rubah
10-11-2009, 09:31 PM
Let me tell you a story about a town that got rained on.
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I was in the basement of a school building when I realized how much it had been raining. I knew the school was about to get flooded up, and everyone in there would be stuck like 3rd class Irish on the Titanic. I made my way through the throngs to a place where there was a door to the outside, but I didn't make it out with the first wave of departees. Soon though, they were back inside, believing it safer in here than out there. Did I mention the door could only open from the outside? Anyways, when they streamed back in, I took this chance to escape into the bright cold world shortly before the water washed into the room I had left. I heard the sounds of fists pounding on the door, but I squashed my misgivings and fled the scene, afraid that the water inside that building would prove too deep to unleash on the countryside.
As I walked on, I realized the extent of the flooding. I made my way uptown, warning everyone to stay out of downtown, and they smiled ridiculously, naïvely. There were so many cars parked on what high ground there was. I could have ran over them, slid on them even.
There was a tall wall, almost something out of a fortress, and I felt the need to hide, not be seen, so I began to climb my way up it, barehanded. The walls were made of strange rubber which almost gave way as I clawed it, but managed to support me all the way to the top. To get down the otherside, there were handholds that deposited me on the top of a ten foot statue, and I crawled down that and fell the few feet to the ground.
Here, the atmosphere was convivial and moreover rich. These people had no qualms about the school basement full of drowning kids, if they even knew about it. I walked far enough to grow disgusted, returned to the wall, climbed back over and set off for the next town.
When I got to the road and saw the water flowing onto it with a steady 5" waterfall, I realized the folly; that town wasn't on nearly so high ground. (At this point, it really seemed as though we would become an island nation soon). I ran into a kindred soul, a professor that told me about the telepaths that were waiting inside the wall I had climbed. I had noticed them through the windows; all you could see of them were little blue and red stems bobbing around. He said if I could enlist one of them to help me, that would be quite all right.
I nodded and made my way back to the wall, once again clawing my way up the rubber. At the top, I slipped into one of the windows and picked up one of the blue stems. There was no reaction, despite how hard I shook it, so I set it down sheepishly, realizing I was red at heart. The moment I had a red telepath in my hand, my legs and posterior had turned into a bit of a rocket torpedo, and I was able to propel myself with my mind. (The body of the rocket was red, of course.) I set off for the far end of the lavish courtyard enclosed by the wall.
Of course, not everyone likes those who team up with telepaths. And they especially don't like those who are trying to escape Floodville, USA. I didn't really realize how much trouble I was in until I came to an enclosure with tall pane glass windows, chandeliers inside, and a chap with a laser pointer, looking for the tell-tale red of the telepath.
It didn't take long to realize being targetted by his laser wasn't good for my long-term health, but I discovered that a sheer lace curtain was sufficient to throw off any tracking, so I rocketed through the rooms, enveloped in drapey black and white shielding.
I was having trouble staying completely covered by the time I reached the final room, which was the anteroom for that in which the village's big wig was residing. There was a remarkable indoor river and pump system, with natural rocks and mosses, and two lackeys. One of which fled immediately to tell master I had come, the other I bullied into staying with me. I rearranged my cover and flew into the open area where the man himself awaited.
He was seated in the lotus position on a mat on the floor, taking tea. He reminded me of Bill (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0266697/). As I glided around the ceiling, he laughed and said I wasn't very trusting, and I smiled and agreed that was so. He said he wouldn't mind employing me in his organization, but I reaffirmed my decision to leave the area. He told me there was a woman who had orders to find my identifying marks and take me down. I replied that was fine; he could even tell her about this drape, this meeting. He laughed and smiled serenely, and bid me good luck.
Just then, the lackey I had bullied returned, asking to accompany me. I was surprised, but assented readily. I couldn't manœuver quite as readily nor fly as high with a lackey on my back, but it would be one more thing to throw off the guards.
Back outside, there were some gardens and many more socialites enjoying the fine dismal air. There was a fence decked with crèpe that we clung near to, and at every turn, the fashions changed colors. I took this to be a trap, and refused to change the color of my rocket. (My lackey was able to be targeted as something blue). The most vivid garden was a pink gothic lolita one. Unhappy looking young women milled about in lace and frills and skulls, while cherry blossoms drifted in the air currents.
Bill was there, and I think he was talking to the young lady tracking me, when he looked right towards me and smiled. But a few more rotations of my mind-propellors, and I and the lackey were safe out of her range.
That is not to say we were entirely safe yet, but as we flew over the moors, a new lightheartedness overtook us, and we chatted and talked and got to know one another. He was happy for the chance for change and to leave the town, and had a bit of an adventurelust. He was very curious about the telepath, and I felt that if he had one, he would have sufficient mental capacity to do something great with it.
After some length, we came to the walls of the town, many leagues out. They were unmanned, the priests that had lived there were long gone. As we slipped through the eaves, the lackey asked to be let down. He had somehow found a blue telepath, and was joining with it.
I watched as he grew a blimp and started to float high. I was ready for a rest by this point, and the lackey consented, so I allowed my human form to return to me, and I relaxed on top of his [blue] airbag. I noticed there were some strange symbols on the side, and I tried to make them out, but they were in a foreign language.
The countryside we had travelled over was very hilly, but cleared for grazing. There was a range of mountains to the east as we headed north, filled with evergreens. The wall was built on the edge of a cliff, and the flooding had filled the basin full. We turned east and came to another giant wall, perhaps ten stories of red brick, with strange concentric rings of circles built into it ever so often. I mused that perhaps this was an old nation's missile defense system, and joked that they must have been afraid of aliens, the way the circles seemed to be able to point at the sky.
There was a refinery there as well, probably intended to power the rig. As we drew near, it became clear that the system was still active, and in addition had roused itself to defend against us. I regained my rocketbody to help my friend be able to move more easily, and as we tried to go through the refinery area, I realized his blimp would catch fire from the oil flames. We split up then; he to ride high above the range of the missiles, and me to duck underneath them. We agreed to meet up in the next valley.
After I was free of the missiles, I looked about me and noticed this area had encountered a lot of flooding as well. There were unnatural waterfalls everywhere, and each river and stream was swollen past its boundaries.
There were no people, though. The entire place seemed deserted. At long last, I espied a few souls drudging away in a terrace field. They wore strange things on their heads, almost like a circle with a pin through it. The field was enclosed by chainlink. I flew on.
There were more fields, all surrounded by chainlink, and never more than a handful of men working, each with a strange hat. I came to a field that had a structure over it for lighting, and lit upon it. I got the attention of one of the workers and asked about their jobs.
He told me the story of their civilization and how they had been conquered by alien warriors who kept them at drudgery, imprisoned in the chainlink and the mesh. I looked up and realized it was true; I had flown inside a mesh tent without having noticed. I would have to repass the entire length of fields to escape it, not a good plan in an emergency.
The aliens forced them to worship their sungods, and the hats were a physical obeisance paid to Sol.
I was intrigued with the situation and had made up my mind to see what I could do to help when an alarm sounded. The aliens had spotted me and were closing in to check on this strange rocket person. I quickly regained my legs and the ground, hiding around a corner.
One of the other workers came up to me, and offered to implant a chip into my hand that would render me indistinguishable from the other humans. I didn't really say yes, but he began to insert it into my palm when I shouted, slapped away his hand and the apparatus, scratched the chip out and gymnasticksed around a control shed, to ascertain my position.
It was bad. The aliens had gathered en force, and I could see their lasers ready to pin me down. I quailed for a brief instant, and went back to apologize to the man, and ask him to finish the implantation.
I knew that I could not be able to shapechange with this chip in me, and I feared that perhaps I would begin to forget I even had the ability to do that or remove the chip if it remained in my hand very long, but I had no choice.
Perhaps I would remember. Perhaps my friend the lackey would come to my aid.
Perhaps I would live with the alien slaves forever.
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<div style ="padding: 5%; text-align:justify; line-spacing: 1.75em;">
I was in the basement of a school building when I realized how much it had been raining. I knew the school was about to get flooded up, and everyone in there would be stuck like 3rd class Irish on the Titanic. I made my way through the throngs to a place where there was a door to the outside, but I didn't make it out with the first wave of departees. Soon though, they were back inside, believing it safer in here than out there. Did I mention the door could only open from the outside? Anyways, when they streamed back in, I took this chance to escape into the bright cold world shortly before the water washed into the room I had left. I heard the sounds of fists pounding on the door, but I squashed my misgivings and fled the scene, afraid that the water inside that building would prove too deep to unleash on the countryside.
As I walked on, I realized the extent of the flooding. I made my way uptown, warning everyone to stay out of downtown, and they smiled ridiculously, naïvely. There were so many cars parked on what high ground there was. I could have ran over them, slid on them even.
There was a tall wall, almost something out of a fortress, and I felt the need to hide, not be seen, so I began to climb my way up it, barehanded. The walls were made of strange rubber which almost gave way as I clawed it, but managed to support me all the way to the top. To get down the otherside, there were handholds that deposited me on the top of a ten foot statue, and I crawled down that and fell the few feet to the ground.
Here, the atmosphere was convivial and moreover rich. These people had no qualms about the school basement full of drowning kids, if they even knew about it. I walked far enough to grow disgusted, returned to the wall, climbed back over and set off for the next town.
When I got to the road and saw the water flowing onto it with a steady 5" waterfall, I realized the folly; that town wasn't on nearly so high ground. (At this point, it really seemed as though we would become an island nation soon). I ran into a kindred soul, a professor that told me about the telepaths that were waiting inside the wall I had climbed. I had noticed them through the windows; all you could see of them were little blue and red stems bobbing around. He said if I could enlist one of them to help me, that would be quite all right.
I nodded and made my way back to the wall, once again clawing my way up the rubber. At the top, I slipped into one of the windows and picked up one of the blue stems. There was no reaction, despite how hard I shook it, so I set it down sheepishly, realizing I was red at heart. The moment I had a red telepath in my hand, my legs and posterior had turned into a bit of a rocket torpedo, and I was able to propel myself with my mind. (The body of the rocket was red, of course.) I set off for the far end of the lavish courtyard enclosed by the wall.
Of course, not everyone likes those who team up with telepaths. And they especially don't like those who are trying to escape Floodville, USA. I didn't really realize how much trouble I was in until I came to an enclosure with tall pane glass windows, chandeliers inside, and a chap with a laser pointer, looking for the tell-tale red of the telepath.
It didn't take long to realize being targetted by his laser wasn't good for my long-term health, but I discovered that a sheer lace curtain was sufficient to throw off any tracking, so I rocketed through the rooms, enveloped in drapey black and white shielding.
I was having trouble staying completely covered by the time I reached the final room, which was the anteroom for that in which the village's big wig was residing. There was a remarkable indoor river and pump system, with natural rocks and mosses, and two lackeys. One of which fled immediately to tell master I had come, the other I bullied into staying with me. I rearranged my cover and flew into the open area where the man himself awaited.
He was seated in the lotus position on a mat on the floor, taking tea. He reminded me of Bill (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0266697/). As I glided around the ceiling, he laughed and said I wasn't very trusting, and I smiled and agreed that was so. He said he wouldn't mind employing me in his organization, but I reaffirmed my decision to leave the area. He told me there was a woman who had orders to find my identifying marks and take me down. I replied that was fine; he could even tell her about this drape, this meeting. He laughed and smiled serenely, and bid me good luck.
Just then, the lackey I had bullied returned, asking to accompany me. I was surprised, but assented readily. I couldn't manœuver quite as readily nor fly as high with a lackey on my back, but it would be one more thing to throw off the guards.
Back outside, there were some gardens and many more socialites enjoying the fine dismal air. There was a fence decked with crèpe that we clung near to, and at every turn, the fashions changed colors. I took this to be a trap, and refused to change the color of my rocket. (My lackey was able to be targeted as something blue). The most vivid garden was a pink gothic lolita one. Unhappy looking young women milled about in lace and frills and skulls, while cherry blossoms drifted in the air currents.
Bill was there, and I think he was talking to the young lady tracking me, when he looked right towards me and smiled. But a few more rotations of my mind-propellors, and I and the lackey were safe out of her range.
That is not to say we were entirely safe yet, but as we flew over the moors, a new lightheartedness overtook us, and we chatted and talked and got to know one another. He was happy for the chance for change and to leave the town, and had a bit of an adventurelust. He was very curious about the telepath, and I felt that if he had one, he would have sufficient mental capacity to do something great with it.
After some length, we came to the walls of the town, many leagues out. They were unmanned, the priests that had lived there were long gone. As we slipped through the eaves, the lackey asked to be let down. He had somehow found a blue telepath, and was joining with it.
I watched as he grew a blimp and started to float high. I was ready for a rest by this point, and the lackey consented, so I allowed my human form to return to me, and I relaxed on top of his [blue] airbag. I noticed there were some strange symbols on the side, and I tried to make them out, but they were in a foreign language.
The countryside we had travelled over was very hilly, but cleared for grazing. There was a range of mountains to the east as we headed north, filled with evergreens. The wall was built on the edge of a cliff, and the flooding had filled the basin full. We turned east and came to another giant wall, perhaps ten stories of red brick, with strange concentric rings of circles built into it ever so often. I mused that perhaps this was an old nation's missile defense system, and joked that they must have been afraid of aliens, the way the circles seemed to be able to point at the sky.
There was a refinery there as well, probably intended to power the rig. As we drew near, it became clear that the system was still active, and in addition had roused itself to defend against us. I regained my rocketbody to help my friend be able to move more easily, and as we tried to go through the refinery area, I realized his blimp would catch fire from the oil flames. We split up then; he to ride high above the range of the missiles, and me to duck underneath them. We agreed to meet up in the next valley.
After I was free of the missiles, I looked about me and noticed this area had encountered a lot of flooding as well. There were unnatural waterfalls everywhere, and each river and stream was swollen past its boundaries.
There were no people, though. The entire place seemed deserted. At long last, I espied a few souls drudging away in a terrace field. They wore strange things on their heads, almost like a circle with a pin through it. The field was enclosed by chainlink. I flew on.
There were more fields, all surrounded by chainlink, and never more than a handful of men working, each with a strange hat. I came to a field that had a structure over it for lighting, and lit upon it. I got the attention of one of the workers and asked about their jobs.
He told me the story of their civilization and how they had been conquered by alien warriors who kept them at drudgery, imprisoned in the chainlink and the mesh. I looked up and realized it was true; I had flown inside a mesh tent without having noticed. I would have to repass the entire length of fields to escape it, not a good plan in an emergency.
The aliens forced them to worship their sungods, and the hats were a physical obeisance paid to Sol.
I was intrigued with the situation and had made up my mind to see what I could do to help when an alarm sounded. The aliens had spotted me and were closing in to check on this strange rocket person. I quickly regained my legs and the ground, hiding around a corner.
One of the other workers came up to me, and offered to implant a chip into my hand that would render me indistinguishable from the other humans. I didn't really say yes, but he began to insert it into my palm when I shouted, slapped away his hand and the apparatus, scratched the chip out and gymnasticksed around a control shed, to ascertain my position.
It was bad. The aliens had gathered en force, and I could see their lasers ready to pin me down. I quailed for a brief instant, and went back to apologize to the man, and ask him to finish the implantation.
I knew that I could not be able to shapechange with this chip in me, and I feared that perhaps I would begin to forget I even had the ability to do that or remove the chip if it remained in my hand very long, but I had no choice.
Perhaps I would remember. Perhaps my friend the lackey would come to my aid.
Perhaps I would live with the alien slaves forever.
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