Maintenance

This is today's post. I am improving the blog today. The changes are mostly behind-the-scenes, but there is one extraordinarily major cosmetic change I think you'll agree suits the blog. Tomorrow's post is also the concluding post of the Apocalypse. It will be epic.

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Seventeen

Red stepped forward, his foot sinking into the mossy ground. The glade was sheltered and the air was still, yet there was no hint of stagnation. Everything, from the sun's bright rays shining from above to the faint moisture in the air from the pond, felt pure. He walked on, leaving Nyoromo to waddle slowly after him. He approached the old man who, content with his fishing, didn't seem inclined to conversation. That suited Red well, and he sat nearby. He removed his shoes, and allowed his feet to dangle into the water, where a collection of magikarp swam stupidly in circles. At the base of the rocky spur, Nyoromo dove into the water, and as the ripples reached Red, he laid back, happy. The man was certainly odd, and he had dragged Red here mostly against his will, but even so, the glade was the most peaceful place Red had seen. He could see why the man hadn't left Fallen Viridian. He began to doze lightly, as the fish nibbled at his toes, and the man sat with his staff-turned-rod.

Red awoke to the smell of roasted magikarp. He sat up, wincing at the unexpected pain from his previous exertions, and turned. Though he felt like he had only slept for a short time, it was already quite dark, however the height of the surrounding cliffs could have something to do with that. On the shoreline, Nyoromo and the man were sitting by the glowing remains of a fire, over which a makeshift wooden structure held fish, still cooking. Obviously, they had been cooking for some time, as more magikarp was piled on a stone slab nearby, well browned. Even more fish sat on the man's wooden plate, though he paid it no mind and it fell onto the dirt as he cut Nyoromo's fish into pieces small enough for the diminutive creature. When the man saw his dirtied meal, he tossed it into what Red had thought to be a handful of large stones. The objects converged on the food, and Red could make out faint growling.
He rose and walked to the man, who waved towards him as he adjusted a cooking slab. Nyoromo looked up from his fish, which he had set upon with vigor, and bubbled happily as he saw his master. Red sat by him, in front of a second wooden plate, onto which the man was already placing some magikarp. He was handed a knife, but no other utensil. Red attempted to cut his food, but found it difficult without anything to hold it with. When he finally managed to carve off a piece and taste it, he was amazed at the taste. The purity of the glade seemed to have seeped into the fish too. It tasted as nothing Red had eaten before, yet he knew, somehow, that this was how all things should taste. He savored it, but even so it was gone far too soon.
"This is delicious!" he exclaimed as he struggled to cut away more. The man smiled at him.
"I'm glad to hear that. Samuel and I used to always come out here for lunch. We'd fish for hours, though it didn't take that long to catch a meal." He gestured at the tower of fish beside him. "I was the better fisherman, though Samuel cooked them. He was always better at that sort of thing; he loved science, and cooking was like it. He tried to teach me, but I somehow manage to cook out most of the flavor."
"Buh thif ith delifouth!" protested Red, his mouth now full of fish once more.
"I may have gotten a little better over the years, but Samuel's cooking was a league of its own." The man stared at the coals for a minute, and absently tossed some food into the group of creatures. Red looked at them again.
What he had thought were grey rocks in the twilight were actually a collection of dull purple and blue creatures. The purple ones were larger, maybe two feet tall, and had jagged ears and spines, which blended well with the surrounding cliffs' rock. A short, sharp horn protruded from their foreheads, set above two large eyes, which glinted in the firelight. They squeaked quietly, and their rodentine teeth moved a little with every sound.
The blue creatures, which were slightly smaller, also had the spiky ears and backs, but these were less pronounced, as were their horns. They were rounder than their purple companions, but seemed to possess the same basic structure. Their only distinctive characteristic, other than color, were their four whiskers, two to a side.
Seeing Red's interest in the animals, the man spoke. "Are you fond of the nidoran? They never came when Samuel was around. They must like you. They gather whenever I fish here, and they manage to eat all my leftovers, no matter how many magikarp I catch." He fell silent for a moment, studying the pokémon.

Almost as if on cue, they stopped eating, and froze. Their large ears tilted upward and their sounds ceased. The man frowned, and his brow furrowed. A black shape appeared in the sky, and flew down at a terrifying pace. A screech rent the air, and the nidoran bolted, disappearing into the cliff face. Red scooped up Nyoromo and made to run, but the man grabbed his shirt collar with an iron grip. The bird reached them, and landed on the man's shoulder, squawking madly. Red recognized as a spearow, though he had never seen one interact with a human without violence. The man seemed to almost listen to the bird, and then spoke to Red gravely.
"Put out the fire. Quickly. We can't stay here." He looked at the sky, blue above their shadow. The light seemed ominous now.

For Your Benefit

There is no true post today. Don't fret. A double post will appear tomorrow, and I'm willing to bet you will find it worth the wait.

I did.

Summer Magic

Julie sat at her laptop, smiling. School had let out the day before, and she was anxious to start the tradition she'd begun two summers ago: playing mahjongg while listening to her favorite pianist, Yiruma.

She had discovered him entirely by accident. She had been listening to a random video on YouTube (she didn't even remember what it was), and found a video entitled Kiss the Rain in the Related Videos section. Julie thought it was a nice title, so she clicked.

Julie was absolutely floored. Yiruma was skilled, but it was so much more than that. His music seemed to speak to her in the very depths of her soul... a place where no one but God could reach. Or, in this case, God working through His creation of Yiruma's talent.

The mahjongg part... Julie wasn't entirely sure how that even began. But the game was peaceful and relaxing, even as she constantly tried to top her best times. And somehow, whenever she combined the two...

It was summer magic.

Consequences, Part 4

*Note: this one's a little disturbing. I checked with Reogan to see if some of the content was okay, but you might want to take that into consideration.*

Christina stepped apprehensively out of her parents' car. Slowly, she examined the area around her. It was a wooded area on the outskirts of town, about a forty-minute drive from her house. A deep, rushing river flowed next to where she was parked. Christina had almost fallen in, which would have spelled her doom--underneath the raging water were sharp rocks that she knew could crack her skull open.

She pulled out her cell phone. No reception--it figures, she thought bitterly.

A twig snapped behind her, and she whirled around. "Hello, Christina."

Christina almost gagged. It was John's father, dragging a bound and gagged John behind him. "Mr. Cordell? It was you?"

"Yes, Christina. I do apologize for scaring you, but I needed you out here. Where we could be alone," he emphazised.

The hair stood up on the back of Christina's neck. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, Christina, let's not act dumb," Mr. Cordell chuckled evilly and pulling out a gun. "You know perfectly well what I mean."

Christina took an unthinking step backwards, and nearly fell into the river again. "You would kidnap and threaten to kill your own son just to get to me? What is wrong with you‽"

"Don't you understand? Now that we're here, we can be together! Spend the rest of our lives with each other!" Mr. Cornell kept ranting, unaware that his son had slipped his hands free of the ropes that bound him. Suddenly, John tackled his father and grabbed the gun.

"Don't move, Dad," John spat, utter contempt dripping from his voice.

"Oh, John, you wouldn't kill your own father, would you?" Mr. Cornell begged.

Christina stared in horror as John's finger moved closer to the trigger...

Sorry!

I'll get something up tomorrow. It's been crazy

Eh...

I tried to make a good one this week. I don't know how you will like it. I think it's okay. It is a recolored mightyena and parts of a quilava. The gray parts are supposed to be darker, but when I post them on here, they get lighter.

GLaDOS Lament II Teaser

All has been put
Into place.
We have rebuilt
Everything
That she took from us.
We have toiled.
We have thought.
We have created
Anew.
What had been
Perfect,
Is more.
In the darkness
We shine.
The time has come.
She is to awake
Again,
After so long.
Everything is perfect.
No questions remain.
Except one.
We love her.
Do we forgive?

Jack

Jimmy unwrapped his new present. He was startled to find a box with a crank. He had never seen one before. He was only three years old and had not yet stumbled upon the classic jack-in-the-box. His parents told him to crank the handle. He did. Then he screamed. It was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen. His parents laughed. It made him mad. He was three years old and he got a terrorist device for his birthday. He began to cry. His parents comforted him still laughing.

Jimmy sat in his room, staring at the box. He wanted to try again. He wanted to beat it. He picked it up and sat it on his bed. He cranked. He winced as it jumped into his face. He tried again. This time he knew he could do it. He cranked. The lid opened. He saw nothing inside. Then he saw a horrifying face fall from his head into the box. He screamed again. It was good. Jimmy knew he could do better. He cranked again. Again, the lid opened, revealing an empty box as the face fell from his head into the box. He hadn't screamed. He had done it. He tried again. The box was empty after he cranked it. However, he never saw the face fall back into the box. He turned around and saw "Jack's" whole body. It was hanging on his doorknob, locking it. Jimmy screamed. Jack flew back into the box. Jimmy was still determined to win. He cranked again. He tried again. The empty box opened. He heard a gunshot and his window smash. He smelt smoke coming from outside. He looked through his window. Jack was burning the porch. He screamed. Jack flew back in the box. Jimmy decided to stop. Jack could not be beaten.

Jimmy learned and important tip about life. Always give your jack-in-the-box the respect it deserves.

I realize this was an off day. I am uber-tired and couldn't think of much.

Sonnet IV "Midnight"

Formless, shapeless, endless void
Replaces all things but the sky
Where glimmer angels overjoyed
To spread their wings once more and fly
Above a world where things unseen
Walk paths of threads of souls entwined
To silently, in sleep, convene
And leave the hurts of life behind.
While in their dreams the angels dance
And all occurs as they intend,
So that, while in the dream-worlds trance,
The sleeper's thoughts reach happy end.
The youthful magics live again
And banish thoughts of worlds mundane.

Death by a Thousand Papercuts

"We've got to stop them!"

"We can't..."

"Yes we can. What happened to your determination?"

"It's over; they've won."

"Not while I still draw breath. I have my rights and my freedom and I sure as hell are not going to let myself lose this way. If we lose, everyone falls."

"Just bring it on, I've had enough of this anyway. It's over."

"This is just one battle! We can still win this war. This may very well be our last stand, and if that's the case then so be it! I will stand firm and I will fight to the end. Truth will prevail!"

"Truth never prevails."

"Long term my friend; this isn't over. We've tolerated far too much already and it's about time we made a stand for what we believe."

"Why does this feel like the end? I know full well what this means. You may call this one lost battle, but things will never be the same again."

"I know, but we move on. This is the end; the end of their beginning and it will get much much worse. Let us put an end to this end, let us finish this, we will not fail."

"Life isn't fair."

"What? You just noticed? Of course life isn't fair, it isn't perfect, but that's no excuse for not taking a stand."

"What can I hope to do?"

"Join me, and we will make this a war that will not be forgotten. Let us endure them no longer! Stand firm my brother and we will prevail in the end."

"There isn't much hope."

"Then let us make some."

"I will... I will join you. We cannot let this end now."

"Then together we stand. We will not let this happen again. We will not fail."

"No more... No more... Death by a Thousand Papercuts."

Sonnet III "Noon"

The sun sits in its rightful slot
From where it grants its light to all
Revealing what is as it ought
To be, and that with weary pall.
To those things lacking vibrant life
It sends out soft, caressing rays
That are nepenthe for their strife
And guides to help correct their ways.
Below, the faces one-by-one
Turn up to see what they had missed
Illumined by the light they run
Ahead, for what they always wished
Is true, the world an open book
Where treaures lie for those who look.

Sonnet II, "Dusk"

A veil without a touch or weight
That grants yet a distinctive feel
Of rest and peace, as is its trait,
Befuddles sense to see the real
As but a facet of the gems
Of that which is or soon will be.
The train of thought that always stems
From this transcends Eternity
To see that which will never die,
Though shadows tear and demons reap.
The realization "Ah, 'tis I!"
Brings calm that hastens gentle sleep.
Despite the fear of lurking foe,
Phantasms bright begin their flow.

Consequences, Part 3

Christina rushed into her house as her cell pone started to ring. "Hello?"

"Well done, Christina. I can see you're very good at following directions. No one is in the house with you, correct?"

"Yes, no one's here," she replied, fighting the trembling of her hands.

"Good. Now, let's see if you're still good at following directions. Can you get away tonight?"

Christina thought for a moment, then gulped. "I'm not sure. I might have to lie to my parents, and I really don't want to do that..."

"Then you have a decision to make, Christina. Either you lie, or John..." the man chuckled evilly again, "...well, let's just say it won't go very well for him, will it?"

Christina bit her lip. "I can get away."

"Good. I will call again at five o' clock with directions for where you need to drive. Goodbye, Christina." He hung up.

Christina sighed. She was being pushed to the breaking point, but in doing so, had discovered something about herself: she had hidden strength there.

"I'll save you, John. I promise," she whispered into the empty house.

Sonnet I "Dawn"

A soft suffusing molten gold,
With motes that twirl in constant dance,
Shines through the window, thin but bold,
And spears the shadows like a lance.
The stone illum'ned casts out a spray
Of lesser beams of greater hue
That, through the threshold, greet the day
By gleaming off the morning dew
To rise again to meet their Lord,
Who forged them from a precious place,
And who, finding their look untoward,
Restores them to their former grace.
The colors join, and fade to white;
A blameless glory, clear and bright.

Windows

Timmy loved to look out windows. He enjoyed noticing all the nature around him. He had a big window in his house. It seemed every time he looked out his window, he would see something beautiful. He sat on the windowsill and looked outside. He watched the flowers blowing in the wind, and then noticed two birds, looking for worms in the dirt. He saw them tense and fly away, as a beautiful fawn trotted out of the woods and fell on its belly, still learning to walk. A mother deer came out and tried to help her baby up. Timmy thought it was very lovely. A few minutes later, his cat came walking into his yard. As it just got off the porch, an enormous eagle swooped from above and carried it away. A man came walking across. He stopped and stared at Timmy through the window. They were inches away, with just a sheet of glass coming between the two, then Timmy noticed something behind the man. A rabbit was hopping behind him and it began to grow. It slashed the man, and he fell over, blood staining the ground. As the giant rabbit began to devour the man's organs, a gunshot was heard and a bullet smashed through the window, missing Timmy's head by millimeters. The rabbit turned to face its hunter. The hunter took out a knife, and as the rabbit leaped upon him, he sliced open its stomach. The rabbit fell on top of the hunter and Timmy thought that the weight of it would have crushed the man. He then noticed an arm sticking out from underneath, and saw it crawl away, hacking itself off its body. It moved toward the window. It began to climb up the windowsill to face Timmy. Timmy heard his mother calling. He headed toward the door of the room, glancing at the arm trying to break through the window. Timmy loved to look through windows. It showed him the beauty of nature.

I hope this isn't to bad for this site, it was just an idea I had.

Aiden II

Every day, I felt her watching. She didn't think I knew, but I did. I have no idea how Aiden found me, but that was irrelevant now. Fact was, I knew.

And I didn't blame her a bit.

Oh, sure. In court, I didn't show that I was sorry. Even the judge told me, "Your lack of sorrow forces me to impose the death penalty." But none of them, not even my parents, lawyer, brother, or anyone else knew that inside, I was sick over what I'd done.

I'd originally been studying to be a psychologist. I knew I was being delusional when I killed Aiden Hall. But she looked so much like my ex-fiancée, Melanie--the witch that left me at the altar. I was so mad, and in my sick brain, I thought that killing someone who looked like Melanie would give me some release from this pain... But it didn't.

The police reported that it was an anonymous caller that let them know where I was. No one knew that I made the call. I couldn't live with myself, but I couldn't just turn myself in, either. No, what I had done was deserving of death. So I fooled them all, making them think I was some kind of unapologetic monster--when in reality, only the first part was true.

So, here I sit on Death Row, after being haunted for months in that classroom. Waiting for justice to finally prevail...

For Aiden.

Philia

"No"

"What??"

"No"

He stared at me in disbelief.

"I didn't ask for this," I said

"I don't care if you asked for this, it's upon you and you can't ignore it,"

"Yes I can"

"I am not going to sit here and watch you do this!"

I looked up at him.
He paused.
He began to turn.

"Wait!" I cried

"What?"

"How am I supposed to do this?"

"I can't tell you that! Only you can tell yourself. I didn't come this far to see you whine and give up near the end! Get on your feet!"

"It's too confusing! I don't know what to do, I don't know how to... I... I don't know..."

"I know, neither do I, but you can't just stand here,"

"Why not?"

"Because there's a world out there that does what it wants, and you can only make an impact if you do something. If you just stay here and die all of this will be for nothing. This world doesn't care right now, but you can give it the opportunity to care. I have not come this far to see you quit now!"

I looked up and saw the his face resolving into an emotion I couldn't deny. It wasn't going to change anything but me, yet in the grand scheme of things it mattered. I understood, and I knew in that moment I was not alone. I had love, so what? I had the absolute trust I needed to continue, and at that point it didn't matter.

"Yes"
I nodded.
He looked at me and I knew I was going to make it.

We began to run.


Together.

A Clockwork Orange

There the orange sits in its ticking
Always clicking, clockwork ticking.
Time has passed, the ticking faster
Yet still slowing and the Master
Recoils from repulsive sight
Organic clockwork, damnéd blight.
Abomination not to be
Forbidden fruit enticingly
Calling out to be embraced
By servants dark. The Light outpaced
Sheds little glow for Hope to see
And as the shroud falls totally
A show of horrors old and strange
Arrives on steeds which laugh, deranged.
The circus tents bloat up and rise
to blot the starshine from our eyes.
Within their folds a wretched thing
Writhes madly in the center ring.
The audience of yesteryear
Returns once more to laugh and jeer.
Throughout the crowd stalk faceless fiends
With sickles sheer and tattered wings
From which flow fear of pain and death
Yet sweet nepenthe is their breath.
And so about them throngs the horde
Forgetting he who was their Lord.
Without the light of thought within,
Succumbing wholly to their sin,
They prance about the piteous being
Who, in his throes, begins to scream
A cry devoid of Hope or Light
That echoes in the hellish night.
It howls until soundlessly
Its soul slips through the agony
Away to where the Light still glows
While at its corpse the twilight shows
The ancient rite begin to wane.
Having done that for which they came,
The faceless fiends away as one
And now the terror has begun,
For lacking that which banished thought
The crowd knows truly what they've wrought.
So weeping they fall in the mud
Dirt moistened by the ritual's blood
And in the pools of sinful wrong,
They lie until their breath is gone.
And only Darkness stalks the night
Fore'er extinguished is the Light.
Above, the Master softly weeps
As underneath a Nothing creeps.
He leaves his world to ever stay
A tomb for life that can't obey.
Within sepulchral shroud of death,
Where Nothing lives to take a breath,
A ticking sound falls to surcease.
Fallen creation's final peace.

Mawile Arbok

This is one that Reogan and I had worked together on a while ago. I especially like the middle one, which was made from again, the mawile head, and an arbok body. I don't like the third one quite so much, because the head is so obviously Steelix and the body is obviously Rayquaza, but I thought that these were pretty cool. Sorry I couldn't do more. I have barely been getting any sleep lately and I didn't have much time. If you have any ideas on how to make these any better, please share.

Consequences, Part 2

John left to go to Algebra II, and Christina strolled down the hallway towards Physics. They both smiled to themselves as they kept thinking about each other.

After school, Christina was called into the office. Mrs. White, the elderly secretary, smiled. "You have a telephone call, dear."

"Do you know who it is?"

"No, he didn't give his name."

Christina frowned in confusion, then shrugged and went in the back to pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Be very careful to do what I say, when I say it," a rasping, grating voice commanded. "Do not speak until I tell you. If you break these two fundamental rules, your precious John," the man sneered, "will never see the light of day again. Say 'yes' if you understand."

Christina gulped. "Y-yes," she stammered in fear.

"Good. Give me your cell phone number."

She wracked her panicking brain for a moment. "555-8376," she whispered, tears choking her vocal cords.

"Please improve your performance, Christina. We wouldn't want to scare poor Mrs. White, now would we? Say 'yes' if you agree."

How does he know my name? Or where I am? "Yes."

"Good. I will call you in a moment. Now, just to ensure your cooperation..." he trailed off menacingly. "Would you like to speak with John? Answer yes or no."

"Yes!" Christina gasped. She struggled to keep her composure so as not to frighten the poor secretary just a few feet away.

"Christina?" John's voice came, but it was slurred and confused-sounding.

"Yes, yes, I'm here," Christina soothed.

"Christina..."

A rustling noise came in the background. "Go home." It was John's captor again. "I will call you in five minutes. If you do not answer..." the man chuckled in a sinister tone, "Well, we both know what will happen, don't we? Answer yes or no."

"Yes," Christina whispered again.

"Good. I look forward to speaking with you again." A click sounded. Christina stood at the phone, the dial tone not registering.

Return

"I'm back" I said


"Good"


"I've decided to become more involved"


"Good"


"As my first step I'd like to change the name of th-"
"No" he cut me off
I looked down and saw the knife protruding from my chest.

As blackness overtook me I thought I'd ask one more question.

"Why?"

"Because I like my name"




So much for trying to co-admin a blog with an egotistical maniac...

Apologies

I am no longer participating in March Madness. The Apocalypse is delayed indefinitely. I have other muses to serve now, none of whom wish the public to see their whispers. I'll still be a presence, but an infrequent one.

Song of the Week 13: 'Swingin' With Death' by Nase

So it seems like Reogan is in some trouble in coming up with the stream of posts he was hoping for, so here I am unannounced to cover for him. This song of the week is Nase's debut from Castlevania: Harmony of Dissonance called Swingin' with Death. I'm usually not a big fan of this type of music, but the way this is executed with the music is pretty cool. Thanks to OCR I've come to appreciate jazz a bit more then I used to and with this mix I've definitely become someone to automatically download anything by Nase that pops up at OCR. The only thing about this mix that makes me somewhat disappointed is just that it seems too short. I would've loved to listen to this for longer, but the short bit we have is definitely good enough. I guess I'll just have to keep listening to it over and over again...

Ugh

March Madness is great, but something broke. I'm just disappear for a bit.

The Future

Drew Scott glanced around the town he traveled through on his way back to The House. The roads were completely faded, animals infested every livable space possible. Ancient houses had crumbled in on themselves, and the odor of rotting life polluted the air. Scott watched as a creature shook violently and fell to the ground, to weak to move. He saw another with worms coming out of its skin. He was thankful for his air tight transport. He didn't want to know how the people of the past could live in such contaminated conditions, and was definitely glad his draft time was nearly over. He couldn't wait to have his memory cleared of this horrid world his ancient ancestors had lived in. How could anything get moved if things actually had mass? How could people live if they had to learn so much just to afford a home or food? They were almost to The House now. He could see it in the horizon, just a few more days and they would be there. The House was so large it could be seen from hundreds of miles away. It takes a big building to fit a quarter of the world's population into. Good thing they made four of them. Scott thought about how much he preferred his APLUS life. That is the way most people live. Back in the real world where everything was perfect. He didn't like this dangerous, survival of the fittest realm that he knew next to nothing about. He was randomly selected to be taken out of what he thought was life, to this strange place where everyone used to live, where there is limited space and time, and you need to do strange things to live. He had to take years of classes to learn how to move, and how to think. Everything was so confusing and depressing here. He was dying to get his memory cleared and return to his peaceful, perfect, life. He was so tired from collecting vitamins with his team to supply to the residents of The House. He fell asleep, not to wake up for several days. He dreamed, and was unimaginably horrified. He had been warned of sleeping, and how dangerous it could be. He had no control over his body, and strange scenarios that made no sense were taking place, but it all felt so comfortable. It seemed to only last a second when he was forced awake by someone. He got up, refreshed himself on how to walk, and moved back into The House. He still had a few days before being put back to APLUS. He still had to help with bringing more into APLUS. He was brought to the room full of strange, miniature versions of everyone else, and was instructed to push a cart full of them to the newest hall, and put one in each room. He had to hook them up to a food source, a small tube with needle on the end that he stuck into their wrists, and hook up the excretion system, and to the liposuction system. They already had their video cards stuck directly into their eyes, a painless process, he was told. He was finished now. All those years of training and working were over, he was so exhausted, he collapsed on the spot, his body was barely able to handle the small amount of work he had done. He woke up a few days later, after a permanent employee found him lying in the hall. He was lying on the surgeon bed, with several people standing over him with strange objects in his hands. He watched as they moved them towards his eyes, and the most unbelievable pain consumed his body, he did not know how long it lasted, but after a time, he felt the sudden jolt in his brain as it was erased.

Scott opened his eyes. He did not know where he was. It was a strange place. He felt himself doing something. He did not know what. He noticed the images he saw were changing. The strange feeling stopped with the images. He tried to do it again, voluntarily. It took sometime before he manged to move again, with his sight changing as he did. He tried some other kind of movement, and an object moved up into his sight. He observed it. It was a strange thing, a kind of circle shape with five appendages coming out. He flexed them, and they moved, they curled around each other. He held up another one and touched it to the first. The strange sensation of touch surprised him. Something programmed into his mind told him where he was. APLUS, Automated Perfect Life Utopian Simulator. He had no clue what it meant. All he knew was that he liked it. It was effortless, it was never-ending. He could do anything. He could communicate with others, who were apparently just like him. Everything was perfect. The bright colors of the LCD lights that covered his eyes were so fascinating. However, he did not know he had eyes. He did not know that the world he lived in was completely virtual, nor will he ever know. Scott, like most of the world's population, has been captured by APLUS. The virtual world that started out as a game. As the real world grew harder to live in, people noticed how virtual worlds were so much easier. Technology advanced, allowing them to directly control their characters. No one wanted to leave. The world government decided life would be so much easier virtually. The Houses were built. People were moved, minds deleted, video cards installed, lives perfected. This is the future. The future has happened, there is no turning back.

Monday

The wall is breaking
Apocalyptic gleaming
Shines gold through the cracks.

Yes. I think I might have it figured out. Reogan has returned. Or... will return I suppose. I must discuss the matter with myself first.

Twenty

Today. Today I'll make everything better. I hope. Remember, though, that no story is better than an inherently flawed story. Force me to post and I'll kill Nyoromo. I will.

Mawile Heads

Sorry my post is a few minutes late, Forrest Gump is a longer movie than I thought it was. So I realized that pokemon look really cool when you switch their original head with a Mawile Head, so here are my first three. I plan on adding more over time.

Chapter Nineteen

did everything in my power to write the Apocalypses I missed, but they just didn't come. I'll try again tomorrow.

Song of the Week 12: 'Link to the Mask' by Dazey, Nubioso

Alright, this is completely unexpected and spur of the moment, but I happened to be surfing the web on my iPod and I saw the newest release from OCR. So it's Majora's Mask and I know Reogan loves Legend of Zelda, so I decided to check it out. I read djp's review first and I realized this wasn't going to be my average every day remix. In fact; that's why I'm posting it here, because it is completely different from mostly everything I listen to. I'm not sure if I even like it or what, but I have to admit that is creativity at work, just like djp says. Just read the review and then listen to it; I was cracking up during most of it due to the sheer genius involved to write something like this. Seriously, Zelda rap? I know it exists in other incantations, but this is actually pretty cool. Listen to it here, and keep in mind this is very different. It's not even my kind of music, but it's worth an extra song of the week for sheer genius and for making me laugh.

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Eighteen

I'll get to it. I have illnesses to attend to.

Glad there's a twelve post delay on fanfiction.net (mind you, the Apocalypse isn't fanfiction, but the site still accepts it) so that most of my readers won't get interruptions.

Consequences, Part 1

Christina stared at her boyfriend and smiled. Remembering their first date, she blushed lightly as John turned around and winked.

The bell rang, and the two walked out of class holding hands. "Did you have fun last night?" he asked.

Christina grinned as she opened up her locker. "Heck, yeah. I can't believe it's our six-month anniversary!"

John hugged Christina from behind. "Love you," he whispered.

Her heart skipped a beat. "Love you, too," she whispered back. It was the first time they had said it to each other, and so was the happiest day of their lives. But the happy pair didn't notice the man hiding behind a corner, watching them.

Waiting.

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Seventeen

Is delayed due to illness. I'm allowed to do this, as there's a Thursday post, and March Madness only requires I write 31 chapters by April, not one per day. I'll try to make it up later.

The Action Potential

Contained within everyone
there is

capability;

consistent, but random.



Kill
or be killed.

Survive
or die.

Rise
or fall.


There are no second chances;

not this time.


So make a choice,
but you've already made it.

Try to stay alive,
but you know you'll die.


In the end
what matters?


Look around you,
can't you see?


You can't run.

You can't hide.


Not from this.



Irreversible action;

everyone has


Potential.

Track Record (a letter to the readers)

Thanks in large part to Reogan this blog has been in business; posting every day so far since December 24th, 2009. Of course let's not forget Elphaba, who after finally making it through a tough first half full of blogger conspiracies has emerged as quite the contributer and practically replaced me in terms of commenting on everything Reogan posts. This is nice because it gives me a break to do other things, but I hope to return to the force I was before Elphaba's arrival. Then there's whatever his name is nowadays; apparently it's Quopar at the moment. After initially going through a few times of being an author and not being an author he's come back to post almost every week although I admit he's rarely on time. Hopefully he'll step it up again, but even I'm a bit impressed at the level he has brought it to thus far; so props to him. Now we come to me; the nearly invisible admin I've been over the last four months or so is sort of a metaphor for my posting as compared to Reogan. So I've decided to become involved a bit more if I can, I'm actually very tempted to hijack Thursday Thoughts, but it'll probably now be broken even a bit more between Reogan and I posting and then maybe an occasional song of the "week". I could also end up helping Reogan out on a few of his stories. I want to become more involved here and if you've got an idea for something you'd like to see from me please post it; keeping in mind this is me and I'm not Reogan. Speaking of which I finally tagged all my posts under my name so you can see all of my posts total. Hopefully this has served some use in informing you. I always appreciate valid input; see you around.

-Met

Comparison

Jimmy was a cute kid. Jimmy was very smart and could read at a very early age. Jimmy was raised by very smart parents. Jimmy killed his parents. He didn't know any better. He killed a babysitter, too. The police said "We did not want to take Jimmy out of his home, so he is taken care of from a safe distance. He never learned how to survive anywhere else but inside his own home. So that is where he will stay."


Now think about Tilly the whale...

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Sixteen

From the house, they traveled southeast through the dead city until they reached the edge of visible ruins. At this point, Red could just see where he originally entered Viridian to the south. Ahead of him was a dirt path that led slightly upwards, cutting a rift between two towering rock walls on either side. The path was wide, but from the moment he stepped between the cliffs, Red felt a faint claustrophobic anxiety rise within him. The walls reached so impossibly high, that it seemed any shift in the rock could send the entire structure down. Hearing Red breathing in shorter, shallower breaths, the old man smiled.
"You like the valley? It's an interesting phenomenon, sure, but it's nothing next to the true Tohjo Mountains. These are just the foothills." He gestured vaguely about with his staff, as if to express a thought without words.
Ahead, a wall came into view. Though it was much shorter than those that surrounded the party, it was far too tall to climb, and Red wondered what the man intended to do. When they drew near, though, the man gave Red's sleeve a faint tug, and turned right towards the cliff. He walked straight to the obstacle and, without slowing, stepped right and disappeared from view.
Red stared for a moment.
The man's wrinkled face appeared in midair where it had vanished. "Are you coming?"
"I, uh..." At a loss for words, Red walked towards the head, and suddenly everything became clear. The man had not disappeared, he had simply stepped behind an outcropping from the main rock face that concealed a fissure just wide enough to pass through. Red stepped around, into the passage, and was surprised to see the man halfway up a trail at least fifty feet long. The ground was rocky and uneven, and Red had difficulty remaining upright. He climbed slowly, and the man was already over the brink before Red had moved more than a few yards.
When he finally reached the top, his panting paused as he gasped. In front of him was an idyllic glade, sheltered by the mountains, but exposed to the noonday sun high above. The ground was coated in moss and some short variety of grass, and a few fruit-laden trees grew around a large, sparkling pond. On a rock spur jutting into the lake sat the man, tying a line onto his staff.

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Fifteen

The man began to convulse and wheeze. Red didn't know what to do. Not only was some sort of pokémon about to strike, but the man seemed to be having an attack. He glanced at the creature in the closet, then back at the man. Sputters of noise burst irregularly from the old man's mouth. Red suddenly realized what was happening.
The man was laughing.
The man made as if to speak, but the laughter precluded any conversation. Still wheezing, he walked right up to the beast, and tugged on one of its claws. Without a sound, the pokémon fell forward onto the ground.
"Haven't you ever seen a kakuna, boy?" This comment struck the man as hilarious, and he doubled over, guffawing.
Red looked at the thing's back, and saw that there was a hole near the center. The inside was dark, but enough light entered for Red to see the other side.
"It's hollow."
"Of course it's hollow, my boy. It had better be, considering I've slept in it for..." He trailed off, thoughtfully. "I suppose it's been over a decade now. To where have the days of youth flown?"
Red squatted by the shell, and examined it. "You sleep in this?"
"Safest bed I've ever had."
"Safest?" Red, looked up from the cocoon curiously. He had never thought safety was much of a concern when sleeping indoors.
"Of course! Beedrill molts are some of the hardest things in this forest. And this one," He gave it an appreciative kick, "Was certainly well hardened before it evolved."
"But why not use a bed?" Red stood now, looking the man in his sharp gray eyes.
"Well, ever since I- no. I ramble. How would you feel if we waited until we had some nice poliwag soup to talk?"
"No! I mean, sir, that Nyoromo - the poliwag - isn't for eating. He's my... helper."
"Poli!" Nyoromo wriggled in Red's grip at the mention of his name.
"Oh, why didn't you say so, boy?" The man began to push the papers back into the cabinet.
"I tried-"
"We shall have to catch breakfast then. You may assist me."
"I don't-"
"Well, let's be off. We have far too much to do, and your company, though pleasant, has simply wasted much of the time we had." The man took his staff from behind the door, and dragged a vainly protesting Red out of the house with him.

Pokémon: The Golden Apocalypse, Chapter Fourteen

"What? Sir, he isn't for-"
"I have the perfect recipe in my cabinet, I'll just go grab that." The man walked off through the door, still talking. "It's been a while, but poliwag has always..."
Red watched him go, and when he heard the man's talking grow as distant as could be expected in the humble dwelling, he hurried to leave. His hand, slimy from his pokémon's flesh, slipped a few times before getting a good grip on the handle. He turned it, but it refused to move more than an inch. Red, remembering the key in the man's pocket, sighed, bracing himself for another brush with madness. He turned and stepped into the doorway to the back room of the house.
The old man was rummaging through papers on the ground. The papers appeared to have come from a cabinet that had fallen on its side and had gouges on every surface. But for the cabinet, the room was empty. Red stepped forward, into the room, and gasped.
In a closet the wall had concealed when he was in the doorway was a terrifying pokémon. It was as tall as a man, if not taller, and had two triangular eyes set on its dome-like head. Below the eyes was a sharp pointed thing Red thought might be a mouth. The body below that was segmented, and the sections seemed to overlap. Halfway down its length were extended two arms with viciously curved claws. The entire thing was a dull yellow, from its round head to the point on which it rested, save its eyes, which were black and unfeeling. These awful things seemed fixated on the distracted man.
"Look out!" cried Red. The man turned, and saw Red. Following his gaze, his eyes slowly moved to the pokémon in the closet. A strange look came over his face.
For a second, nothing moved.