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Literature Text
CHAPTER 1 - SMELL A RAT
suthnmeh:
Something always smells in the district. Litter and rotting pieces of pig carcass thrown about are the obvious reason. Something always smells not necessarily in the literal sense too. There's the occasional neighborhood murder; a neighbor, there one day, suddenly gone the next, detained perhaps.
But today something really reeks. The stench is revolting even to the poleepkwa, already stirring in their shacks, ready to face the challenge of a new day; most unready for the sight and smell of the carcass rotting away among a heap of trash, giving out a sort of chemical odor even the flies avoid.
The fellow is but a chunk of blackened meat, grotesquely mutilated, missing entire areas of his carapace. How he'd even made it half-way under the wire fence, not out of, but into the district, in his condition was beyond belief. Nobody that night had heard him scratch the dirt, trying to crawl free of the stinging wire. He lay there with his arms outstretched, as if reaching out for his home which, the neighbors knew, was just around the corner from his deathbed and had been empty for the last couple of weeks. It had been no surprise, really, as troublesome gangsters disappeared all the time, whether arrested or simply killed by his own in a score settle.
His human-given name was John Young, and something so terrible happened to him that he was desperate to get back in the boiling chaos that is District 9.
~NaviTransformerFan
If Kelly thought that this morning could be bad, as can be quite common in the district, then nothing could've prepared her for this........ This atrocity that greeted Pleepkwas on that morning, the horrific display of utter cruelty.
The tall, dark-colored Poleepkwa had been up and about for the last couple of minutes, and the stench, the stench, made something inside her stir, something which could only be defined as worry and dread. For mixed in this stench was the familiar aroma of a fellow Poleepkwa.
<Mama? Wh-What is that smell?> Came a series of sleepy clicks from behind her. The towering alien partially turned around, bright yellow eyes falling on the form of her young, adopted son, going by the name Ian, and who seems to have just woken up.
<I don't know, sweetheart.> Is what she clicked back with her deeper tone of voice. She sounded gentle, as any Poleepkwan parent would sound, but her nerves were lightly locked-up with dread, and her antennae were faintly jerking back and forth, the movements frantic enough to tell of what she feels. She was fairly sure that she was far more worried than most of the other Poleepkwas here, no matter how unified their race is, because her genes, her genes inherited from her father, her father who was the General of the Poleepkwan Armada, they are the main cause of this worry, worry for fellow non-humans.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 19, 2011
The voices circulate really fast in the District 9 and very soon Kiri knew all. While he's staring at the poor, twisted carcass, the blue Poleepkwa seems so calm and cool, but his mind is like a fury storm.
<Did I know you?> He whispers to the poor remains, ignoring the bad smell in the air, <Did I fight with you for food?> but most of all, who did THIS to him?
The Nigerians? No, it isn't their style: they use all the Poleepkwa's body... their leader has a weakness for their meat, the warrior knew it.
A civil? No they are too coward to enter in the District, especially with a dead alien!
There is only one probable guilty for this atrocity.
The MNU.
<Damn meat sacks!> He growls. Only a rapid antenna contraction is the only sign of his rage.
He turns over and goes away.
Someone has to pay for this, and he knows a perfect Poleepkwa for his plan.
Jericho.
~Adne Dec 19, 2011
when Emma drove on her bike to work that morning she was angry with herself. she overslept and because of that she really had to peddle hard to get on time.
halfway though, when she came close to District 9 where she had to pass by each day to go the little coffee joint she noticed something odd, a strange smell was hanging in the air and she didn't like it. somehow her curiosity got the better of her again so she slowed down to take a look when she saw a small group of humans and Poleepkwa's standing near a gate.when she saw the body, fear overtook her, who was that? and why is he dead? after puking at least twice she jumped back on her bike and speeded over to the PoHA club dreading that it might be one of her new friends.
hen she finally got there and had gone inside of the garden, she fell to her trembling knees and started to cry, to scared to actually go in and see if someone was not there...
~Scee-Kel Dec 20, 2011
The first thing Ferdinand noticed upon awakening was the smell. He'd grown used to the lingering stench of life in the District, but the new atrocity assaulting his senses wasn't normal in the least. As is the nature of anything new that could initially be that bad, it stirred up concern in Ferdinand, who had his antennae pressed up against his head to help ward off the stench.
"<What is that?>" he mumbled confusedly as he stumbled outside. The smell was a little stronger outside of his shack, but it was due to proximity, not something blocking the odor. He blinked a couple times to help his vision adjust to the already bright light, and once he did, he could see a figure standing by the corpse. "Ah...excuse me? Do you know what's going on?>"
~scwartzwald Dec 20, 2011
Inside the helicopter, High above the city; Jacob awakes from an hour-long, high-altitude slumber. His pager buzzes and in-vehicle sirens shake him away from the isle of dreams and back to the harsh reality he knows all too well. Spat from peace, the happy dream, to the dread of that endless, aching thing...the thorns lining the sacred crown of life: War.
*kkkh--k* "Jacob! Wake up, the break's over." The voice barks through the speakers. To this, however, he was happy to comply.
<On it, Sir.> He clicked back as his eyes narrowed with anticipation. The voice continued to brief the little soldier as he armored up.
"You'll be touching down in District 9 in 90 seconds. There's violent criminal action being exchanged amid the shacks with possible insurrection activity. Once you're there, find the sector, find the building, find a way in and take down their operation. Force authorized. You see any other criminal activity down there, you're on your own."
<Understood.>
The chopper soared over the walls of the district, and from it's open doors Jacob could see as African highway and tall mountain grass quickly became an massive, burgeoning land of slum and filthy shacks. Twenty seconds of eying the lands as they came up to meet him, they had moved in close enough and come to the drop-off point. The chopper hovered at minimum safety distance of eighty feet off the ground. This was it.
"MARK!"
And like every mission, Smith jumped from the aircraft, and landed with uncanny, furious grace. The ground cracking just a bit under his toes.
Let the mission begin.
~Dracontar Dec 20, 2011
A Nissan Titan strolls through the relatively packed streets of the city, its owner slouching onto the door, breathing in a thick whiff of charred burgers and steaming fries. After losing her smell again to a thick layer of mucus clogging her nose, Amanda is reminded why she had decided earlier to call in a replacement at work. The butterflies in her stomach still dog her like a tumor about ready to burst, but she ignores it; one damn day isn't going to make a big difference.
The drive itself proves uneventful; another morning in the City, with the sun's light casting an orange curtain over the dark sky. There is plenty enough light out that streets are filling with honks and shouts, and vendors cooking dinner for their breakfast specials. But hell, Amanda can be more productive, at least, if she checks with her friends first. A very particular concern jogs her out of morning haze, and she makes a left turn.
If she's lucky, Glenda will probably still be at the PoHA HQ, heck maybe even her nephew. If not...
*Well then,* she thinks, *I guess even Big Boy was too much for them to handle...*
And speaking of big boys....
The basement of PoHA's meeting house grumbles with the sound of what could be mistaken by some to be a moaning bear, and bottles shift around a great mass as it begins to stretch its arms and legs out. It rocks around on all fours, shifting between left and right, trying to balance. It manages to stand itself up on its knees, bobbing its head like a toy. Then, as it reaches a leg out in front of it, the lumbering mass timbers all the way back down, crashing into the coffee table next to it, almost crushing one of the bottles. The sounds can be heard all the way up to the living room.
Oh sure, Glenda is not around... yet. But as was once quoth: "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".
The great Prawn staggers again back to its knees, and stares gapingly around with a cloth between its antennae, covering half his face. The room was completely dark, and only the small specs of light from the rooms above can show him the way out. But he once more tumbles like a tree, arms sprawling all over him like spaghetti noodles.
*Volts48 Dec 20, 2011
"and our top story this morning, locals have reported strange smells coming from the District, describing it as 'the smell of death', regardless of these comments, the MNU insisted the human residents to keep calm and they will handle it. And in local news-" click, the radio was turned off.
sitting in his limousine is Oscar Reeves. He looks out the windows to see the prawns with a smug indifferent look. He taps at the window for his driver as the driver takes a turn and goes straight to factory that is just opening. He is escorted in as he meets with a single prawn in his office to discuss a business plan that would benefit both of them....
~NaviTransformerFan Dec 20, 2011
Breakfast, or what could be described as one, had passed in a relatively large hurry for the mother and the son, as the both of them wanted to know what is the cause of the stench. It came from the fence, which caused the sense of dread within Kelly to be accompanied with suspicions.
A couple of Poleepkwas were already gathered around the cause of the stench, and their expressions differed. Some of them made way for Kelly, probably because of her scent, scent of a high-rank, but most of them were still gathered before her. But since she towered over most of them all, seeing the cause of the stench was of no problem to her, and her dark-colored form froze up in shock, yellow eyes widening, pupils dilating and antennae ceasing all kinds of movements.
Ian had managed to get a glimpse of the.... the corpse when a grown-up Poleepkwa in front of him had moved aside for a bit, and his smaller form had pressed itself against his adoptive mothers, fearful violet eyes looking up at her. <M-Mama?> He clicked out, higher-pitched voice silent and expressing the terror sparked within him from the sight of the corpse.
His voice seemed to snap Kelly out of her stupor, and a low, feral sound what could only be described as an alien growl tore out of her vocals, antennae moving again in sporadic, irregular, strained patterns. Her eyes narrowed in fury, yellow irises particularly glowing against her carapace and dark-colored skin, her shoulders slightly scrunching up against her neck, head lightly dipped forward. This position, plus her size, dark color scheme and spikier-than-most-Poleepkwas appearance expressed her fury very, very well, and some closer Poleepkwas had moved aside, probably not willing to be in the wake of a high-ranks fury.
~Mist-Howler Dec 20, 2011
It was mid morning, the sun had begun to raise into the sky above the infamous District 9. The shacks were loosely constructed, mainly out of scraps of metal as well as plywood, but often contained other materials to make up the buildings. At the near edge of the district, there was a shack occupied by a single individual, a poleepkwa, but known to many humans as a 'prawn' or 'non-human'.
Within that shack, the alien was sitting on his seemingly makeshift bed. The individual had a semi-dark brown carapace with splotches of purple and blue, here and there. The skin underneath the carapace was a darker greyish-brown and his dull, greyish blue grey eyes with a hint of brown branching to the center stood out considerably. His tendrils as well as antennae were dark grey in color. His attire was mostly on the darker side of the grey scale: a pair of wrist warmers; dark, torn pants; and a grey bandanna wound upon his left arm. He also was wearing a relatively new black leather jacket, his most treasured possession. The only thing he wore that was light in color was his tarnished silver necklace that bore a cross, a symbol that referred to his namesake: Jericho Cross.
On the bed, he was carefully writing in English within a cheap notebook with a pen with black ink. As he wrote, he scribbled the words down in a hastily way, often making it seem impossible to read, but not to Jericho; he could easily make out the words he wrote. With his left hand, he loosely scribbled down his current thoughts that composed of a few words such as "wonder", "safety", and "miss them". Of course he was referring to a few individuals he know some time ago. They were by the names of Nyambi and Lukas-- both happened to be human.
All of a sudden, he heard a random bang; the sound of a pole and a pan banged against each other. The abrupt noise made his pen run absurdly across the page, leaving a long, prominent mark. <Of course...> Jericho said to himself, clearly pissed off. He desperately tried to erase the pen stroke off the page with the constant smudging with his left forefinger. To his dismay, that accomplished nothing. Exhaling, he tried to make due with the rest of the page that was unoccupied with the pen mark. Within the thirty second mark, the noise of running feet sounded by the door of his shack. There wasn't just one pair, but several more. He wasn't too perturbed by the noise as sometimes, there were a few who ran past his shack, now and then. However, that was the case until there was a *thump* *thump* *CRASH*. That noise happened to come from the same pot that clanked on a pole earlier, but this time, it was kicked up to the metal door of his shack.
<What now?!> Jericho growled. Must all his neighbors be such a nuisance this day? To respond to the loud noises, he wrote down in his notebook "loud noise" and "irritated" with several exclamation points after each phrase.
As soon as he wrote down the words, he noticed a faint, but distinctive smell-- the smell of death. Often, he disregarded the scent, but this one was quite different; it reeked of unknown chemicals. Disgusted, he wrote by the last few words "bad smell" and underlined "bad" twice.
Closing his notebook and stuffing it away, he proceeded to the front door of his shack. At this time, the earlier commotion had even lured the poleepkwa out from his long-lasted solitude; it lasted for nearly a good six months. Gently, he carefully ran his hand along the edge of the door, creaking it open just enough to allow an eye to observe what was happening.
There was a migration; many of his kin were drawn to something-- or someone. Jericho, however, did not know what. His grey eyes peered over to his left, a growing collection of non-humans began to gather at a single point, far down the road. His dark antennae were twitching up and down, back and fourth; this has peaked his curiosity.
Then suddenly, he carelessly thrust the door open; it caused the door to bang against his shack. The sudden 'bang' made a few of the nearby aliens jump back in alarm. The manner in which he stepped out of his home did not come at ease for them either. His chest went high and his heal lowered making his body language appear argumentative. It, which in turn, caused them to pick up their pace, further continuing on their way. As he advanced down the dirty road, he kept his tall posture, making him appear higher in stature. Though he wasn't the tallest of their kin and by no means is he declared short, but average in height; his assertive and contentious presence made up for it. When he began to head down the road, he let out a loud puff of air in an irritable fashion.
The late morning sun beamed against his brown carapace; the touches of blue and violet emitted a more vivid color during this time of day. The noticeable, tarnished cross flashed against his dark attire, more noted his black leather jacket, given to him by his lost friend, Nyambi. As he walked, his antennae flicked around, trying to pick up anything the poleepkwa were discussing. As he drew closer to the crowd, the putrid smell grew stronger and stronger.
When he was well within earshot, he heard a loud and definite roar-- only which one of his alien kin could possibly make. The other poleepkwa were clustered toward the edge of the fence, he saw a few of their expressions and many of their eyes looked at each other with horror. He knew something was wrong. . . very wrong.
*suthnmeh Dec 20, 2011
Glenda sighs heavily as she stumbles sleepily down Rose Street, carrying a sac full of supposedly fresh fruit from the morning market.
During the course of the last twenty years, this part of the city had slowly gone to waste due to its proximity with district 9. The neighbors that could afford it had all been leaving, one house at a time, and the place was speckled with some boarded up windows from the houses that could never be sold. The occasional prawn sometimes wondered by and rummaged through the humans' trashcans, and only that was enough to make most humans uneasy. Some families had addapted. They had to. Glenda, on the other hand, was more than adapted. She was comfortable. And that really made the neighbors whisper, because even with the utmost care and discretion, non-humans were still seldom seen going in and out of her back-yard. "I'm more worried about the gun-loading humans around here" she told interrogators.
The sun has barely risen over the rooftops of the humble neighborhood when she reaches her front door, keys jingling as they hover towards the lock... and stop in mid air.
Glenda goes still, listening. Yes, it's coming from the basement.
She growls under her breath and furiously sticks the keys in the hole. Storming into the living room, throwing the fruit on the floor, she stumbles upon Josh, her nephew, who after last night has been sleeping over.
Josh freezes at the sight of her, for she was a sight to behold.
"JOSH! WHO DID YOU FORGET DOWN THERE THIS TIME?!"
At this point:
District 9, crime scene:
Jericho
Kelly and Ian
Ferdinand
Glenda's/ PoHA headquarters:
Emma
Glenda and Josh
Michael
Amanda
~CortezHorse Dec 20, 2011
"Whoo! Ten dollars on the blue one!" The shout came on an all too familiar voice in the District as Ira McCarty prodded on a fight between two prawns. "Hey Alma, watch this." The tall twin stated as she tossed in a can of cat food between the two and laughed in a manner that can only be described as evil as one prawn squealed in pain at having an antennae ripped off. Ira turned her blue eyes towards her twin and gave her a shove. "Come on you know you enjoy this just as much as I do." Alma nodded silently then continued to look off in the distance as her sister snorted at the lack of an answer. "Well, come on, this is boring already. Let's find us more fun elsewhere." Both women climbed into the jeep and were off on patrol.
"Now what do we have here?" Ira stated as she spotted a large group gathering around a single area. The jeep rumbled up to the point and both women climbed out, rifles held in their hands in an intmidating gesture towards the gathered prawns. "What's all this fuss about hm? All of you get before I have to waste my ammo on your sorry hides!" As Ira yelled at the gathered group, Alma kneeled down beside the carcass and crinkled her nose at the smell. Many questions arose at the sight of the disfigured body such as how long had it been here and what exactly happened to it but most of all, "Why in the world would you want back in here so badly?" She whispered quietly to the body before pulling the collar of her jacket up to cover her nose.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 20, 2011
(scee-kel)
Kiri stops to stare with hostility the other Poleepkwa. His entire body's shavering for the rage.
<The worst barbecue in the world! In your opinion what did it happen?!> He yells.
~Dracontar Dec 20, 2011
Perhaps the prawn would have been close to sleeping out the drowsiness again were it not for the stomping feet and yelling voices upstairs. He groans again, pulling his arms back to his sides, and he starts to pick himself up again. Back on his knees, he looks up at the door leading back to the upstairs hallway- his only source of light- and crawls on his knees to the stairs. He almost collapses on the rails, but thankfully pulls himself stable on top of it, narrowly avoiding falling face first onto yet another bottle lying on the stairs.
Oh Boy, did Josh have one hell of a "secret stash" down here. Wonder how Glenda will take to it.
But in the meantime, the giant of a prawn is too preoccupied with floating cans of cat food and apples dancing around his head as he slowly inches his way up, struggling to get his feet on solid ground. At last he pounds the door with one of his big hands, and grasps the knob. He almost breaks it off in his struggle just to turn it, and he leans so much of his weight on the door that he busts right through it when it opens.
He almost trips on his feet, struggling to balance, then, as he is half-tripping half-running down the hallway, he grasps the corner of the wall to the living room, hanging there for three seconds. He steps back, remembering the shouting that came from this very room.
He beholds the sight of an angered woman standing before her scared nephew on the couch, both of them staring in awe at the drunken, slouching, giant form of an 8 foot tall, hazel-eyed prawn.
Michael Shawnder is confused for a moment, brows furrowed, his arms hovering in the air, as if he were being interrogated just by Glenda's icy stare. Then, for the first time all morning, he looks down at himself, and notices a rather... interesting array of garments clinging onto him.
Rather than a cloth, as he first thought, a pair of panties are covering half his face, his left arm is wrapped in key chain straps, stickers saying "friends are forever" and "may the shwartz be with you" are stamped all over his right arm, and to top it all off: around the giant's waist, Glenda's ancient tutu is strapped snug against his carapace, half crushed and half soiled in stinking beer.
Oh yeah, and belts that should be used only for a very devious, kinky sort of activity are somehow strapped to his legs as well.
He isn't sure if he'll pass out from the alcohol again, or if that is going to be because of Glenda's wrath.
*suthnmeh Dec 20, 2011
Glenda gapes at her old tutu. She hadn't seen that in ages. Oh the times when it fit her waist was as well as it did the poleepkwa's. Moment of remeniscing gone, she stomped up to the prawn, her nostrils flaring,
"OOF!" she puffed, tearing the tutu right off without a trace of intimidation for the prawn's gigantic size. "Where did you find this- never mind, I don't want to know what you've been doing down there, these wild nights are over!" she yelled, this time addressing the young man in the pyjamas. "What on Earth do I have to do to be heard around here?! MAKE SURE EVERYBODY'S GONE BY 8, that's all you have to do!
"Aunt Glenda, I'm sorry, he must have been hiding or something, I didn't see him!"
As Glenda swirled violently in the spot to look back at Michael, her eyes caught sight of the panties on his head. She paused for a fraction of a second to wrinkle her nose in amazement, then tried to concentrate on scolding without laughing.
"MICHAEL!" she spat simply, which was usually enough to get the toughest of poleepkwas to stiffen up like a soldier. Then she relaxed. "You have to stop doing this, Michael!"
~ArcHunt3r Dec 21, 2011
"Where the fuck are my files?!"
Not the best way to start the day, Medane thought. At least he would be transferred to another section of MNU soon. One of the scientists was practically losing his mind behind some thick doors. It probably wasn't the best idea to ask if everything was alright.
He needed this job, and last thing Medane wanted was to get fired when he needed extra money for his tuition, in addition to finding more evidence as to who, or what, killed his caretaker, Irena during the occasional trips to District 9. (See Bio Number 9 in PoHA's Journal for more info.)
Medane's peers had asked why he had chosen to take up such dangerous work as a college student. He simply shrugged and told them to mind their own "damn" business.
Inside the main building of MNU, Medane was gearing up for standard guard duty.
"Set number?" asked the equipment attendant.
"17." Quickly donning the black overalls, and body armour, he ran over to the armory, and received a Beretta handgun, and a CR-21 rifle, both standard issue to MNU security forces.
Peering behind the armory attendant, he spied heavy weaponry being moved into a store room, notably a few rocket propelled grenade launchers, both sniper and anti-tank rifles, with crates full of all sorts of ammunition. Medane also spied several boxes, each containing a white body armor, far different then the standard equipment they used now.
It wasn't any surprise to him that the world's second largest manufacturer of weapons had such a significant arsenal, although this was edging close to overkill. However, these weapons were fresh, new, and practically straight out of the factory.
"MNU's got something in mind..." mused Medane.
~Scee-Kel Dec 21, 2011
Ferdinand took a step back when he heard the sharp retort. Before he could think of a reply, he was distracted by a different scent.
The scent of a high-rank.
He took the chance to change his focus from the seething Poleepkwa to the one that millenia of evolution had taught him to obey. Unfortunately for him and probably anyone else, she looked even angrier than the first person he'd encountered. He had a feeling that his usually quiet and passive demeanor was going to be put to the test. First the dead body he'd seen, and now this.
~Capestranus Dec 21, 2011
"<I must hurry!>"
A lonely poleepkwa with a long grey coat is running across the empty streets of District 9.
Sometimes he stops, hides behind a shack and changes course. It looks like he doesn't want to be seen.
He firmly holds an old bag in his hands.
Vincent knows he is late; He should have gotten back before dawn...
As he walks rapidly thowards home, he suddently notices how empty that place is.
...Quite unusual.
A few seconds later, he sees some poleepkwas running in the same direction.
Then another one, and another one... A small crowd of non-humans are gathering near the distant fience.
"<What is happening there?>"
As he gets closer to the area, a bad smell begins to invade the air.
He doesn't know what to do; he would like to know what this source of mass interest is, but at the same time, he hates crowds...
When he is about to make a choice, a familiar noise rises from behind the shacks...
It sounds like a car, maybe a truck.
Since he doesn't want to risk, he finally chooses to stay back and hide.
As the brown poleepkwa returns to his original path, a jeep comes to the site, carrying two human females.
~Dracontar Dec 21, 2011
(To Suthnmeh/Dracontar)
Michael almost stumbled a little when Glenda pulled her tutu right off his waist, but the icy sharp stab of her voice is enough to get him out of his stupor. At least a little bit. He stares between Glenda and Josh while lumbering toward the tiny sofa-chair next to him, half-listening half-stumbling his way into the seat.
<Oh... Glenda, I'm- I'm so, so sorry, I just...> his voice was slurred just to the point of legibility, as if he is somewhere else in his head despite his attentiveness. <I didn't realize how late it was... I can't even... remember what hap-happened.> It is quite true that Michael has made a bit of a problem staying around PoHA for far too much longer than he should- could have possibly even gotten them in trouble a few times. He has to keep reminding himself this isn't like Amanda's place.
But the beers? Where the hell did they even come from? First there was the basement... then the closet...then the-
Oh yeah... then the "secret" cupboard... and the stash.
Michael collapsed onto the seat, his head hanging back, arms sprawled over the rests. He exerts a big puff of breath. <I... I try to leave before 8, Ma'am, I swear, but... oh man...> What is he even gonna say? CAN he say it? He rolls his head to the side, looking directly at Josh for a moment- cold, bloody murder in his eyes for a quick second, probably scaring the young man even more- and almost speaks.
Then the front door opens, and a familiar face walks into the living room.
Amanda stops dead in her tracks. Right in front of her is Josh lying haphazardly on the couch, as if about ready to leap right off it like a jackrabbit, then Glenda on the other side of the couch with a damaged Tutu in her hands, and then to the left of the couch Michael is slouched on the chair- with stickers and key chains wrapped around his arms, and Dominatrix belts on his legs, and a pair of panties on his head just to complete the picture.
And the scent of booze was thick around the Poleepkwa.
"... Did I just interrupt an intervention?"
<Oh hai Amy!> The alien waves at the pale woman. <Hai... hai... hai...> He rolls his head back again, and shuts his eyes.
"Michael... ah Jesus, you alright?" She shakes her head, trying hard to keep a serious face and not laugh, minding to close the door behind her. She couldn't have imagined last night to have gotten THIS bad. Then again, when was the last time she ever saw Michael drink?
<I.. I'm just in so much pain right now...>
Then Amanda throws a glance at Glenda's nephew, almost yelling, "Okay, how many drinks did you give 'im last night???"
~RainbowGloStix Dec 21, 2011
A light green eye scanned the surroundings. The air that made Phyllis' stomach churn and sadly she knew where it was coming from. It wasn't much of a mystery and she could feel her heart tightening in remorse. What a morning. She swallowed hard. Phyllis was used to the horrid stenches that came with living on the streets but this…
Keeping her head down she moved towards the district, the smell growing worse. "What the hell could have happen?" Curious, worried, and filling with rage she broke into a run pushing by people who snapped at her. To them she was just a dirty bug lovin' bum. "I hope someone just left a bunch'a rotted meat as a poor prank."
As the district came in sight she slowed down eyeing the forming crowd. She assumed whoever came by jeep would be too busy to notice her, so she moved towards the scene making sure her movements were slow and hoping no one would take her for being hostile. It was important for her to appear friendly if she ever hoped to help them. Seeing the body her blood began to boil. "Who is that fokken sick to... ugh.. poor thing."
~IllyDragonfly Dec 21, 2011
(For Scee-Kel/NaviTransformersFan)
Kiri frowns. What is he staring? The dead Poleepkwa? Yes, it's a terrible view, but...
In a similar situation, when another is standing near you with hostility, is somewhat strange if you're ignoring him! He looks back, puzzled, and winces.
Damn it!
New arrivals, he thinks drily.
A dark-colored alien with a child. The baby seemed so shocked, the parent very pissed off. Fantastic!
<Ehi you! It's not a pretty sight for your son!>
At this point:
District 9, crime scene:
Jericho
Kelly and Ian
Ferdinand
Ira and Alma
Phyllis
Glenda's/ PoHA headquarters:
Emma
Glenda and Josh
Michael
Amanda
MNU HQ
Medane
*suthnmeh Dec 21, 2011
Glenda has been watching in silence, her arms crossed tight, as Michael moved like a sea-sick crocodile and spoke with the eloquency of a scratched record. But now that Amanda is here, there is someone to complain to.
Josh shrinks, meanwhile, at Amanda's interrogation.
"Look, I didn't!" he excused himself. "He must have found the beer by himself!"
"Would you just LISTEN to this, Amy dear?" Glenda moans, slapping her own thigh. "And will you just SMELL? It's enough that he's taking in this poison himself like it's lemonade, he has to go on sharing!"
"I didn't give it to him!"
"AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING BEER IN MY BASEMENT, JOSHUA MKLANDA?"
Josh doesn't know what direction to shrink in as the enemy fire's raining in from all flanks. Glenda does not give him the time for a defense attack.
"I am THIS close to telling your parents about that secret stash if it weren't for the Poleepkwa! I don't know how I'd explain that basement to them! And what do you think Rineke will say about this? DAMMIT, YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING THEM! Does he look like he's being helped?" she screeches, making a motion towards the wasted alien sprawling on the chair, which creaks threatening to give in to his mastodontic weight any second.
~Mist-Howler Dec 21, 2011
As he approached the cluster of poleepkwa, the rancid odor thickened. The stench became quite fetid as well as repulsive which caused him to take a step back. Using the leather jacket's collar, he pulled it over the lower parts of his face as well as shielding his respiratory slits upon his neck. He left plenty of room for his eyes to look around and with patience, survey the surroundings.
The crowd gradually thickened as the aliens gathered at the edge of the fence. He saw one enormous poleepkwa and next to the figure was a youngster, not too much shorter than himself. From the large spikes as well as the jet black shell color, he easily identified this to be Kelly Donovan and with no doubt the smaller alien was her adoptive son, Ian. Next to the two with a noticeable blue carapace and orange eyes, it appeared to be Kiri, a poleepkwa of whom he was well-acquainted with. Nearby him and partially backing off, there was a non-human that was brown in color with a the majority of his arm missing. It was someone he recognized, but did not know in name. There were a number of others, but he didn't know the majority.
Something told him that he should investigate the scene, but another nagging feeling nudged him to stay away. The one thing also greatly worried him was when there's a mass of his kin, he knows for sure that the humans; more specifically, the aggravating MNU personnel; would be assend within their vehicles or 'helicopters', as they called them. He knew that with the gathering, not to mention increasing in mass by the given minute, that this would qualify as an excuse for them to open fire. Many are notorious for taking shots at any non-human, given the opportunity. While he was visualizing the scene, a familiar and yet troublesome sight appeared. A jeep with two female humans pulled up. As it came to a stop, the two individuals had emerged from their vehicle.
He stiffened; he let go of the collar of his jacket as he became high on alert. A low grumble emerged within his alien throat as his carapace upon his eyes caused them to narrow. His tendrils moved in such a way that it resembled a wrinkling human nose, a noticeable sign of disgust. The humans, they were armed. Based on assumption, they possibly came to investigate the ever increasing gathering of aliens. <They may likely stir up some trouble>, Jericho immediately thought.
Cautiously, as well as, eager, he made his way to the perimeter of the group. Instead of merging into the cluster, his position came to be in the shadows of a nearby shack, crouching down next to its walls. The dark attire as well as brown carapace worked well to blend in with the dirt as well as the couple trash bags that were scattered around. As he observed the two armed humans, his senses hardly addressed to the outstanding odor he once he found revolting. Sure he acknowledged the smell, but his scents of smell was dominated over focus. His antennae flicked around, homing in-- listening . . .
~NaviTransformerFan Dec 21, 2011
(partially for IllyDragonfly)
Heavens above, Kelly doesn't remember a time when she had felt this angry, this furious. Her usually-calm and attentive nature had decided to take a swandive out of a space-ship, the encompassing anger taking over. Gills flaring wide each time a breath is let out, her whole being burning with fury, but her posture straightens more, chest lightly moved forth and head reared a bit, antennae standing absolutely straight without a single movement disrupting their position. They didn't even move when she was spoken to in such a manner, causing her head to sharply turn to the side and downwards, yellow eyes boring into the orange ones of the speaker. <I will take a guess and say that you had no idea either of what would greet our kind on this morning before you saw this with your own eyes, am I right?> The towering Poleepkwa growled out, before suddenly wiping around to face the rest of the assembled 'non-humans', being sure to carefully guide Ian in doing the same. Albeit it made her back face the two female MNU guards, her focus is fully diverted to the other assembled members her kind, as in her book, humans like them are at the lowest part in her list of importance.
The youngster Poleepkwa had accidentally sneaked a second glance at the horribly disfigured.... thing that was once a Poleepkwa, and had let out an involuntary whimper before squeezing his violet eyes shut and burying his face in his mother's side, antennae jerking back and forth in a rapid pattern, occasionally tapping against Kelly's wrist, as her hand was positioned on the back of his head, giving him assurance that he isn't alone here.
<This crowd is too big..... Everyone, step back. Get aside, get away from him! Once the actual MNU will get word of this, they will swarm here like the flies already present! Scatter, form a wider circle, don't stand so close to him!> Kelly's deep, furious voice rang out, as she shifted her position to make her spikes stand out more, seemingly trying to enhance her authority and her words with her dark looks. Usually she would never do something like this, as it is absolutely not in her nature to use authority, but the sight of him, so disfigured, mangled, tortured, had set her on edge. It is obvious that by "him" she means the corpse, for heavens above, she will not call a deceased Poleepkwa an "it". And that reminds her, if MNU won't take him away, he will need a burial.... What, you thought Poleepkwas differ from humans so much? They are people too, you know.
~CortezHorse Dec 21, 2011
Ira watched as the prawns began to back away, but not before a large spikey one told them to do so. It was only bits and pieces of the alien speak that she understood, after all she had better things to do than learn some insect language. She understood enough though and her eyes narrowed as she raised her rifle in the air and fired off two shots. "Pardon me but I do believe I was speakin first." She drawled out in her southern accent. "Or do you damn bugs not know the meanin of manners. Now I don't want none of yall anywhere near this area. Ya got five minutes to clear out before I start firin into the crowd ya hear?! Yer lil roach there will be my first target to!" She stated while eyeing the small prawn near the spikey one.
Alma stood up from her kneeling position near the corpse after her sister fired off shots. Great, she thought, her mouth was going to get them into trouble yet again. So with that in mind, the more docile twin made her way to the jeep to call for backup as her more brash counterpart continued to yell threats. Once she had radioed for backup she walked to her sister's side, rifle raised in expectation for this large prawn to attack at the threat of them harming its child. Alma understood everything the large poleepkwa had said earlier and it was obvious this one had some sort of power over the others. She tightened her grip on the rifle at the though because if that was true and she could get them to all attack then they were as good as cat food.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 21, 2011
(for NaviTransformerFan and CortezHorse)
That alien was umbearable! Who do you think you are? He would say to that troublemaker, but Kiri is distracted by two things: for a second he's sure to view Jericho in the growning crowd and now two humans are joining to the party.
One of them is yelling with a look very threatening... She (because Kiri is just sure that the human is a female) wears the MNU's uniform, is harmed and she's pointing to the troublemaker's child.
<Damn it!> He growls.
He turns to the young Poleepkwa with only an arm, that seemed scaried and confused. <Go home, guy, here is going to unleash hell!>
The gun of the human fired.
He prowls to come back, near the dead alien.
That two MNU's agents have to learn that they can't encroach their territory, abuse his people and threathen a child and get away with it!
*suthnmeh Dec 21, 2011
Most of the poleepkwa present near the mutilated corpse were too busy with to notice the little cameras on top of posts whirring around on their axis, zooming in and out on the crowd. It meant MNU had seen, and was most likely dispatching nearby units to disolve the crowd and check out whatever was drawing it. All around the district, the radios on the belts and cars of soldiers buzzed with distorted voices, like a bad omen.
suthnmeh:
Something always smells in the district. Litter and rotting pieces of pig carcass thrown about are the obvious reason. Something always smells not necessarily in the literal sense too. There's the occasional neighborhood murder; a neighbor, there one day, suddenly gone the next, detained perhaps.
But today something really reeks. The stench is revolting even to the poleepkwa, already stirring in their shacks, ready to face the challenge of a new day; most unready for the sight and smell of the carcass rotting away among a heap of trash, giving out a sort of chemical odor even the flies avoid.
The fellow is but a chunk of blackened meat, grotesquely mutilated, missing entire areas of his carapace. How he'd even made it half-way under the wire fence, not out of, but into the district, in his condition was beyond belief. Nobody that night had heard him scratch the dirt, trying to crawl free of the stinging wire. He lay there with his arms outstretched, as if reaching out for his home which, the neighbors knew, was just around the corner from his deathbed and had been empty for the last couple of weeks. It had been no surprise, really, as troublesome gangsters disappeared all the time, whether arrested or simply killed by his own in a score settle.
His human-given name was John Young, and something so terrible happened to him that he was desperate to get back in the boiling chaos that is District 9.
~NaviTransformerFan
If Kelly thought that this morning could be bad, as can be quite common in the district, then nothing could've prepared her for this........ This atrocity that greeted Pleepkwas on that morning, the horrific display of utter cruelty.
The tall, dark-colored Poleepkwa had been up and about for the last couple of minutes, and the stench, the stench, made something inside her stir, something which could only be defined as worry and dread. For mixed in this stench was the familiar aroma of a fellow Poleepkwa.
<Mama? Wh-What is that smell?> Came a series of sleepy clicks from behind her. The towering alien partially turned around, bright yellow eyes falling on the form of her young, adopted son, going by the name Ian, and who seems to have just woken up.
<I don't know, sweetheart.> Is what she clicked back with her deeper tone of voice. She sounded gentle, as any Poleepkwan parent would sound, but her nerves were lightly locked-up with dread, and her antennae were faintly jerking back and forth, the movements frantic enough to tell of what she feels. She was fairly sure that she was far more worried than most of the other Poleepkwas here, no matter how unified their race is, because her genes, her genes inherited from her father, her father who was the General of the Poleepkwan Armada, they are the main cause of this worry, worry for fellow non-humans.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 19, 2011
The voices circulate really fast in the District 9 and very soon Kiri knew all. While he's staring at the poor, twisted carcass, the blue Poleepkwa seems so calm and cool, but his mind is like a fury storm.
<Did I know you?> He whispers to the poor remains, ignoring the bad smell in the air, <Did I fight with you for food?> but most of all, who did THIS to him?
The Nigerians? No, it isn't their style: they use all the Poleepkwa's body... their leader has a weakness for their meat, the warrior knew it.
A civil? No they are too coward to enter in the District, especially with a dead alien!
There is only one probable guilty for this atrocity.
The MNU.
<Damn meat sacks!> He growls. Only a rapid antenna contraction is the only sign of his rage.
He turns over and goes away.
Someone has to pay for this, and he knows a perfect Poleepkwa for his plan.
Jericho.
~Adne Dec 19, 2011
when Emma drove on her bike to work that morning she was angry with herself. she overslept and because of that she really had to peddle hard to get on time.
halfway though, when she came close to District 9 where she had to pass by each day to go the little coffee joint she noticed something odd, a strange smell was hanging in the air and she didn't like it. somehow her curiosity got the better of her again so she slowed down to take a look when she saw a small group of humans and Poleepkwa's standing near a gate.when she saw the body, fear overtook her, who was that? and why is he dead? after puking at least twice she jumped back on her bike and speeded over to the PoHA club dreading that it might be one of her new friends.
hen she finally got there and had gone inside of the garden, she fell to her trembling knees and started to cry, to scared to actually go in and see if someone was not there...
~Scee-Kel Dec 20, 2011
The first thing Ferdinand noticed upon awakening was the smell. He'd grown used to the lingering stench of life in the District, but the new atrocity assaulting his senses wasn't normal in the least. As is the nature of anything new that could initially be that bad, it stirred up concern in Ferdinand, who had his antennae pressed up against his head to help ward off the stench.
"<What is that?>" he mumbled confusedly as he stumbled outside. The smell was a little stronger outside of his shack, but it was due to proximity, not something blocking the odor. He blinked a couple times to help his vision adjust to the already bright light, and once he did, he could see a figure standing by the corpse. "Ah...excuse me? Do you know what's going on?>"
~scwartzwald Dec 20, 2011
Inside the helicopter, High above the city; Jacob awakes from an hour-long, high-altitude slumber. His pager buzzes and in-vehicle sirens shake him away from the isle of dreams and back to the harsh reality he knows all too well. Spat from peace, the happy dream, to the dread of that endless, aching thing...the thorns lining the sacred crown of life: War.
*kkkh--k* "Jacob! Wake up, the break's over." The voice barks through the speakers. To this, however, he was happy to comply.
<On it, Sir.> He clicked back as his eyes narrowed with anticipation. The voice continued to brief the little soldier as he armored up.
"You'll be touching down in District 9 in 90 seconds. There's violent criminal action being exchanged amid the shacks with possible insurrection activity. Once you're there, find the sector, find the building, find a way in and take down their operation. Force authorized. You see any other criminal activity down there, you're on your own."
<Understood.>
The chopper soared over the walls of the district, and from it's open doors Jacob could see as African highway and tall mountain grass quickly became an massive, burgeoning land of slum and filthy shacks. Twenty seconds of eying the lands as they came up to meet him, they had moved in close enough and come to the drop-off point. The chopper hovered at minimum safety distance of eighty feet off the ground. This was it.
"MARK!"
And like every mission, Smith jumped from the aircraft, and landed with uncanny, furious grace. The ground cracking just a bit under his toes.
Let the mission begin.
~Dracontar Dec 20, 2011
A Nissan Titan strolls through the relatively packed streets of the city, its owner slouching onto the door, breathing in a thick whiff of charred burgers and steaming fries. After losing her smell again to a thick layer of mucus clogging her nose, Amanda is reminded why she had decided earlier to call in a replacement at work. The butterflies in her stomach still dog her like a tumor about ready to burst, but she ignores it; one damn day isn't going to make a big difference.
The drive itself proves uneventful; another morning in the City, with the sun's light casting an orange curtain over the dark sky. There is plenty enough light out that streets are filling with honks and shouts, and vendors cooking dinner for their breakfast specials. But hell, Amanda can be more productive, at least, if she checks with her friends first. A very particular concern jogs her out of morning haze, and she makes a left turn.
If she's lucky, Glenda will probably still be at the PoHA HQ, heck maybe even her nephew. If not...
*Well then,* she thinks, *I guess even Big Boy was too much for them to handle...*
And speaking of big boys....
The basement of PoHA's meeting house grumbles with the sound of what could be mistaken by some to be a moaning bear, and bottles shift around a great mass as it begins to stretch its arms and legs out. It rocks around on all fours, shifting between left and right, trying to balance. It manages to stand itself up on its knees, bobbing its head like a toy. Then, as it reaches a leg out in front of it, the lumbering mass timbers all the way back down, crashing into the coffee table next to it, almost crushing one of the bottles. The sounds can be heard all the way up to the living room.
Oh sure, Glenda is not around... yet. But as was once quoth: "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned".
The great Prawn staggers again back to its knees, and stares gapingly around with a cloth between its antennae, covering half his face. The room was completely dark, and only the small specs of light from the rooms above can show him the way out. But he once more tumbles like a tree, arms sprawling all over him like spaghetti noodles.
*Volts48 Dec 20, 2011
"and our top story this morning, locals have reported strange smells coming from the District, describing it as 'the smell of death', regardless of these comments, the MNU insisted the human residents to keep calm and they will handle it. And in local news-" click, the radio was turned off.
sitting in his limousine is Oscar Reeves. He looks out the windows to see the prawns with a smug indifferent look. He taps at the window for his driver as the driver takes a turn and goes straight to factory that is just opening. He is escorted in as he meets with a single prawn in his office to discuss a business plan that would benefit both of them....
~NaviTransformerFan Dec 20, 2011
Breakfast, or what could be described as one, had passed in a relatively large hurry for the mother and the son, as the both of them wanted to know what is the cause of the stench. It came from the fence, which caused the sense of dread within Kelly to be accompanied with suspicions.
A couple of Poleepkwas were already gathered around the cause of the stench, and their expressions differed. Some of them made way for Kelly, probably because of her scent, scent of a high-rank, but most of them were still gathered before her. But since she towered over most of them all, seeing the cause of the stench was of no problem to her, and her dark-colored form froze up in shock, yellow eyes widening, pupils dilating and antennae ceasing all kinds of movements.
Ian had managed to get a glimpse of the.... the corpse when a grown-up Poleepkwa in front of him had moved aside for a bit, and his smaller form had pressed itself against his adoptive mothers, fearful violet eyes looking up at her. <M-Mama?> He clicked out, higher-pitched voice silent and expressing the terror sparked within him from the sight of the corpse.
His voice seemed to snap Kelly out of her stupor, and a low, feral sound what could only be described as an alien growl tore out of her vocals, antennae moving again in sporadic, irregular, strained patterns. Her eyes narrowed in fury, yellow irises particularly glowing against her carapace and dark-colored skin, her shoulders slightly scrunching up against her neck, head lightly dipped forward. This position, plus her size, dark color scheme and spikier-than-most-Poleepkwas appearance expressed her fury very, very well, and some closer Poleepkwas had moved aside, probably not willing to be in the wake of a high-ranks fury.
~Mist-Howler Dec 20, 2011
It was mid morning, the sun had begun to raise into the sky above the infamous District 9. The shacks were loosely constructed, mainly out of scraps of metal as well as plywood, but often contained other materials to make up the buildings. At the near edge of the district, there was a shack occupied by a single individual, a poleepkwa, but known to many humans as a 'prawn' or 'non-human'.
Within that shack, the alien was sitting on his seemingly makeshift bed. The individual had a semi-dark brown carapace with splotches of purple and blue, here and there. The skin underneath the carapace was a darker greyish-brown and his dull, greyish blue grey eyes with a hint of brown branching to the center stood out considerably. His tendrils as well as antennae were dark grey in color. His attire was mostly on the darker side of the grey scale: a pair of wrist warmers; dark, torn pants; and a grey bandanna wound upon his left arm. He also was wearing a relatively new black leather jacket, his most treasured possession. The only thing he wore that was light in color was his tarnished silver necklace that bore a cross, a symbol that referred to his namesake: Jericho Cross.
On the bed, he was carefully writing in English within a cheap notebook with a pen with black ink. As he wrote, he scribbled the words down in a hastily way, often making it seem impossible to read, but not to Jericho; he could easily make out the words he wrote. With his left hand, he loosely scribbled down his current thoughts that composed of a few words such as "wonder", "safety", and "miss them". Of course he was referring to a few individuals he know some time ago. They were by the names of Nyambi and Lukas-- both happened to be human.
All of a sudden, he heard a random bang; the sound of a pole and a pan banged against each other. The abrupt noise made his pen run absurdly across the page, leaving a long, prominent mark. <Of course...> Jericho said to himself, clearly pissed off. He desperately tried to erase the pen stroke off the page with the constant smudging with his left forefinger. To his dismay, that accomplished nothing. Exhaling, he tried to make due with the rest of the page that was unoccupied with the pen mark. Within the thirty second mark, the noise of running feet sounded by the door of his shack. There wasn't just one pair, but several more. He wasn't too perturbed by the noise as sometimes, there were a few who ran past his shack, now and then. However, that was the case until there was a *thump* *thump* *CRASH*. That noise happened to come from the same pot that clanked on a pole earlier, but this time, it was kicked up to the metal door of his shack.
<What now?!> Jericho growled. Must all his neighbors be such a nuisance this day? To respond to the loud noises, he wrote down in his notebook "loud noise" and "irritated" with several exclamation points after each phrase.
As soon as he wrote down the words, he noticed a faint, but distinctive smell-- the smell of death. Often, he disregarded the scent, but this one was quite different; it reeked of unknown chemicals. Disgusted, he wrote by the last few words "bad smell" and underlined "bad" twice.
Closing his notebook and stuffing it away, he proceeded to the front door of his shack. At this time, the earlier commotion had even lured the poleepkwa out from his long-lasted solitude; it lasted for nearly a good six months. Gently, he carefully ran his hand along the edge of the door, creaking it open just enough to allow an eye to observe what was happening.
There was a migration; many of his kin were drawn to something-- or someone. Jericho, however, did not know what. His grey eyes peered over to his left, a growing collection of non-humans began to gather at a single point, far down the road. His dark antennae were twitching up and down, back and fourth; this has peaked his curiosity.
Then suddenly, he carelessly thrust the door open; it caused the door to bang against his shack. The sudden 'bang' made a few of the nearby aliens jump back in alarm. The manner in which he stepped out of his home did not come at ease for them either. His chest went high and his heal lowered making his body language appear argumentative. It, which in turn, caused them to pick up their pace, further continuing on their way. As he advanced down the dirty road, he kept his tall posture, making him appear higher in stature. Though he wasn't the tallest of their kin and by no means is he declared short, but average in height; his assertive and contentious presence made up for it. When he began to head down the road, he let out a loud puff of air in an irritable fashion.
The late morning sun beamed against his brown carapace; the touches of blue and violet emitted a more vivid color during this time of day. The noticeable, tarnished cross flashed against his dark attire, more noted his black leather jacket, given to him by his lost friend, Nyambi. As he walked, his antennae flicked around, trying to pick up anything the poleepkwa were discussing. As he drew closer to the crowd, the putrid smell grew stronger and stronger.
When he was well within earshot, he heard a loud and definite roar-- only which one of his alien kin could possibly make. The other poleepkwa were clustered toward the edge of the fence, he saw a few of their expressions and many of their eyes looked at each other with horror. He knew something was wrong. . . very wrong.
*suthnmeh Dec 20, 2011
Glenda sighs heavily as she stumbles sleepily down Rose Street, carrying a sac full of supposedly fresh fruit from the morning market.
During the course of the last twenty years, this part of the city had slowly gone to waste due to its proximity with district 9. The neighbors that could afford it had all been leaving, one house at a time, and the place was speckled with some boarded up windows from the houses that could never be sold. The occasional prawn sometimes wondered by and rummaged through the humans' trashcans, and only that was enough to make most humans uneasy. Some families had addapted. They had to. Glenda, on the other hand, was more than adapted. She was comfortable. And that really made the neighbors whisper, because even with the utmost care and discretion, non-humans were still seldom seen going in and out of her back-yard. "I'm more worried about the gun-loading humans around here" she told interrogators.
The sun has barely risen over the rooftops of the humble neighborhood when she reaches her front door, keys jingling as they hover towards the lock... and stop in mid air.
Glenda goes still, listening. Yes, it's coming from the basement.
She growls under her breath and furiously sticks the keys in the hole. Storming into the living room, throwing the fruit on the floor, she stumbles upon Josh, her nephew, who after last night has been sleeping over.
Josh freezes at the sight of her, for she was a sight to behold.
"JOSH! WHO DID YOU FORGET DOWN THERE THIS TIME?!"
At this point:
District 9, crime scene:
Jericho
Kelly and Ian
Ferdinand
Glenda's/ PoHA headquarters:
Emma
Glenda and Josh
Michael
Amanda
~CortezHorse Dec 20, 2011
"Whoo! Ten dollars on the blue one!" The shout came on an all too familiar voice in the District as Ira McCarty prodded on a fight between two prawns. "Hey Alma, watch this." The tall twin stated as she tossed in a can of cat food between the two and laughed in a manner that can only be described as evil as one prawn squealed in pain at having an antennae ripped off. Ira turned her blue eyes towards her twin and gave her a shove. "Come on you know you enjoy this just as much as I do." Alma nodded silently then continued to look off in the distance as her sister snorted at the lack of an answer. "Well, come on, this is boring already. Let's find us more fun elsewhere." Both women climbed into the jeep and were off on patrol.
"Now what do we have here?" Ira stated as she spotted a large group gathering around a single area. The jeep rumbled up to the point and both women climbed out, rifles held in their hands in an intmidating gesture towards the gathered prawns. "What's all this fuss about hm? All of you get before I have to waste my ammo on your sorry hides!" As Ira yelled at the gathered group, Alma kneeled down beside the carcass and crinkled her nose at the smell. Many questions arose at the sight of the disfigured body such as how long had it been here and what exactly happened to it but most of all, "Why in the world would you want back in here so badly?" She whispered quietly to the body before pulling the collar of her jacket up to cover her nose.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 20, 2011
(scee-kel)
Kiri stops to stare with hostility the other Poleepkwa. His entire body's shavering for the rage.
<The worst barbecue in the world! In your opinion what did it happen?!> He yells.
~Dracontar Dec 20, 2011
Perhaps the prawn would have been close to sleeping out the drowsiness again were it not for the stomping feet and yelling voices upstairs. He groans again, pulling his arms back to his sides, and he starts to pick himself up again. Back on his knees, he looks up at the door leading back to the upstairs hallway- his only source of light- and crawls on his knees to the stairs. He almost collapses on the rails, but thankfully pulls himself stable on top of it, narrowly avoiding falling face first onto yet another bottle lying on the stairs.
Oh Boy, did Josh have one hell of a "secret stash" down here. Wonder how Glenda will take to it.
But in the meantime, the giant of a prawn is too preoccupied with floating cans of cat food and apples dancing around his head as he slowly inches his way up, struggling to get his feet on solid ground. At last he pounds the door with one of his big hands, and grasps the knob. He almost breaks it off in his struggle just to turn it, and he leans so much of his weight on the door that he busts right through it when it opens.
He almost trips on his feet, struggling to balance, then, as he is half-tripping half-running down the hallway, he grasps the corner of the wall to the living room, hanging there for three seconds. He steps back, remembering the shouting that came from this very room.
He beholds the sight of an angered woman standing before her scared nephew on the couch, both of them staring in awe at the drunken, slouching, giant form of an 8 foot tall, hazel-eyed prawn.
Michael Shawnder is confused for a moment, brows furrowed, his arms hovering in the air, as if he were being interrogated just by Glenda's icy stare. Then, for the first time all morning, he looks down at himself, and notices a rather... interesting array of garments clinging onto him.
Rather than a cloth, as he first thought, a pair of panties are covering half his face, his left arm is wrapped in key chain straps, stickers saying "friends are forever" and "may the shwartz be with you" are stamped all over his right arm, and to top it all off: around the giant's waist, Glenda's ancient tutu is strapped snug against his carapace, half crushed and half soiled in stinking beer.
Oh yeah, and belts that should be used only for a very devious, kinky sort of activity are somehow strapped to his legs as well.
He isn't sure if he'll pass out from the alcohol again, or if that is going to be because of Glenda's wrath.
*suthnmeh Dec 20, 2011
Glenda gapes at her old tutu. She hadn't seen that in ages. Oh the times when it fit her waist was as well as it did the poleepkwa's. Moment of remeniscing gone, she stomped up to the prawn, her nostrils flaring,
"OOF!" she puffed, tearing the tutu right off without a trace of intimidation for the prawn's gigantic size. "Where did you find this- never mind, I don't want to know what you've been doing down there, these wild nights are over!" she yelled, this time addressing the young man in the pyjamas. "What on Earth do I have to do to be heard around here?! MAKE SURE EVERYBODY'S GONE BY 8, that's all you have to do!
"Aunt Glenda, I'm sorry, he must have been hiding or something, I didn't see him!"
As Glenda swirled violently in the spot to look back at Michael, her eyes caught sight of the panties on his head. She paused for a fraction of a second to wrinkle her nose in amazement, then tried to concentrate on scolding without laughing.
"MICHAEL!" she spat simply, which was usually enough to get the toughest of poleepkwas to stiffen up like a soldier. Then she relaxed. "You have to stop doing this, Michael!"
~ArcHunt3r Dec 21, 2011
"Where the fuck are my files?!"
Not the best way to start the day, Medane thought. At least he would be transferred to another section of MNU soon. One of the scientists was practically losing his mind behind some thick doors. It probably wasn't the best idea to ask if everything was alright.
He needed this job, and last thing Medane wanted was to get fired when he needed extra money for his tuition, in addition to finding more evidence as to who, or what, killed his caretaker, Irena during the occasional trips to District 9. (See Bio Number 9 in PoHA's Journal for more info.)
Medane's peers had asked why he had chosen to take up such dangerous work as a college student. He simply shrugged and told them to mind their own "damn" business.
Inside the main building of MNU, Medane was gearing up for standard guard duty.
"Set number?" asked the equipment attendant.
"17." Quickly donning the black overalls, and body armour, he ran over to the armory, and received a Beretta handgun, and a CR-21 rifle, both standard issue to MNU security forces.
Peering behind the armory attendant, he spied heavy weaponry being moved into a store room, notably a few rocket propelled grenade launchers, both sniper and anti-tank rifles, with crates full of all sorts of ammunition. Medane also spied several boxes, each containing a white body armor, far different then the standard equipment they used now.
It wasn't any surprise to him that the world's second largest manufacturer of weapons had such a significant arsenal, although this was edging close to overkill. However, these weapons were fresh, new, and practically straight out of the factory.
"MNU's got something in mind..." mused Medane.
~Scee-Kel Dec 21, 2011
Ferdinand took a step back when he heard the sharp retort. Before he could think of a reply, he was distracted by a different scent.
The scent of a high-rank.
He took the chance to change his focus from the seething Poleepkwa to the one that millenia of evolution had taught him to obey. Unfortunately for him and probably anyone else, she looked even angrier than the first person he'd encountered. He had a feeling that his usually quiet and passive demeanor was going to be put to the test. First the dead body he'd seen, and now this.
~Capestranus Dec 21, 2011
"<I must hurry!>"
A lonely poleepkwa with a long grey coat is running across the empty streets of District 9.
Sometimes he stops, hides behind a shack and changes course. It looks like he doesn't want to be seen.
He firmly holds an old bag in his hands.
Vincent knows he is late; He should have gotten back before dawn...
As he walks rapidly thowards home, he suddently notices how empty that place is.
...Quite unusual.
A few seconds later, he sees some poleepkwas running in the same direction.
Then another one, and another one... A small crowd of non-humans are gathering near the distant fience.
"<What is happening there?>"
As he gets closer to the area, a bad smell begins to invade the air.
He doesn't know what to do; he would like to know what this source of mass interest is, but at the same time, he hates crowds...
When he is about to make a choice, a familiar noise rises from behind the shacks...
It sounds like a car, maybe a truck.
Since he doesn't want to risk, he finally chooses to stay back and hide.
As the brown poleepkwa returns to his original path, a jeep comes to the site, carrying two human females.
~Dracontar Dec 21, 2011
(To Suthnmeh/Dracontar)
Michael almost stumbled a little when Glenda pulled her tutu right off his waist, but the icy sharp stab of her voice is enough to get him out of his stupor. At least a little bit. He stares between Glenda and Josh while lumbering toward the tiny sofa-chair next to him, half-listening half-stumbling his way into the seat.
<Oh... Glenda, I'm- I'm so, so sorry, I just...> his voice was slurred just to the point of legibility, as if he is somewhere else in his head despite his attentiveness. <I didn't realize how late it was... I can't even... remember what hap-happened.> It is quite true that Michael has made a bit of a problem staying around PoHA for far too much longer than he should- could have possibly even gotten them in trouble a few times. He has to keep reminding himself this isn't like Amanda's place.
But the beers? Where the hell did they even come from? First there was the basement... then the closet...then the-
Oh yeah... then the "secret" cupboard... and the stash.
Michael collapsed onto the seat, his head hanging back, arms sprawled over the rests. He exerts a big puff of breath. <I... I try to leave before 8, Ma'am, I swear, but... oh man...> What is he even gonna say? CAN he say it? He rolls his head to the side, looking directly at Josh for a moment- cold, bloody murder in his eyes for a quick second, probably scaring the young man even more- and almost speaks.
Then the front door opens, and a familiar face walks into the living room.
Amanda stops dead in her tracks. Right in front of her is Josh lying haphazardly on the couch, as if about ready to leap right off it like a jackrabbit, then Glenda on the other side of the couch with a damaged Tutu in her hands, and then to the left of the couch Michael is slouched on the chair- with stickers and key chains wrapped around his arms, and Dominatrix belts on his legs, and a pair of panties on his head just to complete the picture.
And the scent of booze was thick around the Poleepkwa.
"... Did I just interrupt an intervention?"
<Oh hai Amy!> The alien waves at the pale woman. <Hai... hai... hai...> He rolls his head back again, and shuts his eyes.
"Michael... ah Jesus, you alright?" She shakes her head, trying hard to keep a serious face and not laugh, minding to close the door behind her. She couldn't have imagined last night to have gotten THIS bad. Then again, when was the last time she ever saw Michael drink?
<I.. I'm just in so much pain right now...>
Then Amanda throws a glance at Glenda's nephew, almost yelling, "Okay, how many drinks did you give 'im last night???"
~RainbowGloStix Dec 21, 2011
A light green eye scanned the surroundings. The air that made Phyllis' stomach churn and sadly she knew where it was coming from. It wasn't much of a mystery and she could feel her heart tightening in remorse. What a morning. She swallowed hard. Phyllis was used to the horrid stenches that came with living on the streets but this…
Keeping her head down she moved towards the district, the smell growing worse. "What the hell could have happen?" Curious, worried, and filling with rage she broke into a run pushing by people who snapped at her. To them she was just a dirty bug lovin' bum. "I hope someone just left a bunch'a rotted meat as a poor prank."
As the district came in sight she slowed down eyeing the forming crowd. She assumed whoever came by jeep would be too busy to notice her, so she moved towards the scene making sure her movements were slow and hoping no one would take her for being hostile. It was important for her to appear friendly if she ever hoped to help them. Seeing the body her blood began to boil. "Who is that fokken sick to... ugh.. poor thing."
~IllyDragonfly Dec 21, 2011
(For Scee-Kel/NaviTransformersFan)
Kiri frowns. What is he staring? The dead Poleepkwa? Yes, it's a terrible view, but...
In a similar situation, when another is standing near you with hostility, is somewhat strange if you're ignoring him! He looks back, puzzled, and winces.
Damn it!
New arrivals, he thinks drily.
A dark-colored alien with a child. The baby seemed so shocked, the parent very pissed off. Fantastic!
<Ehi you! It's not a pretty sight for your son!>
At this point:
District 9, crime scene:
Jericho
Kelly and Ian
Ferdinand
Ira and Alma
Phyllis
Glenda's/ PoHA headquarters:
Emma
Glenda and Josh
Michael
Amanda
MNU HQ
Medane
*suthnmeh Dec 21, 2011
Glenda has been watching in silence, her arms crossed tight, as Michael moved like a sea-sick crocodile and spoke with the eloquency of a scratched record. But now that Amanda is here, there is someone to complain to.
Josh shrinks, meanwhile, at Amanda's interrogation.
"Look, I didn't!" he excused himself. "He must have found the beer by himself!"
"Would you just LISTEN to this, Amy dear?" Glenda moans, slapping her own thigh. "And will you just SMELL? It's enough that he's taking in this poison himself like it's lemonade, he has to go on sharing!"
"I didn't give it to him!"
"AND HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING BEER IN MY BASEMENT, JOSHUA MKLANDA?"
Josh doesn't know what direction to shrink in as the enemy fire's raining in from all flanks. Glenda does not give him the time for a defense attack.
"I am THIS close to telling your parents about that secret stash if it weren't for the Poleepkwa! I don't know how I'd explain that basement to them! And what do you think Rineke will say about this? DAMMIT, YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE HELPING THEM! Does he look like he's being helped?" she screeches, making a motion towards the wasted alien sprawling on the chair, which creaks threatening to give in to his mastodontic weight any second.
~Mist-Howler Dec 21, 2011
As he approached the cluster of poleepkwa, the rancid odor thickened. The stench became quite fetid as well as repulsive which caused him to take a step back. Using the leather jacket's collar, he pulled it over the lower parts of his face as well as shielding his respiratory slits upon his neck. He left plenty of room for his eyes to look around and with patience, survey the surroundings.
The crowd gradually thickened as the aliens gathered at the edge of the fence. He saw one enormous poleepkwa and next to the figure was a youngster, not too much shorter than himself. From the large spikes as well as the jet black shell color, he easily identified this to be Kelly Donovan and with no doubt the smaller alien was her adoptive son, Ian. Next to the two with a noticeable blue carapace and orange eyes, it appeared to be Kiri, a poleepkwa of whom he was well-acquainted with. Nearby him and partially backing off, there was a non-human that was brown in color with a the majority of his arm missing. It was someone he recognized, but did not know in name. There were a number of others, but he didn't know the majority.
Something told him that he should investigate the scene, but another nagging feeling nudged him to stay away. The one thing also greatly worried him was when there's a mass of his kin, he knows for sure that the humans; more specifically, the aggravating MNU personnel; would be assend within their vehicles or 'helicopters', as they called them. He knew that with the gathering, not to mention increasing in mass by the given minute, that this would qualify as an excuse for them to open fire. Many are notorious for taking shots at any non-human, given the opportunity. While he was visualizing the scene, a familiar and yet troublesome sight appeared. A jeep with two female humans pulled up. As it came to a stop, the two individuals had emerged from their vehicle.
He stiffened; he let go of the collar of his jacket as he became high on alert. A low grumble emerged within his alien throat as his carapace upon his eyes caused them to narrow. His tendrils moved in such a way that it resembled a wrinkling human nose, a noticeable sign of disgust. The humans, they were armed. Based on assumption, they possibly came to investigate the ever increasing gathering of aliens. <They may likely stir up some trouble>, Jericho immediately thought.
Cautiously, as well as, eager, he made his way to the perimeter of the group. Instead of merging into the cluster, his position came to be in the shadows of a nearby shack, crouching down next to its walls. The dark attire as well as brown carapace worked well to blend in with the dirt as well as the couple trash bags that were scattered around. As he observed the two armed humans, his senses hardly addressed to the outstanding odor he once he found revolting. Sure he acknowledged the smell, but his scents of smell was dominated over focus. His antennae flicked around, homing in-- listening . . .
~NaviTransformerFan Dec 21, 2011
(partially for IllyDragonfly)
Heavens above, Kelly doesn't remember a time when she had felt this angry, this furious. Her usually-calm and attentive nature had decided to take a swandive out of a space-ship, the encompassing anger taking over. Gills flaring wide each time a breath is let out, her whole being burning with fury, but her posture straightens more, chest lightly moved forth and head reared a bit, antennae standing absolutely straight without a single movement disrupting their position. They didn't even move when she was spoken to in such a manner, causing her head to sharply turn to the side and downwards, yellow eyes boring into the orange ones of the speaker. <I will take a guess and say that you had no idea either of what would greet our kind on this morning before you saw this with your own eyes, am I right?> The towering Poleepkwa growled out, before suddenly wiping around to face the rest of the assembled 'non-humans', being sure to carefully guide Ian in doing the same. Albeit it made her back face the two female MNU guards, her focus is fully diverted to the other assembled members her kind, as in her book, humans like them are at the lowest part in her list of importance.
The youngster Poleepkwa had accidentally sneaked a second glance at the horribly disfigured.... thing that was once a Poleepkwa, and had let out an involuntary whimper before squeezing his violet eyes shut and burying his face in his mother's side, antennae jerking back and forth in a rapid pattern, occasionally tapping against Kelly's wrist, as her hand was positioned on the back of his head, giving him assurance that he isn't alone here.
<This crowd is too big..... Everyone, step back. Get aside, get away from him! Once the actual MNU will get word of this, they will swarm here like the flies already present! Scatter, form a wider circle, don't stand so close to him!> Kelly's deep, furious voice rang out, as she shifted her position to make her spikes stand out more, seemingly trying to enhance her authority and her words with her dark looks. Usually she would never do something like this, as it is absolutely not in her nature to use authority, but the sight of him, so disfigured, mangled, tortured, had set her on edge. It is obvious that by "him" she means the corpse, for heavens above, she will not call a deceased Poleepkwa an "it". And that reminds her, if MNU won't take him away, he will need a burial.... What, you thought Poleepkwas differ from humans so much? They are people too, you know.
~CortezHorse Dec 21, 2011
Ira watched as the prawns began to back away, but not before a large spikey one told them to do so. It was only bits and pieces of the alien speak that she understood, after all she had better things to do than learn some insect language. She understood enough though and her eyes narrowed as she raised her rifle in the air and fired off two shots. "Pardon me but I do believe I was speakin first." She drawled out in her southern accent. "Or do you damn bugs not know the meanin of manners. Now I don't want none of yall anywhere near this area. Ya got five minutes to clear out before I start firin into the crowd ya hear?! Yer lil roach there will be my first target to!" She stated while eyeing the small prawn near the spikey one.
Alma stood up from her kneeling position near the corpse after her sister fired off shots. Great, she thought, her mouth was going to get them into trouble yet again. So with that in mind, the more docile twin made her way to the jeep to call for backup as her more brash counterpart continued to yell threats. Once she had radioed for backup she walked to her sister's side, rifle raised in expectation for this large prawn to attack at the threat of them harming its child. Alma understood everything the large poleepkwa had said earlier and it was obvious this one had some sort of power over the others. She tightened her grip on the rifle at the though because if that was true and she could get them to all attack then they were as good as cat food.
~IllyDragonfly Dec 21, 2011
(for NaviTransformerFan and CortezHorse)
That alien was umbearable! Who do you think you are? He would say to that troublemaker, but Kiri is distracted by two things: for a second he's sure to view Jericho in the growning crowd and now two humans are joining to the party.
One of them is yelling with a look very threatening... She (because Kiri is just sure that the human is a female) wears the MNU's uniform, is harmed and she's pointing to the troublemaker's child.
<Damn it!> He growls.
He turns to the young Poleepkwa with only an arm, that seemed scaried and confused. <Go home, guy, here is going to unleash hell!>
The gun of the human fired.
He prowls to come back, near the dead alien.
That two MNU's agents have to learn that they can't encroach their territory, abuse his people and threathen a child and get away with it!
*suthnmeh Dec 21, 2011
Most of the poleepkwa present near the mutilated corpse were too busy with to notice the little cameras on top of posts whirring around on their axis, zooming in and out on the crowd. It meant MNU had seen, and was most likely dispatching nearby units to disolve the crowd and check out whatever was drawing it. All around the district, the radios on the belts and cars of soldiers buzzed with distorted voices, like a bad omen.
Hokai.
It took like an hour just to copy paste all the entries into a Word document
This is just the beginning. There are *checks* like a 100 pages of text here already ffff.
So I decided to post in chapters. I'll improvise with the names of the chapters
And also point out the post dates, to keep it organized. I tried to pay attention to parenthesis and most "useless" stuff like that that were better off erased, but I can't promise to have gotten it all. I mean IT'S 100 FRIGGIN' PAGES. Which... is actually a good sign that the RP is going great! 
And however long, it just so happens it's actually a great read^^
So let's keep this going, yay!!
Oh and I don't know about mature content... Just in case it gives any of you guys problems I'll say "no".
There are a buttload of characters here that are not mine. I'm posting this myself because someone has to. I can't bare to mention every single character and give due credit right now though... Might do it later... *falls face first into wooden floor*
The RP in chapters:
01: [link]
02.1: [link]
02.2: [link]
It took like an hour just to copy paste all the entries into a Word document
This is just the beginning. There are *checks* like a 100 pages of text here already ffff.
So I decided to post in chapters. I'll improvise with the names of the chapters
And also point out the post dates, to keep it organized. I tried to pay attention to parenthesis and most "useless" stuff like that that were better off erased, but I can't promise to have gotten it all. I mean IT'S 100 FRIGGIN' PAGES. Which... is actually a good sign that the RP is going great! And however long, it just so happens it's actually a great read^^So let's keep this going, yay!!
Oh and I don't know about mature content... Just in case it gives any of you guys problems I'll say "no".
There are a buttload of characters here that are not mine. I'm posting this myself because someone has to. I can't bare to mention every single character and give due credit right now though... Might do it later... *falls face first into wooden floor*
The RP in chapters:
01: [link]
02.1: [link]
02.2: [link]
© 2012 - 2024 suthnmeh
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Oh, lol, why did I take so much time to read this? XD
Anyways, IT IS AWQESOME. Nice teamwork you guys did thar :3
Anyways, IT IS AWQESOME. Nice teamwork you guys did thar :3