Wow. He never thought he'd find an obsession like he found in Freya: Her circuitry, impenetrable armour, opalescent surface, ear-piercing roar. Something about being in control of such an immense and powerful being, sentient, loving yet dominated. People didn't often stop to think about the bonds with their Zoids. Alex had bonded with his armored carriers before: Fenris, Jormungan. Each time he became more and more in love with them. Fenris was a sentimental bonding; he was the first and should have been the greatest. There was something amazing about the way he moved, that fierce spirit. There was just something lacking, like Fenris was holding its pilot back from his full potential. Tut tut, destiny couldn’t allow this. That’s when Jormungan came onto the scene. Her massive bulk, serpentine structure, massive arrangement of weaponry, sheer dominating power. Alex was a control freak, and the Pteramander was the perfect Zoid, except for one thing. She was just too big. Nothing subtle about that intensity, or even her brutal personality.
One might find it strange then that Freya came onto the scene. One of the most sizeable Zoids on offer, the Trinity Liger was quite the stunner. The difference came in armament and temperament. Freya was a mild and calculating personality who augmented Alex's aggressive and instinctual style. Freya's weaponry was relatively simple, a little gun and massive feet. It took a lot of work to give her as many cabin buttons as Alex wanted. A shield, an ironic stealth system and a few more big guns did the trick. Although she lacked the finesse of the Konig Wolf, or the lethality of the Pteramander, Freya was amazingly versatile and commanded respect like nothing else. That was why Alex liked her, it was the sheer presence. Jormungan had to PROVE her worth; Fenrir never had a need for respect; Freya WAS respect.
Every time Alex had an epiphany in his life, a new soul-mate soon followed. More tones than a basic math’s student can count and a computing core designed to be virtually infinite, Zoids had never given him the feeling he felt right now. The lake reflected him running on the path near to the water's surface. It was an uncomfortably cold day and most people were at home. Alex didn’t even notice the cold as that feeling surfaced in his stomach. It was like he was being flushed with Jormungans fiery breathe, with Fenrir running around his stomach. All because this boy attracted his attention like Freya did. Besides, of all people, why did this boy attract his attention? He'd heard of men who liked each other, but hardly anyone actually admitted to it, so it mustn’t be too many people. All those times Alex had been with a girl it was fun, but never like the other guys told him it was. He remembered their descriptions of the feelings and always felt weird for not feeling that way. It was even weirder now that he was, because his attention wasn't on bust and bikini. It was on board shorts.
It'd been that way for weeks, the guy would run past and Alex would be there staring into the lake wishing for better peripheral. Every day it got slightly worse, he got slightly more confused and emotional. Today tears were sparkling around sharp blue eyes like the gleam of the Pteras gliding high over the mirror surface of the lake.
He was going to do it. He really was. This time Alex would look clearly at this boy who attracted his attention so badly. For the second time in three weeks he lowered his eyes and tried to focus. It wasn't happening, he was so scared. Did this person even know he existed? What were the chances he was weird like this anyway? Almost as if on cue, his questions were answered and fears alleviated. Kind brown eyes turned to glance at sharp blue ones. A smooth hairless hand lifted up in a makeshift wave, hard to do running sideways. Alex was stunned, suddenly one or two fears replaced with a thousand. Breathe caught in his throat, he didn't even have the presence of mind to wave back, only to quickly look away. He was still looking, but couldn't bare to focus dead-on with the source of all this anguish.
The guy went around the corner, slower than before, and Alex ran off for home. That night he didn't sleep, the nightmares worse than usual. Only thinking of his battles with friends and close-as-family helped stop the endless torrent of tears. The next day he sat in bed for hours, wondering whether he should go back down to the grassy lakeside. One half of him was desperately straining against the sheets, while the other half wouldn't have a word of the former. In the end a closed and unseasonably hot window made the decision as Alex had to move to open it, before he was cooked like a bird in a Zoids joints.
Having taken an hour to preen up, he was now late, and in a mighty foul mood. So drained that he couldn't be bothered to go back to the room, Alex continued to sit and stare at the lake, making careful attention to avoiding his own disgusting reflection. Once again fate intervened and someone else was running late. In fact, someone else had ceased running at all, preferencing a lethargic walk in the heat. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was something else. He didn't even give the slightest look to Alex, not the slightest friendly indication.
It was too much, Alex needed help, couldn't someone -anyone- help him?
(anyone come in if your ready for emotional stuff )
« Last Edit: January 25, 2009, 05:37:22 AM by Alex Muraki »
Xero climbed out his window in the fury base. Despite the lack of need to sneak around, Xero still liked doing it. Disobeying Chevelle gave him little chills, even if he hated the consequences later.
He had just gotten off his computer a few moments before after looking online for a map. It was sweltering outside and in, and he needed a place to swim. He carried a grocery store bag with him, containing a towel, swimming shorts, and a lunch more than big enough for him. The map had showed him a lake not far off, it seemed private for the most part as well, even if there was a couple of trail paths right through the area.
Xero hopped on his bike and revved the engine. It would only be the second time he actually drove the bike in a long time. He had recently sold his scuttle bike and gotten a new one. This one was way more expensive and hovered just a food off the ground. Of course, just like anything else, Xero had altered it heavily.
He added nicer seating and grips for personal comfort, a drink holder, a grocery compartment, cloaking field, and a quick boost for beating the trains across the tracks. He smiled as he petted the bike softly and rubbed his cheek up against it, much in the way a cat would rub against something to scratch its cheek.
Xero kicked the bike into gear and hovered off to his destination. It wasn’t long before he found himself there, and surprisingly he hadn’t tried to push the bike at all. It felt good to drive calmly sometimes.
He parked the bike gently, lowering it to the ground with the greatest of care. Taking the bag with him he ran off into the woods for a moment. He came back with his previous attire in his bag, and his swimming shorts dawned.
Xero set his bag of clothes on the side of the lake beside his bike and waded in. The water was cold, but it was a nice change from the unbearable heat of the sun. Xero’s feet where the coldest, the water by them being more chilled than the surface water.
Only moments before the water had been as still as glass, and now ripples emanated from around him as he swam out to the middle calmly and quietly. He dipped his head under the water briefly to get his hair wet, and it soon tamed down to his head instead of up in a fluff ball sitting atop his head.
He then continued to swim to the shore furthest away from his belongings. He was nearing the shore now as he noticed a man who couldn’t have been much older if any older at all than himself near the water. Xero swam closer until he could walk, then walked out of the water.
To Xero, the young man looked confused or sad, he couldn’t tell which. So Xero posed the question as he approached. “What’s up? Is something wrong stranger?” The question was pretty general, but the purpose behind it was a little less so. Xero could almost be sure that something was a little more than wrong.
It took a moment more but Xero finally picked up what was going on. He glanced at the person slugging away and smiled. He leaned over to whisper into Alex's ear, still unsure of who he was and whispered "You know, The worst that can happen is he can say no." Xero thought about how even though being told this had done him no personal good, it had made him feel a little better.
Xero's thoughts wandered back to his attire, he could feel himself chilled to the bone as he stood in the open air, the water droplets on his chest not helping one bit.
OOC: Sorry If I did something wrong, you writing, though detailed, is a little hard to understand a few minor details that make a bit of difference. Oh and yay for proper spacing! I can only hope that Yahtzee will see it lol. There Edited
« Last Edit: September 26, 2008, 01:16:41 PM by Xero Shifter »
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"I love deadlines and the whooshing sound they make as they fly by." - Douglas Adams - Beloved Deseased Sci-Fi Writer.
Mono walked out of the tunnel coming from the Sniper base. This whole "Team" thing was new to him. The team was nice to him, but he really couldn't relate to them. They had seen people, made friends, interacted. All Mono really knew was sand. That, and revenge. That was another thing no one could relate to. He had not been able to discern from anyone there if they knew what he was going through. He could tell many, if not all of them, had experienced loss before. However, all of them had something to return to, a precious memory of some sort. Mono had nothing. No happy memories of his parents were there to console him, no, only harsh, biting reminders of his struggle in the desert, and a deep crater of loss carved out by the golden horn of Cyclops. Mono fought back the tears as he breathed in the humid lake air.
He looked to the left to see the nearly heartbroken gaze of Sniper's leader- Muraki, he was called- being consoled by another young man. Mono followed Muraki's gaze with his one eye to see the runner in the distance, and he understood. Yet, at the same time, the emotion, especially considering the object of said emotion, puzzled him greatly. He had left the desert, but he had left it knowing nothing of the world outside. Perhaps this was normal. Why then, was he not attracted to the man in the same way as Muraki? It was odd... Perhaps talking to the man himself would rectify the confusion swirling around his thoughts. He walked cautiously to Muraki. "Pardon me, Captain Muraki... But what does that man mean to you?"
« Last Edit: October 06, 2008, 02:07:56 AM by Mono Black »
lol ummm I think I neglected this for too long and i've confused myself with it... best if we get it judged. Sorry's Mono and Xero! Maybe in the next story =)
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