Home
Well...here it is. A prologue much longer than many of the chapters for some reason.
COPYRIGHT MARIOSUPERLATIVE
The sun beats down on a world…but it is not ours. It may exist in the same diminutive corner of the Universe, it may be the same size…but as I have said, it is not ours. Our world is a cocktail of beautiful nature and hideous towns and cities that nearly obliterate that beauty. But now…
Nature has been worn down and beaten down by the on growing population and the new cities being built over the many long years. The Earth’s condition deteriorated with each year that passed, until it became a mass of sickening, power-hungry humans, who had destroyed nearly all remnants of the natural side of our world…
No longer do birds sing in the trees. If you are lucky, you may hear a sorrowful birdsong perhaps once in a week, but it will be eclipsed by the industrial sound of gigantic, gas-guzzling cars that soar through the air of futuristic, sickening cities. Skyscrapers soar further than they ever have in our world, each one not dedicated to saving the world from decline, but making more things that even further destroy the world. Soon, nature will be gone forever.
People could have worked on stopping this chaos, for the fact that they ignored it merely enforced the inevitability of this horrible situation. The people who worked so hard to keep the planet green and un-spoilt are all gone by now, everyone overshadowed by ignorance and longing for bigger and better things. They have gadgets we can only dream of, but they are not satisfied. Satisfaction cannot be attained by inventions, merely emotions…although there are, thankfully, people on this planet who see this truth, the sheer greatness of the creations companies have made hides this fact to the majority of the world’s people.
Down in the streets, there are people who prefer to walk, something which is almost unknown in this obscene world created by the equally obscene virus which is the human race. But they are almost nil, for our race has given in to fast movement and mind-blowing inventions. But despite these horrible circumstances, let us for a moment, focus on the light in this terrifying darkness.
Robert (the names of this sickly unrecognisable race-although if we look closely, we can clearly see traces of our time within them-are the things that truly haven’t changed to any great extent) walks along the pavement, a pavement covered with awful, repugnant flashing colours designed to “keep people happier”, apparently. He dislikes the life he is living, the reason being the sad, gadget-filled world he exists in. Robert wonders how everything could have got this way. He stares up, seeing the saddening, gargantuan striped cars that soar above, their sound louder than the human ear can cope with, and the sight of them repulsive.
Robert is a friendless soul. His way of thinking attracts ridicule from everyone he knows, but he still fights for a lost cause-rather valiant, but in vain-although perhaps it may not be too bad. Robert tries to be optimistic, but it’s hard to think positive when you’re lost in a sea of confusion and annoyance with not a shipmate in sight. He wonders how he can possibly avert the terror that has grasped the world-and no ideas come to mind. Robert sighs, quickening his pace, as with the nauseating speed of cars in these days, about half a mile seems a very long way when in car it could be accomplished in mere seconds.
Robert is walking to meet with a woman-a woman who he believes can help the situation. He is not sure of what to expect, but if you are in the sea and you see a floating object that looks slightly suspicious, you would grab it regardless. Robert reaches his destination in a few minutes, and sure enough, he finds someone waiting right at the location he was specified to meet at…she has long, dark hair, he can see, but she is wearing a mask which hides her facial features. Robert wonders why this is, but does not ask.
“Robert Quay. I trust you are who I want? Or am I woefully wrong?” Robert stares at her for a couple of seconds, taking in her appearance, something which the woman seems to find irritating.
“Yes. I never really asked your name on the phone? I trust you can reveal your name, at least?” Robert says this as a way of subtly asking about the bizarreness of her wearing a mask, and asking her name simultaneously in one sentence. The woman’s response is interesting.
“No. Never shall I reveal my name. I don’t even know who you are. Thankfully this hair of mine isn’t too much of a give-away…so, what skills do you have which could help our agency?” Robert blinks. He had no idea of an agency…this whole situation was sounding slightly suspicious, even sinister perhaps…
“Well, I wasn’t really informed about the details of this…occupation? What is it exactly that you are expecting me to do?” Robert thinks that this is probably the best thing to say to the strange, shady woman in front of him. The woman sighs heavily, and puts her hand to her head, presumably annoyed.
“I should have been clearer on the phone. We have tried reasoning with the government, our agency is rather well-known. The Greenery. Crappy name, but I trust it rings some bells in that apparently skill-less head of yours?” The woman stares at him, obviously hoping for a quick response but not being granted one.
“Well, I don’t tend to tune in to News that much. I must say, I have heard of your organisation, but only ‘of’. I am not informed as to its purpose, though I am almost certain you are trying to bring back nature from its hellish stage of…well, almost non-existence?” Robert is satisfied with his response, but he wonders how he can possibly work for these people without any specific abilities.
“Well, yes. You pretty much hit it. But, and this is unbeknownst to the public eye, with a lack of any progress in our negotiations, we have started to use force to get what we want. Rest assured, violence is kept a minimum. I just escaped alive from when we kidnapped one of the grand figureheads-leader of Tesco Premium, Bob Richards. We certainly did not wish to bring any harm to the man, but is preventing Tesco Premium from coming up with any bright new ideas, although some of the people lower down seem to be making their own ideas. The fact is, it has barely got us anywhere. If given the chance without a possible arrest, we will return him.
“Now, the government has been keeping this very quiet. They don’t want to launch people into a panic-they may think us as criminals. But some people know my face-and I cannot risk anything, the reason for this mask. When you came along I was excited…I thought you would be able to help us greatly. But it turns out I was wrong. We will continue in this utter horror of a world, Robert Quay. Goodbye.” She starts to walk away from Robert, but he quickly decides that he will help, whatever is needed of him.
“Wait!” She turns around, looking at him inquisitively. “While I may not be greatly skilled, I am sure I could assist your agency in some way! What is it that you require of me?”
The woman stands and thinks for a brief moment, before she replies. “I stated our view on violence before…but I am afraid it may have to happen. Since I find you skill-less, this must be all we can do. I was risking everything, I suppose-you could have been from the government. But we need to strike the people in power, and strike them hard. As to how we will do that, I am clueless. We will need to consult the more intelligent in our agency to figure out what we need do. But I am happy for you to join us.”
Robert thinks very hard. Violence does not sound good at all, and he is worried about the fact that he might be falling in with a dark group. But, he thinks, if the world is going to change, this is our only choice. I will take this opportunity, and try to do things with minimal bloodshed.
“I will. So where shall I go, and when?” Robert finally replies.
“Come to the YLR building. Yellow Laser Research. Since yellow lasers are widely regarded as pathetic compared to the superior green and purple, barely anyone goes in there. I trust you have seen that building?” Robert has seen it, but only once or twice. He ventures into the city infrequently.
“Yes. I think I can recall its location. So, shall I be there tomorrow?” Robert inquires.
“Midday would be good. Goodbye, Robert. Pleasure meeting you and all that. We have planning and hard work ahead of us.” The woman walks away, not waiting for a response from Robert, who calls:
“Bye!” as she goes along the horrible pavements, attempting to look inconspicuous, which is hard with a mask on. Robert starts to head home, feeling victorious that something he has been searching for-a chance to bring the world out of its rut-has finally been found. He does not consider the darker sides of what he is going to do, merely focuses on the light as he walks back to his house.
OUR WORLD
PART 1: THE TALE IS WOVEN
1.
We have focused on Robert for the time being, but he is merely a cog in the inner workings of these events. Here, there is no such thing as central-as life should be. We can fly between roles to truly weave this tale, though not too many cogs are needed for these events.
At night, the psychedelic lights of the city finally go off, leaving its residents in a much less dramatically colourful world. It is one of the few things the cities do right, saving the appalling amounts of electricity used to power the equally appalling lights that do barely anything useful-in fact, my use of the word “barely” is miserably wrong, I must tell you.
Let us look down on the city-it is muted and dull. But for once, the word dull can be used not with boredom, but with happiness. In this world it seems there is no room for silence or darkness. The countless manufacturers that exits in this world have certainly tried to make that a truth, I can tell you. As in our world, things are only about money. That single thing that is the driving force of too, _too_ many people.
How saddening it is that these companies will drive down every spec of green to satisfy their customers and earn more money, and more money, but no matter how much they get, satisfaction never comes, and they make MORE and MORE and MORE until they are practically drowning in the horrible creation we call cash, but it is never enough. Never, never enough…
But despite the silence of the sleeping city, events are being set in motion by a single man...although people generally know of him, this man is shrouded in secrecy (although the public don't know it), even though he is the true leader of a well known organisation, the aforementioned "Greenery", as you probably can guess. This man is a true genius, and he possesses intelligence that almost matches Einstein, but in a world like this, does anybody care? Of course, the depressing answer is no. If only it wasn't, but this man may go unnoticed until the day he dies-because fortunately, nobody has invented any kind of life prolonging medicine, thank God.
Anyhow, the man is plotting deviously. His insane intelligence does not bode well with a violent side, and he is already thinking of extremely clever ways to bring down the government using brute force. However, in this day and age, the government's protections are over-the-top and mental, and it would be very hard to tear them down, no matter how clever you were. The man continuously thinks, his brain exploding with ideas, so many it is almost impossible to track just one. But unfortunately, probably not a one of them will work.
This man carries on throughout the night, drawing and writing plans again and again, before tearing them up and starting afresh, on something that just has to work, because this time he must be lucky, he MUST! Craziness roars through the man’s head, until a violent scream bursts from his throat and he knocks down his desk with brutal power. The man swears, and tears down the stairs, horribly angered.
He rushes through a door and slams it, and he sights a small packet on the table. This is just what he is looking for. The man pulls out the tablets from within, and quickly grabs one and swallows it immediately, bringing his anger down. This is one of the few creations of today that he uses, for it is essential for someone like him-a flawed genius, flawed with unstable emotion.
The man starts to calm down very quickly, breathing heavily. He sits down on a wooden chair, something which is a rarity these days. He stares into empty space, thinking, not about planning, but about other things I shall not convey to you. I previously stated events would be set in motion by this, and they most certainly will, no matter how insignificant these happenings seem. A plan is brewing in the man’s subconscious as he thinks about unrelated things in the foreground, and when it is unleashed, while it may not work, things will change.
Anyhow, we can zoom out now onto the grander scale-once again, the sleeping, silent city, which, while not beautiful, is certainly an improvement on the horrendous daylight. While lamp-posts are of course up, to give people a small amount of light, the rest of the city is devoid of nauseating colour.
Down at Robert’s house, he is unable to sleep from his excitement. He thinks tomorrow will carry great things for him, and from some points-of-view he is very right. It just depends on the way you use the word “great”…
COPYRIGHT MARIOSUPERLATIVE
So, what do ya think of it? I'm glad for no standard '4000 character textile breakdown, I hate that.
COPYRIGHT MARIOSUPERLATIVE
The sun beats down on a world…but it is not ours. It may exist in the same diminutive corner of the Universe, it may be the same size…but as I have said, it is not ours. Our world is a cocktail of beautiful nature and hideous towns and cities that nearly obliterate that beauty. But now…
Nature has been worn down and beaten down by the on growing population and the new cities being built over the many long years. The Earth’s condition deteriorated with each year that passed, until it became a mass of sickening, power-hungry humans, who had destroyed nearly all remnants of the natural side of our world…
No longer do birds sing in the trees. If you are lucky, you may hear a sorrowful birdsong perhaps once in a week, but it will be eclipsed by the industrial sound of gigantic, gas-guzzling cars that soar through the air of futuristic, sickening cities. Skyscrapers soar further than they ever have in our world, each one not dedicated to saving the world from decline, but making more things that even further destroy the world. Soon, nature will be gone forever.
People could have worked on stopping this chaos, for the fact that they ignored it merely enforced the inevitability of this horrible situation. The people who worked so hard to keep the planet green and un-spoilt are all gone by now, everyone overshadowed by ignorance and longing for bigger and better things. They have gadgets we can only dream of, but they are not satisfied. Satisfaction cannot be attained by inventions, merely emotions…although there are, thankfully, people on this planet who see this truth, the sheer greatness of the creations companies have made hides this fact to the majority of the world’s people.
Down in the streets, there are people who prefer to walk, something which is almost unknown in this obscene world created by the equally obscene virus which is the human race. But they are almost nil, for our race has given in to fast movement and mind-blowing inventions. But despite these horrible circumstances, let us for a moment, focus on the light in this terrifying darkness.
Robert (the names of this sickly unrecognisable race-although if we look closely, we can clearly see traces of our time within them-are the things that truly haven’t changed to any great extent) walks along the pavement, a pavement covered with awful, repugnant flashing colours designed to “keep people happier”, apparently. He dislikes the life he is living, the reason being the sad, gadget-filled world he exists in. Robert wonders how everything could have got this way. He stares up, seeing the saddening, gargantuan striped cars that soar above, their sound louder than the human ear can cope with, and the sight of them repulsive.
Robert is a friendless soul. His way of thinking attracts ridicule from everyone he knows, but he still fights for a lost cause-rather valiant, but in vain-although perhaps it may not be too bad. Robert tries to be optimistic, but it’s hard to think positive when you’re lost in a sea of confusion and annoyance with not a shipmate in sight. He wonders how he can possibly avert the terror that has grasped the world-and no ideas come to mind. Robert sighs, quickening his pace, as with the nauseating speed of cars in these days, about half a mile seems a very long way when in car it could be accomplished in mere seconds.
Robert is walking to meet with a woman-a woman who he believes can help the situation. He is not sure of what to expect, but if you are in the sea and you see a floating object that looks slightly suspicious, you would grab it regardless. Robert reaches his destination in a few minutes, and sure enough, he finds someone waiting right at the location he was specified to meet at…she has long, dark hair, he can see, but she is wearing a mask which hides her facial features. Robert wonders why this is, but does not ask.
“Robert Quay. I trust you are who I want? Or am I woefully wrong?” Robert stares at her for a couple of seconds, taking in her appearance, something which the woman seems to find irritating.
“Yes. I never really asked your name on the phone? I trust you can reveal your name, at least?” Robert says this as a way of subtly asking about the bizarreness of her wearing a mask, and asking her name simultaneously in one sentence. The woman’s response is interesting.
“No. Never shall I reveal my name. I don’t even know who you are. Thankfully this hair of mine isn’t too much of a give-away…so, what skills do you have which could help our agency?” Robert blinks. He had no idea of an agency…this whole situation was sounding slightly suspicious, even sinister perhaps…
“Well, I wasn’t really informed about the details of this…occupation? What is it exactly that you are expecting me to do?” Robert thinks that this is probably the best thing to say to the strange, shady woman in front of him. The woman sighs heavily, and puts her hand to her head, presumably annoyed.
“I should have been clearer on the phone. We have tried reasoning with the government, our agency is rather well-known. The Greenery. Crappy name, but I trust it rings some bells in that apparently skill-less head of yours?” The woman stares at him, obviously hoping for a quick response but not being granted one.
“Well, I don’t tend to tune in to News that much. I must say, I have heard of your organisation, but only ‘of’. I am not informed as to its purpose, though I am almost certain you are trying to bring back nature from its hellish stage of…well, almost non-existence?” Robert is satisfied with his response, but he wonders how he can possibly work for these people without any specific abilities.
“Well, yes. You pretty much hit it. But, and this is unbeknownst to the public eye, with a lack of any progress in our negotiations, we have started to use force to get what we want. Rest assured, violence is kept a minimum. I just escaped alive from when we kidnapped one of the grand figureheads-leader of Tesco Premium, Bob Richards. We certainly did not wish to bring any harm to the man, but is preventing Tesco Premium from coming up with any bright new ideas, although some of the people lower down seem to be making their own ideas. The fact is, it has barely got us anywhere. If given the chance without a possible arrest, we will return him.
“Now, the government has been keeping this very quiet. They don’t want to launch people into a panic-they may think us as criminals. But some people know my face-and I cannot risk anything, the reason for this mask. When you came along I was excited…I thought you would be able to help us greatly. But it turns out I was wrong. We will continue in this utter horror of a world, Robert Quay. Goodbye.” She starts to walk away from Robert, but he quickly decides that he will help, whatever is needed of him.
“Wait!” She turns around, looking at him inquisitively. “While I may not be greatly skilled, I am sure I could assist your agency in some way! What is it that you require of me?”
The woman stands and thinks for a brief moment, before she replies. “I stated our view on violence before…but I am afraid it may have to happen. Since I find you skill-less, this must be all we can do. I was risking everything, I suppose-you could have been from the government. But we need to strike the people in power, and strike them hard. As to how we will do that, I am clueless. We will need to consult the more intelligent in our agency to figure out what we need do. But I am happy for you to join us.”
Robert thinks very hard. Violence does not sound good at all, and he is worried about the fact that he might be falling in with a dark group. But, he thinks, if the world is going to change, this is our only choice. I will take this opportunity, and try to do things with minimal bloodshed.
“I will. So where shall I go, and when?” Robert finally replies.
“Come to the YLR building. Yellow Laser Research. Since yellow lasers are widely regarded as pathetic compared to the superior green and purple, barely anyone goes in there. I trust you have seen that building?” Robert has seen it, but only once or twice. He ventures into the city infrequently.
“Yes. I think I can recall its location. So, shall I be there tomorrow?” Robert inquires.
“Midday would be good. Goodbye, Robert. Pleasure meeting you and all that. We have planning and hard work ahead of us.” The woman walks away, not waiting for a response from Robert, who calls:
“Bye!” as she goes along the horrible pavements, attempting to look inconspicuous, which is hard with a mask on. Robert starts to head home, feeling victorious that something he has been searching for-a chance to bring the world out of its rut-has finally been found. He does not consider the darker sides of what he is going to do, merely focuses on the light as he walks back to his house.
OUR WORLD
PART 1: THE TALE IS WOVEN
1.
We have focused on Robert for the time being, but he is merely a cog in the inner workings of these events. Here, there is no such thing as central-as life should be. We can fly between roles to truly weave this tale, though not too many cogs are needed for these events.
At night, the psychedelic lights of the city finally go off, leaving its residents in a much less dramatically colourful world. It is one of the few things the cities do right, saving the appalling amounts of electricity used to power the equally appalling lights that do barely anything useful-in fact, my use of the word “barely” is miserably wrong, I must tell you.
Let us look down on the city-it is muted and dull. But for once, the word dull can be used not with boredom, but with happiness. In this world it seems there is no room for silence or darkness. The countless manufacturers that exits in this world have certainly tried to make that a truth, I can tell you. As in our world, things are only about money. That single thing that is the driving force of too, _too_ many people.
How saddening it is that these companies will drive down every spec of green to satisfy their customers and earn more money, and more money, but no matter how much they get, satisfaction never comes, and they make MORE and MORE and MORE until they are practically drowning in the horrible creation we call cash, but it is never enough. Never, never enough…
But despite the silence of the sleeping city, events are being set in motion by a single man...although people generally know of him, this man is shrouded in secrecy (although the public don't know it), even though he is the true leader of a well known organisation, the aforementioned "Greenery", as you probably can guess. This man is a true genius, and he possesses intelligence that almost matches Einstein, but in a world like this, does anybody care? Of course, the depressing answer is no. If only it wasn't, but this man may go unnoticed until the day he dies-because fortunately, nobody has invented any kind of life prolonging medicine, thank God.
Anyhow, the man is plotting deviously. His insane intelligence does not bode well with a violent side, and he is already thinking of extremely clever ways to bring down the government using brute force. However, in this day and age, the government's protections are over-the-top and mental, and it would be very hard to tear them down, no matter how clever you were. The man continuously thinks, his brain exploding with ideas, so many it is almost impossible to track just one. But unfortunately, probably not a one of them will work.
This man carries on throughout the night, drawing and writing plans again and again, before tearing them up and starting afresh, on something that just has to work, because this time he must be lucky, he MUST! Craziness roars through the man’s head, until a violent scream bursts from his throat and he knocks down his desk with brutal power. The man swears, and tears down the stairs, horribly angered.
He rushes through a door and slams it, and he sights a small packet on the table. This is just what he is looking for. The man pulls out the tablets from within, and quickly grabs one and swallows it immediately, bringing his anger down. This is one of the few creations of today that he uses, for it is essential for someone like him-a flawed genius, flawed with unstable emotion.
The man starts to calm down very quickly, breathing heavily. He sits down on a wooden chair, something which is a rarity these days. He stares into empty space, thinking, not about planning, but about other things I shall not convey to you. I previously stated events would be set in motion by this, and they most certainly will, no matter how insignificant these happenings seem. A plan is brewing in the man’s subconscious as he thinks about unrelated things in the foreground, and when it is unleashed, while it may not work, things will change.
Anyhow, we can zoom out now onto the grander scale-once again, the sleeping, silent city, which, while not beautiful, is certainly an improvement on the horrendous daylight. While lamp-posts are of course up, to give people a small amount of light, the rest of the city is devoid of nauseating colour.
Down at Robert’s house, he is unable to sleep from his excitement. He thinks tomorrow will carry great things for him, and from some points-of-view he is very right. It just depends on the way you use the word “great”…
COPYRIGHT MARIOSUPERLATIVE
So, what do ya think of it? I'm glad for no standard '4000 character textile breakdown, I hate that.
Last edited by mariosuperlative on Sun Mar 01, 2009 3:16 pm; edited 4 times in total (Reason for editing : To add the first chapter)
