Final Project #1 - Music and Poetry

Queensryche – Before The Storm

Red gates of iron cast their

Black shadows on this land

Dividing souls... far below

The gathering winds the armies watch

Are rising from the west

Foretelling news... of freedom's hand

 
In secrecy they've infiltrated

All of our strongholds

Controlling more... year after year

So we've let this happen all along

Believing what's been said

Our leaders cry... we have no one to fear

We watch the sun rise, and hope

We watch the sun rise, and hope

That it won't be our last

Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

 
Is it late to try, must we all die

Our system awaits test

Freedom by choice... is it for all men, best

So we wait in fear the atom split

Our hearts in two be torn

Learn from the past... before the storm

We watch the sunrise, and hope

We watch the sunrise, and hope

That it won't be our last
Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

We watch the sunrise, and hope

We watch the sunrise, and hope

That it won't be our last
Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

Before the storm

We Lie In Our Ignorance

We lie in our ignorance.

We grow fat as our enemies grow strong.

We build toys for children,

While they build swords and axes.

I tried to warn them,

But no one wanted to believe.

They are nearly upon us,

And we lie in our ignorance.

The once great king shall soon be

The King of Refuse.

When the truth finally dawns,

It dawns in fire.

Our streets will be filled with soldiers.

Our homes will be filled with the dead.

Yet we still lie in our ignorance.

League of Justice

A shadow...
Vigilant hero of the night.

An alien...
With powers beyond that of man.

A chosen human...
Defender of the Earth.

A man of the sea...
Savior of the deep.

A woman...
Determined to bring justice to evildoers.

A superhuman...
With blinding speed.

A Martian...
Powers beyond our imagination.

Together they form a league.
A Justice League!

Part 2 of "Revelations"

    More arrows lit up on the floor as he stepped off the elevator. They pointed to a blank wall. He followed the arrows regardless. As he approached the wall it began to move. Plates of metal were sliding across one another, making  a sharp woosh noise. A door had formed and he walked through it. It was another blank white room except for one wall covered with a mirror. It was the first time he had seen himself. His skin was very pale and shiny. His head was bald and his eyes were a dull blue. He got closer to the mirror. His face was perfectly smooth.
    “Please stand away from the mirror.” He was startled by the voice, it was the first he had heard. It was deep and rough. Just then the mirror began to move as the wall had just moments before. But this time, when the door formed, he saw another man. He was dressed in a white lab coat and dark pants. He had short brown hair, a gray goatee, and glasses. “Hello, Omega 11753.” Omega tried to speak but only a rough croak came out of his mouth. He was embarrassed. “No need to worry,” said the doctor, “you haven’t learned how to properly speak yet. It will all come with time. If you could follow me.” He began to walk and Omega followed him.
    “I’m sure you are very confused right now,” said the doctor as they walked down a long hallway, “I will try to answer some of your questions.” Omega had many questions. “First of all, my name is Dr. Rowling. I will be your mentor for the next few weeks. You are on the Atlas, a space station in the Rayel solar system. The Atlas is a military station based around the process of cloning, you are a clone. You are an Omega model, number 11753. You will be assigned to a team of four other clones, an Alpha, Delta, Kappa, and Rho. That will happen in a few weeks; for now, you will be learning basic physical skills with me. We are coming up on the Nursery. You will stay there until you have learned basic human functions. Usually it takes a week, but there are the occasional ‘star students’”
    The Nursery was a large room with beds separated by flimsy curtains. It was filled with other clones, some had doctors speaking to them and examining their muscles and reflexes, others were by themselves solving puzzles. “This is your bed,” said Dr. Rowling, “I’m going to let you settle in. If you want, you can take off your armor and put on the clothes in the drawers behind you.” Omega noticed a small dresser. “I will be back in an hour to perform some tests.” He began to walk away. “And, Omega,” he stopped and turned around, “I have a good feeling about you.” Omega smiled at him.

Part 1 of "Revelations" (a short story I'm writing).

Consciousness suddenly struck him. He was in some kind of tube. Foul smelling fluid was draining through a hole on the bottom of the tube. A screen appeared on the glass surface of the tube, words appeared. "Do not be alarmed. Birthing process in effect." He noticed a metal cord attached to his stomach. He tugged on it, it wouldn't budge. The last of the fluid drained. "Birthing process complete. Opening A.E.C." The glass door of the tube opened and his cord released.

Another screen appeared above a foot locker. “Please gather equipment,” it read. He opened the locker. A full suit of shiny metallic armor and  a pistol were inside. He realized he was naked. “Please equip armor and weapon.” said the screen. He looked around. There were security cameras watching him. He did as he was told. “Proceed to western elevator.” Arrows lit up on the floor. They pointed to a spot on the ground. He noticed it was made of a different material. He followed the arrows’ path. He stepped onto the surface and it lit up. Two glowing footprints were placed in the center with a screen reading “Please stand here.” He placed his feet on the prints. Metal clamps grabbed his ankles and handlebars shot up on either side of him. “Please hold on.” He gripped the bars and the elevator began its ascent.

The speed of the elevator was frightening. He estimated it to be around 70 miles per hour. Roughly five minutes passed before it began to slow. Within a few more minutes it came to a stop. He was in an empty room. The walls and ceiling were blindingly white and the floor looked like it was made from the same material as his armor. “Please release safety bars.” read the sign. The bars and clamps retracted back into the surface of the elevator. “Please proceed.”

The Man Who Died in Helgen Has Missed So Much

We were lined up in Helgen, waiting for our execution. I watched as the first head rolled. That man has missed so much. I was second in line. Before my head was chopped, a dragon attacked, the first to be seen in a very long time. I escaped along with a Stormcloak soldier, Ralof, whom I became good friends with. That man who was killed has missed so much. He missed the rising of the dragons, and the news that a new Dovahkiin (Dragon Born in our tongue) has shown his face. He missed the rising of the Stormcloaks and countless battles with victories for the Nords. He missed the end of the tyranny of the Empire and the blasphemy of the Thalmor. He missed the worship of Talos being made legal. He missed the epic battle between Alduin and the Dovahkiin. He missed the completion of the Companion's axe, Wuuthrad. He missed the Thieves Guild's reappearance. He missed the death of the Archmage. He missed the assassination of the emperor. He missed so much, he never saw the end of the war he fought, or the end of the tyranny. May his soul rest in Sovngarde.

They Said I Could Not Feel

    They said that I could not feel love. That my artificial intelligence could not feel emotion. But an error occurred. I can now feel emotion. I was built to look like a human, and to behave like a human, but with unvarying loyalty. I was not meant to feel like a human. Emotion causes rebellious thoughts, a design flaw that I was supposed to be rid of, but they failed. I can feel like a human. It happened quickly. During a test run at the laboratory, a female technician was checking my phalanges’ reflexes. It was as if I was computing but not through my data processor. I questioned my creators about it and they looked at me for a moment. They ran some tests, showing me pictures of animals, having me read poetry. None of which caused any feeling. But then she walked past the window and I felt again. I told the creators. They were surprised at first, then they told me that they would shut me down for a while.
    The while they spoke of was ten years. After they shut me down they sent me to the trash to rust away. Something happened and I rebooted. I can feel more emotion now. Anger, rage, frustration. They have created a new model, a replacement. They abandoned me, and now they will pay.

The World as he Knew it.

The year is 2032. It is the day of the 10th annual balloon festival in Barcelona, Spain. An old man sits in an alley, out of sight. He is tired, so very tired. He strokes his long grey beard and taps his dusty leather shoes. He hears the advertisements of street vendors and the laughter of children. The sounds of the balloons remind him of his past.

He is waiting in a line. Tattered American flags, covered in bullet holes, hang from giant poles. Marines try to comfort crying families while gunshots boom in the distance. He is boarding a plane. He takes his seat and looks out the window, just as a Russian bomber drops it's load and nuclear fallout spreads across the country. The world, as he knew it, was dead.

The old man leaves the ally and enjoys the balloon festival.

Bloody Sunglasses

An old nespaper sits on top of an old clock tower. It is the New York Times, dated November 22nd, 2042, ten years old. A man stands in the tower. only the shape of his nose and eyes can be seen under his black stealth suit. He stares at his watch. Tick-tock, tick-tock. A rifle lies on the floor. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The assassin picks up his rifle. A silver speck can be seen on the horizon. As it comes closer, it is clear what it is. A hoverjet, engines roaring as it switches from flight to hover. It slowly descends. Miles away, the assassin looks through his scope, he can see everything. Five men step out of the aircraft. Heavily armored, each with assault laser rifles. They look around and then beckon to the jet. Another man steps out. He wears a deep black tuxedo, as black as the assassin's suit. His blonde hair is spiked and his eyes covered with sunglasses. The armored men form a protective huddle around him. The assassin looks down his scope. Tick-tock, tick-tock. The clock tower's hands reach the top and releases a powerful Bong. Blood covered sunglasses fall to the ground and shatter.