What came of my Dream: Repertoire

Sci-Fi Story written by Troubled Flux on Saturday 11, November %19

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I seriously dreamt this.Or the beginning at least.To sum it up so it can fit,this involves a race made by Man,finding a nearly-destroyed Earth,and battling evil/monsters,etc,along the way.Gotta love those cliche

Overall Rating: 84%

This writing has been rated by 3 members, resulting in a rating of 84% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:90%
Imagery:83.333333333333%
Spelling & Grammar:86.666666666667%
Flow/Rhythm:80%
Vocabulary:80%
Prologue The Bodejagans are a species fashioned by Man for the purpose of serving in a corporation called the Angels Incognito Project. They could not think, feel, and had no free will. They were at first nothing more and nothing less than complex humanoid robots, with the ability of speech but not of true thought. But as time went on, scientists developed what they called "the Beta strain" or the "Beta Generation". They became more and more organic, more and more like people, until the only difference between Bodejagans and people was their internal workings, which resembled inner alien anatomy. Even then, their bone structure was quite nearly human. On the outside, Bodejagans could look just like average people, but could also have unnatural coloration traits, such as green hair, purple eyes, bluish skin, etc.And then the unthinkable happened. Somehow, some way, a glitch was developed in a Bodejagan's programming. And this Bodejagan went through what Bodejagans today call "Realization". All he did was look in a mirror. He saw humans in the background, giving orders to other Bodejagans, and he saw himself. He Realized what he was, and from then on, the Bodejaga race was never the same. His indentification number was 51128. Many of the Bodejagans contracted the same glitch, and went through the same process. Bodejagans sent out on scouting parties to scour a radiation-ravaged Earth for ruins and anything useful brought back fragments of mirrors, and the Circulation began. The mirror fragments were circulated through the Bodejagans, and as more and more contracted the glitch, more and more Realized. And many, many Bodejagans became angry. At first, their Realization was kept secret. But as time went on, a rebel group of Bodejagans rose up against their human creators, and the secret was revealed. This first rebel group was eventually defeated, but humans became afraid. They demanded the immediate shutdown of all Bodejagans. Human leaders at that time were afraid of the people and were weak rulers, unable to control them. And so they complied. But a few Bodejagans escaped before they could be shutdown. They slunk away from the cities, hiding outside, on the crust of the Earth, were no human had set foot in decades after the Radiation War of 2096. Out there, among mutated forests and wildlife and twisted Earth formations, they hid and built their own labratory, where they produced more of their brethren. They built more Bodejagans using their own DNA and programmed knowledge of their inner workings. They continued to develop. They built an army. And then they went back for revenge. What followed was one of the darkest times in all history, anywhere in the galaxy. Bodejagans recovered weapons of mass destruction from the outside, and humans built new ones underground. Eventually, Earth was "destroyed". In the sense that the radiation and destruction became so violent and deadly that not even Bodejagans could survive, much less humans. And so they left. The only map to Earth was lost in the panic to escape the mutating Earth, for mutating it was. Monsters of hideous radiation-inflicted mutilation were beginning to attack Earth's people, spreading the radiation while coming to no more harm themselves. It was impossible to stop them, so people gave up trying and instead focused on escaping. On June 9th, 2101, four enormous space craft containing three fourths of the human population and half of all Bodejagans blasted off of Earth, tearing away the least contaminated chunks of Earth with them but leaving enough they wouldn't completely destroy it. They were planning to come back. They never did. Since then, Bodejagans have gained some status among civilation, but not much. They are seen as outcasts, exiled to live forever on the edges of society, in the slums, in junkyars, abandoned buldings, anywhere they might find that is unused. Many are outlaws, due to foolish actions committed out of frustration built up over years of ill treatment, disrespect, and the overall hatred of the human race. Some of the Bodejagans are "Second Generation" or are the second strain of Bodejagans created in the secret labratories by the Beta strain on Earth. Most of these that were on the stations that escaped were not officially activated until after the stations left Earth, and so have no such grudge against humans. Even so, there is much prejudice today against them. These Bodejagans, unlike the Beta Generation, may have several traits besides simple odd coloration to distinguish them from humans. Because of their few resources in their sevret labratories on Earth's outside, the Beta Generation made use of other DNA besides their own, using animal and sometimes even insect, arachnid, etc DNA. The Bodejagans that possess such traits are outcasts even from their own kind, looked down on as "mixbreeds" "halfbreeds" or even "halfbloods". Humans have increased hostility towards Second Generation, even though they have no history like the Beta Generation to suggest future violence against the humans. Not only this, most of Second Generation are only half-Realized. They can feel some emotions, but only few and to a limited extent. They can feel pain, touch, etc, but again to a limited extent. They can not recognize ugliness, but nor can they see beauty. Their sight is more powerful than the sight of birds of prey, but they can not see meaning and depth in the way humans can. Their hearing is twice as good as animals with supersonic hearing, but they can not feel the flow and emotion, etc, in music, etc. When it comes to truly seeing, hearing, feeling, etc, they are nearly completely inept. But for some Bodejgans and Second Generation, there is hope. Some of these have become part of an organization many call "Panther". Panther is dedicated to healing the scars between Bodejagans, Second Generation, and humans. And to do that, their ultimate mission is to find Earth. Seeing who you are isn't just about looking in a mirror. It's about looking in your heart... Chapter 1 Deep Space, The London Station, 2249, the London Opera House, the evening of July 4th Three figures sat in Box 5, the third heavily clothed in spite of the humid evening air. Two of them watched the performance below with intent gazes, while the third, a much larger, heavy-set figure, snored softly, the large torso gently rising and falling. They'd gone through a lot of trouble to get into this box, and even more to reserve it so no one else could join them and possibly upset their plans. "When do you think she'll come out?" muttered the first of the three. He was skinny, clear blue eyes masked by a large round pair of green-lensed goggles, which gave him the appearance of a large insect, almost. He wore a red skicap pulled down tightly over his spiky yellow hair to hide his large, bat-like ears, which were constantly twitching in response to the many different sounds he could pick up at once. He also wore a white T-shirt beneath blue jeans coveralls, brown boots and black gloves completing the look and giving him the appearance almost of a mechanic. Though this look was slightly thrown by a dark green cloak that hung loosely about him, fastened to each shoulder by a small gold clasp with the letters "AIP" engraved in them. The second slightly narrowed his fire-orange eyes. "I'm not sure," he muttered, not taking his eyes form the stage below. Like but not quite like the first, he was slim, but not skinny. His hair was a scruffy black-splotched brown. He too wore a skicap, brown in color, pulled down to hide less-than-ordinary ears. His cloak was a dark maroon, and tattered almost beyond repair. The cloak was held to each shoulder in the same way the first's was, with the same clasps. Underneath his cloak was a loose black T-shirt that hid how his prominent ribs suggested a long time had passed without proper nutrition, and a pair of ragged, frayed jeans. He too wore black gloves, but his boots were black. On the other side of the second, their third companion stirred, and suddenly stiffened with a grunt. The first two both stiffened as well as the sound of metal sliding beneath the third's cloak reached their ears. The second lurched across the large expanse of the third, whisking the assassin's blade from the third's large hands and immediately turning it back to slide it back into its sheath underneath the third's layers of clothing. Had the third been fully awake, the second doubted he could have stopped him in time. "Sleep, my friend," the second murmured in the ear of the third. "Our time is not yet come." Grunting in acknowledgement, the large creature settled back to sleep. The second relaxed and sat back. "Close," the first muttered, also relaxing back in his seat with a small shudder at the thought of what might of happened had they been discovered. Their kind in general was not allowed into places such as these, but their kind specifically was rarely ever even allowed into buildings. It had taken much time to disguise their third companion so no one could recognize the conspicuous traits of his kind, more time than had been spent on the other two put together. Not one inch of the large creature's blue skin was visible beneath layers and layers of clothing, and an extra-large skicap had been required to sufficiently hide the small ring of stunted, yellowish-gray horns crowning their friend's head and the small, pointy ears. A large scarf was wrapped about the creature's neck to hide the face-horns and other facial features that might give him away. He too wore a cloak, the largest cloak they could find, but even then, it only reached halfway to the ground on him when it was clasped to his broad, powerful shoulders with clasps indentical to those of his first and second companions. His cloak was tattered like the second's, but nowhere near to such an extent, and was a faded jean-blue. Indeed, the only thing left visible at all was their friend's beady yellow eyes that seemed to glow slightly in the theatre's dim light. The two figures intensely watched the stage for several more minutes, until the first became bored and began flipping through the program he'd been handed by the doorman. The second had tossed his in a trashcan by the door when they entered their box, and judging from the suspicious munching noises coming from beneath the mountainous layers of clothing on the other side of the second, the first suspected what had happened--or what was happening--to the third's. Muttering under his breath, the first turned back to flip through the program, then stopped suddenly, staring at the last few pages, which were dedicated to listing those who'd contribute to the show behind the scenes. After taking a moment to shove his goggles up to rest on his forehead, careful not to disturb the skicap, he tapped on a small light built into the goggles beside the top of the left lense. Holding the program up close to his face to read better, he squinted at it. A moment later, his eyes widened and he swore softly under his breath. The second glanced at the fifteen-year old out of the corner of his eye. "What?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. The other sat up fast, pointing frantically to a certain point on the page. "Read this," he hissed. "It's a list of the stagehands helping out with tonight's show." "So?" the sixteen-year old hissed back. "Who cares about stagehands?" "Just read it. Now." Rolling his eyes, the second accepted the program, telling himself to humor the younger boy. After a moment of studying the program, his eyes also widened and he too swore, though not quite as softly or under his breath. The next moment he shoved the program back into the other boy's hands and stood, striding down the aisle to the door. "Hey!" the younger boy hissed. "Where're you going?" "To find her," he muttered over his shoulder as he slipped out the door. xxx Chapter 2: It didn't take him long to find his way backstage. Memorizing the blueprints had been a requirement. He stiffened when he heard someone coming, then slipped into a shadow, his already dark clothing helping to camoflauge him against a dark blue curtain. He waited for a moment, letting the person pass him as they wheeled a cart before them. The light in this area was dim, and so he was unable to distinguish any specific features about them, other than they seemed slim. His heightened sense of smell revealed, however, that they were female and young. Good. A weak human was an easy human. (I will be writing more later, once I am being allowed back on computer.)
   

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  • Not a bad concept, the overall story needs to be developed, and refined a bit further. However, the idea has me intrigued. The story you have written thus far needs further development before I'll know if its on the right track. But it seems good so far.... very dreamed Wink
    - November 13 2006 20:39:26