Forum Thread

The best part of battle, Andromache mused, was not the victory. The taste of victory was sweet yes, but it was the silence during the battle that left her almost ecstatic. It would always come after a storm of sensory impressions. The thundering of her hooves as she charges. Muscles burning beneath her skin. The taste of blood in her mouth. Metallic. Red. Someone’s screaming. Her throat burns. Is she screaming? She must be screaming. Her head is pounding. Light-headed. The adrenaline kicks in. The eyes in the holes of helmet are nearing. The shield comes up. Too weak. Her mouth lifts into a grin. Her back-hooves find steady ground. Her front legs leave the ground. She leaps.

Zing. Zing. The silence is white. It’s deafening. It drowns out everything except her heart. Thud. Thud. It’s been beating rapidly in anticipation, but it’s so slow. It’s almost still. Nothing moves except her hair in the wind. The bones bang against her face, her back. It’s thundering. It’s glorifying. It’s amazing. Her blades are suddenly in her hands, the motion fluid, flowing, it’s a river. It’s steel, a small voice disagrees, it’s water, another joins, it’s red, the first voice is back, not yet, the new voice is low, it’s dark and sinister and should be frightening. But it’s not. It’s a dear friend.

She stretches out her front legs, watch them hammer into the shield of the enemy. Protect your legs, a voice with a face faded long ago advises, never let your enemy get to your legs, the voice brings back smells, sounds of a time long ago. But her legs are strong. They’re dark and veined and dependable. They’re long and slender and right now they’re pushing the shield back, they’re slamming into the human, except it’s slow, slow as the widening of his eyes, of his sword being raised. Her swords are quick. They’re water. They’re a river flowing strong. They’re red. They are laughing with voices like eagles.

The swords are dripping. That’s the first thing she hears. Around her the field is strewn with bodies. Armor-clad, some facing downwards, some on their back. She reaches down, wipes off her swords on the grass before putting them away. She grabs a smaller knife in her belt. Bends down and grabs the hand of the nearest enemy. He’s already missing a finger. She takes another, turns around and follows the trail left behind her. The air is sweet like after a storm. Filled with the smell of victory. It's a smell that leaves a metallic taste in your mouth long after the battle is over and the ache in your bones have dulled. As the sun dips over the hills Andromache dons her new necklace, and watches as the last rays reflects back from the silver-clad figure lying in front of her. Today's been a good day.

It's always a shock when you realize how easy it is to end a life. Almost nobody thinks of lives being so fragile, until something happens and your whole world is turned upside down. Even literally sometimes. The fact of the matter is that people take for granted what is easily known as "living a life". The hardest part is not dying. A simple mistake and suddenly you're not moving or breathing anymore.

Though couldn't that be changed? The dying part, of course. Could there be a way where humans, no matter what is thrown at them, survive everything -bombs, diseases, old age, murder. Could there be a way to end it all?

There was one man who thought of it all, who thought up a plan to rid the world of death. Dr. Curtis Edwards was that man. Unfortunately, his experiments proved that only a select few would be able to survive the "change". Though how to separate those whose bodies weren't able to undergo the experimentation? By sorting out the ones with bad genes, of course. Though how? Was there a way to see if a person's body could withstand almost everything stacked against them?

The problem was the answer to this might be considered "unethical" to some who didn't understand the want -nay the need- to change the human race for the better. Though, if he could somehow force another town to do this deed, he wouldn't have to lift a finger; no fingers would be pointed at him -why would they be? He's a respected doctor, for goodness sake!- and yet, he could see the results and finally let those lucky few into the light of the new day. The new dawn of the human race.
Adrian raises his head to the sky, and lets out a strangled breath. His lungs contracts, as he breathed in dust, and a loud cough echoes down the otherwise quiet city. The bomb had left his city in ransacks -no shocker there:- buildings crumbling down, people looking almost like zombies, and decaying corpses piling up, representing lines to show who owned which part of the city; not like it mattered anymore though. Adrian's family had been the first wave of people to die of the acceleration of age, he was now left alone to fend for himself.

Now the seventeen year old was slowly growing older as everyone else had been- last week, he had been a ten year-old. It was so odd to him that he was able to skip multiple years in just a small week, yet he still had the mind of a ten year-old even now. That still makes his head spin. He was slowly learning how to act as an adult, though it just seems like a ruse to him.

He just wants somebody to figure out what to do around here; the AI that are still working makes his skin crawl. No matter where he is, he feels like they're somehow able to see everything that anybody is doing. Yet, what could the people do that were still alive? The now "adults" still are teenagers inside and the "teenagers" are young children. Nobody knows what to do. It seems like this town will die sooner rather than later, a large see-through dome was placed around the town a week ago, cutting off all contact from any other city or town nearby -apparently the larger government had decided that they didn't want whatever was happening back here to spread everywhere.

It makes sense, yes, even to Adrian, though he still wants his family back. He misses his mother and father, heck, even the death of his bossy older sister still feels like a punch to the gut. He remembers a saying his father always used to say whenever The Comity would show up with a new addition to the AI, "We're soon going to be like sitting ducks if they continue to add more things to those blasted things." Adrian never understood that saying, though right now, it sounds like the perfect saying. "Like sitting ducks." Heh.

The year was 3000. Man had inevitably destroyed Earth, though to everyone's amazement, they had not wiped out each other in the wars they had amassed. Man was now searching for a new place to call home. So far, they had been forced to hop from planet to planet, stuck on their spaceships; oxygen was rare for these planets, as alien races had been fighting for longer than man had been alive. In the whole universe, there is now only three hundred types of species alive, counting man; there used to be millions upon millions, though war, planets burning up, and diseases have now slowly dwindled the numbers.

In all these years, however, there has been a race alive since the beginning of time, when the world began. They are the first race of species that have survived against every thing that has been thrown at them. Because of this, the race believes that everything is out to get them, quite intelligent really. Unfortunately, this race of species might be killed off, because of a disease they received while traveling to a distant planet to trade with a close by race. That will be the last time they do that. For some reason, the race has found someone that can potentially save their race. Right now, the race, the Chulani, have that person.
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One of the warriors that had been patrolling in the cells where its crew had captured many prisoners, slowed at one of them. It was a large creature, standing about 6'4, and with its lanky stature and long thin arms propped up like a grasshopper, it looked like an old man from where the prisoner had come from. The humanoid alien's skin seemed to stretch in what could have been a grin, as it stared down at the male human.

"How are you feeling, human?" It clicked to the male, its long tongue flicking out of its mouth, tasting the air around the boy, "I do hope you are comfortable." There was no sense of teasing in the alien's voice; it truly sounded like it was worried about the conditions of its prisoner. The alien turned its head, almost like it was worried that it was stepping out of line talking to this human, its bald head gleaming in the fluorescent lights that hung overhead. "You are our most prized prisoner," it said, glancing back at the human, its black and beady eyes seeming to bore its into the male, "we shall do everything in our power to make you more comfortable."

Transformers
Criminal Minds
Supernatural
Black Butler
Ouran Highschool Host Club
Warrior Cats
Wolves
Horses
Human rps (Highschool, riding stable, etc. etc.)
Pokemon
Big Cats (lions, tigers, etc.)
Dogs (wild or strays generally)
There's probably more I can't think of right now too.