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outlet gucci On The Tides Of History
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On The Tides Of History
Summary: In the twentieth century, a small group of special operatives with arcane knowledge about time and space are trying to prevent the events unfolding at the onset of World War II from bringing about the end of the world.
A/N: I can't believe I rediscovered this on my computer! The file properties window says it was created in May 2007, meaning I wrote it when I was thirteen. Wow. Normally I try and bury the kind of stuff I wrote when I was that age, but I was just so pleased to have found this that I just had to post it! It's really one of the better things I was writing back in 2007. No truly awful Sues or self-inserts that I can make out yet, at any rate. I remember I worked really hard on this for quite a few weeks, and then for some reason I just stopped. Which is a shame, because I actually think if I'd continued with it over the past few years it would be really good by now. I've forgotten what I had in mind when I started it now though, so I'd probably struggle to continue with it if I wanted to. Anyway, here's the little bit of it I wrote way back when. I hope it's entertaining, despite its many flaws.
Prologue: Awakening
Dover
England
July 28th 1914
0004h
The sky was diamond clear. No clouds blocked the stars as they shone fiercely on the waters of the English Channel, their light reflected in the pitch dark waters of the sea.
On the heights of the White Cliffs of Dover a figure stood, silhouetted against the clear sky in the starlight. He wore a long black cloak, billowing in the wind. His long dark hair fell into his eyes. His face was expressionless. He didn't seem to feel the cold. There seemed to be no emotion in him as he cast his gaze out over the sea.
His eyes were cold blue, like sapphires set in ice. In them the starlight was reflected as it entered the cold tempest of his eyes, trapping the starlight in the frozen pieces of stone.
He showed no emotion. No sign of humanity. Maybe it was that he didn't want anyone to see any human side to him, any weakness; but there was nobody around to see him. Maybe it was that he simply didn't feel. There was no humanity in him because he wasn't human.
For a moment, his gaze was broken as a shooting star passed overhead. He turned his eyes upwards and watched the comet tear through the sky. It was bright, leaving a trail of hot orange and purple behind it. That meant it was close.
Satisfied,comprar la martina, he turned his gaze back towards the Channel. He had been expecting the star: it confirmed that everything had occurred as predicted. It had entered the earth's orbit precisely four minutes ago ?C at midnight, and was now on a trajectory path out of orbit.
The comet had many names, one of which was the biblical Wormwood, but the one he knew it best by was Saros. It was impossible to predict when the comet would pass ?C it speed seemed to vary throughout its orbit in an inexplicable manner ?C but when it passed it was always best seen from exactly the same place: over this same stretch of land by the sea,gucci borsa italia, where its trail made a clear straight line high above the horizon. The man knew why it was that they came here to watch the comet. He knew what was buried in England's soil. He had helped bury it himself, many years before. The same time he had first seen Saros.
He was not an old man,mont blanc Fountain Pen, but many years had passed since his birth. Time was an illusion to him. He looked no different now that he had done twenty years ago,outlet gucci, and would look no different in twenty years time??if he survived that long. He did not age but he was not immortal. He had been granted life to serve his purpose, and if he died to serve his purpose then so be it. He existed to save the world: his life alone was unimportant.
Out of the darkness on the crest of the water he suddenly saw what he was searching for: the silhouette of a ship. It was crossing the channel from Calais, a passenger ferry, but one of the passengers was far more important than the others.
He waited for the ship to draw nearer,mont blanc kugelschreiber, until it was about to dock at the Port of Dover.
The figure turned away from the clifftop. For a moment he stopped thinking. He let his mind drift away, down to the docks where the ship would soon be arriving. When he began to think again he found himself there, at the port where the ship Morgen was docking.
He searched the crowds of people now leaving the ferry. He knew who he was looking for, and would spot him the moment he saw him, unless he was spotted first. The latter proved to be the case. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a shorter man looking at him. He had white hair and oddly coloured pinkish eyes. He was dressed in dark clothing and had a large black bag slung over his left shoulder. "Hunter," the man spoke to him.
"Shade." Neither Hunter nor Shade were their real names, but to call each other by their true names would be dangerous for them.
"Did you see it?" Shade asked.
Hunter nodded. "It will have passed out of orbit by now, but I'm sure the others marked it."
"Then let's go." They both left the dock and proceeded to make their way purposefully inland. Both of them had been speaking French but that was the native language of neither. Hunter was Russian and Shade an Italian, but neither considered either Russia or Italy to be their homeland anymore.
After a few minutes of walking when both were sure they were out of sight, they proceeded to repeat the act Hunter had performed earlier: travelling by the power of the mind and by no physical means. There were very few people in the world who had that power, and it had come to be known by the ones who had as 'shifting'.
They found themselves on the crest of a hill a few miles inland of the sea. On the ground before them, scorched into the grass was the shape of a cross, one bar parallel to the earth's equator and the lined up with the polar axis. They both knew they would find it, and both knew now what to do. Hunter looked at Shade. "Do you have the shovels in that bag or did you steal something?"
Shade smiled, "No, I have them. So let's just get this over with, then we can do something fun like??I dunno??going to a good pub back in the town."
Hunter caught the shovel as Shade tossed it to him. "You know I don't drink."
Shade chuckled. "Yeah, sorry I forgot; you're a puritan who'd never do something as sinful as drinking alcohol."
Hunter shrugged off his sarcasm, "You know I'm no puritan; I just got pissed one too many times back when I could afford to, and now I can't afford to I have no intentions of doing so." Hunter dug his shovel into the ground and tossed the first pile of soil over the cross shape.
Shade copied his actions then continued, "Yeah, I know you're no puritan. Do you even have any religion at all?"
Hunter looked at him quizzically, "Do you?"
Shade shrugged, "Yeah, the one that makes me come out here every time a shooting star randomly appears in the sky just to bury some weird black shape back into the ground."
"You think of it as a religion?" Hunter tossed another pile of dirt onto the cross.
"Yeah, what do you think of it as?"
"Something I don't have a choice in."
Both men tossed more soil onto the shape in the ground. Neither was prepared for what came next. With a sudden burst of light, red flames seared along the cross and leapt into the air. A moment later they extinguished themselves, but a jet of blue light flashed vertically into the sky. Shocked, Hunter and Shade watched it ascend to the heavens, where it suddenly seemed to stop moving upwards and begin a trajectory sideways, moving in exactly the opposite direction to the comet that had passed earlier.
The two men were silent for a few minutes, taking in what had happened. Before them lay a crater where there had been the shape they were trying to bury. It was smoking and the edges were on fire.
Shade spoke. "We??I think we need to tell the others."
Hunter gazed at the crater, "Yes??we do."
Shade looked confused,asics aaron, not understanding what could possibly have gone wrong. "What??what happened? I mean??I know what happened, but what does it mean?"
Hunter still stared at the burning crater. "It means we can't contain it any longer," he said, then turned his eyes towards the sky. "It means it's begun."
A/N: *Groan* Some of the dialogue in this is terrible! And there are instances of horribly purple prose. But still, most of the writing is actually better than what I remember most of my efforts at thirteen being. I actually quite like this.
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