Hey kids.I know it's been a while since I posted on this story and I
apologize. I've been really sick and as a result I just haven't had time to
post or write more of this story.I really appreciate all you comments they
have been wonderful!! But since I've been sick I didn't want to leave this
in limbo so my dear friend Natasha Bennett has agreed to finish it for me!!
(isn't she swell!) so the next part and all the rest is her!! Feel free to
leave her some wonderful comments as she is a great kid. we have written
together in the past and I just love all her stories!
Thanks Again!!
Parisindy
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tyr and Harper sprinted silently across the desert. Day had settled into dusk and it was bitterly cold. They were now on the outskirts of the Nietzschean village. By then Harper was wondering where they were going. Then he saw. They had arrived at a small...very small shack. If it could be called that. It wasn't so much of a house as rather boards being piled on top of each other with some kind of animal skins that smelled awful. "Man, on Earth we had to build and tear down refugee camps from scrap within seconds and they still looked better then that," Harper had to say. "Nietzscheans have little patience for house design," Tyr replied. "If you had genetic importance, you would have slaves build you a palace. If you were an outcast, you had the rather occupying distraction of plotting the bitter downfall of all your opponents and so-called friends who stuck a knife in your back." Harper put his hands in his pockets. "So you say you know this woman?" "Yes. I was her friend," Tyr said. Without another word he strode up to the front door and knocked. The door (if it could be called that) opened, and a woman peered at them. She had long red hair set in braids, with dark green eyes and a low-cut blouse to match the color. She had leather pants, leather gloves and bulging muscles. Harper's eyes lit up the way they always did whenever he saw an incredibly attractive woman. "Why, hello-" The woman's flat palm connected with his nose. With an indignant squawk Harper went flying backwards into the sand. The woman drew her pistol from its hoister and charged it towards Tyr's chest. Tyr reached forewords and forced the gun upwards. With a snarl the woman's hand slashed downwards. Tyr's head recoiled backwards, five horizontal cuts across his cheek. Tyr made a low growl, deep in his throat and shoved the woman backwards. Her back hit sharply against a beam and the entire hut trembled. Tyr's hand was gripping her throat. Angrily the woman spat definitely at his face. Her lip was bleeding. Tyr reached forewords...and kissed her. It was a long, passionate kiss that lasted several minutes. Slowly, the woman's gloved hand lifted upwards and caressed Tyr's face. 'Nietzscheans,' Harper thought in disgust. He decided that it might be a good idea to patrol the perimeter of the hut for a while. He touched his broken nose, and flicked the blood down towards the sand. "Dammit!" he swore.
The woman finally separated from Tyr. "Who's the Kludge?" she asked. "No one of importance," Tyr said indifferently. "They all look the same to me," the woman said. She smiled. "It's been too long." "You were trying to kill me," Tyr said. "You're working for the Drago- Kazov." "With the Drago-Kazov," the woman corrected. "And if I had actually succeeded then you would have deserved to die. You're not as weak as they say. Not quite, anyway." She reached forewords and gripped his neck. "How strong you are still has yet to be proven..." Her hand tightened. Tyr gripped her heavily muscled arm and pried her arm loose. "I am still as strong as I was before. Even stronger." The woman smiled and lit a candle with a match. "They say that the Kodiaks consorted with lesser forms of life. And now you are consorting with humans and Magog. Are you sure it's fire that runs through your veins?" "Don't test me, woman," Tyr said. "And what if I do?" the woman asked with a smile on her face. A low growl responded in Tyr's throat as he drew her close. ********************* Later Tyr stepped outside the hut. Beyond him was darkness, and a bitter cold that even his Nietzschean skin could not suppress. He looked left and right. "Harper?" he said. No reply. He pumped his fist. So help him, if the boy had run off...... "Yeah?" a voice replied. Tyr glanced up, and saw Harper sitting on the roof of the small hut. To give him credit, Tyr's enhanced hearing had not heard him do so. But then, Tyr reluctantly supposed, one did not live on a barren wasteland of burning junk without learning a few tricks. Tyr stayed on the ground, not trusting the weight of the rotten beams to support both of them. "What are you doing there?" "Looking," Harper replied. He was holding a pair of binoculars. "Looks like some of your fan club are coming this way, Tyr. Fast. They'll be here in about half an hour, looks like." Tyr thought for a minute. "We'll dig sand traps, make burrows for us to ambush them." Harper handed him the binoculars. "Are you sure that...ah, we can trust bulging babe?" Tyr touched his lip. "Yes," he said. Harper was not entirely convinced. "How do you know? I mean, who is she, exactly?" Tyr said nothing for a moment. "Her name is Serena Bone Char by Ambrosia pride. She was next in line for the throne of the Drago-Kazov people by blood right. Now she's here." Harper blinked. "And she's now an outcast in some nameless waste filth? Wow, she must have done something pretty bad to be busted down to that level." "Yes," Tyr said. Silence. "Well, what was it?" More silence. "She knew me," Tyr finally replied. He shook his head. "She may be able to provide us with the answers we seek before our friends arrive."
TBC
Parisindy
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tyr and Harper sprinted silently across the desert. Day had settled into dusk and it was bitterly cold. They were now on the outskirts of the Nietzschean village. By then Harper was wondering where they were going. Then he saw. They had arrived at a small...very small shack. If it could be called that. It wasn't so much of a house as rather boards being piled on top of each other with some kind of animal skins that smelled awful. "Man, on Earth we had to build and tear down refugee camps from scrap within seconds and they still looked better then that," Harper had to say. "Nietzscheans have little patience for house design," Tyr replied. "If you had genetic importance, you would have slaves build you a palace. If you were an outcast, you had the rather occupying distraction of plotting the bitter downfall of all your opponents and so-called friends who stuck a knife in your back." Harper put his hands in his pockets. "So you say you know this woman?" "Yes. I was her friend," Tyr said. Without another word he strode up to the front door and knocked. The door (if it could be called that) opened, and a woman peered at them. She had long red hair set in braids, with dark green eyes and a low-cut blouse to match the color. She had leather pants, leather gloves and bulging muscles. Harper's eyes lit up the way they always did whenever he saw an incredibly attractive woman. "Why, hello-" The woman's flat palm connected with his nose. With an indignant squawk Harper went flying backwards into the sand. The woman drew her pistol from its hoister and charged it towards Tyr's chest. Tyr reached forewords and forced the gun upwards. With a snarl the woman's hand slashed downwards. Tyr's head recoiled backwards, five horizontal cuts across his cheek. Tyr made a low growl, deep in his throat and shoved the woman backwards. Her back hit sharply against a beam and the entire hut trembled. Tyr's hand was gripping her throat. Angrily the woman spat definitely at his face. Her lip was bleeding. Tyr reached forewords...and kissed her. It was a long, passionate kiss that lasted several minutes. Slowly, the woman's gloved hand lifted upwards and caressed Tyr's face. 'Nietzscheans,' Harper thought in disgust. He decided that it might be a good idea to patrol the perimeter of the hut for a while. He touched his broken nose, and flicked the blood down towards the sand. "Dammit!" he swore.
The woman finally separated from Tyr. "Who's the Kludge?" she asked. "No one of importance," Tyr said indifferently. "They all look the same to me," the woman said. She smiled. "It's been too long." "You were trying to kill me," Tyr said. "You're working for the Drago- Kazov." "With the Drago-Kazov," the woman corrected. "And if I had actually succeeded then you would have deserved to die. You're not as weak as they say. Not quite, anyway." She reached forewords and gripped his neck. "How strong you are still has yet to be proven..." Her hand tightened. Tyr gripped her heavily muscled arm and pried her arm loose. "I am still as strong as I was before. Even stronger." The woman smiled and lit a candle with a match. "They say that the Kodiaks consorted with lesser forms of life. And now you are consorting with humans and Magog. Are you sure it's fire that runs through your veins?" "Don't test me, woman," Tyr said. "And what if I do?" the woman asked with a smile on her face. A low growl responded in Tyr's throat as he drew her close. ********************* Later Tyr stepped outside the hut. Beyond him was darkness, and a bitter cold that even his Nietzschean skin could not suppress. He looked left and right. "Harper?" he said. No reply. He pumped his fist. So help him, if the boy had run off...... "Yeah?" a voice replied. Tyr glanced up, and saw Harper sitting on the roof of the small hut. To give him credit, Tyr's enhanced hearing had not heard him do so. But then, Tyr reluctantly supposed, one did not live on a barren wasteland of burning junk without learning a few tricks. Tyr stayed on the ground, not trusting the weight of the rotten beams to support both of them. "What are you doing there?" "Looking," Harper replied. He was holding a pair of binoculars. "Looks like some of your fan club are coming this way, Tyr. Fast. They'll be here in about half an hour, looks like." Tyr thought for a minute. "We'll dig sand traps, make burrows for us to ambush them." Harper handed him the binoculars. "Are you sure that...ah, we can trust bulging babe?" Tyr touched his lip. "Yes," he said. Harper was not entirely convinced. "How do you know? I mean, who is she, exactly?" Tyr said nothing for a moment. "Her name is Serena Bone Char by Ambrosia pride. She was next in line for the throne of the Drago-Kazov people by blood right. Now she's here." Harper blinked. "And she's now an outcast in some nameless waste filth? Wow, she must have done something pretty bad to be busted down to that level." "Yes," Tyr said. Silence. "Well, what was it?" More silence. "She knew me," Tyr finally replied. He shook his head. "She may be able to provide us with the answers we seek before our friends arrive."
TBC
