Category Archives: Speakeasy


In the span of a breath, everything changed. I was now standing tall and proud, my cape was billowing in the wind as I beheld the gleaming city. At last, I was there: Ollion, the bright star. After all my troubles, I had endured much to arrive here yet here was the city, stunning in the light of the sunrise, beautiful. But I had not come this far to stop now. I had heard that the doors only open to those worthy of it and I had every intention of outshining all those in the tents outside who had yet to prove their worth. On the way I had thought long and hard about what I would do but already I knew it would be spectacular.
The wind mumbled something: “tafeylapajkathr?”
The world around me begins to blur as I struggle to understand.
The gnarled tree next to me turn into long, hanging strands. Light, real light floods in as I try to open my eyes. My head is resting on my fist and my hair is a curtain hiding me from prying eyes. On my desk sits the annoyingly easy physics sheet that refuses to let me understand it and my pencil that I probably haven’t touched for at least 20 minutes.
“Hé! T’as fait la page quatre?”
Brain calibrating itself: new language: French. “Hey! Did you do page 4?”
I manage to murmur something back “Mmmm? Yeah, I just did this…” showing him the “v / c x h” I had scribbled onto my page 4.
“Oh ok.”
Time to work again. I was almost there though! Next time I’ll make it to the gate and show some awesome magic… unless someone wakes me up again first…
I keep staring at my page, willing it to make answers appear but incomprehensible it stays. It would appear that my magic powers have not developed enough in my dreams to be of use when I wake. So I pick up my pencil and look for answers. If magic worked like that, I suppose we’d all be terribly stupid anyway. Ah well… never mind. Next time maybe. Next time I’ll venture forth into the vast majestic city to discover the wonders that await me. I’m already near enough to the gates to make it through next time. In the meantime though, great physical questions need my answering. Farewell Dream-Me. Until next time.


I wanted to read the first book of Game of Thrones but someone had already taken it out so I decided to borrow The Picture of Dorian Gray instead and for the moment I have not been disappointed. The beauty of Oscar Wilde’s writing even in his preface is more than admirable. He chooses every word carefully to create beautiful sentences and good sense. He takes the reader exactly where he wants to and plays with us, describing the trees and clouds while two characters are deep in conversation this detaching us from it or making it seem less important and their words insincere.
Reading Wilde’s book (well, starting to read it) has made me understand a little better just how much I still have to learn, or how much I could learn. It’s a beautiful book (for the moment anyway) and it’s not that long if you don’t mind reading well structured, complicated and thoroughly thought out sentences all the way through.
I’ve just realised that I probably won’t be asked to read many books this year which gives me more time for books I actually want to read. I already have a list but if you have any good suggestions to throw at me go ahead 🙂

(Sorry if the icon doesn’t work but I have limited access to computers and it doesn’t show on mobile :/ )


Posted by on 1 October 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy


DS Speakeasy 179-Void

I’ve come to love the silence. Only out here in space can one enjoy such peace. Unfortunately, this peace was soon to be shattered. I had abandoned the unmanned resource satellites yesterday,  following the asteroid belt back to the colony. The empty void of space, the predictable, familiar mechanical hisses and clicks of my armoured suit were going to once again give way to the unpredictable chaos of the crowd, the overly natural environment, with its animals, and its trees, with branches trying to grab you, imposing themselves upon you. How could anyone like this? The colonies, they say, were built to provide a home for Earth’s growing population, attempting to reproduce a familiar environment in the process. If Earth is as noisy, chaotic, dirty, and unpredictable as the colony hub, then I’d much rather stick to spatial duties. Humans are horrible to be around. They’re all rude, and violent, and egocentric and….

… I need a break.

I cancelled out my mech’s velocity relative to the asteroid belt, put my helmet on, switched off the hydrogen core, and opened the hatch, letting myself float out into space, a mere cable holding me to the seat of my cockpit. The distant sun was illuminating the millions of rocks that composed the belt, the rays playing and dancing on the metal of my suit. I held my right hand in front of me. Four gloved fingers and a thumb were moving in my field of view. Deep breath. Why do I exist? Why are clones necessary to Humankind? They have too many people to start with, so why add more mouths to feed? Sure, we’re more adapted to 0-G environments, what with the fancy genetic augmentations and all, but why go through all the trouble of creating a new species? Why didn’t they just genetically modify some of their own people? Are they that lazy? Willing to create a new life form, just to avoid doing some dirty work?

I sighed. My HUD indicated me that I wasn’t supposed to be back at the spaceport for another six hours. The colony was very close. I was surprised it couldn’t be seen yet. Without thinking it through any further, I turned towards the sun, and let the vague sense of heat drift me to sleep…

…until a metallic click against my visor woke me up. Something bright and golden was spinning slowly right in front of me. A bullet casing. Startled, I swiped it away with my hand, only to realize I was surrounded with the little golden metal tubes. Hundreds of them, perhaps thousands, drifted all around me.

I felt my stomach drop. Something was horribly wrong. I returned to my mech, turned the main power on. It had been 1H since I last checked the time. Meanwhile, I had drifted closer to the colony, yet it was nowhere to be seen. My mech slowly burst to life. Screens turned on, engines revved, and electricity flowed. Music to my ears. After a few moments, the sensors went crazy. It seemed the asteroid belt was filled with huge chunks of metal and steel and organic matter where the colony should have been.

As I got closer, signs of battle became evident. Fragments of ships were drifting about, crushing asteroids in their wake. Mechs similar to mine were torn and lifeless, floating in the empty void of space. Soon, carcasses of skyscrapers and civilian homes floated about, dotting the sky with eerie images. As I got closer still, bodies started to appear. Some of them were disfigured, maimed and partially annihilated by the battle, but others were too well preserved, almost as if they were about to start moving again. Once I had reached what was supposed to be the heart of the colony, I had already seen horrors beyond count.

Where I stood, bits of plants, cars, buildings, and bodies were all too abundant. I stood there, wide eyed, looking at the still death that surrounded me, motionless, breathless. Something moved into my field of view. A tree. One of the elements of nature I had grown to resent, floating, leafless, through the remains of the colony. It was revolving slowly. After a few seconds, it had completed a semi rotation, revealing the woman whose body lay impaled by its branches…



First post in a while. Here, a somewhat sociopathic space colonist comes back from a mission, only to find his/her home destroyed. Definitely not my usual character! Comments appreciated!


Posted by on 16 September 2014 in Dragonspark, Speakeasy


Tags: , , ,

Words Left Behind

I’ve come to love the silence. I have long since stopped talking to myself. It has become a part of me. But it is never an empty silence, it is full of words scribbled on the wall, phrased scrawled across the the room. “Thomas Warlow 1981-“, “love is gone”, “all that you can’t leave behind:

“Things not to think about:
Nice food”
And then more: “to be wise you must first be a fool”, “there are no walls, this door is nought”, “I’ve come to love the silence”, “words are for the dead”…
And then there was a window, at first I couldn’t see much but as time grew by I saw mountains and lakes and a bright blue sky when I looked at it.I saw old trees as wise beings hunched from the weight of their knowledge and young innocent weightless girls dance by them. Outside, words of wisdom were scattered in the wind: “A wise man knows that he is foolish, he knows his advice is never absolute but it is always the least foolish thing he could think of. A wise man knows that he knows not much… A true wise man never calls himself wise, others do it for him.”
Foreign words on distant shores sprang out: “Il est interdit d’interdire”, “Errare humanum est”.
People call me The Madman. I no longer see these walls, there are no boundaries in my mind I am one with my cell and when finally I die as I know I will, it will keep me alive. “Words are for the dead”. The living have never as much use for their words as when they are dead. Because it is all that is left of who they once were.
Though my best words will always have their own wall, in front of the door, unmissable: “impossible is impossible”. A message for future tenants to ponder.
                                                            • † •
I was possessed, I killed a man in cold blood during a ritual people only do once in their lives. spirits possessed me and I gutted him like a pig, slaughtered his family and burned down his home. But this man had wronged me deeply and I had no part in what happened to him, my body tore him apart while my mind watched from the outside. I do not remember it well, it was dark and messy.
And so men came and took me away but I could not deny my body’s part in the act and so it was condemned to sit rotting in this cell as my mind roams free through the cement window. They say I am insane. I am starting to believe it.
Looking AT the window, it reminds me of a funny old film about two Americans and an Italian in jail: the Italian draws a window and says “do you say look at the window or look through the windows?” and one of the other guy says “I’m afraid in this case you’re looking at the window”.
I probably wont be able to answer to your comments this week (I’ll get to them as soon as possible), I barely got this up :/

Posted by on 16 September 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy



She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the stars. All she could see was his face. The way she’d gotten his trust, lured him out and rid the world of one more evil. Her purpose was to root out evil and put humans back on the right path. She had gone to this daemon, something they would call “vampire” and gained his trust until the day she convinced him to come outside. The Sun was rising and as soon as the light hit his face she saw his once bright eyes lose their lustre as his face become even paler. He was dead before his skin started to burn and there was no light in his bright blue eyes, she never knew daylight could be so violent!
Something had gone horribly wrong, she was supposed to purge the world but this man had not been the monster he was supposed to be; now that killing him was no longer taking up all her thoughts she realised that she had felt with him a closeness she had never experienced before and she knew then that she had been tainted. She tried to climb back to Heaven, the place with a thousand happy faces but she kept seeing his dead one with no light in those bright blue eyes and now she was stuck in that place between Heaven and Earth because she had pitied a man who deserved Hell. Now she vacillated between up or down, the world no longer making any sense. She had failed and now that she was no longer pure she must fall in turn. Her small hands no longer held on and her frail wings failed her as she plummeted, the long fall down to Earth made it impossible to think anything was real anymore. 
And yet, God decided to save her, and in a church so far down below choir boys gaped as they caught a falling angel…

………………………………… nolightnolightinyourbrightbleueyesineverknewdaylightcouldbesoviolent………………

Whoever chooses the music has good taste! And after having tried to sing “No Light No Light” I now respect Florence (and the machine but I’m not sure it sings) even more because I realised that the song is at that pitch between two voices (the quiet high one and the normal one, I know what they’re called in French but not in English) and she has a good control over her voice. I have already trained myself with “bring me to life” by Evanescence (which killed my voice after the first time I properly sang it) so I managed to sing this right after about three or four times; it’s never perfect though 🙂


Posted by on 8 September 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy


DS YW177- Shadow in the Snow

He waited for an hour, his hooded ear against the dusty wood. Around him, the abandoned Soviet library lay, filled with fragile bookshelves and still stacks of frozen paper, a solid block of concrete abandoned with many others in the middle of Siberia, an uncharted remnant of a dark era. The cold air sent shivers through his bones, shaking some of the frost off of his hair and teenage scruff. He held his trusted 9mm handgun tightly in his hand, a long silencer attached to the barrel. The bulletproof vest under the three layers of Alpine clothing wasn’t exactly comfy, and his patience was running out.

Suddenly, the heavy steel doors were thrown open, the loud metallic clang followed by heavy Russian voices. He grabbed his radio. “Delta here. The rat is in the den. Eagle clear to take-off,” he whispered. Deep breath. He checked his watch. Five minutes ‘till Eagle gets here.

A few seconds later, the metallic click of a briefcase hitting the ground resonated through the library. That’s the signal he was waiting for. Several months of investigation, all for that sound. He shut his eyes tightly, grabbed the detonator on the ground besides him, and squeezed the trigger…

… Thus detonating the intricate network of flash bangs laid throughout the library for maximum effect. Straight after the initial flash, he ran out of his cover, gun in hand, quickly spotting the eight people in the room, and sprinting towards the man with the briefcase handcuffed to his wrist, while placing two precise shots in the skulls of the men carrying the assault rifles. His close combat reflexes basically took over for the next seconds.

He threw a kick into the briefcase carrier’s bodyguard while reaching for the knife strapped to the back of his belt, tipping the still dazzled man onto the hard floor. He promptly thrust the cold steel into his primary target’s throat, and fired a bullet at the small chain to free the briefcase from the man’s arm. As soon as he held the precious cargo, he sprinted towards the heavy door. Two of the men had recovered from the flash bang, and had already taken aim at the dark figure scurrying through the bookshelves. The muzzle flashes illuminated flying sheets of paper, thrown into the air by the bullets flying past his chest. Too close for comfort.

He continued his sprint through the heavy doors, the floor alive with sparks from bullet impacts. The chase continued through the obscure, concrete halls of the Soviet complex. Having not prepared to be ambushed, the men hadn’t anticipated to give chase, and quickly found themselves isolated in the dark.

He knew this, and hid behind a corner, quietly catching his breath, waiting for the predator to become the prey, drawing the dagger once again form his belt. As soon as the first man appeared, he stabbed the blade into his temple, leaving the weapon in the falling corpse. Without waiting for his accomplice to recover from the unexpected attack, he ran towards the nearest window, and broke through the already fractured glass, falling into the crunchy snow bellow.

Quickly rising up from his fall, he ran out towards the edge of the abandoned town, putting the library’s entrance to his back. Hearing the door open, he stopped and turned around, hoping the dark would conceal his silhouette, only to find a well-aimed bullet grazing his right shoulder.

“Hands in the air!” One of the four men yelled at him in Russian. He complied, checking the time on his watch in doing so. It had been exactly 5min. He smiled inwardly. The man had started to ask who he was working for, but was interrupted mid-sentence by a blinding light from above, quickly followed by the chopping sound of rotors, which had until now been overpowered by the whistling wind.

As he resumed his escape, disappearing into the night, he heard the radio on his chest burst to life. “Eagle has landed. Over!” Despite himself, a smug grin appeared on his face. Even if he would get no credit in the official report, even if his jobs required him to take lives, satisfaction resonated throughout his being.

Now all that was left was a trek through the windy Siberian tundra to get to his extraction point…


Had to stay up very late at night to complete this one… Anyway, another spy story for this week. Hope you enjoyed. Comments appreciated!


Posted by on 2 September 2014 in Dragonspark, Speakeasy


Tags: ,

New Life

Everything hurt. All the muscles in my body, my eyes, my head, my bones and something different, that was hurting too. My head was ringing and the light was too bright and the absence of noise too loud. I coughed as a tube was removed from my throat and out of my mouth and then I was breathing on my own. It was rebirth. Except that I didn’t remember the first one, or anything after it. There was an emptiness in my head, a big gaping hole where I felt there should be something, anything. 

I was lying on a table, that’s the first thing I noticed (after the light and the silence). It felt like tables shouldn’t be meant for lying on. But I wasn’t sure… I waited for something to happen. Nothing happened. So I got up. That’s when I noticed some of me looked a certain way and the rest looked different. Some of me was pale, pink and soft, some of that had hair, my head, my arm… the rest of me was different. My right arm was almost all silver, it started on my shoulder a bit then took up most of the space from my shoulder to my elbow, all of the space from my elbow to my wrist and the back of my hand and fingers (no doubt including partly inside my hand too). On my right leg it started on the knee and covered all the way down my leg including my foot; my left leg was entirely robotic and this went up my side and stretched halfway across my skinny, flat chest. I felt like I was burning. I didn’t know my body. I didn’t know who I was. I still don’t know who I was. 

Some panels swivelled out of the way to reveal a flat screen in the wall.
“HELLO ADAM” said the green writing.
Suddenly I remembered speech.
“Who are you?” I asked, not angrily but curiously.
“I AM DAWN” answered the wall.
“Who am I?”
The line flashed a while before writing “YOU ARE ADAM”
I never got more than that. Ever.
“Where am I?” Deciding that if I couldn’t know who I was I might as well know where, if I could get a good answer.
Decidedly not I guessed (a good answer I mean, I didn’t doubt my safety much). Although I later learned that the place was in fact called SAFE, I don’t know if these are initials or just got caught up in the caps-lock that rules letters around there but I don’t much care for it. 

A rectangle of panels to my left danced away as a drawer slid out and DAWN (I’m not entirely sure if these are initials either, for all I know Adam might be ADAM and be initials too) explained:
There was white underwear (labeled “male” inside), baggy white cotton trousers (also labeled “male”) and a thin white t-shirt with long sleeves (“male”) which said ADAM neatly in red on the left. On the side of the drawer was a white watch with a black screen looking like a miniature DAWN and labeled ADAM on the bracelet. For the moment it only showed the time but something told me that wasn’t the only thing it did.

Once I had dressed the wall lit up again saying “THIS IS YOUR ROOM. COME BACK” and with that a door revealed itself behind more scurrying panels. Perplexed by that last message I momentarily forgot my pain and tried to walk, crashing into floor. The table beside me started sinking through the it and beneath me a bed came up. White, like everything.
“YOU ARE UNSTABLE” specified the informative wall, a little too late. 

• • •

My name is Adam, I am the perfect man, I can do jobs no-one else can, I now work for the American secret services and defence; not the CIA – the other one, the one people either cannot name or have been sworn to secrecy about, I work with my teammate Eve who, unlike me, remembers her past and will do anything to avenge the deaths she has seen. Together, we’re an ugly sight. But we’re the best you’ll ever find (if you do find us). We live SAFE. No-one could even get close to finding us in that maze of moving panels. And so, we’re pretty much invincible. Pretty damn proud of it too!…

* * *

Far off in the distance just outside the picture a woman cries out in the ruins of her city, looking for her son. His body was never found. 

………………………………………..tataratataterrificreturnofthecreaturewhohibernatesinsummerandjustdestroyedthemoodsheputyouin………………………… :/

I’m back! Yay! I have finally returned from the faraway places I went (which weren’t really that far by the way) to this thing of yeahwrite and caught up on a lot of stuff!
Ok so I had something I wanted to try this week. But that was before I saw the prompts. Absolutely not compatible with my idea! So I might try next week. In the meantime though I wrote this! I kind of ran out of time so instead of a proper story you can have a cyborg, I hope that works too. Shame on me for being late 😦

I’m glad to be back though and I’m looking forward to reading your amazing work 😀


Posted by on 27 August 2014 in Banzaï, Speakeasy


Tags: ,

DS YW176- Desolation

Everything hurt. It seemed every nerve in my body felt like the best way to hurry me back to consciousness was to scream pain at my brain. The cockpit was mostly intact, but the sheer strength of the impact is what got me. As I looked to my right, I notice my peripheral monitor was shattered. At least that explained why the right side of my body was covered in blood. Shrapnel is the bane of mechanised armour.

Heartbeat- slow. Pilot has regained consciousness.

I grunted as I sat back in my seat. No time to waste. I brought a status report of my mech up on the screen. Looks like I wasn’t the only one in bad shape. Hydraulics for the right leg were badly damaged, perhaps beyond repair. The left arm was basically torn off. Thrusters won’t be able to reach maximum efficiency. At least there were no leaks. Thank god there were no leaks.

As far as weapons went, my rifle was god knows where, my assault knives forgotten in the armoury during the scramble, and my magnum was low on ammo. The only weapons that were still fully operational were the wrist mounted light machine guns. Talk about firepower. I turned on the main camera, grabbed the joysticks, and powered my robotic armoured suit back to life. I felt my eyes widen, as the rest of my body froze in a mix of surprise and terror. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t turned the camera on. To say the moon base was annihilated would have been an understatement. Those bastards took a whole chunk of the moon with them. All that was left of the sprawling military complex was a couple floating rocks. In the lunar sky, cadavers of ships where slowly drifting down to the surface. Hundreds, if not thousands of destroyed mechs lay on the surface, lifeless. A quick glimpse at the comms told me I had lost the signal of all my squad, including Commander Carter, as well as mission HQ. The sensors couldn’t pick up a friendly signal for hundreds of kilometre. I had been very lucky.

Heartbeat- normal. Pilot focused.

I threw my mech into combat speed, pushing what was left of the thrusters to their limit. Unable to achieve flight, I found myself leaping from crater to crater, some of them eons old, some very recent. I was headed for the equatorial comms relay. Earth had to know something had attacked us, clearly with the intent of leaving no survivors. They had taken us by surprise, and had the ability to do so again. The distance to cross was phenomenal, but despite missing some thrust, space armours were fast. The sophisticated inertial dampeners and the genetic modifications I had received at birth easily allowed me to surpass sonic speed, without turning me into a milkshake.

Heartbeat- fast. Adrenaline levels rising

The situation didn’t improve though. As I got further away from the battle field, the sky began to clear. The Earth was piercing the horizon. My sensors were able to extend their reach, no longer impeded by the leftovers of the battle. Quickly, my radar started to send alerts to me. I was picking up a number of large heat sources between me and the Earth. I focused my sensors on it. The image appeared on my screen. My blood froze in my veins.

Thousands, if not tens of thousands of huge ships doted the sky, their silhouette invisible without a filter. They were headed to earth at battle speed. Their architecture wasn’t earth-like. They could not have been built under the constraints of gravity. This wasn’t a rebellion from the colonies. No. This was a full-fledged invasion force.



Man what a great summer. It’s good to be back, though. To start the school year off with a bang, here is a quick sci-fi piece, stepping away from the action heavy pieces and trying something a bit more on the descriptive end of the spectrum. Hope you enjoyed! Comments, criticism, random thoughts, and advice is welcome!


Posted by on 25 August 2014 in Dragonspark, Speakeasy


Tags: , , , ,