Here's the origin story, more to come eventually
I'm really focusing more on my art lately, but I will keep up both this account, and my fiction press
I've got a lot of original ideas flooding in lately, so it's really a matter of balancing my free time and school
oh, and the ladies
but you'll find out about that if I get around to Marshall's Girl
Enjoy!
He popped the buds into his ears, wrapped the cord around his MP3, runs, then a jump.
"Whammer Jammer, Lemme hear yah dicky!"
He slides down the building, quickly gaining momentum as he speeds towards the bottom. He reaches up and grabs the rope tied between himself and an air conditioner at the top to slow his descent. With the other hand, he clutches a can of spray paint, shakes it, then starts the line. He shoots it off to the left as he slows to a stop on the rope. He knots it, then stands up against the slanted building. He shuffles slowly to the right, turning up with the previous lines, filling in the blank space between his downward line and the white half-circle he previously made. A bluesy harmonica plays on the MP3 as he finishes filling the half-circle and begins to go over the edge of the red with a few more layers.
The man finally just stands still, takes off his gas mask and sticks it in his bag of paints, pulling out a pack of self-rolled cigarettes and lighting it. He takes a long drag, inhaling smoke and the aroma of spray paint, making smoke rings when he breathes out.
"Alright, time for the fun part." He says with a grunt, messing with the rope.
The man flicks away the end of the cigarette, puts the gas mask back on, and pulls his tomahawk off his belt. He drags the edge of the small ax against the rope, and falls. He scrapes the ax against the side of the building to help him turn around, so he can face the bottom of the building. Momentum is gained and the bottom of the building approaches constantly quicker. Finally, at the very edge, he hooks on to one of his previously pegged ropes and starts a quick zip line descent to the streets below. The man looks up to admire his latest addition. A bright red pepper with prominent cheek bones, large, yellow, bloodshot eyes and a sombrero against a black, fallen skyscraper.
He looked at his art, admiring the details and bright color for a few moments, reveling in his accomplishment before checking his bag.
"SHITWICH!" He had left a few cans of paint up at the top of the building, and it was getting too dark for another slide down, with the only other path being through somewhere he did not want to be when night fell.
Either way, he had to get the paint now. The man walked over to his bike (with accompanying tools in a box on the back rack) and grabbed a lot of industrial lights, planting them along the zip line paths so he would know where to aim when he went down. For himself, he brought a large lamp and two torches to light the roof. The first way up to the fallen building was through a large, multilevel mall that supported the bottom of the building. Then he could make his way up through the stairwells. The man sprinted through the shopping center, past endless halls of empty stores, as the orange sky darkened through the windows. By the time it hit the horizon, he was on the mall's roof.
Halfway up the stairs, He started hearing sounds of things awakening, and doubled his speed. By the time he hit the roof of the skyscraper, he knew the creatures had to be following him, and scrambled for his paints. Three cans of purple, a can of turquoise, and a bright orange were stacked near the air conditioner, he snatched them up and put them in his bag. Finally, the man approached the edge of the building again, tied his waist with another rope, and tried to light a cigarette.
Unfortunately, the sound of his followers bursting through the rooftop door made him jump so hard the death stick flew off the roof and went falling to the pavement below.
"That was my last one, dicks!" He yelled to his pursuers before subsequently tipping back over the edge himself.
The wind rushed by, and in the few moments that he was falling back to the side of the building, the only sound was the creatures trying to follow after him. He saw a shadowy figure at the edge, and closed his eyes. The man hit the glass, and began to slide down. Meanwhile, other thumps hit against the building, the creatures attempting to follow, but they weren't rational. The man just closed his eyes and tried to focus on the wind, instead of the bodies. The wind was quick, but soft. It was calm and cool, a relief from the warm day in the form of a pleasantly chilly night. Beads of sweat shining on his visible skin replaced by stars shining in the sky, the light of the moon and breeze instead of the sun beating down.
Thump.
Think of the wind, think of the night.
Thump.
Focus on the breeze, the moon, stars, but don't look.
Thump thump.
Stop!
The man turned over and kept his limbs close, in hopes that he might speed toward the zip line quicker instead of facing the torturous noises. The thumps of the creatures' bodies hitting the side of the building continued for what seemed like hours, even though the whole trip down took mere moments. The man hits the zip line and coasts down to the freedom of his bike, parked far away from anywhere the creatures might reach. He packs up his bags, and sets out to his home.
Two old shipping containers by a dried up canal serve for his home. Most of the other containers had been loaded and taken away long before he had arrived, but he found the two and figured out how to work the large crane and a blow torch. He wired in two solar arrays on the top of the containers and hooked them up to the few electronics he had laying around. His bed, a king size, was stolen from an abandoned off-brand Czech furniture store and placed in the far left. A window between that and the other side where a stove was located, then a line of bikes, boards, and other wheeled vehicles, ending with a tall lamp by the door. Opposite that door, a lazy boy turned towards the center of the man's home, followed by a couch between the chair and the bed, and a coffee table surrounded by books in the middle. Exhausted, the man walked over, dropped his bag lazily on the floor, then his gas mask, and flopped on the bed, soon to fall into a deep sleep.
Only to be woken up by more strange noises. Not thumping on the side of the skyscraper, but scratching on the side of his house. The man's immediate thought was one of the creatures has fallowed him, it had happened before, but this didn't sound like a regular attack. It didn't sound like anything familiar, definitely not any sort of animal. The man grabbed his tomahawk and decided to venture outside. The sun was young and pink in the morning sky, and a slight chill hung in the air, only setting the man's emotional edge sharper. He slowly rounded the corner of his home, unaware of what to expect.
He certainly didn't think it would be a tall, Hispanic, curly red haired chick in black and gray armor who just happened to be wielding a gigantic hammer.
"Uh... hello?" The man approached awkwardly.
"Holy stuff! A creep in a gas mask!" The girl said sarcastically, "what's up man? Think you can help me out?" She pointed to her knee spike, which had gotten hooked onto one of the walls of the man's home.
"First, what the hell are you doing here and why are you poking around my house?" The man asked.
"I was bored, and I wasn't poking around, I was walking by and my spike got stuck." She explained.
"What up with the hammer?"
"Sup with the ax?"
"How bout I just help you get unhooked from my house, so I can go to sleep?" The man sighed as he bent down to check out where the girl was stuck.
"Sounds good to me man," The girl paused for a few moments while the guy fiddled with the spike, "hey, how come you're all alone?"
"There's no one else." He explained.
"In this whole city, there's not a single other person?" She inquired further.
"Well, now you're here. And I'm here to unhook you so you can get back to leaving." The man stated, bluntly.
"Who said I was leaving? I was scouting for a new field base where the other knights and I can stash junk." The girl retorted.
"So much for being bored. And you don't want to live here, trust me." The man said, softly.
He finally unhooked the spike, and the girl stepped away from the hole.
"What's that supposed to mean? If it's so bad, why are you here?" She wondered.
"I didn't know there was anywhere else safe enough. Come on, I'll escort you out." The guy walked towards the easiest place to leave the city, and the girl soon followed.
"Hey wait, you didn't explain what's so bad about this place. Does it smell like farts? Is that why you wear the gas mask?" The girl pressed.
The man just continued to walk, and the girl simply followed.
"At least let me know your name. I'm The Masterhama, or Hama for short." The girl stated.
"White Wolf or Gas Mask, take your pick." He answered.
"Wolfy it is, then." Hama answered cheerfully.
And so they walked. A weirdo in a gas mask with a bag full of spray paint and a chick with a comically large hammer and curly red hair, through an empty city filled with graffiti and bright, strange art, heading for some sort of exit. They walked in near silence until well after noon, stopped to raid a hipster soup store for long expired lunch, then walked well into the waning hours of the day.
"Dude..." Hama breathed heavily for a moment, "The way I came in here wasn't that bad!"
"Probably not, but this way you'll get to see first hand what is so dangerous about the city, and you'll never want to come back," Wolf answered, "It's getting dark out. We need to find somewhere safe soon." He added, and began looking into the various close buildings.
By the time darkness hit, the two had found a mostly intact condo and eaten dinner. Now, Wolf and Hama were situated at a window, facing a department store near by. Over the course of the night, They both had lost most of their armor, knowing that they wouldn't be needing it. Even though they were strangers, there was a strange feeling of trust between them. Hama had gone down to just a long sleeve gray undershirt and black pants, whereas Wolf only took off his black and white striped jacket. They ended up sitting across from each other with a pair of binoculars and a large pillow between them. Hama was laying on her stomach, swinging her feet back and forth in the air in anticipation while Wolf simply reread the warning label on one of his paints.
"So Wolfy, what exactly are these things again? How come they're in just that department store?" Hama asked.
"I don't know what the technical name for them is, I've just been calling them the creatures. And they aren't just 'in that department store'," He answered before sitting up and grabbing the binocs, "hey, pay attention, they should be coming out soon."
Wolf focused in on the windows of the store, hoping to catch a glimpse of the horrors awaiting within. And suddenly, movement. Humanoid shapes began emerging from the shadows and stumbling roughly towards the door.
"Hey, quick! Check it out!" Wolf said, pointing towards the store while handing Hama the binocs.
"Fine..." Hama searched for a second, but Wolf could tell she got a creepy feeling by the way she tensed up when finally seeing the creatures. "What the hell are those things?" She asked.
"I don't even know, but I've had my share of close encounters." Wolf explained.
"They walk so... stiff... you know what you should call them?" Hama looked at wolf with a grin.
"What?"
"Stiffies."
They tried to silence their uproar of laughter, in fear of the newly named "stiffies" hearing, but couldn't resist the pure comedic value of the moment. They were in a city, at night, surrounded by a bunch of unknown aggressive creatures, and they're calling them Stiffies. It felt as though the knights HQ would hear their laughs, luckily they weren't that loud. Just loud enough to alert the Stiffie next door. A sudden banging commenced on the left wall, then it moved away, then at the front door.
"Get dressed, grab your hammer. We have to leave now." Wolf whispered while slipping his jacket on.
While Hama dressed, Wolf opened the window and stepped out onto the ledge. He walked a few paces to his right, and onto the shorter roof of the conjoined building.
"Wolfy! Hey where did you go, you little shit!" Hama whisper-yelled.
Wolf stuck his head around the corner, and motioned for the girl to follow.
"Are you kidding me!" Hama yelled again.
Wolf just motioned more forcefully.
"Oh glob..." Hama said, walking out to the edge.
Shadowy Stiffies moved jerkily on the street below, luckily not taking notice of the darkly armored woman walking precariously on a ledge eight stories up. Her armor clanked softly together, and scraped slightly against the rough brick, but the Stiffies didn't seem to take notice. The thumping against the door of the condo seemed to be the only noise, to Hama. In the dead silence of a dead city in the dead of night, it might as well have been Metallica on full blast. Once again, the Stiffies below didn't take notice. Hama shut the window when she was sure she'd be out of sight, if the Stiffie were able to get through the door, then continued towards the conjoined roof.
Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Just kept racing through Hama's mind as she went across the ledge, with Wolf motioning for her to hurry.
Step, step, step and... step. She came over and fell into Wolf's arms.
"You good? You okay? Got everything?" Wolf asked hastily.
"Yeah, yeah, I just... don't like heights." Hama admitted.
"Alright, hug's over. We need to go, or at least find somewhere to stay during the night." Wolf said while walking off to the next rooftop.
Hama and Wolf ended up spending the rest of the night in a greenhouse on top of a dispensary. They woke up early in the morning, and carried on with the path out of the city. All with barely speaking a word. They ate, dressed, and walked in nearly complete silence, still slightly dazed from the previous night's incident. Finally, they came to a stop at an, of course, abandoned deli to eat some of their canned food.
"What are the Stiffies, Wolf?" Asked Hama, halfway through the meal.
"There was some other word for them before the mushroom war, but I don't know it. They're just these things that come after you in the night." Explained the fellow in the gas mask, lifting it up to take in a bite.
"Yeah but... they're not zombies, right? I mean, there have been quite a few cases before, but they don't just go after you at night. And certainly don't hide in department stores all day. So, what are they?" She continued to prod.
"I. Don't. Know." Stated White Wolf, visibly frustrated, even through the mask. He took a moment to just breath, then took off the mask, grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his bag, and lit one up, much to Hama's surprise. "We need to get going." He stated between drags.
"What the hell are those?" Wondered the red head.
"It's a cigarette. You got a problem with smoking?" Wolf half-assedly asked.
"No it's just... Don't you think it's a little ironic to smoke yet wear a gas mask?" Hama retorted.
"The mask is mainly so I don't inhale the spray paint when I do graffiti, get high off my balls, and fall to my death. And the city stinks." He explained.
"Well, why not wear a painter's mask? And the city isn't that bad, I'm going through it pretty well." The girl questioned.
"This one looks cool. And your good smell counteracts the fumes of the city. Where you smell sweet and a bit like strawberries, the city stinks like sweaty ass and-"
"Spray paint?" Interrupted Hama.
"I like that smell..." The painter admitted.
"Weird. Wait- I smell like strawberries?" Hama looked at the man curiously.
He just smiled at her and took another drag.
"So, whats up with all the graffiti all over the place? You cant have done all of it yourself, Wolfy." Hama casually asked.
"I do all the big ones, the huge ones you see on buildings. Helps pass the time and gets me out of the house. Not that there's much keeping me in." The man explained further.
And so the night went on in this way, Hama continuing to ask about "Wolfy" as she had taken to calling him, and him explaining all he can about the city and his current life in it. Though most of the questions about his childhood were skipped over or he would change the subject. For a while, when the man had first taken off the mask, he held it tightly in his hand, but soon he had just left it alone. He'd become comfortable around the strange, strawberry scented girl. And she had done the same with him. Normally, her huge hammer wouldn't be more than five inches away around anyone, but it had drifted away to a rare eight inches away.
By night, they had made there way to the highway, and the easiest way from the city to the knights HQ. It was another cold night, soon to get colder since fall was nearly half way through, with winter fast approaching. A cold wind went through Hama and White Wolf both, though they didn't seem to mind. Though the gas mask had returned to its place on Wolf's head, Hama has learned to tell his expression based on visible cheek movement in the eye pieces. Currently, he had a strange smile.
"Look, I really appreciate you helping me through the city, but I gotta get back to HQ and tell them that there's nothing worth concerning ourselves over out here," Hama said, with hints of sadness and relief in her voice, "Or you could come with me and tell them yourselves." She flashed a smile up at the painter.
"I'd like to, but this is my home for now. I cant just leave. I promise I'll visit though, I have that map you gave me." Wolf assured the girl.
"You better." Hama said as she went in for a hug.
They embraced for a short moment, then the girl left. The last she saw, her gas mask wearing friend was heading back into the city, tomahawk drawn.
Two months had passed, but the man and their experience still felt fresh in Hama's mind. Seeing the beautiful graffiti, meeting this interesting person, the Stiffies. But whenever she got to the final thought, she felt a twinge of pain in her gut.
He probably died, they most likely got him. It's best if I just don't think about it too hard and move on... She thought to herself, accompanied by an angsty sigh.
She had reported only the existence of the Stiffies, city, and man to her fellow knights, avoiding much detail about her whole experience, and they had just decided to leave it at that. Hama went on mostly peacefully for the two months, only cracking her usual amount of skulls, but kept being reminded of the poor guy stuck in a city full of night-attacking creeps. She wasn't sent on many more missions, and just spent most of her time in the library, hiding in the corner and looking for "certain stories" to read alone. It was average life, until one day.
Someone appeared on the horizon, riding a crazy bike with a small wagon attached, filled with cans of spray paint, various wheeled vehicles, and a deconstructed lazy boy chair. He appeared to be wearing a black and white striped jacket, with the hood up. The strange person rolled right into the HQ, where Hama promptly greeted him. Meaning she jumped on him the second he stopped peddling.
"Hey! I thought you died! Are you here to visit? What's with all the stuff?" Hama had millions of questions, but none more so than the last.
"I'm here to stay. I cant live in the city any more. Something happened and... I just cant be there any more. Got any room for a strange guy in a gas mask?" Asked the currently homeless White Wolf.
"Well don't worry, you'll like it here. And we're all a little strange."