[Feedback/WP] [CW: Novel] D1sc0nn3ct: Hopefully not that bad.....

[Yours Truly]

And so this book idea has somehow mutated, but anyway the title should still be the same, and I retain my hope that this won't become just another piece of sh-

Oh my I'm going off topic aren't I? well without further Adieu...

D1sc0nn3ct: Where a young man with a ridiculous fake name does stuff....*

Prologue:

Look I have absolutely no idea how to write this down in a way that makes any amount of sense to anyone that will read this; so I won’t even try.

I will not write down my real name; because I don’t want anyone to ever find that out, but for now I can tell you my false name; the name that earlier this week I jokingly said was my real name; it’s Era Frangipane; yes laugh if you want, but I’m being serious here; if you are reading this please don’t look behind you; not because there’s a monster there, but because that would be a complete and utter waste of time.

It all started on that accursed day; the first Monday of the first month of the year two thousand and fifty; years ago some damn fool unleashed a force that he could not control on the world, but for a good long while not a lot has changed; the world hadn’t ended; people were just doing fine, and the entrance of people who could throw fireballs at other people didn’t really change much of anything for your average human being, but for everyone who showed any amount of aptitude with magic; life was a little more difficult.

But people these days are used to the idea of having any potential magic users shipped away to boarding schools where they could use their new found powers in ways that doesn’t involve accidentally setting their neighbors house on fire, and on the most part it’s quite voluntary, and yes I do mention fire a lot, but that’s only because my “Magic” revolves around setting people and things on fire; which is great and all, but it doesn’t really have that much peaceful uses other than cooking or camp making.

But anyway magic like sleep is something that no one really understands, and the only thing that people understand less is why different people naturally show different specializations; like for example I can set things on fire pretty well, but I can’t control water like some people do, and while being able to lift extraordinarily heavy weights is one of the most common types of specializations; I can’t lift a three kilogram bag for short distances without running out of breath; it seems more like super powers than actual magic, but I’m part of the group that thinks that magic is really just a way to flip a middle finger to physics; which is quite nice.

Now the academy itself is one of many government institutions that have been made to educate people like us, and while they promise us that these kinds of places aren’t just prisons for magic using people; you can’t just walk out of the door and go home, but of course just like every single person that was forcibly dragged here I think that this place is in fact just one prison; it’s a very interesting prison; filled to the brim with people that I’m guessing didn’t survive what happened earlier this week…

But anyway I’m going waaaaay off topic here; in short some blind idiot accidentally opened a portal to another dimension, and the portal sucked everything inside, and now I’m just trying not to get eaten alive down in….. where ever this is; here’s hoping I don’t die horribly.

Prologue part 2: Expansion, or Double take

Right; I am sorry about the last chapter but I ran out of electricity to power my laptop with; you have no idea how hard it is to get workable electricity down here, but anyway the journal.

As you previously know the pseudonym I am currently using is Era Frangipane; it is the result of a prior conversation I had with my associates about false names, and their utility.

Now if you are wondering why a person like me would want to write something like this in such a hectic time; then I will first ask you if you know what kind of trouble I am in, and then I will tell you my reason.

A certain writer who was prominent around seven to four decades ago once said that one of the things he regrets never doing in his life is keeping a diary, and once I read that I immediately thought to myself “Maybe I should listen to his advice; maybe I should keep a diary or a journal or a vaguely written log of my activities”, but then just like always; life gets in the way, and my plans were buried underneath a pile of classes, homework, social gatherings, interesting books and subjects, and most prominently of all; video games, but right now seeing my current situation; sitting down for a few minutes to write about my day doesn’t seem so bad, and it was just my luck; I had the foresight to carry my laptop with me; a battered stained dust covered white colored thing that can’t possibly break any further.

This journal will be written as clearly as possible; there will be no chapters written without spaces; there will not be any chapters that are just one word written over and over again; well at least as long as I keep my sanity, but when that goes; I don’t know what will happen.

The font I have chosen is something that I once downloaded from the net for absolutely no reason other than the fact that its name fitted with the rapidly decaying quality of my laptop, but right now? The reason I am using this particular font is simply because it now fits with the potentially rapidly decaying, and uncertain nature of my future; you know what I mean right? Perhaps the next step will bring me closer to home, or maybe it will drag me down into the ground; just like quicksand.

Now the only problem is the spotty nature of my memory, and while I still write down stuff that I find to be interesting and worth investigating, but the point is that most if not all of the stuff I will be writing down here will be written in order of remembrance; not necessarily in the order it actually happened.

*And Some random short stories that probably has some bearing to the story.

Short Story one: And what does this have to do with anything? V0.5

“Have you felt it?”; said a man with a determined edge to his slightly deep, and fast speaking voice, and after a bit of waiting a man with a questioning tone, and an almost as deep; yet slower speaking voice; answers his question with “Felt what sir?”… the determined fast speaking man answers with “That tremor? You haven’t felt it? That deep reverberating sound of purple, and the crimson cry that signals the opening of another portal?”.

The scene becomes clearer, and one can identify the voices involved; the deep and fast speaking voice is identified with a man of medium height; he is currently wearing an outfit consisting of a black suit and a red tie; with equally black suit pants; his hair is graying and trimmed to less than an inch of short hair; it’s more like a fuzz than actual hair, and his skin is colored brown, and his eyes have a red that suggests someone that doesn’t speak much, and almond irises; he is well built or someone of his age; which is forty one, but his age doesn’t really shows; even with his desk job; the man still finds time to exercise enough, and his gait and mannerism’s suggests someone that is used to commanding, and on his face there is a smile, but it is the kind of smile that only appears in someone who has seen a new and promising opportunity.

The light and slow speaking man is shorter than average; perhaps around five foot six? And he is wearing a pair of glasses; corrective one’s that look fairly beat up, and he is wearing a pink and white striped buttoned shirt; with black slim fitting pants; he sometimes readjusts it; one may wonder why he doesn’t just get better fitting one’s, and he is much younger than the other man in the room; he appears to be in his early twenties, or to be more precise he is twenty one years old; his skin is colored a whiter shade of brown; a tan maybe? But anyway the man has several spots in his eyes; which has almost completely black irises; although they contain a slight shade of brown; his hair is colored black, and it’s formed into what appears to be a mullet, and his general build suggests someone that eats more than he exercises; there is a confused frown on his face.

We shall refer to the first man as Isaac and the second man as Solomon; because biblical names are usually weird and easy to remember, but anyway Solomon says “You know sometimes you forget that no one else knows what you mean by that? Except for me of course; so what you’re saying is that there will be more people arriving?”; Isaac shakes his head, and he says “No; not just another group of people, but an entire schools worth of them; I estimate around three hundred of them will be arriving”; Solomon frown turns into a rather devious smile, and he says “Marvelous; that is truly great news; so shall I be leading another expedition?”, and again Isaac shakes his head, and he says “No; you are not ready; I will be sending Jessie instead”; Solomon asks Isaac “Again? You do know that when it comes to being a charismatic bastard; no one here can even hold a candle against me”; Isaac says “That might in fact be true, but the thing is the people that are arriving; they are rather magical, and I’m afraid that in the slight chance that you offend them; you won’t be able to do much of anything”; Solomon looks rather offended by that, and he says “Really? just because I’m lagging slightly behind in my combat training classes; doesn’t mean that I will just fall against them like dominoes”; Isaac replies with “Well yes but you’re better with computers than you are in combat”, Solomon replies with “Well at least let me send in one of my drones in there”; Isaac shakes his head again, and he says “Well first of all; do you know how much energy it takes to power those things on long distances?”; Solomon pensively answers with “Enough to power your average apartment for two days?”; Isaac says “Exactly, and that’s just for an hour of operating time, but let me ask you one thing; why do you want to do come on this expedition so badly anyway?”; Solomon says “Because I want to contribute more to the story; I don’t want to just be a bit character that disappears when you eventually die; at least I want to be the guy that tries to kill the main character slash your murderer several times with revenge on my mind, but eventually gives up before he gets himself killed after he found love or money… preferably money”; Isaac says with authority “Well I cannot let you go! I made a promise to your parents to protect you until you come of age”; Solomon rolls his eyes, and he says “You do realize that I’m twenty one right?”; Isaac nods, but he says “Well if you were asking me for a loan to buy a car or to move into your apartment then I would say yes, but for a dangerous and life threatening mission through the mad wastelands which are filled to the brim with monsters and raiders who are all inexplicably wearing post apocalyptic battle gear and the desert of the full moon; so called because it’s always full moon there somehow, and all the way through the monster infested forest which is rather appropriately named as the Not worth it forest; where even if you survive that trip you will enter an inexplicably placed city infested with killer robots; until you arrive at the lands bordering the two nations that own this miserable stretch of land that we are now forced to call home”.

Solomon asks Isaac the following question “So if the new arrivals are located that far away from us… how did you know that they had arrived in the first place anyway? And why don’t we have any towns there? And why is it that this place sucks so badly anyway?”; Isaac answers the questions with the following answers “Have you looked up recently? You do realize that last night there was a patch of the sky that suddenly turned purple, and then a crimson red, and on that moment I could feel hundreds of voices crying out for an answer, and when an island appears somewhere; don’t you think that someone would notice it?; we did have a town over there, but we lost them when the neighboring “Nation” attacked us the first time; there is nothing there today other than unkept farmlands and ruins; personally I think that the reason this place sucks so much is because we’re living in the ruins of an ancient civilization; that was at some point like the one we left, but more advanced, and something happened, and they were destroyed”… Isaac realizes something, and he says “You know I just realized something… no matter what I say you’re just going to follow them anyway right?”; Solomon nods at this, and Isaac says “So why am I trying to stop you anyway? Perhaps you have to see for yourself… what it’s like out there; so yes you will be coming with them”; Solomon says rather triumphantly “Yes!”, and then he suddenly looks rather embarrassed, and he says “Oh right you were still talking”, Isaac stops staring at Solomon, and he says “But you won’t be leading this expedition; you will be a part of it… let’s say that you’re going to be the aerial surveillance for this one; your drone’s can fly right?”; Solomon’s expression shifts gradually to one of pride as he says this next sentence “Well some of them, but they’re the heavily armed one’s”; Isaac nods and he says “Good, and before you go; you might want to adjust their weaponry to be more long ranged”; Solomon nods at this, and he says “Well thank you for the piece of advice sir, and I will do my best to return here”.

The room has white walls and a fully functional AC system; there is a regular wooden desk in the back of the room with an extremely comfortable looking chair that was probably meant for pregnant women, and it is colored a bog standard black; the room is illuminated by a single light bulb that emits a white colored light, and in the room there is a tall wooden bookshelf filled with books about philosophy and Christianity, and on the desk there is an open book with the words the Phantom of the opera on its cover, and piles upon piles of paperwork placed on a box with the words “Out” written on it, and a nearly nonexistent pile marked “In”, and also on the desk there is a small wood plaque with what appears to be words written in gold saying “Isaac the Governor of Poppinsen”; on the edge of the room there is a wooden door that is colored as white as the rest of the room; it’s a regular door with a regular handle; there is a black colored coffee table with a small glass window covered by another glass window showing a constant simulation of the ocean and two small plush covered stool next to it; who are placed on opposite ends of the table.

Solomon walks towards the door; his gait is rather unusual; it's almost like he’s putting his weight on the leg that is currently in the ground; with it being kept completely straight, and once he reaches the door; he spins around to face Isaac, and he makes a small salute; spins back to face the door, and he exits.

Chapter 1: Just My luck V1

A young man is displayed rather prominently on the foreground; in fact he seems to be blocking out most; if not all of the background is covered by him, but behind him one can see a brightly lit dorm room; it is quite messy, and if you were there at that moment; you can smell the distinct smell of someone who hasn’t bathed enough recently; he is wearing a plain grey shirt; it has the distinct look of clothing that was at some point colored white; he is wearing black jeans; they look fairly clean; perhaps he has found the time and space to clean them.

His face looks tired; it seem as if he hasn’t been sleeping much, and the bags under his dark brown eyes are proof of this; although there is a wide smile on his face, and his build suggests someone who is well fed; although not that athletic, and his skin is a bit tanned; suggesting that he has been out a lot.

The young man finally breaks the long silence by saying “So it appears that my luck has finally changed; if you are watching this; this means that this handheld video recorder that I found worked for long to record one full video; which the rather archaic display tells me is one whole hour; which is quite long, but you don’t have to worry about that; I won’t take that long, but anyway it is quite obvious that as long as I have this video recorder with me I won’t write anymore, but then again; you never know, and besides; to me writing is faster than recording.”; the young man stops talking for a moment, and he says “Well I’m pretty sure you know who I am by now; I’m the guy that wrote the previous journal’s page”; he stops once more; as if unsure of what to say next.

The young man seems to have realized something, and he says “Oh right! I haven’t told you what happened, and I’m pretty sure you’re wondering why I am in a dorm room, but most; if not all of your questions will be answered at some point in the story I am about to tell you; although I don’t exactly have all of the details, and I’m not really sure about exactly how it happened myself, but this should give you a very basic understanding about how it happened.”; Era takes a deep breath, and he continues the story.

It all started on a Monday; the first Monday of the year 2053; it’s quite an alright year, and the majority is starting to become more apathetic about this magic thing; which is quite alright considering the fact that they were mostly against it, and by against I meant that they were probably going to kill or discriminate against you somehow, but anyway it was a pleasant false spring; the gardener’s weather machine was working seamlessly… try not to think about the implications that are brought upon by the last sentence; the only thing that you have to know is that it worked most of the time.

But anyway I woke up that morning quite groggily; as always I woke up sometime around six am, and I did my usual morning routine; which is quite boring, and so I won’t tell you about them; what I will tell you is what happened during the last class of the day; which is the class on the practice of teleportation.

Now on that day our usual teacher; a Mrs. Buttersworth was either dead or injured; I am still not sure about what happened, but all I know is that she stopped working in the school, and suddenly her hardworking substitute teacher became the primary, and in fact; only teacher on the subject.

The man was of medium height, and his hair was colored red; he didn’t have a beard nor a mustache, and his eyes were colored blue; he had a minor almost undetectable Scottish accent, and during his first day of teaching to our class he specifically said “First of all; I do hope that none of you make * trek jokes, but I don’t think any of you know what that is”; although; he was quite wrong.

I don’t think that he will mind if I use his real name; which is Alan Scott; he was a good enough teacher, and an even better magician, but he has a tendency to practice the throw you into the deep end and see if you can swim way of teaching; which would be alright if we were studying something like math or history, but not as good if you’re studying something that could go horribly wrong like teleportation.

Basically in teleportation; even the slightest miscalculation could end up being the difference between getting safely to the roof of a one hundred story building, or getting fused to the razor wire fencing; which of course means a certain and very painful death; which of course leads to every single practical test being performed in a field that is completely and utterly devoid of everything other than grass and trees; which is significantly less dangerous, but that’s not going to stop anyone failing rather spectacularly.

Era has a serious look on his face, and he says “Now the rest of this video will show speculation as to the cause of the incident, but to my understanding it was caused by a senior member of the class named Charles Salter”.

There are two things that you need to know about Charles before I tell you anything else; first of all he had Brown hair; which was cut short and kept neat, and he was taller than average; he always wore glasses with a small lens; I think they were corrective, and his face wasn’t really worth mentioning; it wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t the posterboy for handsomeness either; he exercised a lot, and at the time he was wearing a grey Hawaiian shirt with a grey scarf and white pants.

The second thing that you have to know is that he wasn’t really that good at magic; he tried hard, but he wasn’t really that great you know? He was quite good at the other subjects, but other than teleportation; he was quite crap at everything else though, and that’s why you might find it hard to believe my theory that he caused all of this, but bear with me for the moment.

Now Mr. Scott was wandering through the assembled students to check on how everyone was doing; now I must admit that I am not very good at this as well, and at best I can move several meters from where I am currently located, and so while everyone else is busy teleporting several laps of the field next at speeds that I cannot follow; I am busy trying my best to complete a single lap; I would have failed this class if it wasn’t for my skill at the theoretical problems.

But it’s not really my fault that I can’t do much of anything when it comes to putting the theory in practice; it’s because I don’t really have much talent when it comes to these things, but I can burn, zap, stone, drown, and fan people gently with cold wind fairly well; so while I’m not the most mobile mage; I am one of the most dangerous in direct confrontations; which is quite awesome now that you think about it; except for the bit where I took a class on something that I can’t do very well.

The other suspects aren’t so promising, but I will tell you about them anyway: First of all there is James D’void; I call him that because he’s almost “Devoid” of emotions other than anger; I have seen him write bad fan fiction before, but the problem is that he’s equally good at the theoretical and practical aspects of teleportation; which of course means that he is aware of the limits that has been put in place; so that doesn’t really help him much; oh and the thing is he didn’t survive the process unaltered, but that’s a story for another time.

The next potential subject is a woman that I will call Natasha Forest; she really loved nature for some reason or other, and just like the others she was located in the exact same spot as the rest; although she was relatively unharmed except for her right arm; last I heard she ran towards the nearby forest… we never saw her again after that, but anyway the reason that I suspect her is that she also had this rather worrying tendency to push the limits imposed on everyone bit by bit; in an attempt to outdo everyone else’s efforts; which could in fact have gone horribly wrong, and the wounds on her right arm are consistent with overuse of magical power; basically imagine her arm being mummified because of it, but don’t worry about the wound; some of the healing based magicians found a way to recover her arm’s function; it will still take a while though, and she swears that they were caused by the large amount of anti magical shielding spells she used to survive; although I do not know exactly why her right arm, and only her right arm was the one that was affected though.

And this should be the last suspect, and the only person in the group that I knew, and also the only one that survived unharmed barring some cuts and bruises on his back; the cause of which is still quite unknown; I will now refer to him as William Harper; not because he can play the harp, but because as you can probably tell by now; I am not that great at making up names, but anyway there are three things that he insisted happened during the event; first of all he put the blame solely on Charles; something to do with him focusing on the teleportation spell much more than he has ever done before; which he finds suspicious; second of all he said that before all of this happened Natasha was having a discussion with James and Charles about the limits, and how stupid they are, and last but not least; he insisted that the only reason that he was unharmed; was because before Charles finished the spell; he turned and ran the opposite direction; which in hindsight was probably the wiser option; not that it did much to prevent him from getting sucked into the hole like the rest of us, but that was probably just the fact that the hole swallowed the entire island; he is currently busy recuperating in the nursing room; he should be out by now, but I think he’s just doing that to get out of work and obtain free food.

I think I should stop here; it’s getting quite late, and I’m starting to get a little dizzy; I should probably go to bed now, or something like that; I’ll see you in the next entry or something.

The screen turns black; you don’t think that was sixty minutes worth of information.

Edited December 23, 2015 by Cronos5010

[Tomas Elliot]

Bookmarked. Will read with the outmost care and provide some (hopefully helpful) feedback as soon as I have some free time.

[0 Jordinio 0]

Seems interesting. Although, I could do without the text being so close together. You should double line for a new one.

[Yours Truly]

Added A tentative version of one of the short stories; some more words to the prologue, and a very tentative first chapter.