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originally posted in:The Black Garden
Edited by Aleroth Aloki:
7/15/2013 2:13:33 PM
268
Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)
Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us writers to take center stage for a time. The Black Garden as well as our friends over in Arts and Stuff are going to host a contest that is solely devoted to writers. The rules are simple.
For any who wish to enter, you are tasked with writing a short little anecdote that is to have a maximum of 300 words. The location for this piece of work is to be located in the picture provided above. The deadline for entering is this Sunday(14th) at midnight. For any who wish to enter, please submit your stories by placing them in the comments.
Judging will be done in two phases. The first phase will consist of a Panel of both groups reading over each story and deciding which seven are the best of the best. Once the first stage is complete, we shall hand it over to you, the audience, to decide who is ranked number one as lore master. The Winner of this contest shall receive a print of the Buried City signed by the Destiny writing team.
Good luck and Be Brave.
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1 ReplyOne day i was soloing deathsingers when... Deathsinger was extra spooky nd ghostbuster theme was playing! BUT YOU KNOW WHATS BETTER THAN FANFICTION [spoiler][i]Knowledge, thats why i have these 3000 books.[/i][/spoiler]
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3 RepliesNecro
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23 RepliesEdited by Ronin: 7/14/2013 10:52:37 AMThe flak from the Cabal’s weapon pummeled the fractured barricade sheltering the Warlock and Titan. Their armored foe advanced through the rust sandstorm, its growls adding to the cacophony. The guardians’ retaliatory gunfire was little more than the grains of Martian sand in the gale. “She’ll be here,” said the Warlock. Beyond their rapidly weakening refuge lay a forsaken, buried city devoid of life. Without these warriors, only cloth and twisted metal in the wind would remain—echoes of the Golden Age, relinquishing secrets to the sands. “You’ve spent too much time studying the Traveler, and not enough other people,” said the Titan. “She’s not coming.” Not waiting for a rebuttal, the Titan slipped from cover, rocket launcher at his shoulder. Scorching explosions met alien armor. The Warlock seized the opportunity, leapt onto the giant’s back, one hand finding a hold, the other firing incandescent blue fusion rounds into the beast’s neck; until a monstrous hand found cloak, heaving him into a support beam of the abandoned transit station. The Cabal raged, sprinting for the Titan and trapping the human in its hands. A ferocious growl as the Titan’s bones began to crack. The end was coming. But death’s expected silence never arrived. Instead, the distant but familiar whirr of something coming, then louder, before he was thrown away. A Sparrow hurtled into the behemoth, engulfing it in a steel inferno. A slender silhouette floated above the chaos and flames; the flash of two hand cannons, firing in unison into the top of the Cabal’s head. With a horrific moan, the Cabal released itself to the sands, crumbling into a tangled mess of alien and wreckage. “Remember the part where I said to tread quietly?” The Hunter holstered her revolvers. The Warlock turned to his companion. “Told you she’d show.”
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14 RepliesBeing a mercenary is never easy. It had only been a day since the job began. Of the original company, only two members had survived the trek into the heart of the Buried City. Mars was already a vicious and unforgiving world, and the constant Cabal patrols only made matters worse. Cauldron was a grizzled survivor of many of these failed treasure hunts. He scowled at the red dust that caked his scarred Titan Armor and walked up behind his comrade who was nervously glancing over a holographic map. “Simon, have you found our vault yet?” he asked, startling the Hunter to attention. “Y-yes, just beyond that loading dock should be the site that Osiris mentioned in the job description…” he stammered as Cauldron walked briskly past him. The city’s containment field had broken long ago, and the desert had wasted no time in greedily reclaiming the metropolis. Cauldron climbed the wind-scarred steps into the dimly-lit interior of the ruined building, halting in front an ancient steel door. He wedged his hand into a crack and pried the door open with his shoulder, dust billowing into the broken vacuum. “…I was going to hack that” Simon muttered. The duo stepped into the warehouse of a pre-collapse distribution center. The darkness was punctuated by the soft blue glow of scattered glimmer, illuminating a corpse that was only a few yards from the door. As they approached, the corpse twitched to life, slowly pulling its desiccated and flaking body from the floor, letting out a long wheeze. The darkness was suddenly ablaze with numerous green trifocal eyes which swiveled to face those who would dare to disturb their tomb. Simon let out a weak whimper. Cauldron sighed as he unslung his trusty autorifle from his back. Being a mercenary is [i]never[/i] easy.
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This thread is getting flooded with too much text, so I'll just post a link here: http://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/67555658/0/0/1 Enjoy~
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9 RepliesEdited by Mariachi: 7/15/2013 2:52:05 AMTitle: The Fearless As a child I feared what was outside the wall. My family taught me that we were safe within our city as long as the Traveler watched over us and the Guardians defended our walls. I used to play and make believe that I was one of the Guardians, a member of the Vanguard, fearless and mighty. I could pretend to be brave. And somehow that always seemed to make me feel a little safer. Some days I miss being innocent. My life as a Guardian is nothing like the fantasy of my youth. It's hard, and cold. And the fear is always with me. Fearless. That was just the fantasy of a child. A foolish child. Standing now on the cold, red of Mars, the fear is almost more than I can bear. I don't know how long ago it was that this barren city had life. And I don't know what took that life away. What I do know is that this city was buried. Intentionally. And that scares me. What must have transpired here that this once beautiful city earned the burial it received? Was it buried as a punishment? Or was it a kindness? A generous blessing to the rest of us, to forever hide something that must never be found. The fear swells within me. But I am a Guardian. Not the fearless warrior I once believed in as a child, but something more. I know now that strength comes from facing our fears. And I know that I won't face it alone. I am a Guardian of the last city of Humanity. There are few of us left, but we stand together. And we are stronger than our enemies believe us to be. And we will endure.
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1 ReplyEdited by moofant: 7/15/2013 4:52:28 AM[u]Remember John[/u] “Remember John – the strength of the Wolf is the Pack, and the strength of the Pack is the Wolf. Keep this phrase close John. Live by it, and you will prosper.” “But father, what if I lose sight of my pack? What if I am alone and only darkness surrounds me?” “John, light travels to the darkest of places. You can always find it – you just have to know where to look.” John, a human Guardian – wielder of the Traveler’s awesome power, has been trapped inside a dark and dilapidated building for three days. Three days ago, John’s fireteam was separated by a sandstorm that caught them in a Cabal controlled city near Elysium Mons. John took shelter inside the building closest to him -- a round building – small in comparison to the abandoned skyscrapers surrounding it. The storm eventually settled, but the sand left behind engulfed John’s shelter. Opening the door was possible, but the cracks forming in the door’s glass by the pressure of the sand outside convinced him to leave it shut. The next day, John was awoken by light shining through the door he entered previously. Another storm must have blown the sand away. John opened the door, and saw a body lying in the square in front of his shelter. He rushed towards it, but the sandstorm made it unidentifiable. He found a pair of dog tags. They read: “Human: Warlock – Koning, Daniel”. John was overcome with grief; Daniel was a member of his fireteam and a childhood friend. John seemed to erode like everything else in the city around him. “Is this how it all ends?” he thought. John recalled the dream he had last night: “…something my father once told me.” In an instant, he reclaimed himself: “I must find my Pack.” Works Cited: "The Law of the Jungle" --"The Second Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling.
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1 ReplyEdited by Ankhai: 7/14/2013 9:52:07 PMFirst Blood: A Destiny Story Styx disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled her sniper rifle. For the eleventh time today. Her Captain, a "Titan", entered the cabin. "We make landfall in ten min-- Oh," he said, as he noticed her fidgeting at her weapons, "First time in real combat. Don't worry about it. Anyway--" "Landfall in ten minutes." "Ermm... Affirmative," he stated as he went out the door. Styx had been in her fair share of scrapes. But taking out a Cabal base was more than a scrape. This was war. After a tense ten minutes, the ship landed softly amongst Mars' vast dunes. The orange dust made a spectacular sunset, but Styx was to worried about the fight to come to notice. "Buckets on, everyone!" called the Captain. Styx put her helmet on and twisted into place, sealing it against the atmosphere. As the fire-team walked outside, into the dunes, Styx pulled out a pair of enhanced binoculars and pointed them at the horizon. Ahead, she saw a ruined complex of buildings. The Martian winds had taken their toll, shattering windows and even causing some buildings to collapse entirely. "All right, everyone. Here's the plan of attack. Styx will climb the tallest building she can find, and try to pick off targets. I'll draw fire with the chaingun, and Lars, you-- use your.. "space magic" to take out any groups you see. Let's get going." The Cabal were bigger than Styx had expected. A lot bigger. Once the team arrived at the complex, they instinctively split off each finding their own niche in the battlefield. Styx found a tall building and began to climb. Once at the top, she found a vantage point amongst the rubble and lay down, pulling out her sniper rifle. Then she looked through the scope and selected a target. The Cabal member was staying still, off by himself. She took aim, putting his head in line with her targeting reticule, reached for the trigger... and hesitated. This shot would spark a war with the Cabal. How could she... She shook herself out of thought, aimed again, and fired. The first blood is always the hardest.
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12 RepliesEdited by SpartanPatriarch: 7/13/2013 3:13:21 AM[b]Blood Knight[/b] The city had been fouled. She’d suspected as much when first she’d seen the broken spires jutting from the scorched landscape, like the metallic bones of some majestic beast left to spoil in the desert sun. But now there could be no denying whatever corruption had taken hold there, its foul stink heavy on the winds that rattled the structures high above her head. “This is the place,” she remarked without sentiment. Beside her, the hovering orb of light flushed a pale rose. [i]“Well, it’s where they dropped their beacon, anyway.”[/i] It flitted towards a glinting sphere of metal half buried in the dust. [i]“See?”[/i] She didn’t need a machine to tell her what she already knew to be true. A few strides brought her to the beacon, dropped by some unknown Guardian, and she brought her heel down upon the device, hard. The faint popping noise inside her helmet went dead. “This is the place,” she said, before making her way further into the city. [i]“Gosh, have you always been this moody?”[/i] the Ghost (which insisted on being called Felisin, of all things) asked. [i]“Or have you only started being this charming since we’ve met? Because it seems to me that-“[/i] “Quiet.” The duo neared the entrance to some forgotten metro system, its maw half clogged with sand, slain Guardians and their Fallen adversaries. A tormented howl echoed forth from the blackened depths. [i]“Oh boy,”[/i] Felisin whispered, fading to a sunlit yellow. [i]“That sounded[/i] really [i]bad.”[/i] The Titan equipped herself with a heavy rifle pulsing with some heretical arcane energy. “It did.” She marched towards the cavernous entrance as another scream split the silence that had fallen over the desecrated city. [i]“I really hate this,”[/i] Felisin groaned, unaware that beneath her helmet, the Titan was smiling.
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2 RepliesEdited by Skeloton: 7/11/2014 8:10:25 AMRelaxing in the 7th Hell Club All was quiet in the tower. If one doesn't count the 7th Hell Club, the sounds emanating from it can be heard from most places of the tower. Its doorway lighting up the dark alleyway outside. The ruckus centres around a circular table surrounded by Guardians and City populace alike. John is among them and the loudest laughing and giggling manically. Poker is the game and Winner is Johns name. In the corner a lone Exo lounges on a sofa, reflecting upon himself. A woman enters the club, John shouts out to her "Hey Sarah, Hunter's brooding in the corner over there" pointing to the Exo in the corner. She walks over to him with a seductive sway, "Scott, you ok?" she asks kneeling to look into his mechanical blue eyes "you know your eyes are the same blue as they we before". "I'm fine, just waiting for Dinklebot to decipher the codex I found. And just what happened to the cute quick march you used to do?" The Exo asks in return. "Oh, as much as I loved my family they constricted me, forcing me to be a soldier first woman last." She replies as she sits on the sofa leaning against Scott. He begins to play with her hair, running his fingers through it. She instantly relaxes in his embrace. A Ghost enters the club, "Dinklebot, how's it going?" Scott asks it. "Approximately 75% Scott, don't worry, we'll make you Human again" the ghost answers. Sarah opens her eyes and looks straight at Scott and declares "I love you no matter what, bolts and all. We'll find away, we always do". Oily tears roll down his cold metal cheeks. Just goes to show, even a machine can cry. [spoiler]I got bored needed to do something relatively new and different with an added challenge[/spoiler]
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There was silence. It wasn’t the comfortable, tranquil sort of silence that eases the mind and dips the body into relaxation- it was, rather, the demanding and unnerving quiet that spoke of a tragic and violent past that none wanted to think nor speak of. Ancient whispers of a city that once was could only be heard in the howling of the wind, bringing with it whirls of desert sand that buffeted against hollow buildings. Tattered remnants of flags and bannisters whipped about in the vicious wind, straining against their bindings with each gust. Sand had long since wreaked havoc on the vibrant paints that once decorated the buildings of the city: only chipped remnants and flecks of color could speak of the vivacious life that must have once occupied this place. Shattered shards that clung to the frames of broken windows reflected the high sun, glinting dangerously as they refracted rays about them. Large dunes were already beginning to engulf the city, shorter buildings falling victim to the sandy mountains. Taller structures (apartments? Offices? Were suited men and women bustling through these industrial halls or were families chattering in late afternoons?) stood with a certain air of tortured pride above the swirling sea of sand, cracked concrete and rusted steel fighting like a ship mast against the devastating waves of sand that came with the wind. From the top of one of the larger buildings came a sudden, jolting crash that ricocheted and echoed with a splitting violence across battered stone and bent steel. The wind had dislodged a rather precarious metal beam from a roof, and it clattered down to bury itself in the sand. The metallic ring reverberated for seconds, until the sound was muffled and hen finally absorbed by the engulfing sand. Then there was silence.
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Great stories by everyone.
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1 Reply/[u]Metadata processed[/u]: [b]DROPSHIP INBOUND[/b]_ [i]The combination of inconspicuous and potentially intel-rich, always attracted scouts.[/i] Through the scope of his long-rifle, brewed a vaporous storm of rust and ice. Flattened prone, high winds buffeted his perch in the upper stories of the aeolian canyon walls, an amalgam of urban ruins and the Martian dunes striving to swallow them. The fast approaching midday sun would soon churn up a blinding deluge, yet, save his methodical panning of the scene, he waited unmoving. Endless ripples of iron dust flurried below, spurred by an overbearing gale cutting through the exposed infrastructure of this curious gulch. Catching his eye, a silhouette approached from the West. The chameleon figure scuttled across the sand, swiftly winding through the sparse cover. Carrot and stick, crosshairs led his cull toward the portico of the dilapidated station. The enemy briefly paused to check angles before it broke cover up the short stair, striding for the entryway. Sharply jerking its head to one side awkwardly, the lifeless body collapsed under its own momentum and tumbled into a sprawl. [i]These days, they just ain't making Vanguards like they used to.[/i] He reached to draw, no time to rappel. Startled, perhaps by the reflection in his scope. Standing at the other end of the crumbling level, was the hooded and cloaked scout he had just killed. "Ah-ah," rasped a filtered, chiding tone. "We should get to know each other before dancing, don't you think?" Hammer clicking, the pre-Traveler era .45 whirred. "Information. Now." "Once more, looking in all the wrong places." The Vanguard sauntered forward. "Point me in the right direction." "Join us downstairs for that heart-to-heart, won't you?" The derisive holo flickered out. Taking another step in the darkening haze, the station loomed beyond the precipice, scrutinized by the Vanguard once more.
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I'll just drop mine here even though I missed the deadline by a month. Just thought others might like to see what I'm capable of (btw I did this in the last hour). It is exactly 300 words, including title. [b]Hope Renewed[/b] Humanity fell centuries ago. We lost everything. Now we've been given our chance, and I've seized it with both hands, as many around me have. Some fights should not be fought, but this is not war, this is survival. We have been surrounded for so long; encircled by our tireless enemies. Now it's our turn. Today, I take the fight to them. And I am not alone. As a hunter, I have the responsibility to watch our backs. It is my duty to watch the skies, the ground, and everything in between. The buried city. We come to it at last. Like the rest of humanity, this once-great and beautiful place was downtrodden. In this case, it was the Cabal, may their accursed souls never rest. Humanity and its allies are now pushing out against the darkness. I will do the same here. The buried city, lost and forgotten, its pride and beauty extinguished, will be made new. We will make it so, us guardians of the city; of humanity; of the light in the great void we call space. We will force the Cabal from their rest. They will be driven out like the dogs they are, and we will pursue them tirelessly, for that is our purpose. The red sands of Mars will be red again, and then over again. The Cabal may have driven us from Mars, and even held their ground against other guardians. But they have never fought us of the Vanguard. We, the greatest of the guardians, never fell, have never lost. We persevere and inspire where others fall. We drive the lines of battle. The Fallen fled earth in waves before us, when Mars is red with the blood of the Cabal, they will flee too. We conquer. We are Vanguard.
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It was quiet. The crunch of red glass buried in redder sand sounded like old bones to him. Wilhelm wondered if his forefathers were buried on this cold rock. Scout craft had detected… what had they detected? The signal was not like a human’s nor an invader’s signature. It was like nothing picked-up before. Well, that wasn't true. The Traveler left that same mark on the instruments. But what would a sign like that be doing on the legendary “paradise” that was Mars? In the old human settlement, the Buried City? Kilometers deep inside the labyrinth of crumbling facilities and conduits that once were the life of the planet? He didn't know. This was a world event; something so big that Guardians from across the solar system, even advanced scouts past the world-moons of Jupiter, were coming in for. They had already encountered a Hive assault force, but it was shot-down before they even landed. Reports of Fallen gathering on the other side of the city were confirmed, and a Vex forward party had killed two Warlocks an hour ago. It seemed that all races wanted something here. He followed the massive dents Cabal make in the soft turf. Those led into the old entrance of Mars’s underground, the source of the signal. Twenty Guardians sounded behind him, veteran and geared for anything. A crackle sounded in his helm. “Wilhelm, the city block is secure. It’s time.” Humanity would not lose this lead. Not after losing so many others. Revival was their [i]right[/i], their inevitable destiny. And only a power like that of the Traveler would allow them to live again. “Guardians, move in. The Cabal have kindly opened the way for us.” Moving up the steps, in the blue of alien stationary lights, Wilhelm began his reclamation.
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5 RepliesKurandal's Ghost floated next to him, pulsing with concern. "Sir, I can provide a distraction for you, and give you a 56.71421% chance of escape from the scout." "And have your death on my conscience too? Friq that!" Kurandal exclaimed. He checked the remaining ammo for his assault rifle, [i]Protect Your Friends[/i]. Two clips left... He glanced over the dune at the pacing Cabal that stood between him and the entrance to the city, a desperate plan forming in his head. "G, how’d you like to be bait?" Kurandal skulked along the dunes, approaching the edge of the Buried City. He silently climbed atop high dune, using the sand as a ramp. As the lumbering scout appeared directly below him, Kurandal sprang into the air. "Now, G!" He hissed quietly. Flying over the scout, G released a blinding light just behind the rhino-like alien. At the same instant, Kurandal unleashed a Nova Bomb behind his foe, spraying sand and stone across the alien's back. The Cabal roared with rage, and turned with surprising swiftness, planting his giant shield with a sand-muffled thump as he took aim at G. Kurandal unleashed a full clip from his rifle into the scout's back, ripping through soft, unprotected hide and organs. The Cabal stiffened for a moment, a quizzical grunt leaking from his masked head. The alien slumped to the ground, his blood watering the parched Martian soil. Realizing he'd been holding his breath, Kurandal exhaled a loud profanity. "G, you alright?" "Yes, sir. The scout was not used to aiming at small targets, it appears." “Good.” the warlock replied as he looted the massive alien’s corpse. “Let’s get inside, ASAP! By the Traveler, I hope we run into another fire team soon!” "Very good, sir. It’s always nice to make new friends."
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5 RepliesThe Sun was blazing. The Cabal and Fallen battle overhead as me and my fireteam try to regain our strength. As Eric rushes to heal, we are all in panic as we hear the sound of gunshots and explosions get closer and closer. Louis is dying out, I tell Eric to forget about me. We’ve gotten too far to fail now, too much sweat, too many hours. “I can’t get to him! Louis is going to die!” Erics voice snaps me back to consciences. “Keonte’! If we don’t pass this battlefield we’ll never make it to the waypoint!” I ignore Eric and observe my surroundings. The ruins create great cover but also leave us vulnerable. “Stay here! I have an idea!” I take off and slide under a collapsed wall barely missing a sniper shot. I run through the ruble dodging shot, after shot! Then I find a wide open gap leading to my waypoint. I take a step towards it but I am stopped by the sound of Louis dying out. Louis has saved my skin more times than I can count, I can’t just leave him like this! It’ll be too easy to just leave and leave him to die. I like a challenge and most of all, I can’t leave my fireteam behind! I make my way up the ruble reaching the second floor of the nearly destroyed building. Eric is still slowly healing Louis but can’t do it for long, the Fallen are closing in. I pick off two of the bastards trying to climb their way up to me and ready my sniper. I take out the two generals about 6 feet away from Eric. I couldn’t take them all. I sit and look at my friends getting killed and then look at the waypoint. [i]Decisions, Decisions. [/i]
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3 RepliesEdited by Apotheosis: 7/14/2013 9:22:22 PM[b]Per Audacia[/b] “Al’tan! We’re topside in five! It was a trap!” Logan transmitted. No answer. They sprinted back through the ancient corridors, pursued by guttural howls and the heavy clank of Cabal weaponry. Logan felt a wave of goosebumps, and cried, “Mareck! Not in here!” Mareck laughed as she lobbed a bubbling ball of energy behind them. It exploded. Logan grabbed the warlock and increased his shield buffer. The blast shot them back out into the plaza. The building collapsed in a shriek of twisted metal. Red dust billowed. Mareck stopped laughing. A dozen Legionnaires with their shields and a Centurion formed a semicircle around them. The massive Centurion held a writhing Al’tan in his fist. Logan hardly thought. He tapped his Link and energy coursed through him. He leapt into the air, muscles assisted by the Traveler. He landed with a fist to the ground and [i]pushed[/i]. The ground shuddered and the shockwave cast the Legionnaires into the air. Logan snapped Cheap-Thrills to his shoulder and fired a burst into the Centurion’s head. Before the beast hit the ground, Logan downed two others. Mareck shot arcane bolts over Logan’s shoulder, Cabal died. “Logan!” Mareck cried. The last Legionnaire bashed his shield into Logan’s side. Dazed, Logan looked up as the hulking thing planted a boot on his chest. It held the barrel of his weapon against Logan’s visor. It looked at Mareck challengingly. A [i]crack[/i] echoed through the plaza; Logan embraced death. Then, he opened his eyes. The Cabal was falling, and headless. Al’tan stood, cradling a smoking Cabal weapon. “Let’s not do that aga…“ Logan trailed off. The ground still shuddered. Suddenly, a chasm opened behind them, revealing a stairway into the darkness. Mareck glanced at Logan, laughed, and ran down the stairs. Logan groaned, and they followed.
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[b]A Warm Welcome[/b] Preda leaped from his perch in The Buried City, sliding down a leaning steel beam, kicking up the dust on the ground. He crossed the ruined plaza, heedless to any form of stealth he’d ingrained into his movements seemingly since birth. His target lay on the steps to the ancient subway station, which the red planet had retaken in the centuries of abandonment. “What’s your name?” “Micheck.” Here, up close, Preda could tell Micheck was a Titan. He’d shot a human. “You’re going to be OK. Stay with me.” Preda tried to keep his voice smooth, calm, confident, but with the years he’d spent in the wild, speaking to no one, he was out of practice. “Hale! Hale!” Preda cried. Turning back to Micheck, “It’s all right. He’s a Warlock.” Hale approached, his footsteps like wind brushing the earth. “Traveler!” Hale exclaimed. “I heard the shot. What happened?” “In this storm, I thought he was a Fallen.” “If he was a Fallen, he wouldn’t have been alone.” No doubt grimacing under his faceplate, already channeling the Traveler, Hale knelt to evaluate the Titan. Then Hale stopped, sighed, and stood. “Don’t tell me I killed him,” Preda said. Hale extended his hand down to Micheck. “He’s fine,” Hale said. “You just grazed him. Let’s go, big guy.” Micheck accepted Hale’s hand and rose, suddenly towering. “Honestly,” Hale said, “I don’t know how Hunters like you made it on your own in the wild. Lucky you’re a terrible shot.” “It’s Mars!” Preda said. “Visibility is near zero, and the winds never stop. He didn’t have his IFF activated. It isn’t like you can just turn friendly fire off.” Hale clapped the dust off Micheck’s shoulder armor. “What are you doing here?” “The Vanguard sent me to find you. It’s about the Cabal.” “They sent you alone?” Preda said. Micheck glared at Preda, who increased his distance. “He’s a Titan,” Hale said. “You really just going to trust him?” Preda asked. “He’s a Titan.” Micheck finished ascending the ancient subway station’s steps and stopped at the entrance, turning, beckoning. Preda and Hale followed.
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Edited by DaMaxAxe: 7/15/2013 7:23:28 AMTime “We’re running out.” “Of what?” he asked, although he undoubtedly knew. “You know that as a Mark 18 GHOST, I can process millions of processes a second. Do you know what that means warlock?” I spat sarcastically. The warlock stood, cape fluttering, black in the dark hallways of the Patonis Station. “The time I have left before my oxygen runs out... the five minutes, is a lifetime for you, so you don’t care if I get out in time.” I hummed, pleased, “You know me too well.” “I set the evac beacon, lets go!” “Well at least we found the Golden Age artifact. Oh looks like others picked up your beacon, we have Cabal on approach and ... oh look there’s your time, Vex portals opening outside, we need to leave!” I exited first, shooting an EMP, shutting down the Vex systems, but it was only temporary. The Warlock sprinted outside, and dove behind the concrete blocks that led to a staircase. “How did you do that?” “A sort of... Space Magic. But now, RUN! The Cabal are closing and Vex are recovering!” The Warlock sprinted to the stairwell, firing shots to both sides, but as he ran a plasma bullet hit him in the heart and he fell. “Oh boy,” I said as I self-destructed. In this yellow orb form above the Warlocks body, I could only support his brain for five minutes, if nobody jumpstarted us back up, we would die. “I told you were running out.” At this power, only feelings could be sensed, and I sensed his sadness, then content as he came to terms with his demise. As the battle raged between the Vex and Cabal for the artifact, I heard jet engines approaching, but with only seconds left, there just wasn’t enough time.
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2 RepliesEdited by Decay66: 7/15/2013 2:25:06 AMTitle: Destiny, the Beginning of a Legend I walk through the desert tired and battered by the harsh sands. Is this the end? Has all of my training and sacrifices which led up to the events I know lay before me been for nothing? Memories pass through my mind of my childhood. I was always told that I was meant for greatness and to not give up. Petrified by the thought of failure, I look ahead of me where over a dune I see the outlines of building tops. Hopeful for salvation I crawl up the steep sandy dune. As I reach the peak I feel free, only to fall to my knees in disappointment when I see my “salvation”. An old city now lies before me to which the figurative and literal sands of time have been cruel to. My mind wonders. This time, rather than to the serene memories of childhood, my mind contemplates the many possible circumstances to which this city has fallen. Deserted cars and rusty buildings are all that appear. As I think, my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of shifting sand behind me. As I turn I see a creature unlike any that I have seen before. Apart from two extra arms extending from his side, he was human like in appearance. He carried four swords and I derived from his demeanor that he was there with malicious intent. I drew my pistol from its holster and pulled the trigger. The beast fell down, letting out an eerie sound as it rolled down the sand. I turned, once again facing this vacant city. I now know that this is what my destiny is. For too long the stones of this city have been left unturned. This is where my journey begins.
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I know it's to late but I did this for my creative writing class in my college, after Pathways Out of Darkness vidoc. It's also to long. The One Who Questions Destiny When I saw the trailer of Destiny, The next big game developed by Bungie, I freaked; but a realization came to me What would it really be like Living in that world With all those lingering questions?...: I have seen a lot, but there’s still so much more to discover. My curiosity is overwhelming; I want to know the secrets of our past. I asked myself why everything seems to be against us; Why are we the ones that are forced to be stamped out against this universe? What have we done during our Golden age to deserve this fate? As I explore the ruins of what we were so proud of, I begin to question… I see the beauty of nature… I see how it has grown over our towers… How the sand has mixed with our ships… I have even gotten the chance to see the other planets around us. I can see our destruction and the beauty of our creations. I am very appreciative of the traveler for saving our lives. Very few of us survived when the unknown hit us hard. But, why did it do that? Why did the travelers save us? Why were we crushed? Why are there more that want to destroy us? As I look to see the enemies that probe for weaknesses, I realize, as I look at my friends in their excitement in taking down our opponents, that we are not very different. We are just as cruel. We have as much of a desire to stamp them out as they, towards us. One of the species against us is called the Fallen. We have fallen as well. But have they fallen because of us? I reconstructed what we have built in my mind, I see how we have infected our planet and push back the nature we should share. During our Golden age, were we the bad guys? Were we suppressing everyone else? I questioned my destiny as a Guardian. The Guardian of the last city of humanity! The Guardian that is blessed by the power of our fallen protector, the Traveler. The orb that hangs low and close to our homes, Where it made its last stand, Watching silently for when we need it. Is it observing our behavior? Does it think that we have the potential to change our violent nature? I discovered what type of Guardian I want to be; I want to be an archaeologist, To discover our secret sins. I want to be a peacemaker, To end the fighting. I want to be hope, For a future we can share with nature and all. My friend stared when I lowered my gun. That is when I said it: “I want to change my destiny to making our enemies our friends.” A friend of mine changed and looked at me. He mimicked me lowering the gun. He replied that it was a good dream, But we have to fight to survive. I hope we have the option to change things, But I think we missed our opportunity. We might have a new one. Maybe there’s a way, different from violence, to save our city, To reclaim all that we have lost. I could become legend. But if I try to explore this opportunity, There’s a possibility of an increase in our failure; The last light of civilization will go out! I am the one who questions our destiny, Of being destroyers or peacemakers. I hope we can synthesize nature and technology; That could be the key to our future!
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18 RepliesI know its too late for submissions, but might as well throw my take into the mix. Word count, not including this opener and the title, is at 292. [b]This is the End[/b] I leaned against the door, letting a slow flow of electricity flow back into my plated body. The human equivalent would be the rush felt after heavy exertion. Despite the situation, I smiled to myself. Flesh was weak, while the cold iron would remain strong. The door behind me certainly did. It seemed that the whole damned city was after me. Beyond that door would be a few hundred Cabal, maybe even a thousand. It wouldn't matter when they got through. Even so, I made sure to push back a little more on the door. The longer I survived, the longer those ungrateful sacks of meat downstairs would have to escape. I knew that they wouldn't thank me, possibly not even mourn me. They didn't understand me, those of the City. The humans were the worst, but I was even shunned by my own kind. It wasn't me that was confusing; it was my opinion, my belief, that was intimidating. My view was simple: war is cruelty. The only rules that exist are those you impose upon yourself. I had no rules. That was why I stood while others fell. But that wouldn't happen this time. This was the end. I wasn't giving my life for some grand cause or noble ideal. I was trapped. A group of Guardians was down below. If I took enough of the bastards with me, I'd give them a little more time. Chances were they'd be dead despite my best efforts. But death, at this point, was an exercise in inevitability. As they said back at the Wall, you can either sit there whining, or grab a shovel and start digging. The display in my helmet beeped. I was at full combat capability. Time to die.
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4 RepliesEdited by Sgt Zarathustra: 8/24/2013 6:50:58 PMAlso too late for the contest, but I thought I'd share my two cents. Word count: 283 [b]Ancient Secrets[/b] Sehadrin sifted through the fine red sand. His heart quivered with excitement, but his hands stayed steady. He had searched for this place for countless years. He could wait a little longer. How the device had come to be buried alongside the decaying husk of an ancient maglev node, Sehadrin did not know. Perhaps it had been hidden here after The Fall by one of the city's many inhuman tenants. Perhaps the Traveler had placed it here when it first passed through the solar system centuries ago. Perhaps, as Sehadrin hoped, it had been here when the city was still a thriving hive of humanity, as casually available to his ancestors as the ammunition stores of the City were to the Guardians of his own time. Rumil lowered his rangefinders' binoculars and scowled. “If your artifact is here, Doctor, find it quickly.” The Titan eyed the decaying buildings around them. Those canyon walls sheltered them from the prying eyes of Cabal flyers, but they also hide scores of hostiles. The courtyard was littered with smoking husks of Cabal armor, but Sehadrin and his companions were not invincible. Two of their party had already joined the city's countless ranks of dead. “It's worth the risk,” Sehadrin said, plunging his hands into the cold sand. “The Archive is here. By finding it, humanity's birthright will become ours again.” His hand hit something warm and hard, something neither of the city nor of the Cabal. The sand under him shuddered as the device responded to his touch. Crooked lines radiated out through the sand, and Rumil gripped his rifle cautiously. “Now,” Sehadrin said, “we learn the answers. All of them.”
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2 RepliesEdited by Ethsentray: 7/14/2013 6:16:35 PMMy head rang as I awoke from the fall. My ship was pulled down by a group of Cabal's grapple guns. I saw my white helmet lying beside me. I pulled myself together and reconnected my helmet, heading for the doorway into facility I landed at. Both my sniper rifle and DMR where out of ammo, leaving me with my twelve shot revolver. I started down a hallway filled with empty crates, but then a clang came from the other side. I hid behind a crate and patiently waited. I started to hear footsteps nearing to my very position. A Cabal General walked by me, not even noticing. I came up behind him, and started to unsheathe my knife but the General spun around at the sound slamming me through a wall. The General threw a crate through the wall making himself a hole to walk through. The General started walking towards me and pulled out a machete. I stepped back a bit and he slammed down his shield. I used half my remaining strength to send a nova bomb crashing into his shield, the shield was neutralized, and he had lost his left arm. He at first was stunned, but then became enraged, and charged at me. I barely dodged two swings but then he stabbed me in the stomach, watching my life flash before my eyes, I quickly grabbed my revolver and put three rounds through his skull. The machete was pulled out with his falling body, but I was still going to die, I unhatched my helmet and tossed it aside and saw the light blot out as my consciousnesses went away.
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Edited by Oorslavich: 7/19/2013 11:32:03 AMI'll just leave this here... Two figures strode along the sand encrusted road, parched foliage casting long shadows on the coarse red dust. They had searched the place all day, hoping to find something, anything of value. The pickings had been thin. Slow, steady thumps echoed around a corner, followed by puffs of dust borne by the wind. The two hunters franticly searched their surroundings for cover. The last flicker of dusty cape vanished into the second-story window, just as a trio of Cabal lumbered around the corner, scanning the street down the sights of their weapons. Two claps of thunder rang out, echoing through the dusty cityscape. One cabal fell down clutching its face, trying to stop the controlled environment from escaping its breached atmosphere mask. Another staggered, but the round had missed the vent and impacted harmlessly against the tough helmet. It turned its gaze upward, searching for the source of the attack. As its comrade lay gasping on the ground, the third Cabal sprayed fire in the general direction of the sniper rounds, while opening a radio channel to summon backup. The hunters ducked as a burst of poorly aimed shots ricocheted around them, “Two still alive, transmission detected. This place is about to get lively.” They worked the actions on their snipers and sighted for a second volley. A pair of sharp cracks broke through the sound of the wind, causing the third Cabal to roar and drop its weapon. The second was hit again, in the dent left by the last shot, it fell over backwards – unconscious. Even as they fired, they were slinging their rifles, jumping from the window and running across, slashing at the one that had dropped its weapon and finishing off the other. “Preferred it when it was quiet – nice and peaceful”. Grimly, they counted their ammunition in preparation for the coming storm...
