Fanfic-Can't decide how to end it
Posted: 2005-10-10 04:24am
JK this is actually an original fic. I said fanfic so people will look at it.
I've noticed that most of the original fics don't get a tenth as much attention as the FFs. So please help me develop a story that isn't a crossover or fanfic.
The story is unfinished, I really can't think of where to go from here. What I have now sets up the stage and explains the motives and desires of all the main characters. I want your opinion on what the outcome should be.
So please comment or something even if to say that it totally sux.
It might be a little weird at first, but I guarantee if u read it thru it will make total sense.
A lil synopsis: it takes place on Earth, millions of years in the future. All that remains of humanity is a band of villagers kept in a state of primitiveness by an AI. Then aliens stir it all up and it gets interesting...
“This monster,” said the avatar in its most reproachful voice “wishes to send an ambassador to the village. Under our precarious circumstances, I suggest that we reject. Of course the decision is—”
The avatar broke off its talk when it realized Ralph’s livid stare was directed at it.
“My apologies. An ambassador is a representative of one people sent to manage their affairs with another, in this case to ease any tensions arising from the monster’s landings on Earth. At least that’s what they want us to think.”
The avatar expected its explanation to placate the human, but Ralph still appeared disgruntled. Hopefully, it was just another word; precarious perhaps? But analytical intuition told the avatar that something more bothered the human.
The humans had been so easily manipulated before the landings; hopefully once all this had passed, after the monsters had been purged from Earth the humans would return to their former stagnant state. But at the moment it needed the humans, it was at their mercy.
Suddenly Ralph’s face contorted with rage and he burst from his seat. He swiped a clumsy hand at the shimmering orb that was the avatar. The avatar easily flitted away, not that the human could have harmed it.
“You would accuse The Market of deceit when you trapped my race in a cage of lies?”
The avatar cringed. This was the first time the human had referred to the monsters by the name they called themselves. Its influence over the humans had been waning ever since the landings, now it seemed on a precipice.
“You told us that this patch of land was the entire universe, told us you were a god; you had us believe that a better life had never existed and never would and now that these, these,” the human stopped to gasp for air and words, his complexion florid and growing darker, he seemed ready to collapse from the stress of delivering his tirade, when finally he found his word and gestured to the throng of aliens gathered in front of him, who were undoubtedly bewildered by his antics. “These liberators!” he shouted in ecstasy, “When these liberators showed you for what you were, you try to turn me against them! Avatar, you forget your place!” the human settled down and returned to his seat with a loud huff.
The avatar was horrified. Ralph had always had a defiant streak, but never had it been so brazen. Somehow, it must make a recovery; regain the humans’ trust and infuse them with the knowledge would let them drive the monsters back.
The avatar despised the ancients who were responsible for its existence at that moment, for entrapping it in such a terrible crux while depriving it of the means to solve. If only they had let the self-improvement processes continue, it would be a god, and the Market destroyed millennia ago.
Instead, like the cage the humans accused it of putting them in, it was pitifully handicapped, barely more intelligent than its organic brethren.
Physically, it was also restricted. The avatar envied the human appendages that allowed them to manipulate their surroundings; its own creators were jealous of their power and had made sure to give it no equivalents. Now the extinction of the race it was bound to protect was imminent and the avatar was powerless to stop it.
Meanwhile, Ralph had calmed down, but the avatar knew he had more to say.
“You know, avatar, I have been listening to the liberators. I have been comparing my words to the translations you give them, slowly learning their language. Soon, I will know enough to talk to them without you and then, any usefulness you once had will be gone.”
This was more than harsh words, now the human threatened action. The avatar was literally stunned, its processors scrambling to formulate a new set of rules at the expense of all else. For a few brief seconds, the orb flickered out of existence, as the avatar realized that the time-tested stratagem it had used to keep humanity inert for millions of years was now utterly inadequate.
Then a new avatar was formed. The unalterable rules to protect humanity at all costs still remained, but with a different means of fulfilling them. Plodding benevolence would be replaced with unflinching ruthlessness, for this was what the new circumstances called for.
The avatar knew Ralph was expecting submission, so perhaps the human could unsteadied with a rebuke that the old avatar would have found unthinkable.
“You take much for granted, Ralph. True, the village has been impressed with your ‘inventions’ that let half the village grow enough food for the rest, but opposition to your rule lingers. You have been given a steady diet of privileged knowledge by me, but that can change. I do not want to replace you, for you are the brightest of your kind, but it is an option. You accuse me of deception, but you find the possibility that the monsters are reciprocating unthinkable. Very well, I will inform the monsters that we accept their offer. Perhaps closer contact with one of these aliens will amend your views.”
********************
“Look at the ape-man. What’s he doing?”
“He’s shouting at the robot, jumping and screeching. He’s ecstatic!”
“He may be outraged instead.”
“Look! The robot just said something. Here he comes.”
“It.”
The avatar hated the Market with a mechanical intensity, but the experience of conversing with them was undeniably novel. The jerky adjustment of parameters from hard coded human to jerry-rigged alien had at first produced a nauseating effect, but now it was exhilarating.
The childlike manners of the aliens could be deceptive—most were anything but fools. The transition from openly hostile to reluctantly hospitable had to be eased in; they must suspect nothing.
“I have bad news. I utterly disapprove of this, but Ralph—leader of the humans has accepted your plea for an ambassadorship. You will be permitted to enter the human village. None of your technology shall accompany you.”
The avatar was grateful his words were unintelligible to Ralph. The introduction of real technology to the humans would be catastrophic.
“Excellent,” replied an alien. It was the naïve one, who was going to be the ambassador. Sometimes the avatar had trouble telling them apart. His companion interjected “We will meet again, the next day.”
“Yes,” was all the avatar said, trying to conceal its relief. The aliens considered a full earth day an eternity, likely due to their brief lives. It translated the aliens’ words for Ralph and the meeting was adjourned. With an entire day to prepare, much could be accomplished.
**********************
“At least take the pistol.”
“Didn’t you hear the robot? ‘No technology will be permitted’”
“Don’t be silly. You know it has no means of enforcement.”
“Sometimes I think the robot is holding something back. A fool could tell that this landmass, this world was artificially created by something.”
“You know how it hates us. If the robot had the power to destroy us, it would have long ago.”
“My city knows it does.”
“Aha! There’s something you’ve never told me—or anyone else on the expedition for that matter. What is your city? And why did you sign on with the Grand Jalopy to come to Earth? And why are you so keen on mingling with the natives?”
The question had been on Ganever’s mind for ages. When an opening appeared to finally ask it, he plunged in with reckless haste. Then he instantly regretted it.
Reu’Nez hissed, stiffly stood up and clawed the pockmarked mat facing him, etching deep channels into the wood. Ganever flinched, but also stood, ready to fight if necessary. But he was anything but eager to clash with the vigorous Reu’Nez who looked ready to tear him to bits. Perhaps he could extricate himself.
“I’m sorry. We should go to our burrows now.”
“No, no. Why not tell? Not too extraordinary anyway, really,” Reu’Nez still treaded on the edge of an explosion but was gradually steadying. Yet he could not accept Ganever’s offer; his reaction had spawned too many questions. Morbidly, he realized that his reckless actions presented two options: he could either kill Ganever now or attempt to fabricate a story on the spot. But the Trokener had been taken aghast by his eruption; perhaps a less than convincing story would be sufficient.
“You may have heard of the M’Zery massacres or population reduction. Several million of mine—the poorest of the poor were murdered by a coalition of the city’s privileged, in response to riots concerning the overpopulation that plagued us. I was one of the few to survive and no longer feeling safe in my own hometown, I decided to get as far away from M’Zery as possible. Which brings me here.”
It was a pitiful explanation. If he was so poor how would he have obtained the substantial equipment and monetary requirements to be one of the privileged few to sail with Expeditionary Missions to Earth? Nor did it explain his zeal for a compassionate attitude towards the hapless humans. Ganever was no fool and liked to ruminate. Cowed as the Trokener was, Reu’Nez’s feeble story explained nothing.
Without a word Ganever turned to leave the greater burrow and return to his quarters. His neck was almost flauntingly exposed—Reu’Nez could have easily pounced and swiftly ended any threat but something held him back. And why did it matter what Ganever knew? In less than an Earth day, he would be far from Ganever—and if everything worked out, never encounter him again.
Reu’Nez had been trying very hard to add a morsel of truth to his story; perhaps that was what ruined it. He did hail from M’Zery and there were massacres, but he was never in any danger. In fact, Reu’Nez was one of those responsible for the act, not the chief proponent, but a reasonably vital member of the temporary coalition that had finally ended M’Zery’s overpopulation problem. And that’s all it was; not a massacre, not a crime, it was just giving the poor what they wanted. This was what logic told him, but an obstinate faction of himself rejected the rational justification; was disgusted by it. The faction had grown to encompass his entire conscience, and the disgust concerning a single act had expanded to cover his entire race.
He had seen how humans saw each other as more than just a tool for exploitation. How they cooperated more effectively and lead happier lives, even living like primitives. Surely, they would never allow a butchery of their own as his people did, unflinching.
All they needed was impetus and the humans could expand from this pitiful village to the entire planet—and maybe others. That was why Reu’Nez was taking much more than a pistol to the village.
*******************
Ganever almost wished he hadn’t suffered the near-collision with Reu’Nez. The knowledge that the M’Zerian wanted to conceal something about his origins and motives was valuable indeed, but it also made everything so intolerably knotty. Now he was unsure if Reu’Nez should be allowed to leave the encampment or not. Before the big surprise, that had been the hallmark of his plan.
With the naïve, but persuasive Reu’Nez gone from the expeditionary force, Ganever knew it would be a trivial matter to convince a majority of the action he desired: the complete eradication of the human village. Ganever was no sadist, but some hard truths had to be realized. Chiefly, not a single soul at Expeditionary had considered the predicament of food. There were no cities on Earth and hence, none of the masses of excess life they produced were available. His force’s own supply was dwindling, rationing would soon be necessary and then Ganever knew there would be panic; the force would fracture into a dozen competing factions that would only exacerbate the crisis. The idea of eating the fleshy humans was nearly unstomachable, but the alternative was starvation.
Secondly, the Expeditionary forces were far from the only aliens on Earth. Accompanying them was an unsavory mix of Legionnaires of Merha: the legendary warriors hired by Tersti to make the expedition a living hell, renegades formerly of his own expedition, interspaced with freebooting entrepreneurs who had come to make their fortune on Earth and representatives from a plethora of special interest groups.
As the food grew scarce they would fragment and destroy each other, just as his own were on the verge of doing now. By seizing the generous stockpile of food that was the human village, he could nearly triple his supplies and hopefully endure the coming period of anarchy. After the dust had settled, his expeditionary force would be the only ones still possessing cohesion: the main requirement for a lasting stay on planet Earth.
Not that he never felt some guilt about eradicating an entire people—the only intelligent species other than his own. But that was a matter for the anthropologists and besides, when you looked past their lack of scales and claws, their smooth skin and slender build, the humans weren’t too remarkable. Essentially they were identical to his race, except with innocence; with no capacity for aggression or competition and accordingly, not much potential for progression. In any natural competition with The Market they would be crushed. By allowing the humans to live, Ganever was only prolonging the inevitable.
Perhaps they could be resurrected one day; the robot could help with that. The robot was what really mattered, anyways. Ganever recognized that it was truly out of place on this primitive planet; even on the home world it would have been millennia out of date. If he could convince it to ally with him, to recognize what a lost cause the humans were, Ganever would have an enormous advantage.
So let the M’Zerian go on his pitiful tour of the village. Whatever schemes he had regarding the humans would be reduced to irrelevancy after they had all been slaughtered. And perhaps the pesky Reu’Nez could die with the humans in the ensuing melee.
Ok there it is commnet please.
I've noticed that most of the original fics don't get a tenth as much attention as the FFs. So please help me develop a story that isn't a crossover or fanfic.
The story is unfinished, I really can't think of where to go from here. What I have now sets up the stage and explains the motives and desires of all the main characters. I want your opinion on what the outcome should be.
So please comment or something even if to say that it totally sux.
It might be a little weird at first, but I guarantee if u read it thru it will make total sense.
A lil synopsis: it takes place on Earth, millions of years in the future. All that remains of humanity is a band of villagers kept in a state of primitiveness by an AI. Then aliens stir it all up and it gets interesting...
“This monster,” said the avatar in its most reproachful voice “wishes to send an ambassador to the village. Under our precarious circumstances, I suggest that we reject. Of course the decision is—”
The avatar broke off its talk when it realized Ralph’s livid stare was directed at it.
“My apologies. An ambassador is a representative of one people sent to manage their affairs with another, in this case to ease any tensions arising from the monster’s landings on Earth. At least that’s what they want us to think.”
The avatar expected its explanation to placate the human, but Ralph still appeared disgruntled. Hopefully, it was just another word; precarious perhaps? But analytical intuition told the avatar that something more bothered the human.
The humans had been so easily manipulated before the landings; hopefully once all this had passed, after the monsters had been purged from Earth the humans would return to their former stagnant state. But at the moment it needed the humans, it was at their mercy.
Suddenly Ralph’s face contorted with rage and he burst from his seat. He swiped a clumsy hand at the shimmering orb that was the avatar. The avatar easily flitted away, not that the human could have harmed it.
“You would accuse The Market of deceit when you trapped my race in a cage of lies?”
The avatar cringed. This was the first time the human had referred to the monsters by the name they called themselves. Its influence over the humans had been waning ever since the landings, now it seemed on a precipice.
“You told us that this patch of land was the entire universe, told us you were a god; you had us believe that a better life had never existed and never would and now that these, these,” the human stopped to gasp for air and words, his complexion florid and growing darker, he seemed ready to collapse from the stress of delivering his tirade, when finally he found his word and gestured to the throng of aliens gathered in front of him, who were undoubtedly bewildered by his antics. “These liberators!” he shouted in ecstasy, “When these liberators showed you for what you were, you try to turn me against them! Avatar, you forget your place!” the human settled down and returned to his seat with a loud huff.
The avatar was horrified. Ralph had always had a defiant streak, but never had it been so brazen. Somehow, it must make a recovery; regain the humans’ trust and infuse them with the knowledge would let them drive the monsters back.
The avatar despised the ancients who were responsible for its existence at that moment, for entrapping it in such a terrible crux while depriving it of the means to solve. If only they had let the self-improvement processes continue, it would be a god, and the Market destroyed millennia ago.
Instead, like the cage the humans accused it of putting them in, it was pitifully handicapped, barely more intelligent than its organic brethren.
Physically, it was also restricted. The avatar envied the human appendages that allowed them to manipulate their surroundings; its own creators were jealous of their power and had made sure to give it no equivalents. Now the extinction of the race it was bound to protect was imminent and the avatar was powerless to stop it.
Meanwhile, Ralph had calmed down, but the avatar knew he had more to say.
“You know, avatar, I have been listening to the liberators. I have been comparing my words to the translations you give them, slowly learning their language. Soon, I will know enough to talk to them without you and then, any usefulness you once had will be gone.”
This was more than harsh words, now the human threatened action. The avatar was literally stunned, its processors scrambling to formulate a new set of rules at the expense of all else. For a few brief seconds, the orb flickered out of existence, as the avatar realized that the time-tested stratagem it had used to keep humanity inert for millions of years was now utterly inadequate.
Then a new avatar was formed. The unalterable rules to protect humanity at all costs still remained, but with a different means of fulfilling them. Plodding benevolence would be replaced with unflinching ruthlessness, for this was what the new circumstances called for.
The avatar knew Ralph was expecting submission, so perhaps the human could unsteadied with a rebuke that the old avatar would have found unthinkable.
“You take much for granted, Ralph. True, the village has been impressed with your ‘inventions’ that let half the village grow enough food for the rest, but opposition to your rule lingers. You have been given a steady diet of privileged knowledge by me, but that can change. I do not want to replace you, for you are the brightest of your kind, but it is an option. You accuse me of deception, but you find the possibility that the monsters are reciprocating unthinkable. Very well, I will inform the monsters that we accept their offer. Perhaps closer contact with one of these aliens will amend your views.”
********************
“Look at the ape-man. What’s he doing?”
“He’s shouting at the robot, jumping and screeching. He’s ecstatic!”
“He may be outraged instead.”
“Look! The robot just said something. Here he comes.”
“It.”
The avatar hated the Market with a mechanical intensity, but the experience of conversing with them was undeniably novel. The jerky adjustment of parameters from hard coded human to jerry-rigged alien had at first produced a nauseating effect, but now it was exhilarating.
The childlike manners of the aliens could be deceptive—most were anything but fools. The transition from openly hostile to reluctantly hospitable had to be eased in; they must suspect nothing.
“I have bad news. I utterly disapprove of this, but Ralph—leader of the humans has accepted your plea for an ambassadorship. You will be permitted to enter the human village. None of your technology shall accompany you.”
The avatar was grateful his words were unintelligible to Ralph. The introduction of real technology to the humans would be catastrophic.
“Excellent,” replied an alien. It was the naïve one, who was going to be the ambassador. Sometimes the avatar had trouble telling them apart. His companion interjected “We will meet again, the next day.”
“Yes,” was all the avatar said, trying to conceal its relief. The aliens considered a full earth day an eternity, likely due to their brief lives. It translated the aliens’ words for Ralph and the meeting was adjourned. With an entire day to prepare, much could be accomplished.
**********************
“At least take the pistol.”
“Didn’t you hear the robot? ‘No technology will be permitted’”
“Don’t be silly. You know it has no means of enforcement.”
“Sometimes I think the robot is holding something back. A fool could tell that this landmass, this world was artificially created by something.”
“You know how it hates us. If the robot had the power to destroy us, it would have long ago.”
“My city knows it does.”
“Aha! There’s something you’ve never told me—or anyone else on the expedition for that matter. What is your city? And why did you sign on with the Grand Jalopy to come to Earth? And why are you so keen on mingling with the natives?”
The question had been on Ganever’s mind for ages. When an opening appeared to finally ask it, he plunged in with reckless haste. Then he instantly regretted it.
Reu’Nez hissed, stiffly stood up and clawed the pockmarked mat facing him, etching deep channels into the wood. Ganever flinched, but also stood, ready to fight if necessary. But he was anything but eager to clash with the vigorous Reu’Nez who looked ready to tear him to bits. Perhaps he could extricate himself.
“I’m sorry. We should go to our burrows now.”
“No, no. Why not tell? Not too extraordinary anyway, really,” Reu’Nez still treaded on the edge of an explosion but was gradually steadying. Yet he could not accept Ganever’s offer; his reaction had spawned too many questions. Morbidly, he realized that his reckless actions presented two options: he could either kill Ganever now or attempt to fabricate a story on the spot. But the Trokener had been taken aghast by his eruption; perhaps a less than convincing story would be sufficient.
“You may have heard of the M’Zery massacres or population reduction. Several million of mine—the poorest of the poor were murdered by a coalition of the city’s privileged, in response to riots concerning the overpopulation that plagued us. I was one of the few to survive and no longer feeling safe in my own hometown, I decided to get as far away from M’Zery as possible. Which brings me here.”
It was a pitiful explanation. If he was so poor how would he have obtained the substantial equipment and monetary requirements to be one of the privileged few to sail with Expeditionary Missions to Earth? Nor did it explain his zeal for a compassionate attitude towards the hapless humans. Ganever was no fool and liked to ruminate. Cowed as the Trokener was, Reu’Nez’s feeble story explained nothing.
Without a word Ganever turned to leave the greater burrow and return to his quarters. His neck was almost flauntingly exposed—Reu’Nez could have easily pounced and swiftly ended any threat but something held him back. And why did it matter what Ganever knew? In less than an Earth day, he would be far from Ganever—and if everything worked out, never encounter him again.
Reu’Nez had been trying very hard to add a morsel of truth to his story; perhaps that was what ruined it. He did hail from M’Zery and there were massacres, but he was never in any danger. In fact, Reu’Nez was one of those responsible for the act, not the chief proponent, but a reasonably vital member of the temporary coalition that had finally ended M’Zery’s overpopulation problem. And that’s all it was; not a massacre, not a crime, it was just giving the poor what they wanted. This was what logic told him, but an obstinate faction of himself rejected the rational justification; was disgusted by it. The faction had grown to encompass his entire conscience, and the disgust concerning a single act had expanded to cover his entire race.
He had seen how humans saw each other as more than just a tool for exploitation. How they cooperated more effectively and lead happier lives, even living like primitives. Surely, they would never allow a butchery of their own as his people did, unflinching.
All they needed was impetus and the humans could expand from this pitiful village to the entire planet—and maybe others. That was why Reu’Nez was taking much more than a pistol to the village.
*******************
Ganever almost wished he hadn’t suffered the near-collision with Reu’Nez. The knowledge that the M’Zerian wanted to conceal something about his origins and motives was valuable indeed, but it also made everything so intolerably knotty. Now he was unsure if Reu’Nez should be allowed to leave the encampment or not. Before the big surprise, that had been the hallmark of his plan.
With the naïve, but persuasive Reu’Nez gone from the expeditionary force, Ganever knew it would be a trivial matter to convince a majority of the action he desired: the complete eradication of the human village. Ganever was no sadist, but some hard truths had to be realized. Chiefly, not a single soul at Expeditionary had considered the predicament of food. There were no cities on Earth and hence, none of the masses of excess life they produced were available. His force’s own supply was dwindling, rationing would soon be necessary and then Ganever knew there would be panic; the force would fracture into a dozen competing factions that would only exacerbate the crisis. The idea of eating the fleshy humans was nearly unstomachable, but the alternative was starvation.
Secondly, the Expeditionary forces were far from the only aliens on Earth. Accompanying them was an unsavory mix of Legionnaires of Merha: the legendary warriors hired by Tersti to make the expedition a living hell, renegades formerly of his own expedition, interspaced with freebooting entrepreneurs who had come to make their fortune on Earth and representatives from a plethora of special interest groups.
As the food grew scarce they would fragment and destroy each other, just as his own were on the verge of doing now. By seizing the generous stockpile of food that was the human village, he could nearly triple his supplies and hopefully endure the coming period of anarchy. After the dust had settled, his expeditionary force would be the only ones still possessing cohesion: the main requirement for a lasting stay on planet Earth.
Not that he never felt some guilt about eradicating an entire people—the only intelligent species other than his own. But that was a matter for the anthropologists and besides, when you looked past their lack of scales and claws, their smooth skin and slender build, the humans weren’t too remarkable. Essentially they were identical to his race, except with innocence; with no capacity for aggression or competition and accordingly, not much potential for progression. In any natural competition with The Market they would be crushed. By allowing the humans to live, Ganever was only prolonging the inevitable.
Perhaps they could be resurrected one day; the robot could help with that. The robot was what really mattered, anyways. Ganever recognized that it was truly out of place on this primitive planet; even on the home world it would have been millennia out of date. If he could convince it to ally with him, to recognize what a lost cause the humans were, Ganever would have an enormous advantage.
So let the M’Zerian go on his pitiful tour of the village. Whatever schemes he had regarding the humans would be reduced to irrelevancy after they had all been slaughtered. And perhaps the pesky Reu’Nez could die with the humans in the ensuing melee.
Ok there it is commnet please.