Chapter 1 - In Which School Nears its End
Submitted April 2, 2007 Updated September 13, 2007 Status Incomplete | Corny as it sounds: five or six characters in a band, living in an incredibly isolated place, and they all have elemental swords. Then one of them gets orphaned, and sent to the mainland--but the majority of the country is taken over by demons!
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Miscellaneous » Writing » Action/Adventure |
Chapter 1 - In Which School Nears its End
Chapter 1 - In Which School Nears its End
Yeah, that took a while. My parents dragged me down to Florida for Spring Break and I couldn't do anything. And I'm going to be going somewhere else today, so don't expect much more up anytime soon. My appologies.
Katrina Starr and family belong(s) to Werecat13
All other characters are mine, with my main character being Teu Zopponde, if you can't tell from the last name.
Most last names generated here:
http://www.kleimo.com/random/name.cfm
Most demonic names generated somewhere on this site:
http://www.seventhsanctum.com/
Some names chosen from a list somewhere here:
http://www.behindthename.com/
Admittedly, Krystal is probably something like InuYasha's long-lost-twin-sister-or-maybe-just-him-in-an-alternate-reality kind of relation. You have no permission to flame me for it. I was really into InuYasha at that point in time, and thus the show greatly influenced the story. Live with it or go away.
Italics are thoughts and heavy emphasis(es); things between *'s are notes that aren't neccessarily directly related to the story, usually about format; I used [these] instead of (these) because I'm wierd that way; in sets of three indicate breaks.
Enjoy or go away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1-
Yay, story![/i]
“Now, we have finished our review for the end-of-year exams,” the teacher said. “Your test will be tomorrow in computer lab 66, and you will be held there for all 6 periods while everyone finishes. You will have a break at the third period for lunch, then do the essay part. Any questions?”
Blake Garrington, his green eyes unusually awake, raised his hand.
“Yes, Blake?” the teacher asked, hoping he wasn’t asking for a repeat of what she just said.
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
The teacher sighed. “Can’t you wait for the—”
The bell rang. Blake stood, stretched, picked up his ripped-up binder, and left to head home. Halfway down the hallway, he saw a girl with black hair swept across her forehead stroll up to him, apparently deep in thought. He recognized her immediately as Teu Zopponde, his girlfriend.
“Yo Zap,” Blake greeted, calling her by her nickname.
“Blake, we need to talk.”
“Sorry, my dad wants me home in ten minutes. You can come with me.”
“Huh? Oh…no, it’s okay, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” She turned around and left.
Blake thought, What’s her problem? Does she need to study for the exams? …Wait, then I won’t see her tomorrow! Crap! “Teu! Wait!” But she’d already left. He swore under his breath and continued his walk back home with a guilty slouch.
That day was June 5th, 1066 years after the conquering, a Thursday, just before the big Exam Day. To celebrate the end of cramming, tests, and generally grades, Blake was throwing a party in his basement, with the best band in all of Sector A1 [which isn’t really hard, but this was still a really good band], the Band of Elements, in which Blake played the drums. Tonight there was going to be a rehearsal, which was probably why his dad needed him home soon.
Blake reached the end of the pavement, checked to see that his combat boots were tied, and stepped into the “desert wasteland” that made Sector A1 famous [sort of] to begin his tiresome walk home.
After three minutes of walking, he saw the oasis that gave A1A1 about half of its scarce trees. He saw Violet Ameling, violinist for his band, glance over her shoulder from the edge of the small forest. Her ankle-length red hair was waving in the wind when she saw him and waved, face smiling, though her green eyes were too distant to even really notice him.
Blake returned the wave and continued walking, thinking about Violet. She usually looked fairly happy, or at least content, at school, but she seemed to be an orphan; however much she denied it, she doesn’t seem to have any parents. Anyone who asked was brought to that oasis, where she wandered for a while, ignoring the other person until they took their leave or she left the forest and remembered that they were with her.
Another three or so minutes later, he came to a waist-high stonewall with a dusty mailbox, the red flag still up from a week or so ago, next to the metal gate which was probably painted black, but Blake wouldn’t be one to know what kind of metal it was even if it was its natural color.
One minute later, Blake came up the steps to the small porch in front of his house, stepped up to the door, pulled out his key, and used it to unlock the door. He grabbed the handle, twisted it, began walking forward, and—SMACK! His head collided with the stationary door. Blake realized that his father left the door open—not a good idea here. He unlocked the door and walked in, successfully this time.
The carpet of the house was filthy with various trash items, mostly junk food wrappers and soda cans. Nobody really did any cleaning there. Blake’s dad, who was sitting on the sofa reading a two-week-old newspaper, turned around when he came in.
“Blake,” he said, folding the newspaper on his lap, “I have an important question for you.”
“What is it?”
“Well, your girlfriend, Teu…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Apparently, her mother passed away, and she wanted Teu to move in with her aunt in the Capital Sector.”
So that’s what she wanted to say, Blake thought.
“She doesn’t want to go alone, and her aunt said that she can bring a friend with her. Do you want to go?”
Blake paused. He stood there stationary for almost a full minute, thinking, before his father interrupted, seeming to read his thoughts.
“Blake, this is a serious decision. You can sleep on it. In fact, they don’t get out of school until much later there, so you’ll have to finish school here. You have a week until school lets out.”
“Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell on the two, ended by the doorbell ringing.
“Hey,” Blake said, going to answer the door, “they’re early.”
It rang again. Must be Krystal, Blake thought, Impatient as always.
And sure enough, it was Krystal Winterbottom, her bass guitar strapped to her back and her long white hair up in a ponytail, making her cat ears particularly obvious. Her short sword hung on her utility-style belt, sheathed. Her mismatched eyes, one red and one green, sparked with impatience at the time spent to answer the door.
“What took you?” she demanded, as Blake realized that Violet was with her, violin case in hand. “We’ve been waiting for a full ten seconds!”
“Yeah, well, I can wait for twenty seconds without even ringing the bell twice,” Blake shot back.
“Haylay,” Violet said randomly, naming the band’s singer.
“What about her?” Krystal asked.
“I’m here, that’s what,” a cheerful voice answered from behind her.
“DAA--!!!! Don’t do that!!!!!” Krystal exclaimed, turning to face Haylay.
“Why not?” Haylay asked, sky blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Because—” Krystal was cut off.
“Katrina,” Violet said.
Krystal looked and saw Katrina Starr, electric guitar strapped to her back, walking up the path between the gate and the house.
“Am I late?” she asked, somewhat breathless.
“No, we haven’t even come in yet,” Blake replied, leading the rest of the band into the basement.
Four hours later, the band emerged from the basement, satisfied with their ability to play their songs. Blake offered to serve supper, but only Violet and Krystal could stay. Haylay’s parents wanted her home soon and Katrina had to baby-sit her own twin brothers. They both left their equipment at Blake’s house.
“So,” Blake said, “what do you want to eat?”
“How about ramen?” Krystal suggested.
“Do we even have a choice?” Violet asked without expecting an answer.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve had anything but ramen here…” Krystal remarked.
“I haven’t either,” Violet added.
“Okay, so we only have ramen,” Blake confessed. “So what? ramen’s good!”
“Have you ever heard of a food pyramid?” Violet asked.
“Can we just have some ramen?”
“Fine, but next time I come here, I’m bringing a box of pasta…”
“Isn’t that basically ramen?
“Maybe, but it’s still healthier and just as easy to prepare.”
“You do that. Good luck preparing it.”
“If you have a pot and a stove, I’m good.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll take your sword and start a fire with it.”
“What about the pot?”
“Your skull would probably do the trick if it’s not too thick.”
“Violet, we can’t do that. The band needs a drummer,” Krystal interjected.
“We’ll find a new one.”
“Look, can I make the ramen now?” Blake asked.
“Fine. Go and make your stupid ramen.”
“It’s not stupid!”
Krystal sighed and opened the closest cabinet, which just so happened to be the one where the ramen was kept.
“Yes it is! My diet is better than yours!” Violet shot back, uncharacteristically shouting.
Krystal opened three packages of ramen and filled them with water from the sink.
“What’s so remarkable about that?” Blake yelled.
Krystal opened the microwave and put the ramen in, trying to figure out how to set the microwave for three minutes on high.
“I live in the forest!” Violet screamed, her face turning red. “All of my food comes from the forest!”
Krystal leaned on the counter next to the microwave, whistling, waiting for it to finish with its three minutes. She stopped to suggest, “Maybe our next rehearsal should be at Haylay’s house.”
“Yes, it should be! Maybe she knows that you can’t eat ramen for your whole life! Maybe she has multiple brain cells!”
“Maybe I do too, and you’re just too…too…too forest-raised to know it!” Blake shot back.
“Maybe you don’t because that ramen killed them all!”
“Ramen doesn’t do that!”
“How do you know?”
The microwave beeped to signal that its three minutes were over.
“Ramen’s done,” Krystal pointed out, looking through the drawers for forks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Katrina Starr and family belong(s) to Werecat13
All other characters are mine, with my main character being Teu Zopponde, if you can't tell from the last name.
Most last names generated here:
http://www.kleimo.com/random/name.cfm
Most demonic names generated somewhere on this site:
http://www.seventhsanctum.com/
Some names chosen from a list somewhere here:
http://www.behindthename.com/
Admittedly, Krystal is probably something like InuYasha's long-lost-twin-sister-or-maybe-just-him-in-an-alternate-reality kind of relation. You have no permission to flame me for it. I was really into InuYasha at that point in time, and thus the show greatly influenced the story. Live with it or go away.
Italics are thoughts and heavy emphasis(es); things between *'s are notes that aren't neccessarily directly related to the story, usually about format; I used [these] instead of (these) because I'm wierd that way; in sets of three indicate breaks.
Enjoy or go away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 1-
Yay, story![/i]
“Now, we have finished our review for the end-of-year exams,” the teacher said. “Your test will be tomorrow in computer lab 66, and you will be held there for all 6 periods while everyone finishes. You will have a break at the third period for lunch, then do the essay part. Any questions?”
Blake Garrington, his green eyes unusually awake, raised his hand.
“Yes, Blake?” the teacher asked, hoping he wasn’t asking for a repeat of what she just said.
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
The teacher sighed. “Can’t you wait for the—”
The bell rang. Blake stood, stretched, picked up his ripped-up binder, and left to head home. Halfway down the hallway, he saw a girl with black hair swept across her forehead stroll up to him, apparently deep in thought. He recognized her immediately as Teu Zopponde, his girlfriend.
“Yo Zap,” Blake greeted, calling her by her nickname.
“Blake, we need to talk.”
“Sorry, my dad wants me home in ten minutes. You can come with me.”
“Huh? Oh…no, it’s okay, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” She turned around and left.
Blake thought, What’s her problem? Does she need to study for the exams? …Wait, then I won’t see her tomorrow! Crap! “Teu! Wait!” But she’d already left. He swore under his breath and continued his walk back home with a guilty slouch.
That day was June 5th, 1066 years after the conquering, a Thursday, just before the big Exam Day. To celebrate the end of cramming, tests, and generally grades, Blake was throwing a party in his basement, with the best band in all of Sector A1 [which isn’t really hard, but this was still a really good band], the Band of Elements, in which Blake played the drums. Tonight there was going to be a rehearsal, which was probably why his dad needed him home soon.
Blake reached the end of the pavement, checked to see that his combat boots were tied, and stepped into the “desert wasteland” that made Sector A1 famous [sort of] to begin his tiresome walk home.
After three minutes of walking, he saw the oasis that gave A1A1 about half of its scarce trees. He saw Violet Ameling, violinist for his band, glance over her shoulder from the edge of the small forest. Her ankle-length red hair was waving in the wind when she saw him and waved, face smiling, though her green eyes were too distant to even really notice him.
Blake returned the wave and continued walking, thinking about Violet. She usually looked fairly happy, or at least content, at school, but she seemed to be an orphan; however much she denied it, she doesn’t seem to have any parents. Anyone who asked was brought to that oasis, where she wandered for a while, ignoring the other person until they took their leave or she left the forest and remembered that they were with her.
Another three or so minutes later, he came to a waist-high stonewall with a dusty mailbox, the red flag still up from a week or so ago, next to the metal gate which was probably painted black, but Blake wouldn’t be one to know what kind of metal it was even if it was its natural color.
One minute later, Blake came up the steps to the small porch in front of his house, stepped up to the door, pulled out his key, and used it to unlock the door. He grabbed the handle, twisted it, began walking forward, and—SMACK! His head collided with the stationary door. Blake realized that his father left the door open—not a good idea here. He unlocked the door and walked in, successfully this time.
The carpet of the house was filthy with various trash items, mostly junk food wrappers and soda cans. Nobody really did any cleaning there. Blake’s dad, who was sitting on the sofa reading a two-week-old newspaper, turned around when he came in.
“Blake,” he said, folding the newspaper on his lap, “I have an important question for you.”
“What is it?”
“Well, your girlfriend, Teu…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Apparently, her mother passed away, and she wanted Teu to move in with her aunt in the Capital Sector.”
So that’s what she wanted to say, Blake thought.
“She doesn’t want to go alone, and her aunt said that she can bring a friend with her. Do you want to go?”
Blake paused. He stood there stationary for almost a full minute, thinking, before his father interrupted, seeming to read his thoughts.
“Blake, this is a serious decision. You can sleep on it. In fact, they don’t get out of school until much later there, so you’ll have to finish school here. You have a week until school lets out.”
“Thanks.”
An awkward silence fell on the two, ended by the doorbell ringing.
“Hey,” Blake said, going to answer the door, “they’re early.”
It rang again. Must be Krystal, Blake thought, Impatient as always.
And sure enough, it was Krystal Winterbottom, her bass guitar strapped to her back and her long white hair up in a ponytail, making her cat ears particularly obvious. Her short sword hung on her utility-style belt, sheathed. Her mismatched eyes, one red and one green, sparked with impatience at the time spent to answer the door.
“What took you?” she demanded, as Blake realized that Violet was with her, violin case in hand. “We’ve been waiting for a full ten seconds!”
“Yeah, well, I can wait for twenty seconds without even ringing the bell twice,” Blake shot back.
“Haylay,” Violet said randomly, naming the band’s singer.
“What about her?” Krystal asked.
“I’m here, that’s what,” a cheerful voice answered from behind her.
“DAA--!!!! Don’t do that!!!!!” Krystal exclaimed, turning to face Haylay.
“Why not?” Haylay asked, sky blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Because—” Krystal was cut off.
“Katrina,” Violet said.
Krystal looked and saw Katrina Starr, electric guitar strapped to her back, walking up the path between the gate and the house.
“Am I late?” she asked, somewhat breathless.
“No, we haven’t even come in yet,” Blake replied, leading the rest of the band into the basement.
Four hours later, the band emerged from the basement, satisfied with their ability to play their songs. Blake offered to serve supper, but only Violet and Krystal could stay. Haylay’s parents wanted her home soon and Katrina had to baby-sit her own twin brothers. They both left their equipment at Blake’s house.
“So,” Blake said, “what do you want to eat?”
“How about ramen?” Krystal suggested.
“Do we even have a choice?” Violet asked without expecting an answer.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve had anything but ramen here…” Krystal remarked.
“I haven’t either,” Violet added.
“Okay, so we only have ramen,” Blake confessed. “So what? ramen’s good!”
“Have you ever heard of a food pyramid?” Violet asked.
“Can we just have some ramen?”
“Fine, but next time I come here, I’m bringing a box of pasta…”
“Isn’t that basically ramen?
“Maybe, but it’s still healthier and just as easy to prepare.”
“You do that. Good luck preparing it.”
“If you have a pot and a stove, I’m good.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll take your sword and start a fire with it.”
“What about the pot?”
“Your skull would probably do the trick if it’s not too thick.”
“Violet, we can’t do that. The band needs a drummer,” Krystal interjected.
“We’ll find a new one.”
“Look, can I make the ramen now?” Blake asked.
“Fine. Go and make your stupid ramen.”
“It’s not stupid!”
Krystal sighed and opened the closest cabinet, which just so happened to be the one where the ramen was kept.
“Yes it is! My diet is better than yours!” Violet shot back, uncharacteristically shouting.
Krystal opened three packages of ramen and filled them with water from the sink.
“What’s so remarkable about that?” Blake yelled.
Krystal opened the microwave and put the ramen in, trying to figure out how to set the microwave for three minutes on high.
“I live in the forest!” Violet screamed, her face turning red. “All of my food comes from the forest!”
Krystal leaned on the counter next to the microwave, whistling, waiting for it to finish with its three minutes. She stopped to suggest, “Maybe our next rehearsal should be at Haylay’s house.”
“Yes, it should be! Maybe she knows that you can’t eat ramen for your whole life! Maybe she has multiple brain cells!”
“Maybe I do too, and you’re just too…too…too forest-raised to know it!” Blake shot back.
“Maybe you don’t because that ramen killed them all!”
“Ramen doesn’t do that!”
“How do you know?”
The microwave beeped to signal that its three minutes were over.
“Ramen’s done,” Krystal pointed out, looking through the drawers for forks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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