Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Sunday, December 11, 2016
The silver summer rain flung itself onto the rough, uninviting asphalt in a rush to end their lives and become part of a bigger purpose, individuals constantly flowing towards a larger, more important body. But Oliver was against the tide. Instead, he flung himself in the direction of isolation, of home and safety. His haste was due to the duo of blinding rays of light piercing the darkness, seeking only one possible affirmative that would cause the looming figures behind them to feel their version of satisfaction. In fact, they would be so satisfied to capture this very boy-child that if they did, they would literally assimilate themselves into every human-manufactured computer that they could get their hands on, risking an overload but otherwise safely shutting down knowing that they had done their master well. Because these figures weren’t the police you are beginning to doubt they actually are, but something far, far different. They were cyborgs.
They searched every decrepit alleyway and filthy corridor of every run-down apartment on the forgotten island with inhuman rage and determination. They would find this boy, and if they did not- no. They would, by the hypercore generator that formed them. But for them to be searching for this very boy, there must be something very special about him, and indeed there was. But what, exactly, was so special about him? Why was he wanted by the very incarnations of the hounds of hell, straight from the down and and dirty crime underworld itself? That would have to wait, though, for this boy was far too clever for a simple pair of D-3 AI dispatched at the flick of a metallic hand. He simply let the visual distortion chip that he had planted in their central processor earlier from behind an alleyway dumpster take effect- he had done it while they were confusedly searching for a simply programmed circuit-board creature scuttling about in the form of an arachnid-esque robot scuttling about that he had brought into the world in just about a minute. The chip now allowed him to safely slip into the abandoned building on Fort Street, where he stood and let a smirk creep across his face knowing that they would be stumbling around like lost pieces of newspaper in the wind, and for many hours after that too.
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Part of the S.S. Bouncy Spaceship: Back for More: The Doom of Wyatt LIV, Part 1
Part of the S.S. Bouncy Spaceship: Back for More: The Doom of Wyatt LIV, Part 1
By Daniel Scuria-Herman
Fizzzzz!
Ugh, another blown circuit on Robotto’s wiring? Shazbot! Sprock!
I quickly fixed the mistake and Robotto became fully operational, the first time since we landed back on Earth and I stole him away. He looked around with a slight disgust, then calmed down. This dingy basement was built in the 20th century, along with a house. In the 1970’s, they tore the house down for farmland. But they didn’t find the basement. I tried to remember my history lessons. In the 40th century, I think they made this place into a residential district. It took them a whole 10 centuries to build it, because they were disturbed by . . . . . pests, cybernetically enhanced parasites that look like beetles grown to the size of a big dog.
A millennia later they tore down the houses and built new ones. They kept refurbishing it until another millennia passed and boom -- it became my family's home after the destruction of the nuclear war with the Machs in 7305. This is my basement. Well, in the future it is. Ah, time travel. Verbs aren’t meant for the thing.
As Robotto looked around, I tried to imagine what he was looking at. He saw Robert, a hologram of my personal robot. And then he saw himself. No, not a mirror -- just the human his design was based on. Meet 22-year-old Otto Stein, serial killer imprisoned in my time. As part of his sentence, he was given an immortalizing pill, so technically he is 5,452 years old. He’s immortal, that is, until I let him out.
“Lemme outta here!” He growled from behind his bars. I chuckled as I went back to work on Robotto.
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Kamikaze Kitty chapter 2 and half of chapter 3
Wings of Metal, Heart of a Predator
(Formally "Cats in the Air")
By Matthew W
2
Le-Gō had been soaring over the rice paddies, fields, hills and jungles for so long that she no longer felt the same exhilaration of being free and above the world. She was beginning to feel an acute pain in her hindquarters and an ache in her hands, but she knew that if she let go of the stick for a single second she would certainly end up in a flaming wreck on the ground.
About one hour and a worrying drop in the gas meter later, a downpour started It was so sudden that Le-Gō didn’t even notice the rain until she looked up to check the position of the sun. The rainfall steadily and relentlessly increased, to the point which Le-Gō thought that she was either going to not be able to see ahead of her and crash or drown from the fuselage’s leaks.
The fuel gauge needle inched over to the “E”, and the propeller appeared to slow. The speedometer slowly dialed back, without Le-Gō even touching the throttle.
“I’ve got to land as soon as possible,” Le-Gō thought.
She squinted through the rain but all she could see were hazy trees. The seconds ticked by and the little needle which her fate rested on slowly descended in the inky blackness toward the dreaded “E”.
And then it was on the “E”, the propeller finally ground to a halt and the plane's nose started to dip.
Le-Gō let out a “MMRRROOWW!!!” and pushed the elevation stick as far back as it would go
Just as she thought all was lost, a patch of light green appeared off of her right wingtip. She shoved the controls as hard as she could, and the plane ponderously turned right.
“A field !” she thought. “I’m saved!”
She struggled with the elevator and tried to squeeze as much lift out of the plane’s sinking wings as possible. She was almost upon the field.. And then she was there, barely scraping above the trees ringing the field. Her ears flattened against her head and her eyelids pulled back all the way as she saw she was going to hit the grass at a 90 degree angle.
BOOOM! THUD! THUD! THUD! Went the plane as it crashed into the earth and somehow bounced.
😾😾😾
Le-Gō blinked her eyes and they felt like they were moving through Ri-Ru’s fish sauce. She licked her lips and almost got lost in visions of fish platters…
“No!” She thought, and pushed the darkness away. “I must wake up!”
She was in the pilot’s chair, surrounded by all of the glass shards and pieces of twisted metal that littered the cockpit and the surrounding grass.
“NO! NO! NO!” she yowled, but no one was around to hear her.
Just one cat, trees, grass and a dead steel bird. Le-gō closed her eyes.
“Maybe when I open my eyes this will never have happened. I’ll still be on the rice paddies, with Ri-Ru and the long-nosed twins..” She thought.
She opened her eyes and nothing had changed. She groaned, and unbuckled her seatbelt. She heaved herself out of the cabin, being careful not to gouge her belly on the broken glass and twisted metal which was once her saviour from life as an outcast.
Her paws touched the wet grass and the rain hit her fur, plastering it to her skin.
“What will i do?” She thought. “I Might as well walk to the nearest town and see if i can get passage to Dragon Mountain City.”
She returned to the plane and pulled a map out from under one of the seats.
“Let’s see…” She said. “I was going in this direction… and was around here... Then turned this way.” Her paw came to rest on a spot on the map- the Northeast Forest. “I should be here.”
The only town nearby was Tavern-By-The-River.
Le-gō picked up a farmer’s bag, put the map and a compass in it, and slung it over her back. She hauled herself out of the plane and began her trek.
3
Le-Gō hopped over a stream (was it the river in the town’s name?) dragged her bag onto the town’s main road. It was one of those towns that pops out of the wilderness suddenly when you’re going by and by the time you’ve turned your head to look at it its already long gone.
The town was built in the classic style- one lantern lit street, lined with wood framed rice paper houses. The house were made of roughly hewn wood, and the rice paper looked cheap or homemade. A single telegraph wire held up by wooden poles ran overhead and into the distance. The only signs of life were noises coming from the largest building on the street.
She padded across the dusty street- a faded sign hanging over the door said “Purple Pheasant Tavern” in shaky symbols. Sounds of yowling spilled out through the cracks in the door. The door was mangrove, inexpensive and a rich brown in color. She nudged the door and went inside.
The dimly lit interior was raucous with must have been the whole town. There were about thirty felines in there, more than Le-Gō had ever seen in one place in her life. Much more than the paddies…
“Why did I leave? I wasn’t going to get into much trouble! I may even have replaced Za-Mu when they saw my skills!” she thought.
“Don’t just stand there like a scared kitten!” A voice from behind the bar boomed, fracturing her thoughts. “Tell me what I can get you!”
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Cats in the air
Cats in the Air
By Matthew Wagman
Part One
The hellcats swooped low in unison over the placid and waterlogged rice paddies. They soared up into the bright azure and endless horizon, like the birds they imitated. They performed daring feats- now low over the rice paddie only five feet up, now piercing the cottony clouds! They shone in the sun as they flashed by, growling. They had bright and unique emblems on the side of their fuselages, each showing the pilot’s fancies.
Le-gō marveled at their almost impeccable dives and daring swoops.
“I’ll never be as good as that!” Le-gō thought. “No-I must not think of that now. I have work to do. And if I accidentally told anyone what I did at night-”
Le-gō shivered and turned back to her work.
The sun was shedding its last fading rays and sinking from sight when the small transport plane came to pick up Le-gō. Her muscles and joints were so sore when she saw the transport coming over the terraces that she knew a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure them. If she even got a good night’s sleep with what she was planning to do tonight.
“I should go over to the landing strip now. It would be nice to get some rest in the plane’s cabin on the way back to the dens.” Le-gō thought.
She nudged the plow-dog with her muzzle, and they started towards the landing strip. They walked past the flooded fields they had planted rice in that day, not as much as Le-gō had hoped. She sighed. This was certain to mean more work in the fields over the next month than she was comfortable with.
“Greetings, Le-gō.” a soft voice said.
“Oh! Greetings Ri-ru. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you coming.”
No matter. It seems that the long-muzzled twins still have plenty of energy despite pulling the plows since sunup. I wish I could be like that.”
They had finally come to the small airstrip, padding behind the identical frolicking plow-dog twins.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Ri-ru. Even in your 13th year, your fitness is the envy of everyone on the farm except Kiato. Come on, we don’t want Za-mu to take off with the dogs and not us.”
The two females padded up to the small fork tailed and round nosed transport in a companionable silence. The dogs had already gone into the cabin when the cats jumped inside.
“You two are pretty slow,” Za-mu said from atop his booster seat at the controls of the brightly painted plane.
Le-gō’s gut twisted in envy.
“It should be me on that high seat! I should be experiencing the joys of being a pilot!” She thought.
“I bet if you had known that Mra-ti was making her salmon noodle soup tonight, we would already be halfway back to the dens!” Za-mu exclaimed.
“Alright, Za-mu. Let's head back.” Ri-ru gently suggested.
🙀 🙀 🙀
Le-gō silently (she hoped) crept on her stomach past the sleeping and curled forms of her den-mates. She finally slipped past them and got to the mouth of the cave with no sign that anyone had noticed she was absent from her pile of bedding. She slowly leapt her way from boulder to boulder, a silent army of solemn stone sentinels. She finally alighted on the grassy slope at the bottom of the boulders, and gazed at the view that spread out before her. Her gaze swept past the distant mountains, the rice paddies that sparkled in the moonlight, the other dens, and finally to the hangar inset in the dark granite of the cliff.
She glided on her belly across the silently waving grass towards the shadowed maws of the hangars. This was the most important part: she was in full view of all the dens, and would be for the whole agonizing walk to the hangar. She saw a flicker of movement at the dens, and her head whipped around. She perked her ears and strained her eyes, but there was nothing. She was also up wind of that den, so she wouldn’t be able to smell if anything was there. Her heart almost escaping from her chest, she finally decide that nothing was there.
After her last few seconds of terror, she made extra pains to stay low in the waving grass. Only a watcher with extremely sharp eyes would be able to see the moon glinting off of her green eyes. When she made it to the shadow of the cliffs, and breathed a sigh of relief.
“No one can see me here!” she thought, and started walking normally.
She was heading for the farthest hangar and landing strip, inset in a side of the bleak and imposing cliffs that couldn’t be seen from the dens. As she was just getting to the silent hangar and its sleeping airplane, she looked behind her. She thought she saw something flitting down from the rock just as she was bringing her head back around, and her head flipped back around. Her ears pricked and she strained her eyes past the point which she thought she could strain them.
“Nothing’s there. At least I hope nothing’s there. I’m pretty sure nothing’s there. Yeah, pretty sure.” she thought to herself. “Now I’m going crazy. This is just great.”
She finally tore her eyes away from the grass near the dens and hurried towards the hangar. At this point she was so frazzled by the past few minutes that she just wanted to get in the air.
“Oh, to be free!” she thought. “To feel no constraints of the cruel earth!”
She gave a small sigh, and padded up to the hangar. Her first stop was the equipment locker, where she clasped one of the older and more beat up leather helmets, and shoved it onto her head. She approached the plane, and as always, was in awe of its graceful lines and sturdy frame. She did not care for the paint job, though. She thought that so beautiful a bird should be painted in black and white like herself, not garish red and yellows.
“No matter. Everything will be fine when I get in the air.” she thought.
Le-gō took a deep breath, and opened the door to the plane's cabin. She leaped inside, and sat up at the controls. She sighed contentedly, and turned on the plane's engine. It came to life with splutter and then a purr, and Le-Gō checked the instrument panel to make sure everything was okay with the plane. The propeller was just beginning to speed up, going so fast it no longer partially blocked Le-Gō’s forward view.
She didn’t notice any issues, so she guided the plane’s nose out of the hangar. The propeller,s spin got ever faster as she guided the plane down the runway, slowly pushing on the throttle. She picked up speed, and turned up the throttle. She was quickly running out of runway, so she decided it was time to take off.
She gently pulled on the controls- and she was free! Free of the Earth and flying like a bird! She was now about 10 meters into the air, and climbing. She brought the plane into a graceful turn to avoid hitting the boulders a couple meters off of the runway, and glanced down at the dark world lit by stars she was leaving behind.
There was another cat below her, watching her.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Seppuku
Timing of the krav maga
Waking up in manhattan, to a duck quacking
Squaking and Skwaking all day long
Tore the sound of a musically written bag
This man outside wont shut up
He bellows all day with no home to play
So many sounds at once
can make a person commit seppuku
Waking up in manhattan, to a duck quacking
Squaking and Skwaking all day long
Tore the sound of a musically written bag
This man outside wont shut up
He bellows all day with no home to play
So many sounds at once
can make a person commit seppuku
Free Write
In a beautiful forest, there is a babbling brook. The sun shines through the lush green leaves on the trees onto the ground which is covered with tall grass, and mushrooms of every color. Talia glided through this beauty, and felt very relaxed by her surroundings. she felt at peace with the world, and decided to lay down for a minute. She lay on the soft green ground, watching the world, and the life within it go by. The birds were rushing towards their nests to give food to their newly hatched offspring. The air was refreshing against Talia’s face as she stared at the nature around her. She breathed in, and sighed. Spring was always her favorite season, and this was why. Everything was so tranquil in the woods. She slowly got up, and walked along the path leading to the meadow. And as she walked, she felt content with herself for this experience.
Journal writing; JONATHAN ZIZAK
Summer Sets
The dew drops of summer set on flowers
not to stay, only to cherish
life's hardest hue to keep
although life's most cherished till sleep
the easygoing flowers of life
not to stay in time
or record
but our minds
our hearts
but we can always revisit
when life sets
once more
A Tree
the cat meowed every night
since she died
one day the cat didn't
all was quiet
what's the point in meowing
when no one can hear you
the tree fell, with no remarks
the soldiers died, as a whole
as a bloody country
to meow or to not
fame or for the good
with peace
we shall save.
The Falcon and the Pigeon
While the colors of life differ
No way of life shall
For the common foe may dispute
But not for the greater than good
No sign of friendship between the falcon and the pigeon
Until they fly together.
Embrace inner thoughts
As well as differences
None of which include
The feathers of the other.
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