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09-23-2007, 10:45 PM
| #1 (permalink) |
| Newbie |  Sense of Self Chapter One “Huh?” The young man quickly looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Somehow, he ended up in a train station; by the dim sky above him, he determined it to be about six o clock in the morning. He had no idea where exactly he was or how he got there. He ran his hand through his flowing smoke white hair and laid it on his head. The loud puffing of the huge black train behind him gave him a scare and chased away his thoughts. “Hey, Hey!” He followed the light, lively voice to a young woman a little shorter than he was in a white blouse, wearing a dark blue train operator’s hat that matched her skirt and jacket. She waved, signaling him to come over to the tall stone building she was standing by. “You have to come inside the station to register,” she said, sensing his hesitation. “It’s okay, just come inside.” Not seeing any other option, the man slowly walked into the train station, where the woman was sitting inside of a small booth near the door. “Come over here,” she said, “I need to get your information.” He hobbled over to her, still quite confused about the whole situation but a little comforted by the woman’s lively nature. He finally made it over. “So, what’s your name?” “I … don’t know.” “Come on, just think hard about it, you’ll get something.” Letter by letter, it came to him. “R-e-va-n, Revan. My name is Revan” “Oh, so you do have a name,” the attendant said, smiling. “Yeah, I guess.” “Who are you affiliated with?” “What?” “You have to have some kind of guild or faction. Just take your time.” “Uhhh…” Revan was perplexed. He had faint memories of some kind of origin, some kind of history, but it didn’t include him at all. He had no idea where he came from. “Well, your train came from Travia’s direction.” “Yeah, that’s right. I’m a Gun Fighter… from Travia.” “Super, these are for you.” The woman reached under her desk for what seemed like an eternity, and put weapons on the table. Revan examined each of them as she placed them down. The first two were twin submachine guns, obviously meant to be used together. He admired the great craftsmanship on these two guns and the elegance by which the name Renard was etched onto their sides. Next came two dark green grenades that were held in a special round holster with two holes. Then the attendant put a long sword on the table, a sword so rusty it looked as if it would shatter after the first cut. As he looked at the sword in utter disgust, the attendant started to talk to him. “Put these in the weapon holders on your clothes,” she said, still taking records. Revan strapped the guns to each side of his red pants. He searched around until he found the grenade slot on the inside of the right side of his white shirt. The sword conveniently fit on his back. “They’re kinda heavy, aren’t they?” he said. “Steel does tend to be heavy. You can only have a certain amount of weight on your body before the load becomes too unbearable to carry.” “I can handle a little weight.” “Yeah, that’s what they all say,” she said, standing up. “You’ll sound totally different once you hold a Walcom L1.” She closed her book and began to close up the booth. “Well that’s all I need from you. Good luck out there!” she said, running out of the station. “Wait.” “Huh?” “Where… am I? What am I doing here? And what exactly am I supposed to do with these?” Revan said, holding the two guns in his hand. “You don’t know?” She stared at him, puzzled. “I thought you transferred over from the international server.” “Ser…Ver?” “Oh, well, you’ll pick it up as you go along.” Revan stood there, still confused about the whole thing as he watched her run out of the station. Then she stopped and turned around to him. “Are you coming?” “Yeah, I guess.” “Then hurry up, you’re probably missing some good games right now.” “Games?” “Just come on.” They ran back outside to the big black train. The train began to puff louder and louder each time. “Get on and hold on tight, you’ve got a long way to go.” She closed the door as he got into the passenger car. “Where am I going?” Revan saw her saying something, but the train’s puffing masked her response. Then, as if by magic, the train took off at an amazing speed, pushing Revan back to his seat. Man, this thing is a lot faster than it looks, he thought to himself. The train continued to pick up more and more speed until the scenery outside of the window was a white blur. As he began to black out, one question passed Revan’s mind. What the hell have I gotten myself into? |
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09-26-2007, 03:21 PM
| #9 (permalink) |
| Gunzfactorian Patriot  | Re: Sense of Self I thought this was great. Sure, we all make a few grammar mistakes here and there. I know I personally don't look out for them 100% since this is just for fun. I had no idea what this story was implying until she handed him over the rusty sword, and then I understood it was a parody of starting up a character with the big train in the background. The "international server" joke was pretty funny too. Great work! |
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09-27-2007, 09:57 PM
| #12 (permalink) | |
| Gunzfactorian Patriot | Re: Sense of Self Quote:
I'm interested to see where you are taking this though. I'll read chapter 2 before deciding whether I'm going to follow this series or not. In the meantime you should check out my stuff, its in my signature. Hope you have lots of spare time, lol  !! | |
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