Well, I'm back. Sorry I haven't posted, I've been pretty tired as of late. But no longer.
Ten years earlier…
Hunter Lars III paced the floor of the lab, adding sprinkles of chemicals to tubes here and there, readjusting the heat of the burners. He was nearly frantic, his heart racing as he mixed and poured and measured. He was so close, so close to finding the cure for cancer. He could save his mother… He picked up the pace, running back and forth. He stopped after another hour, stepped back, and clasped his hands together. "I… I think I've got it!"
He burst from the lab and ran down the steps to the lower floor. Thirty doors down he stopped, and peered into the window. There was his mother, pale and fragile. She was so sick… He opened the door and walked in. "Mother…" he whispered softly to her.
She opened her eyes. "Hunter… darling how I've missed you! You hardly visit!" Her voice was a soft breath over the beeping of the cardiometer measuring her heart rate. Hunter sat by her. "I've been working so hard to find a cure for you… I haven't had the time…" He rubbed his eyes. He really had been busy. He patted her arm. "I've done it… I can heal you."
Well gotta stop here, more tomorrow or tonight or in a year, ya never know, amirite?
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Friday, May 22, 2015
Announcement Time
Hello everybody, I will not be posting this weekend because I will be out of town. I'm stepping outside to leave for Connecticut right now. Just wanted to let you know so you didn't think I'd forgotten or something.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Chapter Four: Open Doors
Better late than never.
It had been three days since the encounter with the large sphere. Damian reached into his daily pack and pulled out a granola bar. Whoever it was that dropped of his food hadn't taken his souvenir. The firing mechanism was lying at his feet, pointed away from him. He picked it up, turning it over, inspecting it again. It looked like it might fit in the door, inside the largest hole. He'd waited to try, not knowing the consequences. But it was time to try and bust out at least, and he wasn't going to find any way out from the direction he'd come. He'd tried finding his way back to the room he'd woken up in. The way back to that whole sector was closed off.
He stood up and turned around. There was the door, rising up behind him. He grabbed the mechanism, flipped it around, and pushed it into the hole. Nothing happened.
"Well, that went well," he muttered. He tried taking it back out, and it was locked in place. He looked around, and then shrugged.
"Okay."
Damian ran down the hall, looking for another sphere. He knew what to expect now, at least. A medium sized one. He turned left and right, careful to keep a pattern so he wouldn't get lost. He turned the corner, and tripped over something traveling towards him. He rolled and got back to his feet just as the sphere fired at him. This sphere was smaller than the last one, about the size of a dog. He ducked, showered in sparks as it missed and hit the wall he was standing against. He started to run, hoping to escape around a bend but fell back down again. He rolled to the side as another burst flew at him. One shot skipped off his face mask, leaving a dent. He noticed something as he rolled. The sphere would not spray shots off randomly. It had to have clear, concise aim before it fired. He shoved himself up, then went on the offensive.
Damian ran left, then cut right just before the sphere fired. The sphere, in turn, readjusted. But Damian was already back to the other side. He reached it before it could fire and kicked it. It rolled along the ground and stuck a wall. The center shifted around towards him again, just in time for him to slam the butt of his gun down on it. The light inside slowly faded to black. Damian ripped out the firing mechanism and started walking back.
Hunter typed at breakneck pace, every so often reaching over to grab his coffee as he worked. The world may be ending, but coffee was still his number one priority. He sat back, sweating a little, then readjusted his glasses. Searching around, he found the folders he wanted. He splayed out their contents on the table next to him, poring over all of the variables. "Yes… definitely needed… and maybe a few… AHA!" he screamed, raising the paper into the air like a trophy. "A forest!" he exclaimed, jumping around. Then he sat back down, laughing softly to himself as he typed. They all thought he was mad, but he could save the world. He just knew it. He still remembered from all those years ago. He could still see the primal eyes, the wild looks. He could still hear the screams. He laughed softly to himself as he typed, alone. He could change it.
I'm stopping here for right now, but I'll be blogging the rest tomorrow most likely. You guys have to have a pic of Hunter, and I really don't feel like drawing one, so here's a picture of what you can imagine him like. Or not. Personally, I prefer to imagine all characters my own way. It's up to you.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Chapter Three continued
So yeah, I'm back like i said I'd be. For once.
The viewing room was lit with the light from the screens as Hunter processed where to go from here. He scratched his chin, jerking in surprise when he felt the sharp hairs growing there. He hadn't gotten much sleep lately. "Three… no five… maybe?… but where… what kinds of factors… another subject…" he mumbled to himself. Lead assistant Harold Beckens walked over to him.
"Sir," he started. "I'm not sure about the testing."
Hunter looked up. "Why not?"
The man shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that things are advancing a little faster… better than we'd prepared for. We have no idea what this could lead to, but we don't want to rush anything is all."
Hunter shrugged. "Fine, if you really think so. It'll take him at very least a week to solve the door, and by then we will have everything we want set up. All the variables, everything. Just calm down and focus. Now get back to work."
Beckens bowed stiffly and left without another word. Hunter sat back in his chair. Everything was falling apart in the world, and this project could not under any circumstances fall through. His head in his hands, he sighed and thought about the mistakes he'd made. Hopefully, hopefully, he'd be able to pull everything out of the nosedive it was in. He sat up in his chair, grabbed a laptop, and began working again.
Damian was still stunned. The sphere was monstrous. It was obviously made well, too. His rifle didn't do an incredible lot against the thing. He wanted to take it apart, see how it worked. Stooping down, he felt inside the shell. With a creak it shifted slightly, then slid off. He flipped it over and inspected the inside. There were wires and gears all over. Each bore the logo LARCO on it. Suddenly he had a flashback. The man on the screen that he'd seen right before he'd blacked out. He was holding a syringe, staring down at Damian. Then Damian was looking at a tall building. Then a reactor room. Then he returned to the present. "So I really am a test subject after all," he mumbled to himself. He really hated the feeling, like a rodent having to live purely for experimentation. He nearly felt sick.
He turned back to the rest of the sphere. There was something glowing the the center, just faintly. He reached inside and pulled it out, struggling against a tangle of wires. It was the firing mechanism, a large bolt meant to slam projectiles out at attackers. It must've been about seven inches in diameter. Just faintly, something itched at the back of Damian's mind. He smirked to himself. "I guess I'll just have to play your silly little game," he called out to the empty halls. He picked up his rifle and walked back the way he'd come, clutching his prize.
End of chapter three.
HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS… I think I'm getting better. That, to I'm just slowly becoming more deluded as time goes on. Anyhoo, here's some pics of some other deadly and or famous spheres from throughout our media culture and real life:
The viewing room was lit with the light from the screens as Hunter processed where to go from here. He scratched his chin, jerking in surprise when he felt the sharp hairs growing there. He hadn't gotten much sleep lately. "Three… no five… maybe?… but where… what kinds of factors… another subject…" he mumbled to himself. Lead assistant Harold Beckens walked over to him.
"Sir," he started. "I'm not sure about the testing."
Hunter looked up. "Why not?"
The man shifted uncomfortably. "It's just that things are advancing a little faster… better than we'd prepared for. We have no idea what this could lead to, but we don't want to rush anything is all."
Hunter shrugged. "Fine, if you really think so. It'll take him at very least a week to solve the door, and by then we will have everything we want set up. All the variables, everything. Just calm down and focus. Now get back to work."
Beckens bowed stiffly and left without another word. Hunter sat back in his chair. Everything was falling apart in the world, and this project could not under any circumstances fall through. His head in his hands, he sighed and thought about the mistakes he'd made. Hopefully, hopefully, he'd be able to pull everything out of the nosedive it was in. He sat up in his chair, grabbed a laptop, and began working again.
Damian was still stunned. The sphere was monstrous. It was obviously made well, too. His rifle didn't do an incredible lot against the thing. He wanted to take it apart, see how it worked. Stooping down, he felt inside the shell. With a creak it shifted slightly, then slid off. He flipped it over and inspected the inside. There were wires and gears all over. Each bore the logo LARCO on it. Suddenly he had a flashback. The man on the screen that he'd seen right before he'd blacked out. He was holding a syringe, staring down at Damian. Then Damian was looking at a tall building. Then a reactor room. Then he returned to the present. "So I really am a test subject after all," he mumbled to himself. He really hated the feeling, like a rodent having to live purely for experimentation. He nearly felt sick.
He turned back to the rest of the sphere. There was something glowing the the center, just faintly. He reached inside and pulled it out, struggling against a tangle of wires. It was the firing mechanism, a large bolt meant to slam projectiles out at attackers. It must've been about seven inches in diameter. Just faintly, something itched at the back of Damian's mind. He smirked to himself. "I guess I'll just have to play your silly little game," he called out to the empty halls. He picked up his rifle and walked back the way he'd come, clutching his prize.
End of chapter three.
HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS… I think I'm getting better. That, to I'm just slowly becoming more deluded as time goes on. Anyhoo, here's some pics of some other deadly and or famous spheres from throughout our media culture and real life:
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Chapter Three- The Garage
Here we go.
-Mitch Johnson
There were so many toys to play with. But he really wanted to make a new one. He started with a large block of steel. Slipping it into the machine, he drew up a model on one of the high-tech computers on the table. He didn't know how he knew all the parts and pieces, but he did. For about an hour he walked around, starting other machines on other projects, then finally it was all done.
It was sleek, gleaming black in the white light. About two and a half feet long, this was the ticket, right here. It fired concussive blasts of compressed air taken from the environment to high ranges. A pneumatic rifle. He was quite happy. There was a matching set of armor he'd machined out, thin but strong. He fitted himself with the arm guards, shinguards, chest plate, faulds for his thighs, and face mask. There was one last thing to do.
He sat down at a computer. There was a sophisticated algorithm he could run which might just do the trick. He slowly typed. 4…1…1…4…9…1…1…5. The screen flashed with possible combinations, and he found what he was looking for, highlighted in yellow. DAMIAN, MOST PROBABLE MEANING. So that was his name. He left the computer running, and walked out.
The whole world had changed. Damian was standing in front of a huge door. The door was locked, and there were three holes of graduating size next to the handle. Curious. He walked left, down the hallway. He was listening. Plip. Whirrrrr. Bonk. So many sounds, sounds he'd never heard. But there! A soft creak was coming closer. He stepped around the corner, aimed, and almost dropped his gun. It was HUGE.
The sphere must have been the size of a small car. It whirled around and shot at him. He ducked, feeling the heat passing right over his head. This thing wasn't messing around. Rolling out of the crouch he aimed and shot, hitting its side. The blast spun it a little, but it readjusted and fired again, barely missing Damian as he dove again. He rose, blasting shot after shot into the space in the center. It creaked and spasmed, blasting shots left and right, and then slowly shut down. Damian approached the smoking mass cautiously, gun still shouldered. "This is not good," he said to nobody in particular.
Hunter watched intently, replaying the scene over and over again. The weren't any visible projectiles coming from the gun, but he could just make out a disturbance in the air. Whistling softly to himself, he smiled. "You sly dog, you made yourself a pneumatic gun." He called over an assistant. "I think we may have a real winner here," he said. The assistant merely nodded, watching the footage.
well Imma gonna end here, but there'll be more tomorrow. Here's what I had in mind when I was talking about a pneumatic gun:
-Mitch Johnson
There were so many toys to play with. But he really wanted to make a new one. He started with a large block of steel. Slipping it into the machine, he drew up a model on one of the high-tech computers on the table. He didn't know how he knew all the parts and pieces, but he did. For about an hour he walked around, starting other machines on other projects, then finally it was all done.
It was sleek, gleaming black in the white light. About two and a half feet long, this was the ticket, right here. It fired concussive blasts of compressed air taken from the environment to high ranges. A pneumatic rifle. He was quite happy. There was a matching set of armor he'd machined out, thin but strong. He fitted himself with the arm guards, shinguards, chest plate, faulds for his thighs, and face mask. There was one last thing to do.
He sat down at a computer. There was a sophisticated algorithm he could run which might just do the trick. He slowly typed. 4…1…1…4…9…1…1…5. The screen flashed with possible combinations, and he found what he was looking for, highlighted in yellow. DAMIAN, MOST PROBABLE MEANING. So that was his name. He left the computer running, and walked out.
The whole world had changed. Damian was standing in front of a huge door. The door was locked, and there were three holes of graduating size next to the handle. Curious. He walked left, down the hallway. He was listening. Plip. Whirrrrr. Bonk. So many sounds, sounds he'd never heard. But there! A soft creak was coming closer. He stepped around the corner, aimed, and almost dropped his gun. It was HUGE.
The sphere must have been the size of a small car. It whirled around and shot at him. He ducked, feeling the heat passing right over his head. This thing wasn't messing around. Rolling out of the crouch he aimed and shot, hitting its side. The blast spun it a little, but it readjusted and fired again, barely missing Damian as he dove again. He rose, blasting shot after shot into the space in the center. It creaked and spasmed, blasting shots left and right, and then slowly shut down. Damian approached the smoking mass cautiously, gun still shouldered. "This is not good," he said to nobody in particular.
Hunter watched intently, replaying the scene over and over again. The weren't any visible projectiles coming from the gun, but he could just make out a disturbance in the air. Whistling softly to himself, he smiled. "You sly dog, you made yourself a pneumatic gun." He called over an assistant. "I think we may have a real winner here," he said. The assistant merely nodded, watching the footage.
well Imma gonna end here, but there'll be more tomorrow. Here's what I had in mind when I was talking about a pneumatic gun:
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Chapter 2 continued...
Well folks I'm back. And I realize that I forgot a pic from friday's blog. I seem to do that a lot. So it'll be down below along with today's.
It was some sort of small sphere, made out of dully shining metal, with a small appendage coming out of it. The strange digit gripped the ground and then retracted, dragging the sphere forward with it. It kept crawling, heading towards him. He didn't know what to do. As it progressed he saw another come from out of a distant hall. He looked back to the first one. It continued on its path, but suddenly stopped when it was about a meter away. There was a high frequency screech, and then the sphere split in two. There was a big red eye-like lens in the center. The one down the hallway followed suit. And then they attacked.
There was a soft kind of puff and then he reeled backwards, yelling. He felt at his neck, and there was a small dart embedded near the base. He screamed again as the second fired at him, nailing him in the chest. He stepped back around the corner and ran.
There was a room that he knew how to get to. It had a large array of items he might be able to use to destroy whatever those… things were. He turned the corner and fell down in agony. There were two more of the spheres down the hall, and that meant two more darts in his flesh. He shoved himself up and kept going. As he rushed at the spheres he grabbed a small tray that was lying in the doorway of a room. As another dart came whistling at him he smacked it aside and threw the tray. It bowled one of the spheres over, and slid under the second. As he flew by, he stepped on the edge of the tray, sending the little ball through the air. He rounded the next corner and ducked into the first doorway, slamming the door closed. Sweating, he pulled the darts out of his skin, then looked up.
The room was gigantic, full of all sorts of parts and tools. There were saw and drills and welders. And there was a ton of metal. Somewhere inside himself he knew he could use this stuff. Knew how to use this stuff. He stood up and smiled. It was time to make some toys.
Hunter watched the screens carefully, a smile painted over his face. "He's found the Garage," he whispered to himself.
END OF CHAPTER TWO
So that's all folks. Here's my pic from friday, what I envisioned of as the facility.
It was some sort of small sphere, made out of dully shining metal, with a small appendage coming out of it. The strange digit gripped the ground and then retracted, dragging the sphere forward with it. It kept crawling, heading towards him. He didn't know what to do. As it progressed he saw another come from out of a distant hall. He looked back to the first one. It continued on its path, but suddenly stopped when it was about a meter away. There was a high frequency screech, and then the sphere split in two. There was a big red eye-like lens in the center. The one down the hallway followed suit. And then they attacked.
There was a soft kind of puff and then he reeled backwards, yelling. He felt at his neck, and there was a small dart embedded near the base. He screamed again as the second fired at him, nailing him in the chest. He stepped back around the corner and ran.
There was a room that he knew how to get to. It had a large array of items he might be able to use to destroy whatever those… things were. He turned the corner and fell down in agony. There were two more of the spheres down the hall, and that meant two more darts in his flesh. He shoved himself up and kept going. As he rushed at the spheres he grabbed a small tray that was lying in the doorway of a room. As another dart came whistling at him he smacked it aside and threw the tray. It bowled one of the spheres over, and slid under the second. As he flew by, he stepped on the edge of the tray, sending the little ball through the air. He rounded the next corner and ducked into the first doorway, slamming the door closed. Sweating, he pulled the darts out of his skin, then looked up.
The room was gigantic, full of all sorts of parts and tools. There were saw and drills and welders. And there was a ton of metal. Somewhere inside himself he knew he could use this stuff. Knew how to use this stuff. He stood up and smiled. It was time to make some toys.
Hunter watched the screens carefully, a smile painted over his face. "He's found the Garage," he whispered to himself.
END OF CHAPTER TWO
So that's all folks. Here's my pic from friday, what I envisioned of as the facility.
and here's todays, the Garage.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Chapter Two- The Neo-Evolution Worldwide movement
Here's a bunch more of chapter two for y'all.
Hunter Lars III paced the floor, his eyes sweeping the room. There were lab assistants everywhere, white coats turned towards him as the monitored their screens. Every so often there would be a bleep and then more typing. But mostly watching.
The Neo-Evolution Worldwide movement was working as hard as it could to process the data for the experiment. So far everything was okay, but there were so many factors it just seemed like anything could go wrong. He sighed, turning towards a passing worker. "How is it going?" he asked in a whisper.
The man nodded. "After his initial shock, he went into a bit of a recession. But he's up and roaming now, and everything seems to be going okay. We should be ready to start more intense tests soon." He adjusted his glasses, nodded once again, then went back to work. Hunter grunted, then turned and walked out of the screening room.
The room was empty, and Hunter felt just a twinge of melancholy at the nice furnishings, expensive tables, and costly draperies. Such grand furnishings, and at the end of the world. He shook his head and sat down. The world faded to black as he closed his eyes and nodded off slowly.
He sat up. At first he didn't know where he was. But it all came rushing back to him. Trapped, He thought slowly, sleep still grasping him gently. Trapped like a sorry lab rat, running around, searching for the cheese. Because that's really what he was. A rat. Subject 41149115. Groaning, he stood and looked around. He'd been wandering around for three days now, alone in this facility. And every morning there was… bingo. A small breakfast, waiting for him, and a pack full of lunch and dinner. He didn't know where it came from. It was just there. Didn't really matter to him, anyway.
He was just about to grab a sausage, when he heard it. It stopped him in his tracks. He listened intently, and it sounded again. A faint tinkle like a note from a broken music box. And it was closer the second time. He slowly stood up, and walked to the corner off the hall. Inch by inch he looked around the turn.
And he saw the strangest thing he'd ever seen.
That's where I'm stopping muahaha. more tomorrow. Night, everyone.
Hunter Lars III paced the floor, his eyes sweeping the room. There were lab assistants everywhere, white coats turned towards him as the monitored their screens. Every so often there would be a bleep and then more typing. But mostly watching.
The Neo-Evolution Worldwide movement was working as hard as it could to process the data for the experiment. So far everything was okay, but there were so many factors it just seemed like anything could go wrong. He sighed, turning towards a passing worker. "How is it going?" he asked in a whisper.
The man nodded. "After his initial shock, he went into a bit of a recession. But he's up and roaming now, and everything seems to be going okay. We should be ready to start more intense tests soon." He adjusted his glasses, nodded once again, then went back to work. Hunter grunted, then turned and walked out of the screening room.
The room was empty, and Hunter felt just a twinge of melancholy at the nice furnishings, expensive tables, and costly draperies. Such grand furnishings, and at the end of the world. He shook his head and sat down. The world faded to black as he closed his eyes and nodded off slowly.
He sat up. At first he didn't know where he was. But it all came rushing back to him. Trapped, He thought slowly, sleep still grasping him gently. Trapped like a sorry lab rat, running around, searching for the cheese. Because that's really what he was. A rat. Subject 41149115. Groaning, he stood and looked around. He'd been wandering around for three days now, alone in this facility. And every morning there was… bingo. A small breakfast, waiting for him, and a pack full of lunch and dinner. He didn't know where it came from. It was just there. Didn't really matter to him, anyway.
He was just about to grab a sausage, when he heard it. It stopped him in his tracks. He listened intently, and it sounded again. A faint tinkle like a note from a broken music box. And it was closer the second time. He slowly stood up, and walked to the corner off the hall. Inch by inch he looked around the turn.
And he saw the strangest thing he'd ever seen.
That's where I'm stopping muahaha. more tomorrow. Night, everyone.
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