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    About AlphaxAngel

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    About AlphaxAngel
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    I'm a dude. I smoke. That's about it.
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    Well... Um... Games... And smoking.
    Line Guy - Madison Air Center
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    01-17-2012 03:43 AM
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    Planet Seventeen

    by AlphaxAngel on 01-20-2012 at 02:30 AM

    Nicholai..." A soft voice melded with the background of the kitchen, over sized by the perception of an infant.
    "Nicholai..." This was his name. Who was calling him? Suddenly he thought, suddenly he existed. Now his sole purpose was to discover the one calling him. The voice, the tone, the timber... He knew it. His mother. His mother was the one calling to him. Muscles on his face moved, shaped, morphed themselves collectively to form a smile. He was fond of his mother, he loved her. What child didn't? This new form of ability allowed him to move, to walk, to turn in order to face a hallway where the sound originated. There was the shadowed face of his mother, hidden by forces unknown to him.
    "Nicholai..." His mouth was dry and staled with the taste of sand, his eyes burning of salt. The sound of heavy breathing pervaded his sense, it was him. It was his own lungs gasping for air.

    Nicholai's eyes opened only to stare down at a moving wall of sand. Immediately he was concerned for his own safety, worried about the sudden disorientated amnesia that faced him. He was being dragged unconsciously. The muscles of his neck screamed for reprieve, but he must look to face the world before him, to know. City blocks lay before him, buildings worn with decades of decaying sand. They were taking him through a ghost town. Who were they? Ignoring the second barrage of messages from his nervous system, he looked to his left to face a large man, heavy built, face covered by a bone mask. The rebels. Memories came back to him slowly. He was now an outcast, meant only to face a short, empty life. Why were they taking him here? Casting as many glances around as he could manage, he noticed one thing, or, one lack of thing: life. The small group of five armed men, not including him, were the only visible inhabitants of this large desert city. Where was everyone?

    Feeling came to his ankles suddenly, they were turning. Gaze turned once before him, he noticed they had begun heading towards a small home. Why this one? Five minutes of consciousness and he was already riddled by the complexities he now faced in life. The leading soldier, presumably an officer, dusted off the sand-caked pad to the left of the doorway to reveal a home interface, still gleaming in the sunlight. Pressing his palm to it, a wall of clay fell to the ground in a cloud of puff to reveal a siding door, now open. The group continued onward, carrying their unwilling prisoner inside. There was a damp, pungent smell to the building, only detectable by those who spent large amounts of time out in the dry, desert air. It was the smell of humidity. Nicholai assumed that the building had kept in the water that had evaporated, due to the fact that almost all of the dwellings on this planet were airtight. Oxygen and water were fed in and recycled through a series of underground pipes, smarter than relying on the harsh atmosphere outside.

    A soldier on corner duty spoke up quickly, mentioning something about 'them'. Niko turned just enough to see him out of the corner of his eye, catching the movement of the holographic scanner in his hand. An opaque, green-tinted replica of the city floated in mid air, covered in a small portion by red blobs. Niko had seen these portable interfaces before, even used and repaired them, this much he could remember. One fact in particular stuck out in his recollection: red almost always meant bad. Before he could gather more information, screaming sounds of engines rang throughout the home. An aircraft of some kind was outside, and close. Several of the soldiers began speaking at once, and all of them brought their weapons of choice to bear. The leader began giving hand motions to his squads, followed by commands. The group politely ended their jabbering to listen, then did exactly as they were ordered, even the part about dropping Niko, who fell to his knees only to realize he wasn't bound as he had first assumed.

    As he shifted his weight in order to run, the door began to creep open. One soldier of a lower rank pointed out the obvious.
    "They're here!" Just as the first shot was fired, Niko was on his way to the second room. Scrambling to find a weapon of some sort, he vaguely noted the stove to his left. A kitchen, kitchens meant knives. Quickly coming to the conclusion that they'd be stored, he systematically began ripping drawers from their grottoes, but the dying sounds of the gunfight only a door away meant that he'd run out of time. He turned to face a soldier in the doorway, rifle at the ready. Quickly putting his hands up, Niko did his best to look out of place, which wasn't too difficult.
    "I'm not with them, they took me! They beat me!" In his current state, he looked ragged enough for the story to be true. The soldier stepped toward him, still not entirely sure.
    "Are you injured?"
    "Yes, yes! I need medical attention!" It was working well so far. Niko dared to step towards the soldier, lowering his hands. The man didn't seem to notice.
    "You don't look too beat up, I'll need your help. My friend is hurt back there." The soldier turned for just a moment to gesture towards the other room, but it was enough time for him. With a quick step, he had on had under the shoulder of the soldier, pushing him off balance while the other was retrieving the knife on the shoulder-pad of his armor. Within a second, it had been done, but the soldier was fast. By the time Niko managed to get the knife at the ready, the soldier was coming at him.

    Niko side-stepped a blow from the butt of the soldier's rifle, only to make a failed lunge at the man's exposed jugular. The knife glanced off of the hardened armor, and his wrist was caught in the man's grasp. Had to give up the knife already. He put his foot between the two of them, pushing off as hard as he could manage with one foot. It sent the soldier tumbling into the other room with the knife, just enough time for one move. Turning to survey his options, the first glance caught a gamble: the last kitchen drawer. Rushing to it, he jerked it open to reveal a full stock of knives. Jackpot. They weren't combat knives, of course, but they would kill all the same. Niko grabbed two at first instinct, both sharp and non-serrated. He faced the door only to experience a bit of deja-vu, the soldier was coming back for more. Niko was on him before he could act, however, reversed blade in his right hand, and the second blade for blocking. The man had given Niko more time earlier, for he had searched and found his ill-used combat knife, and was using it as a deterrent for close-range combat. As Niko neared, the man swiped at him, just grazing his left bicep. Niko punished him for it, though, as he drove the first knife into the left side of the soldier's neck, then the second knife entered under the protection of the armor and the ribcage, puncturing a lung.

    After several moments of stillness, as if they were locked in an embrace, the soldier crumpled into a heap, blood leaking slowly onto the floor. Niko went over his weapons, deciding it would be better to take the combat knife and leave the others. It would be hard to carry a trooper's rifle inconspicuously. Niko took a long stare at the still-glowing eyes of the soldier's armor, feeling the rush of adrenaline slip away. Before he began to feel remorseful, he turned and exited the kitchen. Now for the second trooper. Niko wasted no time searching the house for him, he had, without a doubt, attempted to escape the city on foot after seeing his comrade attacked. He guessed that the rebels that had brought him here hadn't survived the initial firefight, and that just made his life a little easier. One last sigh left Niko following a set of footprints, made large by the scout's boots. It wouldn't be difficult to track him down, and maybe he could get to civilization by doing so. He gave one last look at the city, behind him now, before he slid the knife into his boot and carried onward.

    Updated 01-20-2012 at 02:33 AM by AlphaxAngel

    non-lucid , memorable

    Laden with Lucidity [EP.2]

    by AlphaxAngel on 01-17-2012 at 04:04 AM

    EP. 1

    "A Raid to Remember"
    As I step through the door, a white light blinds me. In the confusion I discover several things I hadn't known before. One: I was holding something metallic in both hands. Two: There were loud sounds all around me. Three: Men were shouting, both in front of and behind me. My vision clears; I'm staring down a white barrel at a blurry figure ahead. I open fire, though I don't know at what. Before I have time to think, the firefight is over, and a young soldier is forcing me onward.

    The light comes to me again, though now I stand in a large room without windows. I've no way of knowing, but it feels as if I'm underground. A hand rests on my shoulder, but I'm looking away. I hear the voice of a man, and turn to face the Dark Knight himself. He continues to speak to me slowly, but I pay no mind to him. I notice I'm unarmed now, and ponder the implications of this. The Bat shakes me, yelling now, but my attention is drawn to the Flash rushing past, down a tunnel to God knows where. I feel I must follow, but my companion urges me in another direction; I grudgingly follow.

    I find myself nearing the end of our journey now. I turn once more to find my companion, but his identity has changed. No other than Bruce Wayne was standing beside me. I speak for the first time, asking, "It gets old losing your stuff every time that happens, doesn't it?". Bruce nods in reply, then states, "Yeah. It doesn't help having to put on that armor over and over, either." I share his pain for a moment, then we press towards our goal. As we close in on an armored door near the end of a hallway, a loud snap comes from my back. I jerk in shock to find the source, but I'm faced with only a dark wall and two white pillows.

    EP. 2

    "A Night on the Ocean Blue"
    As the cold water rocks the frigate to and fro, I can feel the mist of the ocean breeze dance across my face. A deck hand shouts in alarm ,"We'll never lose him this way!", and I scan the darkened waves for the pursuer. The man who was after our very lives was once a brother among us. This much I remembered. The very why as to our current situation eluded me at the moment, though. No worries; I'd have plenty of time to ponder the implications of his betrayal after we no longer feared for our safety. My train of thought is shattered as our rear port side was rammed again by the pursuing vessel.

    His ship was submerged under the wake by some strange mechanism. Being the smaller of the two craft, his was the faster as well. This was a huge advantage in the current situation, where we had no means of retaliation against him. How had I ended up in such a situation? My mind wandered to the events that began this awkward chase. While these memories were illusive, I remember a battle taking place at port. Somewhere in the chaos, our forsworn ally had turned against us. Using the fog of war to gain the upper hand in a fight that was all but won. Now we were running, and he was in pursuit. The sharp cracking of wet wood and the sudden seizure of the ship signed that he had already injured our chances of escape.

    My eyes searched the horizon for some sign of safety. All I needed was one hope of reprieve. My search brought a large water spout to my attention. It would be perfect. I jut my hand forward, shouting to the man at the wheel, "There! Sail straight for the spout!" His eyes lit ablaze with fear. Surely he thought me mad. Despite his initial fears, his hands followed the command. Leading the bow directly towards what he knew would be our end, our speed picked up. As we were drawn into the twister, I begin to doubt the validity of my plan. Our pursuer had taken the bait, though, and I could see his vessel leaving the water below us. Within a matter of moments, our weight had exceeded the strength of the storm. We fell back into the water, almost on our starboard side. I give the order to ready the guns, looks of bewilderment gaze upon me. The hands follow the command, and the pursuing craft is decimated by cannon fire immediately after landing.

    EP. 3 [Coming Soon]

    Updated 02-03-2012 at 06:52 PM by AlphaxAngel (Added Episode 2)