ok, the first part of the last half. i'm gonna post a questionaire abot how this should end soon, i have three endings atm, and i need to choose which one is the final ending, but ill post the other two as well.
The jeep stopped t the barbed wire fence that circled the southern perimeter of the defenses that guarded the river. Forrest stepped out; he was dressed in grey combat gear, helmet visor down, hiding his blue eyes from the glare of the sun, as well as providing protection against the dust that filled the air. He walked forward towards a man in the uniform of the council’s army, the officer saluted.
“Mornin’ sir, Lt Jones,” he moved to shake hands, Forrest obliged,”I’m to show you to your quarter’s sir.”
Forrest gave a small smile, “lead on Lieutenant.”
The barracks was a cramped concrete affair, filled with bunks and storage lockers, Forrest left his men to adjust themselves as he was escorted to the officer’s quarters. He never got there.
The siren wailed, men spilled from the surrounding barracks, Forrest dropped his bag and followed the rapidly moving column of troops. The soldiers were heading north to the river, past the defense lines. The dust filled air burned his lungs but he continued to run, he checked the clip of his pistol, full. He was one of the first to reach the outer line of defenses, the makeshift walls of sand bags and sheet metal that defended the bunkers and concrete walls behind. Forrest stepped back in disbelief as he saw the river come into sight.
Hundreds of barges were making their way across the placid water; aboard the floating platforms were thousands of northerners. Forrest felt a sickening jolt of fear; this was the reality of the war he’d caused. Bullets whizzed passed him thudding into the defenses behind him.
A hand dragged him back behind the protection of the barriers, the first barge reached the shore and the northerners disembarked. The first men off were giants, the pair towered above their comrades; both wielded huge axes and ran forward at the defenders.
Forrest’s ears rang as the automatic rifles the troops carried opened fire; one of the giants went down but the other on kept running. Then Forrest saw the danger. The troops were concentrating as all their fire on the giants and the rest of the northern force was allowed to run to continue their run to the defenses.
He swore then drew his katana and leapt over the barrier, the southern fire stopped, and others followed his example, the grate of steel on steel sounded as bayonets were dragged from scabbards. The familiar weight if his sword calmed Forrest as he leant, to one side to avoid a club swung at his head, he swayed back and sent his blade slicing forward to slice the northerners jugular.
He weaved through the first wave of attackers, slicing and parrying, never losing his momentum. Another siren sounded and the defenders fell back to the defenses as more barges landed. More giants disembarked, eight in all, all wielding the huge axes, the southerners opened with a volley at the troops that milled around the giants feet , this was more effective, but then the giants charge hit home.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Forrest IV
ok i have decided where this is going now so in my free periods i'll try and get it done.
The blades clashed, the grating sound of steel on steel, and then the combatants drew apart. Both were shirtless their naked torsos dripping with sweat, minor cuts and slashes covered their bodies.
Forrest began to circle his opponent, his katana shining blue in the clear morning sun. This work out had freed his mind from the troubles of his normal life. He loved the life his wealth and status provided but he hated the intrigue and scandal that it brought with it. He wanted a simple life, free to do what he pleased without worrying about how people judged his actions.
To sell his life and buy somewhere outside the city a little estate in one of the new developments to the east; but the war made this impossible.
To the north men were dying and the council had deemed it his fault. They’d sent him a message that morning; he was to mobilize his personal guard to the front line and personally command them.
His trail of thought drifted, as he launched a new attack, a swift thrust, easily parried, but the riposte sent his blade to stop just touching his opponent’s throat. They bowed to each other and Forrest left to shower.
His stripped off, his sweat soaked leggings, grabbed a towel and stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed his tense muscles and stung the little cuts down his chest, and the gash on his left shoulder. He stepped from the shower feeling revitalized, and fresh. He walked to the bed room where his mood sank. At the foot of the bed, lay his bag – packed. His scabbarded Katana lay next to it, his pistol on the bed. Tears pricked at his eyes but he blinked them back, as he felt hands on his shoulders and lips on his neck. He drew her round and drew her close; he could see the sorrow in her eyes.
‘I’m coming back, I promise.’ He kissed her,’ I’m coming back and then we’re leaving all this. All the lies and politics, it’ll be just us.’ He forced a smile, and hoped he’d sounded convincing.
They spent the night together, a passionate night as both knew it could be their last…
The next morning he piled into the jeep with 5 others the rest of the men following later in an APC. He was going to war.
The blades clashed, the grating sound of steel on steel, and then the combatants drew apart. Both were shirtless their naked torsos dripping with sweat, minor cuts and slashes covered their bodies.
Forrest began to circle his opponent, his katana shining blue in the clear morning sun. This work out had freed his mind from the troubles of his normal life. He loved the life his wealth and status provided but he hated the intrigue and scandal that it brought with it. He wanted a simple life, free to do what he pleased without worrying about how people judged his actions.
To sell his life and buy somewhere outside the city a little estate in one of the new developments to the east; but the war made this impossible.
To the north men were dying and the council had deemed it his fault. They’d sent him a message that morning; he was to mobilize his personal guard to the front line and personally command them.
His trail of thought drifted, as he launched a new attack, a swift thrust, easily parried, but the riposte sent his blade to stop just touching his opponent’s throat. They bowed to each other and Forrest left to shower.
His stripped off, his sweat soaked leggings, grabbed a towel and stepped into the shower. The warm water soothed his tense muscles and stung the little cuts down his chest, and the gash on his left shoulder. He stepped from the shower feeling revitalized, and fresh. He walked to the bed room where his mood sank. At the foot of the bed, lay his bag – packed. His scabbarded Katana lay next to it, his pistol on the bed. Tears pricked at his eyes but he blinked them back, as he felt hands on his shoulders and lips on his neck. He drew her round and drew her close; he could see the sorrow in her eyes.
‘I’m coming back, I promise.’ He kissed her,’ I’m coming back and then we’re leaving all this. All the lies and politics, it’ll be just us.’ He forced a smile, and hoped he’d sounded convincing.
They spent the night together, a passionate night as both knew it could be their last…
The next morning he piled into the jeep with 5 others the rest of the men following later in an APC. He was going to war.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Forrest III
ha ha post Number 40!
ok this is sort of hhalf of the third part but it has a definate end point which the next bit doesn't have yet so here it is.
He woke, surprised not to find himself by the side of a crater. He was at home; lying in bed. She sat over him, worry showed on her face. He could see the dirty streaks down her face where she had let the tears fun. He tried to speak but the effort hurt, she saw his eyes open and relief flooded her countenance.
She embraced him, causing a rush of pain to his ribs that he ignored.
‘I thought you wouldn’t make it.’ She was crying again, the tears ignored and flowing free. He smiled, and then passed out, his vision blurring.
He spent the next three weeks in bed; he’d broken two ribs and suffered a major concussion. Stephanie sat by him as often as she could but she was the only visitor admitted by the estate doctor. In the second week he began to walk round again and by the end of the third he was training his body and beginning to come back into the businesses. All this time the war had been raging in the north of the city, the southern defenses were pushed to breaking, the northerners kept coming back with renewed numbers and better tactics. The guild had suffered heavy losses in an attack on the same day as the car explosion.
Forrest was in the gym, working out. He felt stressed; tomorrow night was his first public appearance since the accident. He had to attend a ball held by the leading parliamentarian. Forrest needed his influence on his side, the story of the skirmish in the bar had leaked and now he was being blamed for the current trouble. As he knew he would.
He dressed that night in his usual black, the shirt tight fitting but soft, his katana buckled at his waist. She was on his arm, the black ball gown flowing onto the tiles of the atrium.
The powder on the top of her breasts made her pale skin all most white, he kissed her, composed him self then they entered the hall.
The long tables were arrayed in two columns with an open space for dancing in the centre; they found they’re seats, suitably close to the head of the table and awaited the gong for the first course.
The meal was a dull affair not Forrest’s taste at all, the food was all delicately arranged and in small portions that left one feeling unsatisfied. He did manage to talk with several of the parliamentarians but they were all the old school of thinking and his views clashed with theirs. All in all the night was a disaster and he was glad when the clock struck eleven and he could leave without seeming rude. He made his goodbyes, feigning his recent injury as a reason and went home his mood soured.
ok this is sort of hhalf of the third part but it has a definate end point which the next bit doesn't have yet so here it is.
He woke, surprised not to find himself by the side of a crater. He was at home; lying in bed. She sat over him, worry showed on her face. He could see the dirty streaks down her face where she had let the tears fun. He tried to speak but the effort hurt, she saw his eyes open and relief flooded her countenance.
She embraced him, causing a rush of pain to his ribs that he ignored.
‘I thought you wouldn’t make it.’ She was crying again, the tears ignored and flowing free. He smiled, and then passed out, his vision blurring.
He spent the next three weeks in bed; he’d broken two ribs and suffered a major concussion. Stephanie sat by him as often as she could but she was the only visitor admitted by the estate doctor. In the second week he began to walk round again and by the end of the third he was training his body and beginning to come back into the businesses. All this time the war had been raging in the north of the city, the southern defenses were pushed to breaking, the northerners kept coming back with renewed numbers and better tactics. The guild had suffered heavy losses in an attack on the same day as the car explosion.
Forrest was in the gym, working out. He felt stressed; tomorrow night was his first public appearance since the accident. He had to attend a ball held by the leading parliamentarian. Forrest needed his influence on his side, the story of the skirmish in the bar had leaked and now he was being blamed for the current trouble. As he knew he would.
He dressed that night in his usual black, the shirt tight fitting but soft, his katana buckled at his waist. She was on his arm, the black ball gown flowing onto the tiles of the atrium.
The powder on the top of her breasts made her pale skin all most white, he kissed her, composed him self then they entered the hall.
The long tables were arrayed in two columns with an open space for dancing in the centre; they found they’re seats, suitably close to the head of the table and awaited the gong for the first course.
The meal was a dull affair not Forrest’s taste at all, the food was all delicately arranged and in small portions that left one feeling unsatisfied. He did manage to talk with several of the parliamentarians but they were all the old school of thinking and his views clashed with theirs. All in all the night was a disaster and he was glad when the clock struck eleven and he could leave without seeming rude. He made his goodbyes, feigning his recent injury as a reason and went home his mood soured.
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