Conflict (Cont 5)

As Andrew pushed the door forward the sound of the Professor's lecture began to pour out into the hallway.

"... it, which is excatly the kind of thing that I'm looking for. Now, people have, for thousands of years, continued these traditions with-"

As Andrew finished pulling the door open, it's hindges chose to betray them, giving a horrible screech that filled the classroom. The Professor, mid-sentance stopped and looked directly across the room, right at him. Jason gave a small wave while Andrew simply lowered his head shamefully. Karim peered at them through intense eyes, and gave his small moustache a quick rub, a habitual gesture.

"Ahhh, thank you gentlemen, for deciding to join us. I trust you are both aware that my class still begins at 1:30?"

"Yes."

"Well then, provided that you don't have a good excuse, then the two of you have just volenteered for the presentations on Wednesday, as we have already completed the sign up. Now, please take your seats."

Andrew felt like slapping himself. The class had been working towards a few weeks of presentations, where each class member would spend half a class breaking down a myth archetype. He had really been falling behind, and hoped to sign up for later, as he hadn't done any work at all on the project, other then bitching about it to anyone who would listen. It was Monday, and trying to get the project done would require an obcene ammount of work in a very short time. He couldn't help but give Jason a bit of a scowl, although he realized that they probably would have been late anyway. The rest of the lecture was spent thusly, brooding over the situation. There was nothing for it, except to somehow find the time for it. Wasn't he done with this kind of crap in highschool? Jason's calmness agitated Andrew even more, as he sat leaning back, casually doodling along the margins of his notes, as per usual. Andrew suddenly realized that he hadn't been listening to the last 5 minutes of lecture. That's when he looked up.

A girl ran screaming into the room.

Conflict (Cont 4)

As Andrew turned the corner around the divider, he did not find any porn, but did see the expected sight of Jason peering over Eliza's shoulder as she dutifully typed away. Something about multi-national corperations... Andrew couldn't read too much of it. His past expirience with blackout had given him more then enough of his share of social conciousness, thank-you-very-much, and the whole thing had started to just blur together in his head. Eliza paused, peeked over her shoulder and gave a quick nod.

"Hey Drew."

"Liza."

Andrew quickly grabbed Jason's shoulder and began to pull him towards the exit.

"Come on, we are really going to be late if we don't get out of here!"

"Oh, come on. Can't we be a little late? We're witnessing history here my friend, this is the woman that is going to change the world!"

Andrew sighed. "This is all interesting and everything Jason, but if we walk into that damn seminar late again, Dhaliwal is going to flip out."

Eliza stopped typing again and swiveled her chair around. "Are you guys still getting that poor teacher pissed off?"

Jason gave her a light pat on the shoulder. "Eliza, it's not my fault if that man doesn't understand that University is not about education: It's about meeting the people you will use to network for the rest of your life!"

She looked up at him, brushing off his hand. "Good lord, tell me you just didn't say that"

Andrew grabbed Jason again and pulled even harder. "Ignore this idiot. He's got some weird plan that he won't tell me anything about and if you let him he'll drop little "teaser" hints all day in hopes that you're even a little bit interested."

Eliza nodded, then pointed at her watch. "I'm sure. In any case, shouldn't you two be off now? I can't get any work done with you hanging out anyway."

Andrew pulled again "Come on Jason, leave the poor woman alone. I sure she's had enough of your 'help'. Besides, we have work of our own to do."

Eliza smiled and gave Andrew a quick wink. "Yeah, well you boys try not to work too hard now. Oh, and before I forget, Andrew, I sent you an e-mail. Check it out and get back to me, okay?"

"Will do. Will do."

Jason gave a deep bow. "Always a pleasure, my lady"

"Yeah, yeah, get the hell out of here!"

Karim Dhaliwal taught a seminar course called: "Man and Mythology". Andrew, who had enjoyed Greek Mythology in highschool decided that it might be a fun elective. Jason claimed the same, although Andrew suspected that having somone whom he could easily get class notes off of probably had something to do with it as well. Neither plan ended up working out: Man and Mythology, Profssor Dhaliwal took great pains to explain, was not about actual "popular myth", but the achetypes that were present in all great stories. A long disscussion about Star Wars had kept the pair in the class, and by the time they noticed that they were in over thier heads, the withdrawl date had passed.

The Professor was prone to go off on long tangents as well, which due to both their usual irreverence and his rather thick indian accent made the class sometimes less then desirable. Was it any surprise then, that the pair occationally missed a class or two? Sadly, unlike some professors, Dhaliwal took great offence at that, and so Andrew and Jason had found themselves at the wrong end of more then a few dressing downs that would have put the most hard-core drill sargent to shame.

Andrew hurried Jason along, up the downtown streets, throught the throngs of University students coming and going with the last class change. The downtown campus was small, at least in square footage, but had been given addition after addition, which had turned a once simple college into a thriving University with a mish-mash of acheitechture creating a maze of corridors and stair caises which did quick work of intimitading any newcomers. Having been at the school for 4 years, Andrew and Jason were beyond that point, but even still could not avoid the various gridlock of stumbling students on the main channels through the escalators. Instead, they would have to make thier way up 5 flights of stairs, and then to the other side of the main building before reaching thier class. Time was ticking.

Andrew had bumped a little too hard into no less then 5 people when they finally arrived at the classroom door, which was closed. This was a bad sign: Professor Dhaliwal made a point to close his doors once the class begun, and on more then one occation locked them in order to make his point. Fortunetly, this time they were not, and Andrew motioned for Jason to be silent as they continued onward.

Conflict (Cont 3)

Anthony moved as if to say something, and then thought better of it. This was an old fight and one not likely to end anytime soon. He glanced down and found his page again. He looked up, thumbed his nose almost unconsciously, and then sighed.

“You know where he is”

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it.”

Andrew did know, as a matter of fact. This was not the first time Jason had disappeared on him, nor would it be the last. The Dragon’s Den had originally taken up just one space in the strip complex that it was located into. As business was driven out of the city center and the arcade prospered, it slowly began to take over the neighboring spaces. At this point, business was not great, and large sections of the arcade were sectioned off since the owner couldn’t afford to fill it with games. Some of the sections were being used by a few groups: A dungeons and dragons game was apparently played pretty regularly, and the space had been rented a few times to host local area network (LAN) parties. Andrew had once attended one, but the smell of 20 guys with 20 computers getting agitated while virtually killing one another was something he did not envision wanting to experience again. Other sections had become permanent headquarters for some small organizations: An anime club had a small section where they kept their video library, a few local artists used another section to showcase some of their work. Finally, there was Eliza.

Eliza had gone to school with Andrew, and they had shared the same group of friends, albeit on different sides. She was a quiet girl, and Andrew really didn’t know much about her during that time. When they graduated, Andrew spent a year with his father in Indiana, while she apparently went to tour Europe. When they returned home and went to University they naturally gravitated towards each other in their classes, as most of their friends were now a year ahead or had begun full time jobs. Andrew had once called it the summer of great change: Both of their time away had changed them, him getting the shorter end of the stick.

While Indiana just frustrated Andrew, cemented his dislike for both southern hicks and his father, Eliza had used her time away to remake herself. Her ears now had several piercings, along with one in her nose and navel (one for each country she visited) and her formerly plain, long hair had been chopped down to a short do, which featured regularly changing colored highlights. Whereas Andrew had gained a bit of a paunch from 12 months of fast food and bad cooking, Eliza had become quite fit, now a regular hiker.
Andrew got a bad haircut, which went away, and a long scar, which while luckily hid mostly by his hair, didn’t. Eliza traded in her old glasses for a small trendy pair (from Paris? Italy?) which both showed of her green eyes, and gave an intellectual edge to her style. Andrew was an older, fatter, more pissed off version of himself. Eliza was transformed into... to be blunt, a very hot woman. If you’re into that type.

Andrew wasn’t. Well, not so much. His buddy Jason on the other hand was. If it wasn’t for Jason, Andrew and Eliza probably would have quickly drifted apart after finding their bearings at school. Jason had other plans. Andrew and Jason first talked a few weeks into classes. Andrew was in several classes with Jason, who usually sat with a girl. He quickly made himself known for being very vocal, and while offensive, a pretty funny guy. The girl was usually pretty quiet, usually smiling gently at whatever Jason was spewing out. One day, Andrew walked into class and sat near Jason, who was for the first time alone. While the rest of the class slowly filed in, Andrew found his reading (The Princess Bride, 4th time through) interrupted by a hand on his desk. He looked up to find Jason staring at him.

“You’re going to be my friend.”

Sarah was the girl’s name. She had decided that university wasn’t for her, and dropped out. They didn’t know this at the time, and it’s not important now, but it will be later, so try to remember. Andrew and Jason found that they shared many interests (videogames, books, the fall of western civilization, if there is such a thing, ect.) and made fast friends of each other. When they later met for a coffee and Eliza passed by, greeting Andrew, Jason made Andrew promise that he would introduce them. The story goes on for a while after this, but suffice to say that hilarity ensued.

This all resulted in Jason, Eliza and Andrew spending a fair amount of time with each other, and at one point or another being involved with Blackout, Eliza’s pet project. Her time in Europe had led her to the conclusion that advertising was a bane on human existence and brought about nothing but pain and misery. She enlisted her fellow international development and theatre students (double major, both honors) as well as Andrew and Jason to her various initiatives, movements and protests. This amounted to a lot of black paint, several brushes with the law, minor press coverage and a stern talking to. It turns out that painting over advertisements isn’t legal, and you’re-lucky-that paint-washed-off-or-you’d-be-in-shit-young-lady can be said many times over a small period of time. Eliza did however become a bit of a folk hero, and used her notoriety to host a webpage, blackout.com, which was basically a forum for fellow disenfranchised citizens to discuss plans and discover what exactly is and isn’t legal.

Anthony was apparently very interested in finding out if Eliza had any other intersecting piercings, and so he managed to talk his dad into giving her a cheap place to host her site, which was run off the arcade’s own network. Irony of ironies, while teenagers played LAN games of Counterstrike and Doom 3, along those same network cables, various anarchists and shit stirrers discussed problems in society and why videogames where destroying youth culture. Isn’t the world an awesome place? The far corner of the LAN room was blocked off by a small divider wall, and if it was between 1-3 on a weekday and Anthony’s long frame wasn’t poking out from behind it, then it was a pretty safe bet that Jason would be there, over Eliza’s shoulder as she worked on updating the site, writing her next rant, or surfing for porn.

Or, you know, whatever girls do when they're just wasting time on a computer.

Conflict (Cont 2)

This was the third time that week that Andrew had chosen to stop by the arcade on the way to his University classes, and despite.. actually, because of the fact that it usually made him late, it would not be the last. Exiting the dark cavern that was the entrance to the arcade, he adjusted his glasses, while tossing his light brown hair away from his eyes. The sunlight shining down was a bit of a change from the arcade, and took a little adjusting. The sidewalk was pretty empty, a few people wandering some distance away, downtown to do some shopping, or on a break out to get a coffee. Andrew stretched, his small frame letting loose a few cracks and pops from the tension of the previous game. Andrew caught his reflection in the window of the next store. He sighed. Most people would have described him as “average”. Frankly, he would be inclined to agree. At the moment, he felt like the amalgamation of every early 20s, university student, white, middle class, male in existence. His default emotion was apathy, broken by bouts of depression or frustrated anger. Oh, and the world sucks, in case you didn’t know.

If you pushed a little further, you’d also probably find that he didn’t really feel that way most of the time, and was only in such an agitated state because of a few select reasons, but few people seemed willing to push further. The name of the game was coasting, and he was doing pretty well at it, all things considered. If you care for that kind of thing.

Andrew stopped suddenly. Behind him, there was the distinct absence of noise, which clearly indicated that somewhere between the back of the arcade and the sidewalk he had lost his companion. The lack of another reflection in the window helped too. This was not so much surprising as annoying. He quickly checked his watch, noticed that a new lateness record was about to be achieved, and decided that he had better be quick about finding Jason. Not that he had any difficulty imagining what had happened to him, mind.

The heavy wooden door gave off a medieval vibe, which Andrew supposed was the intent, seeing as how the sign above the doorframe claimed the establishment to be called “The Dragon’s Den”. In the upper right corner a red winged lizard breathed fire across the sign, while a small armored figure took cover in the lower left. Sadly, the effect was quickly ruined by the cheap lighted signs found on the other side, describing various party prices, hourly rates and featuring ads for products that were not sold in the arcade. Oh, and there was graffiti all over the door as well, which was equally effective at dispelling the illusion. Nobody in the middle ages randomly wrote ‘fuck’ on buildings, did they? The lanky teen, still stuck in his book failed to make any indication of noticing the chimes on the door ring as Andrew reentered.

Andrew had been coming to the Dragon’s Den since he was in grade school, albeit not very often, usually just for birthday parties and whatnot. Unlike most arcades, it offered a pay by the hour option, which worked out pretty well for his friends parents who could toss the party there for an hour or two of peace. He had always imagined when he was young that when he went to university he’d attend he downtown campus, simply because it was located a block away from the arcade. As he grew up, his attraction to the arcade waxed and waned, as other arcades opened and closed, home game systems were bought and broken and as his own interest in videogames shifted. It had won him back the previous year when a new owner took over and imported a bunch of off-the-wall Japanese imports, but now most of them were mastered or in serious need of repair, and Andrew almost felt as if his interest was merely conditioned. Always have to check, see if anything is new, check if his high scores are still holding up, play a game or two. The teenager behind the counter finally looked up from his book.

“Asshole, didn’t you just leave?’

Anthony was the owner’s son, and he and Andrew had spent the great deal of time both of them had in the arcade to grow a great dislike for each other. Andrew mostly just resented the fact that Anthony had such a great, easy job, and spent a great deal of time telling anyone who would listen how much it sucked, while Anthony… well, as far as Andrew could tell, Anthony was just a disagreeable asshole who didn’t like anybody. That may or may not have also had something to do with Andrew’s occasionally standoffish nature. Who can tell about these things? Besides the arcade, the two also often saw each other at school, as they both were in the same Calculus and History class. Their relationship wasn’t helped out much there, as Andrew took the role of resident apathetic slacker , passing by the seat of his pants while Anthony was the resident math prodigy, and never afraid to let you know about it.

This had all come to a head a few months before at the start of the school year, when Andrew was talking to a girl in the history class whom he had been in classes with before. Both of them were taking the class to fill out some pre-requisites, and Andrew was just finishing a particularly embarrassing diatribe (with his back pointed to the door) when he suddenly learned that Anthony was taking that class as well. Stories would later differ, but he mentioned something about “a smart ass ugly jerk wad” which became a bit of a point of contention. Both of them were also interested in the poor girl in the story as well, which led to even more tension, and inevitably, more. In the end, Andrew had a black eye (just recently healed), Anthony’s long nose was put crooked (to stay) and Heather Mayers decided they were both jerks (and still does). Between that time and this one, their attentions had moved past each other, although it would be a great exaggeration to say that they now got along. Needless to say Andrew took every occasion to call Anthony ‘man’, something he for some reasons hated (“Come on, man!” “Jesus fucking Christ! STOP IT!”) and Anthony, for some strange reasons, remained hostile towards him.

Conflict (Cont)

The larger man began to taunt his fallen opponent, raising his arms to the sky and letting loose with a manic laugh. As the sound echoed into the distance, he raised his axe, preparing for a killing blow, when his opponent flew to his feat, and with a battle cry charged once again. This time the smaller man was quicker, and delivered a telling blow to his opponent’s chest, stunning him with the force and ferocity of the hit. The tables suddenly turned, the other man began assailing his adversary with a hail of blows and cuts, each one steadily battering down his opponent more and more. Brief and sad attempts at reversals were made, but each one failed, and the next would have less skill and energy. Finally, the smaller man took a step back, raised a blade to the sky and let loose a chant that pierced through the night.

A bright glow suddenly encompassed him, first covering his blade, then his entire body. As the chant rose to its climax, a bolt of lightning flew towards the blade, striking it in a rain of sparks and fire. The small man quickly plunged the dagger into his enemy, and its effects were quick: The wound quickly expanded in the barbarian’s chest, burning and shooting forth with electricity. He let loose a horrible death cry and then fell to the ground, well and truly dead. The smaller man turned to his side and gave a small smirk, as above him in blood red, large words began to float reading: “EXECUTION! +20,000,000 POINTS!”

------

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!”

“God, you’re such a poor loser”

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!”

“Come on, we’ve got half and hour before we’re supposed to be at the hall. You’ll do better next time, I’m sure”

“Shit! I fucking HAD you!”

The dimly lit arcade was a cacophony of various noises, bleeps and bloops, Japanese pop songs and a million digital death screams. Aesthetically, the room had probably seen better days, but as far as arcades go it was in pretty good shape. Columns of classic cabinets were intermittedly broken by a larger “gimmick” game – one equpiied with a realistic sniper rifle, or motorcycle or dance floor or taiko drum. Andrew pushed his way past a few street kids, well on their way to destroying the controls on a particularly frustrating fighting game, while Jason trailed him, periodically stopping by nearby machines, sliding his hand into the coin return slots, hoping to get lucky. The cabinet they left had quickly become occupied by another one of the urchins, who made quick work of losing, and now it taunted them as they departed, muscle-bound warriors beating the ever-loving crap out of each other in demonstration mode, while a deep voiced narrator informed passersby that “This is the fight of the century! Dare you enter the tournament of the GODS?!”

As the pair made their way to the front of the arcade, the machines began to thin out to a few next-big-hit games and a few rows of change machines and dispensers of various snacks and drinks that were probably not the best thing to have around thousands of dollars worth of electronics. A small island floated in the middle of the floor, manned by a lanky teenager who busily poured through a text book, seemingly unaffected by the constant noise around him.

“We’re out of here. See you later man.”

“Hummm.”

Chapter One

Conflict


It had finally come to this. Slowly, the two forms circled each other, breathing heavily; readying themselves for what was now inevitable. They were both warriors, fighters, representatives of their people, and now it was time for them to fight to the finish. The larger one smiled as the rain began to fall, lightning streaking through the sky, thunder cracking through the relative quiet. He pulled himself up to full height, at least 7 feet of pure muscle and rage. He wore little more then a loincloth, now soaked with the blood of his fallen enemies. His body proudly displayed the scars of thousands of bouts, and the huge gleaming axe in his right hand promised more of the same. Savage war paint adorned his face, which was now an image of pure fury, ready to witness the violence his body was primed to commit.

His opponent was a smaller man, but no less dangerous, either in skill or in appearance. However, instead of muscle bulk, this second man was tight and lithe, his body moving with an almost snake-like fluidity, ready to strike and snap at a moments notice. The twin daggers he held in each hand gleamed in the moonlight; horrible barbed things that promised to rip and tear down to the bone. He wore a simple tunic and trousers; they too also covered with the blood of previous foes. His long hair and beard blew gently in the wind, while his face gave no indication of any emotion whatsoever. This man was dangerous. He was ready to kill.

A moment of pause, respect amongst those about to engage in the intimate act of killing each other and they began. They had met two times previous, worth battles both. Each of them had won the day on separate occasions. However, this was to be their final encounter, and that they both knew. For a while they lingered a fair distance away from each other, taunting and feinting, attempting to get a read of the others movements, remembering their previous battles, what worked, what to avoid. The smaller man made the first move, rushing in under the guard of his adversary. His opponent was quick however, and repelled him with a swift kick before his daggers could do their work. It was then the larger man’s turn to rush in, his axe sweeping downwards in a mighty blow. This too was avoided, narrowly, by a quick jump out of the way.

Suddenly the smaller man was close again, and with impossible speed his daggers plunged into his opponents body, over and over again, blood hemorrhaging under great pressure. A swift kick brought the larger man to the ground. With a scream, he bounded back to his feet, and let loose a mighty roar. Without warning, the smaller man found himself held between two massive hands, and then suddenly assailed by a hail of head butts, smashing the berserker’s massive fore-head into his own, drawing more blood and sickening sounds of bone hitting bone. Finally, the behemoth raised his enemy over his head, and threw him to the ground, his neck making a sickening thud as it smashed into the ground.

Sadness- The Beginning

It begins.

-------Prologue--------

An Early Tale:

Before there was anything, there was the three. They were three brothers, whose names have now sadly been forgotten. They decided one day, when their wives were out, to make something to alleviate their boredom. The first and eldest brother made a dark void, filled with an exquisite bounty of nothing. His siblings clapped and for a while they sat and enjoyed the beauty of the creation. After a time however, they grew tired, and decided to add something to the void.

The second brother took fire and passion and fear and anger, all that which burned and exploded, and concentrated them all together into light. At first, it overwhelmed the darkness completely, filling the void with a blinding brilliance, but he then thought again and reduced the light to tiny points, pricking through he darkness, spread sparsely around. The three brothers agreed that this was indeed an improvement and smiled with glee and the new development.

When they tired of that, the third and youngest brother, who was unfortunately impatient, began to put things together quickly and set forces into motion. The light and darkness danced back and forth, and new objects hurled through the space, smashing into each other, creating, destroying, transforming. The chaos threatened to destroy the entire project, when the first brother took control and added laws, and rules, and structure. Suddenly the void had form, and the chaos worked in a beautiful tandem with the laws. This was certainly not at all what they had set out to create, but the brothers were delighted with the discovery and admired it for a long time. A very long time.

As their wives had not yet returned, the brothers became bored yet again and decided that they would yet again add to their creation. They refined it and expanded it, however something seemed amiss. Suddenly one of the brothers had an idea. While his siblings continued with their endeavors, he took some of the raw matter from their creation and began to play. Instead of something large now, he worked diligently and intently, focusing on small details until he had formed a tiny sphere, almost inconsequential. When he was finished, he called to his brothers who stopped what they had been doing and examined what had been created.

We know not which brother came up with the idea, only that each of them was delighted with it: This sphere would be called a planet. They would create scores of them and toss them into the void. These planets would belong to the balls of light, and would dance in their radiance. In turn, the light would continue to move and a beautifully choreographed ballet would play out in their creation. And so they began with their new project. Thousands, then millions, then billons of planets were introduced into the space, and then more, until the brothers had produced countless planets, each different and suited to their dispositions. The first brother created planets that were simplistic, but beautiful in their simplicity. The second chose smaller planets which flew with great ferocity, some even refusing to be tied to the rules of the light. Finally, the third brother made planets which themselves were ruled by powerful inner forces, were winds and storms shaped and reshaped their surfaces, while gasses and powerful energies burst through their crusts and created constantly evolving terrain. All of this held into their project and they all agreed that what they had created was more then any of them could have ever dreamed.

Then, something peculiar happened. Something no one expected.