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Madness of the SoldierThe soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Treading the line of his sanity,
Kill or be killed, all he'd been taught,
"Your job is not to think!"
The soldier stood, on the brink of despair;
The devil and demons for company,
Grenades and bullets - the life he chose,
Tanks and RPGs.
The soldier stood, conflicted inside;
Searching his soul for the truth,
One man's hero, another's paraiah,
Ordered to die for the "good of the nation".
The soldier stood, thinking of home;
Of safety, of love, of comfort and warmth,
Of farcical laws, domestic troubles,
Petulant squabbles and false self-importance.
The soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Dancing a jig with his madness,
Visions of pain, destruction and chaos,
Crawling like insects inside of his head,
The soldier gave in,
By no mortal enemy;
Slain by his consciousness.
Empire of Terra IIntroduction
Three thousand years have passed since mankind first reached for the stars. The Terran Empire, under the leadership of the King, spans across fourteen star-systems. However, resources are short, and the Empire's law enforcement is buckling under the strain of so many worlds. Alien races have both helped and hindered, but the result remains the same. The edges of the Empire are heavily defended, as is the centre, but there is a band of absolute lawlessness in between. This is known as the Open Space. Law Enforcement does exist out there, it's true, but where it does it is beaurocratic and corrupt. Many bands of mercenaries, pirates, thieves, gangs and pretty much the dregs of the galaxy thrive in the Open Space. An effort has just been launched to stamp down on all of this crime, as it has grown to such proportions that it is de-stabilising the infrastructure of the Empire, and enemies of the Terrans have begun to mass on its borders.
The leader of the first segment in this
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More