Lesson One B

You’ve got mail!

Dear Kristina Z.K.,

We have researched in your history, and as you are the only direct and available successor of The Legend Who’s Name is too Holy to be Spoken Of, we would appreciate it greatly if you left this pitifully small Clan of FW, and joined the higher ranks of the Confederation.
Please send your response no later than the 27th of July. Thank you,

-Bureau of the Confederation.


This, I smashed and tore to pieces. I also took a large gulp of Rakiya while doing it, and burned and burned the ashes. Never would I join the Confederation. Of course, they might want to get me in by force.

Never underestimate them… but never betray your own clan is my motto. Never.

Never. Never. Never.

I stepped back and fourth, kicked a pebble on the road. I apologized when I kicked the leg of a passer-by. I avoided the loud cars by staying on the crowded sidewalk. I looked up, looked up to the FW’s Clan house. It looked big and far away.

It seemed so distant. So beautiful it was.

Nah, just joking. It was ugly like snit.

The only thing that linked me to this gray and mouldy building that stood 2 stories tall was my membership and the fact that they were the only people that accepted my candidature when I needed to join. The people inside were kind. So affectionate, in fact, that they let themselves get crushed and silenced by a few other sister clans. They are weak, weaker than they were before, while Clans straitened themselves up and became inhumanely strong. They were like lions trapped in a cage, able to fight but themselves.
I burned the other paper I earned. I remember the message that was scribbled on it better than I remembered that I was alive.

Be at Café East
At 5PM.
Or prepare to die.

I sighed in disbelief; I couldn’t go there. I had a job to do, primarily greeting Sammy back from his search. It was also illogical to go over to that place, considering it’s already 6 PM. I’ve not seen Fire ever since he gave me the ‘invitations’.

By observing the second message, I couldn’t tell whether they wanted me as a member or wanted to get rid of me for good. Either seemed satisfying to a hungry Clan Leader, considering he’d get rid of an obvious threat and kill the only relative of “The Legend Who’s Name is too Holy to be Spoken of.”

I laugh at that name, really. My hazel eyes can see well enough that his blue ones have nothing similar with mine. Our opinions are contradictive, we do not get along much, and compared to Him, I’m like a disgrace.

Am I?

Maybe so… Who knows?



It was already pretty dark now. Still no sign of Sammy or Fire. Considering that, I guess Fire went out to search for him too. He will be back soon if all’s well.

I contemplated the full street of Gateway in silence, its 26-million population barely enough to keep in a small 60-kilometer island. In there I spotted some hard faces, some even emotionless from the pitiless conditions they were put up against. The Blizzard Police were smart, however. They didn’t let buildings exceed the size of 2 squared kilometres, but let them lift and stack as much as the owner wanted. Only in the poor part of town were there no buildings that virtually couldn’t expand further and had to be stacked. Some buildings were just stacked for the sake of dominance. But there were fields of empty and unused houses.

The only buildings that had permission to expand were the Airport, Parliament and Server system. The Airport was more like an aerial garage, and was build in a manner that even runways were stacked on top, each story being 30 meters tall.

And right now, I watched and listened to an airplane land in a high story of our large and overshadowing airport; the airport had no buildings around it for about 3 kilometres! That was a huge distance for us back at Gateway, because we took all the space we could get.

Also, to add up to the false organization of the Blizzard Police, we had been organized in Central Gateway being the place where all the important buildings were (including that of the Confederation; the clan at power this decade); Western Gateway being the place where the powerful Clans used to be kept at, thus, all the failures, thus implying that it was the worst place to stay at; and Eastern Gateway, the place where moderately new Clans stay. These were all little details that Blizzard liked to elaborate into strong ones, making huge differences in Clan traditions and their rules, and thus prioritizing strength and power of tyranny rather than peaceful Clans.

As I was finishing my sulking and enumerating all the flaws of Blizzard (even though their ideas and principles are genuine), I caught a logo familiar to me from 1 year of good hard work, our own.

The person seemed clueless on what he really is doing, more sleepy and unquestioning rather than confused, with dark brown hair messed up as if he had in a fight with the macho guy from last street. The shirt smock-frock he wore clearly displayed the FW Clan’s Falcon hugging a gun. The pants he wore were old and gray from over the years. He was Sammy indeed.

“Hey, Sammy! Over here!” I yelled, waving my hand to make myself visible. A pair of curious eyes shifted from his invisible destination from me, and rolled in a mocking manner. “What is it? I’m not that ugly!”

“You sure are!” He walked slowly and confidently, showing no sign of weakness although he was in such a weak position only a seconds ago.
This was my turn to roll eyes. “Come on, Fire’s waiting for us.”

“He is?”

“Yep.”

“I was pretty sure I saw him back at Brood Boulevard. Not in a good shape, he seemed.” Now, I could tell the guy had gone through a beating. First off, the black eye. Second, he just seemed like it. “Uhh… I guess you want to go and see him?” I nodded.

“It’s not so far away,” I pointed out. “Two blocks?”

“Three, to be precise.”

“Right.”

We walked in silence past three alleys, until we were at the large boulevard. If you would look down the left end of the street, you’d see a long tail of silver, black and gray cars continuing endlessly until disappearing in a misty fog. To the right, it turned horizontally to become War Avenue, where a few museums were lined up. I couldn’t see any Fire around here.

“Where is he?”

“Uh… He must’ve gone somewhere else.”

And then, it happened. Five fully armoured Confed troops appeared from around the block, making no difference to the street crowd’s business—they were continuing their way as usual with their bustling conversations about everyday life—while Sammy and I were concerned if they weren’t coming for us. I blinked twice and saw them run to us like hungry wolves seeing meat for the first time in weeks.

“Run!”

Sammy pushed through the crowd of people, followed by me who just stepped in the trail he left behind himself. The crowd, angry from us stepping on their toes, blocked our way and let way for the Confeds to come. I stopped and had to yell, “Move it!” to make them change their ways of looking out on us. We were running like crazy from the considerably slower squad of five tailing us.

We were looking for exits, a way to quickly escape from the Confeds—we all knew it was impossible to win by just running, since they had ways to follow us everywhere—and had to resort to turning up to a alley dark enough for us to not see where we were going. It was between buildings at least 4 stories high, both houses of Clans that were either sisters or were their own worst enemies. Now, I don’t care if the Clans are enemies that would shoot us on sight. What I was afraid of was getting my life ended by the Confed—
Dead end.

A dead end! How cruel. Of all the times where time could throw me at a dead end and anger me, it had to be now! I frowned and quickly looked behind me. It was too late. The Confeds had already showed up at the mouth of the alley, and made it so we’re trapped.

They advanced forward. I reached for my gun. Just in case, I thought, in case of necessity. I could see Sammy do the same as me. It was one of the pet peeves we Clan members did. We always carried guns! Now I had to thank that precaution as it was finally put to good use.

Uh, that is, if having to kill with is a good use.

“Sam,” I whispered, “when they come forward and try to shoot, just fall forward and roll yourself in a ball.” I smirked, and looked defiantly at the troops. In truth, the alley consisted of several trashcans, some spaces where you can roll under, and a large dumpster with a space of about 20 centimetres under it.

“Well then!” I said in direction of the Confederation’s dogs. “You’ve got us trapped, and you’ve got us practically unharmful. Now what do you want?”
Silence. They were ready to strike.

“Okay then…” I pointed my gun at them, and seeing them do the same, the first thing I said and did was… “Sam, get the fuck away!” And then, I pushed him towards the dumpster, fired in a Confed’s leg, and jumped under the dumpster.

Well, it was not such a wise decision seeing as I was trapped, but they couldn’t get to me without lifting it. What I was afraid of was it crushing me. In truth, Blizzard would turn their backs on things like these seeing as they were none of their concern, but I just felt darn sorry about mentioning they were doing the right thing. Now at least, I hope the gunshots and Sammy’s pained screams have nothing to do with my own death.

I waited. I knew that since the gunshots continued and that Sammy wasn’t responding, it meant that he was dead. What happened afterwards couldn’t concern the guy less. Now, I was worried about my own survival. Heck, I wasn’t worrying about whether what I did to him was a good thing or not. Now I was only worried for me and my survival only.

I was dizzied by a few shots on the dumpster, obviously displaying that they wanted it to fall on me. Well, unless they were willing to strip off of that armour and try to fetch me from underneath, risking to get themselves shot right in the face, I was not going to go out of there. I smirked and waited for them to give up and just go away.

Eventually, they did. How much time I waited, I had no idea of. What I knew what that it got considerably darker and that it was starting to stink the distinctive smell of a carcass that was left outside for a couple of hours. I slipped out of there, popped my neck and back, and contemplated the dead body.

He was holed up, that I was sure of. The blood that flowed out while he was still living was of large quantity, maybe all of it. It also seemed to me that he had also been rid of all his vital organs’ containment. It simply looked bad.

I sighed. If only Fire and my good ol’ friend Mike would show up at this moment, I wouldn’t have to do the cleanup alone. I started by looking around for some liquid gasoline—it seems that Clans love to have those close to their homes—for Sammy’s funeral.

The best way was to simply light him on fire, so nothing is left. But first, you’ll have to check all his documents for something valuable. That said and done, I resumed preparing him for his funeral; the last thing he’ll ever have to, er, die through. The things I had taken away from him were his iPod, all his cash and a pack of cigarettes. I also had to take his ball pen and notepad, although those were optional. Heck, I liked having other people’s stuff.

I looked at the now thoroughly soaked with gasoline corpse of Sammy, and in his honour, took one of his cigarettes and lit it.

I watched the dead man for another time. And a moment later, the cigarette had dropped and made contact with the gasoline.

He, and his membership to the Falcon Warriors Clan, was now gone.

(Review)

You’ve got mail! Eh.. Yay?

Dear Kristina Z.K.,(<- That comma is supposed to be there?)

We have researched in your history, and as you are the only direct and available successor of The Legend Who’s Name is too Holy to be Spoken Of (Allah?), we would appreciate it greatly if you left this pitifully small Clan of FW, and joined the higher ranks of the Confederation. (Right.. not too bad so far.)
Please send your response no later than the 27th of July. Thank you, (<- Is that comma also supposed to be there?)

-Bureau of the Confederation. Not headquarters?


This, I smashed and tore to pieces. I also took a large gulp of Rakiya(You drunkie!) while doing it, and burned and burned (I did not know that it's possible to burn something twice.) the ashes. Never would I join the Confederation. Of course, they might want to get me in by force. (Basicly.. no.)

Never underestimate them… but never betray your own clan is my motto. Never.

Never. Never. Never. Never never ever! : D

I stepped back and fourth, kicked a pebble on the road. I apologized when I kicked the leg of a passer-by. (Flexible) I avoided the loud cars by staying on the crowded sidewalk. I looked up, looked up to the FW’s Clan house. It looked big and far away. And drowning the sounds with the 120 decibels of sound by a crowd?

It seemed so distant. So beautiful it was.

Nah, just joking. It was ugly like shit. : D

The only thing that linked me to this gray and mouldy building that stood 2 stories tall was my membership and the fact that they were the only people that accepted my candidature when I needed to join. The people inside were kind. So affectionate, in fact, that they let themselves get crushed and silenced by a few other sister clans. They are weak, weaker than they were before, while Clans straitened themselves up and became inhumanely strong. They were like lions trapped in a cage, able to fight but themselves.
I burned the other paper I earned. I remember the message that was scribbled on it better than I remembered that I was alive.

Be at Café East
At 5PM.
Or prepare to die. Why not? A big fully automated gun would be nice to take with although.

I sighed in disbelief; I couldn’t go there. I had a job to do, primarily greeting (/Greet on) Sammy back from his search. It was also illogical to go over to that place, considering it’s already 6 PM. Better hold the time next time..... I’ve not seen Fire ever since he gave me the ‘invitations’. Shy guy eh?

By observing the second message, I couldn’t tell whether they wanted me as a member or wanted to get rid of me for good. Either seemed satisfying to a hungry Clan Leader, considering he’d get rid of an obvious threat and kill the only relative of “The Legend Who’s Name is too Holy to be Spoken of.” Allah?

I laugh at that name, really. My hazel eyes can see well enough that his blue ones have nothing similar with mine. Our opinions are contradictive, we do not get along much, and compared to Him, I’m like a disgrace.

Am I? Para here

Maybe so… Who knows? Para there

But it's way too big hole here!

It was already pretty dark now. Still no sign of Sammy or Fire. Considering that, I guess Fire went out to search for him too. He will be back soon if all’s well.

I contemplated the full street of Gateway (Protoss gateway. Zealot: For Adun!) in silence, its 26-million population barely enough to keep in a small 60-kilometer island. (Reminds me of china) In there I spotted some hard faces, some even emotionless from the pitiless conditions they were put up against. The Blizzard Blizzard??!!! Police were smart, however. They didn’t let buildings exceed the size of 2 squared kilometres, but let them lift and stack as much as the owner wanted. Only in the poor part of town were there no buildings that virtually couldn’t expand further and had to be stacked. Some buildings were just stacked for the sake of dominance. But there were fields of empty and unused houses. Chinese? Let me reform that.

The only buildings that had permission to expand were the Airport, Parliament and Server (U.S West or East?) system. The Airport was more like an aerial garage, and was build in a manner that even runways were stacked on top, each story being 30 meters tall.

And right now, I watched and listened to an airplane land in a high story of our large and overshadowing airport; the airport had no buildings around it for about 3 kilometres! That was a huge distance for us back at Gateway, because we took all the space we could get.

Also, to add up to the false organization of the Blizzard Police (Police? <.<), we had been organized in Central Gateway being the place where all the important buildings were (including that of the Confederation; the clan at power this decade); Western Gateway being the place where the powerful Clans used to be kept at, thus, all the failures, thus implying that it was the worst place to stay at; and Eastern Gateway, the place where moderately new Clans stay. These were all little details that Blizzard liked to elaborate into strong ones, making huge differences in Clan traditions and their rules, and thus prioritizing strength and power of tyranny rather than peaceful Clans.

As I was finishing my sulking and enumerating all the flaws of Blizzard (even though their ideas and principles are genuine), I caught a logo familiar to me from 1 year of good hard work, our own. Yay?

The person seemed clueless on what he really is doing, more sleepy and unquestioning rather than confused, with dark brown hair messed up as if he had in a fight with the macho guy from last street. The shirt smock-frock he wore clearly displayed the FW Clan’s Falcon hugging a gun. The pants he wore were old and gray from over the years. He was Sammy indeed. Go there, turn /greet on and you are done!

“Hey, Sammy! Over here!” I yelled, waving my hand to make myself visible. A pair of curious eyes shifted from his invisible destination from me, and rolled in a mocking manner. “What is it? I’m not that ugly!” Positive guy.

“You sure are!” (More positive) He walked slowly and confidently, showing no sign of weakness although he was in such a weak position only a seconds ago. (When a nice girl is close...)
This was my turn to roll eyes. “Come on, Fire’s waiting for us.”

“He is?” Para para para...

“Yep.” Jesus and Muhammed.

“I was pretty sure I saw him back at Brood Boulevard. Not in a good shape, he seemed.” Now, I could tell the guy had gone through a beating. First off, the black eye. Second, he just seemed like it. “Uhh… I guess you want to go and see him?” I nodded. Noddy, nod me there!

“It’s not so far away,” I pointed out. “Two blocks?”

“Three, to be precise.”

“Right.” Left

We walked in silence past three alleys, until we were at the large boulevard. If you would look down the left end of the street, you’d see a long tail of silver, black and gray cars continuing endlessly until disappearing in a misty fog. To the right, it turned horizontally to become War Avenue, where a few museums were lined up. I couldn’t see any Fire around here.

“Where is he?”

“Uh… He must’ve gone somewhere else.” Fire: You'll soon notice why.

And then, it happened. Five fully armoured Confed troops appeared from around the block, making no difference to the street crowd’s business—they were continuing their way as usual with their bustling conversations about everyday life—while Sammy and I were concerned if they weren’t coming for us. I blinked twice and saw them run to us like hungry wolves seeing meat for the first time in weeks. Doh, double doh?

“Run!” Copz: Stopz or diezorsss!

Sammy pushed through the crowd of people, followed by me who just stepped in the trail he left behind himself. (Ultralisk!) The crowd, angry from us stepping on their toes, blocked our way and let way for the Confeds to come. I stopped and had to yell, “Move it!” to make them change their ways of looking out on us. We were running like crazy from the considerably slower squad of five tailing us. And this is modern I hope?

We were looking for exits, a way to quickly escape from the Confeds—we all knew it was impossible to win by just running, since they had ways to follow us everywhere—and had to resort to turning up to a alley dark enough for us to not see where we were going. It was between buildings at least 4 stories high, both houses of Clans that were either sisters or were their own worst enemies. Now, I don’t care if the Clans are enemies that would shoot us on sight. What I was afraid of was getting my life ended by the Confed—
Dead end. And I guess you prefer the living end.

A dead end! How cruel. Of all the times where time could throw me at a dead end and anger me, it had to be now! I frowned and quickly looked behind me. It was too late. The Confeds had already showed up at the mouth of the alley, and made it so we’re trapped.

They advanced forward. I reached for my gun. Just in case, I thought, in case of necessity. I could see Sammy do the same as me. It was one of the pet peeves we Clan members did. We always carried guns! Now I had to thank that precaution as it was finally put to good use. Not to mention it's illegality?

Uh, that is, if having to kill with is a good use.

“Sam,” I whispered, “when they come forward and try to shoot, just fall forward and roll yourself in a ball.” I smirked, and looked defiantly at the troops. In truth, the alley consisted of several trashcans, some spaces where you can roll under, and a large dumpster with a space of about 20 centimetres under it. Are you really that thin?

“Well then!” I said in direction of the Confederation’s dogs. “You’ve got us trapped, and you’ve got us practically unharmful. Now what do you want?” (Many things... heh heh heh)
Silence. They were ready to strike.

“Okay then…” I pointed my gun at them, and seeing them do the same, the first thing I said and did was… “Sam, get the fuck away!” And then, I pushed him towards the dumpster, fired in a Confed’s leg, and jumped under the dumpster.

Well, it was not such a wise decision seeing as I was trapped, but they couldn’t get to me without lifting it. What I was afraid of was it crushing me. In truth, Blizzard would turn their backs on things like these seeing as they were none of their concern, but I just felt darn sorry about mentioning they were doing the right (Left) thing. Now at least, I hope the gunshots and Sammy’s pained screams have nothing to do with my own death.

I waited. I knew that since the gunshots continued and that Sammy wasn’t responding, it meant that he was dead (Dead end). What happened afterwards couldn’t concern the guy less(Really?). Now, I was worried about my own survival. Heck, I wasn’t worrying about whether what I did to him was a good thing or not. Now I was only worried for me and my survival only.

I was dizzied by a few shots on the dumpster, obviously displaying that they wanted it to fall on me. Well, unless they were willing to strip (: D) off of that armour and try to fetch me from underneath, risking to get themselves shot right in the face, I was not going to go out of there. I smirked and waited for them to give up and just go away.

Eventually, they did. How much time I waited, I had no idea of. What I knew what that it got considerably darker and that it was starting to stink the distinctive smell of a carcass that was left outside for a couple of hours. I slipped out of there, popped my neck and back, and contemplated the dead body.

He was holed up, that I was sure of. The blood that flowed out while he was still living was of large quantity, maybe all of it. It also seemed to me that he had also been rid of all his vital organs’ containment. It simply looked bad.

I sighed. If only Fire and my good ol’ friend Mike would show up at this moment, I wouldn’t have to do the cleanup alone. I started by looking around for some liquid gasoline—it seems that Clans love to have those close to their homes—for Sammy’s funeral.

The best way was to simply light him on fire, so nothing is left. But first, you’ll have to check all his documents for something valuable. That said and done, I resumed preparing him for his funeral; the last thing he’ll ever have to, er, die through. The things I had taken away from him were his iPod, all his cash and a pack of cigarettes. I also had to take his ball pen and notepad, although those were optional. Heck, I liked having other people’s stuff. Theft!!!

I looked at the now thoroughly soaked with gasoline corpse of Sammy, and in his honour, took one of his cigarettes and lit it.

I watched the dead man for another time. And a moment later, the cigarette had dropped and made contact with the gasoline. And the heat?

He, and his membership to the Falcon Warriors Clan, was now gone. And so everything else.


Well, since this is a bit starcraft inspired, I must say i didt like it so much. But it's good writing. Will say; storyline: No, no and no. Writing: Rock on! : D

Hehehe. Thankies. ^^