Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'LSO'.
Found 8 results
-
EternityTwo weeks after launch — or fourteen days, or three hundred thirty-six hours — and the Eternity was already in trouble.Never. No, negative, nada, et cetera — any word signifying utter disagreement would do. If only Evelyn Moore could adopt a tone as cold as the dead universe outside the Eternity’s forward viewport. Maybe Fate would bend to her.She furrowed her brow and decided upon a simple query: “What the devil are you saying?”The cockpit was small, cramped, and very sweaty. Outwardly, that didn’t faze her partner, Nielson Crane, whose face as illumined by the flashing lights of the control board was very calm and collected. His forehead was damp, though, and not only were no drinks in their spaceship served in cups that allowed spillage, the AC unit was turned on its lowest livable setting to conserve power. They floated against their seatbelts because they couldn’t afford to activate artificial gravity.“What I’m saying,” he intoned, “is that we still don’t have enough power to do the dimension-hop. Not on schedule.”Silence.“The generator was supposed to have stored enough power to do it by now,” Nielson explained, as if Evelyn needed the explanation.“So we’re stuck with the cargo in the entirely wrong universe.”“Yes” — a reply oddly plain considering their situation.“For how long?”She regretted the words the instant they slipped past her lips. They hung in the air like memories of a bad dream; Nielson was slow to dispel them with his steady tone.“Till we can gather enough power.” He paused uncharacteristically. “If we can.”That wasn’t steady enough, Evelyn wanted to say. But she didn’t: The last thing she needed was Nielson being strained beyond his breaking point.Instead, she stared pointedly at the blank space in the viewport, blank and black as if a blanket had been drawn over all the stars to tuck them in for the night. Except, she knew the stars were all dead. Wisps of hydrogen and helium still floated through the universe, but they were too far apart to be affected by gravity.Even gravity could be rendered obsolete — a sobering thought.* * *Sixty-one Earth days — one thousand four hundred sixty-four hours: That was how long the power of the Eternity was projected to last after its launch from the last living planet in the universe, Iris.About four Earth days — ninety-seven hours: That was how long it took for the Eternity to reach a safe distance from Iris’s star, for the dimension-hop would require both time and power, things not plenteous in the vicinity of a red giant.Almost five Earth days — one hundred nineteen hours: That was how long it took for Iris’s star to blow. Fifteen billion people turned off as if by the flick of a switch. Maybe some of them had gotten off in another rescue ship; Evelyn hadn’t stuck around to find out.She dreamed about it, though. She dreamed about the universe’s last visible star tearing itself to pieces before her gaze and imagined screams renting the void like knives. Thanks to the Eternity’s slow engine, she had plenty of idle time for nightmares. A week passed as the Eternity gathered power, during which Evelyn’s fitful naps were interrupted only by spontaneous awakenings beneath dampened sheets, sporadic bursts of reading, and tepid meals under the dimmed lights of the dining area (food and drinks were cold because the power needed for cooking couldn’t be spared).She had never expected to become tired of slush drinks, but she also had never expected to carry the weight of humanity upon her shoulders.Nielson was generally in the engine room. He and Evelyn didn’t meet much; their sleep schedules were incompatible. In space, internal chronometers were useless. No day, no night. Nothing but emptiness.Doesn’t nature abhor vacuums? The question was moot, but Evelyn asked it of herself anyway. It didn’t make her feel better.* * *Nine days.Nine days since all the spaceship’s extraneous features had been turned off so its generator could gather charge. Nine days of utter abandonment, of suspense, and of biding time.Sometime during those nine twenty-four-hour sequences, Evelyn had taken her first antidepressant. When the spaceship began to sputter and the lights began to flicker, she had to fight an urge to down their entire supply.Nielson was absent when she floated out of her room, just as he had been the previous nine days. Using the rungs helpfully mounted upon the corridor walls, she navigated to the engine cavity and poked her upper body through the opening.He turned from his position by an open panel in the far wall and broke the news bluntly: “Something’s wrong with the generator.”Evelyn only stared. Nielson was bound via thin fabric straps to the wall beside the paneling so he wouldn’t float awry; his hands were just removed from the wires within, and a screen beside the panel showed a flashing red alert: Power Generator operating at 60%. Minimum acceptable proficiency is 95%. Statistics followed. Floating there in the doorway, Evelyn found she had forgotten the mathematical work that went into her degree in Computer Engineering; the numbers looked like squiggles to her.“We knew something was wrong nine days ago,” Evelyn snapped. “So do you know what’s wrong with it?”She willed Nielson to say yes. Indeed, naturally, why wouldn’t I? — anything indicating dismissal of the foreboding that had crept upon Evelyn’s shoulders.But he didn’t say anything. He only shrugged.* * *Evelyn was sick of numbers.Nielson had crunched a lot of them to estimate the generator’s total output before its fuel ran out. The results were also numbers, albeit unpleasant, irksomely low ones. The numbers insisted, in short, that Evelyn and Nielson would not be able to complete their dimension-hop — but they would die: in the cold, out of power, their lungs recycling dead air.Numbers were now the enemy.This, Evelyn supposed, was why the mission directors had been loath to include any strong drugs in the Eternity — they hadn’t wanted its crew members to get any ideas. She had taken another antidepressant before her last beauty sleep, though, and was certain she’d seen Nielson chewing on one of his own while he prepared a meal.The fuel was expected to deplete in approximately thirty-six days and eight hours — T minus eight hundred seventy-two hours, or fifty-two thousand three hundred twenty minutes, or three million one hundred thirty-nine thousand two hundred seconds. Nielson needed all that time to determine how to send the cargo on the dimension-hop by itself.It wasn’t easy. While the cargo had been designed to disengage from the rest of the ship, and it was conveniently located near the engine room, the engine didn’t detach with the cargo, and that rendered their proximity unhelpful.Nielson still slaved away, though. Evelyn helped where she could, but her demons kept her from doing much. Several butterfly cocoons must have been in her stomach since the launch, because she now constantly felt a fluttering in her stomach like a billion tiny wings in a fittingly tiny space.* * *T-minus thirty-four days and eleven hours.“I just need to disconnect the cargo and bring it down to the engine room.”Evelyn’s gaze was probably blanker than she intended. She shrugged it off, though, by fooling with her food packet so she seemed to be paying attention to her victuals. “Yeah. I mean — I’ll help if you need it.”“I do need the assistance.”“Well then.”Silence. This was the extent of their interactions nowadays: terse words, clipped gestures, blank expressions. Rarely did they speak for more than minutes at a time. The darkened lights of the Eternity were an accurate gauge for their emotions. At least for Evelyn’s; Nielson’s stolid demeanor revealed none of his thoughts. Sometimes he seemed more distant than Evelyn felt.If the only way they could deal with emotion was by alienating it, they were asking for trouble.* * *Three hours was the longest Evelyn had worked without pause since... since when, she couldn’t exactly recall. Memory had been discarded of late; memory was useless, after all, if it was scrambled by depression.The cargo was a large, metallic cylinder, approximately two meters in diameter and three and one-half meters tall. A display on its chest showed no seal failures or other damage. Detaching it had taken a preternaturally long amount of time, especially considering unscrewing bolts was much harder in zero-G.The cargo’s inertia proved detrimental at first, but nevertheless Evelyn and Nielson maneuvered it to the doorway without serious trouble.They paused there. The doorway, as Nielson had verbally feared earlier during their labor, was too small.T-minus thirty-three days and twenty-one hours.* * *Lying in bed that rest period, Evelyn dreamed of Iris torn to colorful ribbons, turning and mixing and blossoming like the colors of a kaleidoscope. But this time, there was a twist.Maybe the antidepressant she had taken before retiring to her bed was the reason behind her emotional distance from the event.Whereas before she had felt the screams of the dying planet, she now watched the planet and star in death throes as if through a television screen. Fifteen billion was a statistic; black was another color; engine failure was within the Eternity’s realm of failure; numbers were just numbers. All was right.She woke up sans cold sweat, her heart beating at a leisurely pace. She still didn’t feel better.* * *Only idly did Evelyn check the cockpit’s clock after waking. It was counting, just as it should be; why did she need to read its display?Nielson didn’t question Evelyn’s robotic motions or intonated replies; nor did he question her sudden break in the middle of disassembling the cargo hold’s doorway to calm her spiraling head, or her too-common sips from a water canteen she held. Maybe he understood. Evelyn was too lost in her idyllic reverie to care.* * *“To the right — no, other right—”Unintentionally, Evelyn giggled. Nielson’s hesitation was evident in the abrupt shudder of the cargo as it floated through the deconstructed arch of the doorway.Evelyn was nearly crushed against the far wall by the metal canister, but she turned it at the last moment. It stopped completely this time. Nielson’s worried face pored around the edge of the metal canister. Evelyn couldn’t meet his eyes.He didn’t speak till blood rushed in Evelyn’s ears.“Be careful.”She was vaguely surprised by the amount of care in his voice but passed it off as a small aberration in his normal mannerisms. She was being careful, of course. That was fact.“I’m fine,” she insisted to assuage Nielson’s doubts, and promptly realized she had failed in that task.Still they floated. Still she waited. Nielson would speak when he decided to do so. He was deliberate in his movements; as an engineer and scientist, he couldn’t afford to be less. Evelyn decided Nielson had fallen on his favorite pastime: thinking.His next words, delivered seconds before the cargo began moving again, were cavalier: “Watch it, coming your way.”* * *T-minus twenty-five days and three hours.Moving the cargo into the engine room had been but the start.The engine room was attached to the rest of the ship via a mess of cables and fuel lines. Any ruptures could mean power leakage, which could easily result in the mission rendered completely impossible. The danger was tangible, able to be tasted in the Eternity’s musty, sweaty air.Nielson had reassigned Evelyn to the cockpit after T-minus thirty-two days, stating her condition as grounds for undue risk. She had asked if he thought she was going insane. No! Impossible, not a chance, you’re completely sane — any honest denial would have sufficed.Nielson had shaken his head and returned to work.Evelyn hadn’t seen him since, but whenever she neared the passage to the engine room between rest hours, meals, and “work”, she could hear faint noises that meant he was still working.In contrast to weeks before, the cockpit was dim, only several colored lights flickering on and off in contrast to the twenty-plus previously lit. The proximity counter on the starship’s dashboard displayed a number large enough for scientific notation: 5.98 × 109 kilometers and counting. The Eternity was alone, and by extension, Evelyn and Nielson were, too.A bad time for Evelyn to remember she hadn’t taken an antidepressant for the past forty-some hours.Combating jittery nerves, she bound herself to her chair and leaned the headrest back. She couldn’t watch space fly by if she couldn’t see it. That left nothing to do but wait till a warning klaxon sounded, and she had gotten good at waiting.She stole glances at the clock several times as she descended into lethargy. The timer read T-minus twenty-five days, two hours, twenty-eight minutes, fifty-five seconds before the last time she closed her eyes that hour.* * *Spinning kaleidoscopes of fire burned behind Evelyn’s eyelids when Nielson entered the cockpit. A rap on the doorway brought Evelyn from her stupor. Unclenching her clammy hands, she checked the clock: T-minus four days, ten hours.The pilot’s seat felt suddenly cold. Inhaling deeply, Evelyn pushed a dark lock of hair out of her right eye and turned to the impassive figure floating in the doorway. “Yeah, Nielson?”“I’m done.”Evelyn paused, blinked. “What?”“I said I’m done.” He took Evelyn’s surprised pause as a query for elaboration. “After we moved the cargo to the engine room, I shut down the engine temporarily, moved the power to the Eternity’s backup storage cells, then moved the generator and main power stores to the engine room and plugged them in again before relocating most of the energy. Hard work, but I think I did it right.”Nielson looked vaguely pleased. Evelyn could sense the anticlimax. “So... that’s that? We’re ready to, uh, launch the cargo?”“Yeah. I mean yes. That is, right before the generator reaches its maximum output. We could do it before, but then we wouldn’t be certain the cargo has enough power to drive it wherever in the next universe over.”What was Evelyn supposed to say? “Oh, how wonderful, what good fortune,” wouldn’t fit; neither would, “Wow, Nielson, you just saved the mission and you’re still acting gloomy,” or even, “You know, you aren’t helping my gut any — the butterflies still want out.”She shrugged. Nielson hesitated as if on the verge of speaking further, but then he seemed to realize Evelyn’s trouble and retreated from the cockpit with an amiable nod.Now Evelyn had the sweaty air of the cockpit to herself and nothing to do but wait and twiddle her thumbs: a potentially volatile combination, especially since it left so much room for thought — and what could she think about but the end?She had never been particularly religious; she nonetheless murmured a quick prayer to the darkness outside the forward viewport.* * *T-minus thirty-two minutes, or one thousand nine hundred twenty seconds, or eight-fifteenths of an hour.The end was a frightening concept. Evelyn couldn’t remember what had happened before her birth, only after. Memory had begun with life; would it conclude in the same fashion?After the cargo launched, Nielson had earlier explained to Evelyn, there would only be enough power to sustain the Eternity for a few minutes. Then, he had sounded strong. Now Nielson’s fingers gripped a control hard enough that his knuckles turned white. He had been reduced to Evelyn’s level.Evelyn hadn’t bothered taking an antidepressant today. Why should she? — soon, she wouldn’t be able to feel depressed.She paused. Would she still feel emotion? She’d never subscribed to a particular theology; death, and by extension the afterlife, was a mystery to her, hidden behind the same black veils that covered this universe’s stars.The minutes tolled like a church bell: ponderously, significantly. Now thirty; now twenty-nine, then twenty-eight, then twenty-seven, and Evelyn tore her eyes from the monitor before the waiting drove her crazy.“The engines have bare minimum power,” said Nielson at length. A faint vibrato affected his typical sonorous tone. “T-minus... twelve minutes, fifteen seconds.”A pause. The minutes tolled, tolled...“What if it doesn’t work?”Perhaps Evelyn attained death-induced nirvana at that moment: Her doubt about the success of the mission had not triggered the tiniest prick of fear. Maybe adrenaline had choked her bloodstream so she wouldn’t feel a thing; her body, after all, wasn’t clueless about the situation. Maybe her engineering training was kicking in thanks to exhilaration. Probability was a statistic. Nothing more, nothing less. That was the only way Evelyn could keep from freaking out.Nielson shook his head like he was ridding himself of a fly. “Don’t think that. We did all we could. Now we have to trust luck.”“If the luck doesn’t come through, then...?”“Then... we’ve failed.”Nielson bowed his head and choked back tears, and Evelyn suddenly remembered Nielson wasn’t as unaffected as he had seemed during the past month. To his credit, he neither sobbed nor lost his composure; his body just hadn’t been able to hold all the emotion brewing in his chest without some form of catharsis.T-minus six minutes, and Evelyn had already lost her ability to communicate effectively.“This is the end,” Nielson continued. “I — I’m sorry I’m breaking down like this, but I did what I could. It’s out of our control now. We just have to trust our work isn’t in vain. That was why we were sent out here to do this: Whether or not we die is irrelevant — as long as we aren’t expunged completely and our spirit lives on...”He inhaled. “Sorry,” he breathed.“No,” Evelyn responded. She reached to hold Nielson’s hand where it lay over its control switch; she barely noticed the cold pit that settled in her stomach as she ceased pouring energy into her façade of apathy. “Everyone, well, feels stuff, don’t they? You’re only human.”“Take out ‘only’ and you have my opinion.”Evelyn nodded in understanding and didn’t add that she had held numerous mental debates with herself about whether or not Nielson was a robot. “T-minus four minutes, forty-eight seconds,” she instead stated, flicking a few release switches to prime the engines and placing her hand on the release and ignition key. Her breaths were short; her lungs were trying to cram a lifetime’s worth of oxygen intake into four and a half minutes. “Engines primed. Ready for release and ignition. Your orders, Nielson.”“Hold.”Four minutes left and both Evelyn and Nielson wore masks of professionalism. Three minutes left and Evelyn was regularly checking her pulse to ensure her heart didn’t stop early. Two minutes left and the energy meter was crawling upward at a snail’s pace; no more charge.“Release.”Evelyn pressed the switch.The Eternity shuddered as the engine room and engines broke away, and Evelyn triggered a rearview screen on the forward viewport. The release triggered rotational propulsion that rotated the detached starship section away from the Eternity proper and aimed it into empty space. An automated trigger activated the engines. They gained momentum, and then the inter-dimensional technology, coupled with the engines in the Eternity’s construction, activated.A burst of acceleration. A flash. The engines were gone.“Ready?”Evelyn glanced to Nielson. She was still afraid, but a faint smile nevertheless graced her lips. She had done what she could; now fate was in control.“Ready.”Nielson flicked another switch and the lights were extinguished. The Eternity was dead in space, but orange and red still flickered in Evelyn’s gaze.* * *A flash.The engine room carried no navigational systems save for sensors that had been embedded across the entirety of the Eternity; they possessed automated proximity systems that would activate propulsion whenever an object came too near. No A.I. was aboard. No humans could control its movements, either, so the task fell to chance.Carried by the tremulous hands of dumb luck, the engine room-turned-detritus floated into a billion-kilometer-wide gyre of hydrogen, helium, and slightly heavier elements. Dumb luck brought it into the gravity well of the forming star and let it adrift. Dumb luck saw to it that, years after its arrival in the arm of a galaxy later to be known as the Milky Way, what remained of the Eternity entered a collision course with a planet in its final stages of formation.It struck the atmosphere and gleamed like a shooting star. Its heat shields lasted long enough to protect the cargo during the initial entry; then the ship fractured and broke, and the cargo container was shot forth.Only seconds after its expulsion from the burning wreckage of the Eternity’s engine room, it too exploded.Except, this time, the explosion was voluntary.The automated release system’s job done, it shut down. The sections of the metal cylinder spiraling through the air now broke apart, releasing frozen chunks of liquid that transformed first into rain, then into steam in the air of the planet someday to be termed Earth. The metal fragments were lowered to the ground by wind, no more than another sporadic shower of space debris.Amino acids now floated on the wind, mingling with chemical fumes rising from the hot earth below. The cargo was delivered, the seeds sown. Humanity was not dead, after all.
-
The discovery of this ancient document has led certain renowned scientists to further sound the depths of its history. Countless experts have put their wits together in efforts to translate the text to find meaning. Conspiracy theorists insist that it's a cipher of some kind, and that hidden beneath the surface lay clues, a hidden map, maybe. But in trying to look up through the surface they forget they are above it to begin with. If they only looked down, they would see the truth.They entirely ignore the true context of the document. I can but hope that my humble efforts to preserve this meaning have succeeded.Love is a strange thing. It reduces the sanest of men to blundering fools. Somehow when that inexplicable feeling comes over us we lose hold of our senses. What else, indeed, but madness could induce a man to behead a weed, strangle it with twine, and give it to a woman as a show of affection? Where can we find the rationality in comparing a woman to the blinding light and sweating heat of the sun, or to the wild, mindless beasts that live among us?And where, I have asked but to receive no answer, is the sense in giving a woman a mass of land and comparing her to it? How in any way can this "sentiment" even be called by such a name?It all began when she started thinking about legends. It's dangerous enough when a woman starts to think at all, but to be thinking of legends! Legends are strange in their own right. If love make a man do delusive things, legend make him see delusive things. And to fall in love with a legend is to set a course for illimitable trouble. Yet that's what she did.They say the island exists somewhere in the seas to the west. They call it a Paradise. Those who go searching for it either find it and stay there, or die in the endeavor, which leaves me to wonder who brings the stories back, but she didn't care about that. She had already fallen in love, and there was no stopping her now.Love makes a woman take actions as strange as a man. And if you had heard her repeat the tales of this legendary island where there was peace and prosperity, where there was no death and no danger, where the seasons were easy and the soil fertile, where predator and prey lived in harmony; where the sun always shone but never too hot, the wind always blew but never too cold, the waves wept the shore but never too loud, the rain fell when necessary but never too hard; where the days were long and the nights even longer, and strife and sorrow were inexistent; if you had heard with your ears, as had I with mine, the wistful, passionate way she had spoken of these things; and if you too had been captivated by her engaging loveliness, by the ebon ribbons of velvety hair, by the violet sheen of her soft lips, by the scintillation in her eyes, as any man living well would have been; then you would not scorn me for what I did.And I promised her things. Mad things, absurd things. I promised I would find that island for her, and take her there to it, and build a city there, and that we would live out our lives in this Paradise. I promised I would name it all after her. I promised that I would love her until the end of my days.And she kissed me then. I kissed her very warmly in return, for the first and last time. But I have since found myself meditating upon a thought I prefer not to entertain, as difficult as ignoring its urgent exhortation be. I wonder if it was truly me she kissed then . . . or my promise. And then I scold myself for even allowing the doubt to enter my mind.And whether I intended to keep my vows or not I do not know. But I did. And so it was that before very much time had passed we commissioned our vessel and set sail.I am a man given to misgivings. And the longer we sailed and the longer we searched, the greater a new misgiving became. What if we did find the island? What if it did exist? A Paradise such as this would not last for ever. If we found it, others would as well. Others with swords and spears and arrows and slings. The powers of the world would snatch at this new territory until it had been torn to shreds in the skirmish.When I voiced my doubts to her, she answered simply, "Then we'll hide it." And when I asked How, she said, "We'll find a way." This was her answer to everything. How would we locate the island? "We would find a way." I think she laid too much stock in my abilities to achieve the impossible.An example of this came later, when we had been searching for years to no avail. She became ill, and I insisted we make port until she recovered, but she refused to allow it. She would hear of nothing but our continued, uninterrupted questing. I asked her how she proposed to convalesce on the sea. Her answer, "I'll find a way."And when she didn't, when her prevalent solution proved fallacious; and she lay on her deathbed, and I kneeled at her side; and I asked her how I would go on without her; can you guess what she said to me then?"You'll find a way."My love, rest peacefully. I swear, if this fabled island exists, I will find it, as I promised you. I will build there the city which I promised you. And I will hide it away from the cruel world that, should its callous hands seize the land, would so certainly defile it. I will find our Paradise. Though I failed to protect you, I will always protect our new home. On your memory I swear it, my sweet Atlantis. . . .The authorities on such matters say that this could be a historical find. They say that centuries of legend and mystery may soon be cleared up.But I say they are entirely missing the point. This was never meant to be a treasure map. It was never meant to clear up some mystery of a mystical land. It was merely meant to explore something even more mysterious and mystical as it existed within the author's heart. It was meant only to be what it is, for what else can it be? It is nothing more now than it ever was: a love letter. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
-
Legend of BZ-Koro "I would like to thank all of you being here today." Lesovikk said calmly through the microphone to all the citizens. The crowd, which consisted of Toa, Matoran, Makuta, humans, machines, super heroes, and various other kinds of beings, were all sitting chairs in front of the Toa of Air. Lesovikk, who was standing at a podium in front of the crowd, went on with his speech. "As we all know, this is the ten year anniversary of BZ-Koro." he said. "It is a day of celebration, a day which will never be forgotten in the legends to come. It is a feat that this city would have never reach without all of you, my fellow citizens." A few of the citizens clapped their hands in response to the Toa's words. Lesovikk paused for a second, allowing those few beings to conclude their applause before going on. "But before we take our city into the future, let take a moment to remember its past." the Toa continued. "And who better to tell the tale of our history than our City Elder, Turaga Vakama!" The crowd broke out in applause and cheers as Lesovikk stepped aside and Vakama took the stage. The Toa pulled the microphone out of its holding spot and gave it to the Elder as they passed by each other. The Turaga stood beside the podium. He didn't have a tablet containing his speech in his hand, for he didn't need it. The speech he was about to give would come from his heart. "Thank you, thank you, to all of you. Seeing you all here brings me great joy." Vakama began as the crowd settled down. "I know that Mata Nui, our city's founder, would be truly proud if he were here with us today." Vakama paused as he said those words. Thinking about his friend nowadays always brought him a sense of sadness. The Turaga pushed it aside and began to tell the Legend of BZ-Koro. "As many of you know, Mata Nui proposed the idea of BZ-Koro twelve years ago." the Turaga said. "He said that it would be a city where beings of any kind could live together in peace. It wouldn't matter if you were a human, Toa, Makuta, alien, or whatever you were. Anyone would be welcomed. This is what told to every being he met as traveled through the land." "Now, Mata Nui wasn't a fool. When he proposed his idea to others, he knew that, sometimes, there would be fights, that there would be disagreements, and that there would be beings who would come there to cause chaos. That was why he came up with many of the rules which we still follow today. 'They would go a long way to help maintain peace,' he stated." "But many people didn't believe him. They laughed in his face, stating that this city would never survive with so many different beings living in it. They claimed that its citizens, when a conflict between them rose up, would fight each other to the death instead of talking it out. And, truthfully, they did have a point." Vakama smiled. "But Mata Nui simply said 'The same could be said for every city in the universe'." Many people in the crowd nodded their heads in agreement as Vakama quoted those words. "So Mata Nui set out to find the land that would house his city." the Elder went on. "He, along with myself and a few other beings who also believed in his dream, searched for over a year for this land. The land which we currently live in today. Along the way, many other beings heard of his dream and joined with our group. Together, we discovered this very land and claimed it. We built our homes out of stone. We planted gardens for food, built weapons and walls for protection, and in the process, became a community." Vakama looked out at the crowd for a moment. There wasn't a soul in the crowd that didn't have their full attention on him. "It was that first night, after all the buildings and walls were completed, after everyone was surrounding a huge campfire, that Mata Nui officially named the new city." Vakama said. "Many of you here were there that night when he stood up among us and suggested that the name of our new home was BZ-Koro. I think I speak for everyone that was there that it was a night that will never be forgotten in history." "As the years went be, many different beings came to live with us in our city. The majority of them had been seeking out a peaceful place to live, just like the founders of this city. They helped BZ-Koro expand and flourish into the city it is today." Vakama paused again, trying not to tear up as he told next part of the story. It was the part he wished he could forget. "As Mata Nui had said, fights and disagreements did arise from among us as time went on. And with them came arguments that, sadly, led to unnecessary conflict. It was in one of these conflicts that Mata Nui, a true friend to many of us here today, lost...his life." The Turaga looked down and let out a sigh, quietly attempting to regain his composure. Though he knew deep down that none of the people present would've blamed him for braking down. All of them either that seen or heard of how Mata Nui and Vakama had been close friends. After a couple seconds of silence, he looked back up at the people, his composure regained. "But we did not let his passing destroy BZ-Koro, as many predicted would happen. "he said with a sudden confidence." We instead found peaceful resolutions to all the disagreements that arose, which helped the city grow even more. We established rules that kept the majority of future conflicts in check, and thus keep the city as peaceful as it could be. I know that was Mata Nui's dream, and I'm so glad that I've lived to see it come to pass." The Turaga raised his staff into the air. "So now let us be grateful for this day. For it is a day of a great victory! It is a day that many said would never happen, but were proven wrong! It is a day that we, the citizens of BZ-Koro, celebrate ten years of living in this wonderful city. And may the next ten years be just as great! Thank you." The crowd once again broke out into applause and cheers, but they were twice as loud as before. Vakama simply nodded his head as he made his way back to his seat. Thank you, Mata Nui. he thought as he sat down. I know that you were here, you would be proud. _________________________________________ This is my entry for the Short Story portion of the LSO. I don't think it's my best short story ever, but I still had fun writing it. Any comments and/or criticism would be great.
-
Here's my entry for the 2012 Library Summer Olympics Short Stories Artistic Gymnastic Reimagine (good, HH, you didn't have to make it such a mouthful). Lemme know what you think, and good luck to my fellow contesters! * * * I * * * Teridax had never cried before.What unholy wickedness was this? Chaos loosed without limit, without inhibition, bereft of the goodness he was to uphold. His brethren, his own kind...terror ravaged the land itself. Death was omnipresent. The sky was heavy upon Destral, almost otherworldly in its purple shade. The scene was dreamlike. Nightmarish. The land bled and flooded the waters as shrieks pierced the heavens and Teridax's own heart.The plague was a systematically murderous virus. It knew not the meaning of mercy--it ripped through the body, ripped through the species, but most of all it ripped through Teridax's soul.He supposed that was selfish of him. But he was a Makuta...he was Makuta. He watched his family die, and the agony that overtook him and coursed through his skin and his heart and his bloodstream stole from him his own body. He merely watched as control over his body, the only thing he yet possessed, was ripped from him as well. and tears fell from his face as blood fell into the sea."T-t-t...Teri...Teridax..."The voice was almost unrecognizable in its torment. He who was once so confident, almost arrogant in his prowess was diminished to a creature who felt only the agony. And yet he held on still, and that broke the dam. Rain fell free from the clouds within the Makuta's eyes."Miserix?""T-Teridax...I will die--""My master. Destiny will not f-forsake us...the Great Spirit created us and he will not abandon us.""Teridax. Destiny has..." He coughed up blood, wheezed several times. With each spasm Teridax felt the breath rush from his own lungs. "Destiny has forsaken us because the Great Spirit has forsaken us.""Miserix--""Do you not see, Teridax!"Silence."Teridax, let me finish. I will d-die....I will die if not for y-you. I have...I've given you a squadron. The virus has not yet t-touched them." His voice cracked on this last. "Y-you will find Turaga Girj. H-he will heal us."Teridax gaped. "He will stop this?""He will stop this.""My master...master! Where is the squadron!""They will find you.""Miserix, I will not fail you."At that, Miserix grimaced. The gesture seemed to take all his might--his eyes quivered, and suddenly all the strength left within him was crackling in the air as his own body crackled weakly. The sneer upon his face was pasted there, painted by the same demons that had torn apart his body and eaten his soul and conquered his mind. And Teridax knew he would be dead before he returned.If only to fulfill his last wishes, Teridax would not fail.There will be no failure. * * * II * * * Silence had reigned for the past thirteen hours and twenty-four minutes. Teridax had been counting--there wasn't much else to do in flight. None of them had been much in the mood to talk. Death and the memory of death had a tendency to render any spoken word useless. Disrespectful, even. Yes, that was it...the dead had no speech, only rest. Until the antidote was secured, they were nothing more than an extension of their species, and if the Makuta were quiet they too must travel in silence. They too must--His reflections on the universe were interrupted by Tuck, his voice shrill, almost piercing. The screams that pierced the purple sky knifed through his mind, and his wings wavered as the steel of memory tore through them...he got hold of his body again and shook the past momentarily. He existed now, and memory's pain thrived only in his mind. He would remember his mission, but the sensation would be left to before. "Boss, land to the east."Teridax's head twitched and his body lost total control while his wings were still raised, sending him plummeting before he regained it. He was beyond exhausted; in fact, he felt close to death, but he could not form those words and expel them from his lips while the memory of his brothers remained intact. Tuck chuckled. Binkell shot him a look of dark disapproval--out of the six, Bink was the least likely to approve jokes about the situation. Never much of a humorous individual prior to the plague's outbreak, his lover had died in the catastrophe. Brutally. In an attempt to escape the virus's tortures she'd jumped into the sea, too pained of both heart and body to form final words for her lover. For the past thirteen hours (and twenty-eight minutes, now) his aura had been, to say the least, upset.Teridax recalled the plan. D'vader, the more youthful of the squadron, had flown up further--praise the child for his exuberance and ambition--in an attempt to find land. Once he'd found the place Miserix had spoken of (hold back the flood, Teridax, you're in the company of soldiers), he would light a flare for the rest to see when they flew over. Spearheading the group, Teridax made a lazy right as the others followed. They were still a couple kio too far to pinpoint any fire.Anticipation sparked between the Makuta, but Teridax's ever-cautious better judgment kept him slow and steady. Tuck was literally bursting, barely able to keep in a straight line. Thirteen days and thirty-five minutes without punching anything in the face was quite likely killi--uh, causing immense amounts of mental stress to him.Huski spoke up, her voice gentle, fragile, even, but firm. "You think that's it?"Teridax's chest heaved, several times...anxiety was a force unknown to these guardians of Destiny, and that made it all the more potent. It gave the illusion of relevance, of ability in the face of adversity, denying the reality of helplessness. It stole your mind and caged it in a time that didn't belong to you. In their insufferable anxiety they had all denied to voice their emotion, to actualize it, and Huski had broken that wall in four words.She'd always had a way with words."I think it's worth confirming. We can't afford to screw this up. D'vader's been a reliable informant as long as I've known him."Tohu grumbled. Teridax never appreciated Tohu's grumbles--far more archaic and undoubtedly experienced than the others, he'd been climbing Destral's military ranks for a literally unquantifiable amount of time. He was the wisest of the group, and apparently that licensed him to advise every junior Makuta as to the performance of their every action. "Which is maybe two years, Teridax. He's got less experience than a Matoran with a Toa Stone."Teridax's eyes narrowed, his tone a blade. "Experience and talent are not correlated, Tohu." He huffed, leaning forward in his descent to the island. "You will not correct a senior officer."Tohu laughed from deep within his chest. The noise was uncomfortable to hear in these cirmcumstances. * * * III * * * D'vader's world became a momentary hurricane as the others landed, their wings whipping the air. He bared his teeth, struggling not to fall back in an ultimate display of humiliation. He was the smallest of the squadron, but at least he wasn't old. The older ones had a tenedency to overexaggerate everything, like taking twenty minutes to get their feet on the ground."D'vader! What's the report?""This is it, boss."Teridax's mouth opened, then closed again. D'vader awaited a reply for what seemed to his youthful perception eternity...and then he felt ashamed of his irritation. He was here for the salvation of his brothers, not because a senior officer had commanded him to move. Tohu stood in his smug arrogance, an interesting contrast to Tuck's hyperactivity. The guy wouldn't stop moving, and his enthusiasm at D'vader's confirmation was overflowing. Binkell's gaze followed Teridax's, concerned for a friend. Teridax felt some innate connection to Miserix that the others did not. They all understood the dire straits they flew in, but Teridax's emptiness was somehow more disconcerting than the rest of them.Huski stood almost apart from the rest, observing, reluctant to voice her opinion. She was shy, D'vader had noticed in his few encounters with her, but when she spoke she was surprisingly tactful. He'd never seen her upset anyone. He'd actually never seen her become upset, though he supposed if he did it would be the most evil wickedness he'd witnessed in Mata-Nui's good realm.Teridax found the words, finally. "This is it?"Wise words, boss.Huski prompted him. "This is Girj's island?""Yeah, it is. This is Turaga Girj's island. The locals call it Metru-Nui, and right now we're in Le-Metru, which translates as district, more or less. There're six districts, and locals are sort of fanatic about color coding everything. That's why it's all green."Bink raised an eyebrow. "Color-code? What, is this place the Great Spirit's filing cabinet?"Tuck chuckled. D'vader followed suit. "Actually, you'd be surprised. Mata-Nui spent a lot of time fiddling around here--all the Matoran from each district have almost identical personalities. Everyone from the Ta fire district seems to be hotheaded, the ice district is all cold and distant, stuff like that.""I always wondered if the guy had a sense of humor.""Anyways, here's the kicker. Before he was a Turaga, Girj was a doctor--and he specialized in the diagnosis and cure of genocidal viruses. I swear, Miserix is a propher."Teridax stuttered in. "G-good find, D'vader. Great, actually. Fantastic. Indescribably. Where's Girj? How do we get him?"D'vader bit his lip. The hardest part about reporting the facts was when the boss decided to shoot the messenger. "So that's the tricky part. I figured he'd be living in a hut or something, being all short and all, but he's living in a palace. In Po-Koro, the stone district. Where, I hear, they grow the soldiers hard and fast. Best on the island. And the place is supposed to be incredibly well-guarded.Tuck, ever-enthralled with plans of action--he was generally useless until the battlefield itself, where he served as quite the strategically and physically formidable corporal--cut in swiftly. He seemed to talk exclusively in interruptions. "You didn't scout the place out already?""I'm a Makuta. These Matoran are a bio tall. I'd look like I'm out to kidnap their leader."Teridax sneered. "Shut up. Tohu, what's the plan of attack?"Tohu assumed the air of a master general--he'd clearly been waiting for the opportunity to grace his fellows' presence with some words of stategic brilliance. "Bink, you come with me. We're the biggest, we'll be the distraction. We can afford the collateral damage on the Matoran end--we're guests. And we're saving a species here." Teridax inhaled sharply. "Teridax, man up. D'vader, you're going to get Girj. Tuck, once the halls are clear--they'll need all the help they can get from inside to hold us back outside--you run like a crazy clown through and knock out anyone in the way. Then you and D'vader play good cop bad cop with the Turaga. Keep your fury in check--he dies, we lose any info we have on the antidote's location and function. Tuck, you'll have displayed your rage, so you'll be the bad guy. D'vader, play nice and get him to sing. Huski, you're Destral's scrollkeeper, correct?""Yes sir.""I want you to stay here and write everything down since the plague's outbreak. We are living history, and that must not be forgotten. If, by some astronomically miniscule chance, six enormous terrifying alien beasts fail to wrench a vial of liquid from a bio-tall Turaga surrounded by dwarfish Matoran, you are to carry the tale to Artakha. He is the living channel between our world and the Great Spirit's.""Understood, sir."Tohu paused, apparently waiting for the inevitable stupid question. Teridax seized the opportunity. "And me?"Tohu grinned somewhat madly. "You're my superior, boss. I don't tell you what to do."Teridax swore. "I'll guard the perimeter. Backup, in case you and Bink are, as you said, being detained by an astronomically miniscule chance. Or if Tuck gets lost." Tuck replied with an obscene gesture.Silene reigned again. That silence was perpetual--it was forgotten beneath the sound of voices, but ultimately it returned. Death seemed to creep forth from the grave memory and wallow in it each time no one spoke, and once it sat redemption seemed impossible.Bink growled with a fury that reeked both of primal lust and of a lover's lament. The terrible enemy is the one who has nothing to lose."Just remember. Victors write the history books." * * * IV * * * Binkell had been resting atop the Po-Koro palace's turret for three hours when Tohu landed beside him. His voice was a raspy whisper. "What took so long?""I have no idea how to get around this place. D'vader omitted directions." He hissed. "Teridax is pretty broken up about this."Bink let the darkness speak. Circumstances were sufficiently horrible to be broken up about."Of course I'm broken up about it too, Bink, and of course you've got more reason than any of us, but we are logical beings, not emotionally overcharged wretches. It's just irrational to assume we won't do this right. You're a veteran of this business, you know that.""Him and Miserix were close.""We were all close with Miserix. That's why he picked us."Bink glared at Tohu, and Tohu shivered. "He picked us because we weren't dying." Binkell was really the only Makuta besides Miserix himself that he'd ever met who could instill this sense of guilty terror within him. The depth of shadow in those eyes...he was dark, Binkell, not like the others.Bink looked back at the ground, or at nothingness, and his voice assumed sympathy. "Let's shed some blood." The words felt odd, disconnected from his tone. They upset Tohu, who shifted before nodding in silent agreement."Let's." * * * Violence razed the palace grounds as screams of rage, pain, and bloodlust pierced the sky. Tuck recalled a similar sensation--but memories were for another time. He left his mind in the past as the smell of violence rushed through his nostriles and permeated his being.It felt good.Tohu and good ol' Binkmeister had done a good enough job of clearing a path straight through the entrance, which was more or less bereft of guards. Tohu was right--he and Bink had sucked all the firepower out from inside. If Tuck thought they were a handful, he could only pity the Matoran for the sheer horror they been blessed with. A few still remained inside, armed and ready, if not suffering from mental breakdowns. How considerate. Tuck was in the mood to break something.Still, though, he couldn't attract too much attention away from the big black beasts or else the plan would collapse on itself. Holding back a furious roar of imminent victory, he dashed through the entrance and kicked bones and bodies to and fro in a glorious dance of terror. He'd just cleared the hall when he arrived at a fork, both unguarded and devoid of any apparent bloodshed."To the left."He whirled around, still jumpy. D'vader stood proud, an arrogant smirk traced across his countenance. Tuck furrowed his brow. "How'd you get in?""Just a couple minutes ago, after the majority of the little guys scurried out. Nobody noticed me. Reporter's stealth, I guess." That, Tuck did not believe, had ever been a commonly used phrase.The Makuta appeared perplexed. "You didn't kill anything?""You don't have to to get a job done.""I beg to differ.""Shut up. Go to the left, I scouted the place out."Tuck sprinted through with a delightful exuberance only the young possess, D'vader swiftly stalking after at his rear, slicing the occasional body part of a Matoran aspiring to heroism. D'vader directed the pair to the courtroom, where the doors, enormous (by Matoran standards) and protodermis-laden, stood bold and locked.Tuck snickered and crashed through them with a demonic might and a childish glee. * * * V * * * The Turaga stood utterly humbled by the shadows of the world.He would not huddle in his throneroom's corner as the fools of legends, but stand nobly in its center at the defense of his people.As his people were slaughtered beyond the walls, though, he could not muster the energy in his archaic limbs to resist a tremble.The demons broke through the doors after an interminable seventeen minutes. The one at the pair's head bore an expression of incomparable malice, and as its lifeless eyes tore into his own soul he felt the carnage that lie within it. The destruction, the anarchy--he felt the being's madness and he knew its destination. It was bent on the bloodshed of the innocent, and the Turaga would not abandon his nation in the face of such evil.The creature took two tremendous steps and gripped the Turaga at his throat, and he suddenly felt too small to be significant. It stretched a pale claw toward his throat and a for a moment he was lost to all the--"Tuck. Get a hold of yourself."The being's grin fell to the earth and the Turaga fell to the ground. He heard something snap, but the fear and adrenaline stifled the pain. Another creature, this one smaller and more lithe, stepped out from behind the first's back. His expression was of a sort of sinister sophistication--this one was intelligent. He wasn't sure if that scared him more than the first. If he could be any more scared than he already was.The voice of the second was a deep bellow, but quiet. Almost haunting, as a ghost's."Girj?"The Turaga blinked. The awkwardness was entirely misplaced, but by some cosmic error had overtaken the scene. The bigger demon stood almost frozen over the Turaga's shivering body, just standing, standing, glaring..."You are Girj?""W-what? I am--I...I am Greg."The first regained that insanity, his face beaming of victory. "It's him, D'vader.""Tuck, shut up." The smaller monster leaned in, breath putrid but eyes somehow...charming...hypnotic..."All we want is your research. Then we will leave you to your Duties."The Turaga stammered. "W--My research? My...No! You will not condemn these people to die! Disease will ravage none as long as I reign!"The crazed one growled impatiently. The one he had called D'vader spoke again. "Exactly. That is why we need it. You will save your nation from death by giving it to us."The Turaga knew what he must do.In his research of biochemical genocide, he had naturally discovered the formula for the most simple of killing gases. The ethics of its possession made it far too controversial to publicize--as well to allow him a good night's sleep for years--but he had become addicted to his own constant safety. And this, after all, would be the salvation of all Metru-Nui...Turaga Greg, which in the Makuta language transliterates as Girj, popped open the cork of a certain bottle that contained gaseous death. * * * VI * * * Chaos had loosed for about twenty minutes on the grounds of the Turaga's palace before the screams erupted from the northeast tower.Binkell actually felt his senses sharpen, his head snap abruptly in the direction of the agony. The eastern wall of the throneroom had been torn off, the rubble resting atop the vengeful earth. Some kind of vaguely pale steam hovered in the air surrounding the tower, steadily coalescing into a thick cloud through which Bink's vision could not penetrate.The depth of those shrieking throats were unmistakable, though--Tuck and D'vader.His initial reaction was one of a mild surprise, an emotion he would soon feel a misplaced sense of guilt for, considering the magnitude of the situation. The pair had that almighty invincible aura of those soldiers too fresh out of the crib to feel vulnerable, and Bink finally felt victorious as a veteran of war. What immediately followed the surprise was a mighty wave of urgency, and a cosmic kick in the gut by an impossibly large being."Tohu!"The screams pierced the sky, an eerily familiar phenomenon that actually terrified the Makuta. Tohu ceased his huffing and puffing as Binkell watched his comrade's face transform from one of animal joy to graceless shame, which in turn was replaced with that storm of urgency. Wings flapping before their feet left the ground, the pair flew with a speed far greater than they should have been capable of, soaring headfirst into the same torture that befell those friends and saviors of a species in the throneroom of Turaga Girj. * * * VII * * * Lost.Teridax stood among this eternal, unfathomable silence. He felt the souls of these dead creatures claw without noise against his skin, their breath an invisible frost in the still air, in the still silence.Lost.He felt his body once again lose itself to that span of the infinity he would never comprehend, felt his spirit convulse and rattle against this hollow shell, felt the silence pierce through his own damp eyes as it had the skies that hung above his dying breed, but most of all he didn't really think he felt at all.Lost.Teridax stood lost and numb among this silence, awaiting the rage and the grief and the fury and the guilt and the blood and the vengeance, but it did not. It hung in the air before him where he gazed at it until his knees gave way to the gravity of mortality, but it would not meet his eyes. All he felt was numb, bland shame, but its taste was not felt upon his limp tongue.Lost as a friend, lost as a leader, lost as a Makuta. He simply was. There was nothing more than his existence. Unity was lost, Duty was lost, Destiny was lost. Miserix was lost. Makuta was lost. Purpose was lost. Only silence remained.Lost. * * * Epilogue * * * It is, by Matoran count, the fifth year and two-hundred and thirty-seventh day since Girj's suicide. His death is commemorated as a national holiday, an permanent memory of the salvation of their kind.I do not know why they celebrate the destruction of my people.Teridax has been lost to that memory. He has, in his black oblivion, allowed it to consume him. This newborn cause for him is in no way justifiable, but I empathize nonetheless. I understand him. He is stricken by his loneliness, stripped of purpose, and so he constructs one for himself. I do not believe he sees his own corruption. He genuinely believes in his righteousness.After Girj's death, he adopted a new title--the Black Six, a reference to the team he believed all dead. Four of their bodies are buried beneath the palace grounds that he has conquered as his own, guarded by his enslaved. His cause has been perverted from one of salvation to the condemnation of the innocent. He has renamed Metru-Nui 'Beezee-Koro,' a word in our language that translates as 'vengeance.'I know my own Destiny, but I cannot come to face it. I should reveal my own yet breathing body, I should welcome him into my arms with the warm love of a true sister and carry him home. I should leave this place to its own quarrels. We are not to interfere here beyond Miserix's--and Mata-Nui's--word. But we have no home. And that is the source of Teridax's insanity. It has wrecked him with a hunger so deep he would not hear me. He would kill me too, likely, and bury me beneath my brothers.So I remain in hiding, awaiting the word of Artakha, as Teridax once promised. I will give him this chronicle and he will return with me to my people, if they survive yet. I do not know if he exists, or if he has any reason to leave the security of his own haven. We are selfish creatures, are we not? Why would he sacrifice his own safety in the interest of ours? We are lesser beings, after all. I respect him for that, but I remain in this quiet desperation. I only wish watching Teridax collapse into himself did not tear me apart as it does.So I wait here, on the empire of Beezee-Koro, for a sign of any sort, forfeiting all I once believed in and lived for. Long live the Black Six.--Writings of Huski
-
Warning: A number of real members of BZPower are named here. I mean no disrespect towards these users, and apologize if any of them feel offended by my portrayals of them.And, with that finished, I hope you enjoy the story!~~~ The Briefest of WarsBZ-Koro.Our home, our sanctuary, our birthright.Forged from our sweat and determination, as well as our bitterness and hatred. A land unlike any other, a realm with no parallel. A shining beacon of hope, for all those cast out of society.We, the BZ-Koronans, were banished here, to the outlying lands of Artakha, many ages ago, for our crime of incompetence. We were the rejects, the beings whom the Great Spirit had not blessed with the ability to create, or build. We were the black sheep of this island of inventors and forgers, a gangrenous limb, which was dragging down the rest of the organism.And thus, here we were, forced to dwell in the barren sands of desolation, where we lived and worked and hated. We had allowed our loathing of Artakha and those lucky Matoran crafters, who had deemed us “inferior”, to fill us up. It formed a burning fire within each of us, consuming us, body and spirit.We lived here, in the squalor of BZ-Koro, for many years, surviving day-to-day, and striving to either master the art of creation and be accepted back into the ranks of Artakha, or to find a way to take revenge on those same beings. Many thought such things were pipe dreams, but at least they gave us something to wake up for each day.That was before.Then, they came.The first, a majestic being of silver and gold armour, who stood tall among us Matoran. His name was Hapori Tohu.He was a benevolent being, among the first to bring kindness and generosity to our village in a long time. He, much like Artakha, possessed the power of creation, but his abilities far surpassed the legendary crafter. While Artakha could envision the construction of any object in his mind, Tohu was able to literally create anything out of thin air.This Hapori re-opened our eyes to the beauty in the world, and taught us how to work together, live together, in harmony. How to accomplish great things because of others, not in spite of them. Once Tohu came, everything was wonderful for a while. He helped us to create new devices, to improve our lives, and forged new bonds between us.Then, the other Hapori arrived.While Tohu brought creation and hope with him, this being brought only destruction and evil. He was a scourge among even us, the rejects. Even his armour showed these qualities, their colours rusted blacks and reds, the metal twisting around on itself, as if disgusted that it was forced to be in contact with such a vile being. He called himself Hapori Dume, and claimed to have come for one thing, and one thing only:The death of his brother, Tohu.Dume said that if we handed over Tohu, he would leave us be, perhaps even reward us for helping him. He told us that he had the power to destroy anything he wanted, with only a flick of his wrist, and if we aided him, he would not hesitate to use it on our behalf.Though none have said so, I myself am certain that we all thought of Artakha, and the possibility of finally exacting revenge on him and his brethren. That had been our dream for as long as any of us could remember, and this Hapori had the power to realize it.And such a trivial sacrifice; one person.One, lonely being.One being who had come, uninvited, into our realm.Who had used his powers, which had been denied to our kin, to help us.Who had showed us kindness, a concept so completely alien to us.Not one BZ-Koronan moved to let Dume have his wish.Instead, we marched onwards, to protect Tohu, our friend.The battle between the BZ-Koronans and Hapori Dume was brief, and futile. His power over destruction was too great for us, and our forces were decimated within moments. Defeated, some of us begged for mercy. Others lay stoic, not willing to give this Hapori the pleasure of seeing our agony.Tohu, however, fought on, pitting all of his might against his brother, attempting to bring him down once and for all. Creation against destruction, order against chaos, good against evil. It was truly a sight to behold.But the Destroyer’s powers were far beyond even that of our saviour. Where Tohu would materialize a weapon against Dume, the latter would obliterate it just as easily. There was no way for this Hapori to win alone.Everyone knew that. Tohu, Dume.Us.With the Creator at his feet, Hapori Dume readied himself for the final strike against his brother, the ultimate ending to his arch-nemesis. Bringing his arm back, he channeled the power of pure destruction, the power of the Void, into his gauntlet, prepared to finish this eternal struggle once and for all.But then, something that no one expected happened. One of us, a BZ-Koronan named Phyoohrii, mortally wounded by Dume in the initial skirmish, struggled to his feet, life slowly bleeding out of him, and hurled himself at the Destroyer.Each one of us watched, helpless, as our comrade took hold of the evil Hapori’s powered hand, the energy of the Void trapped between the two beings. Ricocheting between Dume and Phyoohrii, the all-consuming power had no choice (or perhaps it did. We’ll never know) but to destroy both oppressing forces.With his last breath, one BZ-Koronan, a Matoran who had been shunned by society for the crime of inadequacy, did the impossible: he destroyed the Destroyer.I, for one, will always remember the look of complete and utter bliss on the face of Phyoohrii, and the strangled cries of horror coming from the mouth of Hapori Dume. It was moment that was so fleeting, and yet, seemed to last a lifetime. A moment, when we were all proud to be BZ-Koronans.As the two beings were consumed by the Void, the rest of us began to stagger to our feet, trying to wrap our minds around what had just happened. Some of us began celebrating wildly. Others merely stood by, staring at the spot where our new hero had given his life.But soon, all of our attention was focused upon the dying Hapori Tohu, kneeling amid the ruins of our home. We all tried to help him, but in our heart of hearts, we knew it was useless. The power of the Void was too powerful to be defeated by the likes of we mortals.We realized that yet another hero was about to leave this world that day.As we wept for the Creator, Tohu merely smiled, doing his best to comfort us. The Hapori tried to dry our collective tears, telling us to not lose hope, that, while some of him would soon be gone, his spirit of hope and creation, would live on inside of us. He instructed us to never forget what we had learned from him, and to never again bow down to that which our morals stood against.And then, as the void consumed him, he brought to each of us, one last gift.The Spark.In the final moments of his life, Hapori Tohu instilled within each of us a tiny portion of his power to create. The skill that we had been banished for lacking, we now had, thanks to him.That day, now known as the Hapori Day, would mark a new age in BZ-Koro. With our new powers of creation at hand (which more than one poet has dubbed the “BZ-Power”) we rebuilt our homeland, even improving upon it. The BZ-Koronans worked together in order to establish a system of infrastructure, ruled by a council of elders known as the “Black Six”.We never returned to work with Artakha, even though we all now qualified. We had no interest in pledging allegiance to a people that had condemned us, years ago.Besides, we have nothing more to gain from joining them. We have all that we could ever want at home. Safety, security, family.With the BZ-Power at our fingertips, we are unstoppable.With our fellow BZ-Koronans beside us, we are invincible.With BZ-Koro around us, we are immortal.-The Emissary~~~-Void
-
A figure strode down a long, white hall. The gold ornamentations on his silver armor gave off a dazzling glint in the brightly lit corridor. He crossed under an archway into a similar hall, at the end of which stood a large, heavy metal door. He opened it and entered the chamber beyond.It was as if a storm cloud had covered the sun; the bright yellow light had dimmed to little more than a whisper of illumination, which faded into complete shadow at the far end.Red eyes gleamed out of the darkness, lending a glow sufficient to define a harshly angular mask. A smooth, glib voice snarled, "Why did you invite me to the Equilibrium? This is an inconvenient time. I was about to harrow someone."The light being stepped to the center of the room to stand over a large table, whereon he traced his finger across a large map. "We have business to speak of," he said simply."It's a pity. He was such a happy soul." The eyes twinkled, and a smile crept beneath them. "Oh, well. It won't hurt me to give him a few more minutes of contentment. Just make it quick."This new figure moved toward the center of the room, gaining a vague silhouette. He was tall and lean, his panoply adorned with ample spikes. A tattered cloak billowed behind him like a trail of smoke. "What is it?" he asked carelessly, leaning against a pillar beside the table."It's this new island." The figure stabbed a point on the map."What is there to discuss?" The shadowy figure shrugged. "You claimed the last one. This one's mine.""I know that's true. But I want this one.""And why should I let you have it? Out of the kindness of my heart?" His laugh was as smooth as his tone."This one is different, somehow. It has so much potential.""Potential! It is all the same. It merely matters how you use it.""You don't use potential, you twist it.""Call it what you will. It makes no difference." The smooth voice darkened. "You still have no claim that outbids mine.""Then how shall we settle this?" Instinctively, the white figure's hand went to the hilt of his saber."Oh, don't be dramatic. I have no interest in killing you today." The red eyes brightened suddenly. "But I know. We'll split it.""Split it?""Bad choice of words. We'll share it."The resplendent figure raised an eyebrow. There was a pause before he asked, "And how do you propose we do that?""Instead of settling this in the arena, we settle it on the battlefield.""War?""Not war," was the indignant response. "Combat is so plain. Good versus evil, the two great powers battling eternally for supremacy." The ebon figure gagged. "So cliché. And I'm blasé. But here we have, as you say, potential. Conflict on a diffuse scale.""An out-and-out free-for-all?" The light being was taken aback."Chaos." A rapacious smile crossed the scarred mask. "We'll make a sort of game out of it, you and I. We'll each control all the pieces. Rather than battle, it will be a real competition. Survival of the fittest, if you will.""I won't allow it. I don't like gambling with fate.""Oh, do lighten up." The black figure laughed at his own wit. "It's not a gamble at all. It's a game of strategy.""And the pieces? Living, breathing beings, with minds and hearts, and destinies of their own! These are peoples' lives we're talking about!""Oh, what good do they do with them, for all that living and breathing?""And what do you care about good?""I thought it might interest you." The sinister creature straightened and moved to the table. He leaned closer to the white figure, his eyes gleaming malefically. "The Toa will protect the Matoran, as they always do--or will they? The Turaga will lead--or will they? The Skakdi, the Vortixx, the Makuta, all will have their place within our little ecosystem--or will they? You see, it is all up to us. We'll take our turns and make our moves, and as for the consequences--" He waved a dismissive hand. "Existence has its consequences."The other hesitated. "There will need to be--rules.""Of course. Any game needs rules. Without them, how could anybody cheat?" The ebon figure grinned. "We'll need to lay down a law for our new people. Regulations, limitations, assignations, what have you. All of that. To play you need a field"--he tapped the island on the map--"and a way to play. And then the contest begins."The white figure stroked his mask in consideration. He took a long look at the island designated on the map, then extended a hand. "It's a deal. We'll play."His new opponent took his hand and shook it, laughing. "Winner takes it all! Some real excitement at last!" He winked and turned to leave."But we still need a name for this--contest."Without looking back, the black-clad figure disappeared into the shadows. "It's a little bit of everything, isn't it? It's no simple sport. It's alpha to omega, and everything in between. Or everyone. We're the heads, and the letters are our unfaithful, unwitting armies. Yes, we're the alphas. So they'll start with beta." A door creaked, and his final words echoed in the chamber before it shut with a slam: "We'll call it BZ-Koro. Do you like that?" Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
-
Yo, this is my first comedy as well as my entry for the LSO Comedy Contest. It is a spoof of The Empire Strikes Back. It is not the full film, but instead the scene of Luke's and Darth Vader's battle on Cloud City.If there are any mistakes, or some parts you don't understand. LET ME KNOW. As I said, this is my first comedy, so C&C is very much needed.WARNING: I think I fixed it, but there might be some first-person here. It's mainly in third-person, however.ENJOY! LORD VAKAMA STRIKES BACK Tahu was raised into a dark room by a platform. The room was deathly quiet. Tahu glanced over to Death, who was sitting in a leather chair and nodded towards him for the silence. Death nodded back, gave a thumbs up and opened up a book titled, “Reaping Souls for Dummies.”A blast of steam escaped the pipes that circled around the large room. Besides Tahu and Death, the room was empty. Another blast of steam came from the wall. In the center of the room, a small pit sits, an evil, orange glow surrounds it. Out of nowhere, a Green Lantern lands and removes the orange light and leaves as fast as he came.Tahu shook his head as he moved toward a stairway leading up to a walkway, overlooking the pit. As he moved towards the stairway, his foot got caught on a pipe, tripping him, sending him face-first into the wall as a blast of steam shot out at the same time.“OW! BRAKAS!” Tahu swore as fell backwards, holding his mask. As he hit the ground, a dark laughter, followed by coughing was heard.Tahu glanced up, towards the walkway from his position on the ground.“Lord Vakama!” Tahu declared dramatically and pointed towards the short figure on the walkway.“The stupidity is strong with you. But you aren’t a complete fool yet.” Lord Vakama said confidently, as he pulled out a Lightstone from behind his back.“I will...uh...I will....will....”“Destroy me?”“No, I’m looking for a nicer word.”“Best me in combat?”“Yes, I will best you in combat!” Tahu shouted as he pulled his own Lightstone out from behind his back and leaped at Vakama.He failed utterly, as he was only able to roll over on the ground. Lord Vakama started laughing and wheezing as he slapped his knee.“I might be wrong! You might be a complete fool!” Lord Vakama roared in laughter.Tahu stood up quickly, cleaned his armor off and then leaped at Lord Vakama, Lightstone outstretched. Tahu misjudged his leap and flew over Lord Vakama and landed behind him. Lord Vakama lunged at Tahu with his Lightstone, but it was countered by Tahu.“You have learned much. I hope that muppet teacher of yours gets his stuffing pulled.” Lord Vakama growled as Tahu aimed a kick at his head.“You’ll find I’m full of surprises.” Tahu said proudly, “Watch this.”Tahu got down into a deep squat and leaped backwards, away from Lord Vakama. “How about that?” Tahu asked his enemy.Vakama smiled and jumped up into the air, spiraling towards the amazed Tahu. Before Tahu could do anything, Lord Vakama smacked him smartly across the face.“Ow.” Tahu muttered as he stepped backwards from Lord Vakama.He didn’t have any extra time to try to recover, because Lord Vakama was on him in a instant, swinging his Lightstone all over the place. Tahu blocked and dodged, as he attempted to get his own attack into the fray.Tahu launched a quick lunge at Lord Vakama’s head, but the attack was easily blocked. Lord Vakama saw his chance and poked Tahu in his side, making him toss his Lightstone into the air as he giggled. Lord Vakama poked him again, knocking Tahu down the stairway back onto the platform with the small pit.Tahu recovered in time to see Lord Vakama leaped at Tahu, aiming to cut him in half. Tahu rolled away into a crouch just as Lord Vakama landed.“Your destiny lies with me, Tahu. Hahil Husky knew this to be true.” Lord Vakama said he moved towards Tahu.“Fibber!” shouted Tahu as he backed away, “This is a children’s forum, you aren’t supposed to fib!”“I’m evil! I’m bad! It’s in the bloody script!” Lord Vakama roared as he charged Tahu.Tahu lost his balance and fell into the small pit. There was a rumble and steam flooded the pit and floated up to Lord Vakama.“Victory.....it smells like wet dog!” he declared with triumphal tone, wielding a raised fist.Lord Vakama turned away from the steam just as something shot upward out of the pit. Lord Vakama turned around and looked into the pit, then looked up. What did he see? He saw Tahu looking at him. Tahu, Tahu, what did he see? He saw Lord Vakama looking at him.“Impressive...most impressive.” said Lord Vakama as he watched Tahu jump down to the walkway. Tahu grabbed his Lightstone and raised it up.“Hahil Husky has taught you well. You have controlled your rage....now release your hate.” taunted Lord Vakama.Tahu began to retreat as Lord Vakama goaded him on. Tahu took a defensive position, as Lord Vakama swings hisLightstone at him. A quick Lightstone exchange and Tahu forced Lord Vakama back. Another exchange and Lord Vakama retreated. Tahu pressed forward, forcing Lord Vakama back farther.“Only your hatred can destroy me.” Lord Vakama declared.“Another fib.” sighed Tahu, “Really?”Lord Vakama was about to respond when he backed off the rim of the platform, falling into the outer rim of pipes and beyond. “I wasn’t finished!” Tahu screamed after Lord Vakama as he jumped down as well.*************************Tahu moved through a tunnellike.....tunnel. He had his Lightstone up and at the ready as he moved closer to the room at the end of the tunnel. He rounded the corner and moved towards a large window. His sight-seeing was cut short as Lord Vakama appeared. Out of nowhere.“How did you do that?” Tahu asked in disbelief.“I don’t really know..” Lord Vakama replied as looked around his surroundings.Tahu shook his head and charged Lord Vakama. All of a sudden a computer flew off the wall and came smashing towards him. Tahu turned and cut it in half. “How did you do that?!” Tahu exclaimed as he turned back to Lord Vakama. Lord Vakama merely shrugged. Before Tahu could say anything else, another computer came flying at him. Tahu cut that in half with ease as well. Suddenly, every computer on the walls came flying at him, battering him and forcing him back against the large window. A flash drive flew at Tahu and hit him in the chest, launching him out the window.************************Tahu rolled onto a gantry and stood up as Lord Vakama leaped out the window. They clashed their Lightstones together, forcing Tahu to back up.“You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Hahil Husky did.” Lord Vakama declared as he sliced at Tahu.Tahu rolled sideways and stabbed at Lord Vakama, nicking him on the shoulder. Lord Vakama grunted but recovered quickly. With a terrified scream, Tahu took off down the gantry to the narrow end.Tahu realizing that he had nowhere to go, turned to face Lord Vakama. “Come at me, bro!” Tahu mocked.Lord Vakama growled and leaped at Tahu, bringing his Lightstone down on Tahu’s right wrist. However, Lord Vakama’s Lightstone broke in two over Tahu’s wrist. “Ha! You failed!” Tahu declared loudly, spitting all over Lord Vakama’s mask.Lord Vakama lifted a hand and cleaned his mask of the spit covering it. “I was afraid it would come to this.” Lord Vakama said as he pressed a button on his belt.A rope hit the floor, dangling from the darkness above. Both Tahu and Lord Vakama turned to watch, as the sound of someone or something sliding down the rope grew louder. A pair of shiny, black shoes first appeared, followed by cream khakis, a large, black suitcase and a blue shirt. The figure’s head appeared, a beaming, almost terrifying smile sat on it.“Hi, Billy Mays here, what do you need help with?” the figure asked Lord Vakama cheerfully, almost revoltingly.Lord Vakama sighed and pointed at Tahu. “I need you to remove his hand.”“No problem!” Billy Mays exclaimed cheerfully, as he opened the black suitcase. “With Oxy Clean’s new enriched formula, it’ll remove any stain or limb you need!”Billy Mays walked over to Tahu and stuck his hand into a jar of sizzling fluid. “Just watch, as within minutes, the chosen limb will be removed!”Tahu started screaming as his hand was slowly eaten away. “And, with the additional purchase of our travel case, any wounds will be sealed instantly, preventing infection!” Billy Mays narrated cheerfully to Lord Vakama as Tahu’s hand disappeared.Tahu stopped screaming as his limb-or limbless arm was lifted out of the liquid. “Just look, a clean, clear cut!” Billy Mays announced to Lord Vakama, who was looking rather disgusted with himself.“No. No. That's not true! That's impossible!” Tahu screamed as he gripped his arm.“Search your feelings, friend. You know it to be true.” Billy Mays responded, “And with the purchase of our lifetime warranty, you’ll get a free Billy Mays cookie cutter!”“No! No! No!” Tahu screamed as he jumped off the gantry, down towards his supposed doom.Lord Vakama and Billy Mays looked over the side of the gantry and watched Tahu fall into the unknown.“Hey, for 3 easy payments of 33 widgets, you can get a free rope to catch your falling friends or enemies!” Billy Mays said cheerfully.Lord Vakama sighed slowly and rubbed the sides of his forehead.THE ENDQuestions, complaints, comments?
-
This is my LSO entry for the Comedies event. Enjoy.*three Toa of Stone (Harry,Ron, and Hermione) are walking home, but come across a watery revine with a blue, furry, singing monster.*Monster:*singing* F is for foood, that's good enough for me. Everything is food, that's okay with me.*More of the creatures show up and join in.*Harry:This is very disturbing.Ron and Hermione: indeed.*the three combine thier powers and build a bridge, only for a Shadowy figure in a black hoodie to appear.*Shadowy figure: Hi, I'm death. Now, normally I'd be angry at someone who built a bridge across the Ravine of Singing Monsters Who Will Eat Anything (or ROSMWWEA), because I often get company through it. You, though, have proven worthy of gifts.*Turns to the arrogant Harry, who is the oldest*Death: What would you like, young man?Harry: A sword that can't be beat.*Death pulls a sword out and hands it to Harry,who goes to a nearby motel.Death then turns to the even more arrogant Hermione*Death:And you, sir? Hermione:A cool car.*Death reluctantly reaches into his pocket and manages to pull out a 1967 Pontiac Firebird, then hands Hermione the keys.**as Hermione gets in the sweet ride*Death:And you, Ron?Ron:I'd like something that will help prolong our next meeting.*Death hands Ron an Invisibility Hoodie, which is put on just after Ron crosses the bridge and goes into the same Motel Harry did.*Death: Back to the-*Hemione tries to drive across the bridge, which collapses under the awesomeness of the Firebird, which floats away, never to be seen again, unlike its new owner, who goes in the opposite direction and falls down a waterfall, which is being crossed by a Matoran by tightrope.*Death:*Facepalms*Narrator:That night, a greedy Motel Staff member came into Harry's room, stole the sword,and put Harry to death by forcing him to watch the Music video for Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You up while eating ice cream. DO NOT ATTEMPT. RESULTS NOT TYPICAL. Now, for many years,Death tried to track down Ron, who then met up with Death, and beat him in arm wrestling, thus winning Immortality. How do I know this? I am Ron! We hope you enjoyed the story.Please post!
