Post by oberonfrost on May 1, 2012 0:50:35 GMT -5
Interstate 540S, Arkansas- February 14, 2012
Arthur glared at Mary Pat Emerson. ::You can talk?:: he thought at her, outraged. Emerson’s voice had already joined the chorus of ::Ocean,:: pulsing in his brain once more. ::All this time and you can actually talk!:: Arthur screamed through the telepathic link.
There was a clatter across chamber, as Charlie Ritter-Dyster’s IV stand fell over. The bag of medicine had long since dried up, and Arthur wasn’t sure why the man still held onto the apparatus. ::Don’t be angry, little sea king,:: Charlie’s voice said in Arthur’s head. ::We’re all slaves to our baser nature,:: his voice continued. ::A lesson you’ll learn soon enough no doubt. Down deep. Below the waves.::
::What are you people talking about!:: Arthur cried out through the mindscape.
::Ocean,:: his companions chanted in unison once again. Then another voice broke free of the chorus, this time it was Sylvia Wren’s dulcet teenaged tones, ::Sleep.:: Arthur collapsed backward onto the metal floor of the trailer and was awash in the telepathic sea he shared with the others.
Ciappili, Corsica, Off the Coast of Italy
Charlie stood atop a rocky cliff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. The sky was a clear blue and sea birds circled over head; there was barely a cloud in the sky. Arthur watched from somewhere else as the man approached the edge and kicked a stone over the edge. Charlie’s skin looked craggy, with jagged edges, it was darker here than it was in the Shin’s Fresh Fish truck. The stone fell hundreds of feet to the shatter upon impact with the cerulean sea below.
Charlie kicked another rock from the cliff face, this one a bit larger than one before, about the size of his fist. It bounced down the rocky surface and fell into the sea. ::Wanna get wet.:: Charlie said to no one in particular as he balanced on the very edge of the rock wall high above the churning tides.
::Wanna get them all wet.:: Arthur realized as he watched that Charlie’s skin looked different because it was different, in fact, it wasn’t even skin here. Charlie was made of stone, solid stone just like the cliff where he stood.
Charlie was growing, absorbing the stone from the island around him. ::Tell me sea king,:: he said, and Arthur realized that Charlie was talking to him, ::How big do you think I’ll have to get to take out the whole island of Sardinia there across the channel?::
Arthur’s mind was reeling. He couldn’t fathom was what going on. First Mary Pat Emerson had trapped him in some vision of a terrible storm wiping out the island of Nisida Mikro off the eastern coast of Greece, now Charlie wanted to flood all of Sardinia. It was too much for him to process even as he watched Charlie’s granite body grow taller. Grass, flowers, even fully grown trees grew from Charlie’s surface. ::Wanna yell ‘CANNONBALL’ for me little sea king?:: Charlie asked Arthur as he prepared to leap into the blue water below.
Arthur tried to call out, to yell for him to stop. He couldn’t hear himself over the rumble of Charlie’s still growing earthen body as it prepared to jump. Charlie either ignored him or did not hear his scream and let himself fall over the edge.
The stone giant struck the surface of the ocean so hard it seemed impossible. The resulting sound was like an explosion. The impact displaced millions of gallons of water, sending towering waves across the channel toward the heavily populated island of Sardinia.
Charlie’s body, made from the rock and soil of the island of Corsica had shattered when it hit the water. Somehow though, Charlie’s face carved itself out of the side of the cliff. ::They’ll never know what hit ‘em, eh, sea king?::
Cody, Wyoming- February 14, 2012
Siren growled through clenched teeth as she brought both her blades down upon her sister’s shield. Mera held fast through the blow, and pressed against Siren’s attack, knocking her back a step and taking her momentarily off balance. She could feel the heat of Siren’s boiling blades through her own hard water shield.
As Siren attempted to regain her footing, Mera pressed the advantage, no matter how slight. She charged forward, swinging her own blade in a slash at her sister’s midsection. Siren regained her position quickly, and Mera’s sword crashed against one of Siren’s own blades as she sidestepped the attack.
Garth didn’t know what he was really seeing. This couldn’t be real, could it? He wasn’t even sure what was happening. She’d called him a ‘Surfacetorn’ whatever was. And someone named Orm had ordered her to kill him because he was one. Garth knew he was adopted, but he didn’t know what his biological parents could have been involved in to bring this kind of craziness down on his head nearly two decades after he was born.
Mera and Siren continued their dance of death, matching each other blow for blow. Water-blades crashed together in the rain. Mera’s shield kept the worst of Siren’s assaults at bay, but slowed her enough that she wasn’t gaining the upper hand.
As Garth looked on, paralyzed in fear and confusion, Siren’s Atlantean soldiers emerged from the trees. Their commander had turned them back when they’d heard the sounds of battle. Stealthily they were making their way toward the recent high school graduate laying in the mud.
::I have my hands full with my sister,:: Mera projected her thoughts into Garth’s mind. ::You’ll have to save yourself from them.::
Garth looked over shoulder and saw the Atlantean soldiers marching in his direction. As he looked on the raindrops coming down in front of him swirled together and formed a shotgun made just like Mera’s own swords. Hesitantly, Garth reached out and wrapped a trembling hand around the rifle.
Siren caught Mera’s weapon between her blades and twisted it from her grip. The blade flew away into the mud and lost cohesion. Mera managed to block her sister’s follow up attack with the water-shield, though she was driven to her knees in doing so.
A sound like thunder exploded in the clearing as Garth pulled the trigger on the water-gun Mera had created for him. Pellets of hard water blasted out of the barrel and splashed onto the armor of the soldier closest to him. The blast knocked the Atlantean off his feet and sent him flying backward into his squad mates.
With a thought, Mera leeched water from the shield protecting her from Siren’s attack and formed a new blade in her right hand. Struggling against her opponents assault, kneeling in the mud, Mera slashed out at Siren’s knee. The water-blade cut through the crimson scale armor and bit into Siren’s flesh. A spurt of bright red blood splashed onto Mera’s shield as he sister fell into the mud beside her.
Garth fired again and two more soldiers were knocked from their feet. He stumbled to his feet, slipping more than once in the mud and muck before gaining his footing. He took one more shot at the group, missing this time, before vaulting back into Imp’s saddle.
As Siren let one of her blades evaporate and clutched her knew, Mera made it to her feet. Both her sword and shield disappeared back into the rainstorm that had forged them and she quickly spun and kicked her sister squarely in the jaw. The bent down and turned her sister over, not eager to watch her drown face down in the mud.
The Surfacetorn was getting ready to ride off. Mera knew she couldn’t let him run off on his own. If not Siren, then one of Orm’s bounty hunters would come to take his head. With a thought she reached out and collapsed the magic binding Garth’s rifle together. Another moment was all it took for her to bend the raindrops into a protective bubble around Garth and Imp.
“The Surfacetorn is under my protection, soldier’s of a false king,” Mera said defiantly, standing before them unarmed. “I give you one chance. Take my sister and leave this place.”
Mellach Slave Camp, Atlantis, February 14, 2012
“Three times during this krill harvest you have risked your own safety to help free those you could get to safety,” the dark-skinned man said to the young girl across the table in the empty cafeteria. “We rebels have need of brave souls like you.”
Tula blinked suspiciously. She didn’t know this man. It had taken weeks for her to agree to meet with. He’d begun inquiring after her when she had freed twenty-one slaves during the Noq’dum extermination. For all she knew, he was a spy for Orm. “Rebels are a lotta trouble,” she said flatly. “Might be I can do more good without labels.”
The man nodded. “Perhaps you can,” he was well spoken for a slave. He spoke like an educated man, someone who should be serving in the government or the military, not harvesting krill like the lower-born Atlanteans. “Perhaps someone could make use of your skills, without labeling you. I need someone who can blend in when necessary Tula; I need someone who can go… unnoticed when the situation warrants.”
Tula swam upward off the stone bench, “I don’t know you mister. Don’t even know your name. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“People call me Manta,” he said as he stood. “I hope you’ll join me, Tula. With your help, we can be rid of Orm by the time the Kelp Jungle blooms and all Atlanteans will be free again.”
Cody, Wyoming- February 15, 2012
Though the moon was obscured by the clouds, there was enough light to silhouette Mera impressively against her enemies. The rain continued to pour down, and despite the deluge, she was completely dry. Mud didn’t even stick to her boots.
The Atlantean soldiers considered her offer, mumbling among themselves for a tense moment before turning their full attention back to Mera. The leader amongst them took a step forward. “We will have the Surfacetorn,” he said as he began to raise his weapon.
“No, you won’t,” Mera said confidently. Her eyes turned solid blue and there was a feeling in the air Garth wouldn’t be able to describe any time soon. All at once, as if time stopped, ever raindrop in the sky stopped where it was. Frozen in place, Mera focused her will and hardened each one as dense as steel.
Garth watched helplessly as thousands of raindrops turned into a hail of crystal clear bullets. They rained down on the six Atlantean assassins in waves, slicing through armor and flesh, tearing them ribbons and staining the mud dark red.
The globe protecting Garth dissolved away and Mera leapt onto Imp’s back behind him. “Ride,” she said simply. “South and east. Don’t stop til I say.”
Arthur glared at Mary Pat Emerson. ::You can talk?:: he thought at her, outraged. Emerson’s voice had already joined the chorus of ::Ocean,:: pulsing in his brain once more. ::All this time and you can actually talk!:: Arthur screamed through the telepathic link.
There was a clatter across chamber, as Charlie Ritter-Dyster’s IV stand fell over. The bag of medicine had long since dried up, and Arthur wasn’t sure why the man still held onto the apparatus. ::Don’t be angry, little sea king,:: Charlie’s voice said in Arthur’s head. ::We’re all slaves to our baser nature,:: his voice continued. ::A lesson you’ll learn soon enough no doubt. Down deep. Below the waves.::
::What are you people talking about!:: Arthur cried out through the mindscape.
::Ocean,:: his companions chanted in unison once again. Then another voice broke free of the chorus, this time it was Sylvia Wren’s dulcet teenaged tones, ::Sleep.:: Arthur collapsed backward onto the metal floor of the trailer and was awash in the telepathic sea he shared with the others.
Ciappili, Corsica, Off the Coast of Italy
Charlie stood atop a rocky cliff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. The sky was a clear blue and sea birds circled over head; there was barely a cloud in the sky. Arthur watched from somewhere else as the man approached the edge and kicked a stone over the edge. Charlie’s skin looked craggy, with jagged edges, it was darker here than it was in the Shin’s Fresh Fish truck. The stone fell hundreds of feet to the shatter upon impact with the cerulean sea below.
Charlie kicked another rock from the cliff face, this one a bit larger than one before, about the size of his fist. It bounced down the rocky surface and fell into the sea. ::Wanna get wet.:: Charlie said to no one in particular as he balanced on the very edge of the rock wall high above the churning tides.
::Wanna get them all wet.:: Arthur realized as he watched that Charlie’s skin looked different because it was different, in fact, it wasn’t even skin here. Charlie was made of stone, solid stone just like the cliff where he stood.
Charlie was growing, absorbing the stone from the island around him. ::Tell me sea king,:: he said, and Arthur realized that Charlie was talking to him, ::How big do you think I’ll have to get to take out the whole island of Sardinia there across the channel?::
Arthur’s mind was reeling. He couldn’t fathom was what going on. First Mary Pat Emerson had trapped him in some vision of a terrible storm wiping out the island of Nisida Mikro off the eastern coast of Greece, now Charlie wanted to flood all of Sardinia. It was too much for him to process even as he watched Charlie’s granite body grow taller. Grass, flowers, even fully grown trees grew from Charlie’s surface. ::Wanna yell ‘CANNONBALL’ for me little sea king?:: Charlie asked Arthur as he prepared to leap into the blue water below.
Arthur tried to call out, to yell for him to stop. He couldn’t hear himself over the rumble of Charlie’s still growing earthen body as it prepared to jump. Charlie either ignored him or did not hear his scream and let himself fall over the edge.
The stone giant struck the surface of the ocean so hard it seemed impossible. The resulting sound was like an explosion. The impact displaced millions of gallons of water, sending towering waves across the channel toward the heavily populated island of Sardinia.
Charlie’s body, made from the rock and soil of the island of Corsica had shattered when it hit the water. Somehow though, Charlie’s face carved itself out of the side of the cliff. ::They’ll never know what hit ‘em, eh, sea king?::
Cody, Wyoming- February 14, 2012
Siren growled through clenched teeth as she brought both her blades down upon her sister’s shield. Mera held fast through the blow, and pressed against Siren’s attack, knocking her back a step and taking her momentarily off balance. She could feel the heat of Siren’s boiling blades through her own hard water shield.
As Siren attempted to regain her footing, Mera pressed the advantage, no matter how slight. She charged forward, swinging her own blade in a slash at her sister’s midsection. Siren regained her position quickly, and Mera’s sword crashed against one of Siren’s own blades as she sidestepped the attack.
Garth didn’t know what he was really seeing. This couldn’t be real, could it? He wasn’t even sure what was happening. She’d called him a ‘Surfacetorn’ whatever was. And someone named Orm had ordered her to kill him because he was one. Garth knew he was adopted, but he didn’t know what his biological parents could have been involved in to bring this kind of craziness down on his head nearly two decades after he was born.
Mera and Siren continued their dance of death, matching each other blow for blow. Water-blades crashed together in the rain. Mera’s shield kept the worst of Siren’s assaults at bay, but slowed her enough that she wasn’t gaining the upper hand.
As Garth looked on, paralyzed in fear and confusion, Siren’s Atlantean soldiers emerged from the trees. Their commander had turned them back when they’d heard the sounds of battle. Stealthily they were making their way toward the recent high school graduate laying in the mud.
::I have my hands full with my sister,:: Mera projected her thoughts into Garth’s mind. ::You’ll have to save yourself from them.::
Garth looked over shoulder and saw the Atlantean soldiers marching in his direction. As he looked on the raindrops coming down in front of him swirled together and formed a shotgun made just like Mera’s own swords. Hesitantly, Garth reached out and wrapped a trembling hand around the rifle.
Siren caught Mera’s weapon between her blades and twisted it from her grip. The blade flew away into the mud and lost cohesion. Mera managed to block her sister’s follow up attack with the water-shield, though she was driven to her knees in doing so.
A sound like thunder exploded in the clearing as Garth pulled the trigger on the water-gun Mera had created for him. Pellets of hard water blasted out of the barrel and splashed onto the armor of the soldier closest to him. The blast knocked the Atlantean off his feet and sent him flying backward into his squad mates.
With a thought, Mera leeched water from the shield protecting her from Siren’s attack and formed a new blade in her right hand. Struggling against her opponents assault, kneeling in the mud, Mera slashed out at Siren’s knee. The water-blade cut through the crimson scale armor and bit into Siren’s flesh. A spurt of bright red blood splashed onto Mera’s shield as he sister fell into the mud beside her.
Garth fired again and two more soldiers were knocked from their feet. He stumbled to his feet, slipping more than once in the mud and muck before gaining his footing. He took one more shot at the group, missing this time, before vaulting back into Imp’s saddle.
As Siren let one of her blades evaporate and clutched her knew, Mera made it to her feet. Both her sword and shield disappeared back into the rainstorm that had forged them and she quickly spun and kicked her sister squarely in the jaw. The bent down and turned her sister over, not eager to watch her drown face down in the mud.
The Surfacetorn was getting ready to ride off. Mera knew she couldn’t let him run off on his own. If not Siren, then one of Orm’s bounty hunters would come to take his head. With a thought she reached out and collapsed the magic binding Garth’s rifle together. Another moment was all it took for her to bend the raindrops into a protective bubble around Garth and Imp.
“The Surfacetorn is under my protection, soldier’s of a false king,” Mera said defiantly, standing before them unarmed. “I give you one chance. Take my sister and leave this place.”
Mellach Slave Camp, Atlantis, February 14, 2012
“Three times during this krill harvest you have risked your own safety to help free those you could get to safety,” the dark-skinned man said to the young girl across the table in the empty cafeteria. “We rebels have need of brave souls like you.”
Tula blinked suspiciously. She didn’t know this man. It had taken weeks for her to agree to meet with. He’d begun inquiring after her when she had freed twenty-one slaves during the Noq’dum extermination. For all she knew, he was a spy for Orm. “Rebels are a lotta trouble,” she said flatly. “Might be I can do more good without labels.”
The man nodded. “Perhaps you can,” he was well spoken for a slave. He spoke like an educated man, someone who should be serving in the government or the military, not harvesting krill like the lower-born Atlanteans. “Perhaps someone could make use of your skills, without labeling you. I need someone who can blend in when necessary Tula; I need someone who can go… unnoticed when the situation warrants.”
Tula swam upward off the stone bench, “I don’t know you mister. Don’t even know your name. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“People call me Manta,” he said as he stood. “I hope you’ll join me, Tula. With your help, we can be rid of Orm by the time the Kelp Jungle blooms and all Atlanteans will be free again.”
Cody, Wyoming- February 15, 2012
Though the moon was obscured by the clouds, there was enough light to silhouette Mera impressively against her enemies. The rain continued to pour down, and despite the deluge, she was completely dry. Mud didn’t even stick to her boots.
The Atlantean soldiers considered her offer, mumbling among themselves for a tense moment before turning their full attention back to Mera. The leader amongst them took a step forward. “We will have the Surfacetorn,” he said as he began to raise his weapon.
“No, you won’t,” Mera said confidently. Her eyes turned solid blue and there was a feeling in the air Garth wouldn’t be able to describe any time soon. All at once, as if time stopped, ever raindrop in the sky stopped where it was. Frozen in place, Mera focused her will and hardened each one as dense as steel.
Garth watched helplessly as thousands of raindrops turned into a hail of crystal clear bullets. They rained down on the six Atlantean assassins in waves, slicing through armor and flesh, tearing them ribbons and staining the mud dark red.
The globe protecting Garth dissolved away and Mera leapt onto Imp’s back behind him. “Ride,” she said simply. “South and east. Don’t stop til I say.”