Saturday, November 28, 2009
"The Russians, I assume, No?"
"Sí. They have the bomb." The line went dead.
"Dios Mio." whispered the nun. She left the phone hanging in her hurry as she went to dismiss the class. The second they were gone, she closed the schoolhouse and hurried to the chapel. First she went to the cellar where the supplies for the Eucharist were kept. She blessed a chalice of wine, and some bread and partook of the sacrament. She then upturned the box of bread wafers, and unlatched the false bottom to reveal a multitude of silver discs, polished to a shine and sharpened to a razor edge, roughly the size of the wafers. She took these, and then hurried back into the sanctuary to remove the sword that had so long been hidden in the cross at the pulpit. She went to the altar, and opened the Bible which had been undisturbed for decades. A beam of light shot through the stained glass window at the front of the church, and illuminated the pistol that was nestled in the hollow book. Maria knelt, genuflected, and said a prayer. Then she rose, and sprinted from the building to where her motorcycle waited. Stalin had gone to far. He now faced the wrath of the nun.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
So, for those of you who don't know this, I am a HUGE fan of musicals in general. However, Rodgers and Hammerstein are some of the best out there. That's not opinion, that's just fact. (Just kidding. Mostly.)
Time for a little history! The Sound of Music opened on Broadway with Mary Martin as Maria, and Theodore Bikel as Captain von Trapp. It was immediately successful, and is one of the most performed musicals in high schools across America. It was adapted into a movie in 1965, starring Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer. The movie beat Gone with the Wind as the number-one box office champion of all time. It held this statistic for over 30 years, until Titanic beat it in 1997.
So anyway, I know there's a "this day in history" thingy on the blog, but I wanted to commemorate this date with a post. (Plus, who knows when I will again, so yeah...) YAY, MUSICAL THEATER!!!!!!!!!!
Monday has always been the domain of my dear GLaDOS. However, despite the fact that she is Still Alive, you'll be GLaD to hear she won't be making an encore performance until Portal II. So now we must fill the space with something, lest Met greedily snatch my posting territory, as he is wont to do. Option one is a Jacques Cousteau tale; a prequel to my first. Before the beginning, I'd like to note how astonishingly difficult it is to write like this. Even so, I managed to write
A Prequel, Part I
Well, one thing's clear, thought Jacques Cousteau, It's dark. And so it was. As Jacques descended the blood soaked stairs into the dark depths of Darkdeep, the darkness deepened. He dared not unsheathe the Feldagger the Medium of Doomspeak had given him, for it still glowed with the blood of the fallen Yeti-Worm that had ambushed him. The light would cause the hosts of Darkdeep to notice him. And when they notice me he thought, Then they will know that the Gatekeeper is no more. If that happened, even the Half-Djinni Spirit King's blessing couldn't save him.
Option two will bring us all back to the days of our childhood. It will show us the dreams we dreamed, and the lives we imagined into being. It will then proceed to trample them, rend them thrice in twain, and force-feed them to us through a funnel caked with a slimy substance of questionable origin. Yes, it has come at last!
Pokemon: The Golden Apocalypse - Prologue
Red ran through the dense forest, branches ripping at his clothes and snaring his feet. The vines that hung down from the canopy were covered in vicious thorns, but he ran straight through them, ignoring the searing streaks of crimson they left on his exposed face and arms. Behind him, a roar bellowed through the trees, causing some branches to fall, such was its ferocity. He tripped on one of these and before he could rise, the skies darkened. A reptilian monstrosity flew through the air above, spewing smoke from its nostrils and fire gleaming on its tail. As it flew past, a torrent of water erupted from the river to Red's left, and the dragon fell from the skies, somewhere to his right. The Blastoise turned in Red's direction, where the Charizard had fallen. Cursing, Red jumped up, and tried to escape the spot where soon, no doubt, two behemoths would battle. He had barely started, when both creatures fled from some creature more terrible than either of them. Though hidden by the forest, its advance was marked by the tremors that shook the ground and the crashing of distant trees. Red ran for but a moment, before reaching a clearing at the end of the forested valley. His heart sank, and his thoughts dulled as he slowly realized there was no escape; instead of a steady rise to the level of the surrounding land, there was a steep cliff, precluding any progress. Red turned, intending to run past his pursuer, when the Venusaur entered the clearing. The titanic beast stood twenty meters high, and a vine thicker than a large apling snaked from the bulb on it's back. Just as it was about to grab Red, the sun reached an angle that cause light to suffuse the scene. The vine retracted as the bulb on the giants back opened. A glow began to emanate from the flower, which grew unbearably bright and then leapt from bulb. The beam howled towards Red, heat rolling off it in waves and-
Red awoke screaming. Realizing it was just a dream, he laid back down. He was almost asleep when an errant thought strolled into his consciousness. He was sixteen today. It was the day of the Calling.
Option three is where I write a dark tale, Elphaba calls it horrible, I reply sarcastically, Met intervenes, Elphaba sides with him and I cry.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Speaking of which, if I suddenly disappear in an "accident" in the near future, start here. Reogan might kill me. Or not care. I really have no clue.
Monday, November 09, 2009
(Twelve points to anyone who can explain why Peru is the ideal country for this excuse)
The hero emerges from the mountain dungeon onto a ledge just below the outer rim of the caldera. He sees that, as his foe claimed moments before, all his efforts were for naught. A twilight had fallen over the land. A lugubrious lethargy leeched life from all beings. The skies slowly broil with a faintly rumbling lightning. The remains of the Pandora still glow in the aftermath of the inferno. The hero looks on the land, as even the plants seem to break under the oppressive weight of the darkness. All at once, the faint wind ceases and a chill falls across the land. The color drains from all life, and only grey remains in the shadow. The hero looks at his own sleeve - his own arm - and in the light of his sword sees, to his relief, he still has the bright vitality he had possessed before, if a little dimmer. The world, though, seems to be devoid of hope, and seems to foretell a coming absence of life. Suddenly, a movement catches the hero's eye. He sees something nearing the ashes of the city. He recognizes the mayor of his own town, along with the prominent working men of the village leading a caravan to the ruins. Between the men, shielded by them, are the survivors of Pandora. There are merely a few score - the flames took many - but there are enough. The village would rise as a phoenix might. It is now that the hero sees a splash of color in the crowd. Helping an old woman along, is Pandora, the kind girl named after the very village she has come to rebuild. Hope lives on.
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Monday, November 02, 2009
The fumes leeched
She lay on the ground,
Struggling for air
That was no longer there.
If I was thinking,
If a shred of my mind remained,
I would have foreseen
Her next move.
Coursed through her veins.
She was at me
She removed what little remained
And killed me.
As I died
One final time
I watched her pick through
She broke my heart.
And I love her.
Sunday, November 01, 2009
I clawed my way up through the darkness and woke screaming. My heart raced and my muscles were tensed to escape from some imagined and already unremembered terror. The entire house seemed silent after the echoes of my yell faded. I laid there, soaking in sweat for a moment, before I realized that it was far too hot under the covers. Upon standing, my vision swam, and I fell to the bed. After a slight pause, I stood again and, swaying slightly, made my way to the kitchen. I didn’t bother with the light, because I’m always certain that I’ll see horribly intelligent red eyes and a dripping maw right outside my window. Being a writer of decidedly dark fiction does that to you. I fumbled in a cupboard to get a glass, cringing at every noise. Finally succeeding in quietly extricating one, I went to the sink and filled it. The moment after I took a drink, I was struck by the thought that something could have been in the glass, and I wouldn’t know. I might have swallowed mouse droppings or a quietly pulsing arachnid egg mass unaware. I poured what was left down the drain, set the glass on the counter, and walked to the door. I opened it and slipped outside. The cool fall air was wonderfully refreshing, and I closed my eyes as I raised my head to the sky. It felt like something was horribly, horribly wrong, but it always did, and I refused to act on the feeling. Every rustle of the grass was an abomination lurching towards me, every breath of air the whisper of wings bringing fanged doom from above. I’d long since grown used to this paranoia, and so I felt my very soul shudder when, upon opening my eyes, I saw a figure, silhouetted in the light of the full moon, standing on the roof of the house across the street. His attention was fixed down the road a ways, and he didn’t seem to notice me. Without turning, I slowly moved back until I could feel the door behind me. I grabbed the handle, and turned, but it was locked. Icy terror gripped me, and the world turned black. How long I slept I do not know, but I awoke before any sign of dawn had appeared. The glass sparkled with frost, and a chill breeze blew. I shivered, as I tried to recall why I was here. I couldn’t help but gasp as I remembered and I swung my head up to see my neighbor’s roof. There wasn’t anything on it. Then I heard the thump of a great weight landing, and a single stone fell from my roof to my shoulder. I looked up and saw those terrible eyes looking at me, wreathed in wrinkled brown scales. Four long fangs protruded from a dripping snout, and the stench of decay wafted down to me.
Minutes later, all was silent in the cold night. The air was still and the frost glinted red in the moonlight.