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Okay, I've decided to write up a story based on some rps i did, and a few of my own ideas. Please wait, for it takes me a while to type and to actually think up more of the story. The first chapter is up. Enjoy!
Edited by Mockingjay on 7/23/2011 6:02 PM PDT
Ack, vespene oil dripping in my face again...good thing I actually wore my goggles this time. I'm sitting under a hovercar, working on the inside of an engine. Not the cleanest place to be this early in the morning, but hey, its better than anywhere else I can think of.
An intercom beeps in by the garage door. I sigh. Its probably not good.
I put my tools down, a few of the nanobots I built take them and carry them back to their places on the tool rack. As I approach the intercom panel, I can already hear someone speaking into it.
"WTF JAY? ARE YOU IN THERE?" A loud, angry voice sound from the side speaker. I press a button on the front of the panel and speak into it. "Yes, I'm working on the hovercar." Silence. I can hear rustling and beeping noises. Then the voice speaks again. "Whatever, idc, I just need to make sure you are here, where you belong." The intercom beeps. Its done talking.
I sigh. That was my stepdad. Ever since my dad left me and my mom at the age of eight, my life has been a dictatorship. I am not allowed to set foot out of the propertyline of the house. I can't even try, cause my smart-!@# stepdad put in a sensor system called AWE around the farm, so even if a a stray fly comes in, my stepdad would know about it. Its sucks, being twenty year old girl and stranded at your own home.
My ma dosen't say much to this. She thinks I am a complete freak, with all my engineering and crap. She simply dosen't care.
Yeah, I suppose I could leave, but of course my stepdad has pointed out I have nowhere to go. I've been determinig whether or not to risk it and leave here since I was eighteen. I'm still here...but only for the time being.
Just then, my little friend Qwerty flies up to me, then sits on my head. Qwerty is my pet, I guess you could say. I made him too. I built him based of a blueprint of a Raven. He's not very big, but he is able to lift things about as heavy as me and help me out around the garage. My dad helped me build him.
I decided to work more on my hovercar. I've been working on this since i was able to hold and operate a molecular blowtorch. If I have any hope of getting out of here and getting somewhere, its this.
I guess that's why my dad left this here for me, I thought as I walked back to the car. He wanted to give me a chance, a chance to escape. It was his favorite of all his projects, but he never finished it. Like me, he loved to engineer things. I guess that's where i get my passion from.
I then go sit next to my car, and close my eyes. A tool flies from the toolrack into my hand. Oh yeah, I'm psionic.
Edited by Mockingjay on 7/24/2011 9:58 AM PDT
While working on my hovercar, I just couldn't help but daydream about how things used to be when my real dad was around. My father was a special ops Ghost operative, hence me being psionic. He would help me control my powers so I wouldn't get out of control. This helped a lot at school, cause I was the one they picked on. All the anger and sadness fueled my power to its max, making it harder and harder to control. I sometimes got close to cracking and almsot made someone fly across the room into the wall.
He told me I was special, and someday I would make a world of difference. He told me stories of the missions he'd go on, but not all of them were assasination missions. Some were simple, like going to save colonists in the outer ring of the sector. My dad helped people, and he loved it.
Suddenly, I heard a weird wirring sound outside. Slowly, I crawled out from under the car, leaving my tools behind and grabbing my lightblue psi-blade knife (It was a present from my father before he left) and cautiosly walk to the door. When I reach it, I hear a loud crash.
This cannot be good....
I quickly stalk out the door and head towards the woods, where the crash sounded. I smoke is filtering through the trees, and i can hear weird machine-like noises. Soon, I find a large crater of dirt. In the middle, is a terran drop pod.
I stay at the treeline, watching the droppod. In moments the droppod makes a hissing noise and opens. I peer out from behind the tree to see what it is...
A man crawls out, in a Ghost operative uniform, with a large rifle strapped to his back. He seems wounded, for he can barley stand. He collapses a few feet from the droppod, a small puddle of blood coming out from a large cut on his back.
What the hell am i going to do...
Edited by Mockingjay on 7/24/2011 9:57 AM PDT
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