GASLIGHT EVANGELION

[Mizagium]

“…Why London-III was constructed in the first place? To be a sandbar of sorts for any attacks to breach themselves on? NERVE’s done a fairly excellent job of keeping us safe up until now, right?”

“If you call destroying the city every other week safe…”

Suddenly, Shaun emerged from the rear end of the crowd and found himself completely alone. He glanced around. The streets were deserted. A gentle breeze stirred the wind chimes and Tesla-lines draped between the tall buildings. The street signs informed him that he was at the corner of Flatsburg Road and Fleet Street. In other words, he was lost.

I should have remembered to bring the map father sent me. Thinking, he dug into his pockets and pulled out two pieces of paper. One was a note from his father that read, “Shaun. I require your assistance. Please come to London-III. Lord Gendo.” The other was a portrait – picture, he had to remind himself, a picture taken with a camera device – of a young woman named Ms. Ato. Scribbled in ink along the margins were the words “Look here” and a arrow drawn to her ankles. Apparently, she was supposed to pick him up.

Shaun raised an eyebrow at the picture and sighed. The likelihood of being picked up now that he was lost was dangerously low. Maybe he was doomed to wander the abandoned streets of London-III forever.

Something on the edge of his vision caused him to turn his head. Some distance away stood a young girl, about his age, with short bleach-blond hair. She fixed an intent stare on him. He was about to ask her for directions when a retreating flock of pigeons distracted him. When he turned back, she had vanished.

Great, now I’m imagining things.

An explosion from inside the city shook the ground beneath his feet, unbalancing him, and causing him to fall against the hard façade of an apartment complex. Another sounded; this one closer. Dark shapes appeared in the sky above him. Gyrocopters, he marveled. Weapons of war derived from the notes of Leonardo Da Vinci to do battle with, first, the Germans, and then the Martians. What were they doing here within the city?

Five of them stopped and hovered a few hundred feet above the ground. Each let loose a barrage of bullets from the two Gatling guns equipped. It did the British proud to be able to use the Germans’ own weapon against them. Somehow, Shaun suspected that whatever it was they were fighting – whatever caused an evacuation order – wasn’t something cooked up by the Krauts.

His suspicions were confirmed only moments later when a massive black foot imbedded itself in the cobblestone street directly to his left, smashing one of the gyrocopters flat. The four remaining turned to flee, only to be swept aside by an equally large hand. Then the full terror of the monstrosity came into view.

The monster must have been hundreds of feet tall, uniformly blue-black all over its immense bulk. Each shoulder was shielded by a dull gray piece of armor that suspiciously resembled bone. Large spiked protruded back from each elbow; the hands ended into sharp claws. A vague replica of a ribcage protected a blood-red jewel protruding from its chest. The face was bird-like, with hollow eye sockets and only an upper beak.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

I thought that we had agreed on it being Ms. Otto?

Eh. Whatever.

[Myrdraxxis]

Ah. Well hell yeah.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

Great so far!

[Mizagium]

Shaun was evidently too small to warrant the monster’s attention, as it passed on by, each massive footstep breaking up the paved roads and rattling building on the their foundations, often causing windows to shatter or sections of walls to outright collapse. When it was out of sight, Shaun let out a stifled whimper and fell to the ground.

“There’s no way that was the Germans,” he said to himself. “No way. Nothing humanity possesses comes anywhere close.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Shaun screamed in frightened surprise at the new, female voice that spoke to him. Kneeling next to him was a rather attractive woman dressed in a variation of the traditional redcoat of the British Royal Army. He hair was pulled back and tied so that it resembled a pony’s tail, and a crucifix hung from a necklace. Above the right breast was the emblem of a fig leaf covering the word NERVE, with the last “E” mostly obscured from view, so it read NERV.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said soothingly. “Is your name Shaun Gendo? Son of Lord Gendo?”

“Th-that’s right.” He swallowed and attempted to regain full control of his muscles. “Are you Ms. Ato?”

“That’s right. I’m here to take you NERVE headquarters.”

She helped him to his feet and he noticed the large, gray-colored horse waiting a few feet away. Noticing his look, Ms. Ato said, “It’s an ironhorse, developed by NERVE scientists for use in combat.”

“Developed?” Shaun exclaimed. “How can a horse have been developed?”

She tilted her head to one side. “You know about life-threads, right? The strands from which all life is organized?”

“Sure. They teach us that in school. Charles Darwin discovered them almost two hundred years ago.”

“Right. Well, we figured out how to manipulate those threads, and” she indicated the ironhorse “create this.” She shook her head. “But we don’t have time for this. Come on; I need to get you to NERVE.”

She mounted the ironhorse in a very unladylike manner and pulled Shaun up behind her. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist – then squeezed them in a deathgrip as the beast took off at full speed down the road. The wind whipped into his eyes with such force that he had to keep them closed, and so had absolutely no idea where he was headed.

[Mizagium]

feel free to make edits, just let me know so I can add them back in.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

Uh... Young Ms. Otto.


That is all.
actually, here. Give me a sec.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

“…Why London-III was constructed in the first place? To be a sandbar of sorts for any attacks to breach themselves on? NERVE’s done a fairly excellent job of keeping us safe up until now, right?”

“If you call destroying the city every other week safe…”

Suddenly, Shaun emerged from the rear end of the crowd and found himself completely alone. He glanced around. The streets were deserted. A gentle breeze stirred the wind chimes and Tesla-lines draped between the tall buildings. The street signs informed him that he was at the corner of Flatsburg Road and Fleet Street. In other words, he was lost.

I should have remembered to bring the map father sent me. Thinking, he dug into his pockets and pulled out two pieces of paper. One was a note from his father that read, “Shaun. I require your assistance. Please come to London-III. Lord Gendo.” The other was a portrait – picture, he had to remind himself, a picture taken with a camera device – of a young woman named Ms. Otto. Scribbled in ink along the margins were the words “Look here” and a arrow drawn to her ankles. Apparently, she was supposed to pick him up.

Shaun raised an eyebrow at the picture and sighed. The likelihood of being picked up now that he was lost was dangerously low. Maybe he was doomed to wander the abandoned streets of London-III forever.

Something on the edge of his vision caused him to turn his head. Some distance away stood a young girl, about his age, with short bleach-blond hair. She fixed an intent stare on him. He was about to ask her for directions when a retreating flock of pigeons distracted him. When he turned back, she had vanished.

Great, now I’m imagining things.

An explosion from inside the city shook the ground beneath his feet, unbalancing him, and causing him to fall against the hard façade of an apartment complex. Another sounded; this one closer. Dark shapes appeared in the sky above him. Gyrocopters, he marveled. Weapons of war derived from the notes of Leonardo Da Vinci to do battle with, first, the Germans, and then the Martians. What were they doing here within the city?

Five of them stopped and hovered a few hundred feet above the ground. Each let loose a barrage of bullets from the two Gatling guns equipped. It did the British proud to be able to use the Germans’ own weapon against them. Somehow, Shaun suspected that whatever it was they were fighting – whatever caused an evacuation order – wasn’t something cooked up by the Krauts.

His suspicions were confirmed only moments later when a massive black foot imbedded itself in the cobblestone street directly to his left, smashing one of the gyrocopters flat. The four remaining turned to flee, only to be swept aside by an equally large hand. Then the full terror of the monstrosity came into view.

The monster must have been hundreds of feet tall, uniformly blue-black all over its immense bulk. Each shoulder was shielded by a dull gray piece of armor that suspiciously resembled bone. Large spiked protruded back from each elbow; the hands ended into sharp claws. A vague replica of a ribcage protected a blood-red jewel protruding from its chest. The face was bird-like, with hollow eye sockets and only an upper beak.

Shaun was evidently too small to warrant the monster’s attention, as it passed on by, each massive footstep breaking up the paved roads and rattling building on the their foundations, often causing windows to shatter or sections of walls to outright collapse. When it was out of sight, Shaun let out a stifled whimper and fell to the ground.

“There’s no way that was the Germans,” he said to himself. “No way. Nothing humanity possesses comes anywhere close.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Shaun screamed in frightened surprise at the new, female voice that spoke to him. Kneeling next to him was a rather attractive woman dressed in a variation of the traditional redcoat of the British Royal Army. Her hair was pulled back and tied so that it resembled a pony’s tail, and a crucifix hung from a necklace. Above the right breast was the emblem of a fig leaf covering the word NERVE, with the last “E” mostly obscured from view, so it read NERV.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she said soothingly. “Is your name Shaun Gendo? Son of Lord Gendo?”

“Th-that’s right.” He swallowed and attempted to regain full control of his muscles. “Are you Ms. Otto?”

“That’s right. I’m here to take you NERVE headquarters.”

She helped him to his feet and he noticed the large, gray-colored horse waiting a few feet away. Noticing his look, Ms. Otto said, “It’s an ironhorse, developed by NERVE scientists for use in combat.”

“Developed?” Shaun exclaimed. “How can a horse have been developed?”

She tilted her head to one side. “You know about life-threads, right? The strands from which all life is organized?”

“Sure. They teach us that in school. Charles Darwin discovered them almost two hundred years ago.”

“Right. Well, we figured out how to manipulate those threads, and” she indicated the ironhorse “create this.” She shook her head. “But we don’t have time for this. Come on; I need to get you to NERVE.”

She mounted the ironhorse in a very unladylike manner and pulled Shaun up behind her. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her waist – then squeezed them in a deathgrip as the beast took off at full speed down the road. The wind whipped into his eyes with such force that he had to keep them closed, and so had absolutely no idea where he was headed.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

There. Perfect.

[Myrdraxxis]

Tyler, once you show me the "finished product", post it and I'll see about editing a bit. Better to see it all together.

[Mizagium]

k.

Remember that 10-page goal? Well...we just got to the Geofront, and I'm nearly on page six.

[Myrdraxxis]

keep it up. This shit is so cash!


But, a bit of advice, I would wait to upload it (once finished) until later today...like, maybe noon. Give the prologue enough time to be read by thise who don't stay up this late.

[Mizagium]

Yeah. My eyelids are getting heavy as we speak. I've got to find a stopping place and hit the sack to preserve my sanity.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

but do post it so we can look over it.

[Mizagium]

it goes here first, then Fanfiction.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

alrighty.

Also, should we post this on Facebook?

[Mizagium]

do you think anyone cares?

...I'll do it anyway.

[TEAM_DERRICK]

I'm sure that our nerdier friends will get a kick out of it.

[Mizagium]

k

[TEAM_DERRICK]

yay