fripSide - Alice in Rosso
- svines85 likes this
Posted by Viscoun on 13 April 2016 - 08:17 AM
forgot about this thread for a while, but this is a pic i did of the (100% patriotically) anthropomorphized USS Iowa from the game Kancolle Kai.
it took a while, given i hadn't drawn for half a year, but i guess it works out somewhat.
Posted by Viscoun on 09 February 2016 - 07:08 AM
Symphony X - Sea of Lies
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1T7WGasjju0
Posted by Viscoun on 04 February 2016 - 10:02 PM
Symphony X - Iconoclast
Rise of the One, the dark iconoclast,
Forging a cult of fear with legions unsurpassed.
Shouting the word with vicious tongues of fire,
Born of illusion and deceit, fiendish soul of a liar!
The chaos unseen… rips the midnight sky.
Infernal machines arise… flesh and steel collide!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
With rage, we ride into the flames,
Striking with spears of hate at the heart where evil reigns.
Holding the line from the charge of armored steeds,
Gather around this deadly ground, come watch the war god bleed!
The chaos unseen… rips the midnight sky.
Infernal machines arise… flesh and steel collide!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
Victory or death, only time will tell,
Synthetic resurrection from the heart of hell.
Slowly they fall, as we watch the daylight die,
We spit and curse this hallowed earth with our final battle cry!
The chaos unseen… rips the midnight sky.
Infernal machines arise… flesh and steel collide!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
We are strong! We will stand and fight!
Posted by Viscoun on 31 January 2016 - 12:58 AM
This is an absolutely beautiful piece of work; and I can easily tell that from just the prologue alone. It's people like you that I aspire to be; I am in the process of writing a 20,000-word novel at the moment, but am having trouble finding the time to continue and complete it.
i appreciate your words, they inspire me to continue writing as well. i also have trouble writing for relatively longer periods of time - i can sit down and perhaps write a paragraph or so in a burst of creativity, but to write longer requires some serious boredom (the last time i wrote more than a page of creative writing was on a 16-hour plane ride back to the US).
if you do ever finish snippets of your novel, feel free to post them on this forum. i'm sure many of the readers here would like to see it.
here is chapter 1, continuing on from my previous post.
1
2074
IS Academy, Japan
The science behind the Stratos engine is as arbitrary as it is complicated. Its most prominent defining feature is also its most controversial. That feature is the one that has finally allowed one gender to maintain the dominance over the other that it had inherently desired for so long. And anyone who even knows what a Stratos is will be able to tell you what it is.
It is the fact that only a person of the female sex can pilot a Stratos.
Having stopped short of asking Shinonono herself, who is exceedingly hard to catch and even harder to interrogate, various people have put forward theories as to why this is the case. Perhaps the biotechnology in the engine only responds to higher estrogen levels in the bloodstream. Perhaps the implants played some role in the selection process, although with various upgrades the implants had long since been rendered defunct – only Shinonono and the earliest testers of the engine had had those installed into their cranial lobes. Perhaps Shinonono had had some other purpose in mind for the Stratos.
Whichever was the case, women now dominated society, and now had vast control of the military, amongst other departments of human government. Men remained the simple foot soldiers they had always been, and now had to watch as their female counterparts coursed the sky, on wings that showed the most extreme discrimination to people of the “wrong” gender.
An academy, one of approximately high-school level, was set up in Japan, the home of the Stratos’ inventor, and was due to begin accepting students by the start of the following year. People from various organizations across the world, governmental or otherwise, sent their best young female talents to Japan, in the hopes of having them represent their country as future super-soldiers, leaders, pioneers, and ultimately defenders of their respective nations.
But several years into the program, a discovery was made, one that rocked the foundations of the new female-dominated world. It was the appearance of a male, a young boy, who could operate the Stratos. Everything people had thought about the Stratos was turned on its head, and the boy was immediately enlisted into the Stratos program once he had reached the right age.
A boy in a high school filled with nothing but girls. The thinking went that little could go wrong, but save for the boy’s innocence, perhaps there was more at stake than there seemed to be. Perhaps more lay beneath the academy’s supposed proclamation of peace between nations, now that the Stratos was no longer a reason for one gender to feel privileged over its opposite.
Either way, little mattered to the boy in question, who graduated with flying colors, and emerged on graduation day as valedictorian of his year, three ladies on each arm as he spoke to those gathered to celebrate his achievements, his obvious oblivion to their attraction a small distraction for the women, and a source of great disappointment for the men. However, on such a momentous day, only a select few really were present to witness his launch into a completely female dominion.
One of those present during the graduation ceremony was a certain Generalleutnant of the German Heer’s Panzerdivision, Lieutenant General Senna Holdt. With full colors emblazoned she stood on the stage, watching the backs of the new graduates as they lined up to receive their certificates, confirming them as another generation of the world’s first super-soldiers.
She felt a poke on her elbow, and turned to see a face grinning at her.
“They make it look so easy now, don’t day? Swanky academy, certificates, and all that.”
“All part of the process, Nadia.” Holdt glanced at the end of the line, far behind the almost endless rows of seats arranged underneath the crystalline sky. The outdoor auditorium was packed full with a variety of people, all of whom being of invariably great importance to their countries. “You know how much bullshit we had to crawl through for this to even have the slightest chance of coming to life.”
“I remember.” The South African Armored Corps Brigadier General allowed herself a small sigh. “The Foundation really did us in back then. I still don’t really know if Shinonono knows what she’s looking for with this… academy.”
“You know her.” Nearby, a petite Japanese woman, a small pink flower in her hair, three rows of spanking new medals on her chest, chipped in. “Tabane is a klutz, but not stupid. I have faith.”
“Of course you’d know that. You’ve been stuck with her so long, you probably know her better than she knows herself.”
Mikono chuckled. “Her mind is like an endless labyrinth being viewed from above. You can see everything, sure – in fact, she lays it bare for everyone to see. But you’d still never find your way to the center.”
“I missed your analogies, Mikono.” The fourth member of the crew clapped the fifth on the shoulder. “I’m betting Jade did, too.”
Jade looked away. Fiorence laughed.
“Jade never did appreciate your brand of humor, did she? Wrong side of America and all.” The last of the graduates left the stage, and Holdt, along with the rest of the audience, clapped in anticipation for the final farewell. She straightened up, and at the corner of her eye, saw the others around her do the same.
Two on her left, two on her right. The whole squad was back, and that made her feel immensely better. She’d fought with them, almost died with them, and had spent the better part of a decade getting to know them. The fact that they were all still here was a testament to their grit, and to the miracle – “gift or curse” question notwithstanding – that the Stratos had bestowed upon the world.
I can only hope, Holdt mused, that with everything we’ve had to do, these kids won’t have to go through the same stuff we did.
Twenty planes soared overhead, each with the color of the flags borne by the major signatories of the Alaska Treaty ten years prior – perhaps the only part of their work that the world had truly acknowledged.
With a final smattering of fanfare and applause, the graduation party dispersed, and Holdt made her way over to the star of the day.
“Hey, kid,” she said, slapping Orimura on the back. Orimura stumbled and turned, utterly bemused. “Mind if I borrow your girlfriend for a bit?”
Orimura looked at the six girls around him. Holdt sighed.
“The grey haired one. C’mere, Laura. We’re here to take you home.”
Laura Bodewig, the academy’s German national representative, glanced at Orimura, evidently reluctant to leave his side. Orimura gave her one of his trademark smiles, so cheerful and yet so heart-wrenchingly dense, and nodded. Laura nodded back, and gave him a crisp salute before turning away.
“How’d you find the school?”
They stopped at an intersection, and waited for the lights to switch. The airport was only half an hour away, but Holdt had insisted on the drive. The Japanese metro had always been a mystery to her, though she knew Laura had probably been taken on several trips during her three-year tenure at the school.
“It was alright. Clara helped me out a little early on. And Ichika was… well, it’s not like he really helped me out. He couldn’t, really. But he was there.”
Holdt couldn’t believe her ears. “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say about any man.”
Laura’s cheeks burned visibly under the mid-afternoon sun. “I’m just saying! He was nice to me!” Her eyes fell. “I’d like to keep seeing him.”
“You still have those other five girls to worry about. You should just find yourself a German stud, there’ll be plenty who---“
“No!” Holdt stopped short, and glanced quizzically at Laura. Laura’s hand flew to her mouth. “I… I mean… no. There’s no one else that… I mean… I don’t think there would be…”
“Well, don’t worry about it.” The green traffic light flicked on, and Holdt brought the car tearing forward. Not that she was in any particular hurry, but it wouldn’t be nice to keep the pilot waiting. “Once we get back to Germany, there’ll be other things to get concerned over. Advanced training, stationing, and playing catch-up with the Heer.”
Disappointment returned to Laura’s features. “So I’d probably never come back?”
“Who knows? Maybe you could request a transfer to Japan. Or even become an instructor when you’re older. Just like your beloved Orimura’s elder sister.”
Holdt’s charge stiffened. “I wouldn’t seek to emulate her. Not her, at least.”
“That’s all fair and good. But get through training first. Then we’ll talk about where we can get you.”
The plane was the only craft in the vicinity. The rest of the airport was an empty, vast space, with nothing but a carrier truck packing the last of the German representatives’ luggage onto the aircraft. A soft wind blew across the expanse, and Holdt took the chance to have her last breath of Japanese air for a long, long while. She’d miss the place. It was like an Asian twist on Germany.
The interior of the plane was as swanky as they came, red velvet lining the floor, beige leather sofas sitting in twos, with tables in between each pair. Perfect for a chat over a drink. Or even a game or two of chess.
As the plane began its slow trek back to Berlin, Holdt moved the first piece forward, and leaned back, taking a sip from her whisky. Cold like the bottom of the ocean, and just about as refreshing. Which was not to say much about German whisky at all.
“Have you ever thought about working outside of Stratos, Laura?”
Laura’s hand stopped, and the black knight hovered over the board. “Not in particular. I always thought I’d be here for as long as I was needed.” The piece was brought down with a little more force than expected.
“I’m just asking. In truth, there’s no one else I’d rather be leaving the Schwarzer Regen with.” The Black Rabbit, Laura’s Stratos, was the strongest version of the mech that the Germans had on offer. And not only because it boasted vastly superior weaponry to, say, the French Rafale Revive Mk II. Holdt glanced at the black eye-patch barely covered by the streak of grey hair across Laura’s forehead. “Not that, you know, we could really change that now.”
Laura lifted a finger to her eye-patch, feeling the rough surface, the etchings, and the simplicity of the veil that masked the true depth of German technology situated in Laura’s left eye. “What would happen if, hypothetically speaking, I were to relinquish control of the Regen?”
“Let’s just say that your eye-patch isn’t going anywhere soon.” Holdt pushed a pawn forward. “You were selected for this program because of your talent in utilizing this technology. Talent, potential, these kinds of things don’t just go away. We committed, you committed, and that’s where things stand.”
“I understand.” The black rook shifted into the gap opened by the white bishop’s untimely departure. Check.
“Has Orimura been teaching you chess or what?” Holdt stared at the board, searching for a solution. None were to be found. “Or do they still play shogi over there?”
“It pains me to admit this, but Cecilia Alcott treated me with a few tips.” Laura’s eyebrows creased. “Not without a little initial consternation on my part, of course. I’d always thought I was proficient at the game.”
“Well, whatever you thought you were, you are what you think you are now. Same goes with chess as with everything else.” Holdt moved the king to the side in resignation. In one fell swoop, the queen was deposed from her place on the throne. The white king soon followed.
“What do you mean by that?” Laura allowed herself a small smile at the victory. It had been Holdt who had introduced her to chess, when she had still been a green in the army. How the mighty had fallen, it seemed.
“Well, for starters…” Holdt swept the pieces into a little wooden box hanging off the edge of the table. The board, being part of the table itself, could not be similarly disposed of. “Who do you think you are?”
“What do I think I am?”
“Well, whatever and whoever.”
“A soldier.” Laura paused. “A Stratos pilot-in-training. An engineer.”
“Anything else?” Holdt pressed.
Laura thought for a moment. “No.”
“Not even, say… a young girl? Just a young person? Any young person?”
The same finger came to Laura’s eye-patch again. “It might be arrogant to say this, but no. Not just any youth.”
“There is no arrogance in knowing that. It’s the truth. But,” Holdt held up a finger, “you must consider what you think of yourself, not just what the Heer demands of you. When you showed your affection to Orimura – don’t deny it, Laura,” Holdt added as Laura prepared to interject, “did you do so as merely a soldier who saw use and meaning in associating with a fellow Stratos pilot? Or did you truly like him, from the bottom of your heart? Forget what that eye-patch makes you. A soldier fights for the people that they want to protect. They go to war to die for these people, admittedly whether they want to or not. All the more reason that a soldier should be able to show love without fear of any consequence.”
“How about you then, Lieutenant General?” Laura returned, with a little defiance. “Have you ever fallen in love?”
“Not in the way you have.” Holdt gazed out of the window as the last of Japan disappeared into the clouds. “But I have lost people I cared deeply for.”
“I’m sorry.”
That was surprising. From a person with a stoic exterior like Laura’s, at the very least, it was. “No, don’t be. I believe that since I was able to live through such experiences, I should be able to tell people about these kinds of things. Of course, not to offend, but you have it a little easier. The Alaska Treaty changed a lot.”
“I hear you had a part to play in the establishment of that treaty, Lieutenant General. Is that true?”
“Well.” Holdt’s mind drifted back to a time, almost twenty years prior, when the world was a much more volatile place. Before the IS Academy, the Treaty. Holdt looked back at her protégé, expectant, stolid, and so precocious, yet still so unbelievably young, and still blissfully unaware.
“I suppose it is.”
Community Forum Software by IP.Board
Licensed to: Vatoto!