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Chapter 2: The Nightmare; Solo-Canon for Manix/ FF/ Lab / House
Topic Started: Dec 26 2013, 11:27 AM (99 Views)
Maverick
Member Avatar
"How many assholes we got on this ship anyhow?"
Word Count: 4030 something
Some hatching posts would be cool but Im just setting her down someplace to get her started. She has nothing except a computer, the egg (which was Floyd's), and some stolen clothes.
This doubles as a house/lab post.


Chapter 1


The forest was a symphony of sound. Giant trees reached for a crimson sky that couldnt be seen from the pitch black, ground floor. Lazy rivers wove between mangrove-like root systems. Creatures that were neither insect nor reptile, but a mixture of both, fluttered through branches filled with foliage consisting of clusters of translucent globes of air. Though sunlight could not penetrate the lofty umbrella of alien plant life, the forest floor was not devoid of life or color. Phosphorescent fungi of countless shapes and sizes clung to the trees and littered the floor. Shelves of blue, stalks of green, bubbles of yellow, and filaments of red, painted the dark world with neon life and gave shape to the darkness.

This was Sordia, a marshy world several times larger than Earth, where most creatures would be considered giants. Two sentient life forms resided here. One was a giant grub, an ancient race of blind behemoths that lived beneath the planets surface. These were the Primordians, peaceful beings who preferred to study, observe and contemplate. They very rarely interacted with the world above.

The second race was a rodent like creature that strongly resembled a humanoid reptile. Like most life forms that lived on Sordias forest floor, they had no eyes. They had developed an alternate method of sight using a combination of senses. They could see almost as well as a human, though in comparison they were near sighted. Light, even the pale phosphorescence of their existence, lent color, but in no way added detail to their world. They were colorful beings, covered in fine scales that reacted to the glowing fungi of the forest. Primarily carnivorous, but able to tolerate an omnivorous diet, they were rather ferocious by human standards. With their mouth full of fangs and distinct lack of lips, they were comparatively hideous. Their skulls were armored, and usually two to five horns protruded from the back. The armor continued down their spines to the tips of their bony tails. And though humanoid in shape, their legs were crooked like dogs and they balanced their weight on the balls of their clawed feet.

These were Scavians, a race that, had it not been for the tampering of the Primordians, would still be throwing spears and playing with rocks. How this happened is another story. As it was, Scavians (thanks to the meddling grubs) ruled an empire that stretched over three galaxies and was negotiating for a fourth. Their home world was neatly organized by hierarchy another improvement made by the grubs. There was the ruling - upper class, the managing - middle class, and the working lower class. Only the ruling class knew why the grubs had implemented the hierarchy. The other two classes assumed they were simply assholes.

The classes were not permitted to interact with each other - without the grubs permission. In truth, the grubs ruled the neighboring galaxies using their little rodent pets as tools. They were not nearly as passive as they liked their neighbors to think. Scavians, for the most part, were fine with this arrangement. The grubs had given them science and yanked them centuries ahead of their technological development. They lived in cities that grew out of the giant mangrove roots. They drove vehicles that used antigravity units. Their army was unrivaled almost (That pesky fourth galaxy wasnt backing down just yet). Their place as a galactic superpower was secure. They had bypassed all the internal bickering most species weathered throughout their development in exchange for abandoning the path nature had intended for them.

The grubs plan for the Scavians was not nearly as perfect as they liked to think. The lower class made up the majority of the Scavian people. While it was possible to work ones way up through the hierarchy, it seldom happened. Either your entire family went, or no one did at all. Honor was everything and no one was perfect. Larger families had a more difficult time keeping their skeletons in the closet than smaller families. It was no surprise then that the middle class was made up largely of very small clans of individuals who knew how to keep their mouths shut. However, while middle and lower class families often exchanged places, upper class never fell. Not once in their short history had an upper ever been known to commit any atrocity worthy of losing status. The other classes assumed this was a form of control and favoritism. In reality, the uppers had less freedom than the lower, but the reason could never be known without placing the entire Empire in jeopardy. That too, was another story.


Chapter 2


Scavian cities were made up of clusters of the giant mangroves growing closely together. Cities could consist of an entire forest. The divisions between territories were defined by the rivers that snaked around the islands. A small village by the name of Shelu'ghush grew out of the root system of three large trees which grew together on a small island between two tributaries. Each ancient tree was owned by a family of the ruling class. They were responsible for the health and longevity of the tree, as well contributing to decisions regarding government and the Empire in general. To the middle class went lesser governing positions such running businesses, teaching, trading, and manufacture. The lower class were the little cogs that kept the bigger gears moving. Everything about their lives was strictly regulated by the middle class; the number of children they could have, their education, what career they could choose, what they could own, even where they could live.

Most lower class never worried about their place. So long as they did their job and followed the rules, they always had food, clothing, heath care and entertainment. Poverty did not exist. Families took care of their own or were shunned if they didnt. While no one was allowed to starve, the small things in life that made their existence bearable could easily be denied. Most were content with their place, though they still liked to complain about the hierarchy. The ones that truly werent happy were the ones who were better suited for a higher position life. They had the potential to be leaders but were held back by their family name a family that consisted of individuals who were better suited as laborers. A smaller percentage didnt fit into any template within Scavian society. They wanted to explore, and discover things that the grubs had already done long before. There was no place for them, so they plodded along at a mediocre job they could do, but werent satisfied with at the end of the day.

Shelu'ghush was a fishing village; it farmed a variety of species from the rivers. The fish were processed locally, and it went without saying that the jobs were not glamorous. Of course there were other jobs available. Someone had to run the markets and maintenance facilities. Someone had to clean up after everyone else. Some jobs were more unpleasant than others and more easily disdained.


Chapter 3


Manix Morrturlutre lived in a small apartment right on the water. The lower level tended to flood every spring. It was her apartment though, and she didnt have to share it with anyone. The rest of her family lived in one of the other two trees, so she had relative peace and quiet. Her job didnt warrant mentioning. Suffice it to say, at the end of the day, she would retreat to her small abode and hide from the world. She was one of the few who simply did not fit in. She wanted something more, but she didnt know what. She wanted out of the village, but couldnt leave. If she left, there was no place she could go.

So she went to bed one evening, relieved that the day was over, dreading the next, and praying to the gods that the grubs insisted didnt exist, that she would never wake up. It was the same wish she often mused about just before dropping off. There were so many wonderful exciting worlds out there to explore. If she just go to one, maybe she could discover something new. Maybe she could matter. Yes, cleaning toilets was important, but did it have to be her? The sounds of the forest lulled her to sleep at last. While she wanted to dream of anything but toilets, it was inevitable that a nightmare or two would sneak in.

It was a chilly breeze that woke her with a start. As she came too she realized that not only was it cold, it was too bright, the smells were wrong, she wasnt in her own soft bed but on the cold hard ground. Sitting up, she looked around with a startled gasp. Her apartment was gone, the forest was gone, the sounds of the river and the singing insects were gone. She could see the sky.

Overhead, past some short, twiggy plants she couldnt identify, was a black pool with belts of purple and blue, speckled with stars. She was confused and although she had never seen the sky in person, she was educated enough to know the sky was red at night, and various shades of lavender during the day. This sky was neither.

A shiver brought her back to her immediate surroundings. The plant life was low growing, emitted no light at all and seemed infested with tiny blips of crawling life. Looking down at herself, she realized she was still wearing what she had on for bed next to nothing. The warm, Sordian climate didnt warrant layers of clothing. Where ever this place was, it was not Sordia. It was cold and she needed more clothes. However, she did have her computer on her. It was a typical gauntlet design that everyone had. No one left home without one. The device was tied into the Sordian satellite network, kept you informed and up to date and in contact with everyone you knew. Libraries were available on demand, as well as an assortment of other entertainment. The computer was depended on for everything, even extending ones range of vision. It was normal for her to fall asleep with the thing still on. It was easy to forget about, like wearing contacts for humans.

Hope sprang to life as she flipped open the device and brought up the holographic screen. The computer searched for the satellite network and found something else hundreds of networks in a language it couldnt translate. The images that scrolled across the feed pictured pale, bipedal creatures with ugly flat faces, fur andeyes. Gross. She shuddered and grimaced at the sight. Where was she? She had always hoped she wouldnt have to wake up but this had to be a nightmare.

Another shiver and her teeth started chattering. Her priority needed to be getting warm, then finding clothes, THEN figuring out where she was. She switched modes on the computer to long distance scanning. The extent of a Scavians vision depended on their environment. An open, well lit environment that carried sound well was limited only by the distance that sound could. Sound was required for depth, shape and distance perception. Light was interpreted in a two dimensional sense as it was often impossible to determine how far away the source actually was. It also gave color to the shapes they could see. Additionally, given that the absence of light was more often than not, their other sense paint a picture uniquely Scavian. Their sense of smell was powerful, and could easily distinguish between other Scavians, but could also identify plant life, minerals, and other creatures. These werent truly seen but were thought of as colorful auras in the absence of light. The ability to distinguish surface temperatures was a limited sense that only extended about thirty feet. Warm blooded creatures easily stood out. In lighted conditions their colors were brighter and greatly contrasted with a pale, washed out background. In the absence of light the scenery could be compared with an infrared red panoramic.

In the this strange world, though it was night, the light of the moon and the starlight cast a pale glow that was much brighter than what Manix was accustomed to. Color was everywhere in pale muted shades. When she activated the long range scanning on the computer though, a square of holographic scenery well beyond her immediate range of sight was painted in infrared hues. Cool tones of blue, and black dominated, but off to her right was a bright blob of white. Rays of yellows, orange, and red radiated from the source. Her tail flicked hopefully. That could only be a fire, and, using the computer to lead in her in the right direction, navigated what she had come to think of as a forest of shrubs, and cautiously approached the heat source.

She slowed as she neared, expecting others life forms to show up. She scanned again, saw nothing, but kept listening. Soon she didnt need the computer to help her. The object was hot enough that she could make it out on her own. Eagerly she made for it, expecting a light source but finding none. A small orb was on the ground instead. She knelt and held her hands out to it, in awe of the heat. It didnt move and it smelled slightly mossy. Timidly she reached out to touch it. The surface was hot, almost enough to burn but not quite. She smiled with wonder, running her fingertips over the surface. It was leathery and soft, though the orb itself was firm. An indistinct shape inside squirmed.

Itsan egg. She said aloud, startling herself by the sound. Even her voice sounded strange in this place.

The egg was about the size and shape of a Scavian egg, though theirs had more gelatinous, translucent shells and stayed submerged in a warm pool until they hatched. Again she looked around, expecting the mother to return for the egg, but saw no one. Nor did she see any signs of footprints on the damp ground. What was more confusing was that the egg had the faint scent of another Scavian on it. She was sure the scent was male, but it was also very old and it was difficult to be sure. She could resist no longer, and possessively reached out and plucked the egg off the ground. Cradling it, she reveled in its warmth and couldnt ignore the mothering instinct to protect the vulnerable unborn creature that looked so similar and even smelled slightly Scavian.

Manix curled up on the ground in the soft depression left by the egg. The place was still warm, and she curled up around the sphere until her shivering stopped. In spite of the strange sights and smells, and torrent of frightened thoughts which assaulted her, she sleep found her just as the first rays of an alien dawn reached out over the horizon.


Chapter 4

It was birdsong that woke her, alien birdsong. She was yanked from groggy sleep by the bright sunlight pouring through the canopy above. It was blinding. With a shocked gasp, she buried her head beneath her hands and tried to hide. She remembered the night before, reached out for the egg she was still coiled about, and reassured herself it was still there. She was warmer now. The egg had helped, but the sun that was confounding her senses was also warm. When she finally got up, it wasnt because she could actually see, it was because of the headache that the brightness was causing. The headache made her irritable and then her stomach growled loudly. She was hungry and glanced down at the egg. Scavians did not eat eggs. Not theirs or anyone elses. The thought didnt even cross her mind, but the baby thing received a reassuring cuddle. Manix didnt think of it this way, but by assuming responsibility for the stray egg, she knew its survival also depending on her. So now she needed food in addition to clothes. And being hungry reminded her that she was thirsty too and she didnt smell any water nearby. Worry began to set in.

A voice ripped her from her miserable self contemplation. Instinctively, she ducked down and backed against the nearest woodsy plant thing (which was just a normal Earth tree). The voice was as alien as her surroundings. It was high pitched and warbling and she listened to its strange rising and dropping tones for awhile before she realized there two separate voices. She still couldnt see them. The sunlight washed everything out and made it difficult for her to discern the shapes her ears insisted were there. Separating the two was not impossible, but it was not a skill she could learn in a few minutes. All she could do was pray that the owners of the voices didnt see her.

Whatever god looked out for her, must have been listening. The creatures never came close enough to see her, and soon passed out of hearing altogether. Manix breathed a little easier and huddled back down on the ground. If this was daylight, she would have to wait for nightfall before she could see again. She passed the hours trying to focus on only what she could hear in an attempt to drown out the light that was bombarding all the other signals she was trying to read. For a few minutes she managed it, once, and then her stomach growled again. Afterwards she could only think about being hungry. She had never gone hungry a day in her life. It was the most horrible feeling she could ever imagine.

The day did finally pass, and gradually she noted that the brightness was fading and the world was being painted in pastels. Shapes were once more visible and her headache eased up ever so slightly. When she could see well enough to discern one shrub (its still a tree) from the next, she started walking in the direction she had heard the voices come from. She picked up the scent of the strange creatures immediately. It was a sour smell that made her grimace. She followed the scent in one direction, also noting the tracks left behind. Their footprints were strange. Uniform patterns were pressed into the mud, and each was distinctly different. There were no toe or claw marks though, and this baffled her. Scavians did not wear shoes. The upper class that entered the military did, but lower class did not go off world and were not aware of this tidbit of information.

The scent led her out of the shrub forest and into a clearing dotted by short, block shaped structures that grew up out of the ground. Alien buildings, she was clever enough to assume, but not at all like a Scavian dwelling. Light poured from rectangular openings in the sides of the structures. She could see shadows moving across the portals. As she neared, she could see heat escaping from various thin places in the buildings. During her walk, the sun had fallen to the horizon and the air had cooled. She was hugging the egg closely again as she watched the strange aliens go about their business.

She found another stray shrub to hide behind while she spied on the creatures. One of them exited the structure. It looked just like the ones she had seen on the garbled network feeds. It was carrying a basket out to a line strung between two more shrubs. Bits of cloth were draped over the line and fluttered in the light breeze. Another creature inside the dwelling shouted, luring the basket carrier back inside before its task was complete.

Manix saw her chance and made her move. She had already targeted what appeared to be a pair of pants and a shirt. She placed her egg at the base of the shrub she was hiding behind and darted forward, jumping a low, metal barrier that stood between her and the line of clothes. She snatched the two pieces of clothing off the line and swiftly ran back the way she came, hopping the fence once more, snatching up her egg, and running back for the shrub forest. The alien was still inside the building when she finally stopped running and collapsed at the base of one of the shrubs. To here though, it had been a close call.

The egg was placed on the ground beside her while she gasped for breath. She was not an athlete and felt like her lungs were going to burst. Sweat ran in rivulets down her back and her hearts pounded like jackhammers against her chest. She looked at the egg beside her and the clothes in her claws and started laughing.

I just stole something. She told the egg incredulously. The egg did not reply but the tiny, white hot form inside the egg squirmed just a little bit.

The laughter burst from her throat again as a short, rasping bark. The situation was so ludicrous she couldnt believe it. Theft was something only the worst of Scavians would dare resort to. You didnt realize how much freedom and luxury you had until it was denied. You didnt know how nice it was to be unimportant and invisible until you were physically marked and stood out to be publicly shamed and ostracized. Scavian justice had zero tolerance for deviants. Unlike humans, the criminal was not coddled and cared for and protected. They were left to the public that they had harmed with their actions. They were tattooed with some variation of the same mark. One might translate as theft, another might be violence, and another murder but they all meant dishonor. Sometimes a family would stand with the individual and protect them. Most turned their backs and disowned them rather than share in the shame. The criminal was left on the outskirts of society, where few would do business with him. He survived on rations but even these were denied if he refused to contribute to society. More often than not, the individuals would band together and make their situations worse.

Manix examined the stolen pants. Did this place have the same sort of punishment? She couldnt help the sudden inclination to drop the clothing and run away. But no, the chill in the air was noticeable. She didnt know where she was or how she would survive. She refused to be seen half naked. If these aliens were a space fairing society, maybe they knew of Scavians, maybe they could help her get home. She didnt want to resort to stealing again, but she had to admit it was necessary. Her guilt was not any less, but it was justifiable enough that she could live with herself, even if branded a thief for the rest of her life. Again, she looked at the clothing. Now that sun was down, she could tell they were several colors of blotchy green and sort of matched the plant life around her. They were also full of holes and she figured one more wouldnt matter. She made an opening in the back for her tail and stood to try them on.

A little baggy. She told the egg upon seeing how they hung on her frame. But I think theyll work. The embryo did a little flip inside its egg.

Next she tried the shirt. It was a tank top, light gray, and didnt cover nearly as much as she had hoped. Still, it was better than nothing, but she would need to find a jacket or something if she could. That might mean stealing again, and her hearts sank with the thought. She cheered herself up by modeling her new attire for the egg.

I like it too. She said, pretending the egg approved of this decision. Now lets go find some food.

And this was how her journey began, with her head so full of thoughts about basic survival that she wasnt permitted the chance to comprehend what had actually happened. That would come later.
Posted Image
Floyd's Profile
Level: 75
Notes: Questing for Rayquaza
Affiliation: None

Posted Image
Manix's Profile
Level: 32
Notes: Nothing yet!
Affiliation: None
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DarthEevee
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Cute and Fluffy Evil Overlord
So, it had a slow start, which could turn some people off. I admit that I've been curious about all those things for a while so it simply fascinated me, but the fact that the character involved doesn't show up until about halfway through is usually a bad literary thing. They usually should show up within the first couple paragraphs.

But that's all cool. All that information is important and needed, and like I said, stuff I've been itching to hear more about for ages so it worked out well in that respect.

Creativity: 5
Believability: 5
Technical Prowess: 2.5

So the base score is 112.5.

3 for word count, 3 for easy read, 2 for no loose ends, and an additional 2 for having info that I found fascinating and been drooling over getting makes the end result 122.5 LP.

As you can see from the points above, there were a number of literary goofs, gaffes and mispellings (a 'here' or two instead of 'her' and so on) but they never actually detracted from the story. Poke me later if you want me to actually pick this story apart for them like I have in the past, but that'll take me two hours to get the grade done, so suffice it to say that since I'm trying to get this done quick, I'm not bothering right now.

One other thing before I go, though. Sometimes it is good to use 'Manix' or 'the Scavian woman' or 'the lost alien' or the like instead of the constant stream of 'she' and 'her' throughout the piece. Breaking up the pronouns adds a bit of spice to the story and keeps it clear that you're still talking about the same person. Not that it wasn't in this piece or anything, just saying that it does make it more interesting to have it not always be pronouns to the exclusion of all else even if you're only ever referring to the same character.

Oh, and yeah, you can have 5000Z if you want it, but I don't think you do, you're getting the pokedex and tech stuff set up separately as well, so...here's the options on the LP:

122.5 LP banked for Manix.
102.5 LP banked for Manix and 10 posts shaved off your hatching.
82.5 LP banked for Manix and you can have the egg hatch immediately.

You could also actually decide exactly how many posts you want left, but I figured the simplicity might be appreciated.
Edited by DarthEevee, Dec 26 2013, 02:56 PM.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the present. ~Oogway

Ben Summers
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APL: 50
MPL: 50
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Maverick
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"How many assholes we got on this ship anyhow?"
5LP for you for jumping on this so quick.

This did not really start out as an FF, just thoughts that were important to nail down so the behavior difference between her and Floyd make sense later - and then it turned into a book. So yep, grammar sucked but thanks for looking at it, no need to pick it apart in detail though. Just gonna bank the LP and pick an appropriate moment for mr egg to hatch later.
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Floyd's Profile
Level: 75
Notes: Questing for Rayquaza
Affiliation: None

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Level: 32
Notes: Nothing yet!
Affiliation: None
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