Monday, May 25, 2015

A Rough Prologue For 'Mel's Delivery Service'

Dark, violent tones filled Jagr's ears, a cacophony of layered vibrations helping to drown out his other senses. He liked to close his eyes while he listened; it helped him feel like he was far away, floating on an ocean of sound, instead of being in the middle of another boring-ass watch rotation. He imagined himself roiling in the waves, the transcendent beats tearing him apart and putting him back together, like he was made of doll parts.

Apart.
Together.
Apart.
Together.
Apart.
Toge-

"JAGR!"

He clutched the back of his head, suddenly realizing he'd been hit upside it. He flicked the music off, looking over to Raid, his fellow Watcherman, and easily the more responsible of the two.

"What?! Jesus..." Jagr complained, rubbing the back of his head as he got to his feet.

"We got a Runner," he said, nodding out into the darkness. Jagr sighed, blinking into NV and staring out into the night beyond the wall.

"Where?" he said, only seeing the same broken cityscape as most nights. He was slightly disappointed, actually; runners were one of the more exciting things the Watchers got to see.

"There," Raid said, pointing to the southeast. "Just went under that overpass."

Jagr zoomed in on the overpass, and finally spotted it as the lights of the runner pierced through the darkness. It became a lot easier to see once it cleared the overpass, not least of all because the vehicle was partially on fire.

"Oh, shit," Jagr muttered as the runner swerved along the road, small arms flashing in the darkness.

"They're comin' in hot," said Raid, already moving for the Nest. Feeling a small surge of excitement, Jagr followed, practically hopping down the ladder and looking to a tarp-covered protrusion. He pulled off the covering, revealing the repeating slugger beneath.

"Load up," Raid ordered, and Jagr complied, his heart pounding as the reality of the situation dawned on him. A Runner was headed for their gate. A Runner that was on fire. A Runner being chased by Syns.

He kicked open the ammo box at the base of the slugger, grabbing one end of the bullet chain and slapping it into the feeder. He spared a glance out towards the Runner, expecting to see a horde of machines in pursuit, but there was no metal army, no swarm of synthetic platforms. There was just one machine. One giant, six-legged machine, bigger than the Runner itself, and apparently just as fast.

"Fuckin' hell," Jagr muttered breathlessly, unable to take his eyes off the monstrosity. "Are you seeing this?"

"Shut up and cock your fucking gun!" Raid chastised. Jagr grabbed the heavy bolt on the side of the slugger, pulling it back with some difficulty and letting it slam forward, chambering the first round. He and Raid took aim, waiting for the Runner to get in range.

"Go for the legs," Raid said. It made sense to Jagr; it'd be easier to destroy if it wasn't scurrying along like some giant-ass metal ant from Hell.

The Runner cleared the first perimeter, and the Watchers opened up, adding their fire to the Runner's mounted slugger. If the Syn ant cared, it didn't show it, still scurrying after the Runner, clambering right over the first perimeter, only slowed a moment by the giant chain barrier.

The Runner made a beeline for the gate, which was already opening. As the Syn moved closer to the city, other Nests along the wall joined in, focusing fire at the machine's legs. It advanced menacingly for another moment, at which point it's right foreleg crumpled, the joint destroyed by the slugger fire. It stumbled a bit, trying to get closer before another of its legs broke off.

Jagr couldn't remember the last time a Syn got this close to the Wall. He certainly had never seen one this big, either, that realization reinforced by the proximity. He couldn't imagine what it had been like when these things were everywhere. They liked to tell you growing up that the Endwar could have been avoided. With shit like this walking around, Jagr couldn't imagine how.

The third leg finally put the beast down, its sluggers firing uselessly into the road. He was surprised to see the thing still had ammo. The Runner must have gone off the mapped roads to cut time, a common tactic with a common outcome. He'd never seen anything this big woken up, though. Where the fuck had that Runner been?

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Thing I Wanted to Happen Happened and It's Blowing My Damned Mind

Sometimes you go through things that make you feel stuff you don't want to feel. It happens to everyone. Usually, it's not your fault. It wasn't mine, anyway.

After years and years, I locked the feelings away, in this beastly cage I made in my own psyche. This allowed me to function.

But not to live.

Monsters were not put into me. This darkness that I hated so much wasn't foreign, it was just the part of me that was hurt. And I locked it away, never intending to let it out. I didn't like what it did.

But I need it. It's me. It's my life that I locked in there, that spark that burns amidst the nothing, that creates in a vacuum. It's my potential.

Some time ago, I convinced myself to reintegrate it, to let it out. I didn't know what that would look like. I didn't know how it would feel.

I do now.

I'm frightened. I'm devastated. I'm angry. I'm whole. I'm free.

Or I'm getting there, at least. This was it. This was the thing I needed, what I've been searching for, left behind where I'd already been.