Thursday, December 29, 2011

Charles & Freya Edgarory

Freya's fear had departed and she too sat cross legged sitting upon my left knee as I sat in there in the same manner as the demon and Freya. Her eyes were upon the devil before us, though it seemed that all her fears had left her.

'I really wish you wouldn't do that,' Freya started with half a smile upon her face, though she made every attempt to remain stern of complexion and word, 'You know we were stalked by a panther for the last two days, how was I suppose to know it was you. My nose is greatly hindered by the mist, which you know quite well to be true,' she finished with a huff and crossing her arms.

'I am truly sorry little one,' the devil started in a soft yet stern melodic voice which I could tell straight off to be male, but I could not guess the owner's age, 'Twas the panther that I was watching with such intensity, for it sat silently amongst the rocks behind your friend, just there beside that boulder,' it raised its red right hand to a large rock no more than ten feet just behind us. 'But the it and the worry of the great cat's association to good or ill is gone for now.' Sighing as he finished the white scars upon his body moved from tiny marks into characters and markings, which made the devil all the more handsome yet menacing.

Freya turned to address me, 'Charles this is an elf of the marsh tribes, he is called Edgarory by his kin, but I have been allowed his friendship and so am able to simply call him Edgar,' she finished with an assertive yet cute smile. With that she bounded down from my knee and off towards the fire, where the open hands of Edgarory were waiting for her.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Monday, December 26, 2011

Charles & Freya Red Devil

Freya stood there before me upon the stump end of the log staring out into the fog, her nose working hard sniffing the air in attempt to make out who the silent eyes before us belonged to.

'Its not the black panther,' Freya whispered ever so softly over her shoulder, both eyes upon the fog guardian shrouded in mist. 'It is something taller, I can make out the edges of several rocks, it is standing upright.'

After what seemed like several hours the bright yellow eyes hovering out in the fog blinked and where gone. A moment later they appeared again, this time no more than a few feet in front of Freya, she chirped and leapt backwards off the stump. In a blink and a flash a muscular red demon with long white hair was atop the stump in the exact spot Freya had fallen from. It was bent over, almost leaning into the fire, hair covering it's face, its right arm held it steady while the other was dangling down close to the fire, hand clenched in a soft fist.

Raising its left hand and stretching it out towards me, it opened palm up revealing Freya unsinged by the fire curled up, quivering with fear, but unharmed. I stood slowly and walked towards the stump, the red devil did not move an inch as I did. I gently picked Freya up out of his hand, as I noticed that his body was covered in thousands of tiny scars of the purest white.

I took a few steps back to my bedding and sat down, knowing nothing else to do. The devil adjusted himself to sit atop the stump cross legged with an almost mechanical precision and swiftness. As he did with one fluid movement both hands stole up all the hair about his face and shoulders and tied it back in a top knot. Its piercing eyes staring into mine, though I was mesmerized by the demon and the abundance of scars adorning its body. The demon was no larger than I was, though it seemed taller and very much more muscular, the scars told me stories of endless years of battle. Yet Freya's fear was abating... What Red Devil trap had we been lured into.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Monday, December 19, 2011

World's Over Journal XX The Dream

I had no idea that the dream Priscilla had was so vivid in her mind, when she spoke often I felt like she recalled them as distant memories, for she fought back fear as she mentioned certain details.

That afternoon over lunch, with Toki in the threshold, Priscilla began the tale which was her dream while in the depths of the dark sleep. She maintained that these were not her memories, that the view was so lucid and beyond herself that they must be formed in another living soul, a soul whose eyes she was trapped looking out from behind. Here is a brief recount of a great portion of what she recalled from memory.

Slowly my mind stirred back into the waking realm a dim gray twilight before my eyes, from a black slumber eternal where no memories existed, it was as if I were but newly born. My senses appeared to be dull and unaware of my predicament, they seemed almost numb, even my emotions were detached from my current surroundings, which my foggy eyes were starting to take in. I felt nothing, not fear from having woken from a slumber I knew not how long, nor did my stomach know hunger or my limbs know the pain of stiffness. Could it be that this gray kingdom, which was coming into focus around me, was beyond the lands of the living, was I in the solitude beyond death?

Just then, when my mind had begun to believe I was in the afterlife, something thin wriggled curving itself in frantic motions without pattern just above my right leg. As the fog lifted more from before my eyes, there I confirmed it to be a tale of sorts, covered in a coat of short and mangy black fur. I tried to tilt my head to glimpse the creature to which the tale belonged to, but my head simply slumped off to the side with a thud it hit my shoulder. Despite great effort in an attempt, I could not lift it.

For a moment I pondered upon how my neck had allowed so easily such an abnormal contortion as to allow my head to rest completely sideways upon my shoulder, though at least now I could see the cat. Yes, now in plain view was a sickly looking mangy black cat. The vile little creature seemed to be chewing on my leg. The gray lifted more from my eyes and I found that indeed it was, though I knew no pain from the nibbling of sharp teeth upon my right calf. I attempted to move my leg, as to shake off the tooth invader of my weary shell, but instead I blinked. With the effort as an earthquake did my eyes shake behind my their captive lids, until they finally opened.

Though now the cat had faded into a pulsing blue and green outline of that same creature. Where blood circulated near its skin was a murky orange, from its heart pulsed a deep purple out from which flowed veins of bright red. How had my vision changed as to allow me to see the radiation of heat, why did my eyes seem to hurt so, for that is the only word I can use to describe the flame which was ablaze within each socket, pain, these questions whirled in my mind. Amidst the fires of my eyes, I was answerless and could not help but think that I was not truly seeing the cat at all. The thin veil of gray passed over my eyes and grew thick until I knew no more.

When at lost last my mind swam back from the dark depths into consciousness I found that I had been stolen away into a far off place, or so it seemed. I was still sitting, but this time, I seemed to be in the center of a busy street in the middle of a vast city of silver steel and endless gray concrete in the violent heat of a humid summer. A multitude of towers sprawling up from the ground in every direction from where I sat, before me, behind me and on either side for as far as I could imagine to see.

Many iron wagons of various sizes and shape past by driven without a team of ox, horse or mule scurried by me as multi colored beetles on a quest for food. A multitude of people walking wove their way in and out amongst one another upon a sidewalk of sorts, for no wagons were upon it, save for persons riding upon metal bars with black wheels on either end from the most ragged looking young men and women with tall green or pink hair to what seemed a higher class, business men all prim and proper rolling about smoothly to check on their merchants. The warm breeze upon my face moved swiftly through as it funneled through the towering citadels, many with mirrors for walls, it was such an amazing feeling, it was my only feeling. In that moment I knew I was indeed alive.

Quite suddenly the veil rolled in once again, a plague of gray eclipsed my eyes. When finally the twilight rolled away, as a fog lifts mystically from a marsh, it seemed for the first time they opened of my own will. The grandeur of life’s abundance around me dissipated with my last vision. There before me was the cat, which was still licking and gnawing at the flesh off my leg, though I felt it not just there underneath the remains of the tattered rags which once had been my favorite pair of skinny jeans. At least I had recalled a memory, a feeling attached to a set of pants, was I alive or dead? Lifting my gaze, merely my eyes for my head I still could not move, from the cat to look slowly around. I was perched upon a plastic crate on a stone slab sidewalk, propped up against a dusty and ancient looking red brick building surrounded by large concrete towers. For how long I know not for all seemed as a dream.

I blinked and again was in the city teaming with life, people everywhere. Suddenly everyone stopped as if they had all at once become aware of some grave danger. They looked up, in quick secession, into the skies which had grown dark with low lying clouds, just above the skyline. The darkness above threatened an immense storm of tear drop sized rain and violently bright lightning amongst immense earthquakes of ever rolling thunder. Though no rain fell upon the vast number of men and women standing dumbfounded in the streets, nor upon the stopped vehicles, I once knew as cars, something else was falling down. The sky was thick with the falling of tiny yellow stars or possibly flowers, I could not tell, the size of snowflakes floating slowly downwards. Mingled here and there amongst the flakes there looked to be tiny fairy folk, swimming in the air with smiles upon minuscule handsome faces. As the white and yellow touched the skin of humanity they toppled over and did not move, whether death had fallen over them or they had been set in a state of deepest sleep I know not, for they did not wake when they fell with a crash to the concrete, nor did they stir when the cars and trucks, yes trucks that is correct word, began to collide in violent clashes of steel and flesh.

The settings stirred and changed all in an instant, once again I was sitting alone upon the blue crate on the street corner. The city was dark, though the sun had not yet sunk behind me; the buildings seemed to have aged a decades as many of them had begun to the slow process of decay around me. The sky was not as it had been in my last vision, for now there were dark clouds which were illuminated by flashes of blue and green hovering somewhere not a great distance in front of me below the skyline, there between two towers on opposite sides of the street. Most of the people were gone, how I cannot begin to fathom a guess; however several dozen of them though lay still and silent where they had toppled over. The skin of those closest to me seemed just as bright as the day they had fallen, though their clothes were much faded of hue and deteriorated, as if an age of the earth had passed. Despair stole into my heart in that moment, I felt and knew both at once that I seemed to be only half living in between dreaming and reality. Indeed if I was wholly alive what hope did I, a simple man counted amongst the few still living, have in such a city of darkness. My sight faded once more as all before me was stolen into gray.

What seemed like decades later my eyes rolled open to a most majestic sight, explosions of deep ocean greens and blues swam before me inside a cloud of thick gray smoke; The expanse of which was not high in the heavens nor near the skyline but was low lying, within the city itself. It was like watching the fierce beauty of an electrical storm, flashes of bright blue bolts flickered amongst the murky depths of blues and greens as it passed over the people lying about the streets, moving ever closer to me. Fear did not steal my as it passed over me, though I wanted to and that as a man I should have felt something at least. I knew then that even if I should like to, I could not force myself to feel alive. Once I had been so but now who knew now what I was, would I ever walk amongst the living again? The light in all its mystical poweress passed through me, I felt nothing at all, not the sorrows of pain nor the hope of life. Then I slept, as those around me, who aged not but did not live.

My ears rang with the sound of rumbling thunder, though when I opened my eyes not a cloud was in the sky. It was nearly dark, the sun or whatever was causing the radiant blue-white light was nearly sunk behind me, for the towers around me cast ominous shadows of obsidian. Then I noticed a small stone rolling out from the darkness between two towers nearby, when had come to a stop, so too did the resounding earthquake in my head. It had been kicked I swore it, for not of its own accord does a rock begin to roll, by what I swore was a man crouching just there, hiding and watching me.

A pair of catlike eyes flashed a glance of bright ochre flame from the shadows in my direction, as they did, I saw a mouth full of terrible fangs amidst a slender and pale beautiful face which remained half hidden beneath locks of jet black. Elongated ears jutted out from underneath the hair taller than the top of its head, this was no man. I felt the prey of a devilish hunter seeking a freshly taken meal, yet where horror should have been I was perplexed with wonder and intrigue. And then, all at once, the creature was gone as the dreamed stirred again... Would I wake this time into a world which I could feel and embrace with my own flesh, or was I destined to live in visions of solitude, more importantly, who am I? What is my name?

Priscilla let out a heavy sigh as she finished telling us of the dreamer whose eyes and mind she was held captive within. She had lived through much, for a girl whom in our old world would be no more than nine years old was much older inside, her soul was now ancient as the forest we lived in.

Whoever the unnamed being was, the soul was trapped within the shell unable to fade to death, becoming a ghost to wander once more. Would we, no, more imporantly could we ever find this being out there in the vast world in an ancient city.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Friday, December 16, 2011

Charles & Freya Silent Eyes

The moment my sleep state ended and my eyes opened I felt Freya stir and in a moment her tiny blue and green eyes peeped out from underneath my jacket where she had slept next to my collar bone. The stump which we had started the fire under was still hot, many embers still burnt red. I sat up and scooted my butt closer to the fire, once I was close enough I reached out my hands to warm them up, as I did Freya bounded down my arm and out onto the top of the stump to glaze out into the fog which still lay thick not more than twenty feet before us.

Freya had turned her back on the fog and started gnawing on a small piece of corn that I given her the night before, which she had kept in her pocket. Her bright eyes, one a bright green the other an even brighter blue were gazing happily into a single fire red ember which I had set before her atop the stump when I swore something moved in the fog. Not a mass of dark shadows, but yellow cat like eyes. They hovered over out in the fog, though they had positioned themselves over Freya's head, so I could not tell if it was the gleem in her eyes melting with my imagination or if there truly were yellow cat like eyes dangling out in the fog more than five feet or more off the ground.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

World's Over Journal XIX Odd Family

It was a day of the finest of quality, with Priscilla sitting with me at the kitchen table and her guardian friend Toki sitting under the threshold of the front door, we ate breakfast together. It seemed to me that Toki, the ghostly white and terrifying to look upon troll, had taken over the mothering rights to Priscilla; she rarely left her side and when she did, always she looked into my eyes, leaving only after we had both nodded consent.

On this gloomy morning the forest was filled with a thick fog and so the whole realm was aglow, a shade of tangible turtle shell green. The young maiden was wearing an egg shell blue dress which we had gone out into the crab tank Bahamut to obtain. No one else woke when we entered, Toki's eyes were filled with tears mingled with sorrow and hatred as she looked over those who slumbered within. Priscilla and I had gone in and grabbed her suite case and a crate of clothes which she had snuck aboard and hidden underneath the bunk beds amidst the food boxes. She was discussing her dreams, it seemed that she had only one constant dream the whole time she was in the vile state of sleeping death.

Whatever it was, I was surely glad she was awake. The birth of an odd family had begun, Charles, Toki, Freya and myself the parents of a lonely young girl in a scary new world filled with many dangers.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Charles & Freya Granite & Marsh

Naught more than thirteen steps beyond the massive network of shallow red Manzanita roots of the large tree which we had descended did we began to making our way slowly downhill. The ground opened up before us as we descended, not a tree before us or on either side, only loose rock and mud. Not soon after we began descending we found ourselves in a new labyrinth of granite walls covered in moss with large boulder formations jutted out from the earth here and there.

For hours we wandered about the granite labyrinth, ever so slowly making out way down hill; which really was the only thing that kept us from going in circles. We stopped once we reached what seemed like the bottom of the hill and the end of the granite walls which held our eyes captive under the fog, there before us was a marsh. Amidst an endless network of dark pools lay uneven ground of turf and tall grass, which we knew was unsafe even to look upon. Hidden from our eyes behind the patches of tall grass, rock and fog were dangers unseen, so there between the last two granite walls of the latest labyrinth we built a small fire for which we used small sticks for kindling.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Friday, December 2, 2011

World's Over Journal XVIII Priscilla & Toki

Priscilla was the only child with us, a family member of one of the soldiers whom travelled along with us inside Bahamut on our voyage into slumber. She turned to the troll and spoke aloud, ‘Toki, it’s okay this is Jane! I remember her; she was the one tucked me in each night, inside the belly of the iron beast,’ Priscilla’s face bore an ever widening smile as she spoke.

The troll, whose name apparently was Toki, lowered her arm allowing Priscilla to pass, as she did the young girl flew into my arms. Without noticing I had dropped to my knees and tears had begun streaming down my face as Priscilla wrapped her arms around me, I could feel the beautiful warmth of happy tears flowing freely down my neck.

Opening my eyes I saw that the troll named Toki’s face bore a smile, it was not hideous, despite a mouth full of fangs most of which were hidden behind her lips. There were no rough hard lines about her thin and beautiful white face, which beamed with life at the sight of her surrogate daughter’s happiness.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Charles & Freya A New Fear

We began the next morning by packing before descending down the tree. Freya had been up already for more than an hour and had just returned from venturing forth out upon one of the branches to get a better view of what lay ahead of us. She hadn’t been able to see anything; the mist over the glade before us was impenetrable.

Freya’s smile was infectious as came bounding back, ‘the birds of the forest chirp in the freedom of the open air before us,’ she said. By the time we were half way down the descending tree our eyes were availed by the dense fog. ‘I believe that the best thing about today will be reaching the ground,’ Freya said her eyes bright above a beaming smile.

The last few feet down I climbed down with Freya upon my shoulder. As my feet hit the forest floor we heard it, not far behind us somewhere out in the mist, the panther had returned. The fog was naught but a few feet above our heads, though before us as the ground descended it lay thick and availed the creature from our eyes. The edge of the forest was before us, on both our right and left the forest’s opened up, as a great red wall ends abruptly upon the boarder of its territory. We were about to step out into a new strange land.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Monday, November 28, 2011

World's Over Journal XVII Green Glowing Face

After a few whispered words the troll lowered her right arm and out stepped a small green faced little girl half hidden under a cloak, much like the trolls. At first I believed that standing before me was a troll and her child, but this thought quickly faded as I realized that it was the light of the green rising sun which made the child’s face appear green, for both the troll and the child at her side had green faces.

The troll turned to face me and sat relaxed upon the hind hinges of its ankles. Both she and I were waiting for the child to respond to seeing me. The young girl raised her hands and removed the hood of her cloak from covering much of her face. At first I did not recognize the child but she at once knew me, even before her hands reached her side, she burst out.

‘Jane,’ the girl chirped in surprise, with that she began to run towards me but the troll put her arm out between and held her back. Then it hit me, the creaking I heard earlier was the tank rear hatch opening, that before me stood Priscilla fully awake.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Charles & Freya Edge of the Forest

In the early hours of the evening on our second day of traversing the red labyrinth high above the forest floor we came to a tree which lead us slowly back towards the ground. As we started to descend the bright green foliage of the Manzanita trees opened up and we could see that before us lay a dense fog, which meant we had come to the gap in the forest.

Neither of us had spotted the panther during the course of our travels that day, though we could not relax, the tension brought on by the uncertainty of fear was unrelenting.
That night we camped in the bough of the dissention tree, upon the largest branch which gave us the best view of the opening in the labyrinth behind us and the fog hovering above the ground below us. Tomorrow we hope to discover what lays below the fog and beyond into the large clearing in the forest, but for now, we rest in peace.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Thursday, November 24, 2011

World's Over Journal XVI Behind the Vale of Shadow

The scream pierced deep into my mind, the echo resonating throughout the forest; I was paralyzed with fear. A shudder sped down my spine riveting my entire body from head to foot, as it reached the ends of my toes I was released from the menace of fear, though I knew not how long it held me a captive statue. Slowly I turned to face the terror behind me.

The vale of shadow must have held me longer than I thought, fear has a unique way of slowing down time when it comes over you. As I turned there before me stood the troll, naught but six feet in front of me, her right arm holding something at bay the left held firmly the spear. The hood which covered the troll’s white face fell back in a gust of light wind, I could see her yellow cat like eyes glaring at me above an open mouth full of fangs which bore a wicked grin of malice.

Then, all at once, the atmosphere of fright was pierced by voice, a soft voice both sweet and precious, unlike any I could remember. I could not make out the words, but the troll suddenly stopped paying me any attention, and stooped down sitting upon her triple hinged cat like legs. Whomever the voice belonged to, was whispering into the troll’s ear. Though I could not make out what was spoken, I could visibly see the troll relax its guard.
The tension of the dark and all the fear passed away as the small being stepped out from behind the troll. . .

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Charles & Freya The Marshes

Early in the morning Freya woke me, the panther was still prowling in the glade beyond the thicket of thorns. We decided to take to the beautiful network of red and barkless branches of the Manzanita trees, which intertwined to craft a network not so unlike a floating labyrinth. There we hoped to find an easier road or at least one were we could more easily spot the panther coming; her black coat against the red of the trees.

Our air journey started off a bit awkward, before becoming accustomed to traversing the majestic network of red branches and bright green budding leaves. The panther followed us still, though upon the ground, which gave us both a good measure of peace. Freya had not been able to communicate with the black cat as of yet, though she had made attempts each night from her perch atop the thicket of thorns.

It was not difficult travelling in the trees, but it was slow going for the most part. Often I had to crawl while Freya scouted on ahead, ever a watchful eye cast upon the panther, who had kept itself always out in the open, much to our relief. It was manageable though, for a great portion of the air journey was walking. Most of the trees were larger than any Manzanita tree ever imagined, the trunk was as thick as two great oak trees put together, most of the branches which formed the labyrinth were as thick as a man, or not more so. The bright green leaves of the red trees sprung forth from their buds about us in patches, where they did so we were hidden from the outside world; a truly wondrous sight to behold as the light streamed down upon us, creating a vast shadow labyrinth high above the forest floor.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Friday, November 18, 2011

World's Over Journal XV Twilight Eyes

That very same night, as I sat silently upon the floor, there came a long drawn out creaking, the sound of a boulder rolling far off in the distance, an even more frightening thought of a doorway opening trampled into my mind’s eye. A shadow of fear fell over me for I had heard no such sound of its likeness as of yet in this strange new world. Slowly rising I hugged the outer wall of the tree house as to peer down the hallway and out the front door. No one was there, only an empty front porch light by the moonlight which shown down upon our farmstead.

With a great sigh of relief the fear passed from me; as it lifted I stepped forward still hugging the wall, slowly making my way towards the front door. Reaching the threshold I looked out over glade to our fenced in gardens, near the cliff by the water basin was the troll.

Without averting my eyes from her I picked up the quiver first, then the bow which stood ever ready in case of need, leaning against the porch under the kitchen window. The fear gripping at my heart did not stop me from advancing several steps down the porch towards her. I now had a clear line of fire at the troll, whom, I noticed, was filling the cup dipping it into the basin. There was a spear resting up right, butt end in the ground, beside the troll with a large head of shining steel which gleamed bright silver in the moonlight. The troll seemed to have noticed me for she stepped off the basin's first terrace, though she did not get any shorter. It appeared that the troll's legs were triple jointed like those of a cat, and that she had been sitting there all this time upon the basin, her hind joint collapsed upon themselves. It hit home hard in my heart just how great of size the troll was as she stood there before me, no less than six and a half feet tall. The troll had been making every attempt to make herself appear small and weak, as prey no larger than myself.

Her white left hand took firm grasp of the spear by its center grip and with a mighty twist it came out of the ground, as it did so the troll stepped forward into a battle position. At her side in the shadows of her cloak I saw the sheaths of many deadly blades, I knew then that I was in the presence of a maiden of battle.

Large yellow eyes flickered at me and I felt as if her blade had already pierced my heart, a fear beyond any I had ever known came over me. Brow sweating and hands clammy, my right gripping tightly the shaft of the bow, and the left an arrow no yet set to the string. The troll narrowed her eyes, but they had shifted their gaze from me, she seemed to be looking past me over my shoulder. There came a loud high pitched scream behind me and the next thing I knew the troll maiden had disappeared into the lush forest in the direction of the water falls beyond the glade of Golem Rock.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Charles & Freya The Black Lion

     Today our first meeting with the dangers of the forest occurred. We had just packed up out lunch on the edge of a meadow, amidst a patch of tall grass under the shadow of the Arbutus canopy when Freya 's hair went straight and ridged. Her nose had caught the sent of something or someone close at hand.

     At the far end of the glade the shadows appeared to be moving under a thicket of black berry thorns. It appeared to be very feline like, a large black cat, much like a panther. Though every so often the creature would stood up on its hind legs, extending it's front legs out like arms to reach berries higher off the forest floor, delicately plucking them with its index finger and thumb. Another anthropomorph perhaps, like Freya and the mouse folk?

     For several minutes, that seemed an eternity of both fear and intrigue, we stood in silence. Freya didn't move a muscle as she stared at the creature of shadow. At last the majestic cat seemed to have had its fill of berries, as if by some magic I had yet to perceive or understand, the being went, under guise of shadow, from standing and appearing much like a humanoid to that of a feline again. Down on all fours it moved slowly, as if it had a premonition of being watched, out into the glade.

      Stepping out into the glade amidst the shafts of sunlight that streaked down from the towering Red Wood canopy high above, the might cat crept. Its paw was twice the size of my battle hardened hands the fur of which shimmered deep sea greens and blues, every few moments under the sun, along with a menacing shade of crimson and purple. I could have sworn it was scales shimmering under the lion's obsidian fur. The magic of its coat appeared more so as the cat stepped wholly into a shaft of light in a display of power it showed off its form, in a stance of majesty, as a king upon a throne stands when aroused to stand in an array beauty disguising a menacing will.

     It was a magnificent feline indeed, but no panther. An Obsidian main covered its menacing face, head and neck, it was a black lion. It stood there for a moment, taking in the sun before melding into the shadow of the forest once more. Later I would recall that I only saw the left side of the magnificent beast in the light, though while it remained in hidden in the half light dark of the thorn bushes we were on its right. Also, I could have sworn, though that night I did not write it down in my journal, that its right eye was forlorn and grey, while its left remained a vibrant yellow that shimmered a in the light a brilliant emerald green.

     'That was close,' came Freya's voice stammering softly into my ears, waking me as if from a dream, I was stirred back into reality. 'The demon was satisfied with our fear of its power.

     'Can the lions...' I began.

     'Demons,' Freya interrupted, 'There are no lions anymore, only the ancient demon's descendants. They were all wiped out at the beginning of the final world war. It was in that time that man's fear of the unknown nearly swallowed the whole earth, luckily the immortals had a plan.'

     I had so many questions, though I had not the nerve to ask for I was yet still overcome by the terrible will projected from the mighty... Demon. The remained of the day we crept along in silence above the forest floor in the Arbutus Labyrinth. That night we barely slept though neither of us felt the presence nor saw a trace of the Black Lion throughout course of our travels towards the marshes that day.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Sunday, November 6, 2011

World's Over Journal XIV Cup Holder

Another night, much like the past few, was passing slowly by. The Troll Maiden coming and going silently, though tonight I had filled the cup of water for her from the tap in the kitchen which was filled from a basin upon the roof so that she wouldn’t have to seek out the basin beyond the fence in the yard.

I rested upon the floor under the threshold of our bedroom door, listening and waiting for her to come for the cup of water. The hallway before me a ran along the western wall of the tree home, the only doors opening on that side lead into the bathroom and a linen closet. A few feet into the hall to my left a doorway opened into the living room. If you did not turn there, then but a few more feet beyond that doorway was the entrance to the kitchen, which opened up to as well to the left and just beyond that down the hall a few extra feet was the front door.

It seemed that I sat there for days in silence, nothing but my heart beating and the distance chirping of a single bird. I felt no fear though, for this silence was serene and not greatly mingled with the overtones of solitude, not like our days in the belly of Bahamut.

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Charles & Freya Thorn Thicket Tale

We did not wake with the dawn, green, blue or red, as we did at the tree home, it was late in the morning when we arose from a deep slumber amidst the darkness of the forest canopy, our bones sore and stiff from our travels. We had fallen asleep underneath a thicket of thorns as large as daggers, which bore here and there large orange flowers akin to roses. Freya slept atop the tallest bush inside one of the flowers, hardly visible to the most prying of eyes, her tunic of bright pinks and lavender blended it splendidly.

It was to be a four day journey there and back, if we did not get distracted by some larger adventure unforeseen or captured. Our mission was to find out who or what lay directly to our east, amidst the gap in the forest canopy where we hoped to find water and perhaps more for I held a minute glimmer of hope to encounter more survivors.

It seemed most valuable to me, that we discover who or what lay within close residence to us, especially to the east; as I had no knowledge yet of that which lay to the immediate west of the tree house, save a forest of endless trees and dense underbrush. If the gap in the forest canopy was indeed a body of water, even a thick tangle of a bog or vile smelling marsh, it could sustain an abundance of life. A settlement perhaps already lay there on the rim of whatever body of water lay before us.

If the others did wake someday, Jane wished it sooner rather than later, if there was any hope for such a thing at all, as waking from hibernation akin to death. Jane does not know, but I checked Bahamut every day for survivors who might have woken up, I don’t think it will occur to her to do the same while I am gone. If anyone wakes they will need water very soon after or risk death from dehydration or from the solitude of fear. I hope they wake, or at least someone wakes, also I Jane checks the tank. Wish I would have mentioned this to her before leaving.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Monday, October 31, 2011

Charles & Freya Departure

With Freya as my companion we ventured forth from the depths of the tree bridge which we had hollowed out the day before. The laser now completely spent on the few sunroof style windows he had cut through. The light was key, but also we hung several leaf buckets for water all along the bridge under each window, as this was much easier access to water than pulling up the bucket and lowering it again.

The forest was dense and beautiful with large red and blue foliage on this side, much more so than on the upper western side, it must have been the root system of the forest’s more readily available access to water. The first day we travelled through the deep blue rose bushes the size of my head, which gave birth to large blackberry tasting berries, which Freya gave leave to eat. The red flowers rippled themselves birthed amongst the blue, but on a different bush, with no thorns at all. Not like the blue blackberry bushes at all, whose thorns seemed as Raptor claw, able to leave deep gashes in my arm or take my hand off, if not careful.

Much of our day was spent ducking and weaving through the bushes until we found a small clearing before dusk, as we did so we could hear, what I could only guess to be, drum beats far off in the distance somewhere before the marsh or body of water I guessed to be the opening in the forest canopy from our vantage point atop the cliffs at home. Here we built a small fire and rested the night, Freya spoke much of the forest’s beauty and danger, but we were both too tired from our day’s trek to remember much, for soon we knew nothing but the darkness of sleep without dreams.

In all hopes of returning,
Charles & Freya

Friday, October 28, 2011

World's Over Journal XIII Silent Night

In the early hours of the morning, as the sun rose into the sky, dawning yet another green day, I found myself missing the red or even blue light of our old sun. I sat silently, buttocks firmly planted on the front steps this had become one of my favourite spots, besides the backside of the Golem Rock under the sunlight at mid-day. I find myself here often, upon the steps, during the day both before and after the daily chores of the garden and fetching water was done.

With my journal in my lap, I began to write, ‘sorry I couldn't manage last night,’ I pause to take in a deep breath and ponder a moment over last night’s events. An awful silence filled me with dread, it occurred as my pen hit the paper to begin writing. No bird or creature could I hear outside or roaming around the halls, as they often seemed to enjoy doing in the hours of darkness. At first I thought it was just my mind wrapped up on itself, too deep in thought to recognize the external, but soon I realized that nothing beyond my self was making any sound.

Then, I heard it, deep footsteps in the hall just beyond my door. I heard the raspy breathing of, what I could only guess, the troll from the other day. She stood in the hall way for a time, I could make her out amongst the shadows, standing there one arm outstretched before her. I heard the sound of scratching, as a finger nail upon a chock board, I dared not think beyond the immediate sense in the moment for fear of arousing her to my presence, though I was almost certain she knew I was there, for my heart beat was loud as my breathing was long and hard in preparation for flight or fight. Suddenly she turned her gaze from the wall and two bright orbs of yellow pierced the darkness, stealing my breath away, and she was gone

In earnest anticipation of,
Without Charles

Monday, October 24, 2011

World's Over Journal XII The Beauty of Dread

Today the loneliness left by Charles and Freya’s departure was lost and forgotten for what I felt after a strange encounter encompassed my whole day. I saw a troll, a female to be sure. I had been sitting upon the steps in the early hours of the day, remarking on the size and structure of the dark alder brown footprint against the light tan pine steps when I saw her. She was standing beyond the fence of the yard in the open clearing before the ravine, the dawn’s green refractive light glowed green upon her pale white skin.

She was looking up the tree line along the ravine so I could not make out her face, save for two large tusks protruding from her mouth, up and slightly out. Indeed from that distance all I could not make out just how large the troll was, for she looked to be hunched over, almost kneeling. She seemed no taller than myself, nor did she seem to be of great bulk, a beautiful yet terrifying slender creature. Her long white-gray hair was draped nearly to the ground. It was kept up in several braids of various sizes which were held together with binds woven of black and lavender cloth, the main middle one seemed as large as both my arms put together. Despite the vast amounts of beautifully kept hair, it seemed to be receding, that or trolls just had larger foreheads than we humans do.

Amidst her many braids were her ears, which she had four of. I could see that her left ear, the one closest to me, had several piercings with red hoop or bone though them and stuck out at least a six to eight inches above her head, as I’d imagine some elves do. Behind and just below the tall front ear was a smaller ear, with no piercings at all, but it was much like the first. It seemed to be pulsing, that is how I noticed it at first, hidden amongst the braids.

She turned slightly away from me, then I realized she was beside the water basin. The troll lifted a brown leather pouch from the basin held in a white hand with but three broad fingers, with great talon like nails and held it flask to its lips. As she did the tension in the air fell away and her foot long pointed ears relaxed to rest on her shoulders which her cloak of gray, brown and green draped over, all the way to the ground availing the details of her form from my eyes.

Only after her ears relaxed did I dare move, before that I had been bound by fear and intrigue, trying to take in every aspect of the beautiful yet terrifying creature before me. As she lowered the flask of water her face tilted towards me, ever so slightly. I could have sworn that the troll’s great yellow, cat like eyes, flashed in the sunlight. From what I recall of her face, it was not ugly, though I was held in dread for a moment by her eyes and could not take in the its full beauty. It was of purest white, with but two large tusks which protruded as high up as her forehead, though she had six lesser fangs, a set each going up and down on the inside of the larger tusks.

The troll remained perfectly still with extraordinary balance motionless and beautiful as a stone gargoyle. I suddenly found myself at the bottom of the steps, and as the flask was once again hidden from sight underneath her cloak that my bare feet touched the grass. In that moment she knew me, my presence was known, her eyes flashed their full glare upon me, I blinked and saw only the green light of the sun reflecting when I opened my own and she was gone.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Friday, October 21, 2011

World's Over Journal XI Footsteps of Doom

There came the sound of a great crash from inside the house. I had just left the kitchen after brewing some tea which Freya had taught us how to make with various herbs, and was now sitting upon the frost steps. Fear struck deep within me, for Charles and Freya were gone off on their quest for the past three days now and there was no other entrance to our tree home but the second level doorway and I sat upon the threshold.

‘Nothing big could have gotten by me’, I said to myself, nothing I could have seen that is. As I stood up there beside my hand was a footprint upon the wooden step. It was twice as large as mine, the ball of a foot and three large toes. Whatever it was, it was very large, for the foot print was of dried mud, but fresh as if by the sheer weight of the creature had it been left. There were only two other footprints upon the whole entrance way and staircase, which were before the threshold, as if it had leapt from ground ten feet to our mid stair and then landing once again before the doorway.

There was no sound but the breeze and a flock of several birds not far off high above in the trees, nothing else after the loud crash. I decided that since I had been in the house or upon the staircase that whatever it was, surely would have noticed me, so I called out. ‘Hullo’ I had said, no response came, so with all my nerve I entered. I saw no one and heard nothing else that day, save the birds and the wind.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

World's Over Journal X The Tree Bridge

Well Charles is finally off on his adventure beyond the tree which fell over the ravine. He had been debating with himself to go see if the gap in the tree line was a source of water for several days now. Freya went with him, to give him advice about what plants or small creatures he may not want to touch. She also mentioned that if they come across any angels it would be best if Charles had a local representative with him, to persuade them not to take him captive or kill him on the spot.

We had spent a few days preparing for their adventure, taking supplies from Bahamut’s belly. The portable laser we had moved to were the tree had fallen and hidden it for the night, it was to be used only to carve a passage through the tree to the other side, a bridge inside the tree if you will, was our purpose. A supply of several days’ worth of water was brought up from the river at the bottom of the ravine, Charles had built a large crank as to lower a large bucket down on a cable, there were several gears so even I could do it without tiring myself out after one load.

No one else had woken yet, though it seemed as if Priscilla had moved, though when I had checked her heart and pulse, she was just as asleep as she ever had been, as they had always been. Charles and Freya had left very early just before the sun had rose above the tree line far beyond the ravine, a bright fiery orb of the most delightful and radiant blue which flickered to white or green, before turning it’s bright red at noon.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Ps. Charles said that we’re still on earth, that the sun is the very same sun we’ve always looked up to. He rambled on, over morning tea on the front steps, about particles scattered in the sky or turbulence in the atmosphere which, along with the angle of the earth’s trajectory orbit around the sun, had given us longer periods of a refractive effect. Something which normally only happened for short periods before sundown. Also, I could have sworn I heard him mumble something about radiation, from the war.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

World's Over Journal IX Odd Rock

Today I went for a walk up the gorge above the river, a suggestion given to me by Freya, who seemed to have become my shoulder companion lately. She often said it was easier than walking beside me, and I enjoyed her presence there, so close to me. After walking not more than a kilometer we came to a small meadow, its edges bright with a most lovely purple flower. In the center of the glade was a large rock, a very round rock it was, almost perfectly so.

‘That’s a rock golem,’ whispered Freya into my ear, ‘don’t worry though he’s been there for an age of the earth or so it seems.’ She leapt from my shoulder and clambered off amidst the tall grass. I didn’t see her until she appeared again scurrying up the rock side. After reaching the top she turned to me, gave a sweeping curtsy and struck the rock twice with the end of her staff.

‘See he won’t wake, silly old creature,’ Freya pronounced with confidence. ‘Not unless by some feat of unspoken magic he wakes, but that will not happen,’ she said with a wink of her blue eye while a smile danced upon her tiny pink lips.

‘Don’t toy with me like that,’ my mouth retorted before I could withhold and with that I stepped into the glade amidst the tall grass, ‘for I do not know anything of the deep magic.’ I heard Freya let out a tiny giggle underneath the brim of her hat as she stooped over pretending to be interested in something upon the Golem’s back.

‘Come and sit upon the rock for it is warm as if the sun shown endlessly upon it,’ Freya beckoned to me, ‘It is not very often that I’ve come this far north. Always our family knights hunted in the glades, but the bugs that dwell here can get big, even I may have trouble fending them off alone if too many gathered or I wondered into a nest,’ she finished with a heavy hearted sigh as she sat down and crossed her legs.

Once I had gotten closer to the Golem I found that even as it was, all curled up in a circle, it was nearly as tall as I was. Courage I mustered up as I moved my hand to find a grip as to pull myself up. My fingers clamped down and my foot found a small ledge, the large rock Golem did not stir, though I found it very warm indeed. We spend the rest of the day sitting upon, what we presumed was, the Golem’s back watching the sun go down west into the trees. Charles met us there and together as a family, we walked home. Though I was certain not for the last time from the spot where the Golem lay.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Saturday, October 8, 2011

World's Over Journal VIII First & Fast Friends

Freya and I had become fast friends over the course of the past few weeks. You see, she had lost all her family to an owl while moving to a stump of a fallen sapling beside the creek which ran underneath it and off into the ravine. I was sad for her, but they were not dead she said, the owl bore the markings of a wise one, he would not eat them once he had received them in his eyrie. Though there was little chance that he would bring them home to her as well. Owls, even the water aware ones, did not overly trouble themselves in the plights of others. Their energy was stored for the moon and the hunt.

So it was that she had made her home in our kitchen upon the counter, in the wall beside the window, which looked out to the stump and the gorge beyond. Freya told me she had left a note there for her family to find, ‘they were of a brave and loyal line,’ she had said, they would do all in their power to come home to her.

Much there was for Charles and I to learn of our new world, so every night we would gather together by the fire and listen to what Freya had to tell. Of great rock creatures she spoke telling us that all the animals were sentient, or at least they were at the dawn of the great war, and dragons she had seen, just beyond the gorge in the swamp beside the lake. Beyond that was another thick patch of dark forest, farther still was the great wasteland, mountains and plains where to water dwelt. There only the great earth worms lived, though it was said that legions of warriors without any stores were seen passing over it, always heading north. Freya had never seen such a sight, though she had seen small caravans of sickly looking people, caught somewhere between the afterlife and this world, making their way with great haste to the north, always northwards.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

World's Over Journal VII Freya

It didn’t take long before we had our first encounter with a living creature in our new world. Not but a week in the tree house did I come across a dear little one. Before I go one, you must throw out all notions of the creatures you know from the world around you. In fact, imagine not even your own world anymore, whoever mother earth was, she is something much more magnificent, wondrous and beautiful now. The world around me moves the soul inside of me to keep living, for its beauty and discoveries yet to be, for Charles and the others still sleeping inside of Bahamut.

I had seen it out of the corner of my left eye over my shoulder. A small pink creature scurried across the floor between the island and the kitchen counters. It was a mouse, I could have sworn it! But how could such a thing be a mouse, for the moment it knew I had seen it, it stopped and turned its head over its shoulder to see acknowledge me. Large bright eyes glared up at me, one blue the other green, from a white face under the brim of an overly large red wizard’s hat. I knew then that it was not a pink creature, but white mouse garbed in a pink and red waist coat which hovered just above her feet when she stood still. It turned to face me, standing tall on its hind legs. In its left hand was a tiny staff of wood with a bronze head, like that of a dragon.

Ever the smile did not leave its pleasant and beaming face, not until: ‘Hullo Jane,’ it spoke softly with a voice sweet yet powerful like an angel. I knew then that it was really a she. As the little miss bid me good day she swept the hat off her head with her right hand and fluidly stooped, but a little, into a most gracious curtsy. That is how I met Freya.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Monday, October 3, 2011

World's Over Journal V Redwood

I know it’s been a few days, lots to catch up on, though as I write this... I don't know if I have the heart to tell you of the past few days. Charles managed to engage the fusion core, we were both so thankful to have more light than the unstable emergency ones. We got the external cameras online and were able to take in our surroundings.

Our tomb was in the centre of a forest of the most majestic trees either of us had ever seen. We stared in awe at the two monitors as they panned back and forth over the forest floor. The Bahamut was propped up against a most unnaturally large tree, gigantic Sequoia, larger than any we had ever laid eyes on. Charles decided that the moment needed some tension defusing.

'It would seem that a trek into the wild wouldn’t be such a wise move since we know next to nothing biology of the flora and fauna of the region,' Charles had said, in an attempt to defuse tension. He quickly noticed that it did not work, he promptly leaned in for a kiss, I turned to him and he got one. I had been mesmerised by fear of the unknown. Lucky for me, my husband knows me well, even if his humour never evolved, his mind stuck in the stone ages of dreary scientific logic.

Later that day Charles ran some tests and discovered that there was enough power left in the fusion core to use the secondary laser three or four times, depending on length of use per shot. After that there would be enough to charge the laser saw twice before all being completely drained.

After that I managed to find some food while rummaging through the compartments which had been power locked. My day was made and I sat back happy with my hands tearing at protein bars and a special cranberry juice, which was still quite tasty. Seeing that I was content Charles kept up his work in front of the computer screen. Later on he advised me that he was devising a plan to make a tree house. But that it would take meticulous planning before he could implement it.

The plan was to cut down the tree which Bahamut rested against and make our home in the hollowed out stump with the laser saw. Charles decided to stop the tree from disturbing the forest floor next to the tree by using the cable launcher to pull it over so that on its trajectory down it would hit the mightiest branch of the neighbouring tree, but that the cables would be fired then, pulling it over the branch so that it acted as a leaver. The tree would then be slide off the far end of the branch and down a slope, sliding away from the our would be home.

The next day the forest would wake to a calamity, a blizzard of wood chips, branches, leaves and earth. A might thwomp that shook the forest's floor as it slid down the slope towards a ravine. Then we would leave our tomb forever...

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Saturday, October 1, 2011

World's Over Journal VI Day's Light

When first we took in the sight of our surroundings it was dawn, the light was streaming through a dense forest of the largest and most wondrous Redwoods I’ve ever seen.

‘Sequoia darling,’ Charles corrected me as I gasped ‘Red…wood,’ slowly taking in the immense sight beside us. It was nearly a seventy feet round, its bark was thicker than Charles’ arm and so red it seemed as though the blood of all the warriors who died in the last war had stained it so. The tree was nearly the height of a towering sky scraper and at its top were boughs of dark green, beautiful. All around us in every direction, save east, for as far as we could see, the canopy of Giant Sequoia trees surrounded us. Immediately our eyes were drawn to the dense undergrowth of beautiful purple flowers, much like a giant Orchid. There were many other unique flowers nearby, though we did not linger long in them for our eyes were drawn to a second species of tree that grew close together underneath the Redwood, they were Arbutus trees. They had formed a second canopy below the Sequoia's, the trees had managed to create a twisting labyrinth as the branches that formed their boughs grew together. It was an amazing sight to behold.

Our little hollow, was but a glad in the majestic forest which was to be our home the Bahamut resting silently against it, our comrades hibernating inside. Beyond the tree, to the East, was an open field of tall grass before the slope. The rock was dark red though here and there were large blots of gray stone. Flowing steadily nearly a few thousand feet below us was a river of deep blue.

Next Charles mapped out a floor plan for our home, powered the laser saw and went into the tree about fifteen feet from the ground, he promised to build me a grand staircase. It took him a few days, but he managed to hollow out two floors for us to live in with a fantastic, broad and deep step staircase, I was very impressed. After that, the fusion core flicked out and all was silent inside Bahamut once again. We left a note in the hand of each of the comrades, though we posted one to the casing which held three of them captive inside the gunnery core of the right arm. We left the Bahamut’s large rear hatch open, for the angle it sat on no weather could get inside, though at night we closed it for fear of… Whatever might be out there, in our massive new world.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Thursday, September 29, 2011

World's Over Journal IV Just a Dream?

It wasn’t a dream; Lights, brilliant blue illuminated the silent steel husk of Bahamut. Whether by some tampering of Charles earlier that day or the lifting of some magic from our tomb, the fusion power core had become active. All around us the silence manifested itself, once our minds rested in the darkness and flickering of blue, now that we could see everyone around it, an eerie feeling much like death was upon us.

We began looking around only to find all the others situated in a state of hibernation or death without decay. Edgar, Motron and Boren a heap of crumpled armour sealed behind the protective shield that now held them captive inside the cannon core. Maggie along with her husband Leinis were both huddled together against ammunition crates near the bunks to the right of the command console; Croglin with his wife Celise were cuddled up tightly together in the bunk just behind them. Ceska, the wife of Motron, had Priscilla, the only child on board, wrapped tightly in hear arms on the floor just behind the center bulkhead along the right shell wall behind the others. Ruldo sat motionless his head bowed with both hands upon his lap in the command console. The solitude of silence steals heartbeats from my chest.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Ps. That is all my heart could bear to write.

Friday, September 23, 2011

World's Over Journal III Breathing Awake

Early this morning our tomb’s silent darkness was broken; I call it morning, but honestly I had no idea what time of day it is. The flickering of fusion energy within the tubes, which we usually slept through by now, stabilized into bright blue beams of light all around us. The floors, walls and ceiling lit the entirety of our once corpse like shell.

Though much of our little world seemed more alive than we had ever known it, no one else reanimated. It was eerie, as for the first time we took in with our eyes the full weight of our tomb. Those sleeping remained in their slumber, heads bowed with clumps of matted hair hanging over their grimy emotionless faces, uncaring at the change in life around them. Silent guardians in their combat armour sat or lay about us where they had fallen. Some in their battle stations or huddled against one another beside an ammo crate or cuddled together on a bunk arm over arm. They weren’t even breathing, all at once this fact, which we had been oblivious to until now, hit the both of us hard, how didn’t we notice this before?

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

World's Over Journal II Time & Place

So Charles and I had been attempting to work out where we were headed. Mostly we rambled back and forth in the silence until our voices were harsh or we one of us fell asleep, head upon the other’s shoulder. One night after a few hours of what could only be described as banter Charles blanked out, I looked at him and he was as white as a sheet with his jaw hanging wide open like a cod fish, and his eyes we lamp in the darkness. He stirred suddenly saying “Antioch, we’re supposed to meet the mobile fleet there. But we won’t make it, resistance at Three Rivers, tell command.

So he believes we are now just south of a place called Three Rivers along something called the I-Five, and that we were on our way to a place called Antioch. Before being hit, or falling asleep whichever came first, we were on our way to join the massive mobile core for a flanking assault upon our enemy’s rear guard. Along with Bahumat there were three other Ghost XI model mobile tanks, six single man and dual operator Crab II model quadruped tanks. A total of thirty seven well trained soldiers and seven stole away civilian family members in the Bahumat.

Supplies of water are getting short, the silence haunts our dreams, soon we will have to move the others to see if there are any liquid rations in the crates they are slumped up against. I hope Charles can get the power core back online, every day he spends countless hours in the darkness underneath the commanders console where the fusion reactor resides.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

World's Over Journal I Silent Tomb

     This is the first entry in the journal logs Charles suggested we start keeping, for the most part to help keep us sane. We can only write for short periods, during the bursts of blue light which goes running through the fusion tubes along the floor or above us on the roof of our otherwise bleak and silent tomb. Charles will be helping, you know, with the technical military verbiage I just never understood, which there isn't much purpose of learning it now; not now, now that it’s all over. It doesn't look like we’ll be leaving this mechanical beasts belly any time soon.

     Twelve of us there were in the geay and black camouflage steel belly of Bahumat. Only Charles and I are awake, the others seem to be in a state of hibernation, which we cannot wake them from, no matter what we try. Water down their front, a good slap to the face, the beautiful key strokes of the piano, we cannot wake them, and we cannot get out. I'm sad, for it seemed that Charles and I woke so easily, amongst the erratic flashes of bright silver blue light.

     Today is our thirteenth day stuck inside the Bahumat, a hexapod class tank; which was made to in the image of a very large and well armoured crab. When it was new there were cannon turrets where operators sat, with one large one for its right arm instead of a claw. Several antennae stuck from the Bahumat’s face, just above the eyes, which functioned as turrets themselves. But now was our silent tomb, resting against the largest tree I've ever seen. Bahumat was missing three of its six legs, the middle right and the outer two on the left, which was propped against the tree; only the large right claw cannon remaining of its two magnificently powerful arms.

      Bahumat was a third generation crab tank, able to hold a crew of up to seventeen. It had several bunks, a small mess and a wash room with a pleasant sized shower; which I’d like to point out, is no longer functioning. The Driver's consoles had to be operated by three specialized pilots while in combat, one for normal leg movement across whatever desolate or jagged terrain the tank may need to cross; another for the rotation of the torso of the crab, and the third to be the eyes and ears, to plan all tactical moves ahead of its victim’s. These were all under the command of the Bahumat’s captain, who had the ability to control the whole tank and all its functions from his console if necessary, which he did mostly out of combat or in moments of dire need. The pilot next to him was combat movement and evasive manoeuvres while his counterpart was weapons and systems alert.

      Behind the captain’s command chair was another station with many screens and panels which controlled defensive shields, counter measures, decoys and energy flow within the tank. The whole inner right side of the tank was a cooling core for the large laser claw cannon. Inside the round cannon core sat three operators, a mechanical engineer who monitored heat and the shield, a second which was the loader and finally, the firing operator.

      When the tank was active there many screens and cooling tubes which lined the floors and ceiling for power that flashed a bright blue light while they streamed the liquid laser from the command chair, which was raised above the main laser reactor. Behind and beside the whole command console and defensive panel there was several feet of storage for weapons and ammunition or anything else the military trained murderers might need in the Last Great War. The left side of the tank was mostly living quarters and storage for the necessaries to keep people alive while living inside Bahumat. Before the silence of the last great war, I hadn’t cared how amazing my husband's tank was or is, but now it is the only our only memory, all else before this has faded. Sparks of blue laser light flash every so often along the walls, floor and ceiling as the core attempts to reengage and the emergency power wane. Before the world ended or... Was changed.

     Neither of us is sure, or can really recall, how the immortal races ended the Last Great War, known to humanity as the Third World War. I don't understand it all really. Did they put us all, every human, into this state of hibernation… If so, for how long have we been sleeping? There is no date or time which we can find to tell. We cannot get out and we can't wake our comrades from their sleep state. We cannot remember the past, not a single event before the war’s end.

In earnest anticipation of,
With Charles

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

World's Over Journal Waking

So this is it, here I go.

     Charles suggested I start a journal to keep myself sane as it doesn't look like we'll be venturing out from our steal tomb any time soon. Charles did promise to make the odd entry, mostly for clarification purposes I'm sure. Today is our thirteenth day in the Bahumat, a quadruped tank; which to me looks something like a large well armoured Ghost Crab. When it was new large cannons and antenna stuck covered the tank, but now it sat resting against the largest tree I've ever seen, missing three of it's six legs with only the large right claw cannon remaining.

      Having said that there are so many in here, you get a picture that this crab like tank is by no means small, the Bahumat series is the third generation crab tank able to hold a crew of up to seventeen, bunks, a mess and a washroom with a pleasant sized shower.

     Twelve of us there were in the gray steel belly of Ghost X1 only Charles and myself are awake, the others seem to be in a state of hibernation. We cannot wake them, despite our greatest effort. Don't think that this Crab like tank. The Driver's console had to be operated by three specialized pilots while in combat, one for normal leg movement for travel, he was the pilot in charge while out of combat since he could operate the console solo. The pilot next to him was combat movement and evasive maneuvers while his counterpart was weapons and systems alert.

     Behind them sat the captain in a command chair with many screens and panels which he controlled shields, counter measures and decoys or if need be the whole tank. The whole right side of the tank was an outer shell of a cooling core for the large laser claw cannon. Inside the round cannon core sat three operators, two mechanical engineers and a loader. When the tank was active many screens and lights flashed while stream like tubes of the liquid laser lined the floors from the command chair to the laser cooling core. Behind the captain's command seat there was several feet of storage for weapons and ammunition or anything else the military trained murderers might need in the Last Great War. Can you see where Charles has edited for descriptive support on behalf of my not so technical approach, which is really me not caring about how amazing my husband's tank is or was. Before the world ended or... Was changed.

     Neither of us is sure how the immortal races ended the Great War, known to humanity as the Third World War. I don't understand it all really, I only know that we can't wake people from this state no matter what we try or how hard. Soon we will have to move out from the tank as the two of us don't want to use all the stores between just the two of us...