Wednesday, May 5, 2004

   Another one?
Yeah, I take another AP test tomorrow. English lit, to be exact. Ah, well.

It was Ernesto's birthday on Tuesday, so this morning I gave him his gift, a book of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Quotations. Good stuff. Wer'e going to see Van Hellsing this weekend.

However, before that, I'll have gone to a Yu-Gi-Oh tournament at Toys R Us. With my Demon deck, I feel pretty confident. I wanna' trade my Dark Master Zorc for a Dark Necrofear, because Dark Necrofear pwns.

After all that, I go home because it's my Mom's birthday. ^^; Busy weekend.

For anyone who saw Smallville tonight, you'll know what I'm talking about when I say that Lex's last line was cool. ^__^

Anyway, knew theme tonight. It's Shaman King, because I finally found the background I was looking for. Yay.

Thought of the moment: After tomorrow, only four tests left....

Quote of the moment: "Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines." - Anonymous

Sol

X

Tybalt stumbled through the shadows, his chest still burning from the Sol system’s blast. He hadn’t had any time to prepare himself for the impact, and being tossed through a window like a common street brawler not only hurt his pride, but also disoriented him greatly. He would, he knew, have to get back to where he had hidden his ship, but he doubted he was in a condition to glide there.

He stopped and observed himself in a small window. Closing his eyes, he felt his features rearrange in response to his thoughts. His wings completely retracted into his back, and his tail was sucked back into his body like a slurped noodle. When he opened his eyes again, he was a defenseless-looking middle-aged human male. Granted, he still had no shirt, and his injuries still hurt, but at least he wasn’t instantly noticeable as an out-of-towner.

He continued his trek through the streets, soon coming across a young man in a hooded sweatshirt. Tybalt had never seen him before, so he had no way to recognize him as Tyler Stevens. Stevens had ditched his drinking buddies after Brooks’ ignoble thrashing at Simon’s hands, and, still slightly drunk, was looking for a little “fun” of a less-than-legal nature.

Tyler could never tell his friends about his extra-curricular activities, especially not Brooks. Tyler couldn’t tell his friends lots of things, like who it was who trashed Brooks car with a crowbar last spring, or who lit the school’s auditorium on fire. Tyler was a very angry young man, with very violent tendencies, tendencies he kept hidden from most of the world. The most interesting aspect of this character was an unspoken resentment of those around him; being forced to keep his rage inside allowed it to fester, so whenever it surfaced, the results were very unfortunate.

Tybalt knew none of this, and thought he could simply pass the young human male with no trouble. That was not to be.

“What happened to your shirt, pops?” Stevens asked nastily.

“I lost it,” Tybalt said simply, trying to pass. Stevens stepped in his way.

“Well, ain’t that too bad? Get ready to loose something else!” Stevens pulled a knife out of his sweatshirt. “Give me your wallet, or I’ll slice you like an onion!”

“I have no wallet. Do not try me, delinquent,” Tybalt said, once again simply. “You can leave right now; I won’t stop you.”

“Maybe you don’t get what’s going on, gramps,” Stevens sneered. “If I don’t get any money, I at least get a good time!” He lunged towards Tybalt’s chest.

Tybalt sighed as he grabbed Stevens’ wrist. The knife stopped centimeters from Tybalt’s chest. Still holding his assailant’s wrist, Tybalt tossed him over his shoulders. Tyler landed with a small thud a few yards away.

“You bastard!” Stevens swore as he charged Tybalt’s back. Tybalt turned around swiftly and kicked the mugger upside the head. His heel connected with Stevens’ right temple, effectively ending any chance of a continued assault. Stevens fell to the ground, unconscious.

Deciding that there might be dangers in continuing in easy view of the public, Tybalt began to move among the shadows again. Against his better judgment, he crawled up a ladder leading to the top of a two-story building. He hopped among the rooftops for about five minutes, until he startled a flock of pigeons. They flew towards him, preventing him from landing on the next rooftop.

Making a quick correction to his course, Tybalt positioned himself to land on a Terran watercraft parked in front of a small building. However, one final bird hit him square in the face; his missed the boat by inches and landed on the grass with an unceremonious thump.

This is a tad bit humiliating, he thought. Suddenly, a door opened from the building in front of him. A young human female came out. “What’s that sound? I- Oh, my! Sir, are you okay?”

Tybalt decided to tell half the truth, anyway. “I…I was mugged…I’m not sure where I am…”

“Oh, come with me, sir. I’ll get you fixed up. Let’s go inside.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said, getting to his feet and allowing her to lead him inside.

She set him down and got
him a blanket and some water. “You’re very kind,” Tybalt commented, earnestly. She was the nicest human he’d met yet. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, it’s Susan,” she said, getting him some
soup. “Susan Hawkins. Here.” She handed him a cup of soup. “This is supposed to be for the residents of the shelter, but we can spare a little.”

“Thank you,” he said, sipping the soup. He really had to leave, but first he would finish his soup. He examined the girl, and a new thought occurred to him: she was about the same age as the human male who hosted the Sol system. What was his name…Simon, that was it.

“Tell me,” he said. “Where’s the nearest school?”

Susan looked puzzled by the question. “Uh, well, the high school I attended is across town, you know, Washington High. The nearest elementary school is…”

“I must go,” Tybalt said, standing quickly. “I thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait, are you sure? I can call a cab…it’s not safe…”

“I’ll be fine.” He went out the door quickly, and by the time Susan got through the door, he was gone.

“Weird…” she muttered, closing the door.

**
What a charming human, Tybalt thought as he arrived to the scrap yard he’d hidden his ship in. It’s always nice to deal with a being that doesn’t want to fight you or take something from you.

He lifted aside a dismantled Chevy to reveal his ship. It was completely covered with other vehicles in various stages of deterioration. Should it be discovered, it was programmed to automatically fly itself to a secondary location. Tybalt felt secure.

Entering the ship, he let his features return to normal. Towards the rear of the small ship was a nutrient bath. He took off his clothes and lowered himself inside, allowing the chemicals to flow over him and speed the healing of his wounds.

He pressed a small button on the side of the bath, and a potable computer consol was released from the ceiling within his reach. Sighing, he began to type in his report, which was instantly transmitted to his father, untold parsecs away.

So you didn’t retrieve the Sol system yet? The reply came back.

“No, father,” Tybalt said as he typed. “There were unexpected difficulties. It bonded to a native of the planet.”

You’ll have to kill him, then.

“I know, Sir. However, it may take time. I only have one bit of information on how to find him; I might know where he attends school. I’ll have to investigate, of course.”

How hard could it be to find him? How many inhabitants are there on this planet?

“At least six billion.”

And they’re standard humanoids?

“Yes. Class Beta-type humanoids.”

There was a delay on the line, as though his father was pondering something. Finally: You know, adding a planet of six billion Beta-humanoids to my empire would give me enough power to crush the military forces poised against me.

This got Tybalt’s attention. “Father, unless something has changed drastically since I left, we don’t have the resources to defend the current assault on our home base and conquer a new planet.”

I don’t plan to defend this base any longer. I believe now is the best time to relocate. This Earth-planet would be the perfect base of my Empire, especially with six billion new slaves. I’m going to ready the fleet to move out.

“What shall I do?”

Study the planet; learn more about it. I’m putting the retrieval of the Sol system as a secondary objective. After all, once I control the planet, I can find the scuzball at my leisure. Do you understand?

“Yes, sir. Tybalt, signing out.”

Tybalt sunk deeper into the nutrient bath and mused thoughtfully.
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