Darkwing: Continuum - Short Stories

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Darkwing: Continuum - Short Stories

Post by Darkwing on Wed Jun 15, 2011 1:59 am

The following are several short stories that pertain to the Darkwing: Continuum RP.


A Journey's Beginning
The tall form of Simon Rivers hovered in the brightly lit doorway, his shadow long and merging with the dark room. He simply stood there, allowing his presence to be absorbed into whoever was in the room. Finally taking a step in, there was the sound of a slight shuffle. Holding out his arm, a disruptor pistol could be seen, silhouetted in Rivers’ shadow.

“I know you’re in here,” Rivers whispered, just loud enough to be heard by the other in the lonely room. “You can’t hide from me forever,” he taunted. There was momentary silence, before the response of shuffling feet as somebody tried to scramble and run. With acute aim, Rivers’ arm swung about and a bright green energy blast discharged from the nuzzle of the weapon. The body collapsed as Rivers had hit his mark. Pulling out a flashlight, Rivers walked further into the room, finally coming to stop over the crumpled body on the floor.

Kneeling down, Rivers turned the body over. He was still breathing, albeit shallowly, as death was at his door. The man was a frail looking sort with scraggly hair and sweat beaded around his eyes. His face was gaunt and ghostly, fitting for the end he was about to meet. Despite all of this, Rivers looked down on the man with a sort of sadness.

“I warned you not to run,” Rivers said solemnly, “but I really need what we agreed upon!”
The man gasped some, trembling, trying to hold on a moment longer to the life that once was his. Opening his mouth, he tried to speak, but all that he could muster was a gurgling sound as fluid began to enter his lungs. Changing tactics, the man slowly, weakly, reached into his pocket. Fumbling in it for a moment, his shaking hand finally retreated, a piece of parchment like material firmly clutched in his fist. Holding it out, he offered it to Rivers. Reaching out with his own hand, Rivers wrapped his fingers around the coarse material, taking it from the dying man.

“Be careful,” the man finally gasped out as his hand hit the ground and his eyes rolled back into his head. Kneeling there for a moment longer, as if to pay respect to the dead man, Rivers waited. Finally deciding it was time to continue, Rivers stood, looking down at the corpse at his feet before turning on his heal and exiting the room.

Entering into the light, Rivers looked about the bustling crowd on the space station. So many people, yet it would take a shockingly long time for them to discover the dead body in the dark maintenance closet. Hunching his shoulders, Rivers began to walk, disappearing into the crowd. As he walked, he held open his hand, revealing the piece of ancient parchment that he had reclaimed off of his now dead contact. The universe had changed, that much was for certain, but the extent of that change wasn’t over yet. He had a responsibility, to himself, to the people and he couldn’t let anything get in the way.

Finally arriving at his destination, Rivers flashed a small piece of ID to the guard standing watch over the docking bay. Having been let through, Rivers headed for a small shuttle craft. The craft was dull and grey, a standard shuttle a civilian might use, something that wouldn’t attract attention. As Rivers entered the shuttle however, he couldn’t shake that strange tingling sensation in the back of his neck, that one you have when somebody was watching you.

The shuttle lifted off, leaving the station behind. Setting the controls to automatic, the small craft jumped to warp speed, heading for its next destination. Finally able to relax a little, Rivers sat back in his chair, now able to take a good look at his prize. The parchment was torn, obviously a piece to a larger item. On it were markings, drawings more like, in a sort of ink based form. Holding it up to the light, Rivers could make out faint writing, location names perhaps.

Spinning around in his chair, Rivers faced a table with the other pieces of parchment lying together. This was the last piece, the key. Gently placing his new piece in the center he looked at it. It was a simple map of a village, pre-industrial by the looks of it. Sitting back, he looked at it, unsure. This was it? Just a map of a village. The names were meaningless. It was simply as it looked, just an old map of an old village. No clues, no hints, nothing even resembling what he was looking for.

Turning around, Rivers looked into the deep abyss of space, the stars streaking by. All that he had gone through, the time, the lives. All for an antiquated and completely irrelevant map. His mind began to drift, reflecting on what had happened over the past year. So much had changed. Turning back around once more to face the map, Rivers couldn’t help but feel as if he was missing something, this couldn’t be all there was, something had to be hidden in this map. Staring at it, his mind began to drift some more and then he saw it. Standing up over the map, he walked around the table, blurring his vision a little. So simple and always there. Rivers chuckled lightly to himself.

The time was at hand. Sitting back down in his chair, he tapped in some new coordinates, setting the ship on a new direction. A new direction to change everything.

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Re: Darkwing: Continuum - Short Stories

Post by Darkwing on Wed Jun 15, 2011 2:00 am

A Glimmer of Life
They had taken her home. They had taken her family. They had taken everything and what they hadn’t, they had burned. And it burned, burning in her heart, in her soul. They had taken her life, everything that had been dear to her, everything that was and ever would be important. It was all gone and when they left, all that remained was the smoke, covering the sky. Dismal and grey, it all looked the same now, no hope, no light, no life.

She simply sat there, not really caring at the moment. She just sat there and watched, the emptiness, the destruction and all because of her. She didn’t know how long she had sat there when she had finally seen it, waving gently in the breeze. Perking up a bit, curious and intrigued, she finally decided to get up and see what it was. The smoke wafting around her, she made her way gracefully and timidly through the destruction. It didn’t belong there, yet, she was glad. It gave her purpose.

Kneeling down, she inspected it further. It was as it appeared. A plant. A simple, green plant, minding it’s own business in the middle of what was formerly a concrete road. Despite all of the destruction, the bombings, the noise, this single plant had managed to survive. Hesitant, she wasn’t sure if she should dig it up and keep it, or let it be. It seemed so innocent, yet it was so intoxicating, overwhelming. Deciding to let it be, she sat down, making herself comfortable, simply watching it sway in the breeze. For some strange reason, it gave her a glimmer of hope, a purpose, a life!

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Re: Darkwing: Continuum - Short Stories

Post by Darkwing on Wed Jun 15, 2011 2:00 am

Calling of Destiny
When Simon Rivers had first heard about the legend, he had only been a child. Taught to him by his caretaker, the legend had been that of a bed time story. It wasn’t uncommon for people to teach the children of the Continuum the legend, however it was uncommon for them to believe in it. From the moment Simon had heard the words whispered to him, something inside of him told him it was real.

As he had grown older however, the words faded away, forgotten as many a story are when one gets older. Yet when he had looked into the soul of the killer, he could see it, the memory, once forgotten, now remembered. And it stuck. Pursued his thoughts, haunted his dreams until one day, he woke up.

Rivers had found his way to the distant planet of Karelia in search of a ship. Having stowed away or enlisted on the crews of various other ships, Rivers had managed to travel from one end of the quadrant, to the other. As the people of different races milled about, bumping into his shoulders, Rivers couldn’t help but notice the automaton like nature of the crowd. After all he had been through, all that had been sacrificed, this was what he had fought for. This is what he had won. The mindless meanderings of the masses, free to exist, but not choosing to.

Shaking his head, Rivers joined the crowd, shuffling about, searching for purpose but never really looking. That’s when his eye caught it. A reflection in a piece of glass covering some form of advertisement. Breaking away from the crowd, he slowly, as if unsure, walked towards the glass, inspecting the reflection. His heart began to race as he saw his destiny in the glass.

Spinning around, he could see it in the distance. Hurriedly, he pushed his way through the crowd, annoying a few people in the process. Finally making it through the mass, he came upon the pedestal. It was a botanical display of sorts, most likely selling different plants from across the quadrant. Stepping up, Rivers inspected the plant at the very top. It was simple, green with no other colours to accent it or define it. But it was unmistakable. It was short with a single stalk with one leaf sprouted from it. It looked very much like a blade of grass had grown a leaf that was pointing out of its side. Intrigued by its solitude and the fact that it seemed to stand out from the others, Rivers couldn’t help but take his gaze off of it. How could nobody else notice such a thing?

“That is one special leaf,” a croaky old voice pipe up, startling Rivers a little. Rivers looked around to see where the voice had come from. Out of the shadows sat a little man. He was weak looking and very old. His face was cracked with wrinkles and he only had a little bit of hair covering his scalp. With a cane in his hand, he pointed at the plant. “That leaf, it’s been through a lot!” he said.

Rivers looked at the man, curious. “What do you know of it?” Simon asked.
“It’s been around for a long time,” the man started to chuckle, slowly getting up and hobbling over to the plant, his weight relying completely on his cane. “It’s older then me!”

“Why doesn’t anyone else notice it?” Rivers asked the man, glancing over his shoulder at the unaware crowd shuffling by.

“Because it hasn’t called out to them,” the man said, wearily. Rivers looked back at the old man, raising an eyebrow. “It’s been waiting for you,” the main said, replying to Simon’s silent query.

Rivers then noticed out the corner of his eye, a ship. Looking at it in the distance, it was small, beat up, but it looked reliable. Rivers looked back, but the man was gone. Laughing softly to himself, Rivers stepped down, heading for the ship.

He had failed to notice how the leaf was pointing at the ship the whole time.

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