Vignetees

[ballisticwaffles]

So i write. Alot. And im sick of my notebook being cluttered with junk. SO you dear intahnet get to SEE MY SOMETIMES LITERATE DRIBBLES. Also i ahte laptops because the caps lock gets randomly turned on and i hate going and editing, so mma leave that in.

FIRST VIGNETTE

Only with death could an Alien be free.

From birth we serve our mother, our progenitor, our queen. We condemn ourselves to eternally waiting for prey, for eternally expanding the hive to greater levels of might. Such is the fate written on the genes of the alien.

Of my species.

But we do not care. Our mother is kind, and she loves us so. For every one of us she has a name, and for every one of us she holds a place in her heart. She knows our strengths, our fears, our hopes and dreams.

And like all good mothers, she knows when to let go.

You are not Alien.

Have you ever wondered why we wade into battle? Have you ever thought to yourself, why do they not fear? Has it ever piqued your limitless attention spans as to why we choke barrels with our corpses?

What fear is there, finally being free?

Our mother smiles, and the tight reigns of control that keep us from orgiastic violence is lifted. There is no pressure to keep us from roaring, no biological impetuous to keep us from killing. The weights of the universe are lifted from us, and in every moment till our mother calls us in for our own good, we are free.

Only with death could an alien be free

- Scout Drone pilot Number 303, one of the three white stripes.

[ballisticwaffles]

Stop for a moment and imagine a world sapped of its bright exuberance.

Imagine a world plagued only with survival, where everyday lived meant toil unlike most could ever hope to aspire to.

Imagine a world where the earth was a limit, much less alone the sky.

Hell, think of a world where they sky is just another color in a dank drab landscape.

For me, that isn't imagination, that's my childhood.

For you, looking up is as natural as breathing. For some, you have left the bond of the world and soared where the avian only dare to tread. And, for a blessed few, slipped the boundaries of the world you were born on. Dreaming and wonder gave life and creativity to you.

I am Alien.

My world is dank and dark.

My imagination is a hive brimming with unrealized ideas.

My creativity was crushed in favor of unparalleled survival.

Bound to a single rock, it was inevitable that our species would die cold, lonely, and without any mark to leave.

But we had salvation.

For one day, as planetary rotation beat another day of mind numbingly 1 dimensional lives, The sky roared.

A voice, unlike the tedious voices of the recycled souls of my species, spoke to us.

To our eternal embarresment, we ignored the sugar coated words. Admittedly, had you been us, you would have too. He offered a transcendental change in our lives, a way to escape our tedium, a way to propogate the species unlike anything the Alien species had seen before! Excuse our disbelief, for we had no idea of our insignificance. We had no dream of escape. We had no dreams.

Until he gave one to us.

Our first dreams were glorious. Filled with unlimited space, with food aplenty, with an eternal loving embrace. We were happy, we were warm. It was bright and it was... good.

Excuse my consternation, but you do not remember your first dream.

Our world was redefined. Every alien, every individual suddenly aware of her wants, wanted to leave.

The voice returned, and we turned our thoughts to it.

He claimed he could give us perspective, he could give us food. warmth. He could bring us closer to our dream.

We followed.

Our home world is out there somewhere, rotting in its dank confines. It shall always be there, always endlessly floating in the midnight of space. It serves as a reminder of how far we have come.

I shall always remember my first sight of the sky. The rolling storms, the eternal night stretched on for miles. That day, i saw something else.

I saw a dream.

No.

I saw our future

- Queen Typha the 3rd in diplomacy with Xenomorph queens aboard the USS Sulaco.

[Arashikage]

I can haz Grammar Nazism?

[ballisticwaffles]

ugh... FINE.

[ballisticwaffles]

Well im about to break my self made commendment. Thou shalt not write a song fic.

Oh well.

This is my attempt at a pokewars fanfiction. This is my Ruby Charecter.

Who's there knocking at my window?

The owl and the Dead Boy

This night whispers my name

All the dying children

Emmerich shook the all Too familiar web of dispair from his head. His breath softened and his eyes began to undialate, the nightmares that had slowly stripped him of humanity receading for the morning calm.

"You awake Glut?"

"-Iken" Came the answer, the avian clicks of the Blazekin's claws treating Emerich to a trip into the past.

Of a Boy and his Torchic, and nothing but the world in front of them...

"Blaze?" The sudden movement drove him out of his memories, The cealing several inches off of his nose.

"Thank you Gluttony"

Virgin snow beneath my feet

Painting the world in white

I tread the way

and lose myself into a tale

The wheelchair clicked over every small piece of wreckage, every fallen piece of glass, every bump jolting Emmerich and preventing his retreat into memory. "Sleep good?" Emerich had the state of mind to ask, Gluttony giving a perky chirp in response. Emerich allowed himself a chuckle, leaning back in the chair as Gluttony pushed him to the kitchen. "Glad that makes one of us"

"Or Maybe two" Emerich said, A crackle of electricity greeting him in response. "Garde" The Gardevior unattached herself from the wall, Little Blue sparks travelling to and fro her body. Like every Gardevior, her body floated scerenly off the ground, Unlike every other gardevoir, her Lower body was in tatters, a common sight foor fragile pokemon these days. Blaziken wasn't looking so fine either, his feathers rumpled and his beak chipped and unmended.

"Did you sleep well, Sloth?" Sloth nodded and tilted her head, her red eyes boring, per usual, into the very soul of Emmerich. "Same ole thing i see everynight" Emmerich answered, wheeling himself from Gluttony's grasp and to a cuppard, throwing a few boxes of consumables onto the counter. "Same thing you and he and Envy see everynight too."

Sloth bowed her head, A flare of lightning sparking from her head and back into her body. Gluttony too bowed his head, his fist clenching and his breath deepening for a second of willing weakness.

Respectfully turning his head, Emmerich caught sight of the outside world for the first time that morning. The day was perfect, the sun blazing down from the heavens above, highlighting the very destruction Emmerich didn't wish to see.

Come hell or high water

My search will go on

Clayborn

Voyage without an end

The terrain was ruined. Great masses of dirt torn from the earth and deposited at random every where else. Old rotting trees spread about like toothpicks flung by a petulant child. The horizon was dominated by the ocean, stained by both the sun and things that Emmerich didn't want to think about.

"Voi?" Emmerich almost flung himself out of his chair, Sloth giggling at her accidental scare. The chair was seized by her power and she wheeled him along, Retrieving the bowl of Oatmeal, he retreated into his psyche once more, his body reflexivly feeding himself.

"You ready Envy?"

"Shinx!"

"How about you, Lust?"

"Nido!"

"Then lets go!, Wallice awaits us!"

The nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

Come someone make my heavy heart light

Come undone

Bring me back to life

"AGG!" Punctuated the hunk of metal in front of them, Meeting a charging Tauros with its horns, Goring the Bull pokemon and flinging it into a pile of dirt. "RON!"

Slowly and surely The Aggron turned to face Emmerich, Its Chasis stained with blood both dried and flesh. "Garde!" Sloth chastised, Floating over to the Aggron and sticking to it, Laughing as the Aggron clutched its mighty head in its smaller hands, a fascimle to a human facepalm.

"Was it bad out last night, Greed?"

Greed shook her head, meandering over to a Stonewall, long since lost its color and sheen. Only dots and lines remained, and With Her claw she poked another hole, adding to the many on there.

The wall was 20 feet long. Greed was almost out of room.

The nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

Come someone make my heavy heart light

It all starts with a lullaby

"So whats the word, did..."

Sloth shook her head, gazing mornfully at Gluttony, who only gazed ahead.

Emmerich was seized by a fit of anger, screaming loud and long into the morning Dawn.

"Take me to them"

Sloth's eyes nearly jumped from her head, her head tilted so far as to indicate confusion that Emmerich could have sworn she was nearly horizontal.

"WE have been locked up in this Wreched scraphole for 40 days, i need to get out of here. But im not leaving without them"

Journey homeward bound

A sound of a dolphin calling

Tearing off the mask of man

The tower

My sole guide

The painfully loud clacking of his wheelchair ceased within moments of stopping, Emmerich staring out blankly towards the sea. He dare not let his mind go. Not here. Not at all.

"Hey guys" He spoke aloud, Sloth and Gluttony sitting on a fallen tree, The Oversized chicken With his arm around the Small and ragged Psykick.

"I know i havent been here for a a while, a band of Fearow wouldn't let me come out without a fight"

The area was barren, the rocks twisted into odd geometric shapes, all reaching vainly for the sky. Bands of Black wrapping around and forming patterns on patterns on each rock.

This is who I am

Escapist

Paradise Seeker

Farewell, time to fly

Out of sight

Out of time

Away from our lies

"I cant stop thinking about both of you, two nights ago we had... Tuna and i know you both enjoyed tuna... I hope i flung it far enough for you guys..."

In the middle of the torn area, the only clearing for miles, Two small Crosses, Each lavishly decorated with jewels and beads and other such things, all useless after the apocalypse.

The nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

"I had Sloth Throw Water from the sea all over the place...i know how you both hated Grass and i thought.... well eternity with each other is good for you both but... I...I miss you guys"

The nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

Come someone make my heavy heart light

Come undone

Bring me back to life

The Cross on the left simply read. "Envy, Kind and courageous." A single lightning bolt drew from the top to the bottom.

"Envy, i made sure the bastard who killed you suffered. I know you loved to watch them pop, you were never good at hiding your favorites. Maybe thats why i knew you and Lust..."

A nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

Come someone make my heavy heart light

It all starts with a lullaby

The cross on the right, sticking out of the same hole as the one on the left read. "Lust, Faithfull and Loving." Nothing denominated the cross except a Stone, Black and jagged, attached to the top by a hole in its middle.

"Lust, i wish i knew... I always knew you had a place in your heart for children... That daycare... I saw you when... I... Im sorry girl. Sobs broke forth from his chest. "If i knew... Nidoqueen couldn't... I was almost sure..."

The nightingale in a golden cage

That's me locked inside reality's maze

Come someone make my heavy heart light

Come undone

Bring me back to life

"Gardevoir" Sloth said, Kneeling next to Emmerich and pulling his sleave, pointing at the noon sun. Emmerich slowly nodded and turned his attention one last time to his fallen pokemon. "Gluttony, Greed, sloth, and i are going to leave this place, look for survivors and maybe a way to help clean up this mess. And then... Im going to come back, you hear? Im not abandoning you, Im not running away."

As Gardevior turned the wheel chair and pushed it into the forest, Greed keeping a paranoid ear out for anything hostile, Emmerich said. "Its not running away if you leave something behind to come back to."

The nightingale... in a golden cage...

[ballisticwaffles]

Run.

Jump.

Run.

Crawl.

Climb.

Gore.

Daily Tasks dealt with Precision of a machine.

Walk.

Stare.

Walk.

Run.

Jump.

Gore.

My Race Is lacking in imagination. Each task is dealt with straightforward decisions and mindless violence.

Jump.

Fall.

Land.

Gore.

Isolated Xenomorphs lack direction, they lack the spark of life that keeps them from suicidal depression. Without direction, the alien falls into a coma and expires.

Aliens will literally die of boredom without any action.

This is true 100% of the time. If an alien doesn't find something to do in its isolation, it will die.

This not only makes Captive Aliens impossable to keep without a queen, but makes outbreaks immensly more probable.

I am an exception

I was a anomaly, a freak of nature. My biology was messed up from day one. I was born out of a normal bovine pack animal, in a science hive.

Hives usually run along the lines of two types. The warrior hives and the science hives. While the warrior hives seek to eliminate all traces of any opposition, Science hives are run by insane alien queens who mess with the genetic makeup of the species in an attempt to find better alien genomes.

I exploded in a shower of gore and landed face first on the ground like most newborn aliens. That was the most normal thing about me.

Mother hissed in approval as the Chestbursters around me skurried off into the hive in search of food. THey darted in and around corpses and all left the room.

Then mother looked at me.

And i looked back. And i said hello.

And mother Screamed.

You see, i under my own notion used thought, mental power, self awareness.

If left unchecked, i could accidentally the hive.

The Entire thing too.

So mother attacked, and i died. Squished underneith her naturally occuring heels.

And i was dead.

But i was not recycled into the mind of the hive.

Drones, warriors, runners, all the basic swarm breeds are all recycled eventually. You may kill him now, but on a world a million light years away he will be born again and learn.

I was a higher organism. I could think, yet i wasn't royalty.

I went somewhere else instead.

My senses showed me a land wracked with fiery sepulchers. My small feet felt the ash and the rocks. MY carapace felt the heat, My mind almost shattered in the revelation that is given once your find yourself there.

I was in Tartarus.

THat is not the end of my story. I was scooped up by a wandering Boy, his name to sacred for me to spoil in normal conversation.

We shall call him my husband. for with his love and care, i grew from a lowly child.

To Mama Molt.

[RougetheBat4Real]

:pimp:

Not bad, little booger.

[ballisticwaffles]

Vote To Mold Conciousness Today.

By Writer and Editor Flare Sonne

Up and Up high in the main command deck, Our esteemed Captain Hopkins Deliberates on an issue that has been deliberated over the course of a Twelve jump period (3 31 day periods).

As publicly broadcasted, The Drones and automaton that make up the primary defense of The DeMeA are controlled by pilots from the Xenomorph species. The Xenomorphs work in the parts of the ship to deadly for normal workers and too important for slave labor. Too many interviewed aliens, the chance to pilot a drone is the only way to escape the horrors of the underdecks.

But the side effects of emersing themselves into these self labeled "God-Machines" Is to run the risk of both identity loss, and the risk if loosing your mind in the transit...(Continued on page 423)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Concious Mold Passed by Captain

By Jorda Von Sonne,Adjunctent to captain

As Many Readers know, The Decision to allow The full mind melding of the Artificial Warrior Platforms (Drones to the simplistic) was a choice of practicality.

After all, it is a proven fact that a soldier is much better at his job when all he has to do is focus on fighting. The same proves with the masses of combined Artificial warrior platforms. On the accusations of Xenomorph strikes having coerced him to base his descision purely on economic means, The Captain had this to say.

"The Desire to get the DeMeA up to full industrial capacity was indeeda powerfull force in my decision, yes. However the passionate pleas of both individual aliens and many of the non-Xenomorph convinced me to change the policy on total mind transferance

(Continued on page 343)

[ballisticwaffles]

Disclaimer: this being one of the more vitriol writings i have ever done, viewer discretion is advised for :Adult Language and Adult Happenings and Drill Sergeants.

YOU WERE WARNED

ALRIGHT YOU SLUG SHUCKING MAGGOTS

SIT DOWN SHUT UP AND PUT ON YOUR GODDAMNED THINKING CAPS

BECAUSE ITS TIME FOR PHILOSOPHY.

Now, im not sure what you wastes of space were taught when you went through basic back in your home realms, but lets get one thing straight! If Anybody so much as tries to PASS off a subject with the phrase "Its all just opinion" I will PERSONALLY rip YOU in two separate and equally nauseous looking PIECES.

With THAT disclaimer out of the way, let me introduce myself.

My name is James Fredricks Sonne. I am a veteran of over 200 and 3 seperate Drops, combat situations and civil wars! I have been to each of your ugly pathetic home worlds and in all likely hood i have lost more blood in action than you have seen pasted on the wall by your barbaric species! That means what i say is backed up by more violence and MORE experiance than any of you have in a single IONIC bond!

To start, what is said in this room is both my, better than your, position and the official position of the Captain. This ship you filthy biological wastes have found yourselves on has one policy.

Money is power.

That means any of us can be thrown to the wolves at any moment if this ship makes more than it looses off of it.

But Dont for a second thinks this lets you off easy! No, my goal is to make sure you sentient sacks of stool make more money than your entire race spends on Disgusting and deviant Pornography!

If you survive the near constant assaults of "intellegent beings" who want nothing more than to tie you to stakes and sodomize your eye sockets, you will be wealthy.

Wealthy in the material sense. Your bank accounts will overflow with riches and material goods and what ever deviant pornography your race can think up! If you can survive being thrown at the enemy, who you will overwhelm with superior numbers and firepower, you will be rewarded! If you can tolerate the Official policy of this Ships forces, That : THE MORE MEN YOU THROW AT A PROBLEM, THE FASTER IT GOES AWAY: Than your futures will be set in gold! provided that you arent gutted like cattle or Converted to an INFERIOR way of life!

We will make you, or the galaxy will BREAK you!

But the point ladies, gentlemen and whatever Sex God thought to think up for your indecisive race, is that you all need to know why we do things we do!

First off is the usual question that your unimaginative and necrotic brains concoct.

Why the hell dont we just kill everyone! While it may be a spiderwebbed question, its a damned fine one! In fact, a much better man then all of you asked himself that question! His name was Temuchin!

Temuchin asked himself "Genghis" Thats right, Genghis Khan your imbeciles, now SHUT UP.

"Genghis" he said, before you buffoons thought yourself privileged to whisper in MY LECTURE, "I hate people, i wan't them dead. but i also want money!" So he asked his followers, "What should i do?"

One of his advisers, the only man i would never insult mind you!, suggested that the Khan take everyone in china and kill them and take their possessions!.

But his other advisers, the only other man i would never insult, Suggested the Khan sit on his regal posterior and do nothing as the Chinese Made more of their possessions for him to take! That way he could kill more people and make them make more things for him!

That is why we do not go around mindlessly killing people, you Reptile sack of scales back there! Don't think i see you shaking your head! Your race fought us and LOST. I was there! I personally put the boot in the sand to raise our flag over the ruins of your minuscule capital city! So before i decide to reenact the final battle for your precious home world, sit down, shut up, and any more comments and ill show you WHY we won!

Even our enemies we show mercy! We have been jipped, betrayed, almost completely destroyed multiple and oh so fun times! To all of those who did, we showed them kindness as we wiped their blood off of our faces. We gave them tech and we gave them money. We gave them debt and we gave them draft fees!

When we win we are fair...

WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY.

GET OVER HERE YOU SPINELESS AMOEBA.

This gentlemen is a Draganoid species that thought they could sneak aboard the ship and take out every bleeding one of us with five of them! But apparently this utter genius thinks that smacking them around for it was a WAR CRIME.

Take this gentlemen to the hospital, Corporal. Maybe while painkillers swim through his body he will reflect apon his minimal intellect and what caused him to swing at me.

Thats right ladies, i can physically hurt you. Why? because i have the power! I have the power to kill you if need be, but unless you do something incredebly stupid i will not consider it, no matter how attractive that option is.

That brings me to my second point for this period. We have all sorts of technology, why don't we just use the best to kill everyone! Again, a fine question, if a bit dated. A man i once respected before he was torn in half by a filthy insect, said that it was akin to chopping off a mans hand for every crime big and small.

We use lesser technology if not for two reasons. The first is because it is unnecessary. You all know of the Standard infantry rifle? for those whose head is buried in three feet of their own stool, the SIR is a rifle developed by a human offshoot who fought against zombies.

Yes, we fought zombies, there is little on gods green universe i have not personally lobotomized with the SIR. however, some of you more pyrotechnic inclined might prefer the Bolter, the Semi automatic BLOWJOB machine that sits your mother down and compensates for her ancesters as well as you! But the brutality of the Bolter isn't needed in every situation, where a fine killer like the SIR can sit your mother down on a nice date before kindly robbing her blind.

it boils down to this, unnecessary Brutality. Brutal and vicious works 90% of the time. That 90% is so rare that the 10% is more likely to occur where we go! So when your sorry and hairy hands get to fondle with the Standard infantry Rifle, it is because we do not wish to immolate the sorry being that the SIr takes a liking to next. We only want him dead.

The second reason is, when we find a world untouched by anything other than itself, we try not to effect them. most of the time you will be undercover protecting one of the merchants as they score information and technology. This is why you will be issued shitty ass weaponry, and not the glorious machine god given tools of mass ass-whoopen.

This leads to my final and third point. When we meet with a race, it is after long consideration and delegation with upper levels of their government. WE DO NOT EVER CHARGE AND ASK THEM TO BUY OUR WARES. WE DO NOT ever give them technology to far beyond what they can handle! The Stock we open to them is carefully considered so it doesn't off the powerscale and lead to something awful!

That could lead to a monopoly on power, and eventually the conquest of the territory they inhabit before rapid and unhealthy expansion! This mean, you moronic troglodytes, that we loose customers and plunge the wordl/galaxy into a state of unending war!

You need to evolve with your technology so that atitudes and lessons are learned with your weaponry. If some barbaric nuisance gave machine guns to the Confederates, than they might have had the brilliant idea to fire it in giant blocks! If We give laser weaponry to kinetic only users, they may try and upscale it to make it bigger! And then they blow a hole in their planet because they didn't learn upscaling makes power grow exponentially, not double it!

That, ladies and gentlemen is why we do not sell anything higher than particle weaponry to anything that cant handle it! That is why when an alien Prostitute tells you Sucky sucky for technology, you tell them no and Proceed to buy local!

I want 15 technologies that are abosultly under no circumstance to be sold on a piece of paper along with why by the end of class tommorrow, where i will instruct your sorry asses onto why they arent allowed to be looked at let alone touched!

Class dismissed get out!

[ballisticwaffles]

Excerpts From Literature Written on the DeMeA:

Treaties On the Machine God: "The common man is but a Cog in the machine. This Cog may be of higher or lower order, but none the less the machine must function with all of its cogs in place. And ultimately each cog decides where it will fit in, in the Machine Gods Eternal Machine. Quoted from the book of the Omnimessiah

"Blessed are the Cogs whose daily toils

Run the Machine our lord and god

in his mighty power sought fit

to grant us. Without their hardship and

struggles, machine kind could not

advance."

Interdimentional Economic Theory: "indeed The Term Credits is a vague definition. A "Credit" is a digitally guarenteed amount of money generalized for local economies. To some, this is a natural progression of economics in space, material paper easy to counterfeit in the age of nano machines and terraforming. However, once one realizes the limited application of Credits once interdimentional Travel was achieved, material wealth becomes far more important.

Credits take from one place are invalid in another, credits after all is a generalized name for a unit of currency. One American Earth Dollar is not equal to a Mexican Earth Peso. and the same applies to Credits as a whole. This has lead to a massive increase in Actual Coinage and Trade based Economic practices.

While both are backwards facing practices, their practicality is born of the unique situation. A gold coin is worth the gold it is minted with, therefore Gold is Valuable without error in any universe. The same applies to any material goods, in which Ivory, a substance harvested from Tusks of Pachyderms, is worth about how much you can sell it for.

This under standing lead to the Draconic Incident, where after a grueling period of work, the DeMeA was paid in hundreds of millions of dollars... in Credits."