PlaneShift
Fan Area => Roleplaying (Communitive Storywriting) => Single Author Stories => Topic started by: Monketh on March 01, 2004, 12:36:44 am
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Evening at the mansion
Sci-fi/fantasy cross-over
A short possible backstory with hints of what happened to Monketh before the amnesia.
...Not particularly well-written, but tolerable at least.
It is amazing what can be purchased if you have enough wealth.
This is what Monketh thought as he played his grande-keymitophone (a keyed instrument with strings/threads aka piano). For once, he had the lounge all to himself. All the rangers and servants were either on assignment, or had been given the day off. Complete silence. Well, other than the keymitophone. The azure sun dimmed slowly, and a breeze came off the lake. Music, comfort, holiday, silence. It was going to be a wonderful evening.
His enjoyment of a quiet nightfall was to be interrupted, however.
He knew that upon hearing the creak of the upper patio door.
His fingers quit their motion, the keymitophone silenced.
\"Monketh.\" she said.
\"That is my name. What brings you to my house?\"
He looked to the door. There, stood a woman, cloaked in brown, her face concealed by a jet black scarf.
\"I wish to apply for your organization.\"
\"You could have knocked. But I see you felt up to the climb. Tell me, why is it you wish to join?\"
\"The life of a ranger is the life of me, it is the way that I am.\"
\"Oh, you certainly seem to travel lightly for one who walks in the wilderness.\" he questioned her with a slight grin.
\"My... proffession, requires speed. Other matters are unimportant.\"
\"Besides,\" she joked, \"it helps me maintain my most lady-like form.\"
\"Well, if you are looking for targets, you will find no employment here.\"
\"How rude of you, to make such daring assumptions like that.\"
\"Then what is your proffession?\"
\"None, in particular.\"
\"Surely you have one skill that is greater than your others.\"
A knife grazed Monketh\'s ear, and landed three-quarters of an inch from the bulls-eye on the dartboard far behind him. He took a second to observe it\'s position, then resumed his gaze at the woman.
\"So it is swift combat, in general?\" he asked.
\"It is so.\"
\"I might have some work for you. But please, there is no use standing there, take a seat.\"
She hesitated a short time, then sat herself on a stool at the mini-bar.
Something wasn\'t right about her, and Monketh knew it. Something was off.
\"However, Miss, before you can work for my organization, I must know your identity. The scarf, if you please.\"
Again, she hesitated.
\"My identity is unimportant.\"
\"Uh-huh, suuure. Now off with the scarf.\"
\"As you wish.\"
She removed the scarf, then pulled back the hood of her cloak. Bewilderment followed.
\"Your eyes, your hair...\"
What Monk observed was the strangest thing he had yet seen in his life since the day. Her eyes glimmered with the hue of a yellow gold, and her hair: was a glossy, very light, blue. Of course, this was clearly impossible, to change the color of one\'s hair in yliakum, even for a month or two, cost a great fortune. To change the color of one\'s eyes just could not be done, no matter what the expense.
With amusement, she said \"You know me well, Mike.\"
\"Mike, hm, that sounds strangely familiar. But I am sorry, I have no clue who you are.\"
\"Heh heh, I guess the operation was a success, of course, the doctors aren\'t exactly idiots in their field.\"
\"What operation?...\"
\"A very important one. But still, I thought you would recognize your wife.\"
\"Wh-what?\"
\"Your wife, me.\"
\"Okaayy... Look lady, I\'ve had others claim they have my love, but none have made a boast so bold as this!\"
\"\'Tis not a boast, not that you would know better now.\"
Monketh went silent for a while.
\"You know, I was worried when I got wind of your assignment here. I was even more worried when I heard about your starship\'s crash. But I see you have done well for yourself.\"
She glanced at the keymitophone.
\"You even have a grand-piano...\"
\"You mean the grande-keymitophone?\"
\"What a silly names you have here.\"
\"It doesn\'t sound silly to me...\"
\"Well of course not, you have lived here too long.\"
\"I had ever lived anywhere else?\" he mused.
\"Yes, you did. Colony 0546.\"
\"You are silly, not our naming system. Since when are tunnel-colonies numbered?\"
\"Since when was I speaking of tunnels?\"
Monketh was about to give her a confused look, but was cut off. An incredibly monotonous voice spoke.
\"Miss Keene, you have an urgent message from Sector Command.\"
\"Very well. Hal, one to beam aboard.\"
\"I must now bid adieu. Farewell.\" she bowed low.
Then, she faded away. A large conglomeration of white metal appeared outside behind the mansion. The sound of whirring machinery was in the air.
The Hal, or machine abruptly stated \"Good luck Sargeant Keene, sir.\"
A blast of wind hit Monketh, and the Hal, or starship, whatever it was called, shot into the heavens.
Lynx came up the stairs.
He questioned Monketh: \"What in the underworld was that?\"
\"I don\'t think I\'ll ever know, or at least I\'ll never comprehend.\"
Monketh sighed.
\"Do you think I\'ll ever see her again?\"
\"See who?\"
\"Nevermind...\"
(note to self:need to stop watching anime, stargate, lotr movies, star wars, sci-fi channel :P)
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*Monketh continues his slightly odd story*
In a torrent of winds, the shuttle rocketted up to the sky. If one could call the space between the floor and ceiling of this giant cave a sky, that is. When it came to reach a point where collision was extremely certain, Hal made an announcement.
\"Matter-Phase Drive is activating now.\"
Silent, the shuttle flew upwards through the rock as if it were the air it had just shot through.
\"Estimated time of arrival at the surface is fifteen minutes, Commander.\"
The woman smiled, Keene was still so gullible. He fell for her tricks the same way he did at the academy so long ago.
\"I if weren\'t for my own ears I wouldn\'t believe you went along with that Hal.\"
\"You are always accusing me of lacking a sense of humor, I intended to prove you wrong.\"
\"I\'m always accusing you, am I?\"
\"You have accused me of lacking humor on approximately two-hundred and ninety-seven ocassions to date. Would you like me to display them?\"
\"Not really...\" she failed to hide her look of slight annoyance.
\"I rest my case.\"
Alana stared forward at the shuttle\'s viewscreen. Layer of rock after layer of rock descended downwards into the abyss.
\"Shall I alert the crew of your return?\"
\"Wait awhile. It\'s still going to take several hours to get back.\"
\"Actually Commander, your ship is in geostationary orbit.\"
Presently the last of the rock plumetted, and a sea of grass followed with it.
She glanced suspiciously at Hal\'s camera.
\"...I thought I told them to hold their location when I left...\"
\"Captain Kurt overrode that order and brought them here...\"
The sea of grass shrank until it merely existed as a puddle.
\"They didn\'t even turn on adaptive camouflage!\"
\"Well you aren\'t exactly setting the best example.\"
\"Hmph...\"
It\'s white armor plating starkly contrasting against the inky blackness of space, a Command Carrier floated silently above the planet.
A voice came on the shuttle\'s com-channel.
\"Hail and be greeted, thine majestic ladyhood.\"
The voice continued \"...Just kidding Commander, docking crews are standing by.\"
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Originally posted by The Gumster
Originally said by Monketh
Hal.
*coughspaceoddysseycough*
^ (Deleted post, I\'m very tired of his spam.)
That\'s the voice, look, and attitude I want associated with that computer. Got a problem with that? :rolleyes:
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interasting story monketh tad stragne and hard to follow at points but when its finished it should be great..glad your taking time to give us all a background on your char... :P
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Absolutely fantastic Monk, you\'re a talented writer.
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Fantastic style you have here, Monketh. :) I really enjoyed reading it. Please write more!
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I\'ve written some more during school today, look for it later.
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Originally posted by Monketh
Evening at the mansion
Sci-fi/fantasy cross-over
A short possible backstory with hints of what happened to Monketh before the amnesia.
...Not particularly well-written, but tolerable at least.
what amnesia?
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Originally posted by The Gumster
Originally posted by Monketh
Evening at the mansion
Sci-fi/fantasy cross-over
A short possible backstory with hints of what happened to Monketh before the amnesia.
...Not particularly well-written, but tolerable at least.
what amnesia?
My character, Monketh, woke up in an alleyway of a town called Edeena ~9 months ago. (Read: I\'ve been here a while...)
Where did he come from and why is he there? That\'s what this story is for.
...I\'m in a lazy mood right now and it\'s getting late. So I may just use my writing as a plot for my attempted manga.
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Ok, this is taken a little out of context.
The carrier has already left orbit and is on it\'s way to the system\'s base/headquarters. ...and it\'s already on it\'s way back.
Keep in mind these were written as scenes, not a story specifically.
Ship Life
\"Course reversal complete. Estimated time of arrival is two days.\" Hal stated.
\"Excellent. Place Captain Kurt in charge for the remainder of the trip.\" Alana would be going back to that scenic mansion, if only for a while.
\"Confirmed.\"
Alana looked over to her ever faithful assistant.
\"Jenkins, I have a few errands that need doing.\"
\"...and they are?\"
Jenkins received the checklist with a hint of \"Oh no...\" in his complexion. He read it aloud.
\"Do laundry. Not too hard.
Pack wardrobe. Easy.
Pack rations. No problem.
File twenty-four page report on sub-space distortions in this sector. That\'ll take awhile.
Buy replacement holo-projector. Okay.\"
\"I\'ll try, commander.\" he said.
Alana did an about face and left the bridge. Jenkins hurried off to get working on this list and finish it before his two days were up. A sudden sound alerted everyone on the bridge. A target appeared on the HUD, courtesy of the Nav Computer.
Hal makes an announcement pertaining to it.
\"Sensors detect a small object heading for Vodul.\"
Captain Kurt took note, but responded: \"It\'s probably just a stray auto-shuttle, disregard it.\"
\"Aye.\"
-End Scene-
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The Mourning
A man bent over to his knees in the forest, at the end of a muddy dirt path. Rain could yet be smelt in the air. This place was lonely, this was a place a man could grieve in solitude. A span of about two and one-half meters by three or four so was more than enough for a chapel, or shrine. The man had pulled a cart with him, in it was a piece of stone hewed into the shape of figure that was suspended in air, its arms outstretched; and a single stone plate, square, with etchings on it.
Monketh slowly snaked his rapier out of its sheath. Crying, he set it on the ground in front of him. He yelled cursed, stabbing it into the dirt. This sword was gift, an expensive one, in fact, it was the most extravagant piece of equipment he had ever owned. The wizard Grakrim was a fine man to give it to him. But this did not matter, another sword could easily be made, something, perhaps, a little more agressive. For now, his most trustworthy object, guardian of his life, seemed appropriate and perhaps a bit lacking for this memorial.
Both self-pity and doubt had filled him since he placed on the ring, assured by that light-hearted commanding officer that it was his to do with as he wished. He remembered her now, and who she really was, not just who she joked to be. He remembered many things, but all were overshadowed by the black cloud of guilt. Raw, seething guilt.
She said he would be meeting with a psychiatrist soon, he knew he needed that. Praying for the Lord\'s forgiveness, in what little way he knew how, was failing to stop him day by day from losing grip on his mind.
He slowly stepped over to the cart now, and, pushing back a blanket, retrieved the stone objects he had stowed there. He turned, wondering if the figure might be too heavy for his sword. Fortunately, his trusty guardian affirmed his faith by holding securely when he weighted it. He placed the square rock with care at the foot of the familiar, yet somehow foreign, symbol. Weeds were signs of lacking respect, so he busied himself \'round his holy ground, digging and tearing, twisting and placing. This place must be graceful, even if only he himself would see it.
This did not take long, and when he backed up to see it, Monketh created the beginnings of a smile. He would not allow much happiness, however, but he was satisfied, and so turned his back and pulled his cart back, more than a mile, through the woods.
\"I really ought to clean this path...\"
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Excellent Monketh, keep it up. Looking forward to more :D
One questions though: Do you have the story already planned out in your mind or are you make it up as you go along? Or is it a combination of the two, with a general plot in mind but indefinite details which can be changed, added, removed, etc?
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Originally posted by karakth
Excellent Monketh, keep it up. Looking forward to more :D
One questions though: Do you have the story already planned out in your mind or are you make it up as you go along? Or is it a combination of the two, with a general plot in mind but indefinite details which can be changed, added, removed, etc?
I am a day-dreamer Karakth, thusly I run these pieces--scenes if you will,-- through my mind until I feel I like the result. I then may or may not write it down, and naturally, some details change.
Edit: \"right\" -> \"write\", I can\'t believe I made such a flagrant violation of the english language! :rolleyes:
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Ah. Sounds pretty cool. Different to my style, but cool nonetheless 8)
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The Postal Delivery
Obvious improvement must have been made in the Transportation Administration\'s Shipping procedures while he\'d been away. It took only a matter of days (compared to weeks that it used to take) for his machine to show. When questioned on the changes to TA, both the Commander and the Captain vaguely responded: \"Heads rolled, a commision was formed.\" A plain box, unmarked except for the labeling \"EF-TA SHIPMENT VA-004591\", heralded its arrival. The only action necessary to open it was a quick tap with an \'opener\', a pen-shaped device that broadcasts a code when activated. With Activ-Grav switched off in the hangar, the sides of the box slowly floated apart. A small group of the crew, including some officers and bridge staff, watched the unveiling. The famed NKI-02 Unit dissappointed them, footage of it in action had been much more exciting than the Mobile Armour laying tied down to the floor. But it was clearly much more massive than their standard issue armours, not to mention how its dark washed red and black set it apart from their machines. The large shoulder-armour/manuevering-thrusters and large torso separated it as well. It quietly held a well made mass-driver in it\'s left hand, opposite the bystanders. Meanwhile, The Sargeant opened up another box containing the main thrusters, to be mounted on the back of the unit. Deployment to a cultist uprising on Reijus III would be in a week. More than enough time to run a systems check and fix the busted parts.
Falling
You know, there\'s nothing like work to get somethin\' off the brain. But then again, maybe the shrink was helping too...
There is certainly no time to think during a \'Kill or Be Killed\' situation. Only enough time exists for a reaction, a single, momentary flash of movement within which chain of causes and effects is immpossible to create. No machine, even if it indeed is wired into the very nuerons of the brain, can compensate for that. Shame, guilt, joy: these emotions do not exist.
The white entry pod continued to plummet through the planet\'s atmosphere, most likely appearing as a meteor to onlookers below. It\'s flower bulb-like shape was often a joking topic among soldiers. Now, the shape went into action, easing the descent. After a short while, the computer opened out the pod\'s five \'sides\', further slowing the rapid dive through the sky. In the cockpit, Keene did a quick systems check, verified booster functioning, and started unlatching procedures to remove his machine from the craft; it would be a target soon...
Edit: As always comments & criticisms are welcome. But then again, I might be posting too much Sci-Fi on a fantasy forum. :P
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The Honorable Admirable King
The Admirable Honored Great King Rechov twitched. Although he knew that any form of military action would attract the attention and most likely retaliation of the Earth Forces, he did not expect such an overwhelming deployment of troops. Some came by dropship, some by those fancy white descent pods, but they all had one clear goal in mind, the elimination of the Followers of the True God Dreikus. Dreikus had decreed through Rechov that his followers must rule this world in his name. It was only an unfortunate annoyance that much of the population disagreed, the infidels! They would be made to believe easily enough once the planet was under holy control. But, fortunately, Loyal Followers controlled nearly all military production and material.
As he paced nervously back and forth outside the Grand High Masters\' Office, the Lieutenant wondered how Dreikus could make his prophet pull this off. The Followers were losing ground all over the map. A standard military strategist would prepare for the worst and begin evacuation of civilian and non-military personnel. But that wouldn\'t be necessary, after all they had won every battle in the past. Rechov could pull them through again.
The Honorable Leader burst triumphantly from the double doors of the office, assured his cowardly lieutenant, and advanced down the hall to issue his address to all of Reijus III.
It was heard in the halls, heard in the streets, broadcast aloud in the fighting machines so far away yet so close, and it was repeated in the mind of its creator. Apparently, they must prove their loyalty and be willing to die for the cause before Dreikus would grant them salvation. Then only the Truly Holy would live to see another day.
Round-Up
Most Cult Leaders are well protected, and, of course, this one happened to be so too. Or, rather, he would have been he had not been standing on his bunker instead of in his bunker. Arms reaching skyward, one might think he was yelling, screaming, \"Come kill me infidels!\". Numerous other officers and crew fired small pistol and rifle rounds at the mech\', making little nicks and scratches on the paint. Several well-placed warning rounds scattered the rational ones, however. A shuttle came down on the roof of the bunker and a small Spec-Ops team dragged off the leader into a holding cell. Larger ships would arrive later to pick-up the rest. In the meantime, the Vodul sector\'s carrier landed in a valley nearby, so the mech\'s pilot decided he would hitch a ride into space. A few thousand or so troops would stay behind on the planet to ensure a similar incident did not happen again. Pacifists are all well and good, of course, but they tend to get trampled on by passing dictators. The NKI Unit was far away in the jungle riding another skybound carrier. Its performance had been impressive, though it might be in need of a new pair of legs.