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SpikeSpiegel
Swimming Bird
 Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
The Matrix: Hot Ice
Please do not post comments in this thread, if you have anything to say please PM it to me.
Please also note that this is a sequel to The Matrix: The way the wind blows and as such contains spoilers for that story.
KMC presents
A story by SpikeSpiegel
Based on an RPG by Ushgarak
THE MATRIX
Hot Ice
Starring
SpikeSpiegel as Cloud
Lana as San
Besbin Bart as Mors
Captain Rex as Ares
Tptmanno1 as Burn
Barbarossa as Barb
General Kaliero as Hawk
Vera21 as Melis
Fire as Fire
Aliies as Firewall
Ushgarak as Dallas/Ariadne/Sequel/Marduk/Finn/Various others
Also Starring
Trickster as Azrael
General Zink as Heph
Alkaselzer as Klez
Newjak as Beserker
Lord Melkor as Melkor
Storm as Mirage
Brit as Sirin
Himo as Balder
Johnatthedisco as Helios
KingDubya as Spades
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Nov 8th, 2006 04:52 PM |
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SpikeSpiegel
Swimming Bird
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Prologue
The skin on his hands tore on the metal walls, his shoes failing to slow his descent. In a final attempt he pushed his body forward, hitting the ground hard and bouncing along the concrete floor. Ahead his friends clambered into a small wooden shack they were trying to free themselves. Time slowed down to a crawl, as the young man, just turned nineteen looked around, bullets were coming at him from his left. A man in a suit had leapt down behind him and now ran forwards. Blood dripped from the cuts on his hands, his whole body ached, and he knew it would soon be over. He looked back at his team-mates, he knew it was futile to try and escape now, he raised his hand and motioned for them to go on without him.
One of his friends shouted his name, waking him from his slow-motion delirium. “Cloud!” A katana spun in the air, Cloud gritted his teeth and pushed himself to his feet, his bloody hand reaching out and grabbing the hilt of the blade, he pivoted on his front foot, bringing the blade down on his pursuer. The man in the suit leant backwards as the blade past over him. He had a confident, unconcerned look on his face, his eyes covered with dark sunglasses. Cloud brought the blade down again, swinging wildly, he knew he would die there, all he hoped to gain was time for his friends to escape.
A hand reached up and grabbed his blade, Cloud looked on in despair. A strong fist caught him just below his solar plexus, his body flung backwards as if it were nothing more than a toy. The hut stopped his trip as he crashed through one of the walls, and hit a table, the table collapsed, the phone that lay atop it exploding from a bullet through the open doorway. Blood trickled over his eye and down his cheek, one of the men in suits appeared at the door. Cloud glanced up at the second phone on the wall. He could never reach it, but he had to hope. He slowly stood, staring deeply into his opponent’s sunglasses then darting to the phone. Another punch hit home in his ribcage, his body again thrown, this time into one of the huts structural beams. The beam snapped in half, a second telephone landing on the ground just next to his hand.
His whole body was in pain, he tried to move his arm, but nothing happened. His ribs ached, more than likely snapped into two under his skin. This was the end.
A voice called out to him, like a message from god, a voice only he could hear, a woman’s voice, though there was no speaker around. “Cloud! Just get out of there…” The voice filled him with a renewed strength, he pushed himself forwards, grabbing the phone and pulling it to his ear as the man in the suit tried to shoot at him. His body vanished in a blur…
Two months later…
Cloud woke in a cold sweat. An old alarm clock lay on an empty oil drum next to his bed. The blanket which he used as a duvet lay on the floor, strewn to the side in his restless sleep. The clock showed the time at 3:03 in the morning, the two bells on top were covered with rust and no longer rang. Cloud reached down and used his duvet to wipe the sweat from his torso and face. He threw the duvet back onto his mattress and grabbed a knitted shirt from the top of a metal chest. Bandages still covered the main part of his chest, his bones were nearly healed, the agent’s punch had broken all of the ribs down one side of his body, and they still hurt when he moved to quickly. Nevertheless, he had requested a medical to show he was fit for duty. The Persepolis was due back in a weeks time to refuel and he wanted to be back on it when it set out for its next mission. Slowly, he pulled on his shirt and moved to the door, putting one hand on the wall and heaving, the door often jammed and brute force was the only solution he had found. Outside his accommodation lay the city of Zion. His home for the past six months since he was “freed” from the clutches of the Matrix. He leant over the railing that ran around the outside of the floor and looked down below at the magnificent city. Slowly, his eyes closed and he took a long, deep breath. Letting it out just as slowly, his mouth gently turned into a smile and his eyes opened again.
Three months he had been stuck back here, he had been nursed back to health after his first major mission. Although his ribs were nearly healed, the deep cut on his left temple had faded into a scar. The cut had been deep enough to trick his mind into splitting the skin in the real world too, he didn’t quite understand it. He knew that his mind was powerful enough to make what happened in the “dream world” real, but he never thought that his mind could split his skin.
Several other crew members from his ship and its sister ship had stayed behind in Zion too to recuperate, although Cloud had taken the worst of the beatings. He pushed himself back from the railings and turned to the long balcony that ran around the floor. He took another deep breath and set off jogging around the city, something that he had done every day since he had felt his ribs were able enough.
Cloud sat down in one of the several seats around the machine. A doctor and several nurses stood around, checking other machines and pushing various buttons on the machine that Cloud was sat in. It was a simulation pod, a machine which could access the construct of the Matrix, a way to test if people were fit enough for duty, or showing recently freed people the horrors of the Matrix without putting them at any harm.
“Ok, then Cloud. We’re going to boot you into the Dojo program, against a foe as strong as you. If you can defeat him then I’ll Ok you for regular duty. Otherwise you’re stuck here until you do pass and there’s a ship available for you to…”The doctor spoke to Cloud slowly, before being cut off.
“The Percy is my ship, it’s that or nothing.” Cloud cut in, looking up at the Doctor, “I’m ready…just plug me in.”
A sharp pain hit Cloud in the back of the neck and his eyes immediately shut.
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Nov 8th, 2006 04:54 PM |
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SpikeSpiegel
Swimming Bird
Gender: Male
Location: United Kingdom |
Cloud opened his eyes to an empty Dojo. In the centre of the room was a dark wooden stand, atop it sat a katana. Cloud looked around, there was no-one. He moved forwards towards the sword, inspecting it for any traps. A small flash appeared in the blade, Cloud’s reaction was instant. He leapt to the side as a spear came down, shattering the wooden pedestal. Holding the spear was a tall, muscular man. Long black hair ran down past his shoulders. The man regained his posture, a tattoo showing on his bare chest; it read “Heretic.”
Cloud’s eyes went to the blade on the floor then back to his opponent. The man spun his spear around, slashing down at Cloud. Cloud’s speed was faster than it had been all those months before when he had been on his first mission. He flung his weight forwards, grabbing the spear’s long shaft with his right hand and throwing his left forwards in a left hook. Heretic took the punch, barely flinching as though it was nothing to him. Quickly following up his punch, Cloud flung his weight onto his right arm, pushing the spear forcibly into Heretic’s face. Heretic stumbled backwards, as Cloud let go of the spear.
Cloud grinned, though Heretic recovered faster than he had anticipated. The base of the spear found its way through Cloud’s defence, throwing him to the floor by the katana. His left hand grabbed his blade’s hilt and he threw his right foot up into Heretic’s knee, dropping him to the floor. Cloud rolled to the side, giving them both a chance to get to their feet.
Circling each other, the two men stared deeply into the other’s eyes. Cloud’s mind raced, he had heard the name Heretic before. A captain that had died from an accident several weeks before. He found it strange that he was being pitted against one of Zion’s finest captains, it was almost as if he was meant to lose.
Cloud lunged forwards, hitting the top end of the spear, pushing it away and rolling under the base as it spun around again. His blade came up, blocking another swing as he pushed it down and hopped over the lowered spear. He swung, catching the spear’s hilt again as Heretic blocked. Cloud shoved the spear away, moving in and flinging his elbow into Heretic’s chest. Heretic recoiled, his head coming down and slamming into Cloud’s face. Cloud fell, tripping over the spear. He looked up dazed as Heretic brought his foot down on Cloud’s ribcage. Cloud let out a blood-curling scream. He rolled over, one hand grabbing his ribs as he used his sword to help himself get to his feet. A strong sense of Déjà vu hit as he stood, one hand on his wounded ribcage and the other holding his sword up in an en-guard position.
Heretic’s spear came forwards in a lunge. Cloud, stumbled to the side, slicing through Heretic’s side as the spear cut his shoulder. His teeth gritted, Cloud fought through the pain. The two moved back into en-guard positions. The spear lunged again, Cloud dropped his now hurt left arm from his ribs, grabbing the hilt of his blade with both hands and spinning. The spear passed by where he had been stood, Cloud still spun, moving into a position behind Heretic, the sword swinging down again and slicing Heretic’s back. There was no scream of pain from the program.
“He’s good…He should have failed by now………I’m sorry, he’s just not ready…”
“Your test seems to be proving otherwise, Doctor…” Two voices came from somewhere.
Heretic turned, bringing down the spear again, Cloud’s eyes burned a darker blue, his teeth grinding hard. His body was running on pure adrenaline now, the pain in his ribs would be enough to make him collapse any second now. He brought his blade up again, once more it was deflected by the spear. The two men exchanged blows again and again, neither finding any way through the other’s defence. Cloud lunged forwards again, his body staggering from the pain in his ribs, Heretic blocked where the blade should have passed by, but Cloud was on his way down, all his weight going into the lunge. The blade ran through Heretic’s chest as Cloud’s body slumped to the floor.
Cloud’s eyes blinked, as he fell into unconsciousness, Heretic’s body turned green and vanished in a wave of code.
Cloud’s eyes slowly opened back in Zion. A nurse was unplugging him from the simulation machine.
“A draw…?” The doctor asked, unbelieving, “He managed to draw with one of the best captains we’ve ever had…”
“He’s a special one alright,” came a voice from behind, “which is why he’s coming with us…” Cloud turned around slowly, he knew the voice.
“San!? What are you doing here?” Cloud asked confused.
“We’ve received some important information, Captain is reporting his findings to the council as we speak, you’ll be briefed tomorrow, along with the crew of the Shez. I just came to make sure you would be able to come with us this time.”
The doctor moaned, “His ribs are still broken, it’ll be several more months before they are fully healed…at least. He may never fully recover, going on a mission will just harm him further! I am afraid that I can’t let him go with you.”
“He’s completed your test, he is able to fight. He drew in a fight with one of the best people you have on file, he’s ready. Provided he can cope with the pain. There is always the risk of something going wrong and I think that we should leave the decision of whether or not he is going to risk it all up to him. Don’t you Doctor?” San said, moving closer to the doctor and putting on a calm, strong voice that she knew would let her get her way.
The doctor sighed, taking off his battered old glasses, “Fine…it’s his call…” The doctor said reluctantly, “…as long as he knows that his ribs are not healed and any damage to them will cause extreme amounts of pain, and damage them further, I shall pass him.”
Both the doctor and his first officer turned to look at him, “Well, are you game?”
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Nov 8th, 2006 04:55 PM |
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