Writer's
note ~ While creating oneself as a literary character does make biopics
and some other types of thieving 'inspirations' a bit more legally precarious
for said vultures, the truth is that the inevitable questions of any self
intelligent tale can only lead one place. ~
~ in the modern café ~
General - Slams his fist on the table, jarred cups and half eaten tarts. "God-damn it ! Just tell me what the hell is going on !"
Writer
- Leans back in his chair staring cold. Then reaches into his coat and pulls a large kukuri and
places it on the table, eyes on his. "You're not going to
like the answer to that question. And I already don't like your tone."
The barista stares intently, frozen drying a cup. The general stares at the writer before a sigh. He leans back. The writer picks up his coffee and drinks watching him close. The rest return to theirs.
________
Feet echo an empty hall way darkened, shadows from the light of it's
entry. Into the solar system's model chamber where the Earth hangs suspended.
The writer and Timepiece (modern) watch as the grid-work sky glistens
over it, then away. In returning begins forming a solid clear shield.
Gijo's gunnery chair turns on its axis while the grid in which it's set
aligns over a cockpit structure.
Timepiece turns to the control panel, monitor above clicking on with a tube sound. The
writer looks to her, her hands on a plunger switch at the console's
center beneath a display of the sphere in the temple. "Do it." She
slams it down hard.
~ The Continuing Adventures of Diver Deep ~
Gijo fires into the Earth's natural path tearing space and drawing it in.
Violently it shakes as it's pulled spinning into a slipstream wormhole, passing through the realities of it's destruction while the cannon fires a dark mass ahead unseen but for blotted stars.
Cataclysms
on the ground, floods and
storm, cracking tectonics and lost cities as the Earth scrapes the edges
of the wormhole, realities left behind. Attempt to control velocity
and path, shaving
destruction through timelines.
Headlines of 2020 mix through, with footage of the true incidents. Covoid, (... murder hornets ...), Black Lives Matter, burning stations, fallen statues. Police attack the protestors. Whatever the hell else comes. Smoke from the protests fills the views.
Headlines of 2020 mix through, with footage of the true incidents. Covoid, (... murder hornets ...), Black Lives Matter, burning stations, fallen statues. Police attack the protestors. Whatever the hell else comes. Smoke from the protests fills the views.
(continues through to the climax when ~)
With the drums, a comet drifts.
With the drums, a comet drifts.
It shatters the moon on its dark side.
The remnant shards are sent
spinning toward an Earth ahead.
The velocity increases (a bit desperately) stabilizing at slipstream C as the other Earth is destroyed behind. The Earth spins through its realities in the slip without turbulence, 'warp tunnel speed achieved'.
The velocity increases (a bit desperately) stabilizing at slipstream C as the other Earth is destroyed behind. The Earth spins through its realities in the slip without turbulence, 'warp tunnel speed achieved'.
The view glides over as the shield returns to grid. Between the fading latices and over the the middle of the North Atlantic an island flickers in and out then back in again. Past the city sign of 'Middleton' and to the cafe, the general staring back.
Writer - "Evolution mandatory. We ran out of time."
________
________
POV swinging wide, the sound of a pressurized heavy breather punctuated with bong bubbles. Slow and heavy armor suit steps, walking side to side (an antique diving bell-suit).
~ 2020 ~
All passing are in masks, nearly superhero in nature with mask matched clothing and coats, a number carrying rifles slung. Digital readouts marks passers-by in red, 'INFECTED, INFECTED', etcetera, all but one guy, marked in green, 'Good Human'.
A bird shits on him.
'INFECTED'
Nocturne - Through the breather, "This is the worst apocalypse ever. Why the hell can't I just shoot them !? They are In-FECTED. They're a danger to all humankind. Among other things."
Readout Recommendation : 'Immediate Disposal', flashing aggressively, an arm cannon fills from the gauntlet engulfing the hand and starting to spin.
Gijo - On static comm, "Because tube. So have a cup instead."
A green mark walks into a cafe, immediately leaves with two coffees ... 'INFECTED'. She looks through the window, nearly all infected.
RR : 'Burn All Biohazard Remains'.
Nocturne - Arm cannon raised high ... "Grrr ... FINE !" Cannon powers down and retracts. "I'll simply enjoy a caffeinated beverage then."
She angles side to side for the door, suit's too big.
Nocturne - "! FUCK !"
She steps backward and to the side with difficulty, the suit opens up a hotbox of smoke. She commando rolls out in goggles and a stupid flower mask, torn and tied, pistol drawn on an old lady ('INFECTED' - goggle view).
The old lady smacks her with her purse, "Anarchist."
Nocturne - Stares after, the gun shaking in her hand as she walks away ... "Libertarian !".
Still pointing the pistol and ignored by the passers-by, donated spray
paint and coins roll to her feet. She twitches against taking the shot
... holsters.
Scans herself : 'Good Human'. A happy sigh ... a slight breeze. 'INFECTED'. "Dammit !" 'Self termination is recommended for the good of all humankind.' Rolls her eyes, "Yeah yeah I'll get to it."
Scans herself : 'Good Human'. A happy sigh ... a slight breeze. 'INFECTED'. "Dammit !" 'Self termination is recommended for the good of all humankind.' Rolls her eyes, "Yeah yeah I'll get to it."
She looks around ... shoves cans and coin into her
satchel and enters the cafe.
Standing in line, the man ahead holds a baby over his shoulder, baby looking back in a leather spike mask (it says 'Vote or Die'). Nocturne stares at the baby ... the baby stares back ... readout flashing 'INFECTED' aggressively ... the baby slowly raises a middle finger ...
A 'Good Human' takes the coffee and leaves the counter. She watches him sneak lower the mask and take a sip. 'INFECTED'. The distance parsed line takes an long exaggerated march step forward from one spot painted on the floor to the next, with a unison clomp and stand.
A pause of silence, then back to murmur babble and playing with phones, baby dad's turn. He turns smelling the coffee through his mask, eying Nocturne with suspicion, leaves. The baby stares back points to it's eyes then to her ...
Time to Meet yer Maker
Standing in line, the man ahead holds a baby over his shoulder, baby looking back in a leather spike mask (it says 'Vote or Die'). Nocturne stares at the baby ... the baby stares back ... readout flashing 'INFECTED' aggressively ... the baby slowly raises a middle finger ...
A 'Good Human' takes the coffee and leaves the counter. She watches him sneak lower the mask and take a sip. 'INFECTED'. The distance parsed line takes an long exaggerated march step forward from one spot painted on the floor to the next, with a unison clomp and stand.
A pause of silence, then back to murmur babble and playing with phones, baby dad's turn. He turns smelling the coffee through his mask, eying Nocturne with suspicion, leaves. The baby stares back points to it's eyes then to her ...
A rudely cleared throat behind her in line.
She's next, a march step to the barista.
Nocturne - Mumbling through the mask, "Merf mer ne de cerfin."
...
Barista - (Infected) "You just said, 'Merf mer ne de cerfin', through a mask."
...
Nocturne - "I'm really stoned and the world is strange. Coffee please."
Barista - "Understood. He's waiting at the back table."
Nocturne - "So ... what does he want with me ?"
Barista - "What would you want with you ?"
...
Nocturne - Giggles ... "sorry. but i do think i'd want that if i were me."
Barista - "Guess you'll have to go find out." She puts the coffee down, then a tart. "All out of time to waste. He's got the tab." She stares tapping the counter with her fingers ...
A cleared throat behind.
Nocturne - "Fine." She leaves for the back table, another march step.
Writer - (Doesn't register on the goggles) "I need to get the fuck out of this place. Back exit's propped right here to the alley and we're gone. I've got a job for you."
...
Nocturne - Mouth full of tart, "Okay ... ?"
________
A young protestor walks down the street toward the cafe, lazily spray painting a wavy line along the buildings as she walks, across a couple of people who ignore, the cafe window ...
She sees the bell suit and stops. Looking up while spraying without moving, the spot on the window grows, then drips ...
...
Can empty, she throws it at the suit ~ it opens.
________
The sound of flushing toilet and sink. The general walks out of the bathroom at the cafe, writer gone. "Son of a bitch." Pulls his cell departing, pausing at by the line's march step.
He stares ... they all snap turn and stare after the step.
General - Into the cell, "Get me the fuck out of here."
She's next, a march step to the barista.
Nocturne - Mumbling through the mask, "Merf mer ne de cerfin."
...
Barista - (Infected) "You just said, 'Merf mer ne de cerfin', through a mask."
...
Nocturne - "I'm really stoned and the world is strange. Coffee please."
Barista - "Understood. He's waiting at the back table."
Nocturne - "So ... what does he want with me ?"
Barista - "What would you want with you ?"
...
Nocturne - Giggles ... "sorry. but i do think i'd want that if i were me."
Barista - "Guess you'll have to go find out." She puts the coffee down, then a tart. "All out of time to waste. He's got the tab." She stares tapping the counter with her fingers ...
A cleared throat behind.
Nocturne - "Fine." She leaves for the back table, another march step.
Writer - (Doesn't register on the goggles) "I need to get the fuck out of this place. Back exit's propped right here to the alley and we're gone. I've got a job for you."
...
Nocturne - Mouth full of tart, "Okay ... ?"
________
A young protestor walks down the street toward the cafe, lazily spray painting a wavy line along the buildings as she walks, across a couple of people who ignore, the cafe window ...
She sees the bell suit and stops. Looking up while spraying without moving, the spot on the window grows, then drips ...
...
Can empty, she throws it at the suit ~ it opens.
________
The sound of flushing toilet and sink. The general walks out of the bathroom at the cafe, writer gone. "Son of a bitch." Pulls his cell departing, pausing at by the line's march step.
He stares ... they all snap turn and stare after the step.
General - Into the cell, "Get me the fuck out of here."
