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Literature Text
The Namless Chronicles
-Chapter one-
"Many thousands of years ago, a terrible nuclear eruppted, engulfing all countries in violence, famine, hatred, and death. This war raged for decades, using up the Earth's resources at an alarming rate, until the final atomic bomb was set off, and when the dust cleared, there wasn't a single person left who had the energy to continue fighting. With everyone tired, hungry and battered and the planet's supply of resources run dry, all of it's inhabitants had completly given up hope. Then, a race of aliens from a distant planet, hiding in the moon, took pity on the simple race they had been watching for so long, and helped the humans rebuild and reinvent their societies, culture, even their lives. The people of earth, in light of the events, moved from the year count of A.D. to Post Apocalypse. Now, two thousand and seventeen years later, this is the story of one person, who will change the world. God, Morita, you have GOT to stop talking to yourself. Especially when you're on a job."
Morita Kazuma, age twenty four, was by no means an extremly handsome man, but he certainly was a vain one. His skin was fairly pale for someone who worked outside as often as he did, but then again, most of the outdoors work he did was done at night. His hairstyle had five mainly diagonal upward points along the front, but other then that it was thick, flat and plain. His upper lip bore a fairly thick amount of stubble, not because he couldn't grow a full mustache, but because he preffered leaving it like that because, as he put it 'peachfuzz had a more rugged air of manliness about it'. The bottom of his chin bore a goatee of a much lighter blonde then the hair atop his head, which was such a dirty blonde that it looked brown, but the blonde color shone through in certain lighting. His body appeared to poses merley the average strength, but thanks to his "special talents", his strength was far more than enough to shatter hardened cement. The attire he most commonly wore was a black T-shirt under a black sip-up hooded sweatshirt with grey around the chest of his torso, and grey camofluage jeans.
Tonight, on this moonlit night in New York city, he stood atop a rooftop peering into the skylight, watching the three men sitting around a circular table, playing poker, and having a good laugh about something. Morita guessed that it was an anec-dote about a chinese man, a jewish man and a nake preist that the man he had been hired to 'take care of' (Joeseph "Joey Sack-It" Parks) had told. The man to the right of the target then checked his watch and noticed the time, and ran out. Now, Morita thought, the left man was all that stood between him and an easy payoff. A familliar light-headedness told him that bordom had hit again and was about to manifest itself in a manner that would be very bad for the succsess of his job, so he was lucky when he noticed the man on the left say something to Joey that, to Morita, had he lipread correctly, was "I'm gonna get another beer. You want one?", got up, and walked out of the room.
"Alright, Here we go." Morita mumbled to himself as he stood up, lifted the bottom of the back of his sweater and pulled two mettalic bladeless hilts from a two slotted sheathe that he rigged into the seat of the pants he wore whenever he had a job requested of him that required violence.
Joey heard a noise above him of breaking glass and looked up, to see an assailent coming from above, who landed atop the table, pressed a button on each of the mettalic hilts he held, causing two grey plasma-based energy katana blades to shoot from the tops of them, and he then sprang up twisting rapidly and jumping at him. It happened so fast that Joey's face had been slashed across his chin, nose and forehead and he had fallen to floor, clutching it in pain before he realized what was happening.
He swore loudly, then pulled a plasma pistol out of a holster in his right pocket and fired three shots at the assailent, who jumped away from the first bullet so fast it barley lookd like he had vanishes into think air. Joey saw that his attacker had run up behind him, had deactivated and re-shetathed the right saber and was about to sink the left into his face. He rolled as fast as he could to the right almost immediately preceding the blade being jabbed into the floor, aimed a shot wildly at his opponent, hastily got up and started running away quickly. Morita pulled a plasma pistol of his own out and fired a shot at Joey's thigh which landed perfectly in the exact spot Morita had aimed. The mobster momentarily collapsed on the floor and immediatly out of fear jumped back up and tried to run out the door, but his plan had been foiled almost as instantly as it came to him when Morita stabbed the lock panel the only exit's lock panel, causing the door to slam shut and lock. "Tell Hitler, Sadam and Binn Ladden I said hi when you get to hell" Morita chuckled in a way that was his impression of a psychopath as he lifted Joey by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the shut window. It shattered, and Joey felt an extreme amount of excurciating pain course through his entire body. He thought that if he could land on the sidewalk, he might be able to live for a few more minutes, and curse whatever family name the son of a bitch who was about to finish him went by, but unfortunately for him, he landed face down on the windshield of his car. The glass there, also, had shattered, and he had bled what little blood he hadn't just urinated out in fear out of him, and almost immediately died.
Back in the room, Morita had replaced his saber and blaster, pulled out an earphone and placed it in his ear. He pressed the only button on it and uttered a voice command in his psychopathic vocie "Speed-dial, regular client one" and waited a minute or so for his employer to answer. When someone finally did answer, the voice was deep and black. "Hello?"
"Bull!" Morita exclaimed in response "It's Kazuma. Listen, I just finished up that job you wanted done."
"Are you sure Sack-it's dead?"
"Hang on, I'll check." And at that, Morita hopped gracefully out of the window, not once coming close to even a shard of broken glass, and lifted up the corpse of his target's head to ensure he was no longer alive. The face had borken glass jammed inbetween his eyes, multiple places on his forehead and even in his left temple.
"If he ain't dead yet, just passed out, then he will be in a matter of seconds." Morita answered.
"Good. Any witnesses?"
"Well in a minute or so his buddy'll come back to a locked door with a couple'a beers and when he gets through it, he's gonna find the corpse. Does that count?"
"No. Alright then Kazuma, your jobs done. I'll transfer those credits to you now, and remember, mums the word. We can't let the people know that the police have been reduced to hiring bounty hunters to get rid of crooks who cover their tracks."
"Mum's the word, got it."
And at that, Morita hung up, replaced the earphone, checked his watch to see that it was half past eleven and muttered to himself, "Well, I got abut half an hour 'till it's Sunday and those stupid bartenders deny me drinks 'till two P.M., might aswell go get wasted to celebrate now, then confession then turn in for the night.", and strolled off into the night.<b>
-Chapter one-
"Many thousands of years ago, a terrible nuclear eruppted, engulfing all countries in violence, famine, hatred, and death. This war raged for decades, using up the Earth's resources at an alarming rate, until the final atomic bomb was set off, and when the dust cleared, there wasn't a single person left who had the energy to continue fighting. With everyone tired, hungry and battered and the planet's supply of resources run dry, all of it's inhabitants had completly given up hope. Then, a race of aliens from a distant planet, hiding in the moon, took pity on the simple race they had been watching for so long, and helped the humans rebuild and reinvent their societies, culture, even their lives. The people of earth, in light of the events, moved from the year count of A.D. to Post Apocalypse. Now, two thousand and seventeen years later, this is the story of one person, who will change the world. God, Morita, you have GOT to stop talking to yourself. Especially when you're on a job."
Morita Kazuma, age twenty four, was by no means an extremly handsome man, but he certainly was a vain one. His skin was fairly pale for someone who worked outside as often as he did, but then again, most of the outdoors work he did was done at night. His hairstyle had five mainly diagonal upward points along the front, but other then that it was thick, flat and plain. His upper lip bore a fairly thick amount of stubble, not because he couldn't grow a full mustache, but because he preffered leaving it like that because, as he put it 'peachfuzz had a more rugged air of manliness about it'. The bottom of his chin bore a goatee of a much lighter blonde then the hair atop his head, which was such a dirty blonde that it looked brown, but the blonde color shone through in certain lighting. His body appeared to poses merley the average strength, but thanks to his "special talents", his strength was far more than enough to shatter hardened cement. The attire he most commonly wore was a black T-shirt under a black sip-up hooded sweatshirt with grey around the chest of his torso, and grey camofluage jeans.
Tonight, on this moonlit night in New York city, he stood atop a rooftop peering into the skylight, watching the three men sitting around a circular table, playing poker, and having a good laugh about something. Morita guessed that it was an anec-dote about a chinese man, a jewish man and a nake preist that the man he had been hired to 'take care of' (Joeseph "Joey Sack-It" Parks) had told. The man to the right of the target then checked his watch and noticed the time, and ran out. Now, Morita thought, the left man was all that stood between him and an easy payoff. A familliar light-headedness told him that bordom had hit again and was about to manifest itself in a manner that would be very bad for the succsess of his job, so he was lucky when he noticed the man on the left say something to Joey that, to Morita, had he lipread correctly, was "I'm gonna get another beer. You want one?", got up, and walked out of the room.
"Alright, Here we go." Morita mumbled to himself as he stood up, lifted the bottom of the back of his sweater and pulled two mettalic bladeless hilts from a two slotted sheathe that he rigged into the seat of the pants he wore whenever he had a job requested of him that required violence.
Joey heard a noise above him of breaking glass and looked up, to see an assailent coming from above, who landed atop the table, pressed a button on each of the mettalic hilts he held, causing two grey plasma-based energy katana blades to shoot from the tops of them, and he then sprang up twisting rapidly and jumping at him. It happened so fast that Joey's face had been slashed across his chin, nose and forehead and he had fallen to floor, clutching it in pain before he realized what was happening.
He swore loudly, then pulled a plasma pistol out of a holster in his right pocket and fired three shots at the assailent, who jumped away from the first bullet so fast it barley lookd like he had vanishes into think air. Joey saw that his attacker had run up behind him, had deactivated and re-shetathed the right saber and was about to sink the left into his face. He rolled as fast as he could to the right almost immediately preceding the blade being jabbed into the floor, aimed a shot wildly at his opponent, hastily got up and started running away quickly. Morita pulled a plasma pistol of his own out and fired a shot at Joey's thigh which landed perfectly in the exact spot Morita had aimed. The mobster momentarily collapsed on the floor and immediatly out of fear jumped back up and tried to run out the door, but his plan had been foiled almost as instantly as it came to him when Morita stabbed the lock panel the only exit's lock panel, causing the door to slam shut and lock. "Tell Hitler, Sadam and Binn Ladden I said hi when you get to hell" Morita chuckled in a way that was his impression of a psychopath as he lifted Joey by the collar of his shirt and threw him out the shut window. It shattered, and Joey felt an extreme amount of excurciating pain course through his entire body. He thought that if he could land on the sidewalk, he might be able to live for a few more minutes, and curse whatever family name the son of a bitch who was about to finish him went by, but unfortunately for him, he landed face down on the windshield of his car. The glass there, also, had shattered, and he had bled what little blood he hadn't just urinated out in fear out of him, and almost immediately died.
Back in the room, Morita had replaced his saber and blaster, pulled out an earphone and placed it in his ear. He pressed the only button on it and uttered a voice command in his psychopathic vocie "Speed-dial, regular client one" and waited a minute or so for his employer to answer. When someone finally did answer, the voice was deep and black. "Hello?"
"Bull!" Morita exclaimed in response "It's Kazuma. Listen, I just finished up that job you wanted done."
"Are you sure Sack-it's dead?"
"Hang on, I'll check." And at that, Morita hopped gracefully out of the window, not once coming close to even a shard of broken glass, and lifted up the corpse of his target's head to ensure he was no longer alive. The face had borken glass jammed inbetween his eyes, multiple places on his forehead and even in his left temple.
"If he ain't dead yet, just passed out, then he will be in a matter of seconds." Morita answered.
"Good. Any witnesses?"
"Well in a minute or so his buddy'll come back to a locked door with a couple'a beers and when he gets through it, he's gonna find the corpse. Does that count?"
"No. Alright then Kazuma, your jobs done. I'll transfer those credits to you now, and remember, mums the word. We can't let the people know that the police have been reduced to hiring bounty hunters to get rid of crooks who cover their tracks."
"Mum's the word, got it."
And at that, Morita hung up, replaced the earphone, checked his watch to see that it was half past eleven and muttered to himself, "Well, I got abut half an hour 'till it's Sunday and those stupid bartenders deny me drinks 'till two P.M., might aswell go get wasted to celebrate now, then confession then turn in for the night.", and strolled off into the night.<b>
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The sun shining overhead seemed too bright, too cheerful, for the dark days the kingdom had faced. Standing here before her uncle's grave, she played over and over in her mind that fateful battle that had changed everything. If Greil had survived, how different would things be…? Would all this madness have been averted with Aremas having an old friend as a voice of reason? Could Greil have prevented the decline into near-civil war in Hyrule?
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Enter, Morita Kazuma, main character. Just a bit of violence to kick things off. Don't think Morita will be a serious character though. Next chapter I'm introducing a straight (no, Morita's not gay. You'll see when he greets said staright man that he can't possibly be gay.) man to play him off next chapter, so expect him to be quite zany.
© 2007 - 2024 Miguel-the-perv-king
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About time... Very nice, but mobsters? Couldn't have used something more recent, like drug lords? Okay, roughly the same thing, but drug lord sounds more hatable....Is that even a word?