Lights, Action, And Relaxation

Lights, Action, and Relaxation

Late night tonight. I watched a lot of movies today, and relaxed, did my usual walk, picked up the house. Still feeling kind of sick, on and off. Tired. But relaxed. Happy. Excited for Mother’s Day, it’ll be really nice to hangout with my mom and my sister, do something enjoyable for my mom. She’s a really great woman. She works very hard for all that she has. I hope everybody had a good day today, whoever reads these, you crazy bastards. I can’t imagine I say anything very interesting, and I’m sorry I kind of ramble.

- your friend, Zachariah

Neighbors in the Rain

It is storming today. Bruised thunderclouds rumble, lit internally by crackling lightning; electric spears.

The man sits in his lawn chair on the patio, overlooking the sheer lawn and slick aphsalt street. Prim houses line both sides of this road. Rain pelts the roof, splashing with metallic noise.

A car drives quietly up the street, it’s electric engine softly humming. It’s the neighbors. More rain patters it’s window and windshield.

The man watches. Sips his coffee.

They’re the neighbors. They are short, maybe five feet tall at the absolute most. Their skin is grey like dull clay, and they are eerily gaunt, thin. Lengthy arms and legs, with hands that end in disturbingly long fingers. Four fingers. Enormous, almond shaped eyes stare out from bulbous heads on thin necks.

Thunder grumbles when the last car door is closed. The man watches as his neighbors disappear inside their small, suburban home.

He sips his coffee. The rain patters on.

An Unlikely Pair: The Colossus and the Scout

Derros grumbled and Nastrea chuckled at him. They were both sweating in the sweltering, primeval heat. Insects, some as fat as a charcoal-colored chitin finger, orbited about their exposed skin along their heavy scaly armor. Angry sunlight stabbed between colossal tree trunks like glassy shards, wind tussling richly enshrouded trunks covered in mossy plated growths.

“Derros”, said Nastrea with a smirking laugh on her lips, “you seem like a hatchling, you know that? Pale as a weaver-worm freshly spurted from its-”

Derros interrupted. Irritated at the tall black woman, and also trying to hide his own laughter behind an unhappy expression.

“Would you hush up, you talkative squaking menace? I’m not sure what’ll drop me first: the predators, the parasites, the heat, or goddamn you!” Much to the young mans dismay: Nastrea burst further into laughter and clutched her stomach, wheezing in syrupy humid heat.

Derros sighed, wiped his brow. The young man was tall, but not as tall as his companion, and pale skinned. His lengthy curly hair was unruly. His armor was light and simple, fit for a scout to traverse the steaming jungle with ease. Nastrea on the other hand was tall and crowned by midnight dark hair, with vigilantly speckled green eyes. The woman’s armor was heavy, but organic with slick curves and tactical gear: ammunition cartridges, communications maintainers, chemical disperers, even a small active reactor that could be used for a rapid deployment vehicle or long term campsite. The pair trudged through the scraping forest floor.

As they walked, little did they know: they were being hunted. For deep in the shadows of the murky jungle, predators are abound always..

I see you, and we’re not alone.

When people like the things I write, I get very happy and excited, and sometimes I’ll ask them things on their page, almost always anonymously, as my way of showing them that I see them. I feel them. That little moment of connection is brilliant and beautiful as any summer blossom. It says to me “I see you”. And I want someone to know that I see them too, and that in this moment, we’re all not so alone in this world.

Notice Operations

Until further notice, IDS-47 through IDS-219 are closed for ontological maintenance. All staff should avoid these areas until further notice, and should continue to be diligent about any unpredictable or unprecedented activity within range of the containment sites. Non-compliance will result in immediate termination via patrolling IDS-security systems.

Thank you for your cooperation.

M Y T H I C

It rains today.

Bruised purplish clouds hang low in the surreal, majestic sky of Halo. Between marble-carved tufts and crags looms the distant Ring curve; distant etched surfaces gorgeously tiny from vastness.

Familiar trees, so painfully familiar and alien all at once, shift gently in a soft breeze. Tall grasses seem to waver like an illusion.

The Master Chief—John—walks quietly in the wilderness. There are no birds that sing, no creatures with their cacophony of noises. Nothing but breeze, but the distant thunder rumbling, but his own heavy steps, but pattering rain drops.

Is this a dream?

His armor feels.. different. Foreign. The weight is so pristinely light yet comfortable and inviting in a way that is almost unreal. Pieces seem to readjust or move. Hardlight shimmers on encased joints, along geometric patterns. His rifle is alive with a mind between each sizable bullet. Intelligent currents seem to trace glowing pathways across the midnight dark alloy.

John, walks quietly across the rolling hills, changed. Cortana, the Flood, the Librarian. An ocean of thoughts deep and dark as the abyss flow through his mind, quietly tsunami swells crashing.

Pieces of memories blossom in the half light of consciousness.

Lives he can’t remember, voices and faces and sensations ethereal as the dreams that wake him in the night.

A cackling Machine that once threatened him and laughed and laughed and laughed in hazy starlight..

A vast and alabaster sphere crackling with purpose, roaring with intent, resurrection amongst rusting tombs and trees that bled wine..

A monster that rose in the bodies of heroes, endless cycles, Atlantis reborn over and over in warring kingdoms hearts..

Thunder rumbles, far away.

A voice speaks in the thunder..

[sorry for going anon, @sledposting, but thank you sincerely for your kindness and openness. I’m sorry this might read a bit strange and off, I originally was going to go with a much shorter paragraph or two about the Arbiter and John around the campfire on Sanghelios prior to the Infinity’s departure, but figured I’d go with an old theory I liked about all Bungie related material.