Monday, October 8, 2012

Level 1

Short story time! But ti does contain spoilers. :U

He looks normal here, because Overlanders don't mutate until they're in their mid to late teens. He's in his early tweens here so he looks pretty normal, except for the black tongue and gums. :B

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Beep, beep beep, beep, beep… His eyes darted, but there was nothing.

Beep, beep, beep, beep… He felt a chill coming from the left of him, and a soft, almost comforting and familiar warmth from underneath his hand.

Beep, beep, his hand rose to his face. He halted, from the hall he heard the rolling of wheels on a smooth surface, moaning and brisk commands shooting down as he darted his eyes frantically, still noting.

Amongst the clatter a soft gait could be heard. Shoes, he knew it was the sound of shoes, nice ones; not like the ones he had. Maybe this being's shoes even had shoelaces, or sturdy soles, the boy was momentarily preoccupied by the perceived comfort these shoes must have had for their owner.

"Hello, boy."

The boy didn't respond.

"How are you feeling today."

"My name is not boy." He replied curtly. Paper flipped clumsily as he darted his eyes, still nothing. "Well we will have to call you boy until you give us a name."

"Where am I?" He heard the sound of something thin and light falling on a cushioned surface. "I cannot tell you that unless you give us a name." The boy's mouth pursed with a queer grin, "why so secretive?" A short pause, "there are no secrets here, we just want your name."  The boy smelled the room, felt the rhythms of the people in there with them, there was much whispering and ginger movements and he could feel the man's feverish heartbeat in the breath that hit his face.

"You found my blaster and want to know how it works." A stifled silence entered the room as the boy listened for a response. "To be more precise, we want to know how a child got access to it." The man finally responded.

"You mean, you want to know how I made it." There was slight laughter in the room. "You're laughing, but you don't even know how to use it, and you know it doesn't have a serial." The room became silent again. "Plus it has technological capacities not located within our borders." The man's voice became serious, "And nothing like it has been made since the hundred year war… How did you come across writings for such a technology."

The boy looked around, still nothing, "Well it could be easier if I could see in here, seeing would be nice, but they ripped out my eyes. Might trust you more with eyes, but I already don't - so whatever." He heard the man shifting his position with agitation."You mean the Mobians." The man responded. The boy paused, "……. yea. Did you know they actually bathe?"

"Boy, how did you come across the writings for this technology…"

"Dolt, I didn't… I found an image of a man on a galonae like beast - a statue. In his hand he had a gun type thing. So I built it."

"You can't just build something that complex with no direction… Especially if the technology is dead - no reference. You needed -"

"You can if you're a god." The boy smiled even more, "I don't need books or algorithms to build what I see in my head. Or a calculator."

 The man scoffed, "you can't even read!"

"Does a bird need to read to understand aerodynamics? Does a termite need to understand pedology or the cat physics?"  The doctor recoiled, "They're beasts, of course not!"

The boy's mouth became stiff, "they're savants." His hand absently crept against the grooves of the covers until it came across something hallow and light, they became preoccupied and his face calmed."Give me eyes and I will explain my gun to you."

"Give me your name first."

"You know you can't use the technology without me, did you try already? I made a special key." He began playing with a notch located in the back of the hollow object until it could be twisted no further. "And killing or torturing me would do no good, I don't feel pain like most of us." He let the object writhe in his hands. "So give me eyes and I will give you my clubhouse."

A hand snapped to someone in the distance as they walked away briskly. "How about this, give us a name for your eyes, and your services for your freedom, Overlander…"

The boy clasped the figure in his hands, preventing it from moving as the mechanisms halted. "So you're not me. But you smell so much like me. Interesting…" He  gently caressed the toy, "You're not a threat, but I like games. Do you like games? I do…. So this is level one, and player two needs a name. What is yours?" The man readjusted himself, "Prometheus."

The boy's face brightened.

 "Ivo. Let the games begin."

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