Hi all, this is because Louis has *finally* created a new picture. Yes, Kallista, it's you.
But first, we are going to just think back a little. Remember back to when i started this blog? And i said that im going to make you all listen to the songs i like some day?
Well guess what. They day has come.
Seeing as how the next part of my fan-fic (Dragona Pine ftw!) isn't complete, i'm going to have to make do with something else.
If you have not read the most recent part of the Fan-fic (Kallista Pendragon), which i know a lot of you haven't, then SCROLL DOWN!!!
So, here we go!
This was originally directed to Kallista, who needed this, but I want EVERYONE to listen to these songs and read what i have written.
EVERYONE....
Inspiration:
It all depends if you already have an idea on where your story is going. In my head, i have already mapped out exactly what is going to happen. I have drafts, and my drafts have drafts, and then i have a timeline and a character bio sheet. A good thing to do for inspiration is to go for a drive. recently, my family went to the park way down by the river in the city. i brought my draft book and sat, watching ordinary people walk by. I would look at some and try to guess what crime they would have committed if they were in my story. I would note all of the little things. A pelican feather in the river, a lone man (this is no joke) wearing a kilt, headphones and rollerskates.
Then, once i got home, i lay down on my bed, listening to music.
The best music, the ones that inspired me the most, are these:
(i expect you to listen to these, you know)
(Song) (Band)
Watercolor-Pendulum
Got2know-Flux Pavillion
Winter Winds- Mumford and Sons
Vietnam-Crystal Castles
This Momentary-Delphic
Star Guitar-Shnichi Osawa
Street Lights-Kayne West
Red (Chasing Shadows Remix)-NiceNoiz
Oh!-Boys Noize
Innocence-Nero
I'm Not Alone-Calvin Harris
Hide and Seek-Imogen Heap
Doubt-Delphic
Distress Signal-Pendulum (You'll all be hearing a lot more about this song in upcoming posts)
The sea is rising-Bliss 'n' Eso
Air Raid-Flux Pavillion (when listening to this song, don't get bored. Wait for the siren at 00:52.)
Anything New-Digitalism
Moonlight-Digitalism
Pogo-Digitalism
(Good songs when writing high octane stuff):
Hold Your Colour-Pendulum
Stress-Justice
I can walk on water, I can fly-Basshunter
Well, there you have it. Listen to them, enjoy them, and if you havn't visited my site in a while, SCROLL DOWN AND READ THE STORY, GORRAM IT!
Kallista Pendragon. A student of most disciplines, this warrior is not to be messed with.
By Louis Bullock
Kallista, I'd like to present to you these two wonderful images, both drawn by the soon-to-be-famous
Louis Bullock. Go forth and share, and show as many people as you can.
Well, im off. My back is just starting to hurt again, and I've got icecream to eat. So g'night and good luck to everyone out there.
my back is caining right now. its 10:00pm and i really should get to bed soon. *epic sigh x2*
First off. I AM SORRY.
My brother could not make the deadline and draw an image of you, Kallista. He had to make it to an important conference (a.k.a party) and so was totally unprepared when he came home at 9:00pm and i told him to draw you. So, on behalf of my brother, your drawing completion deadline has been moved.
Most likely, and when i say this i mean a HUGE possibility, that it will be on FRIDAY. *epic sigh* god, my back hurts.
So maybe 7:00pm, maybe 8. But that's on my watch, of course...
NOW, just because i don't have an image of you, doesn't mean i'm not going to give you a part in the story. :D in fact, Kallista, here's your consolation prize:
STORY:
(i literally just completed this part. I havn't even finished the draft of the next part, so i would expect part 3 on saturday. poss. nxt wednesday. Just a precaution :D)
Kallista Pendragon ducked under the swinging scythe of a cleaver, and then splayed her hands to send the scythe spinning away. Not even pausing to notice his obvious lack of weapons, the grey-suited soldier charged, a fist drawn back. She grabbed the punch and used the cleaver’s own momentum to throw him over her body and onto the ground. Her old judo master would have been proud.
Kallista had studied a vast amount of magic, practicing well to master them. One such example of this was her elemental powers. She had chosen to delve deeper into the earth part of them, finding strength in the land. Closing her eyes now and gripping the arm of the cleaver before her, she drew the rock from the ground and covered him until he was nothing but a statue. The effect would end in a few hours, leaving the stunned cleaver alive and well. Satisfied, she turned around, and a fist collided with her face and the darkness came.
When she opened her eyes, she saw the one called Necros battling her assailant. He pulled out an eccentric looking gun and fired at the cleaver, point blank. As the cleaver fell, Necros bent down and shut his eyes, muttering some unknown prayer. Then he stood and grabbed Kallista’s hand, dragging her to her feet. “Come on!” he shouted, as her hearing returned. “We have to go!”
They ran out of the alley way, only to be confronted by more cleavers. “Skyril,” muttered Mary. “This would be a really good time to…”
“I’m on it!” said Skyril, hand outstretched. Simultaneously, every cleaver fell stumbling, trying to rip off their helmets. One of the cleavers managed to and Kallista saw that beneath their eyelids was an abnormal white light. They clawed at their eyes as she ran to catch up with the group. She sprinted just behind them, feeling her lungs burn. She saw herself falling behind as they raced through the Japanese streets. I’m not built for this, she found herself thinking. I’m a sixteen year old, for God’s sake!
But she wouldn’t let herself be seen as a novice in her friend’s eyes. Kallista pushed herself, and soon they emerged out onto a road, just in time to see a skeleton and a barber hopping into a van.
“Oh,” said Skulduggery. “Hello…”
“Hello!” replied Mary brightly, and punched him in the jaw.
Necros slipped on a silver bangle, touching three symbols on it. More parts flowed out from the first, extending outwards and enclosing his whole arm in armour. On his hand he now wore a silver gauntlet, shining in the afternoon light. Kallista watched him slash through Skulduggery’s jacket, scraping across his ribs. The skeleton grunted, and Ghastly frowned. “Hey,” he said. “I made that suit…”
The skeleton detective’s gun flashed out, and he rested the barrel on Kallista’s forehead. Everyone froze.
Her heart pounded, and distantly, beyond its loud throbbing, she heard Skulduggery talk.
“And now the tables have turned. I’ve had a really bad day, so there’s no reason why I won’t pull this trigger. Now, if you would all kindly slip on these shackles I have waiting for you, I will put the gun away.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Skyril.
“Try me.” He thumbed the hammer.
No-one moved. Dragona opened his mouth to speak and Skulduggery pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked. Kallista stared at the empty barrel and blinked. Skulduggery pulled the trigger once more, just to make sure, then shrugged. “Damn,” he said, sliding it back in its holster.
Ghastly shook his head. “You wasted all of your bullets trying to shoot Dusk, and even then you missed him.”
“Ah well,” said the detective. “Back to basics.” Fire leapt into his hand.
“You do know we outnumber you six to one?” questioned Kallista, her heart rate finally returning to normal.
“Yeah. But we’ve got reinforcements.”
“Where are they?”
Silence. “They’re coming.”
“Can they get here in thirty seconds? Because that’s when we’re going to be riding off in that wonderful van of yours.” said Skyril.
He paused. “Ah, no.”
“Good,” she said, and blinded Ghastly. Skulduggery threw his fire ball at Kallista, and she dodged to the side. She stood, shadows curling around her gloved hands. The gloves themselves were a design stolen from the NecromancerTemple, when Kallista used to go there. Then she realised how much time she was wasting waiting for the end of the world, and she quit, taking the knowledge she had learnt and the black gloves with her. Plus, she hated those clerics. It was always Death Bringer this and end of the world that.
She swept her arms and a wave of darkness slammed into Skulduggery and Ghastly, sending them flying down the road. They piled in to the van, driving off.
“Well,” noted Dragona. “That went well.”
“Yep,” said Necros. “In one day, we were double crossed, attacked, almost arrested and held at gunpoint. What a great day.”
“Wait-” Skyril looked around the van. “Where’s Bridget?”
All was quiet. Kallista spoke up. “You don’t think she’s…dead?”
“No,” breathed Mary. “We would know by now. She’s probably just…just…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She couldn’t. Everyone just sat there, heads bowed and eyes wide. None of them spoke, because, quite frankly, they couldn’t.
*****
The Japanese warehouse was old and unused. Crate upon crate were stacked haphazardly, filled with forgotten machinery and packing foam. They wandered past the boxes and finally found a good enough place to hold out. Kallista helped light a small fire, then jumped the crates, climbing until she found the highest point. She slipped on her Skull Candy headphones and scrolled down until she found Watercolour by Pendulum. Instantly, the lyrics began to swim back and forth within her mind.
When I'm falling down
Will you pick me up again?
When I'm too far gone
Dead in the eyes of my friends
Will you take me out of here?
When I'm staring down the barrel
When I'm blinded by the lights
When I cannot see your face!
She gathered her kimono around her and let herself doze, listening to the song on repeat.
Kallista woke with a start. She had heard a noise, far off. She sat up, curious to see what had woken her.
She heard the noise again, off to her left. She read the air with her fingers. Damn, she thought, scanning the warehouse quickly. How the hell did they find us?
She spotted them, a small group of dark figures moving through a gap in the wall. They moved quietly and gracefully, using hand movements and signs copied from the military. The last person walked in, his hands to his head. Finbar Wrong, identified Kallista. Of course.
The intruders crept silently along, splitting up to find her friends. She needed a weapon. The only one she had were her necromancer gloves, but she had left them in the car.
“Damn,” she muttered quietly, then looked around for another way to the vehicle other than the door. She saw the skylight above her and got to work fiddling with the lock. She climbed onto the roof, unsteadily crouching there.
Kallista slipped and fell, sliding along the slanted roof. She struggled as she neared the edge, realising that she was going way to fast. There was no-way she could just slide off that roof without breaking her neck.
“Ah, to hell with it,” she cursed, pushing at the air. Her body flung off of the roof, arcing silently through the night sky. Then gravity took hold and the moolit ground rushed to meet her. She used the air to cushion her fall, then scrambled up and ran to the van. The doors were locked. She almost screamed in frustration, but kept her cool. Her hands touched the ground and the earth seemed to latch onto them, covering her fist completely in rock. She gave her arm a couple of try-out swings, and then smashed it into the window. The glass shattered and she focused on ‘shedding’ the rock so that it fell to the ground.
She could see her gloves sitting on the back seat, and she reached inside…
Her kimono’s long sleeves snagged on a piece of glass, still attached to the frame of the window. She tugged at it, and was hoping her friends were alright when she saw movement in the reflection. With milliseconds to act, she grabbed the gloves, flinging them out of the van and kicking out behind her randomly. She heard the kick connect and the attacker grunted and rolled as Kallista spun, flame in each hand. It was only then with this light that Kallista saw who it was.
“Valkyrie?” she asked, holding the flame closer.
“Kallista?” came the reply.
For a split second, they relaxed in the company of each other. Then there was a scream from the warehouse; the fight had begun.
“I need those gloves,” Kallista told Valkyrie. “Right now.”
“I’m sorry Kallista. I…” Valkyrie hesitated. “Why’d you have to go do it? You could have stayed as far away from them as possible. You didn’t need to get caught up in this. I…I tell you what. Because we’re friends, I’ll give you one chance. Walk away now, please.”
There was another scream. “I’m sorry, Valkyrie. But we both know I’m not going to do that.”
Valkyrie sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, Kallista. But you leave me no choice. I guess I’ll see you in jail.” She raised her hand and the air around Kallista’s head disappeared. She had mere seconds before she’d become unconscious.
Her gloves lay by Valkyrie’s feet. She devised a plan, just as the darkness started closing in. She hated that feeling. When she had to gasp for a breath that she knew wasn’t there. It reminded her faintly of a dying fish, unable to breath without water in its gills.
She took hold of the earth beneath the gloves with her elemental skills, manipulating it as best as she could. She yanked her now-numb arm back, spiking the ground and shooting the gloves at Kallista. She slipped one of them on, not feeling the cold of night anymore. Valkyrie just stood there and frowned as Kallista swiped with her hand, and the darkness rained upon her.
Instantly, Kallista’s breath returned, and she crouched there, breathing heavily. She glanced at Valkyrie’s crumpled form, feeling an ounce of guilt, and then got up and ran.
Her friends were in trouble, and she wasn’t about to let them down.
Hello, and welcome once more. Yeah, i guess u didnt expect to see me here, now did u? Well, im back for a bit. So ill post this and then post more on Tuesday. Probably another post on Wednesday, and Friday too.
Bridget Whiplash. For some, the name is a threat, and to others, it's just the name of someone they haven't met yet. Nonetheless, it strikes fear into the hearts of even the most confident fighters. I hope your all glad she's on our side...
By Louis Bullock
Lizzy, it's your picture now, do whatevs. Louis told me to tell you that he didn't want to do any drawing today, but i said that i was posting the next part with you in it and i thought it was appropiate so i said bad luck, now DRAW, GORRAM IT!
I just want to say, in my view, the whip REALLY DOESN'T look like a whip. Louis says that that is how a whip looks like, so i should shut up and continue writing my story.
He has a point....
STORY:
Getting on the plane had been relatively simple. Jodi Harte had distracted the guards with a quick game of ‘toss the coin’ while the rest of the group had shuffled through a gap, avoiding the metal detectors and hiding their weapons under their coats. Of course, the guards all of betted on heads or tails, and so they were all shocked when the coin landed on neither, balanced vertically on the little rim. Jodi had even let them toss the coin a few times on the counter as well, just to make sure that it wasn’t rigged. What they didn’t see was Jodi’s hand manipulating the air around the coin under the table, making sure it always landed on the side with the least bets placed. Then she walked away, placing a now-full purse into her white skinny trousers.
“That was a cruel trick,” Bridget told her, handing back her Sai swords, wrapped up in a piece of cloth. Jodi just shrugged and kept walking. Well, I guess she’ll learn, thought Bridget as she took a seat on the plane in front of Jodi. One of these days, anyway…
The plane was filled with state-of-the-art technology. Everything from gaming consoles and MP3s to laptops with Internet. Bridget selected a Vaio laptop from the rack beside her and turned it on. While she waited for it to load, her grey-green eyes surveyed her surroundings. Behind her, Jodi had finally fallen asleep clutching an ace of spades. In front of her was the one called ‘Necros’ who had joined them outside the airport. He had said less than six words in the past two hours. He had a presence around him, much like her. She didn’t know much about him, and he didn’t seem to be telling. But that was OK. Bridget liked it better that way.
When the laptop was up and ready, she moved a delicate finger across the mouse pad, selecting an internet messaging program and entering a number.
All the way back in Ireland, Israel’s phone buzzed and he picked it up. He ordered another glass of beer, checking that Lewis hadn’t left the Templar Bar. He squinted at the screen just as a message appeared, signed by Bridget.
What else did u c? It said.
What? He texted back.
The vision. I kno u saw somthng else, Israel.
Israel hesitated. He hadn’t planned on telling anyone this. He wasn’t sure how the group would take it. But he couldn’t hide it now.
We failed. Evry pth we chose, Lewis blew. We all die + u kill me.
Bridget Whiplash stared at the message on the screen. Her eyes were reading the words, but her mind just couldn’t comprehend. She wouldn’t do that to him; he must be wrong. But deep down she knew he wasn’t.
Dtails? She sent back.
Fuzzy. Solomon Wreath involved, Lewis blows, u turn vamp.
That y im in Japan?
Yes. Had 2 get us far apart as poss.
Understandable.
Idk if we changed it tho.
We’ll just have to find out then, finished up Bridget, closing the lid and returning the laptop to it’s rightful place. She laid back in her seat, her mind a mess of thoughts. She wouldn’t kill Israel. It wasn’t true…
Jodi sat back, satisfied with what she had learnt. With Bridget now gazing out her window and un-aware that her conversation had been watched by a skilled con-woman, Jodi set to work. She took out her own laptop from the shelf beside her and opened the messenger program. She typed in the two numbers written on her palm, sending them the same message.
Got information. The message read.
Two replies came. One was from the vampire Dusk, and the other from Skulduggery Pleasant.
Both sent a reply that said: Gud. How much $?
Lots, she wrote back. Lots and lots…
They got off the plane without incident, and Jodi did the same trick to the guards while the rest of the group passed by unnoticed. When they got outside, Jodi stiffened.
“What’s up?” asked Skyril.
“I think I heard something…” Jodi frowned, and then her face brightened. “Over here!” she called, jogging into an alleyway. Bridget followed Jodi there, the other’s not far behind. But when she turned the corner, Jodi wasn’t there. The alleyway was completely empty.
Too late, she realised it was a trap, as a figure dropped from the sky, landing on her. Bridget snarled and threw the figure onto the ground. It rolled, pulling out two Sai swords from it’s belt. “Miss me?” said Jodi, a smile on her face.
Cleavers dropped from all around, surrounding her friends and her in the alleyway. At an unknown signal, they converged and attacked.
Bridget sprung and clawed at Jodi, trying to a grip around her throat.
“I didn’t know being a traitor was apart of conning,” hissed Bridget as she slashed Jodi across the face with her long nails.
“Nah,” replied Jodi, wiping the blood off her face. “Only being better than a vampire at fighting.”
“We’ll see about that!” said Bridget, throwing Jodi up against the alleyway wall. She went for a punch and Jodi ducked, bringing one of her Sai swords towards Bridget’s face. There was a blur, and the blade was flung out of Jodi’s hands. Bridget tripped her easily.
“You’ll never win, child,” she said, keeping Jodi down with the toe of her boot.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jodi said, summoning flame in her hands. “I think I’m doing just fine.” She thrust her arms backwards, igniting both of Bridget’s legs. Bridget jumped back, patting down the flames. She looked up just in time to see Jodi propelling herself up onto the roof, her arms spread wide.
“Damn,” cursed Bridget, leaving her friends to deal with the cleavers. She jumped back and forth between the alleyway walls, finally reaching the lip of the roof and pulling herself over.
Jodi was in front of her, running across the rooftop. She was fast, that girl, remarked Bridget as she sprinted towards her. But not fast enough…
Bridget saw Jodi reach the edge and jump the gap landing safely on the other side. Moments later Bridget herself followed suit, clearing it easily. Jodi didn’t even spare a glance to see where Bridget was. She actually thought she had a chance.
She obviously wasn’t thinking.
*****
The gap between them became shorter and shorter, and soon Bridget was metres away from tearing Jodi apart.
Then Jodi disappeared. It took a moment for Bridget to realise that she had dropped down a gap and into another alleyway. Growling at her own incompetence, Bridget followed, landing gracefully next to a dumpster. She ran out of the alleyway and turned left. But two steps in the direction of Jodi, Bridget froze.
There, standing in the middle of the road was Jodi, panting slightly. But Bridget’s eyes weren’t fixed on her.
Beside her, hunkering down on the grey asphalt, was possibly the only person who was fast enough, strong enough and good enough to catch her.
“Good evening, Bridget Whiplash,” said the vampire Dusk, showing off his pointed teeth. “Fancy seeing you here. Well, I’ve been paid by this wonderful woman to take you down in any means I like. So, before we start: Are you going to come quietly?”
Bridget stared. The fact that Dusk hadn’t sprung and attacked already and was wasting time with stupid talk meant that in his mind, she was already dead.
Bridget didn’t hurl insults or utter an oath. She simply turned and ran.
And Dusk bounded after her.
The street was empty, so Bridget pulled out her bullwhip and cracked it above her head. It wrapped around an old shop sign hanging above a doorway and she used it to swing up onto the roof of a truck parked by the side of the road. She ran the length of it, hearing Dusk’s steps right behind her. Then at the last moment, instead of jumping back to the ground below, she dived in through a window of the building parallel to her.
Dusk cursed behind her, then followed. Bridget dodged left and right, using the furniture to her advantage. She passed the kitchen to where an old Japanese woman was cooking food on the stove. The woman shouted angrily at her, but Bridget was already moving on to the balcony. She jumped the gap and landed on the other balcony, running through that house as well.
She had lost sight of Dusk, and a small part of her thought she was going to make it. She mentally slapped herself and that part of her shrivelled up and died. She was only buying time. Sooner or later, he would find her.
She came up to the next balcony and leaped across it. She caught sight of Dusk and she started. How the hell did he get up there? She thought as his slender build cleared the rooftop gaps above her. She changed tactic, dropping to the streets below. But Dusk was two steps in front of her, already landing lithely at one end of the street.
She did a 180° and got three steps before she saw them.
The skeleton detective came first, gun in one hand, flame in the other. Beside him was Ghastly Bespoke, fingers curled into fists. On the other side of Skulduggery was a young man with impossibly styled hair. Bridget didn’t know him, nor did she really care.
“We’re not interrupting something, are we?” asked Skulduggery, levelling his gun at Bridget’s head. “Some crazed, demonic vampire ritual where you run across rooftops every fifth moon in Japan? No? Good.” He fired two shots, each in rapid succession, one at Dusk, one at Bridget. The bullets whizzed past their heads, a hair’s breadth away. Dusk didn’t flinch whatsoever. Bridget did.
“Those were warning shots. Recently, these are becoming more and more frequent. But I won’t be making a habit of it. Bridget Whiplash, seeing as how you haven’t actually killed anyone yet, we’ll only be taking you into custody. Dusk, sorry, but no cigar. We’re going to have to kill you.”
Dusk shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Bridget couldn’t believe this was happening. Their plan had fallen apart so easily. She needed to escape, to regroup with her friends. To her right was an open doorway. She was less than two metres away from it.
Skulduggery was talking, saying something along the lines of You have the right to remain silent. Her gaze drifted to the boy with porcupine hair. His eyes were trained on her, waiting for her to try and escape. She didn’t disappoint.
The moment her foot moved in the direction of the doorway there was a small pop and he was standing beside her, arms outstretched. Bridget swung, snarling, but he was already gone. Arms grabbed her from behind and then her world spun. When she looked back up the Japanese skies of bright blue had been replaced with the dark grey heavens of Dublin. Distantly, she heard the chink of handcuffs, but she was unable to stop it; her mind was still fuzzy from the teleportation.
“You alright, Fletch?” said a voice, and Bridget turned her head to the source. The boy with wild hair nodded back to a dark haired girl, the one who had spoken. She turned to Bridget, smiling. “You must be Bridget Whiplash. I’m Valkyrie Cain,” she said, dragging Bridget to her feet. “Welcome to Ireland.”
All of a sudden, Bridget’s mind cleared. She was back in the same country as Israel.
No, she thought in despair. We didn’t change the future, we just made it true. No, no, NO!
“Nighty-night,” said Valkyrie, and something collided with the back of Bridget’s skull. All she could think of was that she had failed her friends.
Well, here we are again. I have less than 3 minutes to write something quick and tehn im off.
Well, here's quick:
it was the last day of school for term 3 today, which means nxt 2 weeks are holidays wich means that hopefully i will be able to catch up on a helluva lot of writing, which means that u guys will enjoy this more.
i have collected names for louis to draw, but if you were too late to sign up you can still post ur name (only) in the comment section of this post and i will look for ur bio on Lizzy's Biorama. If u dont know who lizzy is, u should look around. She's everywhere, i swear...
Now, this is the END OF THE PROLOGUE. Next i will be posting Part 1, which the main character is Bridget Whiplash.
BUT! Just because the story is based around her character for this part, YOU CANNOT JUST SKIP IT. To fully understand my masterpiece, u NEED TO READ IT ALLLL!!!! When it's your turn, you can revel in the glory and so on, but until then, READ THE STORY, DAMMIT.
Just a gorram precaution.
Well, that wasnt that fast so yeah. Also, i will not be posting over the next few days,because my internet will be down. Give it until, say, WEDNESDAY 29th of September. Then i will post a new part.
ALSO, I won (or at least i think that's what the letter said) the Annual Spring Poetry Competition, which is actually a big deal. Out of all of South Australia, i think.....
Either that, or im just invited. Fill u all in on details later.
STORY!
*plus* this is not a slice from the end or whatevs. this is no spoiler, just read it, k?
The city was black and dead. The blast had killed so many, and the power surge that followed corrupted thousands more. Survivors stumbled through the wreckage, past the rock statues and flaming bodies. Darkness seeped through the city.
Solomon Wreath was one of those survivors, though barely. He was still affected by the surge, yet for some reason it was taking it’s time with him, rather than ending it quickly.
He tripped time and time again, and then he would scramble to his feet and run. The shadows, the ones that he had once created, were after him. The death in the city did not help either. That, plus the power boost, had made them almost impossible to evade. He knew deep down that he was almost done for. He would tire, or injure himself, and then it would all be over.
He ran into a building, taking the stairs two at a time. He reached the roof and shut the door behind him. The shadows bashed against it, longing to reach their victim. He backed away, stepping up onto the edge of the roof. He had a perfect view of the destruction that had taken place in the city.
Far off, he could still see the flashes of light as an elemental sorcerer tried and failed to stop himself from burning up. His screams echoed loudly and reached Solomon’s ears. He didn’t care. There was no-way he could have stopped it anyway.
The door was blasted off it’s hinges and the shadows seeped towards him. Wreath turned and faced them, holding out his hand. Using what little hold he had over them, he created a boundary, stopping them in their tracks. The shadows paused, unable to move. Then they stopped faking and darted towards him and real fear was in his eyes. He stepped lightly off of the roof, falling to the streets below. It was a race; would he die painlessly or would the shadows get to him first?
His world spun and he saw grey clouds and burning wreckage, and the shadows speeding towards him.
Yes, he thought. I’m going to die, but at least I will not have to suffer painfully.
He would have made it. Had the shadows not been affected by the surge, he would have touched the ground first and his life would have ended quickly. He forgot this, so it came as a complete surprise when the shadows grabbed him metres from the ground and started peeling the skin from his face. He screamed, but didn’t try to stop them.
What could he have done, anyway?
Israel woke with a start, and was comforted to see that he was no longer in a world full of death and destruction.
His eyes focused and he saw his friends around him, and he tried what he thought was a believable smile. Weakly, he sat up, and Lewis Ryker removed his hand from where it had been gripping Israel’s arm. Israel noticed Lewis’ forehead was slick with sweat. He waited until he until he had caught his breath, then asked “Are you OK?”
Lewis shook his head and banged the doors of the van open, vomiting on the pine needles outside. Everyone took a step back and Mary Hiashi turned away in disgust as he vomited again. “I’m sorry,” he spluttered, wiping his mouth. “It took everything I had to boost you and not the whole world.”
“How was it?” asked Kallista Pendragon.
“A bloody mess! I almost ended the world, girl!” Lewis ranted. But Kallista’s eyes were fixed on Israel.
“Israel?” she questioned in a small voice. Lewis stopped talking.
“It was-” Israel paused, noticing that all eyes were upon him. Not all of them had been able to fit in the van, so some peeked in from the back. “exhilarating,” he finished. “It was like I could have reached into the lives of someone standing on the other side of the earth, and then read their future for the next hundred years.
Nicolette Croga stepped back, shocked. No wonder the Sanctuary was after Lewis.
“Did we get what we wanted?” said Mary.
“Oh yes. There is someone in Japan who knows of cure. Dragona, Jodi, Kallista, Skyril, Mary, Bridget and someone called Necros will go and search there. I just need to gather my thoughts and then I will have the address.”
“There’s a cure? And not just a bullet to the head?” said Lewis.
Israel nodded and he saw Lewis’ eyes widen.
“Wait, did you say someone called Necros?” Skyril frowned.
“Yeah,” answered Israel. “I couldn’t seem to see what he looks like. You know him?”
“Know him?” She laughed. “He’s my cousin, Israel. I’ve known him for years. Remember?”
Everyone shook their heads. “No,” said Bridget, inspecting her long nails. “I for one have never heard of this ‘Necros’.”
“Really?” Skyril looked around at the group. “You know, worked up in Switzerland with Anarchy Rose? That is, before she was kicked out of there…”
All was silent. Then Darkane raised her hand. “Oh, I know her!”
Skyril muttered ‘finally’ and Darkane continued.
“But wait-isn’t she a book?”
“No,” said Jodi, rolling her eyes, “that’s ‘Epiphany with Foes.’ Idiot.”
Darkane lowered her hand and sank low into her seat.
“Anyway,” came Israel’s voice and everyone looked back. “The rest of us-Aquila, Skylara, Lewis, Sarthacus, Bridget, Nicolette and I-will stay here, and hope to find a good place to hide.”
“Alright then,” said Mary. “It’s settled. We should catch a plane as soon as possible. Maybe even this afternoon. I can’t wait to visit Japan again.”
“Yeah, and I’ll call Necros and tell him what’s happening. Too bad Anarchy isn’t in town, they always work well together,” added Skyril.
Around the group, there was a small sense of accomplishment. They finally had a plan. About damn time, too, thought Israel, climbing into the front seat and putting the van into gear.
So far, he hadn’t told anyone about what he had seen just before he woke up. He wasn’t planning to, either.
I mean, just think. How would you cope if you were told the end was coming and no-one could stop it?
As you can see, mention to the character Anarchy Rose and Switzerland, so yeah. It's a cool OC, Lizzy.
I had this really crummy ending to the prologue, something along the lines of "and he put the car into gear and tehy drove off into the beggining of a new story," but man that sucked so i replaced it with a reminder that the end is coming. Yep, totally not cheesy. And original too. Yep....
Skyril and Alexzz! i hope you allow me to make u 2 cousins! it was the best case scenario for an intro too u, Necros.
Ahh stuff it. I seriously have been trying to put this off for ages, but to hell with it all, Skuldrenaline (the feeling i get when i read/write skulduggery pleasant books/fanfictions) is coursing through my system. People of the 'verse (as Kaylee would say) i'd like to present to you all:
Israel Elysium.
Leader. Fighter. And a Gorram SP hero.
By Louis Bullock.
(The brother of ~Hellboy~, who at this time, would not like to reveal his first name. He likes the whole "alternate personality" thing...)
This, (now Hellboy speaking) is a 'rough' color scheme as my brother calls it, and if u look closely u can see minor mishaps. He said that he could do much better, it's just that now, he cant be stuffed. And that's no understatement.
This took him around 15 minutes for the drawing, and 10 minutes for the background/details/effects.
The glowing around his hand and in his eye represent his future reading powers <reaching into the future, seeing things before they happen>
Here is the orginal:
It's so damn cool.
Check out his deviant art at:
http://renegadesoldier.deviantart.com/
seriously, if you dont check it out, i will find you. and then drag you to your computer and make you check it.
Just a precaution.
Now, now. Louis can do a picture of all of you, granted you want this. He really needs lots of projects to pass his time, so this is perfect for him.
BUT if you want to have a picture done, you will post ONLY your OC's name in the comment section, and then i will visit Lizzy's Bio-rama Blog (http://thespotforbios.blogspot.com/) and find your information there.
(lizzy, you owe me. this is my little 'tourist attraction' scheme to get more people on your site.)
To become an author of 'Bio-rama' to post your bio you need to send a message to Lizzy by clicking on her icon and sending. If there is no 'send message' link, you have to click the 'send friend invitation' button. Then, in the friend invitation simply write that you want to become an author and viola. Instant email.
Yep, that was a long message. Now, for the love of all that is Gorram Derektastic, POST A COMMENT!!!!!
A mention to Lenka's story is in here. Just look for the first part of talk between Skyril and Jodi.
Anyway, this is Part 2 out of three for the epilogue. Then the real story begins.
The bullet was instantly whipped away, and Israel never saw it touch the ground. It wasn’t the bullet that he was waiting for, and he braced himself as the wave of blue energy erupted from the barrel of his gun. The energy, faced with no-where to go but the ground, acted as a mini-explosion, sending the van hurtling over the car blockade. It glided for a while, and then arced dangerously down towards the road.
“Ah shi-” the van smashed onto the asphalt, cutting off Israel’s voice. They drifted side to side as he struggled with the wheel, trying to straighten their path. He finally swung it back into line, put it into gear, and drove off, leaving the blockade far behind them.
Their footsteps crunched on the pine needles beneath them, alerting each other of their presence. There was no need for stealth, yet one of them was a shadow through the trees, and the other’s glowing yellow eyes stayed in the safety of the bushes.
Overall, there was ten of them, all called to the same place, all exceptionally good fighters. They knew each other from legends and from stories around the campfire. They were the other team, the separate division, called upon when the skeleton detective wasn’t available. Six elementals, two adepts, one shapeshifter and a vampire. It was a good team.
As they got closer to the silver van and the man in the jacket leaning against it, they prepared themselves for the upcoming ordeal. Yes, they had been asked in a time of need from this person, but they still had a chance to turn back and walk away. No-one did. Israel respected that.
They stopped four metres away from him, and only then did Israel stand properly. The shadow in the trees dropped from the trees, smoothing out her ninja outfit. The young woman beside her, a con-artist with dual Sais tucked in her belt. She scowled at the dramatic appearance. Then the creature with yellow eyes emerged from the scrub and then she really jumped back in fear. The wolf kept padding along, and then it’s yellow eyes turned silver and it’s pelt was replaced with jeans and a black jacket. Her ruff turned into brown hair that fell down to her human shoulders. “So,” asked Skylara Wolfbane, now fully formed. “What’s up?”
“Yeah,” added Jodi Harte, presumably recovered from her fright. “I got people to con, and I don’t have time to stand around doing nothing.”
A young woman with purple streaks in her hair spoke up. “Hey,” she said to Jodi. “Didn’t I try to arrest you once?” A few heads turned. They hadn’t heard from Skyril Oblivion in years.
Jodi bit her lip. “Well…um…”
Mary Hiashi, the ‘shadow’ from the trees, pulled out a mini book written in Japanese and started turning the pages. She couldn’t care less for pointless banter. On the other side of the clearing, Kallista Pendragon slipped Skul-Candy headphones in her ears.
“Would you two just shut up?” said Nicolette Croga, and all of a sudden there was a knife in her hand.
“Put it down, Nicolette,” said Israel, trying and failing to regain control of the situation. An eagle swooped in, landing on the bonnet of the van. It morphed into Aquila, and she laid back against the windscreen. “The area’s all clear, Israel,” she said, drinking in the sunshine. “And why are this lot making so much noise?”
Before Israel could answer Skylara butted in. “Ah, so you’re the newbie who calls herself a shapeshifter. I knew you’d look stupid, but I could never imagine this.”
Aquila frowned. “Hey, watch it. I bet I’m smarter than you. And way more experienced.”
“You delude yourself, child,” Skylara seethed. “I am more powerful than you could ever imagine.”
“Oh yeah? Your main form is a wolf, for God’s sake. I mean, anyone could do that. In fact, wolves are like puppies. Positively cuddly.”
In a flash, Skylara’s wolf form sprung through the air, colliding with Aquila. She morphed into a fox, and the two animals growled at each other.
Dragona Pine, who had been staying out of the meeting until now, stepped forward with a fistful of flame. The man next to him, Sarthacus Bolt, held out his arm and Dragona hit an invisible wall. “Stop,” he said. Dragona just turned around angrily, and Darkane Claw fell to Sarthacus’ defence, drawing two long blades from their scabbards. Things were on the edge of chaos.
There was a large crack and everyone froze. Bridget Whiplash stood in the middle of the clearing, bullwhip in hand. She cracked it again, and slowly but surely, weapons were sheathed and flames extinguished. Bridget had that effect on most people.
All present could see the deep, angry red Bridget’s eyes were. Then, in a voice as soft as silk, she spoke.
“Please,” she said, her eyes burning fiercely. “Shut the hell up. Israel, if you would like to continue?”
She moved to stand next to him, glaring at them all. Kallista stuffed the headphones hurriedly in her pocket and Mary closed her book. Aquila got up, dusting herself off, and muttered something that sounded remarkably like ‘twitch’ in Skylara’s direction.
“Alright! Well, before we start ripping each other up like before, I need your help.” Israel had resumed talking and everyone looked at him. “As of today, I have been cast an outlaw for rescuing and holding a wanted person from the Sanctuary. So if you do agree to help me, technically that makes you outlaws as well. Any one of you can leave. I won’t think any less of you.”
No-one left. A slight breeze rustled the branches of the overhanging trees.
“Good. Because, to tell you the truth, I would have thought the person who left was a coward. No offence.”
“What I want to know,” asked Bridget, her eyes now-thankfully-returning to their grey-green colour. “Is why you have a man sitting behind your car.” She sniffed the air. “No, wait. A scruffy haired man.”
“Ah, well, you see-”
“I’m not scruffy!” came a voice from the back of the van. Lewis Ryker stepped out, his arm’s folded and his hair as wild as ever. “It’s-exciting, is all. And…cool.”
“This is Lewis Ryker,” said Israel, his head in his hands. “This is why I need your help.”
Skyril watched as Lewis swaggered over to Mary, a look in his eye. Then he snagged his foot on a root and fell face first in the mud.
“With him?” Skyril said. “I think you’re gonna need a lot more help than us…”
I just want to say, before all of you go crazy and ask where the hell you are in this part, well, no-one except Israel (my character) and Aquila Felis are in this part.
YES, i can understand why u are screaming in rage right now, but i had to have the first part start off like this. The whole point is that i'm not going to be doing little things and ignoring everyone. instead, i will be doing a bit from everyone, enough so that evry person is included.
the reason why Aquila is in this first part is that even tho Kallista posted her bio first and Aquila second, i still had to think of a power for Kallista. And Aquila as a shapeshifter fits right into the first few bits. And then after i had started writing, Skylara said that she was a shapeshifter as well. that just means that later on there will be a lot of conflicts between them, backstabs etc.
NOW. On to the story:
Israel Elysium leant against the bus stop sign, glad that the bus station had a huge veranda. He wrapped his coat tighter around him, fighting the cold that winter brought.
He drew in a great breath and blocked all distractions from himself. Navigating the depths of his mind, he found what could be described as stairs to an old and forgotten attic. He ‘climbed’ the stairs and entered the haven of magic locked deep within the fortress that was his brain. Releasing his breath, he focused, reaching out into the future. He read his own, saw what he had to do, and sighed. Why was he always the one to help those without his foresight? He knew deep down that he could ignore these people if he wanted to, but trouble seemed to follow those around him. Speaking about trouble…
The young child stomped across the bus lane, to the other side, and back again. He narrowly missed bus’s fifty times his size, yet still walked on, overconfidence in his stride. The boy’s parent, an old mother who sat at the bench smoking, saw him and ignored the fact that her son was in danger.
Israel read the future, just to be sure, and then intercepted the child from certain death.
“Stop,” said Israel, grabbing the boy’s shoulders. The mother was looking in the other direction. But Israel had timed it perfectly and she would not look around until he was gone.
“Why?” replied the boy. “It’s fun.”
“See what I see, and then you’ll understand,” said Israel, and he felt the magic course down his arms and travel to the boy’s mind. The child stood back instinctively, but it was too late. The vision of a bus smashing into his body replayed itself dozens of times inside his little head, just as Israel had intended. It was one of the most likely possibilities, Israel thought as he stood and walked away. The mother looked up just in time to see her own son trip over his feet and land face down on the sidewalk. A huge bus, the one that could have ended him, rushed past, and the boy stumbled over to the seat, crying.
There was a scream and instantly Israel’s hand went to the double barrel sawn-off shotgun in the leg strap under his jacket. He sprinted to the commotion, the feel of the wooden handle somewhat comforting.
Two men, one a bus driver with dark sunglasses, the other a scruffy-haired wreck, were fighting by the sliding door of a bus. The passengers were constantly screaming, and Israel rushed forward to help. Without thinking or stopping to read the future, his foot snapped out, catching the scruffy-haired man in the chest. He didn’t get back up from the ground. There was clapping from the bus but Israel ignored it and turned to the bus driver.
“Are you alright?” Israel asked him. The driver’s glasses had fallen and he was facing the other way.
“Oh, I, uh…Yeah, I’m good,” said the bus driver in a thick, Southern drawl. He bent low to pick up the sunglasses. Something clicked in Israel’s mind, and he grabbed the driver’s wrist, stopping him from placing the glasses back on his head.
“Wait.” Israel stared at the man. “Look at me.”
Billy-Ray Sanguine turned and smiled at Israel, showing off the two dark holes where his eyes had been.
“Hot damn,” he said, drawing his feet together. “I daresay I’ve been sprung.”
And with that, he disappeared into the ground, making a final lunge for the scruffy-haired man and then saluting Israel on his way down, leaving Israel without a clue and a bus full of mortals.
There was a furry creature on the bus. It hadn’t meant to be there, but it was, so there was nothing it could do about the loud sounds around it. It stepped down lightly from its perch, weaving in-between frightened passenger’s legs. It padded along; it’s sleek brown fur matching its brown eyes perfectly. It was a cat, or at least, it appeared to be.
It exited the bus, moving towards the man she knew as Israel Elysium. He was crouching over the unconscious body of a scruffy man, contemplating all the ways to lift him onto his shoulder. He looked up when she approached.
“Oh,” he said, frowning. “Why are you here?”
The cat stopped moving and started licking its paw, smoothing down the hair on its head. Then, before all of the civilians present, she changed form, shape-shifting into a brown-haired, brown-eyed 17 year old, fixing her hair the same way she had moments ago in cat-form. Minus the licking, of course.
“Good to see you too, Israel,” replied Aquila Felis, placing her hands in the pockets of a teenager’s jacket.
The bus was quiet now. Everyone just stared at the girl who had seemingly been a cat thirty seconds ago. Then the penny dropped and they started screaming again.
“Oh, hell. Did you have to do that right in front of them?”
Aquila blushed. “It’s not my fault they looked! If they were smart, they would have kindly faced the other way while I changed.”
Israel sighed. “I sure could use Geoffrey Scrutinous’ power right now. Oh well. Would you mind giving me a hand?”
Aquila obliged, grabbing the man’s legs while Israel held his shoulders.
“So what happened? All I saw was the bus driver stepped out of the bus and attacked this guy.”
“Yeah, well the bus driver was Sanguine. And for some reason, he wants this man,” answered Israel. They entered the car park and moved towards a white van. He fished out the keys from his pocket and they loaded the man into the back of the car. Israel hopped into the driver’s seat and Aquila sat in the passenger seat. Israel started the engine, checked the review mirrors, and drove off.
Surprisingly, nothing bad had happened to them.
Yet.
*****
It took Aquila a while to realise that Israel was driving in circles. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that, yet again, there was the same bank, pizza store, video shop, Skate Park. She sighed and was just about to ask him why he wasn’t going anywhere when the scruffy-haired man in the back stirred.
“Ah,” said Israel. “Finally.”
“Who…Who are you?” asked the man, sitting up.
“Aquila Felis, and the man driving is Israel Elysium.”
“Oh, hello. I’m…Lewis…Lewis Ryker. You are…are you…?”
“Magic?” Lewis nodded.
“Yes, as a matter-of-fact, we are. Now, Lewis, do you have any idea why a psychopathic criminal would be after you?” asked Israel, overtaking an expensive looking black car. If they had looked closer, they would have noticed that it was a 1954 Bentley R-Type continental, one of only 208 ever made. Of course, as said, no-one noticed.
“Sanguine? Oh…” Lewis’ eyes un-focused, staring into the distance.
“Um, hello?” Aquila snapped her fingers. “We’re not even finished talking to you yet…”
His eyes re-focused. “I, I…I’m a bomb.”
The car wrenched sideways, pushed off course by an unseen force. It turned onto a separate road, the wheel moving seemingly of its own accord.
“What the hell?” said Israel, looking up just in time to see a gloved hand slip back through the window of the Bentley. He tried to turn back or at least get off the road, but four black cars came up and boxed him in. They kept him moving, and Israel saw shapes beyond them. It was a roadblock, flanked completely by cleavers and sanctuary agents. He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial while Aquila talked to Lewis.
“What do you mean ‘a bomb’?”
“Not like dynamite or anything, but like a power-surge kind of bomb. I boost the powers of those around me to an amazing rate, but the thing is that they get so out of control that nothing can stop them. I can let off little amounts of this power at a time, but sooner or later, I’m gonna blow, and then all the sorcerers around the world will feel my power.”
“What, like, the whole world? Really?”
“Yep. Imagine: Everywhere, magicians will be found out. Suddenly, elementals will burst into flames or turn into statues. Adepts will be using every trick they’ve ever learnt all at once. Mortals will have no choice but work together to eradicate us.”
“When? Tomorrow? Next week?”
“I don’t know exactly, but the fuse gets shorter every day.”
In the front seat, Israel was having a heated discussion with a talking skeleton.
“Did you just try to run me off the road?” he yelled into the mouthpiece of the phone. On the other end of the line, Skulduggery hesitated. “Well…Yes…”
“Why? Because-” Israel listened in on the conversation that Aquila and Lewis were having. “There’s a bomb in the back seat of my car?”
“Ah. So he told you then?”
“He bloody well did!”
“Alright then. That makes things a lot easier. Israel, the man in your car must be brought into custody. If we can’t find a way to cure him, then we will have to-”
“What? Kill him? I’m sorry Skulduggery, but that’s just not how we work. You know that. If you wan to kill him, you’ll have to get through me and a couple of my friends.”
“That’s it then? The great Israel Elysium pledges his cause to a scruffy-haired time bomb?”
“Yeah. I guess he does.”
Skulduggery sighed. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try.”
There was a gunshot and a bullet smashed into the windscreen, missing Israel’s head by millimetres. Only then did he realise that the Bentley was just outside the ring of vehicles boxing the van in.
“That was a warning shot,” came the skeleton’s voice from the receiver. “The next one goes through you. Please, Israel, stop. This is your last chance.”
“People always say that,” muttered Israel as he shut the phone and stuffed it in his coat pocket. “Yet it never is…”
“You got a plan?” asked Lewis, strapping a seatbelt across his chest. In the background there was the sound of gunfire as Skulduggery tried to slow down the van.
“Naturally,” replied Israel, speeding on towards the car blockade. “Aquila, the hatch.”
Aquila nodded. She had seen him pull this stunt many times before. She went to the glove compartment and opened it. She ripped out the fake bottom, revealing the road rushing by beneath them. They still hurtled closer to the car blockade. The cars on either side of them slowed down and broke off. He had less than a hundred metres to go now; there was no-where to drive but to the blockade.
“Um, I don’t want to alarm anyone,” Lewis said, pointing at the cars lined up in front of them. “But I think we’re gonna crash.”
“Shut up,” said Israel, pulling out his shotgun. He checked it was loaded, did a quick pray, then stuck it down through the glove compartment so that it just poked out, almost touching the speeding ground. The Cleavers and Sanctuary agents didn’t move.
“To hell with last chances…” said Israel, and he pulled the trigger.
I still havent counted them all, but WHOAH, that is just crazy.
u people are insane, u know that?
...
Meh, i guess we all are at some point.
OK! I AM OFFICIALLY CLOSING THE SIGN UP SHEET!
THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN POST IS Alexzz, ok?
him only because he did say he would, he just never got to.
Mary Hiashi, ill keep u as a gud guy.
Alrite, well, ive already started to write up the draft in a notebook..
here is the story line.
First and foremost, it WILL NOT BE about remnants. yeah, that's right. They are a perfectly good topic, but seeing as how everyone else is writing about them, i think ill just stick to an original.
How it will go has never ever been thought of before, never devised or stratigised by another living minion on Derek's blog.
This story will break hearts, send lives spiraling into a deep chasm where they will never surface and end the dreams of a thousand orphans. It will make a black heart poo brown.
ahh stuff it. it wont be that good.
my story is all about a man who is literally a bomb. not a nuke, but his power releases giant energy waves, spiking every magician's power. it boosts them to a point where the powers cant be controlled.
everywhere, elementals would catch on fire, bursting into flames or becoming rock statues. vampires would turn into their monster form, tearing civillians limb from limb. mortals would watch as seemingly normal people started doing extra-ordinary things. the magical world would be discovered, and sorcerers would be hunted down.
everyone is out to get this man. his name is Lewis Ryker, and he is THE BOMB.
And it is all up to Israel Elysium and a few friends to escort him out of hell.
the twist, as they say, is that while Sanguine and other villians are after him too let his power loose and cause havoc to the whole world, so is Skulduggery, Tanith and Valkyrie, backed up by the sanctuary, too make sure that he never has the chance to let his power out. And their not just there to say a couple of nice words and send him on his way. They want to stop him. Permanently.
i have decided something. recently i have had a bucket load of writers block. :( so now, instead of my old fan-fic (look below) i will be starting a new one. and yes, it will have as many of u as possible. and yes, i know i should have had this idea first, and YES, i know that there is already so many of these happening, but hey, im bored, so just let me write, k?
JOIN NOW!
just post name, description, power, chosen path (adept, elemental, necromancer .etc) and yeah.
the quicker u post, the sooner i can start.
*sigh* so many people are gonna hate me for copying this idea...
Still posting in small pieces, so that its easy to read.
Grumble grumble double health lesson 2morrrow grumble grumble
He appeared beside them, and instantly he stumbled and fell onto the Bentley. “Careful,” remarked Skulduggery, “My car’s expensive, you know that.”
Fletcher glared at him. When he finally regained his breath, the first thing he said was “They were there. Both Sanguine and Dusk. On the plane.”
Tanith Low walked forward, all brown leather. “We were expecting that,” she said, wheeling her bike closer.
“So let’s go,” added Valkyrie, stepping out of the shadows. “Before they get a head start.”
“I don’t even know if this is going to work, though.” Fletcher indicated the group. “It’s not like I can just teleport a car, a bike, two people, a skeleton and myself. There could be side effects.”
“Like what?” sighed Valkyrie.
“Well…” Fletcher thought for a moment. “Ah, sod it. Come on, hurry up and link up already.”
He put one hand on the Bentley, and the other on Valkyrie. She held Tanith’s hand, who was gripping her bike’s handle bar. Skulduggery completed the circle by linking both vehicles between him.
“Ok.” Fletcher closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. “Well, here goes nothing…”
The streets outside of Ghastly’s shop were replaced by the dark alleyway in Australia. They got in the car, re-checked where they were going, and set off.
The first thing Valkyrie noticed about Australia was the sun. As they drove out of the alleyway and onto the road, she raised her hand as a shield against the brilliant sky. When her eyes finally adjusted and colours shifted into recognizable forms, she saw buildings, cars and people. No desert. No giant red rock on the horizon.
“Oh,” she frowned.
“Oh,” echoed Fletcher, looking outside the opposite window.
“Yes, I know what you are asking yourself.” Skulduggery turned slowly down another street. “‘Where are all the indigenous people with boomerangs riding kangaroos?’ and ‘Why is there towering buildings instead of towering rocks?’ These questions are asked by many tourists in Australia,” continued Skulduggery. “And that, my friends, leads us to yet another: History lesson!”
Everyone groaned. These lessons were becoming more frequent and absurd, ever since Valkyrie had joked about why the Leaning Tower of Pisa was at an odd angle.
“Well, our story begins in Brisbane, the capital of Tasmania,” quoted Skulduggery matter-of-factly. “Or was it Queensland?”
Still posting it in small parts. Enjoy, and FEEDBACK IS WANTED!
Just a note, all of this story theoretically takes places after Dark Days is written.
XD
Dusk sat alone on a park seat, contemplating all the ways that he could kill his enemies. A man in his forties wearing dark sunglasses sat beside him, and Dusk sighed.
“What” asked Dusk, “do you want, Sanguine?”
“Well now partner,” answered Billy-Ray with a smile, “I’m here to offer some good and proper revenge.”
“Against whom?”
“The Skeleton Detective, the dark-haired girl and even Tanith Low. That is, if your interested…”
Dusk sat and thought for a while. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. Just need help with some killin’, is all.”
What could have been a smile crept onto Dusk’s face. It contorted his scar and forced Sanguine to turn away. “Alright,” he said. “I’m in.”
They had a plan. It wasn’t a very good one, but it was a plan, nonetheless. Fletcher would travel by plane to Australia, and then teleport the rest of them there. They would find the boy Cassandra described, and find out what was so special about him. Simple, in retrospect. Of course, Sanguine most likely had a head start, and it seemed no-one had actually ever been to Adelaide before.
Fletcher, as it was, hated planes. Yet here he was, flying from Dublin to Adelaide, in a plane several thousand feet above the ground. He cringed at the thought.
His fear for planes most likely had something to do with the fact that it was too hard to teleport off or on to them, and so he would have no back-up plan if it crashed.
Despite all of this, he was having an OK time. He had scored some free food from the flight attendant with a sleazy smile, and had discovered the wonder of in-flight gaming consoles. He was just starting to enjoy things when two men shoved past him, knocking his food onto the ground. He stood up and almost shouted at them to be careful, when he noticed their faces.
One of them had a large scar across his face, and moved at ease down the rows of seats.
The other wore dark sunglasses that Fletcher knew covered the two holes where his eyes should have been.
Instantly, Fletcher dropped to his seat, pulling a beanie low over his head. For once, he regretted getting up that morning to apply hair gel. All he could think was Oh God-I’m stuck on a plane with two wanted criminals and I can’t teleport away. Oh God, oh God…
When the plane finally landed, Fletcher pretended to be sorting through his luggage at his feet while Sanguine and Dusk shuffled past.
He held his breath when Sanguine stopped, frowning in his direction. His heart was pounding a million beats a second; he didn’t dare raise his head.
“What is it, Sanguine?” Dusk hissed.
“I just…” Sanguine’s face cleared. “No wait, I packed that.” They continued walking, and after a couple of minutes, Fletcher’s heart beat returned to normal. The flight attendant walked up to him. “Excuse me sir? You need to be leaving now.”
Fletcher mumbled something and stood up. He made his way through the last few stragglers and picked up his luggage. He hung back a while, watching Sanguine and Dusk pick out a black suitcase off the luggage train.
Once he was well away, Fletcher walked out of the airport, shielding his eyes from the Australian sun. He walked into an alleyway, planes and jets screaming across the sky above him.
He memorised his surroundings, then in a blink, he was gone.
