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More Futurisitic Fun Than You Really Wanted, part I of V

Started by The Good Reverend Roger, March 29, 2011, 04:58:14 PM

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Eater of Clowns

I don't have a clear idea for what to do with The Hessian.  Sams I figure I could pick back up when CPD finishes up her storyline, though that again I'm not sure where to go.
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Luna

If you're hung up on the thread you've got, spin a new one.   :wink:  More, MORE!   :D
Death-dealing hormone freak of deliciousness
Pagan-Stomping Valkyrie of the Interbutts™
Rampaging Slayer of Shit-Fountain Habitues

"My father says that almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know, everybody you see, everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake, and they live in a state of constant, total amazement."

Quote from: The Payne on November 16, 2011, 07:08:55 PM
If Luna was a furry, she'd sex humans and scream "BEASTIALITY!" at the top of her lungs at inopportune times.

Quote from: Nigel on March 24, 2011, 01:54:48 AM
I like the Luna one. She is a good one.

Quote
"Stop talking to yourself.  You don't like you any better than anyone else who knows you."

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

I'm getting there, sorry guys. Work has been a bitch and I keep injuring myself in new and interesting ways. There's one more segment, maybe two. Sams lives, the hooker dies. That much I have. I planned on writing the rest Saturday after I get off work. :D
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

P3nT4gR4m

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 22, 2011, 05:21:43 AM
I'm getting there, sorry guys. Work has been a bitch and I keep injuring myself in new and interesting ways. There's one more segment, maybe two. Sams lives, the hooker dies. That much I have. I planned on writing the rest Saturday after I get off work. :D

You've roont the surprise now  :argh!:

I'm up to my arse in Brexit Numpties, but I want more.  Target-rich environments are the new sexy.
Not actually a meat product.
Ass-Kicking & Foot-Stomping Ancient Master of SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK
Awful and Bent Behemothic Results of Last Night's Painful Squat.
High Altitude Haggis-Filled Sex Bucket From Beyond Time and Space.
Internet Monkey Person of Filthy and Immoral Pygmy-Porn Wart Contagion
Octomom Auxillary Heat Exchanger Repairman
walking the fine line line between genius and batshit fucking crazy

"computation is a pattern in the spacetime arrangement of particles, and it's not the particles but the pattern that really matters! Matter doesn't matter." -- Max Tegmark

East Coast Hustle

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 22, 2011, 05:21:43 AM
I'm getting there, sorry guys. Work has been a bitch and I keep injuring myself in new and interesting ways. There's one more segment, maybe two. Sams lives, the hooker dies. That much I have. I planned on writing the rest Saturday after I get off work. :D

Can I kill the hooker? Write it any way you want, but if the hooker gets killed by a nessie (or, alternately, gets killed by something else right as the nessie is about to get her), that would be aces.
Rabid Colostomy Hole Jammer of the Coming Apocalypse™

The Devil is in the details; God is in the nuance.


Some yahoo yelled at me, saying 'GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME DEATH', and I thought, "I'm feeling generous today.  Why not BOTH?"

Eater of Clowns

As a firm believer in break the hero, I think Sams should accidentally kill the hooker while trying to kill ECH's Nessie.   :lol:

EoC,
total bastard.
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

Quote from: Rip City Hustle on April 22, 2011, 07:17:54 PM
Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 22, 2011, 05:21:43 AM
I'm getting there, sorry guys. Work has been a bitch and I keep injuring myself in new and interesting ways. There's one more segment, maybe two. Sams lives, the hooker dies. That much I have. I planned on writing the rest Saturday after I get off work. :D

Can I kill the hooker? Write it any way you want, but if the hooker gets killed by a nessie (or, alternately, gets killed by something else right as the nessie is about to get her), that would be aces.

The hooker dies via a Nessie. I like the Sams-kills-the-hooker angle but don't know if I possess sufficient amounts of bastardry to do it. We'll see what happens. :D
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Eater of Clowns

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 23, 2011, 01:24:54 AM
Quote from: Rip City Hustle on April 22, 2011, 07:17:54 PM
Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 22, 2011, 05:21:43 AM
I'm getting there, sorry guys. Work has been a bitch and I keep injuring myself in new and interesting ways. There's one more segment, maybe two. Sams lives, the hooker dies. That much I have. I planned on writing the rest Saturday after I get off work. :D

Can I kill the hooker? Write it any way you want, but if the hooker gets killed by a nessie (or, alternately, gets killed by something else right as the nessie is about to get her), that would be aces.

The hooker dies via a Nessie. I like the Sams-kills-the-hooker angle but don't know if I possess sufficient amounts of bastardry to do it. We'll see what happens. :D

There's straight up wild mass guessing about your storyline.   :D
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Eater of Clowns

#428
Five armored figures walk in a line down the sewer tunnels of Southampton, England.  Adorning each is a cheerful cartoon Lock Ness monster, complete with smile and kilt, of the sort found in the roadside rest areas leading to the attraction.  The first figure, the one in the lead, is the simplest.  The monster is green, its big watery eyes spared the marks of the large red X over the image.  The Hessian moves patiently, and with a nervousness that belies the deadly strike he's come to teach his followers.

Behind him the Loch Ness monster shares the same colorings, down to plaid of the kilt.  The exception is its eyes, which are scratched out in a scribbling angry hand.  Its bearer, a Hessian.  They are, all of them, The Hessian's students and they bear his name.  But they are a Hessian, and their leader is The Hessian.  In the rare times the other Templars question it, this is what they are told.  The eyeless monster moves like a panther.

Following, the third in the line, a deep red color for the drawing.  At times a thick coagulation and at others a flaking crust, the monster is made of blood.  Blood of Nessie or blood of man is unknown; blood is in no shortage here.  An air of nonchalance shows itself in the movement.

Second to last the Loch Ness monster is black on a painted white background.  It has no eyes or smile, its drawing is crude, and like the rest its X is bright red.  The look is almost that of a chess piece.  It gives little to the answer as to which side is winning the match.  The wearer walks as one with the man behind him, their movements practiced as they tread back to back in the narrow walkways, steady visors scanning their sides and rear.

Finally, a monster of what appears to be rust.  He is a mirror of the man before.  Back to back, eyes always scanning.  He feels the group halt without seeing it.  The first of The Hessian's students, the most apt to guard their secondary point of vulnerability.

They stop.  Each of them questions why, silently.  The move again.  Passing the spot they'll search for the reason behind their pause.  No reason will come from the scene, but it follows shortly with the song.  Nessie's song the sweet lullaby the concert the show the sorrowful and angry death bell of the sewers, the sultry voice behind smoke and golden liquor the mockery of beloved music for its, more than anything, foreignness.  And the Hessians know the pause was the fear.

Nessie came, fast violent shadows and death in four forms.

"They're attacking the center," said The Hessian, "take your targets."

The line broke, as always, while the fighters moved to their assailants.  They moved to wait for the blow that would kill them.  It did not come.  Another blow came instead.

"I'm down," the rusted one cried.

"Down," the eyeless monster.

"They're pushing us out, glancing us to get us out of the way!  Get back up, they're surrounding the others," The Hessian shouted.  He worked with the servos to haul the weighty metal from the slime and muck of the bottom, desperate to stand before the attacking creatures.  It made too much sense.

All four Nessies coiled at once.  The figure with the chess piece charged.  He threw himself with all the weight of the armor behind him at the nearest attacker.  While his weapon pierced its flesh, he bowled forward still, with the faintest hope his momentum might take him beyond the reach of the second set of limbs.

The figure of blood took his target.  His second Nessie struck home.

Three fallen Hessians joined the fight again, squaring off as they'd been trained.  The Burst came appropriately, this time, with surprise no longer against them.

Two of them tended to the wounded man, the one with the Loch Ness monster of black.  His suit was malfunctioning and he bled and he moved, weakly.

The Hessian stood above their fifth.  Behind the visor lay eyes no longer lit by the spark of curiosity that set this group, not above, but aside from their peers.  They were the eyes of a young man.  They were the eyes of two others before him that walked beside their leader in the sewers.  And before even them, they were the eyes of a young man whose foolishness was not to tread through the death wish tunnels, but merely to talk to the wrong friend.
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

 :mittens: Eater of Clowns, that was awesome.

Now excuse me, it's time to kill a hooker.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

The would-be heroes, a hooker and a man with a mission, stood in the basement surrounded by a ring of reporters.

Sams used a heavy, metal bar that he'd found in the janitor's closet to hit a pipe that disappeared into the lower sub-basement. Unearthly howls and heart-rending wails echoed up from below them, shaking the floor and sprinkling dust down from the basement's ceiling. Cracks appeared in the walls. Someone in the ring around them whimpered.

Again and again the bar hit the pipes, taunting the monsters below them until the building rumbled on its foundation and the keening cries deafened the people who were slowly coming to terms with the fact that there really were things that went bump in the night - and would eat you while you wondered what it was.

"Enough! God, that's enough!" One of the reporters shouted angrily. Fear danced over his face as he stared at Shareese and Sams. "And you can prove this is a monster and not some prank?"

"We can," Shareese said with a sharp, leering smile at the man. She was scared too, but damned if she'd let them see it. "We're going to let them out."

The noise from below died as if a switch had turned off. As if the creatures had heard her and were eagerly listening for details. But that was impossible.

"Sweet Jesus," a woman murmured. "They heard you."

"Doubtful," Sams replied. "More likely they got tired of hearing themselves wail. Now listen. We're going to give you three minutes to get outside to safety so long as you promise to tape what happens once you're clear. Surely one of you wants the story of the century. The military has pulled back far enough not to be a threat while whoever is really in charge replaces the moron we talked to earlier. So we're going to take this opportunity to stir things up."

"Why?!" One of the reporters lunged, a short man with no hair and wild eyes. Foam speckled his lips as he jabbed his finger into Sams' chest to punctuate his words. "Why are you doing this? What gives you the right to panic an entire populace? What is WRONG with you?"

Sams put his hands on the man's shoulders and pushed, sending the man stumbling backwards. "We've been fighting these things for years. All while the populace had no idea. Homeless went missing. Children were slain. And the media made light of it. Covered it up. I'm partially responsible, I helped keep this secret. But people need to know. We are losing to these things, folks. They're bigger, faster, and I'm starting to think they're smarter than us. If humans want to survive, everyone needs to work together to beat these bastards."

"But - "

"No," Shareese said. "No more questions. You'll see for yourself first hand why we we're doing this if you have the balls to watch and the guts to report this. I'm going to escort you up out of the basement and to the front doors. Then I'm going to lock those doors, effectively sealing up the entire building. Every door and window has been locked. That won't hold these things for long, if at all. But it's full day outside and we think that will make them more wary. They aren't as fast on dry land, that will help too. But you still need to get to your vehicles, get set up, and start driving as soon as you see so much as a tentacle tapping in the window pane. Cover as much as you can then get out and spread the story. There is no negotiation here."

"Are you mad?" The bald man glared at her, panting heavily.

"We're all mad here," she quoted with a gentle tone. She gave them a moment to consider and then clapped her hands sharply, startling them and causing the monsters below to stir and slither against the stone beneath their feet.

The reporters raced for the stairs. Shareese gave Sams a small grimace and rolled her eyes, then followed the reporters up. She held the door for them, waved cheerily at the military men just visible a block or two away. Then she closed and locked the doors, secured them with a chain and returned to the basement. Do or die time, she thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Sams tested the seal of the metal hatch between the basement and the sub-basement. As big as a man and probably inches thick, it wasn't meant to be hefted lightly. But he figured one good heave would do it, if he put enough muscle behind it. Too bad there weren't any servos to assist him. A jagged bit of metal bit into his finger and as he lifted it, blood dripped, disappearing into the crack between hatch and floor.

Swearing, he stuck his finger in his mouth and backed away. Nothing stirred below, so likely the blood hadn't made it through. Stupid mistake, though. He went over to a large duffle bag of supplies and began pulling out package after package of stink-bait. The plan was smear the bait over the wetsuit to disguise human scent, then release the hatch and crouch down behind it, in the little nook it would make when open and leaning against the wall. Once the Nessies were all out, jump down the hole, holding on to the ring on the bottom of the hatch lid, locking the Nessies in the basement. Then it was a short trip through clear tunnels to a surface access (judging by blueprints) and off to Rita's to rendezvous.

Shareese and Sams had left enough raw, bloody meat to lure the Nessies up into the school proper. And with one of them waiting on the ground floor to taunt the Nessies upwards, it was pretty certain that the reporters would get a hell of a show. Whoever played bait would run to the principal's office, lock the several doors between the hall and the office itself, then go out the window and across the lawn at an angle, out of the line of fire, should the military grow some balls and start shooting.

It was a good plan. A trifle sketchy, but not the worst idea they'd come up with.

Shareese came down the stairs and helped Sams finish unloading the stink bait.

They hadn't discussed who was taking which part of the plan, yet. He figured he'd let them out and she'd play bait. Bait was the safer job, if only because there was more distance between the lure and the monster. But he didn't want to say that. She'd take it as a challenge and then he'd spend the last few minutes of his life being bitched at about gender equality and male presumption. Shareese was weird that way, he was coming to find.

"Have you ever done anything crazy?" She asked, breaking the silence. "Not this kind of crazy. But, you know, normal crazy. Like challenge your friends to an orange eating contest and then spend the next day comparing notes on the damage you all did to your respective toilets?"

He looked at her, blinking in confusion. "I don't think so. Didn't have that many friends. The ones I did have tended to be . . . un-indulgent of that sort of foolishness."

"You're missing out. That sort of thing is a good test of character. Not serious life-or-death character but, you know. Normal mundane character. How you react to a challenge. What you'll put on the line to achieve a goal. How you feel about your bathroom smelling like oranges and your asshole stinging for a week."

He shook his head. "You're crazy, Shareese."

"Tish," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"My real name is Tish. Ludlow. From Riverton, Kansas."

Sams stood up and looked at her, crouching by the duffel bag. "Where did you come up with name Shareese?"

She stood too, and smiled nervously, wrapping her arms around herself. "B.T. Ever listen to his stuff?"

"Never heard of him."

"Ah, well, he's got this album. Movement in Still Life. One of the songs he goes on about 'blond English girls with ghetto names'. And the seven thunders uttered . . . 'Shareese'. I liked it so I took it."

Sams shook his head and held out a hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ludlow."

She laughed and shook his hand. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Sams."

"I had a song stuck in my head, now that you bring it up," he said, remembering to let go of her hand. "Ever heard of The Mighty Mighty Bosstones?"

Understanding lit her eyes. "I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested," she quoted.

"I'd like to think that if I was, I would pass," he continued.

"Look at the tested, and think there but for the grace go I might be a coward, I'm afraid of what I might find out," they said together.

Then they paused.

Contemplating those words.

Tish broke the silence first. "You aren't a coward, Sams. Neither am I. We're going to beat these things."

"You're right, of course," he said with a grin. He pointed at the stink bait. "Who's getting greased up and who's playing the real bait?"

"Fuck you for it," she retorted, as she had the last time they'd tried to decide something.

Sams held up a quarter. "Let's flip a coin instead."

She laughed and nodded. "Heads, you open the door and tails, you run like a bunny."

"I want to see the bunny!" A child's voice said excitedly.

Tish and Sams stared at each other, horrified. A child in the building.

The boy came down the basement stairs and looked at Tish accusingly. "You said a bad word."

"Kid, what are you doing here?" Sams demanded.

The boy shrank back a step. "I wanted to see the monsters, so I hid when the other kids were let out. James was my friend and I wanted to write him a letter. Telling him if the monsters were real or not. So he'd know. Grown-ups always lie to kids about important stuff," the kid babbled.

Tish knelt and smiled at the kid. "I'm sorry I said a bad word. What is your name?"

"Thad."

"Hello, Thad." Tish looked at Sams. "What are we going to do? Let him out before we do this?"

"NO!" Thad cried. Sams shook his head.

"There's no way to say whether or not he'd actually go clear. Instead of hiding again. You'll have to take him with you to the principal's office. We're almost out of time."

"Me? We haven't flipped the coin yet."

"Tish . . . I don't know what to do with the kid."

"Odds are you're going to have to pick him up and run. You've got more muscle than I do. And you're faster," Tish pointed out.

"Shit," Sams said.

"That's a bad word too," Thad said sulkily.

Sams stared at the kid. Then flipped the coin. Tails. He was running. There wasn't time to argue. His stomach filled with lead and his mouth flooded with bile.

"All right," he said. "Let's do this."

Tish opened the first package of stink bait and began smearing it into her wetsuit. Sams zipped up the duffel and handed it to Thad, who nearly fell under the weight.

"Come on, kid. You're going to see the monsters."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

It took less than a minute to get Tish covered with the smelly bait and to get Thad up the stairs. Sams stood with the duffle strap draped across his chest and bouncing against the small of his back. He held Thad. It was the only way the boy could see and still give them room to run as soon as the door opened.

Tish looked at Sams. She gave him a thumbs up and then wrapped both hands around the ring. She kicked the deadbolt open and heaved backwards.

Nessies exploded out of the opening. Sams had a second to realize they'd gone silent when he'd split his blood. They'd been poised, coiled and ready to spring for the two minutes it took for them to talk, find Thad, and prepare. The Nessies had waited, as patient as cats with an unsuspecting mouse. And they'd sprang.

Tish didn't have time to crouch down. The hatch was slammed open, off its hinges and flattened against the wall. She was crushed into pink paste.

And Nessies moved so fast, they boiled up out of the sub-basement and shot straight for him. As if they'd known where he'd be. As if they were aiming directly FOR Sams.

Numb with shock, he couldn't hold on to Thad as the child wriggled and screamed. The boy wet himself and clipped Sams in the chin with an elbow. Then slipped from Sams' arms and fell into the basement. Two tentacles grasped either end of the boy and tugged. Thad pulled apart like a fried mozzarella stick, fresh from the fryer, his intestines hanging out of either part of his body like a moist, stringy bit of cheese.

Sams screamed, threw the duffle at the monsters, threw away his weapons and all their plans.

And ran, still screaming.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

The reporters knew something was wrong when the figure fled the scene, running full tilt. Then the school building burst apart like an over-filled balloon. Brick and glass went flying. Horrid monsters writhed and moaned, their high-pitched voices shattering camera lenses and car windows.

Reporters and the military alike were mown down as the monsters spread out and began to hunt.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

And that finishes this story arc. My SOs think I need mental help.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.

Eater of Clowns

Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 24, 2011, 05:55:45 PM
And that finishes this story arc. My SOs think I need mental help.

It was certainly exciting.

The awful shriveled little soul in me is giddy about the fact that you thought you didn't have the bastardry to have Sams kill Shareese, but you're totally cool with tearing a child asunder.
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AM
EoC, you are the bane of my existence.

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AM
EoC doesn't make creepy.

EoC makes creepy worse.

Quote
the afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.

Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.

Quote from: Eater of Clowns on April 24, 2011, 05:57:20 PM
Quote from: Cardinal Pizza Deliverance. on April 24, 2011, 05:55:45 PM
And that finishes this story arc. My SOs think I need mental help.

It was certainly exciting.

The awful shriveled little soul in me is giddy about the fact that you thought you didn't have the bastardry to have Sams kill Shareese, but you're totally cool with tearing a child asunder.

I wondered at that, myself. But I owed Pent for ruining his surprise, even though I said the hooker dies pages ago. I wonder how Thad's dad is going to take the fact his kid is Nessie-appetizer.
Weevil-Infested Badfun Wrongsex Referee From The 9th Earth
Slick and Deranged Wombat of Manhood Questioning
Hulking Dormouse of Lust and DESPAIR™
Gatling Geyser of Rainbow AIDS

"The only way we can ever change anything is to look in the mirror and find no enemy." - Akala  'Find No Enemy'.