(Now boys and girls, I'm going through another rocky section on the road of
life right now, so don't be surprised if I don't update for a while again.
But anyway, in this Chapter, Tiff really will be joining the scene. I know,
I know. . . I promised I would put her in the 10th chapter . . . well, I
forgot. Sorry. But she'll be here now, and we'll be revealing the identity
of Masadona's other patients, as if you brilliant readers out there didn't
already know who they were. But read on, enjoy, and please, PLEASE review.)
"Who am I?" Repeated the person to my right. He sounded taken aback. "Oh, yeah, you couldn't possibly have recognized me . . ." I stared at his dark, muddy eyes. A very strange, unique spark shined there . . . I knew right then who he had to be. I rushed forward to embrace him like a brother. He returned the sentiment. "It's you!" I cried out joyfully. "It's you, Garther!" I turned to the other guy, and hugged him also. "Hey Cinsta!" I cried. He laughed with me.
(For those of you who can't remember, Garther and Cinsta are Magnum's best friend. You may have to go back a few chapters if you want to see them before, though I don't really describe them.)
"You look so different," I told them. Garther agreed. "Yeah, Masadona here had to totally rebuild on us. When Marthen found us, we were good as dead . . . totally torn apart. She pretty much had to start from scratch."
Cinsta nodded his head in agreement. "Hey, are you guys stuck like that?" I asked. Garther sighed.
"No, thank goodness. We're just really 'soft and vulnerable' right now, and have to wear this stuff until the nano-bots finish constructing our new forms. We won't look so different than what we were originally once they're done."
Masadona nodded, her silvery, sapphire tinted hair floating with the motion. I sighed silently with a wondering, uncertain love. "Yeah, but its going to take a while. . . at least a good couple of months. And you two have to rest A LOT."
I was glad that they were going to be OK, but a horrible thought invaded my mind. If Garther and Cinsta, a couple of Kirby's best students, had been torn to shreds, what had happened to the rest of the class? And Samarra, my surrogate grandmother . . . my family flashed through my head, in the form of a photograph from a couple years back. . .
(Tuff stood in the middle, tall and proud, along with a small, happy looking Magnum whom was sitting on his shoulders. Next to them, laughing cheerily, was Claris: Her coarse black hair was being blown into her face, tickling her and causing her eyes to sparkle. On Tuff's other side was Samarra, still dressed in a starchy, stiff white dress and hair neatly tied up. None of her was being even slightly moved by the wind. Slightly in front of her was a slightly embarrassed looking Kirby, who was trying to rub away a scuffmark. Over all, it was a pretty bad picture. . . But in the corner, Off to the side, was some one that Magnum almost didn't recall. . . His aunt, Tiff . . .)
I suddenly had to find her. If any one knew what was going on, it would be auntie Tiff. She had served as a reconnaissance worker during the war, using hidden camera's to monitor enemy activity. She had cameras all over Popstar, and a few in space. She traveled regularly to maintain them, for they still stayed in use. But I wondered. . . If Auntie Tiff were still doing OK, wouldn't she have seen this ship coming? Wouldn't she have seen NME rebuilding the Castle fortress? WOULDN'T SHE HAVE WARNED US? I began to worry. Something had happened. . .
"Marthen," I murmured. "I really need you to take me some where . . ." he looked at me steadily. "Where?"
"On the other side of the mountain," I said, "My aunt has a house full of monitors. She always knew what was going on. But I think something may have happened . . . We need to find her." Marthen thought heavily. "Would your aunt, by any slight chance, be named Tiff?"
I looked at him, absolutely amazed. "How did you know?" I asked. He told me quickly. "During the war, we not only got radio transmissions, but transmissions from TV's, and certain Cameras. We received several useful Signals from one satellite on the eastern side of these mountains, but we didn't know who they were coming from . . . Until the sender, a female, tried to contact us from the same location. She said her name was Tiff, but the signal was cut. She was good with visual, but not that talented with audio. We weren't able to contact her again, though we continued to get useful footage."
"That makes sense." I said. But Marthen had already run eagerly to the bridge. I suppose he was anxious to meet the source of so much information in the war.
................................
The man (who turned out to be named Cassias) at the wheel had a very hard time landing the ship on the other side of the mountain. I could understand, seeing as how there were so many big rocks here, and trees. But he managed. Because Aunt Tiffany had her house so close to the base of the eastern side of the mountain, it wasn't hard to find her cottage in the hot morning light.
(To minimize confusion, consider Magnums surgery: when they first picked him up, it was only a while after moonrise, and I never said what time Magnum found his desecrated mother. It is very much mid-early morning.)
I was the first to approach the house. "Auntie Tiff?" I called loudly. I panicked. Why was there no response? I knocked, and pulled back as the door swung open. Papers and CD's lied all across the floors, along with VideoCassettes, and audio taped. Recording equipment hissed and whined, and whispered their ever going mechanical burps and beeps. I called one last time. "AUNTIE TIFF!" Masadona's hand grasped my arm. "Maybe she's out right now. . ." she whispered.
"Out my foot," came a snappish remark from beneath our feet. "If you two, and I don't know who you think you are tramping around in my house, would move, then I'd like to get OUT of HERE!" The floor beneath us rattled, and we jumped aside. The threadbare rug was shoved aside as my Aunt pushed her way out of a small trap door.
A quick glimpse past her revealed a completely different house, full of expensive looking (yet probably home made) equipment and comfterbale furnishings. A foul tempered Tiff looked at me curiously, with her arms akimbo (for you who don't know what that means, it refers to something like "hands on the hips." Thank you.)
She seemed to recognize me. "Ahhhh!" She cried. "My brother's boy! Maggie, Mathew, no. . ." I broke in. "Ma-" "No, no, no, don't tell me . . . Oh yes, Magnum!" She hugged me heartily. "And who is this?" She asked, smiling at Masadona. She introduced herself.
"Oh Magnum," Said Aunt Tiffany, "I was wondering when you were going to start dating. I was talking to Tuff a while ago, and he said that that girl, Anastasia like you. I thought you were going with her?"
I blushed horrendously. "Auntie," I hissed. "She is not my girlfriend. And neither is Masadona!" Masadona ruffled my hair playfully. "Of course I'm your girl friend, you handsome you!" I scowled sarcastically, but inwardly I was glowing with happiness (even if she was just playing around).
We all shuffled back outside. Tiff squinted in the sudden light. "Argh," she muttered. "It's been so long since I've been in bright light like this . . ." Marthen, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, swept her off her feet. "If it bothers you, then let me take you inside our ship!" I was afraid that she was going to get angry, but she laughed giddily. Masadona ruffled my hair again, and put her arm around my shoulder. WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON?!
Aunt Tiff explained to us that her hiding in the lower, hidden rooms was a necessity. Her cameras warned her of approaching Forces, and so she had gathered all her important recordings and things and carried them downstairs. She locked the trap door after her. NME's new troops had left only the night before, after tearing the place apart and destroying her only long-range satellite. Most of her useful connections had been cut off as of that.
The entire time, I noticed with some slightly confused yet malicious pleasure at the way Mandela jealously stared at me . . . And Masadona, who remained close to me, even when seated. I was no longer sure if she was still playing around.
I mean, she'd surely seen me naked, while surgery I mean. I'm nothing special, but years of sword training makes for a rather nice physique . . . "nah," I told myself. If she were going for looks, she would have fallen for Mandela long before my arrival into her life. Besides, she didn't seem that shallow. But maybe . . . Well, lets just say I don't believe in love at first sight. Usually. But back to what was going on . . .
(Well, there you go. This one was a rather normal sized chapter, was it not? And I just had to end it there . . . too bad. . . Don't worry. Despite what I said in the beginning, I'll try to update soon. Also, personal to babycharmander: I'm trying, but I don't like to force ideals on people. I like making readers use their imaginations. Either that, or I'm just lazy. Either one works for me. R/R!)
"Who am I?" Repeated the person to my right. He sounded taken aback. "Oh, yeah, you couldn't possibly have recognized me . . ." I stared at his dark, muddy eyes. A very strange, unique spark shined there . . . I knew right then who he had to be. I rushed forward to embrace him like a brother. He returned the sentiment. "It's you!" I cried out joyfully. "It's you, Garther!" I turned to the other guy, and hugged him also. "Hey Cinsta!" I cried. He laughed with me.
(For those of you who can't remember, Garther and Cinsta are Magnum's best friend. You may have to go back a few chapters if you want to see them before, though I don't really describe them.)
"You look so different," I told them. Garther agreed. "Yeah, Masadona here had to totally rebuild on us. When Marthen found us, we were good as dead . . . totally torn apart. She pretty much had to start from scratch."
Cinsta nodded his head in agreement. "Hey, are you guys stuck like that?" I asked. Garther sighed.
"No, thank goodness. We're just really 'soft and vulnerable' right now, and have to wear this stuff until the nano-bots finish constructing our new forms. We won't look so different than what we were originally once they're done."
Masadona nodded, her silvery, sapphire tinted hair floating with the motion. I sighed silently with a wondering, uncertain love. "Yeah, but its going to take a while. . . at least a good couple of months. And you two have to rest A LOT."
I was glad that they were going to be OK, but a horrible thought invaded my mind. If Garther and Cinsta, a couple of Kirby's best students, had been torn to shreds, what had happened to the rest of the class? And Samarra, my surrogate grandmother . . . my family flashed through my head, in the form of a photograph from a couple years back. . .
(Tuff stood in the middle, tall and proud, along with a small, happy looking Magnum whom was sitting on his shoulders. Next to them, laughing cheerily, was Claris: Her coarse black hair was being blown into her face, tickling her and causing her eyes to sparkle. On Tuff's other side was Samarra, still dressed in a starchy, stiff white dress and hair neatly tied up. None of her was being even slightly moved by the wind. Slightly in front of her was a slightly embarrassed looking Kirby, who was trying to rub away a scuffmark. Over all, it was a pretty bad picture. . . But in the corner, Off to the side, was some one that Magnum almost didn't recall. . . His aunt, Tiff . . .)
I suddenly had to find her. If any one knew what was going on, it would be auntie Tiff. She had served as a reconnaissance worker during the war, using hidden camera's to monitor enemy activity. She had cameras all over Popstar, and a few in space. She traveled regularly to maintain them, for they still stayed in use. But I wondered. . . If Auntie Tiff were still doing OK, wouldn't she have seen this ship coming? Wouldn't she have seen NME rebuilding the Castle fortress? WOULDN'T SHE HAVE WARNED US? I began to worry. Something had happened. . .
"Marthen," I murmured. "I really need you to take me some where . . ." he looked at me steadily. "Where?"
"On the other side of the mountain," I said, "My aunt has a house full of monitors. She always knew what was going on. But I think something may have happened . . . We need to find her." Marthen thought heavily. "Would your aunt, by any slight chance, be named Tiff?"
I looked at him, absolutely amazed. "How did you know?" I asked. He told me quickly. "During the war, we not only got radio transmissions, but transmissions from TV's, and certain Cameras. We received several useful Signals from one satellite on the eastern side of these mountains, but we didn't know who they were coming from . . . Until the sender, a female, tried to contact us from the same location. She said her name was Tiff, but the signal was cut. She was good with visual, but not that talented with audio. We weren't able to contact her again, though we continued to get useful footage."
"That makes sense." I said. But Marthen had already run eagerly to the bridge. I suppose he was anxious to meet the source of so much information in the war.
................................
The man (who turned out to be named Cassias) at the wheel had a very hard time landing the ship on the other side of the mountain. I could understand, seeing as how there were so many big rocks here, and trees. But he managed. Because Aunt Tiffany had her house so close to the base of the eastern side of the mountain, it wasn't hard to find her cottage in the hot morning light.
(To minimize confusion, consider Magnums surgery: when they first picked him up, it was only a while after moonrise, and I never said what time Magnum found his desecrated mother. It is very much mid-early morning.)
I was the first to approach the house. "Auntie Tiff?" I called loudly. I panicked. Why was there no response? I knocked, and pulled back as the door swung open. Papers and CD's lied all across the floors, along with VideoCassettes, and audio taped. Recording equipment hissed and whined, and whispered their ever going mechanical burps and beeps. I called one last time. "AUNTIE TIFF!" Masadona's hand grasped my arm. "Maybe she's out right now. . ." she whispered.
"Out my foot," came a snappish remark from beneath our feet. "If you two, and I don't know who you think you are tramping around in my house, would move, then I'd like to get OUT of HERE!" The floor beneath us rattled, and we jumped aside. The threadbare rug was shoved aside as my Aunt pushed her way out of a small trap door.
A quick glimpse past her revealed a completely different house, full of expensive looking (yet probably home made) equipment and comfterbale furnishings. A foul tempered Tiff looked at me curiously, with her arms akimbo (for you who don't know what that means, it refers to something like "hands on the hips." Thank you.)
She seemed to recognize me. "Ahhhh!" She cried. "My brother's boy! Maggie, Mathew, no. . ." I broke in. "Ma-" "No, no, no, don't tell me . . . Oh yes, Magnum!" She hugged me heartily. "And who is this?" She asked, smiling at Masadona. She introduced herself.
"Oh Magnum," Said Aunt Tiffany, "I was wondering when you were going to start dating. I was talking to Tuff a while ago, and he said that that girl, Anastasia like you. I thought you were going with her?"
I blushed horrendously. "Auntie," I hissed. "She is not my girlfriend. And neither is Masadona!" Masadona ruffled my hair playfully. "Of course I'm your girl friend, you handsome you!" I scowled sarcastically, but inwardly I was glowing with happiness (even if she was just playing around).
We all shuffled back outside. Tiff squinted in the sudden light. "Argh," she muttered. "It's been so long since I've been in bright light like this . . ." Marthen, who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, swept her off her feet. "If it bothers you, then let me take you inside our ship!" I was afraid that she was going to get angry, but she laughed giddily. Masadona ruffled my hair again, and put her arm around my shoulder. WHAT THE HECK WAS GOING ON?!
Aunt Tiff explained to us that her hiding in the lower, hidden rooms was a necessity. Her cameras warned her of approaching Forces, and so she had gathered all her important recordings and things and carried them downstairs. She locked the trap door after her. NME's new troops had left only the night before, after tearing the place apart and destroying her only long-range satellite. Most of her useful connections had been cut off as of that.
The entire time, I noticed with some slightly confused yet malicious pleasure at the way Mandela jealously stared at me . . . And Masadona, who remained close to me, even when seated. I was no longer sure if she was still playing around.
I mean, she'd surely seen me naked, while surgery I mean. I'm nothing special, but years of sword training makes for a rather nice physique . . . "nah," I told myself. If she were going for looks, she would have fallen for Mandela long before my arrival into her life. Besides, she didn't seem that shallow. But maybe . . . Well, lets just say I don't believe in love at first sight. Usually. But back to what was going on . . .
(Well, there you go. This one was a rather normal sized chapter, was it not? And I just had to end it there . . . too bad. . . Don't worry. Despite what I said in the beginning, I'll try to update soon. Also, personal to babycharmander: I'm trying, but I don't like to force ideals on people. I like making readers use their imaginations. Either that, or I'm just lazy. Either one works for me. R/R!)