View Full Version : Tomb Raider Fanfiction Competition #8 -- Entries
http://i237.photobucket.com/albums/ff139/Ooriki/TRC8.jpg
THEME: Unsung Heroes - The world of Tomb Raider is rich with supporting characters, some of whom are more loved than Lara herself. It's time for them to get their time to shine as protagonists. For this competition, your primary character must be someone other than Lara. In fact, she cannot appear at all. The story can of course be about Lara in some fashion, such as say, Kurtis Trent reflecting on his experiences with her. But Lara cannot make an appearance as anything but a memory or a thought.
Other than that, feel free to bring up Bartoli's master plan, the thoughts of the Cowboy prior to meeting Lara in Natla's mines, Sophia's true intentions, Amanda's dreams, or perhaps even some nameless henchmen that had the poor misfortune to run into Lara once and lived to tell the tale.
The deadline is July 16th (two months from this thread being posted)
Rules
Word limit suggested between 100 - 5000 words (I expect most entries will be around 2000 words, but I like giving flexibility if it is needed -- see quote below)
Use proper spelling and grammar
Leave a blank line between paragraphs for the purposes of posting the entry on the forums
The entry must follow the theme outlined above (but how you include the theme is up to you)
The entry must be original, your own work, and specifically written for this competition
The entry may refer to anything from the official games, but not to another person's fan-created content
One official entry per person (if you post more than one that's fine, but indicate which entry will be voted upon)
All entries must be posted in this thread by the deadline
Every participant must vote in the subsequent voting thread in order to have their own entry count
I'm giving this one a longer deadline in response to Eddie's feedback (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showpost.php?p=4571295&postcount=15) regarding overloading the forum with too many contests. Also, the restriction on Lara's participation might make take a bit longer to flesh out plot-wise, and I don't want anyone feeling the pressure of a four-week deadline.
Previous Fanfic Competition Threads for Reference:
Fanfic Competition #1 (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=156663), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=157496), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=157891)
Fanfic Competition #2: Tomb Raider Levels (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=158691), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=159627), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=159983)
Fanfic Competition #3: Without Warning... (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=160356), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=160943), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=161142)
Fanfic Competition #4: Lara at Home (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=161423), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=162584), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=162934)
Fanfic Competition #5: Unlikely Situations (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=163022), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=164174), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=164726)
Fanfic Competition #6: Pick Your Poison (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=164947), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=166250), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=166558)
Fanfic Competition #7: The Sun (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=166559), Voting (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?t=167728), and Results (http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?p=4571332)
Excellent theme, can't wait to see (read) what people come up with. :tmb:
awesome idea!!! :D I can't wait to write and post my entry!
Ward Dragon
17-05-10, 00:40
Yay :D This ought to be very interesting :D
Woot! Read my mind why dontcha, I thought about this as a theme before too. (btw, about time too, I thought you'd not noticed the results of the last comp :o :p)
And you've given us loads of time to come up with something.
*crosses fingers, toes; anything else crossable* must win this round, must win this round
I love the theme. now comes the though part choosing the unsung hero. I think I'm gonna pick one of the baddies(after all without them Lara wouldn't be a herionne hahaha :p).
Eddie Haskell
17-05-10, 12:32
I may write something, always wanted to espouse on the life and times of rat #3 in the original classic. Or perhaps Mtumbo Mganananapoolo from TRIII.....
^ I believe his name was Majumba. Or so I've always thought.
Great theme! I will definitely be entering! :tmb:
Eddie Haskell
17-05-10, 13:17
^ I believe his name was Majumba. Or so I've always thought.
Great theme! I will definitely be entering! :tmb:
No, not that guy. I was referring to his cousin... ;)
No, not that guy. I was referring to his cousin... ;)
Aww. I'm always confusing those two. :(
Eddie Haskell
17-05-10, 13:45
Aww. I'm always confusing those two. :(
It can be difficult, but try to remember that Majumba has a larger copper nose ring and orange-red facial stripes. Mtumbo has a silver nose ring and brick-red facial stripes. :D
But in all seriousness, this may prove to be the most fun for the writers in here. Creativity will be at an all time high, and the imagination can run wild with the possibilities. The only possible "problem" could be if many write about the same character. I suggest (and it is only a suggestion) that we just say who we will be writing about. This way we can get a wide variety of stories to read and no two will compete as to which character iteration is "better".
tranniversary119
17-05-10, 13:51
I have an idea :). If I can find the time to write it, that is.
Ward Dragon
17-05-10, 13:54
I suggest (and it is only a suggestion) that we just say who we will be writing about. This way we can get a wide variety of stories to read and no two will compete as to which character iteration is "better".
I'm planning to write about one of the divers on the Maria Doria. However I need to get clarification on the rules first. Is it okay if I have Lara doing things off-screen throughout the story that my character sees the effects of but never actually sees Lara directly?
Eddie Haskell
17-05-10, 14:07
I find the Shotgun Guy rather interesting. And I like the fact that we know nothing about him, that opens up anything for me.
And as to WD's question, I think that Lara can be mentioned (perhaps only in passing) as she said, just not actively a part of the story. Anyway, that's my impression.
Ward Dragon
17-05-10, 14:15
And as to WD's question, I think that Lara can be mentioned (perhaps only in passing) as she said, just not actively a part of the story. Anyway, that's my impression.
Yeah, but I'm still not sure if my idea fits or not. I don't want to spoil my story so I'll keep it vague, but basically my little diver guy will find evidence of someone else on the ship throughout the story. We'll know it's Lara because who else could it be? But he won't know it's her and he'll never see her in the story.
Edit: Nevermind. The rules say Lara can appear as a memory, so I'll frame it like the diver is telling a story of what happened to him so that way it should be good either way :p Still not going to have Lara feature on-screen though.
Eddie Haskell
17-05-10, 14:23
Changed my mind, I might write about one of the Australian soldiers from the plane crash in TRIII.
Awesome theme. I'm going to start my entry after my last exam on Monday. :)
I think I'll be joining this one :) I've got idea for a story with Amanda as the main character.
I Might be entering this. :p I have to finish my uncharted story first, though then i'll get started on this. :D
Ward Dragon
08-06-10, 11:14
Ghost of the Maria Doria
“I told you it was going to rain today, Mark!” Sarah complained with crossed arms as she stood on the deck of their yacht looking up at the gunmetal gray sky. Her husband chuckled mischievously, “Sunny days get boring after a while. Isn’t this a nice change of pace? We get to see the ocean in a whole new light.” Sarah sighed and ignored the icy sting of the first few raindrops on her face. She turned to go into the cabin but a splash behind her caught her attention. She leaned over the rail and tried to see what had made that noise. “Hey Mark, come over here,” she called, “I think there’s something down there.”
He joined her at the rail and shaded his eyes out of habit although it made little difference in the dim light. “I don’t think there’s…” he began, but corrected himself midsentence, “Wait a minute, I do see something. Over there!” His wife looked where he pointed and at first she didn’t see anything, but then she could faintly make out a black shape against the nearly-black water. Without missing a beat, she grabbed a nearby life-preserver and tossed it out into the water. The ring landed right next to the shape and floated there for a full minute before a hand materialized from the water to clutch it. Mark helped Sarah reel the life preserver back in, slowly enough so as not to yank it out of the person’s weak grasp.
Once the diver was within arm’s length, both Mark and Sarah reached down to pull him up onto the small yacht’s deck. He sat there leaning against the rail for a bit, then hauled himself to his feet and tore off his diver’s mask. “Are you alright?” Sarah asked as Mark simultaneously wanted to know, “What happened?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” came the diver’s response, although he didn’t look the part. He wobbled a bit and then perched himself up on the rail while he massaged his knee. “What happened?” Mark asked again, “Where did you come from?” At this, the diver started laughing. Sarah found his reaction to be quite unsettling due to how out of place it seemed. She protested, “It’s a legitimate question. I don’t see any other boats around here. How did you get stranded?” The diver’s laughter increased in pitch, bordering on manic as he raised an arm and pointed towards the horizon. In the distance a large gray diving rig was barely visible where the gray water merged with the gray sky.
Sarah crossed her arms again, “Really now, you’re obviously NOT alright. I’m going to go radio for help and then we’re getting you to the hospital.” She turned towards the cabin but the diver lunged out and caught her arm, nearly falling off the rail in the process. “Wait!” he exclaimed, “Okay, okay, I’ll explain everything. There’s no need to get the authorities involved.” Sarah shot a puzzled and somewhat suspicious glance at her husband, then shrugged, “Alright, start talking.” The diver settled himself back on the rail, leaning up against the cabin for support as he started telling his tale.
***
My name is Anderson. I was hired by Marco Bartoli. You’ve heard of him, yes? Ah, you have, so you can see why it’s best not to get the authorities involved, right? Good. Now, he hired us to locate the wreckage of a ship his father used to own, went by the name of Maria Doria. We found it alright, oh boy did we find it. We set up that diving rig over there and went down to investigate the wreckage looking for some ridiculously expensive artifact that his father had been carrying when the ship sank. At first, everything was going smoothly. We extracted all of the human remains, searched them for the artifact, and then arranged for a nice burial all proper-like. They deserved better than this, ya know? We couldn’t tell which one was Gianni, but none of them had the artifact anyway so we needed to keep looking through the ship to see if he had hidden it somewhere. We found a few keys to different rooms, but no artifact.
If you had told me that a luxury ship could be such a labyrinth of tunnels, I would not have believed you. That ship was a veritable labyrinth of tunnels. I cannot even imagine what the engineers were thinking when they designed parts of the ship. Who puts a timed switch on the opposite side of the hallway? Really, it’s just… I don’t think that Gianni was quite right in the head, but don’t tell Marco I said so. He’s just as obsessed as his father was, if not more. What’s the big deal with a silly artifact anyway? All the money he’s spent trying to find it is probably more than what it’s worth.
So anyway, we were in the ship looking for the artifact, right? The ship was badly damaged, looked like it had been bombed and torn in half. Naturally parts of it were flooded, but strangely enough parts of it still had pockets of air. That made its design seem even more alien and strange. Nothing looked entirely stable and it seemed as if we could step right through parts of the floor, or ceiling as the case may be. Did I mention half of the ship was upside down? Well it was, and quite disorienting at that.
We thoroughly made our way through an upside-down ballroom of some sort, watching out for broken glass shards as we went, but no sign of the Seraph. We got to a little door with a built-in window and I stopped. “Hey Cruise,” I said, “Didn’t we leave this open when we were clearing out the bodies?” He shrugged, observant as always, and punched the button on the wall to open the door. The other men dismissed my concern and forged onwards.
A few minutes later we came to a heavy steel door which was already open. “I know I left this closed,” I stated, “And that box was over there, not here. What’s going on?” “Relax,” Chase told me with a bit of a giggle, “It was probably one of the other diving teams. Don’t worry about it. Sooner we get that little angel statue, sooner we can scram.” I sighed, “Sounds good. Let’s go.” Chase led the way while Cruise and I followed him through another ballroom and into some kind of boiler room.
“Alright, I KNOW those fires were on when we left before,” I exclaimed, “We were burning off the fuel so that it would be safe to investigate the fuel tanks.” “Whoa, you’re totally right,” Chase giggled again, “That is weird…” Cruise and I both looked at him as he giggled some more, “Don’t blame me, I’m not drunk, I swear! It’s the depth! This deep it’s a wonder we’re not all hallucinating. Or are we?” Again with that giggling. Cruise chimed in, “Nah, we’re not hallucinating. It’s definitely a ghost!” I grit my teeth and said, “Nevermind. Let’s get going.”
At that point we heard Angelo over the headset, “Hey guys, has anyone seen Mendello? He was investigating something outside the ship and he won’t answer.” I replied, “No, but we’ll keep an eye out for him.” “Thanks,” Angelo said with some relief. I sighed, “Well, guess our next stop is outside the ship then…” and I led the way to a tunnel that opened up into an underwater cavern alongside the ship. We swam the length of it looking for our missing diver. Suddenly Chase burst out, “Holy crap, dude! Is that him?” He pointed to a shark in the distance.
I swam closer, harpoon gun at the ready, and saw that the shark was indeed eating something large and man-shaped. I took aim and fired twice at the shark, impaling its gills and eye with harpoons. Chase let out a scream and rapidly fired several harpoons at the shark, wildly missing with most of his shots. Cruise wrestled the harpoon gun away from him and growled, “It’s dead man, calm down…” I could hear Chase’s hyperventilating through my headset. I let Cruise handle him while I swam over to investigate the shark.
The shark was indeed dead, and so was its victim. I pried Mendello’s corpse from the jaws of the oversized fish and dragged him with me as I climbed up into the nearest air pocket. He had several harpoons sticking out of his body, probably thanks to Chase. It didn’t look like the shark bites were severe enough to be fatal, but the hose connecting his mask to his oxygen tank had been severed so he probably drowned to death. What a shame. I didn’t feel like carrying him all the way back, so I radioed to Angelo that we had found Mendello and he should send one of the hired thugs to come fetch his body. Cruise and an only somewhat rational Chase pulled up into the air pocket beside me and made a pointed effort to avoid looking at the corpse. I took the hint and forged ahead.
We swam some more and found ourselves looking up through what must have originally been a glass ceiling over a majestic ballroom. Or at least some kind of fancy place. I wasn’t really sure. I never experienced that sort of luxury myself, much less be able to tell a ballroom from a dining hall when they’re upside down and devoid of furniture. Chase and Cruise floated around at the water’s surface while I swam down to investigate something that caught my eye on the ocean floor. Perhaps that damned Seraph had fallen through the broken glass and landed down here. If only it was that easy…
A scream drew my attention back to Cruise. I could hear gunfire and see blood billowing out around his body from multiple places. Chase was giggling again and firing his harpoon gun wildly up into the air in all directions. I didn’t know what to do. True I had a harpoon gun, but that was for dealing with the odd shark. There weren’t supposed to be human enemies on board. What was going on? “Chase!” I yelled over the headset. Slowly he turned towards me and deliberately raised his harpoon gun, aiming at my chest. “Chase!” I yelled again, “What are you doing?!?” He giggled, “Oh sorry, thought you were the ghost.” Then he turned back towards the air, “See? No one there. Ghost.”
I cautiously swam over to them. The gunfire had stopped and I didn’t see anyone in the room above us. I flipped Cruise over so that his face was to the air and I checked for a pulse, but it was too late. I radioed to Angelo what had happened and demanded an explanation, but he didn’t know any more about it than I did. He told me to get the Seraph and then get the hell out of there. Nice to see he had his priorities in order. No matter that two men had already died, the Seraph was still the primary objective. I shook my head in disgust but I knew that if I returned without the Seraph, Bartoli would likely kill me anyway so may as well get the damned thing first.
Chase and I swam a fair distance to the other half of the ship, which was at least right-side-up on the ocean floor. We made our way through an engine room, some more submerged tunnels and caverns, and what must have been the living quarters of the ship. All the way Chase was giggling and babbling about the ghost, “It killed Cruise, and now it’s coming for you!” “Shut up!” I shouted through clenched teeth, “Shut up and let me think!” The living quarters had definitely seen better days. I scanned the tilted and ruined area, trying to drown out Chase’s litany by humming songs to myself, and finally I came to the conclusion that the artifact was not here. Too bad. I was kind of hoping Gianni had stashed it somewhere in his bedroom so that I could get the hell out already. Onward then…
We found ourselves on the dilapidated deck of the sunken ship, which was miraculously preserved in a huge cavern full of air. Maybe Chase had been right about the pressure before. Maybe we were both hallucinating. This didn’t seem possible, but I decided to go with the flow. However I kept my mask on just to be safe. I still had plenty of air left in my tank, so no sense risking a drowning if this massive air pocket was all in my head. It seemed real enough though.
I walked out onto the middle of the deck, trying to get my bearings and figure out the best place to start looking. Suddenly I thought I caught a trace of movement to my left. I spun to face it but there was nothing there. Then, in the periphery of my vision to the right another moving shadow commanded me to look. Again, nothing. The places were too far apart for someone to have gotten from one to the other so quickly anyway. Chase saw my actions and began giggling even more loudly, “You see it too, don’t you? The ghost! It’s here! It wants us! The ghost will have its due!” With that, he ran off into the darkness.
I called after him but got no response. Angelo overheard me on the headset and wanted to know what was going on, so I told him, “I’m alone in this goddamned death trap with a fricking ghost that has already killed two people, that I know of, probably more, and you want me to find a stupid artifact that isn’t even worth all of this trouble? That’s what’s going on!” Angelo inhaled sharply, “Calm down, the pressure is probably getting to you. If the artifact isn’t anywhere else, then it must be near your current location…” “Goddammit!” I yelled and tore off my headset, crushing it into the splinters of the deck with my heel. Enough! Screw Bartoli, screw this ship, and screw that goddamned artifact. I decided to leave and never look back. I quickly found my way down to the water and then wormed my way through some underwater tunnels until I had a straight run back up to the surface. Now here I am, and that’s my story. Any questions?
***
Mark looked concerned, “How fast did you ascend to the surface again?” “Again?” asked Anderson with a puzzled expression on his face, “No, I only did it once. Very quickly. The ghost was after me so I had no time to lose, ya know?” “Uh oh,” blurted out Sarah, “That’s not good.” Anderson smirked, “No it is not. But at least the ghost didn’t get me, and Bartoli will never have his precious Seraph.” Sarah replied with concern, “We need to get you to a hyperbaric chamber immediately!” She ignored his protests as she rushed over to the cabin to radio for help.
Alone with the diver, Mark asked him, “Why are you so sure Bartoli won’t get his artifact? He has other divers, right?” Anderson laughed, “But I have the key…” “What do you…” Mark started to ask, but stopped as Anderson shakily rose to his feet. Anderson gripped the rail with one hand, then reached into a pocket on his belt with the other hand and took out a key. He smugly stated, “This is the only key we didn’t find the door to. I bet the Seraph is hidden inside wherever this goes.” He laughed, grimly satisfied with himself for depriving his former employer of the prize that had cost so many lives thus far.
Sarah came out of the cabin and saw Anderson standing precariously near the rail. “Oh no!” she exclaimed and she began to rush towards him to pull him away from the edge. “No!” he yelled back, “You can’t have it!” He protectively swung his arm around to move the key away from her, then stumbled as his sudden motion threw him off balance. He spun around and toppled over the rail, cracking his head on the side of the ship as he fell. Sarah screamed and dove in after him. She held him up to the surface and managed to lift him high enough for Mark to grab him and pull him back onto the deck, then she climbed up after him.
Mark sighed and shook his head. She tested for a pulse herself but she couldn’t find one either. She knelt next to the body and began to cry just as the rain turned from a drizzle into a storm. Mark dragged her into the relative safety of the cabin and began to steer the ship back home. They could contact the police once they were on dry land. Or wet land, considering the rain, but in any case something solid to stand on. After that story, he didn’t much like the idea of the ocean anymore, regardless of the weather.
Meanwhile, the storage key drifted down through the depths. After being buffeted by ocean currents and an overly aggressive barracuda, the key found itself tossed into an air pocket where it skipped along the ground and then fell a long way onto a broken piece of the ship. There it sat obediently waiting for the ghost to retrieve it. The ghost would have its due.
Amazing read Ward Dragon!
Ward Dragon
08-06-10, 23:56
Amazing read Ward Dragon!
Thanks :hug: I came up with the idea nearly a month ago but I didn't have the inspiration to actually write it out until last night :p
Interesting read! I thought the diver's death was very fitting for the character.
Ward Dragon
09-06-10, 00:35
Interesting read! I thought the diver's death was very fitting for the character.
Thanks :hug: I'm glad it came together well and seemed appropriately set up :)
I should (hopefully) finish mine tonight. I always find myself getting ready to write and then getting distracted :p
Ward Dragon
09-06-10, 01:15
I should (hopefully) finish mine tonight. I always find myself getting ready to write and then getting distracted :p
Me too :p Then at one point (usually the middle of the night) I suddenly feel like it's the right time to write all the ideas out and then I keep going until it's finished or I fall asleep, whichever happens first :p
Me too :p Then at one point (usually the middle of the night) I suddenly feel like it's the right time to write all the ideas out and then I keep going until it's finished or I fall asleep, whichever happens first :p
yeah, i remember once i had to write a report for class and i seemed to of gotten lost in facebook...then i guess i fell asleep on my bed and i woke up to find i had only written my name :p
Still got an A though :D
Ward Dragon
09-06-10, 03:02
yeah, i remember once i had to write a report for class and i seemed to of gotten lost in facebook...then i guess i fell asleep on my bed and i woke up to find i had only written my name :p
Still got an A though :D
You must have one hell of a name :vlol: Seriously though, I'm the same way. Sometimes the pressure of a deadline provides enough motivation to get it done. I know this contest has another month to run, but I guess I'm used to the one-month deadlines so my brain decided now was time to write :p
:yik: i just realized that we have a another month to work on this..lol.
I guess im still used to the one-month deadline too. :p
I'm writing about Amanda and Natla, im finding myself struggling coming up with dialogue that fits Natla's character.
Ward Dragon
09-06-10, 05:12
:yik: i just realized that we have a another month to work on this..lol.
I guess im still used to the one-month deadline too. :p
I'm writing about Amanda and Natla, im finding myself struggling coming up with dialogue that fits Natla's character.
Ah, that is kind of tricky considering that she has quite different personalities in TR1 versus TRA/TRU. TR1 was more belligerent and cocky, while TRA/TRU seems more manipulative and trying to appeal to people's desires to trick them into doing what she wants. I guess you have to decide which personality suits your story best, and there's some leeway for her to act in between those two extremes since she's been portrayed both ways in the official games :)
:yik: i just realized that we have a another month to work on this..lol.
I guess im still used to the one-month deadline too. :p
I'm writing about Amanda and Natla, im finding myself struggling coming up with dialogue that fits Natla's character.
Natla is freaking difficult to write. I feel your pain. I think I've only written her maybe 3 times (despite her being one of my top 3 favourite characters, probably) because she's so hard to voice!
Indeed, i found myself redoing over and over one of Natla's lines of dialogue for like half an hour. I'm trying to do her manipulative personality but if that doesn't work ill try another.
Indeed, i found myself redoing over and over one of Natla's lines of dialogue for like half an hour. I'm trying to do her manipulative personality but if that doesn't work ill try another.
I found that listening to Natla gloat (and writing it out now and then) to Lara helped me a lot. ("Your father betrayed me in Thailand, and for that I killed him myself," she said smugly, pacing back and forth in front of Lara with the air of a temptress.)
I'm totally not sure what I'm going to write about. >_< I always psych myself out too much for contests like this. "It's got to be epic and funny and not too heavy on my fanon or the sexual content, and just the write length, and really interesting and easy to read." :hea: Easier said than done.
i hope to be able to write something tomorrow but i found it surprisingly hard to start writing about the other characters without in someway mentioning Lara. I decided to go whit my favorite rival of her Pierre Dupont i hope to get his accent right. well i haven;t really decided on a artifact for him to recover yet or what it country it is located in but i hope to get that as i type.
MEETING OF THE MINDS
Neil Burns (Neilcroft)
PG
takes place between LEGEND and UNDERWORLD
It was a crowded Saturday night at the pub and Alister Fletcher
was enjoying a pint after a rather exhausting day researching the
legend of King Arthur for his employer Lady Lara Croft. The Tomb
Raider had acquired the legendary sword Excalibur so she could
use it to help find out what happened to her mother Lady Amelia
Croft, who disappeared when Lara was nine. What did not help
was that Devon "Zip" Gordon, the American tech that Lara hired
a few years prior, kept insisting that Excalibur was the sword
Arthur pulled out of the Stone in the legend. He would be
glad when the affair was over and that the sword was in
the museum at Cambridge University under the care of Professor
Theodore Eddington.
"Alister?" It was Eddington. "How are you, old man? It's been
a while."
The thirtysomething scientist shook hands and sat down next
to the historian and ordered a Guiness. He had been a family
friend to the Crofts for a number of years and had always got
on well with Lara.
"Yes, it has," Alister replied. "How are you?"
"Excellent, thank you for asking. How's Lara?"
"She's well. She's currently on a quest to find out what had
happened to her mother and it involves Excalibur."
"Ah. The legendary Excalibur," Eddington smiled. "King Arthur.
Knights of the Round Table. My kind of story. How is it going?"
"It's going well. Lara has acquired two fragments so far. One
from Shogo Takamoto. The other from from Rutland, Junior."
"Rutland as in Senator Rutland?"
"The same?"
"And the Yakuza head? Our girl certain has a lot of balls."
"Indeed. Of course, we were attacked by Amanda Evert and
what looked to be a creature made of gas. We're all right."
Alister sipped his brew as Eddington took in that bit of news
and let it play around in his brain.
"Amanda Evert? Isn't she supposed to be dead? That was Lara
told me one time she was visiting. Ms. Evert died in Bolivia on
a dig?"
"Apparently, she got out somehow with the creature's assistance
and now is a sort of pet or slave to her."
"How does Lara feel?"
"Guilty. Responsible. Ashamed that she didn't go back to
take a closer look to make sure."
"So, this Zip. Tell me about him."
Alister sighed as he tried to decide how to present the tech
without resorting to expletives.
"He's American and he, at times, can be quite annoying. He
actually thinks that Excalibur and the sword that King Arthur
pulled out of the Stone is one in the same."
"Don't all Yanks? I was in town the other day and I overheard
a group of them talking about Camelot and that Excalibur and
the Sword in the Stone is the same one."
"Bloody Yanks! They are two completely different swords!"
"You know them. No sense of history. All they care about is
MTV and reality shows and wrestling. They couldn't care less
about history."
"Well, I do. Anyway, I will be glad when this is over. I am
tired of Zip bungling mythology and I will be glad when the
sword is in a museum where it belongs and not hanging
about for somebody to steal."
"Somebody like a certain Tomb Raider?" Eddington smiled.
"Touche."
The two clinked glasses.
"To Lara."
"To Lara," Alister toasted. "May she one day be able to retire
and live a quiet life."
"Not bloody likely. I think that song says it best. Dream on."
THE END
here's my entry. enjoy and comment please.:D
Nice! I love how gossipy and anti-American they were. XD It just seemed to fit them, especially Alister. ^_^
ok my entry is done(i wanted to change some of the videophone conversations but couldn't think of anyway to change it.)
well here is how Pierre found St Francis folly.
------------------------------------
Pierre's hunt for St. Francis Folly
One of the biggest treasures Pierre Dupont has found probably Was he Atlantean Scion. And we know that it twas hidden under St. Francis Folly in Greece. But we also know that it he had to do some research in order to find it, and that is because of his update videophone-call he made to Natla. That wasn't his first location or update video he send to Natla. Well here is what he did to find St. Francis Folly. And which other locations he raided to finally get to the Folly.
Someday at Pierre's home. He was doing his daily routine when hos phone rang. He answered the phone and on the other end of the line was a women that opened the conversation with “Hello is this Monsieur Dupont?”.
“Yes Madam. That would be I”.
“so I finally found you. I've heard that you are one of the best in the biz to retrieve artifacts. And I have a job for you if you're interested.”
“OK madam I'm interested but need to know more before I say yes.”
“The artifact I want you to recover is a part of the Scion. And i've managed to narrow the parameter down to a few dozen miles somewhere in Greece.”
“OK madam if I do take the job what is in it for me?”
“I will provide you with the travel expenses and a videophone. And after giving me the Scion I will pay you whatever you deem acceptable.”
“Madam I think we have a deal.”
“No need to tell me your address I already know it.” And she hung her phone up. After that Pierre hung his phone up. And waited for the delivery of the promised Videophone and tickets for the journey which was how he imagined the expenses would be covered. And to Pierre's surprise the delivery was made within a few days. In the box it came in were a brand new yet to be released videophone and a plane ticket to Greece. The date on the ticket was a few weeks way from that day so he made all of his preparations which naturally included the boring research.
In his research he found surprisingly little about the artifact he had to retrieve for the madam. The only thing he learned about the artifact were some rumors, a possible Atlantean origin and 2 names Qualopec and Tihocan. One of the rumors was of a possible 3rd Atlantean ruler that where female. But he dismissed it because according to the same rumor she would be still alive, and he deemed that impossible. So due to that he didn't even bother to read her name. A few weeks later at the day his flight left had his bags packed and a few books to continue the research mid flight. But in the few hours he had during the flight he learned nothing new. After he landed in Greece he set up the videophone and called the 1 speed-dial telephone-number on it. A moment later the same women answered the call.
“Ah Monsieur Dupont I see you have arrived in Greece.”
“Yes madam but could you provide me with some more information because it is hard to find the things with the little I know.”
“ok all I well tell you is that the piece you retrieve is from Tihocan. If my sources find more I will give you a call”
“But madam can't you really tell me more?”
“nope I can't monsieur Dupont.”
That is where she hung up. Pierre was disappointed because now he only knew that some of his research was confirmed well 1 name but other then that he had nothing new to go on. Thanks to that confirmation he followed the first rumor that the tomb of Tihocan was located somewhere in a cave deep in a mountainous region so he made his way to a mountain village where he stayed until the madam who had contracted him gave him a call. Pierre didn't have to wait long because the next day she called him.
“Monsieur Dupont my sources have discovered that the most consistent rumors are that the tomb is hidden under a citadel on top of a mountain or pinnacle or something.”
“Thanks madam I will check every mountaintop and pinnacle to find your precious artifact. But before you hang up I want to talk about the payment.”
“all-right but remember you get nothing before I get the artifact.”
“ok madam what I want first is that rumor to be proven wrong that I tamper with artifacts. And second I want the media to wait me up when I hand over the artifact. And finally a few million should be sufficient.”
“ok I can arrange all but I cannot promise that the rumors will be stopped.”
“i will find this Scion now will call you when I find this citadel.”
there the call was ended and Pierre started climbing man mountains but he didn't dismiss his firs lead yet so he also checked every cave, and one cave was big enough to support the rumor so he ventured deeper carefully placing step after step to make as little noise as possible. To mask his scent he covered himself in cave-dirt. A few minuted in the cave he saw a gorilla walking and making a show which he thought was a show o impress a female gorilla. So he made his foots as flat as possible and slow took each step while avoiding twig's and loose pebbles as much as possible. It took a few minutes but then he was certain the beasts no longer could hear it if he started picking up the pace so he did and went deeper in the cave. A few hours later he came to a dead end much to Pierre's disappointment. And another few hours later he was outside again. A while later he came across a stream where he decided to make camp for the day and he washed the dirt of of him. After he finished that he went in his tent and to sleep.
The next day Pierre found that his rations he took with him were ransacked. He followed the freshest footprints and found the thief a highly experienced hiker. He wanted to confront the hiker but he was too late she was already dead, and Pierre could clearly see she had an unfortunate accident she fell from the cliff Pierre had plans for climbing next to see if the citadel was on top of it. He took back his rations that weren't eaten and climbed the cliff-side. On top of the pinnacle he was astonished to see a intact citadel and one he even recognized it was St. Francis Folly. He decided to make a fire and eat some rations and drink something before he videophoned the madam about his progress.
After he made the call the madam answered him with “Ah monsieur Dupont. You have something to report?”
“Good news madam. Your information was correct. I have located my piece of the Scion.” during that he grabbed the camera piece of the videophone and zoomed in at St. Francis Folly. And said “Voila. It is buried under a place called St. Francis Folly.” the madam who still was anonymous was delighted to hear that so she replied with “that's great after you've retrieved it we can talk about the reward and see if you want to change anything of your requested things so far.” there the call ended and Pierre entered St. Francis Folly.
the end
"I'm finally here,I'll propably pass unoticed,Lara is at Ghana at the moment."
Amanda climbed the entance gate easily,she was wearing tall boots and that gave her an advantage.She opened the front door and walked in the hallway.
Voices where heared.
"And I found that..."
Amanda picked a smoke bomb and threw it.
"Oops we have a pro..."
Zip and Alister fell to the ground.Amanda made sure Winston has left the manor before she broke in.He was old so the smoke may have killed him.She had about fifteen minutes to search the whole manor.She begun with Lara's room.
"Now,let's see if I still remember where the rooms are.It's sure in the upper floor but...where?"
She entered to the correct hallway by chance and she got into Lara's room.
"Bingo!Now let's see.She propably keeps precious things in her vault,and the vault has a password for sure.It must be somewhere here."
She searched a bit Lara's stuff but she found nothing.Then she accidently stumbled and pressed the button that opened the secret passage.
"Now that's a surprise."
She followed the dark path and finally reached the library.She got to the upper floor.
"Nothing here.Damit!"she growled as she searched between some books.Then she looked at her watch.
"Ahh,bloody hell.I have only ten minutes left."
She run to the exit as quickly as she could.She was about to leave but then she remembered.
"Wait,I haven't checked the tech-room yet." She went back and searched for information at Zip's computer.
"Another piece of Excalibur! Kazakhstaan.Hmmm,let see if Lara will be quick enough."
She run out again and went to her car.
"Start driving."she ordered her driver.Then she called Rutland.
"James I've got informaation,I didn't found the Ghalali key though,Lara doesn't have it.I found another piece of Excalibur,in Kazakhstan."
Rutland sounded like he was in terrible pain.
"What happened? Baby are you hurt?"Amanda asked concerned about her lover.
"I'm fine,Lara's coming back at the manor,are you finished?"
"Yes,I'm heading for my home and then Kazakhstan,you'd better go and rest for a while,I'll take care."
"Good luck!"
THE END!!!
Note:I wanted to ask something.The voting begins at July 16 or we can vote now?How many times are we allowed to vote? Thanks! :)
msalpha2omega
24-06-10, 20:11
^The entries stop at July 16th, and a voting thread will be set up on the same day or the next. You can only vote once, and you usually vote for three entries. More details on the way you vote will be on the voting thread.
Finishing up my entry at the moment, I'll edit this post with it later. :)
EDIT: Here it is, it's not much :o
Alternative Lara's Shadow ending
The woman stood in the middle of the room, looking at her reflection on the broken mirror. She could only see her body, as there was a big piece missing from the mirror, at the place where her face should be reflecting. She suddenly felt the corners of her lips moving upwards, forming a mysterious smirk. She wasn't feeling happy at all. Then why was she smiling? She wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Even if she had the words, though, she couldn't find he courage to say what she wanted. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth in determination.
"Ohk Eshivar."
The woman froze with her mouth open. She didn't manage to say it after all. And now, she was going to fall in the darkness for eternity, without saying those desired words. She felt her hand reaching for her holster and taking out the pistol. She closed her eyes and smiled even more widely. A tear left her yellow shiny eyes, as the gun's barrel was touching her forehead.
This was the end.
She made another last desperate effort to speak, as her finger was closing around the trigger. No. She wasn't going to surrender in death without saying what she most wanted to say in her life.
"My mistress. Natla, my queen..."
She listened to the weak click of the trigger and a second before the bang, she set herself free.
"I love you..."
Darkness hugged her never loved figure and saved her from the impact with the ground and she was hearing the last word her loved one screamed, as if it was coming from another world.
"NOOOOOOOOoooooooo......."
Thanks for the info,nice story BTW :tmb:
msalpha2omega
24-06-10, 22:37
No problem, yours was very nice too!
Great storys! Both of yours were a great read! :)
As usual I won't be reading just yet, but I wanted to say that I have a story in the works. I decided to give Janice a chance to shine. Don't worry, I intend to keep to the pg13 rule, it won't be too risque. :p
As usual I won't be reading just yet, but I wanted to say that I have a story in the works. I decided to give Janice a chance to shine. Don't worry, I intend to keep to the pg13 rule, it won't be too risque. :p
Janice was funny I always loved that---->"It's early yet.Move along Ma Chere.You make the place look crowded." :vlol:
^I'm afraid you'll be seeing a different side to Janice.
Alone in Paris.
The streets of Paris have hardened me, made me impervious to life's hardships. They say Paris is the city of romance, of song and dance and laughter. Ah, Gay Paris, a place for lovers to stroll hand in hand along the river Seine, under moonlight. A place swimming in the aromatic scent of spectacular food and magnificent wines and fascinating culture. A heady mix that is sure to intoxicate the intrepid traveller causing him to fall in love with the city and its people.
Little is known of the goings on of the back streets, home to the lowly and desperate. That side of the city is ignored, forgotten, to be brushed aside like dust under the carpet. People don't want to think of the seedier side of the city they love. They eat, drink, dance the night away, unaware or conveniently ignorant that the dregs of society are but feet away, keeping out of sight, scurrying for protection from the elements like rats to a sewer. The dark side of the city isn't seen by the tourist or the rich. Oh, they know it is there, like in any city, but they like to pretend otherwise; anything to block out the truth.
When I came to Paris in my late teens, I was full of hope of what the big city could offer me, with the lights of the Eiffel Tower to light my way to greatness. I procured myself a job as a waitress to pay my way through dance school. I rented a dingy little room in a shared house. It wasn't much, but it was all I could afford at the time. I was just like any other student really, just trying to make something of myself.
I worked hard at my job and in classes. I was told I was a good dancer, could make something of myself if I put the hours in. But money was tight, I was struggling to pay the bills. The usual story for many like me. I took on extra shifts at the restaurant where I worked, which had a knock on effect to my training; my dancing was beginning to suffer. I was in debt, my morale was low, I could see my dream slipping away from me. I was at all time low and I had no-one to turn to. I'd left my family and friends far away in the country, I didn't even have the change to make a phone call to them.
One night, the restaurant had closed and I found myself sitting alone in the dark, nursing my sorrows over a hot cup of coffee bought with my meagre tips. There were no freebies at 'Marcel's'. A noise coming from out back alerted me to the presence of another waitress. I'd thought I was alone. Antoinette joined me at the table. Working long shifts at the restaurant and drinking had taken its toll on her once pretty face. Age had not done her any favours. She was thin, pale and her face was lined. She was only thirty-five, but could have been much older. Guilt crept in as I hoped to myself I wouldn't end up like her. She'd been good to me when I started, shown me the ropes and how best to handle the regulars. She lit a cigarette offering me one, which I declined.
“What troubles you Cherie? She said, lifting my chin with a red polished fingernail.
And so I told her all my woes, tears stinging my eyes.
“Ah, I have ze solution, I know someone who can 'elp.”
Antoinette continued to tell me of a man she knew who could set me up with an enterprising 'business' solution. I didn't know how it could help, I didn't have any experience in business. I told my friend this.
“Do not worry, ma chère, you don't need any experience. Just contacts. You will be earning good money in no time.” Antoinette's words were full of assurance and it eased my mind a little. How naive I was.
A week later and I was presented with my first 'client'. I was petrified. I had no idea what was expected of me. All I had been told was to listen to the client's needs and provide the service. What service was it, I wondered. What if I couldn't do whatever it was?
“It'll be simple,” Remy had said pushing me through the door into a small bedroom. I couldn't see how a business deal could be agreed upon in a mildew ridden bedroom, wouldn't an office be better?
I was trembling when the man, small and balding and smelling badly of BO entered the room. He advanced towards me, getting so close I could smell the metallic scent of old alcohol on his breath. It made me gag. He was leering at me and as I tried to back away, he went to grab at my arm. I was so scared of this man, I started to cry. I made an effort to stop the tears, gulping down the lump in my throat. Perhaps I sensed it wasn't wise to show weakness, I really can't tell you.
“H...how can I 'elp you?” I managed to stammer. The man was unbuttoning his trousers. As it dawned on me what it was he wanted, I was appalled, ashamed. It must have shown on my face.
“No need for pretences,” the man drooled, “We both know you enjoy it, whore.”
“No...I don't understand,” I said, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I was shaking so badly now, I thought my teeth would shatter from grinding together. The man grabbed my hand, but I managed to wrench my arm away from his grip. I ran out of the room and attempted to flee the building. I would have succeed too, but Remy caught me just as I'd reached the front door.
Remy was furious with me telling me the man had been a valued customer. I'd lost Remy a lot of money.
“You go back in there and wait for the next client!” he'd shouted
“But, I don't want...”
“You signed a contract, miss. You owe me. Or can you pay now?” he sneered. He knew I couldn't afford to. My rent was due along with other bills. My wages as a waitress wasn't enough to cover it all. I did as I was told, resolving to get out of my 'contract' as soon as I could. In the meantime, perhaps I'd be able to block out the awful things I was expected to do? Maybe Antoinette would help me find a way out. But I felt awful about that, she'd helped me so much already. It didn't occur to me to be angry at her – it had been her who'd told me about Remy and his so called 'business' after all. Maybe she was just as trapped as I was? We had to stick together.
I soon learned that getting free from Remy wasn't going to be as easy as I had hoped. He threatened to tell my boss at the restaurant what I was up to. I needed that job. It was my only way out. Long shifts at the restaurant and now working for Remy meant I was struggling with my dance classes; I was often too tired to concentrate, unable to remember the moves. My teacher became impatient and, after a few weeks of missed lessons, I was thrown out of school.
I was at my lowest at that point in my life. I was thrown into a whirlwind of despair. I tried to get extra hours at the restaurant, not just for the extra money but to avoid Remy. But business wasn't good, they were struggling to keep the staff they had as it was. If it wasn't for Antoinette's constant friendship, I'm not sure I could have gotten through.
Months passed and I had managed to save a bit of money. If I could save enough, maybe I could move away. Perhaps I could go back to my parents. But that was no good. I hadn't found the courage to tell them I was no longer dancing. They thought I was destined for great things. So, what to do? I'd lost a lot of weight and my health was suffering. My shifts at the restaurant were dwindling, the owner feared he'd have to close up. Antoinette had already lost her job. To make ends meet she suggested the two of us ditch Remy and go 'freelance'. With my friend by my side, I had the courage to stand up to Remy and his threats. We were finally free to earn our own money instead of the mere twenty percent Remy allowed us to keep.
It wasn't the most glamorous or desirable of career choices, but what choice did I have? I was uneducated, with no prospect of getting work. In my spare time I had gone to every dance school in Paris without any luck. No one wanted to take on a drop out who couldn't pay the fees. My dream was over.
**
That was six years ago. I am completely alone now: Antoinette died two years ago. I am still doing the only thing I know. I can't say I exactly enjoy my line of work, but I suppose I have learned to appreciate it for what it is. I earn good money, earned from regular grateful clients. I have tried, over the years to look for more 'respectable' work, but with no qualifications to speak of, and no experience other than the job at the restaurant that I finally lost when the owner was forced to sell, I can't get references. This is my life now. I have accepted it. I am one of the undesirable that taint the great city that its residents prefer to turn a blind eye to.
That is until the Monstrum killings. Paris was forced to wake up to the reality that the glorious city isn't as pretty or glamorous it is dressed up to be. The killings have reminded the ignorant that there is more to gay Paris than can ever be guessed at to the everyday tourist.
The streets have been deserted for weeks now. Only the desperate or stupid will venture out unless it is absolutely necessary. And of course, there's me, whose living depends on any work I can get. These are desperate times.
Which is why I was surprised to be approached by an English lady early one morning a couple of days ago. She didn't seem desperate or stupid, and by the sound of her upper class accent, she wasn't in need of easy cash. What she did require was information. She seemed very interested in the Monstrum. I didn't know or care what her business was, so I told her all I knew before telling her to move along. After all, she was taking up valuable time for this Working Girl.
Finis
I hope this isn't breaking any rules. I hope you like it.
Rai, I LOVE it. :D good writing! It was so good!
Guys I'm afraid that I'll be gone on holidays on the 16th of July,that means I can't vote :'( Oh well.Don't vote my story either,it will be more fair that way.
hey all,
I will also be gone that week for my sister's wedding in Michigan,
but please vote for my story by all means. I wish everyone good
luck and may the best entry win.:D
hey all,
I will also be gone that week for my sister's wedding in Michigan,
but please vote for my story by all means. I wish everyone good
luck and may the best entry win.:D
I'm afraid that you can't get voted.In the rules says that every partisipant MUST vote.But since me and you will be gone that day we can't vote or get voted.
I'm afraid that you can't get voted.In the rules says that every partisipant MUST vote.But since me and you will be gone that day we can't vote or get voted.
hey,
well, in that case, here's my vote (though it's a bit early)
1-Rai
2-LNHSNHGTDS (you)
3-Ward Dragon
the best of luck everyone.;)
wow, really great rai! :tmb:
:vlol: i just read the alister one, and i thought the ironic part was the mention of the song Dream on by Aerosmith :vlol:
hey,
well, in that case, here's my vote (though it's a bit early)
1-Rai
2-LNHSNHGTDS (you)
3-Ward Dragon
the best of luck everyone.;)
Oh you voted me,thanks :hug: In that case I'll vote on Friday,one day before I leave.
I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to start voting until all the entries are in... sorry.
i think so too but the and i think the voting will be long enough so the entrants that go on vacation can still vote(and if not it wouldn't be really fair because i too have a vacation impending.(in a few weeks around the time voting starts and i wouldn't want to be disqualified due to that). all i can hope is that ashnod is so kind to give plenty of voting time when voting starts.
i think so too but the and i think the voting will be long enough so the entrants that go on vacation can still vote(and if not it wouldn't be really fair because i too have a vacation impending.(in a few weeks around the time voting starts and i wouldn't want to be disqualified due to that). all i can hope is that ashnod is so kind to give plenty of voting time when voting starts.
yeah voting is usually at least a week, and I'm sure we could extend it since summer is a prime vacation time.
yeah voting is usually at least a week, and I'm sure we could extend it since summer is a prime vacation time.
Yeah,but I'll be gone untill August.
I suggest that everyone that will be on holidays during the voting should not get voted.Since he/she will not vote they shouldn't get votes either.
Well here is my entry. I apologize for it being long. Hope you all enjoy! :D
Alliance
Amanda screamed at a tall dark figure in the corner of the room. Begging for help, Amanda tired to shake her foot out of the grasp of the rocks. The water was rising with each second, her lungs felt as if they were being filled with sand. The ceiling gave way and sent down large jagged rocks toward Amanda. She could feel the rocks impact shatter her bones, burying her and the remainder of her hope to stay alive. Under the weight of the rocks, Amanda grasped the stone in her hand until it dug into her palm. The instant Amanda felt her life slipping away the stone engulfed her darkness. Amanda screamed until she had no voice left to scream. Around her, the darkness was alive. It was cold and wet and malevolent and without end. She could hear the entity that slaughtered her friends growl in her ear. The terror would have caused her to lose all touch with sanity, but one thing made her hang on: She could sense James in the darkness. She could hear him calling to her.
“Amanda wake up!” his voice reaching down to her.
She reached out her hand toward the direction of the voice, while the entity slowly consumed her mind and dragged her deeper into the darkness.
Amanda awoke with a violent scream. She found her self in Rutland’s arms, her body covered in a cold sweat.
“Shh, it’s all over. It was just a dream.” Said Rutland holding her tighter as her heart raced. Rutland began tracing his hand down her cheek.
“James…thank god.” Amanda broke down in tears on Rutland’s chest.
~*~*~
“Amanda!” Rutland called as he turned the corner of a helicopter. He saw Amanda leaning over the railing of the ship as it ripped through the light blue pacific waters. He watched her in the soft, late afternoon light. She was long and lean, her movements languid and sensuous as a cat stretching In the sunlight. She wore tight jeans and black boots, her platinum blond hair billowing over the upturned collar of her black leather jacket. Whatever she was looking at it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as what he was seeing in front of him. Amanda played with the wrath stone that was secured tightly around her neck, the nightmare from last night still fresh in her mind.
“Were almost there.” Said Rutland assuring her.
Amanda had a cold look on her face like a marble statue. Her eyes locked on the faint outline of an island nestled in the distance.
“Let’s just hope it’s worth it this time.” She hissed through her black lipstick.
Rutland stood next to her against the railing shoulder to shoulder enjoying the sensation of her wind blown hair tickling his face.
“Well judging by that tablet you found in Greece this place could be the holy grail of everything you’ve worked for.”
Amanda turned and tried to stare into Rutland’s eyes, but his thick sunglasses hid his chocolate brown eyes that she always enjoyed staring into.
“Plus I don’t think she will get here before we do.” Said Rutland pushing back his sunglasses with a forefinger.
Amanda smirked and brushed passed him walking toward the steps leading up to the higher levels of the ship.
“Please, I want her to show up, I’ve been waiting a long time to say something to her. I have a little present to put her in her place. She’s had it coming for a long time.” Amanda said twiddling with her wrath stone, her eyes wild with hate.
~*~*~
In the upper levels of the ship, Amanda came creeping in quietly watching as her hired mercenaries loaded their guns and operated the ship.
“How much farther?!” Amanda demanded an answer.
“About thirty minutes away give or take, in the mean time you mind telling me what in gods name were doing all the way out here?” said the lead diving mercenary.
The divers eyes seemed like a baby blue color that Amanda could find her self lost in at times. The diver scratched his shaved head waiting for a reply.
“We don’t pay you to ask questions, only take orders.” Said Rutland butting in.
The diver crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side with a smile on his face.
“I think we deserve an answer for why were going to waste our time out here. I’d like to see you last one day in our line of work pretty boy”
Rutland just smirked in reply.
Amanda walked over and took a fragment of rock out of a compartment in the wall. The fragment was tucked between rows of historical novels. She threw it at the diver, he caught it as if he were catching a bowling ball it was so heavy. He examined it and shrugged his shoulders.
“What is this?” he said sounding annoyed.
Amanda rolled her eyes and swiped the rock fragment from his hand.
“This stone is a map, a map outlining the very land structure of Atlantis before it broke apart. I found that there is still one last location on the map that exists and that’s what were heading after.” Said Amanda pointing to the island now coming more into view.
“And if what Amanda says is true we’ll be digging up a fortune.”
“Evert, we’ve come as close as we can to the island.” Said a mercenary approaching the group.
“Gather your men and lets head out.” Rutland ordered.
“Right away” The diver said sulking.
Amanda came walking out to the helicopter pad as the island rested in the distance. Mercenaries were running past her and hopping into the copters. The spinning blades felt like a tornado as Amanda’s hair flailed in the wind. She could feel the vibrations of the engines under her boot heels.
Amanda took a step into the cockpit of the helicopter and climbed inside as the screeching sound of the blades spinning caused her migraine to feel like nails being jammed into her head. She sat down and grabbed hold of the railing. The copters lifted off the ground slowly and then shot off one by one toward the island like a flock of birds.
As they got closer they could see that the island looked as if a thousand bombs had gone off on it, only rubble kept the islands deformed shape together.
“I thought you said this was an island! This just looks like just a pile of rocks.”
“Keep going!” Amanda yelled.
The copters slowly and gently landed on the rubble as it shook back and forth. Amanda hurled herself out and landed on a shaky jagged piece of rock. The copters wind still blowing her hair in her eyes. Mercenaries got their equipment out and began stabbing the ground and drilling down. Amanda could feel the earth moving beneath her as the rocks began to move on by one. She could feel as if she was standing on the roof of a glass building. Like a hollow space was just a few feet beneath her.
Time moved slowly, like honey running uphill. Men stabbed the ground with large drills that ripped apart and shattered the rock in its way. The drill made an ear piercing wine that sounded like a million finger nails against a chalk board. Amanda held her hands that were wrapped in leather cloves cuffed over her ears. Everything suddenly sounded like a soft hush, like listening to someone talk through a wall. The mercenaries had a look of excitement splashed on their faces, there smiles shining. Amanda removed her hands and all the sound came blasting back into her head.
“We’ve broke through Evert! Were going to have to climb down from here!” yelled one of the men at the drill. The fresh crater in the earth looked like a infinite black abyss. Heat and Humidity came pouring out, like opening an oven.
Ropes were unraveled down into the fresh hole. Amanda’s men pushed others in front of them, too engulfed in a sensation of fear to go first. Something didn’t feel right, but Amanda didn’t care, she came to get what she wanted and wasn’t going to leave without it. The diving caption pushed the men out of the way and firmly placed his hand against the rope, he then jumped down disappearing into the shadows. The sound of the souls of his feet hitting the bottom lifted to the surface.
“Everything ok?” called Amanda.
The caption let go of the rope and examined his surroundings. It was pitch black, he was standing in a beam of light from the hole above that barely illuminated a few feet above in front of him. The pattern on the floor was complex, a spider web of symbols and architect that made him nauseous looking at it for too long.
The diver pulled his machine gun around and into his hands. He switched on the light attached to the backbone of the gun that emitted a blue tint to it. He loaded his gun and the click of the new bullets entering the gun echoed through the chamber. He stepped forward, his finger on the trigger as he shined the light around the room. Fallen rocks and crumbled pieces of pillars laid scattered around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him, he presumed nothing could of survived a cave in like this.
“Clear!” the diver yelled up the shaft of light.
Mercenaries nodded with relief to one another and glided down on the rope. Amanda was next, Rutland put his hand on her shoulder and smiled a crooked smile. He knew this was what Amanda was waiting for, and he was happy for her.
As Amanda descended down into the chamber the snap of her heels stabbing against the floor as she landed alerted the other men to swarm around her. Amanda didn’t need protection, but Rutland paid them to do so anyway.
Mining equipment was being lowered down, each mercenary had arms full of pickaxes and flashlights.
“Alright lets get to work were burning daylight lets go!” Rutland commanded.
Men stabbed the rock with their pick axes. Flashlight beams danced in the darkness. Amanda wondered to the other side of the room swiping away the dust with her hand off a wall. The piercing sounds of the pickaxes gave Amanda a migraine she was quite familiar with. Rutland approached her and laid his hand on her boney shoulder. Amanda turned with a grim look on her face, her hand lightly placed in a fist.
“you…ok?” Rutland asked concerned.
“Something doesn’t seem right…”
Amanda was engulfed with the feeling you get walking into a room and everyone’s staring at you. She felt as if she was being watched by thousands of eyes tracking her every move.
A scream suddenly interrupts Amanda’s thoughts. The men all at one halted their work, a look of horror splattered on all of their faces. The scream echoed through the corridor. It sounded like a mix of a lion’s fiercest roar and a baby’s most high pitched cry.
“What the hell was that?” Rutland mumbled to himself.
Figures leaked from the cracks and crevices of the rubble, dozens in numbers. A hundred black eyes locked their sites on everyone. The figures stepped further from the shadows and closer into the light while more came from behind them. The figures were catlike in stance, flesh exposed like a pile of raw meat shaped into the form of a cheetah.
Out of fear men lifted their guns, their fingers trembling over the trigger. One of the creatures let out a roar, blood glistening on its fangs.
The diver checked over to observe Rutland and Amanda and then took his focus back to the creatures that seemed to suddenly double in number.
“On my mark” the diver alerted.
Before the diver even could take the breath in to make another order, the creatures lunged forward sinking its teeth into a mans arm. Before anyone could take in what was happening, all the creatures started charging in.
The men unleashed round after round of bullets at the creatures. Bullet shells splashed over the floor and blood lined the walls.
“You two! Get out of here!” the diver caption ordered as he took out several creatures with only a few shots. Rutland grabbed Amanda’s arm and tried to pull her away but she kept her ground.
“Stand back” she hissed through her lips. Her wrath stone began to glow and pulsing and violent red. The stone started bleeding shadows like ink underwater, like a cloud of blood from a shark bite. Amanda could feel the stones power swimming through her veins, she loved the sensation as if it was a drug. It made her feel powerful, like a god in the sense that she could do anything and there was no reason to be afraid. However she always felt as if the stone was in control, like a drug addiction. The shadows spread over her hands, distorting its features.
A creature came charging toward Amanda. Its tongue twitching behind its teeth, ready to dig its teeth into her flesh. With just a swipe of her arm, Amanda let out a surge of shadows that erupted from her finger tips and sent the creature flying against the pillars like a rag doll. More came charging toward her, and each was swallowed and torn apart by shadows one by one. What seemed like an eternity was only a minute. Sixty seconds ago over thirty people stood in the room, now only a mere ten remained. Blood was washed over the floor, and massacred body’s laid next to each other. The shadows fled back into the stone and Amanda fell to her knees. She still wasn’t used to the rush the stone gave her.
“What the hell were these things?” the diver caption yelled reloading his hand gun.
“How am I supposed to know?” Amanda said staring dead into his eyes.
“Caption! I think we might of uncovered something!” a mercenary called.
A small piece of what looked like a wing was hanging out of the underside of a pillar. The men started to lift it but slowly started to give up. Amanda rolled her eyes and once again activated the wrath stone. The pillar lifted itself from the ground. Wrapped in darkness, it floated in midair, twitching spastically. It was carried over a few inches and then the shadows released their grip on the pillar and it fell and shattered on impact on the floor. Everyone’s jaws dropped, some grabbed their mouth in disgust. Revealed under the pillar was a pale, heavily wounded body in the fetal position. It appeared to be a women, it was hard to tell since its hair was horribly singed and a hand was masking its face. On its back were two wings that looked as it they were put through a shredder. Only the bone seemed to be intact. A finger twitched, and a wing started to curl up.
“Get this into a containment area on the ship.” Amanda ordered.
~*~*~*~
Months passed and the ship drifted near Iceland, snow and ice began to pile up on the deck of the ship. Inside Amanda walked into a large open room, a giant cylinder glass container in the middle with wires and monitors attached to it. Amanda walked up to the glass while Rutland watched through the railing of the upper catwalk. Amanda placed her hand on the cold glass wiping away the condensation to get a better look inside. The body still lay in the same position. Long strands of golden hair started to grow from its head. The wings became longer and nerve endings and veins started interconnecting with one other to form the skin right in front of Amanda’s eyes.
“What’s the story?” Rutland asked from above.
“She’s healing herself. let’s just hope she’s worth the wait.”
Rutland wondered away and Amanda took one last look at the creatures vitals before she started to walk off.
The creatures eyes suddenly flashed open, air flooding its lungs. The light blinded it, all the colors of the room were all blended together. One by one her senses came rushing back to her. Memories started up again in her head, followed by anger as she remembered the last face she saw before the pillar crushed her.
The heart monitor went spastic; Amanda rushed back to the room to see the figure standing up. It’s legs felt weak, it took one step at a time forward until it saw itself in a reflection. It was wearing a white jumpsuit, and realized the full extent of its wounds. Amanda stepped in the room, her heart pounding.
“If I recall correctly, you must be Amanda Evert, it seems you did survive after all.” Natla purred through the speakers of the prison.
Amanda marched forward, the heels of her boots snapping against the sleek titanium floor.
“How the hell do you know me?” Amanda glared into Natla’s silver eyes. It felt like staring into a well that went on forever, like staring at something from another world, intelligent and all knowing. However describing Natla as intelligent would be implying human qualities on something decidedly inhuman.
Natla wasn’t intimidated by Amanda in the slightest; she knew she could kill her if she wanted to. However Amanda had the upper hand by holding the key to her freedom from a glass prison designed just to contain her like a lab mouse. Natla predicted that she was going to have to obtain a new puppet. Amanda was over qualified for the job. By using Amanda as her new puppet she could orchestrate her escape all Natla needed to do was slowly tie the strings on Amanda’s mind by manipulating her hatred for someone they both despise with a passion. She casually turned her back to Amanda’s sad attempt at a threatening glare and slid the tips of her fingers against the glass of the prison.
“I know a lot of things Amanda, and I’m willing to help you as a matter of fact. After all I do owe you for saving me don’t I?” Her laugh was like the sound of a rusted bed spring.
Amanda stepped back from the glass. She wanted to keep a safe distance, even though she knew the containment jar would hold her.
“Are you a believer in fate Amanda? That the universe has some divine plain for all of us inhabiting it? The reason I ask this is because you look like a spiritual sort of person. Also I know for a fact that we both suffered the same fate of being buried alive by the same exact person who was the cause of it happening. Now I don’t think that’s just coincidence is it?”
“How do you know about…her” The very fact of saying the persons name brought the nightmares flooding into her mind.
“I can see the hate in your eyes Amanda. I can also see the horrible nightmares that keep you up at night that are all her fault to begin with is it not? I can help you get revenge Amanda. As a token of my gratitude I will loan you all of my knowledge to aid you. I can live with the pain Amanda; however I think you deserve to see her suffer by your hands and just yours alone. Besides I’m too weak to leave this containment chamber. And I don’t expect you to even release me, were not even of the same species. You see you’re a human and I was once a god queen of Atlantis and my company thinks I’m dead.”
“I don’t trust you, not entirely. However you are going to tell me everything I need to know when I need it. After all I’m holding all the cards at the moment. Understand?”
“Of course.” Natla noticed the stone around Amanda’s neck.
“ah, I see you’ve obtained the wraith stone? I’m sure you’ve experienced its side effects, it can be a little…possessive if used too much.
“I’ve noticed, but dose it look like a really give a damn. I have to go and think about this. Its not everyday I have a god locked up in a cage you know.”
Amanda headed toward the door and the lights in the lab started to shutoff row by row behind her. Natla’s cage still illuminated and monitors still up and running.
“Before you go I may know something that will intrigue you, just another little something for you to think about.”
“What?” Amanda stopped at the door and halfway turned her head to listen.
Natla leaned her back up against the glass, looking at her nails and smiling.
“I may know of a place that Lara could only dream of going, a place even she thinks is a myth. But I know how to get there, and where to find the parts of the key.”
“What place are you talking about?”
“Have you ever heard of the legendary realm of Avalon?”
Well here is my entry. I apologize for it being long. Hope you all enjoy! :D
well it being long makes me only look forward more to reading it at my day of voting. so for me it is no problem at all.
the only real problem could be the voting deadline like i mentioned before.
hey,
well, I will be gone the week of the 16th for my sister's wedding,
but I am coming back the following Monday, so that shouldn't be
an issue.:D
Well, here's my entry. I couldn't get my head around Amanda, so I took to Janice instead. :D
Bonheur
Janice hates challengers.
She hates challengers that came in the broad-shouldered, annoying sorts, the type that would approach you and announce that they have the Lord's right to pelt you with the sort of questions you'd never answer to even with a barrel jabbing at your temples. Not that Janice was this loyal and staunch, but she knew people that would hate this type of mindset just so. Just how brave did Luck feel that night? To acquaint her with the worst of people? A spoiled, harsh thing stubborn for answers and not taken to go-away hints?
She insulted her too.
But it was an honest insult, truth be told, said midway through their smart backtalk, where the woman commented on how she pitied Janice's involvement in the ''petty craft''. Janice smiled widely, repeated the phrase but exchanged 'petty' with 'pretty'. The woman frowned, they both stared at each other and processed thoughts; questions and jeans, then opposite, stubby platform heels and a waxy lipstick smirk. Janice knew that the woman didn't belong here. She didn't belong here, here with sugar and spite and everything vice. Assortments of said events just so led her these filthy back streets and her cutthroat tongue didn't know better. Janice was reminded of her nineteen-year old self.
Nineteen-year old Janice would have cried at the sight of her future environment. Nineteen-year old Janice would have wanted the bins she now stood by on basis to hold the boxes and other removals of her flashy, proud house, provided by her flashy, proud husband. She wouldn't have wanted this, she wouldn't have accepted this. She would have scrambled to vague solution and drowned herself nose-deep in exam papers, books and all that now laughed at her.
But then the twenty-nine-year old awareness comes, slow and sifting through a romantic and rainy night;
Sometimes you just do what you have to do.
Janice was never one for soppy affirmations. But this was not an affirmation, just a snappy life tip of sorts. Sometimes it helped her, sometimes it didn't. Sometimes it was such a good tip she'd scribble it down on bins and wall posters for the next sod to read, to perhaps even pass on. Once, the marker she used didn't provide a good enough message so she used the last of a discarded aerosol's remains instead, the compressed air struggled out the nine words across a voiceless wall. Janice remembered stepping back proudly and shouting aloud that no artist could aim for such beauty. She loved feeling expectant, unimpressed and knowing. She loved the wisdom she felt when one fellow woman confided to her that she hated the insults and judgement she had to put up with, and Janice replied; ''Laugh. Just laugh.''
She would have not given out advice if she knew she would not follow it. Janice liked laughing. She liked laughing at the thought of life. Life, Paris, the frown on the braided woman's face - such a British frown. She liked laughing softly at the thought of when things just went a bit too silly, all she had to do was tut and gather poise, have her cigarette in character, and laugh.
''Pull off a little theatre,'' she mumbled to herself, raising her head to smile at the passerby that stared at her in disgust. ''People like stage acts. Stage acts entertain.''
Fin! :D
Lawrence Croft
09-07-10, 01:42
Alliance
... The stone started bleeding shadows like ink underwater, like a cloud of blood from a shark bite...
Wow! Nicely done.
I particularly like the extended relationship between Rutland and Amanda. (Hot!) Amanda is portrayed as more of a believable human character with her own frailties and weaknesses.
I also like to see Amanda using the entity stone and going to town on the doppelcats.
Awesome!
Nice metaphors too. "Bleeding shadows like ink underwater".
A good solid piece of writing and an excellent look into a back story we didn’t get to see in Underworld.
Top job!
This is totally being written in this window. No editing, nothing, just randomness.
But Why is the Rum Gone?
"Hey Winston, you doing anything for Lara's birthday?" Zip barely glanced up from his laptop as the butler dusted the entrance to Lara's treasure room. They had all settled nicely into Lara's second manor over the last few months, and now with Lara's birthday approaching, Zip wanted to do something fun. Having your birthday in your backup mansion had to be tough.
"Yes, I was planning on taking her out for Indian food while you prepare a cake for her."
"A cake?"
The butler smiled. "Indeed. Earlier Lara made it very clear to me that the next time I spoke with you I was to subtly but strongly hint that she wants your dark chocolate torte for her birthday. She mentioned wanting the raspberry preserves and whipped cream between the layers. Consider yourself subtly hinted."
"Yeah, okay. I can make that cake for her. Don't tell her I said that, though, in case something comes up and I can't. I should never have introduced her to Portal." Zip took a sip of juice and tapped his keyboard idly, not actually pressing any keys. "Maybe we should have another little party for her."
"Just so long as it's not like last year," Winston warned. "That poor sofa was never the same, and I don't want to be called Elizabeth again all night."
"Come on, Winston! That was the best time I've had in years." Zip grinned at the memory. "I almost had a heart attack from laughing too hard. She kept saying her name was Captain Jack Sparrow and talking to the statues like they were fellow pirates."
"Yes, and you were Will Turner, her 'pretty-boy pirate whore-man'."
"Well, she did say Jack and Will were the only two with any real chemistry." Zip shrugged. "Hey, I was drinking too, remember? A hot girl wants to tie me up and whip me while she wears a pirate hat, I'm not gonna say no, especially if I've been drinking."
"No more high-alcohol-content rum!" Winston said, then turned to walk off. "Since Lara insists on drinking it like regular rum, it would be folly to import more of it from the Caribbean. And I don't want to be Elizabeth again."
Zip was actually thinking the high-alcohol-content rum sounded like a great idea. He went online to the vendor and ordered a case with rush shipping to England. Now, if only he had someone else to be Lara's 'pretty' whipping boy so he could be Elizabeth and watch the whole thing...
"Hey, Winston, do you know Amanda's number?"
Fin
Wow! Nicely done.
I particularly like the extended relationship between Rutland and Amanda. (Hot!) Amanda is portrayed as more of a believable human character with her own frailties and weaknesses.
I also like to see Amanda using the entity stone and going to town on the doppelcats.
Awesome!
Nice metaphors too. "Bleeding shadows like ink underwater".
A good solid piece of writing and an excellent look into a back story we didn’t get to see in Underworld.
Top job!
Thank you so much! :hug:
aurora89 and Biddy both of yours were a fantastic read! :)
I know the rules are down to Ashnod, but generally, the voting is likely to last longer than a few days, right? I'm going away on the 15-17th, and I don't want to miss my chance to vote. :o
I know the rules are down to Ashnod, but generally, the voting is likely to last longer than a few days, right? I'm going away on the 15-17th, and I don't want to miss my chance to vote. :o
Yes, hopefully voting will be at least a few weeks, maybe a month... You're the 3rd or 4th person to be going on vacation during that time!
Ward Dragon
10-07-10, 02:52
I know the rules are down to Ashnod, but generally, the voting is likely to last longer than a few days, right? I'm going away on the 15-17th, and I don't want to miss my chance to vote. :o
Voting should last at least a week, although Ashnod can make it longer if she wants to :)
^That's what I was hoping for, phew. :)
Lawrence Croft
17-07-10, 02:28
Under the stairs in a small wooden box are my war medals. One is adorned with the face of a lion.
Wars are as wars go, this one was not very different from most.
A young man barely out of my teens, when duty called and my country summoned, I went with high hopes and grim expectations into service. Having no real family of my own I joined the infantry and was stationed in North Africa along with other young lads of my age. Wide eyed and eager, innocent of the evils which awaited us, we considered ourselves a special breed. World traveled, smart and deadly. A match to any man in any country, yet willing to share fortune and offer aid where needed, tolerant of strange customs, we shared a willingness to peel back the corners of the world, and see what lay beyond.
My first tour of duty saw little action and the boredom and tedium of daily routine wore heavy in a short while. I wrote constantly to my only sister I left behind. Our parents long since lost to the pandemic of 1918, each other was all that we had.
An infantryman has little to say regarding daily life in the field. Fear, death, cold, hunger, and more death. Sleep was something that briefly occurred for a few short moments in the absence of or indifference to everything mentioned above. Occasionally we were granted leave to visit the local village and spend all our wages on drinks and souvenirs.
Money was barely worth the weight it added to our gear, as any day could be our last. It was spent freely and without hesitation.
It was at the PX that I first met Amy. A nurse and fellow Brit assigned to the medical brigade, she had flowing dark hair and a pair of blue eyes that sparkled like starlight, deep and removed yet passionate and caring. A wounded man had but to gaze upon her once to reclaim all of life’s promise and aspirations.
It wasn’t long before our patience paid off and we were hurled into battle. An advancing column of Axis panzers broke through our lines and attacked our eastern flank. Our situation would have been dire had it not been for the last minute intervention by a squadron of RAF Spitfires. Angels on our shoulders had stopped the advancement before reaching our command center. While attempting to retrieve a wounded comrade I was stuck in the shoulder by a 9 millimeter bullet.
http://img408.imageshack.us/img408/7605/ukwarphoto.jpg
When I awoke in hospital I was tended over by Amy. Her blue eyes and angelic smile reassured me that my time was not up. As long as her gentle touch caressed my brow, the devil himself could not do away with me.
I was safe, however many of my comrades had not survived. It grieved me so that I should survive while so many bright young boys should be shown an early grave.
What bitter end awaited me, and what hand signs my note to be tardy?
As my wounds healed Amy would come to my bedside and read to me, or sometimes we would just talk about home and all the places we loved most, or the things we used to do, and the people we had known. It all seemed so distant now. Home, with the world turned upside down, seemed like a legend almost. A place that even if we could get back to it, just wouldn’t seem the same.
In time my strength regained and Amy and I would go for walks down the lane or sometimes to a nearby brook where we would sit under a tree and enjoy a meager picnic. Stale bread, or dried cheese or sometimes a cup of home made wine.
When Amy was nearby, even K-rations seemed like a banquette.
Then a time came and our orders arrived. We were told to advance and the field hospital was to be packed up and moved along.
As wars go, as in all wars.
It’s never wise to become too attached to new friends. You will only lose them the following day.
On the eve of my departure, Amy and I strolled along our familiar lane and ended up under our tree by the brook. She took my hand and kissed me gently. I told her I loved her and she began to cry. That was the last time I saw my beloved Amy and I have never loved another woman since.
As wars go, wars go on.
Victory came, but victory comes at a price. With six years of my life behind me I was now a battered and hardened man. Europe was gone and a new Europe emerged. I returned to England to complete my studies and found employment as assistant to a government attaché and ambassador to the continent.
Further duties and dedication resulted in a permanent position within the ranks of a noble house as I eventually became a trusted advisor and confidant to a Sir Richard Croft.
I served him well, abroad, and upon retirement was invited to stay on as head of his household at Croft manor in the London country side.
It was only then that I was introduce to the lady of the house, Mrs. Amelia Croft.
Upon first glance our eyes met and immediately I realized, it was my Amy.
After all these years, and all these miles, she stood before me with a look of astonishment on her face. A beat of time lapsed between us. Richard cleared his throat.
I bowed ever so formally and declared, “Lady Croft, I am at your service” and not another word was said.
I assume poor Richard never had any idea of my true identity as that pitiful battered young infantryman in North Africa. I am not sure of the extent my Amy informed him of her duties during the war. If he suspected a thing, he never mentioned it or showed the slightest hint of suspicion. All I know is I loved her once, and have never loved again.
One night Mrs. Croft came to me in the garage and addressed me as Private Smith.
I called her Amy, but I kept my distance, reluctant to look into those eternal blue eyes.
She placed a hand on my shoulder and told me how she missed that wounded young soldier, and that she had thought about him every day. But that was another time and another place. A time and place that would always hold a special reservation in her heart.
With that I answered “Yes my lady” and that was the end of it.
No mention of these events has ever been shared until now.
I am old, and weak, and the wounds I sustained in my youth have since caught up with me. I am dying my dear Lara, but there is something you should know, for it was exactly nine months after that last night under our tree by the brook, that you were born.
Your father is a good man and a loving parent. Your mother kind and wise. But there is another side to you my dear.
A strength garnered from toil over common land, the unquestioned answer of a call to arms. Fierceness in the face of certain death, and an unselfish willingness to relinquish that which we love most.
These are the gifts I bequeath to you my dear, for you are my daughter, and as I have watched you grow from a small child to a fine young woman, I have loved you more dearly than any man could endure, but have never been able to express it until now.
I am so proud of you and what you have become. My only regret is that I could not have been there for you from the first instant you were brought into this world. I have had to watch you from a distance, and if that is the most severe of my reprimands, I accept it gratefully.
Before I go, I have one last gift for you. Under the stairs in a small wooden box are my war medals. One is adorned with the face of a lion. Wise in its silence and patience. Fierce in battle yet gentle and compassionate among its pride.
They say there are no lions in the Scottish highlands, because those lions are us.
--Winston Smith. 1913-1996
http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/1359/warmedal.gif
Shouldn't we have a voting thread by now? Where's Ashnod?
Ugh, measly chance of being able to vote now since I've got a chaotic house-moving schedule going on this week, connection lines will probably be cut off. :(
Hopefully voting starts soon...since i dont know how much ill be able to be on this week (busy)
hey all,
I'm back from Chicago and ready to vote. hope folks can spare
a vote or two for me.:p;) good luck to everyone.
Ward Dragon
20-07-10, 07:55
Ashnod asked me to post the voting thread so it's up now :)
http://www.tombraiderforums.com/showthread.php?p=4759237
vBulletin® v3.8.7, Copyright ©2000-2013, vBulletin Solutions, Inc.