Post by Deadborder on Apr 16, 2006 23:28:22 GMT -5
(This is a teaser if you like for a fic I may or may not ever write. Enjoy and feel free to comment. Or not. See if I care)
(Its set in something akin to Battle Sotry Genesis, if that makes any sesne.)
(Vaugely akin)
*****
"In the old times, there was a race of beings that dwelled in the sky. These beings were so powerful, that they were considered to be men made gods. They were known as the Sky Gods."
The old Shaman peered into the flames in the center of his hut. "The Sky Gods were possessed of many marvels, and could do wondrous things. But their greatest creation was the Gildragon, a creature of immense power. Gildragon was created to protect the world and watch over it, ensuring that it would be forever safe from harm."
"But, in their arrogance, the Sky Gods made a terrible mistake. In creating Gildragon, they accidentally awoke his father, Gilvader, form his eternal slumber." He indicated to a pair of shaped panted on a leather hide, both of near identical winged creatures. One of them was white, blue and gold, the other black, red and purple. "Gilvader was a terrible creature of earth and fire, one that lived solely for destruction. When he awoke, Gilvader saw the new world around him and proceeded to lay waste to it as he had done to the old one before."
"Gilvader's rampage could not be stopped; no power on the planet could prevent him from burning it into ash. No power, that is, save for Gildragon. The Sky Gods sent Gildragon to fight is father. The two of them clashed in an epic battle that would determine the fate of the world."
"And what happened then?" The anthropologist asked, looking up from his notebook.
"Some say that Gildragon won, and sent Gilvader plummeting to the depths of the earth from which he had came. But, as a final defiant act, Gilvader threw himself into the world, and caused the Great Cataclysm that made this world of today." The shaman sighed. "Other say that Gilvader triumphed, and reigned down fire on the world, wiping it clean until we began anew."
"So what do you believe happened?" The Anthropologist spoke up, entranced.
"I believe that it'll cost you another twenty moneys for me to finish." The shaman finished with a wry grin.
*****
A shape flitted through the darkened woods, its form silent and elusive despite its considerable bulk. The machine simply seemed to melt into the shadows between the trees, passing like some form of ghost or spirit more then a gigantic metal animal.
Inside the cockpit of the graceful beast, the pilot watched the lands around her. Despite the deepness and the darkness that surrounded her, she knew this place intimately; knew every rock, every tree. This place was he true home, one that she had been forcibly taken from so many years ago.
It was a place she would return to soon, oh so soon...
*****
It was a quiet and peaceful day in the village. The sun was shining down on the men and women toiling n the fields, harvesting the crops so that they would have plenty to eat in the long, cold winter to come. Men and women went around their daily business in the village proper, talking while trading or cooking or taking part in their normal, mundane lives. Small children ran in amongst them, laughing and happily playing in the sunshine.
It couldn't last.
A pair of long shadows fell over the village as a pair of Zoids approached. The two Command Wolf LCs towered over most everything else in the village, giving theism an air of invincibility that their pilots clearly reveled in. Their desert-tan paint was chipped and battered, and both machines showed considerable wear. Yet, at the same time, they were both clearly more powerful then anything in the village.
"All right you primitive screwheads, listen up!" The pilot of one of the Command Wolves began. "You've got two choices here. You can either hand us over all your food and any valuables you have, or we can burn this pathetic little mudhole to the ground."
"And he means it too." The other pilot added. "You don't want to mess with us. We will do it!"
An old man stepped forwards, looking up at the two Zoids. "Go away now!" he shouted, waving his walking stick at one of the Zoids. "We don't want your kind here! Go away or you will be sorry!"
"Hey, old man!" One of the pilots called out. "Shut up and go away! Nobody tells us what to do!"
"Yeah, you're giving us sass!" The second added.
"We oughta crush you for that!"
"Yeah! Crush him! That'll teach him to give you sass!"
"I mean it!" The old man called out. "Go away if you value your lives!"
"Ooh, now the old fart's threatening us!" The pilot called out. "I'm scared! I'm so very scared! What are you gonna do old man? You gonna get caught in my Zoid's foot? Gonna gum up the works? Or are you gonna beat my Zoid with your stick? Huh?"
"Yeah! Whatcha gonna do, pops?" The second continued.
"You'll be sorry!" The man said as he turned and walked off. "You'll wish you had left!"
"Not so tough, are you?" He began. "Yeah, old man, I'm talking to you! You're all talk, aren't ya? You act big, but you're just another scared little peasant!"
While the Wolf pilot had been so intent on calling out the man, he hadn't noticed another two heading into the large barn in the center of the town. This was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life... which turned out to only be a few seconds anyway.
There was a thunderous roar as a pair of cannons discharged, followed by a loud explosion as a pair of shells slammed straight into the Command Wolf's cockpit, instantly killing the pilot and disabling the machine. The Command Wolf tottered, then keeled over, crashing to the ground on its side.
"What the?" The second pilot called out, then turned to the source of the attack. Standing in the middle of the town, just outside what should have been their main barn, was a dull green Cannonfort, the two cannons on its back turret smoking. On the side of the turret was the insignia of the Big Town Defenders, the most powerful military force in the region.
"Yes!" One of the Cannonfort's pilots called out. "Right between the eyes."
"Ayup." The other one slowly replied. "Nice shootin' there, Jeb."
"So what now sarge?"
"We blast the other one, Jeb." Sarge slowly repined. "Ayup, looks like that's the plan."
The two back cannons, as well as the twin horn cannons fired, the shots blasting into the sides of the Command Wolf, tearing apart the armour over its shoulder. The Zoid staggered back, then collapsed as its damaged leg snapped off the body. As soon as the Zoid had hit the ground, the canopy opened. The pilot stood up, his hands in the air.
"Don't shoot! I surrender, really! I'm sorry about that whole sass thing, really!"
"Looks like our job here's done, Jeb." Sarge drawled as he watched the angry old man walk towards the Wolf's pilot. He was a young man, clad in tattered leathers. The old man shouted something at him, then clipped him over the head with his walking stick. "Ayup...wait a minute."
"What is it, Sarge?"
"Looks like we got ourselves another Zoid coming." Sarge replied. "Ayup. Definitely another one. Big one too."
"Well then let's go to it, Sarge!" Jeb called out, the Cannonfort's turret traversing to face the newcomer. "As soon as I see him, I should blast him to pieces! yeah!"
"Sounds like a good idea to me, Jeb. Ayup." Sarge drawled, then checked his sensors again. "Hold up, you might wanna wait there a minute, Jeb. Not sure if this one's hostile or not."
The pair of them, as well as the people of the village who weren't poking the Wolf pilot with sticks, turned to face the newcomer. It was a Koenig Wolf, a larger relative of the two Zoids that were sprawled across the village's square. Unlike the other two Wolves however, this one looked to be in far better condition then the other two. It was a brilliant blue colour, its paint clean from any damage or wear save for the dirt around its feet. It also sported a silver trim around the cockpit that served to highlight its eyes and futures; one line passed across one eye in imitation of a scar. The Zoid's structure as well as its weapons were flat black, while the gyrocaps were a light orange-tan colour.
The Zoid's cockpit opened, the universal symbol of a pilot who wished to parlay or, at least, was an idiot. The pilot stood, her long, midnight-black hair flowing out behind her in contrast to her delicate, pale white features. Her form was slender, yet spoke of a hidden inner strength that went beyond just physical appearance. Her face was soft, with features that would belong on a goddess, save for the single scar that marred her milky-white skin and crossed one of her her brilliant golden eyes that shone with an inner intensity. The female pilot was dressed in a form-fitting crimson shirt as well as a thick black cloak that covered most of her form. However, a pair of Katanas were visible by her side.
"Greetings, people of Muckwaller." She began. "I am Mirar Kurokami, the famous freedom fighter. I have come here today to free you from your oppression!"
"Who in the heck is that, Sarge?" Jeb began.
"I have no idea." Sarge eventually replied.
"Well, we've already dealt with those young whippersnappers in the Wolves!" The old man snapped. "So you can just push off!" This elicited a few cheers from the gathered crowd, as well as a nod from the imperiled Command Wolf pilot.
"I speak not of these base marauders that plague your lands, but of the greater threat." Mirar continued. "I have come to free your village form the iron grip of Big Town and its tyrannical ruler, the evil king Freddie Cromarte."
"Well why would we want that?" The old man snapped. "We like Freddie." This elected another round of cheers from the crowd, and some more whimpering.
"But can't you see how he's enslaved you?" She began. "See how you toil endlessly in the field,s instead of being free to feast on natures bounty."
"Well, it means that we have enough food so that we don't all starve to death in the winter." Somebody else spoke up.
"And that we don't get mauled by wild dingoes while scavenging for fungus!" Another villager added.
"I was attacked by a feral turnip once!" A third added. "I like the fields, they're safe!"
But can't you see how his troops grind you under their iron heels?" She asked, indicating to the Cannonfort.
"That Zoid's saved us from attacks several times." A villager spoke up. "Until Freddie assigned it to protect us, we were constantly being raided by outlaws and marauders with Zoids and stuff!"
"And by mutant gerwalk bikers!" Another added.
"And feral turnips!"
"But don't you see how he is destroying your traditional lives?" She pleaded.
"Freddie Cromarte gave us an education!"
"He gave us plumbing!"
"He gave us security against the turnips!"
"Freddie Cromarte is the greatest man who ever lived!" Another villager called out.
"He's given us peace, security, agriculture, a reliable food supply, sanitation and education." The old man finished.
"And safety from turnips!"
"Why would we want to be free from him?"
"Because..." Mirar paused, as if she wasn't expecting this. "Because, um... He's... oppressing you? He's... destroying your traditional lifestyle?"
"Maybe you should think this over." The old man finished. "And come back later."
"Yeah." Mirar nodded. "Um, sure. Thanks." She sat down and closed the cockpit of her Zoid. The machine turned around and wandered off, its pilot clearly confused as to what was going on.
"Well that was strange." Somebody spoke up.
"Kids these days." The old man muttered. "They're all either running off in Zoids to conquer the world or to save it without stopping to think about the good things like plumbing and loo paper." He sighed.
(Its set in something akin to Battle Sotry Genesis, if that makes any sesne.)
(Vaugely akin)
*****
"In the old times, there was a race of beings that dwelled in the sky. These beings were so powerful, that they were considered to be men made gods. They were known as the Sky Gods."
The old Shaman peered into the flames in the center of his hut. "The Sky Gods were possessed of many marvels, and could do wondrous things. But their greatest creation was the Gildragon, a creature of immense power. Gildragon was created to protect the world and watch over it, ensuring that it would be forever safe from harm."
"But, in their arrogance, the Sky Gods made a terrible mistake. In creating Gildragon, they accidentally awoke his father, Gilvader, form his eternal slumber." He indicated to a pair of shaped panted on a leather hide, both of near identical winged creatures. One of them was white, blue and gold, the other black, red and purple. "Gilvader was a terrible creature of earth and fire, one that lived solely for destruction. When he awoke, Gilvader saw the new world around him and proceeded to lay waste to it as he had done to the old one before."
"Gilvader's rampage could not be stopped; no power on the planet could prevent him from burning it into ash. No power, that is, save for Gildragon. The Sky Gods sent Gildragon to fight is father. The two of them clashed in an epic battle that would determine the fate of the world."
"And what happened then?" The anthropologist asked, looking up from his notebook.
"Some say that Gildragon won, and sent Gilvader plummeting to the depths of the earth from which he had came. But, as a final defiant act, Gilvader threw himself into the world, and caused the Great Cataclysm that made this world of today." The shaman sighed. "Other say that Gilvader triumphed, and reigned down fire on the world, wiping it clean until we began anew."
"So what do you believe happened?" The Anthropologist spoke up, entranced.
"I believe that it'll cost you another twenty moneys for me to finish." The shaman finished with a wry grin.
*****
A shape flitted through the darkened woods, its form silent and elusive despite its considerable bulk. The machine simply seemed to melt into the shadows between the trees, passing like some form of ghost or spirit more then a gigantic metal animal.
Inside the cockpit of the graceful beast, the pilot watched the lands around her. Despite the deepness and the darkness that surrounded her, she knew this place intimately; knew every rock, every tree. This place was he true home, one that she had been forcibly taken from so many years ago.
It was a place she would return to soon, oh so soon...
*****
It was a quiet and peaceful day in the village. The sun was shining down on the men and women toiling n the fields, harvesting the crops so that they would have plenty to eat in the long, cold winter to come. Men and women went around their daily business in the village proper, talking while trading or cooking or taking part in their normal, mundane lives. Small children ran in amongst them, laughing and happily playing in the sunshine.
It couldn't last.
A pair of long shadows fell over the village as a pair of Zoids approached. The two Command Wolf LCs towered over most everything else in the village, giving theism an air of invincibility that their pilots clearly reveled in. Their desert-tan paint was chipped and battered, and both machines showed considerable wear. Yet, at the same time, they were both clearly more powerful then anything in the village.
"All right you primitive screwheads, listen up!" The pilot of one of the Command Wolves began. "You've got two choices here. You can either hand us over all your food and any valuables you have, or we can burn this pathetic little mudhole to the ground."
"And he means it too." The other pilot added. "You don't want to mess with us. We will do it!"
An old man stepped forwards, looking up at the two Zoids. "Go away now!" he shouted, waving his walking stick at one of the Zoids. "We don't want your kind here! Go away or you will be sorry!"
"Hey, old man!" One of the pilots called out. "Shut up and go away! Nobody tells us what to do!"
"Yeah, you're giving us sass!" The second added.
"We oughta crush you for that!"
"Yeah! Crush him! That'll teach him to give you sass!"
"I mean it!" The old man called out. "Go away if you value your lives!"
"Ooh, now the old fart's threatening us!" The pilot called out. "I'm scared! I'm so very scared! What are you gonna do old man? You gonna get caught in my Zoid's foot? Gonna gum up the works? Or are you gonna beat my Zoid with your stick? Huh?"
"Yeah! Whatcha gonna do, pops?" The second continued.
"You'll be sorry!" The man said as he turned and walked off. "You'll wish you had left!"
"Not so tough, are you?" He began. "Yeah, old man, I'm talking to you! You're all talk, aren't ya? You act big, but you're just another scared little peasant!"
While the Wolf pilot had been so intent on calling out the man, he hadn't noticed another two heading into the large barn in the center of the town. This was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life... which turned out to only be a few seconds anyway.
There was a thunderous roar as a pair of cannons discharged, followed by a loud explosion as a pair of shells slammed straight into the Command Wolf's cockpit, instantly killing the pilot and disabling the machine. The Command Wolf tottered, then keeled over, crashing to the ground on its side.
"What the?" The second pilot called out, then turned to the source of the attack. Standing in the middle of the town, just outside what should have been their main barn, was a dull green Cannonfort, the two cannons on its back turret smoking. On the side of the turret was the insignia of the Big Town Defenders, the most powerful military force in the region.
"Yes!" One of the Cannonfort's pilots called out. "Right between the eyes."
"Ayup." The other one slowly replied. "Nice shootin' there, Jeb."
"So what now sarge?"
"We blast the other one, Jeb." Sarge slowly repined. "Ayup, looks like that's the plan."
The two back cannons, as well as the twin horn cannons fired, the shots blasting into the sides of the Command Wolf, tearing apart the armour over its shoulder. The Zoid staggered back, then collapsed as its damaged leg snapped off the body. As soon as the Zoid had hit the ground, the canopy opened. The pilot stood up, his hands in the air.
"Don't shoot! I surrender, really! I'm sorry about that whole sass thing, really!"
"Looks like our job here's done, Jeb." Sarge drawled as he watched the angry old man walk towards the Wolf's pilot. He was a young man, clad in tattered leathers. The old man shouted something at him, then clipped him over the head with his walking stick. "Ayup...wait a minute."
"What is it, Sarge?"
"Looks like we got ourselves another Zoid coming." Sarge replied. "Ayup. Definitely another one. Big one too."
"Well then let's go to it, Sarge!" Jeb called out, the Cannonfort's turret traversing to face the newcomer. "As soon as I see him, I should blast him to pieces! yeah!"
"Sounds like a good idea to me, Jeb. Ayup." Sarge drawled, then checked his sensors again. "Hold up, you might wanna wait there a minute, Jeb. Not sure if this one's hostile or not."
The pair of them, as well as the people of the village who weren't poking the Wolf pilot with sticks, turned to face the newcomer. It was a Koenig Wolf, a larger relative of the two Zoids that were sprawled across the village's square. Unlike the other two Wolves however, this one looked to be in far better condition then the other two. It was a brilliant blue colour, its paint clean from any damage or wear save for the dirt around its feet. It also sported a silver trim around the cockpit that served to highlight its eyes and futures; one line passed across one eye in imitation of a scar. The Zoid's structure as well as its weapons were flat black, while the gyrocaps were a light orange-tan colour.
The Zoid's cockpit opened, the universal symbol of a pilot who wished to parlay or, at least, was an idiot. The pilot stood, her long, midnight-black hair flowing out behind her in contrast to her delicate, pale white features. Her form was slender, yet spoke of a hidden inner strength that went beyond just physical appearance. Her face was soft, with features that would belong on a goddess, save for the single scar that marred her milky-white skin and crossed one of her her brilliant golden eyes that shone with an inner intensity. The female pilot was dressed in a form-fitting crimson shirt as well as a thick black cloak that covered most of her form. However, a pair of Katanas were visible by her side.
"Greetings, people of Muckwaller." She began. "I am Mirar Kurokami, the famous freedom fighter. I have come here today to free you from your oppression!"
"Who in the heck is that, Sarge?" Jeb began.
"I have no idea." Sarge eventually replied.
"Well, we've already dealt with those young whippersnappers in the Wolves!" The old man snapped. "So you can just push off!" This elicited a few cheers from the gathered crowd, as well as a nod from the imperiled Command Wolf pilot.
"I speak not of these base marauders that plague your lands, but of the greater threat." Mirar continued. "I have come to free your village form the iron grip of Big Town and its tyrannical ruler, the evil king Freddie Cromarte."
"Well why would we want that?" The old man snapped. "We like Freddie." This elected another round of cheers from the crowd, and some more whimpering.
"But can't you see how he's enslaved you?" She began. "See how you toil endlessly in the field,s instead of being free to feast on natures bounty."
"Well, it means that we have enough food so that we don't all starve to death in the winter." Somebody else spoke up.
"And that we don't get mauled by wild dingoes while scavenging for fungus!" Another villager added.
"I was attacked by a feral turnip once!" A third added. "I like the fields, they're safe!"
But can't you see how his troops grind you under their iron heels?" She asked, indicating to the Cannonfort.
"That Zoid's saved us from attacks several times." A villager spoke up. "Until Freddie assigned it to protect us, we were constantly being raided by outlaws and marauders with Zoids and stuff!"
"And by mutant gerwalk bikers!" Another added.
"And feral turnips!"
"But don't you see how he is destroying your traditional lives?" She pleaded.
"Freddie Cromarte gave us an education!"
"He gave us plumbing!"
"He gave us security against the turnips!"
"Freddie Cromarte is the greatest man who ever lived!" Another villager called out.
"He's given us peace, security, agriculture, a reliable food supply, sanitation and education." The old man finished.
"And safety from turnips!"
"Why would we want to be free from him?"
"Because..." Mirar paused, as if she wasn't expecting this. "Because, um... He's... oppressing you? He's... destroying your traditional lifestyle?"
"Maybe you should think this over." The old man finished. "And come back later."
"Yeah." Mirar nodded. "Um, sure. Thanks." She sat down and closed the cockpit of her Zoid. The machine turned around and wandered off, its pilot clearly confused as to what was going on.
"Well that was strange." Somebody spoke up.
"Kids these days." The old man muttered. "They're all either running off in Zoids to conquer the world or to save it without stopping to think about the good things like plumbing and loo paper." He sighed.
