What should be your super-power?

Your Superpower Should Be Mind Reading

You are brilliant, insightful, and intuitive.
You understand people better than they would like to be understood.
Highly sensitive, you are good at putting together seemingly irrelevant details.
You figure out what's going on before anyone knows that anything is going on!

Why you would be a good superhero: You don't care what people think, and you'd do whatever needed to be done

Your biggest problem as a superhero: Feeling even more isolated than you do now 

and / or 

Your Superpower Should Be Manipulating Electricity

You're highly reactive, energetic, and super charged.
If the occasion calls for it, you can go from 0 to 60 in a split second.
But you don't harness your energy unless you truly need to.
And because of this, people are often surprised by what you are capable of.

Why you would be a good superhero: You have the stamina to fight enemies for days

Your biggest problem as a superhero: As with your normal life, people would continue to underestimate you

Hamster saves the day! (ramblings 3)

After acquiring a job for which one has worked hard and prayed harder, one tend to be fall into the pool of excitement and is drunk with elation.

How often that happens to everyone else? I would not know and I could not guess.

Returning to the topic, the mentioned elated feelings then tend to linger and tinge the view of the world that the person has at least for a short time. This feeling of drunkenness can lead one to do something extremely foolish precisely when utter sobriety is the utmost requirement.

One such fellow not so long ago in a galaxy not so far away in a city not so unknown just happened to have done exactly one such act of foolishness while under the influence of this hyper-elation of a dream come true or rather a goal achieved.

True that this act of foolishness was not really all that bad but it was bad enough to ruin the day. A tiny nudging of the REM cycle was all that it was. But something that seems so insignificant, can have decently dire consequences or so that one elated fellow found to his/her dismay. For the day was nearly lost as well as the new job due to the the simple fact of going to bed just eight hours too late. Of course the "bad hair day" or  "ugly day" that followed could have gotten worse of that person had not the wit or the ability to think quickly on their feet.

So regardless of everything does the hamster come to the rescue of man!

Quick-Scribble: Invincibility

Mark of those that are but lost,

Irremovable at all the cost. 

Wreak order on th disorder,

Discipline chaos within the border.

Beyond the chasm within the soul,

An abyss that makes one whole.

For balance, combine this trinity!

Attain for a time mere invincibility!

By well me .. obviously!

I believe it can also be found on my deviant art account!

veiw the post below

To post or not to post?

After a gruelling night shift duty at work I am sitting here in front of the laptop wondering: should I post? If so, then what do I post? What do I feel like saying this time? But as an answer to all those question my mind just draw a blank. At least that is so for a while before my mind starts nudging me to post up the story I am currently working on and not the one that has appeared in the previous posts. I am unwilling to this bizarre direction my thoughts have taken, nevertheless even my heart yearns to share the story to have atleast some one read it and comment on it. But I am firm on this: that is one story I dont intend to share on the net naked to the eyes of those that steal ideas to further their self indulgences.

Therefore, I am here writing this out in an effort to confirm myself one way or another all the while also generating a post. Ergo fulfilling one of my wishes: to add a new post to my blog thus to keep it alive. Regardless, it still leaves the questions partially unanswered while raising others. I am posting and my thoughts are what I am posting, but am I really saying anything at all? I guess I am sharing a feeling of undecisiveness and that itself is worth the post.

I am sure everyone has their moments of undecisiveness at one point in time and space or another. So most everyone will be able to atleast partially if not completely empathise with me about the matter. Then for those awkward moments a moment of silence for their rapidly spent lives in most cases.

How I came to be at this point? Interesting question, and to answer it I will have to explain the last 20 hours or so of my life in this time-space continuum. For one I woke up at 15:00 hours in the afternoon yesterday and immediately got ready to be picked up by the shuttle service for work. Work for me means a day shift on the first day a night shift on the second day followed by two days of rest and then beginning all over. Each shift is about 12.5 hours long and round trip commuting take another 3.25 hours. This means that I actually work 31.5 hours every 4 days or one could say about 46.75 hours a week and all of that is actually accomplished in only 3 working days.

Returning to the matter at hand, we have established I woke up for work and then worked through a night shift. Being an Engineer working in field in the industry and also as last night there was some major clean up operation carried out on the equipment and vessels means that last night was ardous and more vigourous than most.

After arriving home in such a tired state, I climbed up the staircase to gain access to the internet, a friend I had not visited in the last 5 days. This meant a few inboxes filled to their brims with a bit of junk but mostly worth seeing emails and a handful that were urgent and demanded attention even when they arrived 4 days ago. When I was finished trawling through that universe of alphanumeric characters I finally had time for some personal head space. Hardly had I begun relaxing when I remembered that I had a blog which I wanted to keep alive and that it needed to be fed a post to accomplish this for atleast one or two more days. Hence this wall of text has been posted. Also to see if anyone has noticed my blog yet.

Ever the avid non-avid reader

Mo

A walk down Cotemplation Lane (note: ramblings 2)

Its been a while since I have been here. But here I am nonetheless.

Inspired by someone's blogging even if the recent posts were relatively small and seemed to have imaginary bullet points. I decided that it was time for a post of my own. A time when the zenith of introversion had been reached and a small amout of data dump was required for my system to be stable. Unlike most one could be like that. I mean like a computer or even robotic; collect the data then wait for an uplink and then dump the data onto the internet. Ofcourse that means I am talking about pre-programmed obsolete systems used for mass-dumping of information on the internet around the 1950′s era!

Anyway, maybe we should move on form non-sensical babble to some even more retarded ramblings that may end up just as abruptly as they began.

I wonder why then I have not been able to defeat the nemesis of most of our inner Scribes. Maybe I didn't have enough time or maybe I am more like some than I ought to be. Or maybe I am just too disappointed to see the stuff around me that is and then to keep it in relative stability I would rather abuse my self by bottling it all up than spill it out. Then am I good or am I an evil tormentor. Where does this test end? When did it ever really begin? Then again I remember when it began … one of my most vivid and devastating experiences and one i am loath to repeat … That was when it all began and it is all unlikely to end … ever.

This rage and all this political maneuvering does not suit me, I would rather just be, but then the question arises, where will there be progress if there is not an ounce of envy deep down within .. that aspiration of ambition or whatever you may call it that goads one to compete and excel …

And it ends just as abruptly.

A question anew? (note: ramblings)

Do I really need to do this?

i dont know but my deliberate oblieteration of a lot of the grammar is my personal stamp on everything that i scribble. it oversimplifies things which is usually simple enough to understand and where difficult i do revert to using  grammar as diligenty as we are supposed to have been taught. yes i call it scribbling and not writing because i dont write you see. for writing would involve conveying a whole message in one go in a most articulate manner of speech be it written on paper or typed up on the screeen. whereas i scribble to let the reader fleetingly glimpse at a portion of my thought rather than the whole because portions are understood easier by most than the whole picture. the masses have to be fed bits of the grand a piece at a time to subtley but surely win them over and leave them no room for their own thought.


i seem to be losing myself in thought …


every moment of every second of every minute and so on so forth is occupied by hundreds of thoughts within the mind of one person. what then would be the sum total of each and every minds thoughts per second and then per day. for it is thoughts stray or not that turn to words and actions eventually habits and character of that mind. but the mind is itself an onion. so many thoughts behind that metaphor that it is too time consuming to put them on paper and hence the use of the metaphor… get the message across in the shortest time possible with the least resources used. brutal effciency of the mind is the only thing that could come up with that. as i was saying the mind is an onion, layers upon layers, facades covering facades but which one is true self? only the owner of the mind knows.


but then through studying every detail of the life of the mind one can easily make out the most basic and foundation character of the mind … but nobody takes the time ….


time .. something everyone has too little off. if that is the case and everyone is so busy then what are they so busy doing? where do they all go? when do they all do it? while every is so very busy they still find time to check facebook or any other number of social forums, they find the time to check email, to wrtie scribble a blog, to read a blog, to text a friend and so many other things all of which are secondary to their primary duties and priorities but nobody actually has the time to actually do something meaningful or if they do then they start out meaning well but end up back in the throes of vanity and materialism …


wait what am i doing here ?


not really sure but i needed to tempt the words to flow from my mind to try and whip the lazy and obnoxiously obese mind back into shape and at 480 words approx it is already gasping for breath no longer used to the mental agility it possessed in days not so long ago


yet it has acquired a new facet a new lens to view the world with and it adds this to the already hoarded piles of dimensions it can view the world through and the kaliedoscope it can percieve is nothing compared to what the older and more mature minds can see but it is this particular pattern is something even they could not come up with.. the pattern is so ugly and yet so fascinating it is like a living being in itself and it has a hypnotic gravity about it sucking all that are within reach and spewing them out the other side having been shown glimpses of the trails of fire and blood that the soul of the mind has already gone through …


take a breath for even i cant seem to unravel what this mind is telling me and yet we live happily together in this selfsame cage that spews forth from its digits and taste sensing element the very same thoughts you see before you…


lost all is lost only to be found anew …..


to contradict the beginnning there are times when portions of thoughts are just that portions and they cannot be understood properly without signficant detail, insight and clear context … this is most often the usual case and therefore the method more in demand particularly due to the need to understand ones purpose and in a failed attempt to explain everything including those which cannot be explained more than the words miracle and devine intervention  and all just to know oneself better ….


what one would not do do be united with one’s self … mind body and soul …..

Girl

And to this end this spiel to finalize Boy’s thoughts into words and actions irreversible by anything except a miracle. His simple conclusion was that he should turn around and exit the tunnel if he was to be useful to those that depended on him. It all came to pass that Boy came to a conclusion analyzing and reflecting on his life and a side consultation with his sister in spirit Rory Rage. So he kept his peace in his turmoil, and remained one of those who hurt themselves within. There was only one choice left to B’Spartan, to be silent, for if he spoke he would take Jas’s side and renounce the rest. His love for Jas had blinded his emotions for everything else, no matter how well he understood the position of his friends and rivals on an intellectual level. B’Spartan, well no one knew what was going on in his head, he was the type to keep to himself. But Daud had shrouded that light to clear his head. Dragonia had pleaded sanctuary and silence. Even though he had thought of her as his light at the end of the tunnel, the same way as Daud had thought of her as his light in the darkness. He had problems of his own as does everyone, and he knew that, but his “hopelessly and endlessly” being in love with Jas was having a resounding adverse impact on his life. But his feelings and emotions started instead interfering with the rest of his life. It didn’t really bother Boy much as Boy and B’Spartan were close as and in spirit brothers. As time went by Jas and Boy grew closer and close but there was always one thing between them, Jas’s choice: B’Spartan. Keeping his word was one of the hardest things he had done in his life, not because it was a promise that he should not break, because he was good at keeping promises, but rather it was the nature of things that made it neigh impossible for him to keep his word. Boy stuck to his word that he gave to Jas; he would not let his feelings for her interfere with their relationship. Dragonia decided to leave it to fate and not interfere with anything being the ultimate obsolete style gentleman. Daud managed to become so frustrated he had to get away. Eventually that hope almost got siphoned of to a little atom in some dark corner of their minds. They on the other hand did not give up but instead hoped and hoped for that one day. Ofcourse she only had an inkling about the others, but despite their re-doubled efforts, it seemed she did not get their message clearly. Of his rivals, the oldest lover was Daud, then came Dragonia followed by Boy and lastly B’Spartan. From such marvelous specimens, Jas picked B’Spartan. None of the others were terribly happy about it, but they were content knowing she was happy. In his love for Jasmine, This Boy had rivals for her heart; James Rowdy Dragonia, Trystan Miracle B’Spartan and Daud Hauls. This girl had a beautiful name too; Jasmine Marvelous Gift. This Boy was simply known as This Boy. She had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had just come out of her grief period. One day, even This Boy fell for her, but she did not know. Her personality was such that most of the boys she knew had fallen in love with her, unknown to her innocent self. She was really kind and caring. There was once a girl who was beautiful, intelligent and smart.

This is an excerpt from the hear of This Boy.

There is story that needs be told.

Dream 1

I dont know who to trust, what a surprise!

Everyone feels so far away from me,  it seems such an effort to get them to listen to me.
Heavy, I fall down and drag my body only fooling myself with hope that I will reach them once more.
But this distance never seems to close, the view never seems to change,
Like an endless tunnel going up, and I lie at the bottom of the pit trying to climb out.
Only the walls of the pit a bare rock face slippery and without a hold.

Circle

Circle

Thoughts come and go never seeming to stay.
I lose my focus and the world becomes blurry.
I slip once more and fall yet again as somebody climbs past me.
Why am i here? Whats my purpose? Who am I?
A voice calls me from the end of the warping tunnel,
But unable to respond I fall further and harder everytime I try to move.
Only a glimpse I catch but it is enoug to keep me falling ...

Chapter 3: the awakening of the edge (part 1)

After what seems like eternity, Nagrod wakes up to find himself spread on what appears to be a surgical table. He catches a glimpse of a dhurkat lying in the lap of a man, just before passing out again. It seems we survived, but in to what did we land?

Beren was woken up by the dhurkat’s stirring. Apparently the Dragon Lady’s dhur-ryu had barely woken up and fainted again. Getting the Dragon lady out from under the rubble had been a task he did not want to think about right now. The condition she had been in was enough of trauma to deal with as it is. If there hadn’t been a handy repair mobile craft (RMC), he would never have gotten her out. Such beauty, lying distorted under the rubble had been a sight so vicious anyone would have nightmares about it.

At the moment, they were hiding in an abandoned and almost destroyed clinic he had the fortune of glimpsing on his way to the dragon lady’s rescue. How he had managed to get out of the situation alive was something even he was having trouble understanding. I am alive and so is the Dragon Lady, barely. Her guards were not so fortunate. What next? The question deigned to linger in his mind. Where do I go from here? How do I get help? The depressive thoughts gathered in his head.

A mumble from the other side of the room brought him crashing back to reality. It was the dragon lady; barely alive, but at least now beginning to wake. Making sure he didn’t agitate the dhurkat much, he rushed to the dragon lady’s side; he had to make sure she knew she was alive and was being cared for. It was the least he could do for a person of such high status – she was the champion of the country, a legendary hero for the populace. She was called the Dragon Lady because her dhurkat had matured and turned into a dhur-ryu, which looked remarkably similar to what used to be called dragons on old earth. He didn’t even know her name; after all, he was the lowest in the information chain as a mere citizen, albeit a researcher at the University of the Edge City, but not yet a professor. However, he had good eyes and ears, and was not shy of using them, especially for the cause of the country; as one of the lower informants to the intelligence types under the command of the Dragon Lady it was his duty.

He heard the mumble again, and despite his closeness he couldn’t make out if she was saying something or groaning in pain. He checked her injuries again, just to make sure he hadn’t left anything unclean and untended; everything was in order, at least on the outside. He knew there were likely internal injuries, which is why he had given her a maximum dose of the max-heal, not like she really needed it – she was bionic, more machine than biological; her position required it. Being bionic must be what saved her from that brutality, he thought. A sudden brush against his forearms made him jump. Looking down in alarm, he saw the Dragon Lady’s hand flop listlessly back to the tabletop.

“Where am I?” she inquired delicately.

“You’re in clinic, we are safe for now, relax!” he hushed. If she worried, it would affect the speed of her recovery, max-heal or no. Abruptly, she tried to sit up, a look of both pain and determination crossing her handsome features. He tried to keep her down with his hand, but she sat up regardless.

A hiss of pain escaped her, but she kept on pushing until she was fully sat up. Beren stopped trying to push her back down; her injuries were bad enough without any additional stress.

“You must rest, my lady,” he started. “Your Pinnace was planted with explosives. I discovered the plot, but I was too late to warn you…” His voice trailed off, the apology at the end dying of guilt on his lips. He glanced again at her face, at the discomfort crinkling the skin between her eyes. She’s healing pretty well, but she still isn’t in a condition to go charging out, he sternly reminded himself.

They continued to sit in silence; she was trying to see how much of her body still functioned, and he was obediently waiting for her slightest command. The silence was getting long and uncomfortable. Convinced there was nothing more she could do for her body, the Dragon Lady turned instead to their surroundings. Apparently, she was seated on the main reception counter of the smashed clinic; there was shattered glass sprinkled everywhere, two new paramedic kits had been torn open and left unused, sealed contents resting in their bags on the floor beside her makeshift bed, there was a rank smell of burning, and through the grimy windows she could see that the street outside was devoid of life, a chaotic mess of chunks of concrete, delicate slivers of glass, pieces of the Pinnace and, most importantly, the dead bodies of her subjects. Remorse overtook her as her eyes rested on their remains. I failed to protect them. The responsibility fell on her more keenly than the pain of her own wounds. I’m sorry. Dimly, she recognized they must be close the crash site, but this was overtaken by her sense of grief. As with any situation, she turned to Nagrod for comfort, realizing with terror that he was not with her. Panic like a bullet shot through her – he had been injured as well. Trying to remain calm, she scanned the room again, knowing that she would have seen him the first time, but doing so regardless. Turning painfully, she spotted his limp form lying on an operating table, which had clearly been dragged out from somewhere deeper within the clinic. Shock at the realisation he was alive gripped her heart along with relief, a sigh escaping her dry lips.

Noticing her source of relief, Beren subtly shifted closer to her to stop her from getting up. Thankfully she didn’t get up just yet. She must have been in more pain than he supposed – twisting like that might have reopened some wounds.

“I have tried everything I knew a little about dhur-ryu physiology; it wasn’t much, but it was the best I could do.” He apologised quietly.

“You saved us, I am grateful,” She smiled weakly, yet Beren could feel the depth of her appreciation through her fatigue. “But the assassins might be close by and we need to move. I need to get to Kinara; it was attacked in the dead of night and completely ravaged. If the latest reports are true, the city has been reduced to ashes.”

Beren contemplated the news in shock. Kinara? Destroyed? That city was supposed to be unassailable! The more he mused over the tragic brief the closer he came to a conclusion that he didn’t like.

“Important though that is, it is more important our heroes survive if we are to have the edge over our enemies.” he started. “You need to rest, we will get there and anywhere else you need to go only if you stay alive. I am a mere researcher, I cannot hope to be as good as you are at what you do, but I know that for this you must stay alive, and I will try my best to protect you. However, I am no warrior. You can try to leave this place now, but in your condition even I can overpower you. We will leave this place at night if you are in a hurry, Nagrod has to recover and you need the rest. Even the dhurkat needs some time for recovery.”

Impressed by his sound reasoning and touched by passion of the scholar the Dragon Lady was left momentarily speechless. His words had reignited the fire of her unrelenting attitude, and her strength she felt was already returning to her. Once she regained her voice, she chose her words carefully.

“You sir have aided this country selflessly. For this you will be remembered, I promise.” She reached out to clasp his hand in her own to demonstrate her sincerity. “You also mentioned a dhurkat? Do you know who it is bonded with?”

“I believe it has bonded me!” Beren replied somewhat unsure of their relationship.

“Congratulations,” she smiled warmly. That was good news indeed. If they were going to come out of this alive, a shared consciousness could keep more eyes out for their enemies. “I am Aredhel Alatariel, and you are?”

“Beren. Beren Minyatur, my Lady” He said, feeling imperceptibly the hand of destiny at his back.

“I shall remember.” Aredhel assured him, before Beren coaxed her to lie back down. She smiled up at him gratefully, aware of the darkness of weariness at the edges of her vision. With you my greatest hope lies.

——————————————————————————————————-

Muzamorous woke up to find himself imprisoned in a dark, damp cell with no windows. Immediately he recognized the one place that could possibly be this dark; the dungeon prisons of the space carriers. This means? His thoughts raced. Scrambling for a bit he could feel at least three more faces on the ground; one with a beard, so obviously male, one had long hair, so she should be the girl and the last, his captain, was bleeding from the left temple. Horrified to think about his friend’s potential fate, Muzamorous tried to think of a way to stop the bleeding. What do I do? Having no bandages or any first aid material with him, he frantically tore a strip of material from his sleeve and used that as a temporary bandage, seeing no other way to staunch the bleeding.

A few minutes of anxious waiting proved fruitious – the others were slowly coming to and getting up to inspect their surroundings for themselves. They were as disoriented as he was, but thankfully he was already awake to inform them of their current state of affairs. He decided he would have to assume the role of the leader; he got them into this mess, he would get them out. Or else my name isn’t Muzamorous Narmolanya, he thought furiously.

——————————————————————————————————-

It was a very long while before Momentus’ eyesight adjusted to the ambient light. He was still in that insanely bright cage, as he thought of it. To add to his trauma he thought he was starting to hallucinate; he could see the faint outline of a child sitting in one corner of the room, with his head on his knees. He looked like he was crying, his back heaving with silent sobs. To add to his frustration he was still tied to the table, securely enough that he couldn’t break lose.

“What is your name kid?” he asked in exasperation, trying to break the impression that he was totally useless.

The child realised he was being spoken to, but this sudden attempt at communication seemed to scare the child further, as much as it disappointed Momentus.

“Help me, I promise I won’t hurt you. We can go find your parents.” Momentus added trying to soothe him.

“You can’t!” the kid replied abruptly. “They died years ago, now it’s time for you to move on.” With each word the child grew, until he was as tall as Momentus was. The child looked just like him. Panic gripped his heart but he refused to give in. How could this be? Momentus asked himself. I am delirious came the answer unbidden to his mind.

Instead of reasoning with his hallucination he wanted to play along with it and see how long he lasted himself. However, that wasn’t why he was seeing it; he supposed it had been brought on by his bad physical condition and momentary reflection of his life. It was time he regained control of himself, and he understood in a flash of lucidity that the only way his subconscious could catalyse this process was to have him hallucinate. His image crept closer to him, suffering the onslaught of invisible knives as it was slashed with every approaching step. With each footfall, it oozed blood from the ever-increasing number of wounds. Undeterred, his image forged on, but it made Momentus uncomfortable, seeing himself incur this multitude of injuries. His skin itched. Finally, the image was right next to him. Standing there one minute and then hovering over him the next. As the image sank into his body, self-realisation activated, and his world went black.

After what seemed like eternity, Momentus woke up again. Still in his infuriatingly bright prison, but this time, his bonds had been broken. What he felt, while he had his delusions, even he did not remember, but he knew one thing; he had a purpose now, a reason to live, and he was not going to let his enemies keep him in a cage! In this harsh reality, his purpose was to one thing and one thing alone – to bring about justice for the worlds. In that moment ties to his country and any other bonds of the past had also been broken, remaking themselves into something more powerful than before. Also, his feelings for his friends intensified, a strong sense of protectiveness claiming his heart. So he made a biding pact to himself; “I, Momentus Minyatur, will be the bringer of revolution!” he proclaimed to the white walls. Echoing back at him, his voice seemed to reaffirm his belief, until he felt the room resounded with the truth of his promise.

Gaining strength from this, he rushed to the wall on his right, kicking it at the last possible instant; a loud groan of metal grinding against metal was heard, and the door opened by an inch.

Chap 2: From the other side of Edge

when i came to i was lying on the floor and was wet, the wetness felt warm. instinctively i got up and the pain that shot through my head was sufficient enough to nearly scare me into unconsciousness.

a minute or so to gather my essence together and then i had look around me when i could not see antyhing i got frustrated and was going to scream when i realised.

 ‘ crap! its night and i am in a dark alleyway’

then there were these two miny lights glowing and one second i could see them in the dark far away,the next they were on topof me and i could barely make out the the outline of a feline, maybe it was a hexapuma about to rip out my throat, but then i realised i could feel only four limbs,must be a cat i thought, and the amused bleak reminded me that it was not a cat but a treecat. i wondered, what is it doing here? as the treecat snuggled close to me i started to sense its presence mentally, then like the brigh flash of flash grenades i froze in shock of realisation;this little fellow must havebonded me to save me from those bastards. i checked myself again and made sure i wasnt bleeding, but then to whom did the warm liquid belong to? or was it just urine?

a low melancholy and also angry bleak brought me back to reality, it must be the treecats, but was it blood? i smelled it;it didnt tasste like urine, so it must be blood or something else, feeling the treecat i realised it was not bleeding and i was relived like never before.

then as i started to get up i felt a shoulder under my hand, feeling along i could feel the gouged neck of a human.

i still did not know the names of my attackers; just that the three bastards were after me. i had many enemies but which one had hired these well-built and well trained assassins? well it could all come later once i found a safer place to hide, have something to eat and some time to stop and think, that put the lid on it! i had to find out what time it was, and if i was too late to alert the dragon lady, she had to know, but what? i could not remeber at the time, so i just stood up and got moving.

suddenly a small form bumped into me. how could i have forgotten the little creature, ” i dont know your name, i dont even know why you are here and what you want from me? but if you stay with me then you will be in danger! so hurry and go back to where you came from.” i shoved the kitty away from me, i didnt want to throw the poor thing!

a few steps later it leaped and landed in my arms, how? well i still had to figure that one out, but it did and as it did even i was comforted.

then

i could not see anything, the light was so bright that my eyes hurtand i dropped the feline, it wasnt a treecat per say but it wasnt any normal cat either. it bleaked in pain just as i screamed for my eyes. and the thunderpus noised that came with it, for a second i thought i was hit by lightning, or was standing behind an air-liners main engine! how ever the heat wave and the shock from the impact though only a nanosecond later than the disaster took me and nearly tore me to shreds as i was splattered on to the wall at the end of the alleyway. the wall had spikes on it. although i couldnt feel just yet but the immense increase in pain distinctly gave the impression that i was alive but impaled ont eh wall in various places.

as sight returned i saw my tiny friend had suffered about the same fate as me, though i could not tell if it was dead or alive as it didnt seem to be moving yet. and then all was dark again, the light from the blast was gone. and i was petrified, that must have been the dragon lady’s pinnace, that was the only thing that blast could have been, and i mourned my stupididty, if only i had realised the conspiracy earlier, i might have been able to save the dragon lady and her scaly companion ….

“kyuuuu!” came a voice, but i was no longer able to discern if it was just my hallucination from fatigue or if it was reality and so i lost the battle against unconsciousness .....

“kyuu!” i hear an exclamation
light at the end of a tunnel. did i die or am i still alive? the light is coming closer.

closer

closer

closer

jerk!

i am sitting now, its day time but i dont know how long i have been unconscious, if i am still alive

“kyuu”a bleak of utter rejoice

then i guess i must be alive

***                                                                                 ***

unknown to anoyone in the rubble of a building blown apart by the explosion of the dragon lady’s pinnace, lie two bodies; both fragile and extremely broken, but alive, just by a thread. they can hear a voice as if somebody is calling them from afar but, neither is in a condition to reply in any way other than blinking and letting the tears flow. the bleak of a dhurkat is heard closer, it fills them with hope, but only slightly. it is quite possible that the dhurkat is all alone. still in the thoughts of despair Nagrod lets out a subsonic scream of utter pain and despair. minutes pass with no response, but Nagrod still keeps his head high and waits for that answring call. it comes, but with undertones of caution and a request for assistance.  the associated undertones to the message leave Nagrod almost destroyed. His person lying there infront of him, body twisted at odd angles, but still breathing barely, bleeding from more than one deep wound and unconscious. Himself not in a much better state. the hopelessness seeming to engulf his entire being.

a rock shifts. out of the corner of his eye Nagrod can see someone trying to find access to them. someone knows they are here. but the question still hangs: are they the assassins makign sure their target is no longer a member of the living world? or are they the rescuers?  or is it the dhurkat and her person if she has one?

--------------------------------------------

The bombarding of the Edge had begun a few days ago, and now it had reached the city of Kinara, the most eastern city of the Edge. It could have been called a port, but it wasn’t; it was a hidden city, surrounded by mountains on all sides save for the east where it touched the ocean. Nobody had ever been able to reach Kinara; it was too secluded and well guarded by nature and by man, but now this tradition had been broken by the ‘Corrupt’ as the Company was now known. They had come in the middle of the night, over the western mountains; nobody had expected them to cover the distance or tolerate the savageness of the high passes and the high death toll those mountains incurred upon travellers. Thus the destruction of one of the scientific bases of the Edge had begun.

Rather than help, some of the civilians turned out to be the “hidden sleepers” as they were known in the days of Old Earth; people taken from a country and brainwashed into being unconscious spies by their enemies, then placed back in the society of that country, especially within the higher research laboratories and scientific fields. The Sleepers, acting without understanding, made a dash for the ocean – there were thousands of them. At the beach they changed direction as one, moving now as if searching. Their hidden equipment in the holding caves beneath the beach was found and brought up and then they geared up to raid Kinara from the east. Some of the general city populace followed them at first, but upon learning of the deceit and evil intentions of the Sleepers panicked, and ran back into the city and in to the line of bombardment. Some committed suicide while others joined the Sleepers yet some tried to put up a resistance towards the sleepers. Few succeeded.

Crap! What has happened to me? Momentus thought, sitting in the pilot seat of a massive machine – a M.A.C (mobile attack craft). At 19 years old, and of mixed bloodlines, Momentus was a short boy, with dark messy hair and dark eyes rimmed by spectacles. What am I doing? Looking about him, he could see the controls and the screens showing him the city. Standing on the beach, his M.A.C. was facing Kinara, the beam rifle aimed at the mass of civilians running away from him and into the flaming city.  In one swift reflex he opened the entry hatch of the M.A.C. and jumped the 7 meters to the ground, dashing to the nearest group of civilians he could see; making sure it looked like he was coming from the city and not the M.A.C.

At first he couldn’t see what was happening but as he got closer Momentus realised that the group was made up of 5 boys, 4 big hulking idiots, who went to the same school as him and one small boy – the brains of the group. They were dragging a girl with them out of the city and on to the beach in an effort to escape by boat. Hearing footsteps, they stopped and crowded together. When they turned around and saw a boyish figure approach, however, their confidence swiftly returned.

It was as if he was never there, the speed with which he moved; only angels or demons could have even come close to it. He might have even beat light in a flat out race, or so thought the gang – they had all attacked at once, but unexpectedly they were the ones on the floor, staring up at the boy with not a scratch on him as he stood in the middle of the circle of downed toughs. He hadn’t even hit them hard – all he had done was make sure he took their balance and let them fall. Even as he did it, Momentus wondered where and when he had learnt how to do such a thing. Once he was done he ignored them and asked the girl if she would come with him. All they could do was glare at him defiantly, cowardly fear and certain defeat stilling their limbs. The short boy yelled in the negative and prepared for impact, a body slam or some kind of hit, but it never came. For a few moments there was an awkward silence, as the realisation that they were defeated utterly settled over them. They did the only thing they could – they bargained, agreeing to let the girl go if he would get them to the beach safely. Momentus agreed instantly; even he had realised they needed to move. There was a flash of anger on the face of the girl – she had just been sold to this young man, now what was he going to do with her?  The question echoed loud and uncertain in her mind.

They made their winding way to the beach, dodging the only two shells that came their way purely by chance. Soon they were at the beach and Momentus turned to them. Fearing another attack, the members of the group flinched before realising that this was as far as he would take them, this was where they parted ways. If only they could keep the girl and get rid of him! No matter how hard they had tried to think around it on their way down the beach, they couldn’t – he was just too fast for them. They suggested coming with him, to watch his back, but after a bit of speculation as to their characters and thinking of his M.A.C. Momentus declined their offer and told them he had space only for one other person and that that person had to be light. They shoved the girl towards him angrily, and ran after the silhouette of a boat. 

The girl stumbled and fell into his arms. Momentus caught her deftly, but didn’t notice how scared she was; he had too many things to think about, the most important being to think up an escape route which involved also saving ‘his’ M.A.C.  Making sure no one was following them, he took the girl by the wrist and started running towards the M.A.C. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her face twisted in pain, so he released his grip on her wrist and insisted that she run ahead of him instead. 

Why is he doing this? What does he want me for? Why me? How do I run away from here? Thoughts ran in circles around the girl’s mind, distracting her. She paid little heed to where she was running and more than once Momentus had to keep her from falling and being hit by a stray mortar. It didn’t take them long to reach the M.A.C., but it had seemed like eternity. Once they got there, Momentus helped the girl up into the cockpit and together they squished into the pilot seat. Switching on the systems, he instantly received a multitude of messages; some from the people who claimed to be his bosses and ordering him to shoot the civilians and scientists and 3 from other people who seemed to have broken through their brain-washing and had a plan and a next step in mind to rescue their beloved city. Only one message caught his eye from those three – it was from his sworn brother! He had gotten onto a transport space carrier and was waiting for him a kilometre from the beach deep in the sea! Momentus replied immediately, swiftly closing the exit hatch of his cockpit and stirring the M.A.C. into motion.

The trip to the space carrier was uneventful – the girl didn’t speak much, but the slightest tremble of fear worked its way through her body and Momentus could feel it. He understood – they could be walking into a trap, but it was a risk he was willing to take. After all, the person on the other end was his sworn brother.

The space carrier wasn’t very large, it wasn’t meant to transport M.A.C.s as they could traverse space on their own; with the advent of zero-radiation nuclear engines capable of operating for five hundred years at maximum combat power, the dream of solo space travel had been achieved, and it’s first application was as the driving force behind the M.A.C. As they were climbing on to the lifts to go up from the hangars to the bridge of the space carrier Momentus asked the girl the question he had been meaning to ask for the last three years; “Will you marry me?”

Once, she had been disgusted by him – the way he looked, the person he was, the people he hung out with, everything he did. To her, they were fundamental enemies. But even then he had risked his life to save hers, not just this time but countless times previously as well, as she had ended up finding out once the incidents were over and he wasn’t around to thank. But this one question, such a question, at such a time, it was too much; she broke down and dropped to her knees crying harder than she had done ever before. Startled, Momentus approached her. Seeing her hurt so much, in such utter grief and despair was painful – he wanted to comfort her so he moved closer to kneel beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder. She tried to resist it at first but he didn’t budge. When she finally looked up, he looked her in the eye.

“You are free to do whatever you want. I will not force you to do something you don’t wish to; if you want to leave I will not stop you once we reach a safe haven.” He whispered, hand gentle on her shoulder. Deep down, she recognized his sincerity.

“Yes.” She replied quietly.

Momentus smiled. Caught in his gaze, she marvelled that such a thing would look so natural on his face. She smiled back.

The lift stopped with a sudden jerk and the door opened. The moment broke as they were greeted by a blast of joyful laughter as Momentus’ sworn brother and his two fellows welcomed them onto their ‘ship’.

Muzamorous, his sworn brother, had stumbled into his life a few years ago while they were still at school. Momentus was the ultimate epitome of geek. He had always suffered the brunt of bullying from the entirety of the school pupils. Even the nerds shunned for being too geeky. One such day when he was being beaten to a pulp as usual, Muzamorous stepped in and rescued him from the slaughter. Grateful for Muzamorous’ kindness, Momentus promised to help him with anything. So, he followed Muzamorous around for a week before they struck a deal: to watch each other’s backs.

The ship was by no means large, but from the inside it just seemed enormous and spacious; that was probably due to the fact that all the passenger’s rooms had been removed to fit in the troop carriers. Piloting a space carrier such as this one was child’s play as the controls were simple and easy to remember. Momentus was jarred from his silent appreciation of the ship by a sudden rocking impact – a missile impact, he judged from the muffled ‘boom’. Belatedly, he realised that their stationary carrier must have garnered some suspicion from the others surrounding it who were still attacking Kinara. Everything went black.

When he woke, the first thing Momentus was aware of was the pain in his eyes. Squinting, his eyes gradually adjusted until he could see the stark whiteness of the room he was in. His itching wrists were chafed from the restraints binding him to a flat metal table. There was no sign of Muzamorous or the girl.

"hexapuma and treecat credit goes to david weber
everythign else is mine, this is just a section of a larger passage i wrote inspired by david weber’s Honor Harrington series"

The Edge of Sanity

i watched the golden disc start to sink into the black waves of the dark waters. the sight brought back no memories or any sort of calmness it just filled me with a sense of utter desprair and frustration.

“come back, i am not done yet!” i yelled at the drowning sun.

yet another day has gone by and i have yet to begin taking my life seriously. the thought crashes into my brain at 300 mph in the wrong direction and i fall to my knees with the impact. it has been 7186 days and i have yet to figure out a way of living.

“shut up you fool, what can you achieve in this world you are but one” a voice calls out to me

no knowing where it is coming from i scream out, ‘and what makes you so certain?’

“because we are one, us and you, you and us, everyone of us” i hear them chant.

discombobulated, i try to look at my reflection in the dirty waters lapping at my feet, but all i see is a hall full of people staring back at me , waiting for me to begin the evening waltz and i realise the truth.

i king of kings, key to the turning of time, soldier of nature, holy man of the present, am looking at all those people and all those people are me. so i question myself: which one is the real me?