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Kraggh's Works ♫♪



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The Pathfinder

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Literature Oct 25 2012 · 153 views
IDES, Short Story
"ARE YOU THERE?"
.........."No, to your right a bit."
.........."There?"
.........."A little more."
.........."Wait, I see you," said Monosmith. Buzzy's bright chartreuse uniform stood out from a half a mile away, even when it was mostly blocked by tree branches. He was seated halfway up the opposite hill. There was a river in between them, so one of them was going to have to get wet. "You stay there. I'm coming to you."
.........."Hurry, that light caught a bit of attention."
..........That was true, but chances were that nothing was paying any attention to where the light was shining so much as they were to where the light was coming from. For good measure, Monosmith didn't let the light hang over the spot where Buzzy stood still and turned it off after shining it elsewhere. Everything went dark, for the brightness of the light had been very, very bright, and the flashlight was a very, very special flashlight. For a moment, everything was silent, too, but he knew predators would come to pick up his scent. He put his flashlight away and ran.
..........The thorny entanglements of bushes ripped past him as he made his way downhill. Several times he had to jump over tree roots and sudden drops. It was a chaotic route, as far off the road as it would ever get. The ground was uneven and not meant for human sprinting, and yet he had no choice because he knew that there were things that came out at night that could glide over this terrain like phantoms. The river was almost in sight.
..........There was a swishing sound. Monosmith pulled out his sword, Thomas. It awakened with a brilliant glittering silver light. There was no way to turn down its brightness. It lit the surrounding area with ghostly contrasts. Everything seemed to be either silver or black. He held Thomas out at length, ready to spirit it in any direction.
..........In spite of the light, there was nothing to see. It seemed as if whatever he had heard simply disappeared into the twisted and confusing branches of the trees. He knew it was still out there.
..........There was a large rock nearby, a broad shape about three body lengths high. Monosmith decided to risk lowering his sword hand and ran as fast as he could to the bolder. He made it halfway up, and then something hit him hard across his lower back, tugging at the tails of his coat. He twisted around and slashed at it. There was a screeching sound, and he saw a dark figure skimp off.
..........He held out his sword like a beacon. Clearly, more shapes were now becoming visible, all in migration towards him, and all coming very fast. There wasn't enough time to scale the rest of the rock.
..........A shadow lashed out at him. He cut it in half, still not knowing what his attacker looked like, not even knowing whether it was a giant beast or a small gremlin. A cold liquid greeted his face. Well, at least he knew they weren't warm-blooded. Several more pounced on him. He felled them all, walking backward up the rock as he did so. Finally, he reached the top.
..........The predators fell pack and seemed to hide behind the trees. He heard further scurrying and the sound of branches ruffling. He looked up and realized that the canopy of the trees were still above his head. Then he brightened the light of Thomas, this time intentionally using it as a light. He saw the figures seeping through the limbs of the trees like rats exploiting a sewer system. Then he saw their appearance, as hideous and as horrifying as the sun was bright. Their skin and internal organs were all transparent, rendering them almost completely invisible as rays from Thomas penetrated through them.
..........Regardless, they could be killed.
..........One sprang out from the canopy and landed across his face, leaving a gash across his cheek. He hoped that the monster blood already on his face wouldn't mingle with his own, or at least that there weren't any unpleasant side effects. He slew the creature, but many more started coming after him, jumping on him from all directions and overwhelming him. His sword was light and he was able to cover as many angles as he needed to in a short period of time, but he was still getting hit where he was least expecting it. What was more, the creatures didn't seem to stop coming, and a minute later he was almost convinced that they had advanced healing abilities.
..........It was after his arm got sore that one finally wrestled him to the ground. Others gathered around to cash in on the kill. They knocked Thomas out of Monosmith's hand. He felt then nipping at his hair and tugging at his clothes, and most repelling of all the sensation of tentacles sliding around his neck and down his mouth. A poison began entering his system that ate at his ability to care, and a black cloud of apathy slowly soaked up his soul. He grew cold.
..........No, he was not going to go down. If there was one thing Monosmith had grown to hate within his lifetime, it was dying. There was too much of that. There were friends to live for, people who would miss him. There were things he wanted to do, things that he had always lived for and never managed to complete. The drug in his system was only putting down his anger and toughness, his aggressive urge to attack. He wasn't going to go to sleep, though, not with a bright summer day inside of him. There were forms of happiness he still longed for, things he wished to live to see. In fact, there was something in particular, something he wasn't ready to give up on. Not yet.
..........Even though his mind was getting sluggish, he managed to remember to grab the light on the inside of his pocket. The monsters almost knocked it out of his hand like they did Thomas, but he endured. He held it close to him and turned it on, then drove up the light output to over nine thousand lumens.
..........The creature directly on top of him shrieked and slithered off. It worked!
..........Monosmith's bloodied face tightened in determination as he fought his way into an upright position. He pointed the light in the direction of the various monsters on his legs. In the blink of an eye they were on either side of the light, but not directly in its path. Now this light was more helpful. It had far more heed than his sword did. Unfortunately, it couldn't shine in all directions. He managed to reach for his sword and use it to slit the throats of the creatures still clawing at his back. With the sword in one hand, torch in the other, he circled around, making sure nothing would come near him. Now that he had more room for movement and time to react, he turned on his light to one million lumens for good measure. Nothing dared to come near him. Still, he considered his options. His senses were coming back to him. His aggression returned. It occurred to him that he could turn the light into a long-ranged weapon, at the risk of setting the forest on fire. He knew he could.  He was, after all, not using a flashlight per se but an interdimensional traveling device, by which he was merely exploiting a technicality in time and space by tapping into the unlimited energies of time rifts.
..........Yet today was a day for mercy. He didn't know why. He didn't care about monsters who had no souls. Yet he wanted some measure of peace for the night and didn't desire to spend the rest of it worried about a fire. He had a friend to look forward to.
..........Monosmith stood still, swiveling the light around, forcing the creatures to form a perimeter around him, coming to a standstill. He couldn't leave his high ground and they couldn't enter the circle where the interdimensional rift energy shined brighter than daylight.
.........."Do you really want me? Because I can keep this up all night."
..........An hour passed before the stalkers were the wiser. Maybe they figured out that Monosmith meant to hold up the standstill until morning. Maybe they were just impatient. Monosmith didn't bet on the latter. Either way, they skulked off.
..........Monosmith sighed.
..........He took out a first aid kit and applied blessed water to his face, healing up the cuts. That was all he had and all he needed. He was confident that he didn't have to use it later. The rest of his body remained undamaged, protected by his coat, gloves, and boots. He called Buzzy again.
.........."Are you still in the same place?"
.........."Yeah. It sounds like you're alright. I'm glad."
.........."I'll be right there."
..........He turned off his light again. He made his way down the hill and got to the side of the river. Its pace he could judge with certainty. It was a lazy river. However, it was about three hundred feet across and his gut told him that almost all of it was deeper than his feet could reach. He would risk a lot by swimming across.
..........Yet, Buzzy was on the line. He would risk it for him.
..........Swimming across the river was not easy when Monosmith resolved to keep him supplies and clothes on him. It weighed him down. His clothes were not going to let him forget this trek for a while. In the middle of the river, he stopped to treat water and looked behind him. Even though they were transparent, he could see the wild things that had attacked him earlier gathering on the shore and swimming across. Might he add, they were swimming about as fast as he could run. He whipped out his IDTD and shined it at them, this time spearing no expense and powering his beam up to a tidal wave of light. Water evaporated where the light touched it. The creatures didn't even have time to scream. They burned up and sank in the water. He touched the tan sands of the beach where the remaining horde lurked, and they scrambled only to fall down and turn black, this time the blackness of burn marks instead of shadows.
..........Monosmith turned off the light and became swimming again. He presumed that this had scared them away for good, and if not it would once he reached the opposite shore and swept the area while on good footing. He reached solid ground again, got to his feet, and did exactly that. Water boiled, presumably many fish died, but no fires were started, and he covered a considerable area with two solid sweeps.
..........He swept his hair out of his face. That was that. He remembered exactly where Buzzy was and let his sense of direction guide him. He climbed up the hill, through the bushes, and over the roots, but this time in no hurry. When he came to the spot, he looked around, and then up at the branches. Buzzy was hiding amid the chaos, resting where a pair of limbs split a trunk in two. Monosmith waved at him. Buzzy waved back and dropped down.
.........."You were actually not the first person I expected to come rescue me," said Buzzy.
.........."Buzzy, you're my best friend," said Monosmith.
.........."Yes, but you have you life."
.........."Actually, about that," said Monosmith. "It's not going very well."
.........."Oh?"
.........."Let's talk about it as we walk. The more ground we cover the better."
..........Buzzy nodded and began walking north. He pulled out his pistols. Between the two of them, they could handle all the midnight monsters the forest could throw their way. "Yeah, I'm not going to lie, I can cover a lot more ground now."
.........."What exactly happened to your team?" asked Monosmith.
.........."Would you believe me if I said it was not those things that go bump in the night?"
.........."I assumed it was something more serious, yes," said Monosmith.
.........."Well it was an ambush. Since it was at night I thought it was the predators, but then gut instinct saved me at the last moment and I ducked outside of camp. A missile hit the clearing and killed everyone instantly," said Buzzy. "I'm pretty sure it wasn't any normal attack, either. I never saw my attackers, but I'm pretty sure I saw a silhouette of an Aardse. Again, if I were to go with my gut instinct, I would say that he or she is still out in these woods, and that's a cause for far greater trouble than the natural inhabitants, so I'd keep your sword out if I were you.
.........."Sorry. What were you saying about life?"
..........Monosmith put his gloved hand on the pommel of Thomas, but he didn't pull it out. "For the time being it looks like I've returned to the fight."
.........."I thought you were trying to retire to a personal life."
.........."Heaven knows, I deserve it," said Monosmith. "Yet, I still have my obligations here. As tiresome as it gets, I'm actually not ready to slow down, not until I've finished with my business here."
.........."That sounded like the younger man I used to know," said Buzzy.
.........."I grew old, unlike you," said Monosmith.
.........."I got stuck on a space ship going near the speed of light. I can't help it that primitive means of travel slowed time down for me."
.........."I know. At least on my part I haven't had to suffer having to see you change. At least there are some constants in my life," said Monosmith.
.........."So what changed you mind? I mean, what brought you back, specifically?" asked Buzzy.
.........."Sadly, the usual," said Monosmith. "I want to have a family, and I wanted to have it with someone in particular. It's too bad she's perfectly happy with someone else. I went through the usual stages, including denial, but those went by fast enough by virtue of this being the second time, and this time...this time I think I really have come to accept my calling."
..........Buzzy stopped. "Did you hear that?"
..........Monosmith looked around. The crunching of their feet against the leaves stopped. There was indeed a sound around. Maybe it was the Aardse. A small critter jumped out in front of them, then pranced off.
.........."Never mind," said Buzzy. "But now that I think about it, you're a loud talker. Just going to put that out there. Let's try to keep our voices down."
.........."I think I'm truly back for good, ready to get this unfinished business out of the way," said Monosmith.
.........."Hey, Monosmith, I'm still thinking the right person is out there for you," said Buzzy. "You'd make an awesome husband. It doesn't necessarily have to get in the way of defeating evil. I'm saying this as your best friend, and as someone who's been there from the start. I know that the two of us have been the two most eternal bachelors in the universe, but I truly feel that the right person is out there for you."
.........."You know the sad thing?" said Monosmith.
.........."Please, don't tell me," said Buzzy.
.........."I'm telling you anyway. There's nothing secret between us," said Monosmith. "I fell in love with several different ladies after that. Not that I told them, but I'm longing for it. After the emotional connection with the one ended, my defenses just laid down on the ground and got curb stomped."
.........."We're just two different animals, aren't we?"
.........."Ywis," said Monosmith. "Well, that bit of emotional floundering further separated me from the need to feel attachment to any given human being and advance and agenda for a relationship, barring the desire to build upon friendships that already exist, such as my friendships with you and Ashley, all of which are ongoing stories whose books can only get thicker. As it stands - " Monosmith stopped. There was a light in the distance, something green. "Over there."
.........."I see it."
.........."It looks like you were right about that Aardse." There was no way it was anything but a sword like his.
.........."I think we can make our way around him."
.........."No," said Monosmith. "We're going to hunt him down."
..........Buzzy shrugged. This was Monosmith's jurisdiction, not his, and in that instant the plan was set. Monosmith looked out at the distant hill and calculated the distance. It should take ten minutes if they both ran. There was, of course, the possibility of running into the less than courteous wildlife and getting a bit occupied, in which case there would no doubt be much light and noise, alerting the Aardse of their presence. Yet, it could be assumed that the light of the Aardse's sword was a sign that he or she was having the exact same conflict. On the other hand, it could be an attempt to lure them in. Either way, Monosmith was going to meet this person come HeII or high water, both of which he had recently conquered.
..........Monosmith and Buzzy ripped their way through the forestry, covering the distance in a little more time than Monosmith had predicted. When they came close to the light, the slowed down to reduce their noise as much as possible. They did not hear any struggle going on. It must have been a lure. Maybe the Aardse had guessed who he or she shared the forest with. While Buzzy stayed behind, Monosmith slipped through the trees and grabbed his sword, making the presence known.
..........She - for the Aardse was a she - turned around in surprise. Her angelic wings folded up with tension.
.........."Settle down. You might attract unwelcome company," said Monosmith.
.........."You," said the Aardse.
..........Instead of extending his sword out in an invitation to duel, Monosmith set Thomas down in front of him like a cane. The Aardse couldn't help but flinch. He knew that the gesture had to have a strong effect, and truly, he was one of the few who could rightfully adopt this posture toward another of his kind. "I plead diplomacy," he said. "My only wish at present is that we cooperate as decent rivals and set aside our differences until we part ways."
..........She nodded her head and sheathed her sword. It was good. Then she spoke in Mastertongue, "Monosmith, I will respect you as the noblest of enemies. Truly, it is not my place to challenge you."
.........."Your name," said Monosmith.
.........."Soul Struggle," she said.
.........."Oh really?" said Monosmith. "I think I should know a thing or two about that. Perhaps you should consider rearranging your allegiances."
.........."I have promises to keep," said Soul Struggle.
.........."What a shame. You have such a beautiful name."
..........Soul Struggle's face went steely and defensive.
.........."Perhaps you are aware of Buzzy?" said Monosmith.
.........."Why am I not surprised that he survived?" she said.
.........."You can come out now," said Monosmith, switching languages. "Soul, would it be within your comfort to constrain yourself to Lucian for the remainder of our time together for Buzzy's sake?"
..........She nodded.
..........They gathered in a triangle in a clearing. Their relative proximity to each other was astounding, considering that just a week ago the conspicuous outsider had nearly killed and certainly stranded the smaller of the men. Yet, Soul clearly knew how well she had it. She was at the mercy of Monosmith, who loomed tall and concealed a device that could fry her in the blink of an eye should he choose to throw honor to the wind. Since there was clearly no point in promoting her own self defense against two apparently courteous men, she looked out at the forest, checking to see if there were any creatures prying about. She had very well invited them to come.
.........."I'm surprised by your tactics here," whispered Buzzy, out of Soul Struggle's earshot.
.........."Well, suffice to say I wished to see this individual," said Monosmith. "Remember, we're better than them. They believe they can inflict judgment. We are ambassadors of mercy."
.........."Whenever we can help it," added Buzzy.
.........."Which is the case now."
..........They looked at each other and came to an unspoken agreement that such was the case, and they continued to observe Soul Struggle. She absolutely refused to look at them. Maybe it was out of discomfort or fear, maybe out of shame.
.........."Be a pal. Set up a fire," said Monosmith. "Trust me on this."
..........Buzzy looked one more time at Soul Struggle, curious, and made a decision to share this trust.  There was no need for it to be said out loud, for such was the repreated theme: A friend's friend was a friend of Buzzy's. He gathered up a few sticks and set them in a tent formation in the middle of the clearing. Soul looked around upon hearing enough snapping of twigs and was surprised to see yet another gesture of trust, the setting up of the fire. Monosmith used his IDTD to fire a laser at the pile and set it aflame in an instant. She almost dropped her sword.
.........."I'm guessing that this is a thing for you guys," said Buzzy, rubbing his hands together and kneeling in to the fire.
.........."More so than you might imagine," said Soul, staring into its center.  Her eyes betrayed her name.
..........Monosmith removed his sword from the ground and cut down a tree, then divided its trunk into three pieces. "Here, we can use these as benches."
..........They did, and as they gathered around the fire, they began to tell stories. Nothing too personal nor anything that revealed critical information. Mostly it took on a more abstract form, where the stories weren't literally life experiences but personifications of thoughts and ideas that they had. Between Monosmith and Soul Struggle, it became a struggle akin to the Canterbury Tales with an agenda to share the best poetry. Such was the way with Aardses. Buzzy for the most part just sat back and listened, perfectly fine that he wasn't getting any of it. Every once and a while he would poke his way in with something far more concrete just to keep theme grounded, to give them humanity when their intellect carried them too far off the ground.
..........Then they asked questions, major questions, and the inevitable came up, the one that many people had always asked him. "Monosmith, why don't you ever smile?"
.........."Oh," said Buzzy, all too familiar with being the middle man in this instance. It was as if to say "This again!"
.........."Why am I always such a somber presence? There are poor people in this world, Soul. You of all people should know that. There are people who strain to see the the light and only need but a little to show them the way. People have hopes and dreams of bigger and better things, and yet Death blackens the world with sadness. They lose that light, and they lose hope. I cannot be happy so long as there is injustice in this world, so long as men have been lied to and believed in vain. I cannot delight so long as there is no mercy for those who need it most. I grieve for those who don't know the light, who don't know wisdom and what they can have. My heart is not for me alone but for all who walk this world, and what joy can fill it when there are so few who have realized the joy of love and its endless comfort. Yet fine men, good men, suffer in a world filled with only false presumptions of happiness. What am I supposed to tell them? That everything's all right? Soul, oh struggling Soul, I tell you now that there are things worth believing in, but things are not as they should be."
.........."What a passionate man," said Soul Struggle, an eyebrow raised.  She turned over a coal with a stick, which was more interesting than his monologue.
..........Buzzy dared crack a grin. Soul decided to make use of that ability as well, although it was a very different sort of smile. Monosmith, stubbornly, refused to follow give up his position.
.........."Monosmith, I believe you are the biggest believer in causes I have ever known," said Buzzy. "Although - get this - the one thing he doesn't believe in is romance. He gave up on it."
.........."Him interested in women in the first place? No way," said Soul Struggle.
.........."Don't tell anyone," said Buzzy.
..........Monosmith looked up at the stars, taken aback that Buzzy had just given away such a private conversation. Whatever the case, he was forgiven. Then he looked at Soul and considered something. "Soul, do people tend to be honest and revealing around you?"
.........."Yes, I was hoping you wouldn't figure that out," she said, crossing her hands.
.........."Well that figures," said Buzzy.
.........."Since the cat is half out of the bag, yes, as it happens, I was once in love," said Monosmith. "I don't regret it for one moment, either. A wise man told me the lessons we learn from pain are the ones that never go away. He was a father to me."
.........."That seems uncharacteristic of Silver Bird," said Soul Struggle.
.........."He wasn't Silver Bird," said Monosmith.
..........There was a burst as a blizzard of sparks whistled out of the fire, and a pause in the conversation.
.........."I have trouble seeing you as a lover," said Soul Struggle.
..........Monosmith said nothing. He presumed that Buzzy could speak on his behalf, especially if there was a literal spirit of honesty about the air. In the face of this, he trusted Buzzy of all people to keep a strong voice.
..........Buzzy began.  "There are great men out there. Silver Bird was older than dust and a bit of a priest, always the father figure but never the husband. Me, I always was just a soldier and realized I only ever wanted friendship that could last until the day that I die. There are others, I know, who have literally become one with the cause. Yet you see, Monosmith is more human than any of them. He can be all those things, and yet...he's a wonder. At the end of the day, when you're done fighting for the cause, when you're 'there', what does 'there' look like? There are things worth fighting and dying for, but once you win them, what is there worth living for?"
..........There was silence. Soul Struggle clasped her hands and held her head low. Monosmith could almost swear she was crying. He stood up and made his way to her to put his glove on her shoulder.
.........."What is it?" he asked her.
.........."Don't talk to me like that," said Soul Struggle.
.........."You can talk to me," said Monosmith.
.........."No!"
.........."If it has to do with your self-doubts, I'm here for you," said Monosmith. "Soul, you're a beautiful person. I know you've been told this, but believe me, nobody means it like I do." She turned away her shoulder and rejected his touch.
..........The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
..........Oh no. They had lit a light on a hill! He ran over to his bench and uprooted Thomas from the ground. "Buzzy, the wildlife!"
..........Buzzy grabbed his pistols just in time to shoot at a slight dark patch that catapulted toward him. Monosmith swung his sword about and let it shine as a great beacon, as a lodestar that could be seen for miles. Between the three of them, they were going to put to rest the prowling abominations once and for all. Let them come.
..........The world seemed to cave in on them as they rampaged like an avalanche from all directions. Battle instincts told Monosmith that there were ten thousand of them, maybe more. They whirled around him, surprisingly silent. He didn't think, didn't aim. He only let the magic of Thomas control his movements for him, channeling the spirit of battle into him and guiding his arm to where it needed to be when it needed to be there. Meanwhile, he made his way next to Buzzy and stood back to back.
.........."Can you use your IDTD to torch them away," said Buzzy, needlessly shouting. There was no noise to be heard over.
.........."And be caught in a forest fire? Not worth it."
..........Once again, the familiar sensation of cuts to the face pelted him. The monsters were as numerous as raindrops in a storm. Before he knew it, he was standing on them, and a pile was building up.  Corpse scattered across the campsite, and a pile of the discarded dead fell upon the fire and put it out. Their chilly blood ran through the soil. Soon there was no soil to stand on, and he was forced to step over the bodies of the individual creatures to maintain a high ground. It was like walking through a giant junk yard, except it was made out of the corpses of monstrosities. Then, rising up from the sounds of silence came something new, something tangible. Something otherworldly.
..........Monosmith looked around. It seemed to come from nowhere, and yet everywhere at once. It was high, shrill, like the sound of a ghostly legion. Through the transparent bodies of the monsters, he glimpsed at Soul Struggle looking around in confusion. He knew it was terror. That sound affected everyone. He had heard it before. Like the sound of the Second Empire, it had a way of gaining automatic access into the soul and paralyzing it with fear.
.........."What in God's name is that?" declared Soul Struggle.
.........."Don't use the Lord's name in vain!" touted Monosmith, an automatic reaction. He had no time to really answer her question anyway.
..........In the naked light he saw a white shape stab its way through the darkness. It was big and unstoppable. It was something to be taken very seriously. While not Craytus, it was still something Monosmith recognized of the insane nuadine species. He forgot all about calling the transparent predators monstrosities. It was now time to correctly apply the word.
..........To describe its form was impossible. How could anyone properly describe the abominations that hid in the forbidden cracks in the universe? Why it had come here, he knew not. The only way he could describe it was to take note of its hovering nature. In a strange way, it reminded him of a zeppelin, except there were strange bulges across its surface and thorny growths in back. Tentacles came from its underside, squirming and hungry for flesh. Covering is was a mix of different forms of eyes that came out of its flesh in odd ways, but what he noticed most, however, was the mouth. It seemed to see with its maw, a giant vertical gash set at its bow with sad excuses for teeth inside, coming in all shapes and sizes, reflecting the distorted, demented world within. He swore he could see a single white eye on the inside.
..........It did see with its mouth.
..........The sound got louder.
..........Flying creatures spawned out of the esophagus and toward him. They bore a strong resemblance to the predators that he already had to deal with. No wonder. It took him a moment to observe what looked like overactive sacks hidden amid the tentacles that seemed to produce the original creatures like an assembly line. Where it got the material to maintain the law of conservation of mass, Monosmith could only theorize, but this was a nuadine. The laws of physics were sketchy with them sometimes.
..........Not that these observations were of any importance. It didn't do him any good to realize that the forest had been populated by the seed of a malevolent alien if it was going to kill him so soon. It was now time for the big guns to come out, forest fire or no.  He reached for his IDTD, not caring if he destroyed the world, so long as he destroyed this thing.  Yet, the flying creatures maneuvered their way toward him, berated him, and snatched the IDTD away.
..........Well if it wasn't going to be one of those encounters.
..........The big white nuadine came closer. Closer. Monosmith was helpless to do anything but fend for himself as the smaller minions stole away at his time. There had to a way out of this. Buzzy tried firing a few shots at it, but they had no effect.
..........The green light of Soul Struggle's sword shifted the angle at which it shone on the ground, through which Monosmith could calculate her position. He never dared look around and he kept his focus on the floating white terror, but he had a general sense that she was using her wings to fly upward. Of course! She could flee! Then, as it would play out, given the deals people of her kind had with the Devil, certainly there was the chance that a dark force such as this might recognize her as a kindred spirit and spare her.  Demons, all of them.  The Devil would spare his children, so long as they continued to cement the decree that only the good should die young.
..........Her green light left the melee.  He didn't count on her returning.  He wanted to say something, an ill-begotten platitude to mark the solemnity of their predicament, to punctuate their sense of abandonment, but he did not want to doom them.  He still believed there was a way out of this, as dark as this was, as certain as his death seemed.  He wouldn't let his last words be those of scorn, either.  Even if his confidence proved wrong, and this really was the end, being killed fighting a nuidine was perhaps the best way to go.  It then would have all ended in the same way that is all began, and his journey had come full circle.
..........Just in case, he prayed in Silvertongue.  "De Herr ist mein Hirte; mir werd nichts mengeln..."
..........The nuadine was coming closer.  It would soon blot out the sky.  The tremulous, tormented whine of the nuadine transcended the three dimensions, defied time and space, and felt like they were coming at him from a direction implacable, and from the past and the future.
..........Far off to his side, he was vaguely aware that Buzzy was being harassed, that he couldn't shoot fast enough to ward off all harm.  He was at the end of his rope, slick with his own blood and grime.  Seeing Buzzy, an honest friend who had been nothing but good to him, his best friend, at the very edge, tormented beyond what people were meant to endure, Monosmith felt the fiercest wrath poor out from him.  It was easy to call this wrath hatred, but it wasn't that.  He was giving Buzzy everything he had, making sure that all this suffering brought out their grandest spirits.
..........This was the price of mercy.  To be abandoned, left for dead.  At least he was creating a Tower of Babel out of these verminous bodies to reach out and touch this ugly god with a casting punch.
..........As it hovered above the edge of the clearing, he realized he didn't have any idea how he was going to get out of this situation himself.  All of those marvelous things he had done in his lifetime were all accidents, and no glory or credit could be given to him.  There would be no miraculous trick up his sleeve that would save him now, unless, of course, if by a literal miracle.  He wanted to say "I'm sorry, Buzzy," but continued on with his prayer.
..........The tenseness left his body.  He wasn't frightened or unnerved by the ethereal sounds of the nuadine anymore.  The dawning comprehension of his death came to him.  So these were his last moments.  This was what the end of his personal story would look like, feel like.  This is how the book would end, and what his final awareness would be before eternal blackness blotted out all knowledge of time.  What a beautiful night, he thought.
.........."Gutes und Barmherzigkeit werden mir folgen mein Leben lang..."
..........Then he saw her green sword.  It skirted down the side of the nuadine, lashing at its eyes.  She was being assaulted by the flying spawn of the monstrosity on all sides, but she broke free, and resisted them all the way as she fought he way to him.
..........Of course.  The literal miracle.
..........Soul Struggle landed next to him as the nuadine blocked out the stars.  In her hand, slippery with the blood of the lesser monstrosities as well as her own, she held his IDTD.  So much power in such small hands.  "Let's get out of here!"
.........."What? No, you don't understand. If we just randomly open a hole in space-time, we'll only end up in another dimension's open space and suffer the vacuum!" said Monosmith. "What I really need that for is to create a flashlight!"
.........."What!?"
.........."Trust him!" shouted Buzzy.
..........She was beat aside and prevented from giving the IDTD to Monosmith. "What do you mean by a flashlight?" she screamed. This time a raised voice really was necessary. She could hardly be heard over the haunting choir of the nuadine's presence.  In fact, he couldn't hear her, and was forced to lip-read.
.........."I can use that thing to access a rift dimension and access unlimited energy in the form of protons, and with the proper intensity it is my hypothesis that a focused beam of ten terrajoules per second would be sufficient in smiting this fiend!" He intentionally left out the detail that it would also inflame the atmosphere it left on for two long.
.........."You can do that with an IDTD?"
.........."Of course I can! I invented them! SO GIVE ME THAT NOW BECAUSE I HAVE THREE SECONDS TO LIVE!"
..........Somehow, she managed to get it into his hand with only a second left to go. The nuadine descended upon him, its mouth closing him out from the rest of the world. Soul Struggle and Buzzy dodged to the side just in time. Good for them, because inside the bowels of this creature, which was unpleasant all on its own, Monosmith was about to bring out the apocalypse. And here, blocked out from the rest of the world, he didn't have to worry one bit about inflaming the atmosphere.
..........The milky white eye gleamed from the light of his sword. Strange, toothy tentacles slurped out of the depths of the throat to strip him of his wares, or smother him, or both. He aimed his IDTD straight at the eye.
.........."Bite me."
..........A sheering white threat slit across time and space and met with the giant opal blob. Monosmith had to refrain as the shrieking of the creature climaxed, which was especially bad when he was within its very bell chamber. The eye ruptured and a firestorm of hot liquids fell down upon him. The tentacles agonized and fell back.
..........Then, without warning, the entire thing exploded.
..........Several minutes later, he was still digging his way out, and he could hear the sounds of Buzzy's guns and the swishing noise of Soul Struggle's blade. He had long since turned his infernal device off. It was no longer safe to use.
..........Finally, he caught a mouthful of fresh air. Something latched onto his face and he switched back into fighting mode. Yet, this time he didn't need a retardant to take away his will to fight. He had just killed a larger than average nuadine, and what was he doing now? The offspring were still rampant and running amok, limitless in number. This was too much for him.
..........He turned on the IDTD, but at low levels so that it was more like an extremely bright flashlight, just enough to hold the creatures at bay. He couldn't endure to fight them any longer. They could take turns playing lighthouse and establishing a perimeter until morning, and then they would be safe.
..........Panting, he almost fell over. Both his friends - no wait, his friend and a noble enemy - caught him and offered him their support.
.........."Endure," said Buzzy. Monosmith almost didn't hear him. The howl of the nuadine was still in his ears.
..........He endured.
..........And endured.
..........Then morning came, and as the first pencil line of sunlight engraved its way across the horizon the transparent creatures sulked back to their daytime hiding places to sleep.
..........Soul tucked a lock of Monosmith's slimy hair behind his ear. "You're so burnt."
.........."It was worth it. You came back," he said.
.........."I'm still struggling," she said.
..........He lifted up his hand to hold on to her wrist. "No, you're not. You've found your way."
..........Suddenly, an appendage thrust its way out of the stockpile of bodied and grabbed Soul by her ankle. She stumbled and reached for her sword. Monosmith reached for his own, and Buzzy reached for his guns, but they were all too late. Monosmith could only look into her eyes in a final moment of horror as the nuadine spawn groped at her neck and delivered fatal damage. He beheaded the creature, but he couldn't undo what had been done. He dropped his sword and grabbed Soul as she fell to the ground.
.........."I can save you!" he said. "Don't let go!" He grabbed the healing water flask from his pocket and held it over her, but it was empty from its previous use. "No!"
..........Soul closed her eyes.
..........Monosmith's face hardened with a mix of anger and sadness, yet for the life of him he couldn't summon a single tear. She was dying.
.........."You have so much to look forward to. You've found your way," he said, willing her to live.
..........He felt her spirit leave her body, and the physical form that had just moments before been the emissary for her soul on this earth he cradled in his arms. Buzzy, at loss of words, collapsed to one knee and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Monosmith shook, then raised his head and uttered a roar. It echoed across the hills.
.........."Let's take her away from here," said Monosmith.
.........."Yes," said Buzzy.
..........They left and went down to the river, where Monosmith washed himself off and cleaned wounds afflicted to Soul's body. He carried it across the hills that day until they found their way to the ship that would take them home.
.........."Did she have any family?" asked Buzzy.
.........."I don't think so," said Monosmith. "I think we should bury her here."
.........."Here? In this HeII?"
.........."It can be a beautiful place if people come here."
.........."Shouldn't she be buried with her kind?"
.........."The Aardses make all the corners of nature their tomb. This one has remained untouched for too long. In their tradition, their graves are obscure and personal, so this is what she would have wanted."
..........He lowered her body to the ground. This would be her sacred place. He tapped her heart once with his sword. The essence of life traveled from within it into her body, so as to grant it eternal beauty and prevent it from decay, and ward away the worms and other shrouded things that eroded away at still bodies.
..........That afternoon she was lowered into the ground with her sword, now black, the light of life taken from it, in her hands. As the sun set in the west, Monosmith lowered his head and recited a poem from one of his favorite poets, William Cullen Bryant, then moved on to prayers and quotations from scripture.
..........Buzzy patted the fresh dirt down and applied the tomb stone. He stepped aside to allow Monosmith work on the final touches. With Thomas, he carved letters of silver light into the surface. The epitaph read:

 

Beautiful Soul

The Lord made her path straight and rescued her in the last hour
With an hour to live, she lived, by His grace and by His power
When her journey ended, she knew she had come to her place
She never died, but rested from her travels to find peace
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
In loving memory of my grandfather, who five years ago today entered Heaven and holds me now as my guardian angel.

 




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Maysa Arena

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Literature Oct 24 2012 · 122 views
The Immortals, epic
IN MY MANY YEARS ONE WOULD SUSPECT THAT I WOULD HAVE IMPROVED MY ABILITY TO LIVE, and yet without fear of death I suffered a psychological detriment.  The average man graduated from college and knew that at the very most he was twenty percent finished with his life, but such an estimation would be generous and his life would more likely than not play out to be shorter than that and render him already a third of the way throughout his course.  Back in my heyday, man would read “Thanatopsis” and it would speak to them, knowing the inevitability of death and expect it as they approached their older years, when the rising and the setting of the sun seemed to come too fast.  Because of this arc they were in, a sense, blessed, for their story had the bookends of both a fitting beginning and a satisfying end.  Like any book with a solid conclusion, there was always a climax and a proper resolve, where life had met all of its needs and there was no further purpose in its continuation.  Yet for me, there was never an end.  When I realized I would never age, I rightfully adopted an invincibility complex.
..........As we drove across the countryside, there was much to talk about, but at least one thing had come with age.  My life might not feel complete, but I was wise.  I felt deep thoughts come about me, and I rested my head against the window.
..........Where was my life heading?  Without death to put my life into perspective, what ultimate purpose could I serve?  For so long I had spent my time helping the world, being a soldier for greater causes, so that I became more of a force of nature, in which case there was no point to my self-awareness.  I often wondered, because it seemed that my purpose was very material, if it was possible for me to reach a point where the meaning to my existence was to stop and just be a person.
..........What did I want out of this road trip anyway?
..........“Why not Minot?” crowed Joe.  The trip had been long, and the North Dakota landscape was flat and dreary with nothing to look at.  It was so bad that Mary Sue got excited to see a windmill.  At the sound of a relatively large town, my head perked up.  It was about time that we got somewhere.  “The Magic City and enemy of skateboarders everywhere.”
..........“What about skateboards?” asked Mary Sue.
..........“Skateboarding is illegal here,” said Joe.  “Except for at the skating park, but if you really want parks I’d suggest the Roosevelt Park and Zoo.  Hey, there’s some real history to this town.  I’ve been around since before it was founded in 1886.  What kind of person would I be if I didn’t know a thing or two about this place?”
..........“I can’t wait to get around and stretch my legs.  The last place we’ve been was Williston and that was two and a half hours ago,” said Mary Sue.
..........Joe took a turn on Western Ave SW.  We weren’t fully in town and there was nothing but trees and hills to our right.  The view was still pretty expansive for being in an urban area.  A lane to the right soon caught Joe’s eye.  There was a sign by the offshoot labeling the place the Minot Park District.  It led into a parking lot, and when I looked back at the large rectangular building it led to it had the large name Maysa Arena along its northern face.
.......... He parked the SUV and leaned back in his seat.  I think we all sighed.
..... .....“Well , I’m getting out,” he said.  It took a full minute for Marry and me to follow suit.
..........“So John,” said Mary Sue.  “What are you wearing a tux for, anyway?”
..........I looked down at my silky and slim attire.  I had little idea.  It just seemed very significant to me in that moment to dress up.  Back in the old days we did it all the time.  I just shrugged.
..........“No, I mean, wouldn’t you want to wear something else here?” she said.
..........“Maybe I want to impress people,” I replied.  “I’m not totally sure, but I think I have an idea of just talking with someone new and sharing my thoughts or something.”
..........“Just keep in mind that in this building is an ice skating rink,” said Joe.
..........“I know,” I said.  “In hindsight, my Civil War uniform would have looked pretty cool on ice, but since it’s the Christmas season I was under the impression that church attire looked nice and celebrative.  Speaking of which, what are we going to do on the big day?  We’re going to all be together.  We’re going to be out in the world, and chances are we’ll be somewhere we’ve never stayed before.”
..........“I honestly don’t know,” said Joe.  “I stopped celebrating the holidays when the Great Depression hit.”
..........I shook my head.  “Really?  I do all the time.”
..........“So do I,” said Mary Sue.  “Joe, you should really celebrate Christmas with us!”
..........Joe blushed, put his hands in his pockets, and kicked the ground.  “Awww, okay.”
..........With that it was a matter of letting loose and checking the place out.  Maysa Arena had two ice rinks and a warm area in-between them, and one of the rinks had a hockey team practicing.  We got our skates and went out on the other rink.
..........Now this was actually a very familiar experience, I know.  Out at the French Retreat, skiing and hiking was available to everyone.  Back there, our entire lives were dedicated to the art of pastime, so skating in a rink wasn’t a major thematic shift.  In the end, I was still doing nothing.
..........I stopped skating and Mary Sue almost bumped into me.
..........“I feel like acting out,” I said.  “I have the energy.”
..........“What’s wrong, fellow traveler?” she asked.
..........“What are we doing, anyway?” I asked.  “We’re still on our extended vacation, only this time it’s on the move.  It’s the same old stuff, though.”
We sat down on the ice and let nearby skaters pass us by.  They didn’t seem to mind.  Some girl looked at us looking as if she interpreted it as something really romantic.  For her sake, I would recommend it.  If Mary Sue and I were an item, I would find this romantic to, but it wasn’t anything of the sort.  At the heart of it all, I was just really, really sad.
..........Mary Sue held out her hands.  “Well, what is it that you haven’t yet done in life?  I mean, just think about it.  It’s not as if you’ve been very creative in your various outlets of productivity.  Let’s see, there’s been fighting as a soldier, fighting as a soldier, fighting as a soldier…”  Each time she said “fighting as a soldier” she ticked off a finger on her left hand in a continuous tally.  “And…Oh yes – fighting as a soldier!”
..........“I wasn’t Joe.  I haven’t been a soldier in maritime, just for the big wars.”
..........“Think about it, John,” said Mary Sue.  “What else is out there that most people live for?”
..........“Marriage, family, children,” I said.  “And friends.  Yeah, I get it.”
..........“I’m just going to go out there and say that the reason you went ballistic yesterday was because John Smith gave up on you as a friend.  I mean, you had each other to live for, but when one of you stopped living…” she held out her hand as if to guide the meaning of the statement into the air.
..........I sighed.
..........“See, what’s different now is that we may not be doing much, but what we are doing we’re doing together,” she continued.  “I mean, the whole reason I stayed sane at the French Retreat was because I could at least talk with you friends about the possibility of getting out.  Now we’re actually trying.  That has to count for something, right?”
..........I considered her words.  It still made me unhappy that what we were partaking in was still essentially an activity for teenagers who had yet to discover their way.  Then again, that was something I was behind on, so it was just as well.
..........“Come on,” she said, returning to her own two feet.  “Get up.”  She held out her gloved hand.  When I was slow to respond, she jiggled her hand.  “Get up!” she repeated with a smile.  I reached up and accepted her gentle tug.
..........The girl from earlier looked at us as she returned from a lap around the ice and smiled.  That prompted me to look at the center of the rink.  Joe Schmoe was, as they said these days, “hanging out”.  To be specific, it was with a woman.  To be even more specific, he was flirting with her, and she was flirting back.
..........“I wonder if we should interrupt,” I said.
......... .Mary Sue  followed my gaze and got the picture.  “Let’s.”
..........“Nah, I want to see where this goes.  No need to be impatient.”
..........“What was the point in asking, then?” asked Mary Sue.
..........“I made up my mind in-between asking and your answer,” I said.
..........“So we just skate around?” she said.
..........“Or you could teach me how to dance,” I suggested.
..........You how to dance?” she guffawed.   “What makes you even think that I can do that?”
..........“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “You just seem to be perfect at everything.”
..........“Don’t stereotype me,” she said.  “My main talent is getting people to think I’m perfect at everything.  I just so happen to not know how to figure skate.”
..........“We have an eternity to live,” I said.  “We could always start now.”
..........Mary Sue smiled and nodded.  We then proceeded to give it a try.  I put my hand around her waist and held her left hand up with my spare.  We made a few movements, but fumbled at first.  I realized that this was actually very difficult because Mary Sue was a very tall woman, in fact just an inch taller than the average man.  The proportions weren’t quite right for us to get a true sense of elegance into the picture.
..........“Sorry,” I said.
..........“Cherish those little mistakes,” said Mary Sue.
..........Then we tried a move that failed on all levels and we found ourselves on our backs with no sense of balance.
..........“You’re going to ruin that suit if we keep this up!” she said.  She used my silver tie to pull herself up.  I wasn’t bothered whatsoever by the tightening around my neck, although I was aware that this looked weird.
..........“This suit has been through a lot,” I said.  “Besides, it’s just frozen water.”
..........Joe beckoned us over.  The blond woman he was with waved with him, smiling at us.  He must have said flattering things on our behalf.
..........“Hey Joe, it looks like you’re having a good time,” I said.  Wink wink.  Nudge nudge.
..........He laughed.  “Shut up!  I’d like you to meet Valerie.  Val – yes, we can all call her Val – these are my friends John and Mary.  I’ve known them, I kid you not, since before you were born.”
..........“You’re not that old,” said Valerie.
..........“I’m older than you.  How old are you anyway?”
..........Valerie opened her mouth wide.  “Oooooh…I cannot believe you just asked me that!”
..........“Um, but I did, and I don’t really care about age,” he said.  “Come on, it’s not like I told you that your dress makes you look fat, which, by the way, reminds me of Victorian-era dresses, which were actually pretty cool, and since I find you’re great-great grandmother’s fashion zingy that means I’m a pretty charming guy, so you’re just going to forgive me for a minor slip of the tongue because it will be worth it.”
..........“You know I wasn’t that offended, right?” she asked.
..........“You weren’t?  Okay, I knew that, but let’s say I didn’t.  I didn’t want to know your age anyway, because the moment you start revealing that sort of information it means that you’re a bit too comfortable with me, and the thing is that I’m a complete stranger and I live in another skate - I mean state - and there’s no way to make a long-term relationship work, although I’d love for you to hang out with us for a little while longer and call it a date just for the sake of our mutual enjoyment.”
..........“That went over my head.”
..........“Yeah, you were kind of intimidating there,” said Mary Sue.  “I’m just giving you some advice as a woman.”
..........“Sorry, I’m just guestimating that you’re thirty-five and have the maturity to match it, based on the conversation we just had, but it looks like I forgot about the incredible diversity and complexity of personal tastes.  But really, I’m just hoping to enjoy each other, eh?”  Joe shrugged and gave a crooked smile.  “Hey, we have a great time thought out.”
..........“We do?” I asked.
..........“You just had to not play along with that bluff, didn’t you?” joked Joe.
..........“No, it’s okay,” said Valerie.  “You’re pathetically trying to charm me and it’s working because the thought counts.  You must really want this.”
..........Well…” began Joe.  “No.  Yes.  No.  Yes!  I don’t know.”
..........“I think it’s just been forever since he enjoyed the company of women friends,” I said, just to keep him afloat.  “Dude, it’s cool.  She’s fine with coming along.”
..........“It’s just that we’re on vacation and something’s missing,” said Joe.
..........“I completely understand,” I said.
..........“See, I was totally up for visiting the Roosevelt Park and Zoo later on because it’s a beautiful place at all times of the year, but you guys seemed uninterested so I wanted to make sure I had company who was.  Seriously, I’ve known you guys for so long that, frankly, you’re just too predictable.  I believe it.”
..........“I believe it,” I said, overlapping him.
..........Joe raised his eyebrows.  “See what I mean?  And Mary?  When I say ‘There’s too much snow out’ you say ‘Snow is a sacred and beautiful thing.’’
..........“Snow is a sacred and beauti – hey!”
..........“Anyway, as we were saying,” he gestured to Valerie, “you guys were pretty cool figure skaters.  I appreciated your lack of talent whatsoever.  It’s far more entertaining.  Go on.”  He gestured to Valerie again.
..........“Well, I just think it’s great to goof up every once and a while.  I like it when people accept that they’re not perfect.  That’s not to call the Olympics stupid or anything, but what if I don’t care about getting something big done and just enjoy life?”
..........Mary and I looked at each other.  This would be an interesting perspective, perhaps just the right one to perform a catalyst for bigger ideas relevant to our discussion.
..........“Well, it seems you guys like the idea of company,” said Joe with a knowing wink.  “By the way, when I told you that I’m in the Air Force and that my major was engineering, I forgot to mention that my minor was criminal justice, and personally in case anything happens it’s just in your best interests to just call family and let them know where you’re going and so forth.  Like, here’s some information on me, which you should probably text to someone else.”  He took out his wallet.  I knew some of the information was faked, including the last name.  What was it this time?  Joe Little?  Then I also knew that he had over the course of his years majored in a couple of other things.
..........“Dude, it’s okay.  You’re not psycho.  We’re adults,” said Valerie.
..........“I know, but I’m very safety conscious and no matter how screwball I can get I’m sincere about following proper procedures,” said Joe.
..........“Oh, fine,” said Valerie.  She made a few calls, relayed Joe’s information to a few friends, gave them a physical description, and hooked her arm in Joe’s.
..........We spent some more time hanging out.  I was still a bit surprised as Joe’s luck with making quick friends.  In every regard he seemed to be a happy soldier.  If they were physically capable of having a long-term relationship, Valerie would have been a lucky woman indeed.  We had hot chocolate together when Mary Sue pulled me aside, putting some distance between us and Joe’s new business.
..........“It’s their date,” she said.
..........“It is, yes,” I acknowledged.
..........“So let’s do this for Joe.”
..........I didn’t answer.  Something was creeping at me.  I knew Joe.  No, not just a passing knowledge, but I knew him.  Our friendship went back for several generations.  Parents didn’t even understand their children the way I could with Joe, and my gut gurgled as I thought about the future.
..........I feared for him.


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The Immortals, chapter 1

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Literature Oct 22 2012 · 77 views
epic

Reentry


WE WERE IMMORTAL, BUT IT WASN'T A BLESSING.  My name is John Silver, and I have been John Silver for a while.  The only friends I have are old friends.  It’s very difficult to find anything to do anymore that seems worthwhile.  Yeah, it’s that sort of lifestyle.
..........The room was half lit and felt romantic.  I was relaxed, sitting next to the fire, politics in the back of my mind.  Beside me was another John, this one John Smith.  I had known him since the war of 1812.  Good times, save for the burning of the White House, then known as the executive mansion.  Back then we were both young, both unaware that we would live forever, and we thought that there was so much to live for.  At that point America’s independence was permanently established and we thought we could put our guns down forever.  Since then, we fought in the Civil War and both the World Wars.  Who knew?
..........Smith turned over in the couch.  I swear he had been sleeping for well over 24 hours.  It was the best he could do when he wasn’t allowed to die.  By the time the Vietnam War rolled around, the nation seemed to follow him and lost the will to fight.  I disagreed with him.  The spirit was still in me.  I fought one last war.  Since then recruitment has become stricter and I haven’t been able to create a fake identity as well, so I’ve stopped.  I wish I hadn’t.  Now that I’ve got out of the flow of things it’s hard to get back in.  So now I’m here on the same couch with Smith.
..........This is the French Retreat.  In spite of the name, there’s nothing French about it, and it’s set up in the beautiful hills of Montana.  To translate the name from Humor to Plain English, it means “the place where we retreat forever”, which the history of French warfare seemed to describe aptly.  This was where immortal people retired.  Few people ever stumbled upon it, which was good for us.  For the few outsiders that knew of the retreat’s physical existence, they just assumed that we were a secret society and were okay with any weird stories that surrounded the place.
..........I didn’t know if I liked it here.  It was quiet, certainly good for rest.  The view was good.  The architecture was beautiful, designed by a Chinese architect from the first century, who over the course of his life knew a few tricks.  The lounge, well, I just about lived in the lounge.  Nothing happened anymore.
Smith began to snore.
..........“Wake up,” I said.
..........I reached into the fireplace and grabbed a fistful of red embers.  I sprinkled them on his face.  He sniffed and began to spasm.  Some of the ashes fell off of his face and onto the leather couch, and I had to divert my attention to brushing those off.  No damage was done, thank goodness.
Smith slipped off the couch and got on all fours.  He looked like he was about to throw up, sounded like it too.  “Sore,” he said.
..........“That’s what you get for sleeping for twenty-four hours straight,” I said.
..........“Hey, it didn’t feel so bad while I was asleep,” he said, still on all fours.
..........“Shave up, buddy,” I said.  “I’m getting sick and tired of you sleeping.  We’re going out.  We’re doing something.”
..........He up looked at me.  “No,” he said.
..........A wild howl brewed up from the bottom of my throat.  I let it out, and with a burst of energy I kicked the wall.  Smith didn’t care.  There were only three other people in the lounge.  They looked my direction apathetically.  There was now a dent in the wall.  When you were immortal, you didn’t care.  Anger meant nothing.  It didn’t threaten anyone here.
..........“No?  What do you mean, ‘No’?”
..........“I said ‘No’ and I meant ‘No’ and ‘No’ is ‘no’ is ‘no’,” he said.
..........I picked him up and dragged him across the floor, out of the lounge, down the staircase, to the main level, and through the front door into the snow where I began kicking him.  He put up no resistance.  Eventually I wore out after three hours.  My breath was still with me, but the energy to hurt him had subsided.  Energy always subsides with enough time.
..........Smith made his way onto his own two feet and stretched his back.  “For what it’s worth, I’m not sore anymore,” he said.  He repositioned his shoulder and it snapped into place.  “I’ll see you inside once you get over this phase of yours.”
..........He began to make his way past me, but I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and punched him in the face, so hard that I broke his beck.  I propped his skull back in place just so he would heal and I could break his neck again.  He remained apathetic.
..........“You weren’t always like this,” I said.
..........“That’s what you told me back at ‘Nam,” he said.
..........“I was friends with you because you were somebody.  Look at you!  Now you’re nobody,” I said.  “You’re nothing but a back of bones.  You haven’t gone insane yet.  I know you’re still yourself.  I’ve known you for way too long to just give up on you.”
..........“There’s nothing left of me to believe in,” said Smith.
..........“At least carry some semblance of the person I knew,” I said.  “I’m talking to a blob who sits on the couch all day like someone just barely making his way through a hangover.  If I’m going to sit around and do nothing with you for the rest of eternity, I might as well do nothing with someone who has a personality.  At this point, there isn’t really anything likeable about you.”
..........“What’s the point to likeability, anyway?” said Smith.  “It’s just something we invent based upon our judgments on what’s worthwhile and what’s not.  I’m pretty sure that you don’t have a personality yourself once you get down to it.  It’s something you try hard to create and you fall back on it out of sheer habit.  I don’t know about you, but I think I’m being truer to humanity than anyone else, because I’ve reverted back to my purest form, the personality of an unborn bundle of joy.  All the personality I need it the occasional kick while sleeping.  So there.”
..........I let him go.  I wanted to punch him again, or send him flying through the glass front of the building, but it would do no good.  He would just heal over, get over it, and continue to not care.  We walked back inside.  He returned to the lounge, where I presume he continued to sleep.  I made my way down to my room and packed my stuff, then went to his room.  The door was unlocked.  Nobody locked their doors here.  When I returned to the lounge I stopped by the only other people there.  They looked at me.  They saw that I was dressed up.  They saw that I was carrying John Smith’s old tuxedo in its bag.
..........“Is anyone here willing to go out?  This place is nice.  It feels like home.  But it’s not where I want to stay a hundred percent of the time, so pardon me if I’m disturbing the peace.”
..........My other friend, Joe Schmoe, stood up and straightened out his shirt.  “That tux is a little outdated.  If you two go out, you’re going to need to go shopping.”
I scratched my head and looked over to the couch next to the fire where Smith had returned.  “Hey, Smith, do you mind if I throw this into the fire?”
..........“Go ahead,” he said.
..........“No really, I’m going to do it,” I said.
..........“I don’t care,” he said.
..........I paused and looked at Joe, eyebrows raised.  “Okay.”  I walked over to the fireplace and threw the old suit in.  A pity, since it was an antique.  I could have made good money off of it by selling it to a collector, but no.  I considered going downstairs and getting his Civil War uniform, but decided against it mostly because it would be too difficult to get rid of such a valuable item.  I walked back over to Joe and put my hand on his shoulder.  “Well, I guess I can count on you.”
..........“Glad you have some sense, so offense to anyone here,” said Joe.  He was like me, also a remnant from the eighteenth century.  The main difference was that he seemed better at getting past modern identity checks and applied for different branches of the military every twenty years.  Still, he had to be careful, and he had only been an officer once, and even then he only rose to the rank of captain by the end of his twenty years.  He was still out there and doing things.  “Just to make sure, though, are you really getting back into the swing of things or are you just saying this to vent?”
..........“No, I mean it this time,” I said, even though that was what I said the last time.  But I was sure, I was positively sure, that this time I would actually leave the front door and walk all the way to town.  I looked at the other two people at the table.  One was Uta-Napishti, perhaps the oldest person I had ever met.  The other was Mary Sue, who seemed to be mulling things over.
..........“My vacation’s only so long, so we’d better hurry,” said Joe.  “It’s glad to have someone come with, for once.”  He reached out and shook my hand, then excitedly ran out to the balcony and down the staircase, where he hit the ground and ran off in the direction of his cabin.
..........Now that it was official, I knew I had to pack, so I headed downstairs.  I didn’t pack a whole lot, mainly just clothes and my special razor that I used to shave my indestructible stubble.  Anything else I could either get from Joe or from a store.  Money wasn’t an issue for me.
..........When I got to the front door I expected Joe to be waiting for me, but he wasn’t.  I guess he had more to pack.  Well, I was over two hundred years old.  A little wait never hurt anyone.
..........After a few minutes I heard the front door open behind me.  Footsteps crunching through the snow, and then the physical presence of a friend by my side.  It was Mary Sue.  She had a coat on a bag of her own.
..........“Hey,” she said.  “I thought I would get some fresh air, too.”
..........I nodded, and then put my hands in my pockets, which was in stark contrast to the way she held her arms around herself.  “Do you need another coat?” I asked.  She was immortal purely by the virtue of not aging.  There were no healing powers or indestructibility to ease her comfort out here.
..........She nodded, so I dug out my leather jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
..........“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do?” she asked.
..........“No,” I said.  The wind blew at my hair.  I looked out at the elements, wondering what they had in store for me, wondering where on the horizon I belonged.
..........“Nothing?”
..........“Well I can’t very well just return to life as a soldier, so no,” I said.
..........We waited in silence for a few more beats, and then Joe showed up with a large assortment of bags.  “Mary, glad to see someone else is coming with.  I’ve never known you outside of the French Retreat.”
..........She pulled up her hood.  “Thanks.”
..........“Hey, guys, can you do me a favor and help me load this stuff into my SUV?”
..........We agreed.  It didn’t take too much time.  There was a bit of bragging going on over who could pack better.  Joe and I maintained that as longtime soldiers we were the best packers ever.  Mary Sue said that was nothing compared to her old-time womanly values.  Being gentleman, we let her take the credit for the neatness of the packing.  It was all a bit trivial, but it seemed to satisfy her a great deal.  Joe started the SUV and I called shotgun.
..........“Where are we going?” I asked.
..........Joe backed up.  “I don’t know.  Pull out the map.”
..........I checked the map in the glove compartment and unfolded it, always a messy endeavor.  “Someplace sunny, I’m thinking.  Maybe California.  What about Mexico?”
..........“No, wait, give me that!” said Mary Sue.  She wrestled the map from me.  “Those are terrible choices.  If we’re going to go anywhere, I’m going to call the shots, because you’re driving and you called shotgun,” she said to Joe and me.  “Alright, I like the looks of here.” She punched her finger onto the surface of the map and showed the location to Joe.
..........“Do you have any idea where you just pointed to?” he asked, shifting into forward gear.
..........“No.”


Photo

Mickey's Diner

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Superman, Literature Oct 18 2012 · 79 views
Short Story
IT WAS OPEN 24 HOURS A DAY, 365 DAYS A YEAR.  There was ham, sausages, bacon, pancakes, waffles, everything a nostalgic fan of the 50's could ever want.  Neal Kaplen once said in the Metropolis Times that it had "Malts so thick you could eat them with a fork, hamburgers so juicy you can use a spoon, and waitresses so ornery you better know exactly what you want by the time they reach you."
..........As it happened, Lois knew before she looked at the menu that she wanted the Fresh Ground Coffee.
.........."You're a reporter, aren't you?" said the waitress, her name tag labeling her Jenny.
.........."The best there is," said Lois.  "So says my boss."
.........."Your boss a guy?" said Jenny.
.........."Yeah," said Lois.
.........."Probably because you're pretty, then," said Jenny.  "No lie, sometimes I'm sure I get tips because I'm attractive myself."
.........."Shouldn't you be busy getting me coffee?" prodded Lois.  She was a bit tired at the time and her voice was husky, but her face was sharp, demanding to be kept seriously.  The waitress corrected herself and went back into the kitchen.
..........She got her coffee, drank it dry, and repeated her order.  Clark was nowhere to be seen.  She wished he had told her what had come up.  On the other hand, she never specified the time to meet.  She shook her head.  More coffee.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  The best she could to with her time was to make use of the caffeine in her system and zoom in on the details of the newspaper she had with her.  She swore she waited for an hour, but when she looked at the clock it was only fifteen minutes before she saw Clark's giant glasses making their way across the street.  He almost got hit by a car along the way.  He readjusted the glasses, bowed, and apologized.  Lois looked on almost apathetically, used to the sight.
..........He bumped open the door and removed his hat once inside.
.........."I'd like a - " he began.
.........."More coffee," interrupted Lois.  She tapped her cup.  The waitress took it.
..........Clark looked around the diner, observed the seats, the counter, the waitress, and the food like he was a kid in a toy store.  "You know, I've always liked the 50's.  The food, the fashion, the television shows, it all kind of reminds me of family.  On that thought, my favorite actress was Noel Niell.  I loved her."
..........Oh, the small talk.  It was completely out of character when they were both reporters.  Lois looked at the manuscript folded up in her purse.  She picked it out, unfolded it, and pondered the contents.  "Ah, heck, I might as well give this to you right now," said Lois.
..........Clark took the papers, unfolded them, and speed-read his way through.
.........."Hm."  Just that, hm.
.........."Well?" said Lois.  "Anything else?"
.........."It's a very tall claim," said Clark, looking up.  "Never mind that for now, though.  You are aware that spell-check doesn't catch everything, right?"
.........."Oh shut up," said Lois.  "Flatter me.  Overlook the flaws."
.........."I just thought I'd mention it, because I'm trying to be helpful," said Clark.  "It's called constructive criticism."
.........."Yes, but I want you to appeal to my ego.  I'm on an ego trip right now and there's no way you're taking me down," said Lois.
.........."It's a marvelous story, then," said Clark.  "I'm very happy for you.  From here on things are swell - "
.........."Oh please, not that word again."
.........."Sorry," said Clark.  "Now the main thing that stands out to me, other than the subject previously alluded to but since relegated to the category of unspoken subjects, is the title."
..........Lois opened her mouth as if to take offense, as his tone was doubtful.  "What about it?  It's an awesome title!"
.........."'My Date with Superman?'"  Many wrinkles appeared on Clark's forehead.
..........The waitress intervened with the coffee.  Clark grabbed a cup without looking at it and continued to maintain eye contact with Lois, both of them looking incredulous with each other.
.........."Rule number one, buddy: headlines have the catch the eye.  What about this doesn't scream to be read?" asked Lois.
..........Clark sipped his coffee.  "Well, that's the thing.  By phrasing it that way everybody knows that you are romantically involved with the most powerful man in the world.  Now say you were to report that Superman chose to reveal personal details to you for the benefit of the public, but were to leave the elements that qualify this encounter as a date ambiguous.  See, the details of who Superman is are the things the public ought to know.  They ought to know that he's an alien from the planet Zenon - "
.........."Krypton," said Lois.
.........."Is that really its name?  Really?"
.........."Is the big S on his chest really his family crest?" countered Lois, like it was a rhetorical question.
.........."That seems awfully contrived to be a coincidence," said Clark.
.........."Clark, you trust me, don't you?" said Lois.  "Really, you've always assumed the best in people.  I'm not lying.  This is what he told me, and I know he was telling the truth."
..........Clark blushed.  Lois wasn't sure why.  Then he finished his coffee.  "Just promise me one thing.  Keep the title, because it is an eye-catcher, but quickly downplay it.  I mean, that's personal information.  You can afford to be slightly deceptive on it."
.........."I find it hard to believe that you would support something like that," said Lois.  "Isn't that still dishonesty?"
.........."No it's just..." Clark paused to look for the right words.  "Letting people to follow their natural tendency to look but not see.  The point is, I care for you.  I don't want to see you get hurt.  Is it possible that you could publish it anonymously?  Just Perry White and I would have to know."
..........Those words hit Lois harder than she was willing to let on, but she unwillingly let on everything by dropping into silence and staring at her coffee cup.  It hurt her to actually consider the possibility of publishing what could be the biggest article of her life anonymously.  He was treating her like someone who needed to go into the witness protection program, which if she went through with her plans could very well be the case.
..........The swirling white top of her coffee wasn't giving her any answers.
.........."What if..." she couldn't think of anything.  She had no convincing counter-argument, and it was killing her.  "I mean, uggghhh..."  She certainly knew what she wanted.  Yet, she had to admit, it was kind of selfish.  Yet the more she thought about it, the more she had to admit, she was scared.  She wanted the spotlight, but what would happen if she really got it?  Yes, it would open doors, give her opportunities to really make a difference as a reporter.  She would be important.  All it took was a willingness to sacrifice some of her safety.
.........."It's okay, Lois, at least you're getting the truth out there," said Clark.  "This is a man who's changing the world.  What matters is that he's expressing himself and you're there for him."  He put his hand on her wrist.
.........."I hate it when you're right," said Lois.  She was secretly very angry with him.  Why did he have to be like her father?  Why did he have to be so concerned with her safety?  She couldn't dwell on that anymore, though.  It was time to put the discussion back on her terms.  "So I'm pretty sure I'm pleased with the way I organized the paper.  I mean, I figured when he first appeared last Christmas, the two biggest questions on people's minds were 'How can he do all those things' and 'What's up with the underpants on the outside'? I figured it was best to just answer both of them at the same time.  The way I see it, he's a supreme alien from Krypton; he can wear whatever he wants."
..........Clark chuckles, almost spilling over his coffee.
.........."But seriously, that's how they dress where he comes from," said Lois.
..........Clark put the papers on the counter and looked straight at her, smiling.  "That's swe - uh, that's sweet.  No, I was laughing for completely different reasons.  Your organization, by the way, is fine, just fine.  I have no complaints.  Asides from typos, you're the world's best reporter."
.........."Yeah, well, I guess that explains why the Daily Planet's circulation is down," said Lois.  It made her blood boil just thinking about it.  "That villain Lex Luthor's declaring a personal war on us because we published some critique on him.  Things would be going completely the other way if I actually had proof that he's a white collar criminal."
.........."Don't worry.  We'll come back out on top," said Clark.
.........."And the thing is, most of the public is afraid of Superman because he has the other newspapers attack him," said Lois.  "There needs to be just one article out there that shows him for who he truly is.  And I believe him, by the way.  I believe I met the real man.  He has his secrets, I guess, who doesn't?  But he's still honest.  I don't know everything, but I know what's important.  He's a good man, and when he says that he's just here to be a friend I think he really means it."
..........Clark looked at his cup.  "I think I've had enough coffee."
.........."I haven't," said Lois.
.........."Once you're done, I think we'd better leave.  I mean, we'd be taking up this space and we'd kind of be loitering."
.........."Clark, you're paranoid," said Lois.  "Nobody's cramming to get in here."
.........."Are you sure?  I mean, it's a pretty nice place," said Clark.
.........."Have you looked out the window?  It's just a bad day for business."
.........."Okay, Lois," said Clark, withdrawing.
.........."See?  I'm always right," said Lois.  "Except when I'm wrong."  Clark's eyebrows raised and he looked at her expectantly.  "Okay,  I was wrong just a moment ago.  But that doesn't count."
.........."Statistically speaking, you're still generally right," said Clark.
..........Lois smiled without knowing why.  Again, it was the same smile she had on the rooftop with Superman.  What was with that?
..........Jenny walked up to them and put her hands on her hips.  "Are you two lovers done yet?  I can't have you two taking up space here."
..........Lois looked at her and gave her an indignant look.  "Excuse me?"  Clark at once averted his gaze and scratched the back of his neck like a turtle pulling its head into its shell.  Goodness gracious, if he wasn't going to be any help, Lois would just have to pretend that she didn't know him.
.........."It's called loitering," said Jenny.
.........."Well I haven't received my next coffee yet," said Lois.
.........."You've been drinking coffee all day!"
.........."Twenty minutes," said Lois.
..........Clark got up.
.........."Clark, sit down!" said Lois.
.........."Uh, Lois, I've had enough coffee.  I can go," he said.
.........."No, I invited you here and our business isn't finished yet!" said Lois.
.........."Lois..."
.........."Don't 'Lois' me!"
.........."Lois?"
.........."Lois!" said Jenny.
.........."Hey, you're not on a first-name basis with me, Jenny," shot Lois.
.........."I'm sure we can discuss this at a different time," said Clark.
.........."That's it, you're out of here!" said Jenny.  "I am officially telling you to get out!"
..........Clark grabbed the papers off the counter and immediately left.  Lois couldn't believe he was chickening out just like that.  On second thought, yes, she could definitely believe it.  Lois lost her will to stay and fight, since her reason for coming in the first place had just walked out the door.  She followed him onto the street.  He was sitting on the curb with the papers in hand.  She sat next to him.
.........."I'm sorry," said Clark.
.........."You don't have anything to be sorry for," said Lois.  She looked behind her to glance through the window of Mickey's Diner.  Nobody had taken their seats.  Jenny had no one to serve.  "It was mostly that waitress's fault."
.........."It wasn't her fault either.  I'm just - I'm just sorry," said Clark.
.........."Clark, why don't you just come out and say it was me?" said Lois.  "You're always blaming yourself for everything because you're too afraid of inflicting judgment on anyone.  Come on, be a reporter!  Have some guts!  Say it!"
.........."Lois, you were just being yourself," said Clark.  "And you're so secure with who you are.  I don't want to take that away from you."
.........."Part of me being me is that I'm pretty used to people calling me out on things," said Lois.  She put her hands on his to get his full attention.  The paper rustled as his grip loosened.  "Clark, can you do me a favor?"
.........."If you need one," said Clark.
.........."Just say yes," said Lois.
.........."Yes."
.........."I'd like you to be completely honest with me.  Call me out when I'm going too far, like when I was going to tell the world that I dated Superman," she said.
..........Clark just looked at her haplessly.
.........."As a friend," said Lois.  "I trust you."
..........Clark sighed.  He handed the manuscript to her and began walking across the street.  There was a break in the traffic and the opportunity was perfect.  Lois got up and didn't let him leave her side.  To her satisfaction he wasn't sulking.  He was genuinely deep in thought and stayed silent for a while.  Finally, "I'm trying to imagine what that would be like."
.........."Don't think about it.  Just know that it will be better."
.........."I know," said Clark.
..........They walked shoulder-to-shoulder as the returned to the Daily Planet.



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Autumn Phantom

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Literature Oct 14 2012 · 105 views
poem, poetry

The moment arrived to sit on the curb

To become one with the frail autumn leaves

Alone, away from all the rest, to rest

Never to let them see what could disturb

A man who walks with his back to the breeze


Away, away, to hold communion here

With the dried remains of the Earth's substance

With the still October air, with an air

Of Death, which in earnest speaks in my ear

How the door I seek is not an entrance


Avant!  Alas!  The grimmer days I've found!

The winds of change no more upon my back

Taunted by the whispers I hear, and here

I stand upon the great tomb of the ground

When the winds of time call to raise attack


I could have found my friends and laughed away

My days, I could have grown to be a man

I am not a man but a boy, and boy

When I'm done feigning my strength for the day

Weakness spurs up from the underground clan


You see not the patient one without fear

But a man who chases his favorite

Shadows, calls him brother, calls her mother

Sister, father, family, darling, dear

A man a great distance from his spirits


One day my family will come, one day

They will smile for me, they will comfort me

I will come back home to it, talk to it

No longer will it be a phantom, nay

But peace of Earth so my soul shall walk free!




Photo

Joker Face

Posted by Jean Valjean , Oct 10 2012 · 101 views

:miru:

[Joker]

Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha!

Ha ha ha ha!


I wanna chase'm and mess with the police

Break'em let'em hit me in the middle of the street

(I ship it)

You might hate me now but when you cool down here's my card

And when you try to hunt me I'll tell you how I got these scars


Oh, oh, oh

It's all for naught, you can't stop my plot

Oh, oh, oh

It's all for naught, you can't stop my plot


Care if I tell you why

I've got these scars on my face?

(He must be really psycho)

Santa Claus slit my jaws

He put a smile on my face


J-j-j-joker face j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)

J-j-j-joker face j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)


[Harvey Dent]

I want to flip a coin and get my way for for free

I make my own luck with my Lady Liberty

(I ship it)

When you come down to it I need to get things done

And let them think there's two faces but load the gun with one

(two)


Ow, ow, ow

This flame is hot, and I am distraught

Ow, ow, ow

This flame is hot, and I am distraught


Now I'm fried, Rachel died

So I'm going by Two-Face

(Fire ruined half his body)

Forget my fortified

Morals, I am now Two-Face

(Just look at half that body!)


[Joker]

J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)

J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)

(Ha ha ha ha!)

(Ha ha ha ha!)

(Ha ha ha ha!)


I was nice to guy like you

But not like you

Twenty-somethin', he was nothin'

Tongues were tying, riddles punning till my mouth starts running

Just like a click I stop, you know

Take a prank and cut my cheekbones out

I'm ending this with my Swiss

No more jokes, "Why so serious?"


Who am I?  Why am I

The psycho with the Joker face?

(Don't forget Mr. Two-Face)

You are so status quo

Why not be like me, a Joker face?

(Don't forget Mr. Two-Face)


Would I lie about my

Reasons for my Joker face?

(Don't forget Mr. Two-Face)

I don't know where to go

But here's by card, I'm Joker face

(Don't forget Mr. Two-Face)


Cherry pies in the skies

Don't believe in them like Two-Face

(Fire burned up half his body)

I don't go with the flow

Cause Gotham needs stranger face


J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(No you see chaos embodied)


J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)

J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)



J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(Ha ha ha ha!)

J-j-j-joker face, j-j-joker face

(HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!)


24601




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Looper Review

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Movies, Reviews Oct 09 2012 · 95 views

Posted Image


:kaukau: I went to this movie knowing full well that I would like it.  Bruce Willis claimed that it was the "best film [he had] ever been in," which is a pretty tall claim for an actor immortalized by a span of works that is not only great, but crowned by "Die Hard", commonly acknowledged as not only the definitive Bruce Willis movie (which it is), but the definitive action movie of all time.  So with that in mind, this is a pretty tall claim from one of the trusted big guns that was put into this film.  However, it immediately put me into a mindset to set my expectations higher that I otherwise would have and I went in thinking I was going to see a good film, and while not Bruce's best movie it would certainly be one of his better ones.

In that regard, I think my assumptions hit the mark.  Looper was very well made with professional direction.  The flow was spot-on and it was just right for a time-travel movie.  For people who dislike predictability, it avoids obvious plot developments for the most part and keeps the audience guessing while staying clear of far-out plot developments.  Considering that this is a time-travel film, things could have very easily gone that way and tried too hard to emulate another hit movie like Inception, but it tones down on modern expectations for a convoluted story and takes an approach that, in hindsight, was surprisingly straightforward, though it doesn't seem like it at the time.  So I'm proud to report that the narrative played things straight and yet the movie still managed to keep the audience going with a continuous wonder for what waited just around the corner.  It's certainly not one of those films where you can predict everything that's going to happen just through a collection of advertisements and basic assumptions about the pitch.  Even if you're like my mother - who's the Nostradamus of moviegoers - and predicted everything (because some of us are just better at figuring out what the storyteller wants to do with his story than others) and nothing necessarily comes as a surprise, it's still a welcome change from the typical flat movie narrative.

As far as that whole journey is concerned, there are many moments throughout the film, and for that matter many acts where objectives of the main characters and the direction of the story seem to change, so at any given point the film is strong, not just at the beginning and at the end.  The directly spread out his investment.  The only part that I thought was completely unnecessary was a scene where for about a full half a minute the main character, Joe, is with a topless stripper.  It didn't add much to the story and it broke the narrative.  For a moment another sexual scene later on got to me, where there was no nudity but certainly passionate kissing followed by bedtime, but there was an underlying humor in the acting and screenplay that made it quite funny, thus contributing to the movie's many moments.  Another thing I might have questioned was the exposition at the beginning - straight narration.  However, I realized as soon as it was over that the narration discussed the reasons for time travel that couldn't just be shown.  Considering that the narration was supported by scenes, however, there was still some showing to counter the telling, and really, once I thought about it, given the complexities of the initial set-up, taking the time to explain purely through showing and contrived in-story exposition would have disrupted the forward movement of the narrative, so it was best just to get people into the story fast.

The gem of the movie's little moments, however, go to the main character, Joe.  That should be easy to remember, considering that Young Joe is played by a Joe, and Old Joe is played by Bruce Willis, who's played more than one character of the same name.  That's not to say that the main character will be remembered.  He didn't receive much characterization, unlike other figures like the Terminator, and the hyperbolic Batman.  However, the movie will certainly be remembered for the great performances of Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Bruce Willis.  Bruce Willis was at the top of his game and the director knew how to bring the best strokes of talent out of this particular actor.  Yes, that includes an obligatory "Expendables" moment where Old Joe ceases to be an annoyance and the villainous Looper gang realizes that they're dealing with fire from heaven, an unstoppable juggernaut, a one-man army, their personal judgment day, or what have you.  It was a pretty simple shout-out to the actor and the legendary class of action heroes he comes from, and it was well-deserved after the character earned it through a number of other cool moments.

Now there's a reason why Joe doesn't receive much characterization.  At first I thought he was going to be nothing more than the typical modern anti-hero, a guy who does drugs and wastes himself while saving the day.  However, I was surprised to find that I actually ended up liking him, and given the time-traveling nature of the film he actually developed in multiple ways.  Old Joe is considerably different from Young Joe, which is shown through a brief collage of the events of his life, which speak enough for themselves.  That could have easily been overdone, but I think I like it the way it was because more characterization would have actually been redundant and the director decided to tell the story of the character more through the performance, as I said before.  Meanwhile, Old Joe still develops even after it's established that he's changed a lot since his "present day" Young Joe counterpart, and whether he's being a hero or a villain protagonist at that point is a subject for debate.  Young Joe, meanwhile, also develops in ways that Old Joe did not anticipate.  So overall, there are a few branches to the character's development, and some of it flat-out contradicts itself.  It also creates an interesting dynamic where the two versions of the character conflict with each other, which is a very interesting chemistry to watch.

Overall, I can see why Bruce Willis held this film in high esteem.  The director really allowed him to all-out with his performance (a word that has grown redundant in this review, I know), created a fun time-travel film, and put together a solid piece of work with the combination of a good plot and really good storytelling.  In fact, there were moments where the movie reminded me of Terminator and Back to the Future in a philosophical storytelling sense.  Granted, however, it lacks the same simplicity and iconic music (I recall nothing of the film's soundtrack whatsoever), but some of the elements of style are similar, and to no surprise I found a statement from director Rian Johnson saying that Looper references them, as well as other movies like 12 Monkeys and Primer.  It's not an icon and hardly the best movie in a year with astounding movies, but it's definitely worth seeing.  I'd classify it as a Bruce Willis movie that will be well remembered (the future for Young Joe is a little more difficult to predict), a movie with very good storytelling that doesn't make its style too conspicuous.  It could have used a few tricks from the Silent Era if it wanted to be grander, but otherwise I'm perfectly fine with this being a low-key but otherwise sound picture.

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On The Planet's Roof

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Superman, Literature Oct 07 2012 · 75 views
short story
LOIS SCURRIED DOWN FROM THE ROOF.  Some heads turned.  Everyone seemed to notice her excitement, save for Clark, who was too busy working on his economics article to take note.  She sat down in her desk directly across from him and typed on her computer with a satisfied smile.  The rapid sound of keys filled the otherwise silent room for a full minute.
..........Clark finally looked up.  "Lois, do you want me to proofread your work?"
.........."What?  No," said Lois.  Of course not.  This was too good for anyone to see until she was done.
..........Clark leaned over the desk space between them.  Lois stopped smiling and glared at him.  "I've never seen you so enthusiastic to work.  Wasn't your normal typing rate forty words per minute last I checked?"
..........Lois let her hands rest.  "Clark, you'll find out later.  Let's just say I scored gold on something."
.........."On the rooftop?"
..........Lois eyed him.  Clark was the most mild-mannered reporter she knew, and yet there was no one else on Earth more frustrating.  Although she could tell that the curiosities of other reporters had been piqued the moment she entered the office, only Clark seemed to have the guts to press any questions.
..........She held her tongue for a beat, or rather, her lower lip, which she tucked under her upper teeth as she eyed Clark.  "Yes, on the roof."  No point in denying that much.
.........."You must have seen something pretty incredible," said Clark.
.........."Yep.  Sure did," said Lois.  She returned to her typing, yet she maintained eye contact with Clark in some sort of staring contest.
.........."Whatever it was, given your spelling problems, which are already terrible, you're probably going to misspell half your words at this rate," said Clark.
..........Lois briefly broke the staring context to look down at her screen.  Sure enough, half the words were underlined in red squiggles.  Bullocks.  "I have spell-check on my side," she said.
.........."You might still want some peer revision," said Clark.
.........."Nope.  I have Chief to do that for me," said Lois, almost bursting at this point as she switched from the defense to her normal prideful state.  Clark only responded with the facial equivalent of a shrug.
..........From the other end of the office, editor-in chief Perry White rang out "Don't call me 'Chief!'"
..........Lois and Clark looked around and froze for a moment.  As animation returned to their bodies, they turned back to each other and for a moment, neither saying nor expressing anything.  Then, in unison, they laughed.
..........When Clark regained his composure, he sighed and returned to his work.  "I admire you ability to multitask, by the way."
..........Lois smiled to herself as she continued to write her article at top speeds.  For whatever reason - she didn't understand why - it wasn't a smirk, but a real smile, the same she had felt come to her eyes when she was on the rooftop.  "Thanks," she said.
..........When she glanced up, Clark was back at his work, adjusting his glasses and reading over his economics report.  When he noticed her looking at him, he smiled, or at least tried.  Suddenly she was struck at how sad he looked.  "It's just something I wish I could do better."
..........Clark returned to focus, but Lois was almost certain she saw him give something of himself away.  She knew it was none of her business, but she was a reporter.  She took note on everything.  Clark was more complex than people gave him credit for.  Most people were, as a general principle.  Lois stopped typing as new curiosities popped into her mind.  Her article could wait.
..........She averted her eyes away from Clark now and opened up a new document, the one where she kept a list of all her unanswered questions.  She typed a new bullet point: "What makes Clark sad?"  She saved and exited.  The document that was mostly red squiggles returned to the front of the screen.
..........The sound of clicking keys that filled the silence now belonged to Clark.
.........."Hey, Clark, do you have any friends?" asked Lois.
..........Clark stopped typing.  "I have my mother, and when I was in high school I had a friend named Pete Ross."
.........."No, I mean friends right now."
.........."Well I have you, Lois."  He said it with a straight face.
.........."You have got to be kidding me!" said Lois.  "I'm terrible to you.  I'm a brat.  I treat you like nothing."
.........."You're a greater hero for me than you give yourself credit for," said Clark.  "You're all those things, but you put up with me all the same.  Whenever you have a rant, you come to me first.  And let's not forget, we make an awesome team.  Remember when we investigated to see if Lex Luthor was twisting the arm of Senator Jennings?"
.........."Clark, the only reason I took you with me was because Chie - " she caught herself and cast a glance to Perry White's office, "Because Perry think we're perfect.  That, and you tripped and ruined everything for me.  Some team, huh?"
.........."Well, to my understanding you were pushing the boundaries of honest reporting anyway," said Clark.  "And you admitted as much."
..........Lois lifted a paperwieght and feigned a toss at Clark.  He flinched.  "Yeah, well I still would have had the ultimate story."
.........."Even better than the one you have right now?" asked Clark.
..........It was now Lois's turn to flinch.  "You changed the subject on me."
.........."I did?"
.........."Yes, Clark, you did, and it was totally a reporterly thing to do," said Lois.
.........."Sorry.  I should get back to my own article," said Clark.
.........."Wait, you can get that thing done in two minutes flat.  How fast can you type anyway?"
.........."Over nine thousand, when you're not looking."
..........Lois chuckled, cuaght off guard.  She didn't expect Clark to be the type of person to make that kind of reference.  "Okay, how about when I am looking?"
.........."Four hundred words per minute with ninety-eight percent accuracy," said Clark.
.........."See?  So at that rate you could get your boring business article done in a few minutes, plus a few extra just to organize your thoughts, but you're a genius anyway so it shouldn't take too long.  I can't imagine you'd be a busy person," said Lois.
..........Clark looked like he was struggling for a response.  In the end, he said nothing, just returned to his report.
.........."No, don't you do that to me," said Lois.  "Clark?  Clark!  C'mon, let's just talk.  What do you say to visiting Mickey's Diner?"  When he looked up at her she realized what she had said.  "No, not as a date.  Don't let that enter your mind.  As a friend.  As a coworker, because that's what coworkers do."
.........."Lois, no need to be defensive.  I asked you there the first day I met you, remember?  I understand," said Clark.
..........That was right.  Lois remembered sitting across from him and sharing with him her ambitions.  He had sat there, eating his food, taking it all in, and every once and a while threw in his little bits of Midwest wisdom.  Now that she thought about it, he had been awfully nice to her.  Maybe it was time she returned the favor.
.........."Well, it's a little more than that.  I met someone recently, someone with a heart of gold, someone kind, and he's sort of inspired me," said Lois.  "I want to be more like him, and this is the sort of thing he would do."
.........."'Whatever you do for the least of these you do unto me?'" quoted Clark.
.........."Uh, yeah, I see your reasoning there," said Lois.  "He would totally like you, by the way."
.........."I'm going to pretend I have no idea who you're talking about at this point," said Clark with a wry smile.
..........Lois closed her tight and scrunched up her face.  "Stupid...I can't believe I gave myself away there."  She let her face relax and took a deep breath.  "Yes, I guess I might as well share that with you, anyway.  We're friends, after all, like you said.  And Clark?"
.........."Yes?"
.........."You can proofread my paper when we get there."
..........Clark smiled with his eyes, but then his eyes went completely out of focus.  "Sorry, Lois, something just came up.  I have to go!  Sorry!"  He turned off his computer and jolted out of the office, leaving his roller chair spinning and Lois surprised.  What was with that Clark Kent?
..........Lois rested her cheek on one hand and sat there for a while, staring into the distance.  Her thoughts occasionally shifted back to her article, but Clark returned to her mind again and again, so much so that it surprised her.  He was an odd character, but maybe it was worth accepting Clark as her friend.
..........Then something came to her.  Her journalistic instincts came back, and she opened up her bullet list again to add her latest question.
.........."What's with that Clark Kent?"


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Sadder Than Thou

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Wisdom Oct 05 2012 · 153 views

:kaukau: People like to brag about their troubles.  One person mentions how their life has been difficult, and I know first-hand that there will always be someone else who will say "Oh yeah?  Well I've got you beat."  You had emotionally abusive parents?  Well he or she had emotionally and physically abusive parents.  Your job had a cruel boss?  Well he or she was in the military and had to go through a drill sergeant.  You don't deserve to be sad with your life problems because there's someone else in America who is unemployed, yet they don't deserve to be sad because there are probably people in China who have things even worse.  Not even sweatshop workers deserve to be sad, however, because Holocaust survivors trump them all.

So nobody sympathizes with one another because everybody thinks that his or her problems are or were worse.  People with seemingly lesser problems don't know what they have and they should be grateful.  On top of that, they should spend more time sympathizing with those who have bigger, i.e. more dramatic, problems.

That doesn't work.  It creates a selfish world.  It should matter how extreme someone's sadness is.  What should matter is that they're sad.  Sad is sad is sad.  It shouldn't matter how sad you are compared to someone else; that's a different reality.  The point is, either way, that you're not happy.  What gives anyone the authority to tell someone else that they don't have the right to be sad?  Everyone has the right to be sad when bad things happen.  I don't praise depression and angst, but isn't it a good thing that humans can feel solemn when anything, even something fairly minor, is wrong with the world?

So maybe instead of caring about ourselves and our own sadness, we should for once stand with each other.  I have reasons to be sad and consider my life a struggle.  For different reasons, someone else can say the same thing for herself.  With that as a common bond, shouldn't it be a reason for us to come together?  Then united we can hope, united we can dream, and some day in our perfect unity we will discover love.

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Superman and Der Übermensch as Conflicting Roots for Worldview

Posted by Jean Valjean , in Wisdom, Superman Oct 04 2012 · 93 views
Supeman, Wisdom, Philosophy
:kaukau: The following is a worldview illustration, for worldviews are like tree trunks.  The trunk begets the limbs which beget the twigs which beget the leaves, representing individual opinions and applications.  In all its complexity, everything is derivative of the core idea, the trunk.  Illustration enters into metaphor in the form of roots, which are the many arguments that support and form a basis for the worldview trunk.  The argument here is made by comparing the end results of two classic literary figures, Der Übermensch and Superman.  These two ideals make their cases for big ideas, including the place of humanity and its ultimate goal, but when tested one case should stand above the other.  However, discussing humanity's placement and goals is a broad subject, so it is necessary to narrow matters down to a specific question that directly relates to the comparison at hand.  Who is the real ideal for humanity?  Thanks to the art of story, which highlights the logical outcome of such a question, the answer should be obvious.  Superman is the true ideal for humanity and Der Übermensch is not.

When Friedrich Nietzsche composed the idea of Der Übermensch, what he proposed was a future where man grew beyond morality, as in theory man could do this if he was sufficiently evolved and morality was originally only a man-made tool invented for practical purposes.  There are some who, in their own subtle ways, accept some of these notions, where there are certain extreme conditions that justify different standards for given individuals.

Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster played with this idea, except they did so with a clear mindset that Der Übermensch was a villain when they translated it to "Superman" and toyed with a comic where an evil psychic genius took over the world.  For whatever reason, they turned this idea on its heel, transformed the character's mental abilities into purely physical powers, made the character a hero, and over time made him the complete opposite of Nietzsche's Übermensch, yet significantly keeping the name.  In Siegel's mind, he was still tackling the idea of a supreme human, but he came to a radically different interpretation than Nietzsche.

The secret to Superman's greatness is that no matter how powerful he is, no matter how much society changes and no matter how advanced his Kryptonian technology is, he is still bound by eternal and unchanging laws of morality.  He is always subject to the law and to ethical obligations ultimately greater than him.  The Superman code of conduct has gone strong for seventy-four years as of this writing and has proven its worthiness.  The moral to take from him is that if he isn't above morality when he is theoretically evolved to a state of perfection mere mortals can only dream about, then nobody can.  He doesn't need them; morals don't serve him, yet ultimately his life holds more meaning when he serves the values he's subjected to.

Meanwhile, Superman's archenemy is fittingly an Übermensch archetype.  Lionel and Lex Luthor are, after all, far too sophisticated for the simplistic morals that bind ordinary men.  Through the force of their will and determination to find ways to get ahead, they surely demonstrate old conventions obsolete.  Standards that bind men like Jonathan Kent are nice, but they're not for Luthors.  A Luthor is above the normal concerns of humanity because they are, after all, not normal humans but men who reign supreme in their self-built empire.  They deserve that break, and as a sign of their strength they deserve to create their own model for ideal behavior that suites their own vision.

Good for them, except no matter how well they tame their own minds like good Neoplatonists and conquer irrational Freudian psychology based around reproductive instinct, these men and their morality are still subject to reasoning based on basic animal instinct known as the drive for survival.  Der Übermensch thinks that he has become like Plato and moved on to that higher realm where the mind departs from matter and the Cave is a thing of the past, and yet no matter what the Luthor's philosophies embrace what is inherently an attribute of survival instinct when they seek self-advancement.  Supposedly the prudent man knows to confirm his security, yet he struggles for naught.  Just one look as William Cullen Bryant's poem "Thanatopsis" and this point drives itself into certainty.  These men struggle against Death, but Death always claims them in the end.  How, then, are they being winners by playing a losing gambit?

The common man will never be anything but the common man.  He will die somehow or other, and as the ages pass memory of him will fade away as the people who laid him into the ground join him in turn, leaving him no sense of worldly survival whatsoever.  Any morality he invents will die with him.  There is no empowerment, only false promises.  Meanwhile, Superman and his family on the farm held communion with something that never dies, a morality above man.  Who wouldn't consider it a privilege to serve such a fine cause?  To have that to their names when they pass into that mysterious realm, they can more truthfully say that they lived before they died.


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