Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel - Literature (2) - Nairaland
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| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by Pinkfeet: 8:58pm On Mar 14, 2018 |
holarbolu: thanks for mention 1 Like |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by Oroolorun(m): 7:22am On Mar 16, 2018 |
[color=#006600][/color][quote author=holarbolu post=65836438]oroolorun
Thanks for the mention. Now lets go. 1 Like 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by labi1977(m): 7:41am On Mar 16, 2018 |
Hi readers like me want action from the first page there's not much interesting about flying spaceships or history good luck 1 Like 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by godamnit(m): 7:48am On Mar 16, 2018 |
holarbolu: You have a nice story, but you overemphasize with your vocabularies(making minute mistake)and extending your scenes with long sentences. You know what you are doing, you just need to do it quicker. 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by ExInferis(m): 8:07am On Mar 16, 2018 |
holarbolu: Disjointed, amorphous, half-baked ideas strung together in unnecessary verbosity resulting in a writhing mass of incoherent pretentiousness. Choose your tone properly; shakespearean English or everyday informality. You can't have a mishmash of biblical, victorian, classical, and post-modernist tone in your narrative. Choose your images clearly; don't clutter your descriptions with mundane details that serve no purpose than to make you sound smart. Choose your characters wisely and define who they are by their thoughts and actions; long descriptions of their intent which we can already surmise from their tones is windy and useless. Your characters are as hideously paper-thin as your dialogs. Obviously you just thought up the central plot but none of the connective tissue between subplots. You can do better than this if you take the time out to flesh your characters, dialog and story, and drop the unnecessary and thick prose. 2 Likes |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:03pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
ExInferis: Thanks man for the critics... Quite appreciate this |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:07pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
Malcolm stood idly close to a recess in the wall, watching the bunch of inmates soaked up in hell raising for guards on watch in Hades. Doors tore off their hinges and were sent flying by unseen kinetic forces at the guards armed with maser submachine firearms, tongues of fire lapped at men and walls by God knows mystic power that has the unlucky lot of the guards flailing on the ground as they were suck up by fire. Many were sent flying like a lance by hooks, kicks, boxes, and bunts impacted by the husky pack among the inmates, while some were lapidified and frozened to their bones. He hadn't the faintest hint to channel into that spring of incomputable wealth within him, and without such power in a seance like this, he was a sitting duck that could easily be brought down by the guards' maser guns, that bore deep holes in the walls about. Twice, he had seen his friend set the guards aflamed with his pyro kine, and a tall girl with low-set ears, who had sent three of the guards against a wall, to their death with a torrid gust of air. He had appraised the girl not to be any younger than eighteen years right on the spot, but what's was the point in that; he was fifteen with no soupcon to accessing his imbred powers. He pouted in utter mortification of the thought. Russell hid himself behind a column at the tramps of approaching feets, his gaze travelled along with the flutter of monochromatic lights scudding across the face of the walls in the gloom, from the flash of the maser riffles wielded by the operatives. Now, it seemed he had drawn more than necessary attention to himself. More than twenty PHS operatives were on his tail and there's apparently no way of shaking them off. "Looking for someone?" He asked from behind the column, picking the sound of stirs among the operatives, who stood trigger-ready with their weapons. "Show your face, and we won't have to settle for the worst." A harsh-sounding voice he inferred to be that of the team leader called out. He glided into view like a breeze, aware of the sprinkling red lights of laser sights over his body. "And if I say otherwise?" "Then you'll leave us no chance but to make it rain hell on you." The team leader returned with cold look. "Let's leave it at that then." He sidestepped before the first laser shot made impact, reflexly slipping behind a column that was instantly riddled by particle beams. "Take him down!" The team leader shrilled and stared long as the column was taken down by the laser shots expelled from their submachine riffles. But to his level-most dismay, the target was nowhere to be found. He caught a glimpse of a figure in his left eye and within the span of an eye blink, six of his men were crumbling up on the floor like a pile of clothes, knocked off their feets by the target's dazzling combo of kicks and punches. Russell shimmied through the line of armed operatives, landing punches on faces, and noses, side-swiping with helicopter kicks, and sidling away from laser shots popped from the riffles, leaving a trail of blood and stirless bodies at the wake of his every move. "We shouldn't have settle for this, you know?" He said to the team leader, who gave an affirmative nod of his head in the stead of a word as he was the last-ditch of putting the man down of all his team, who were either threshing and writhing in pain or long gone from this life. "Since you've seen it rain, I guess this has a long lasting impression on you that my kind can't be Bleep with by people like you." He shot up his arm, connecting an arcing Sunday punch with his jaw, and watched as he toppled to the ground out cold. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:10pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
Fontaine with his team, comprising of Johannes, Mia and other two agents caught up with the target on the eighteenth level as he was on the cusp of inching into an elevator. They had picked the dissipated sound of gunfire on a level above the attack scene, combing through halls to find the telltale tint of the work done by the target. "You stop right there, throw your hands where I can see them and go down on your knees." Fontaine pronounced the words out like a mantra, sceptic of the man conceding to his bidding. No hostile target will give in on the border of the havoc already done by him, for that alone he was glad he had his team, trained in hand to hand combat by his side. The target had taken on a kamikaze charge by intruding into the PHS tower, and now he will meet his untimely end. He clumped his hand into a fist, ready to pounce on the target. "You're very welcome Captain. What took you so long?" Russell said to him with his back still turned to their faces, am action that seemed a turn-up to the operatives. "Guess you won't have to wait no more." He charged at him with his team following suite. Russell ske-daddled from the lunges and thrusts hurled at him from oblique directions by the agents, tap dancing lithely from a crescent kick thrown by the captain. With scant regard to the spray of blows and kicks, he scooted fluidly past the other two agents, sending the first hard against a wall with a heavy-pound kick, and the other face-first to the ground with a karate chop. Just before he could springly duck, a deadweight cut connect with his chest, the pain of which seared along the double plates sculpted out of his chest. He deflected three more blows following on its tail with inhuman reflex, sending the only lady on the team heavily to the floor with a submarine, and finishing up with double kicks that landed squarely on Johannes pectorals, which sent him reeling backward for few paces, before he lost his footing and blanked-out. "it's you and I now captain." He said with a flash of brown teeth. "Bleep you." The captain said in an irate tone, lunging at him with flood tide of strength high-rising in him. Russell scuddled into thin air like a cloud swerved by wind with his every lunges and swings, while he followed-up blindingly as rage blanketed his reasoning. Timing his every move with his transference into the shadow, Russell preconceived the backward jerk of his head and the flitting forward follow through before its impact. And swiftly teleported to the far-right hand of the hall on impulse induction. He gave a thin, narrow smile as the captain bonked his head against a wall and slumped to oblivion. "Nice try Captain." He theatrically smoothened his jumpsuit and sidled into the elevator. "Time to take flight Russell." Chaos blasted into the comm from the other end. "Coming through, hold on tight. Will you?" He rejoindered and scrammed out of sight like a blip on a boob-tube screen. "You guys will have hold on to me, if we're gonna get a chance to take flight." Russell spoke flatly to the inmates. "But how?" A skin head boy asked in a tinny voice. "Like this." Chaos edged toward his counterpart, holding on to the tail of his suit. "Now you follow suite." He said with a glance slid back at them. Without an ado but brows shot up in question, the inmates followed his gesture, forming a human chain along the process, and waiting on Russell's ineffable little promise. "Hold on a little more guys." He had the visual graphic of the hovercraft slit through the membrane of the several images of vivid places on his mind before burrowing deep into the gold mine of his soul, to bring on his priceless stock. All it takes was a lightning shift in time for them to be transported into another space➖the hovercraft. Afterward, they took into altitude, riding on air current, on to safe land, under the keen guidance of their lead pilot and his sub. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:12pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
godamnit: The wait in itself is the thrill boss |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:13pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
labi1977: It's almost time for action, no more waiting. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 4:45pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
This is what y'all been waiting for folks. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 4:47pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
ExInferis: |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 10:08pm On Mar 16, 2018 |
[quote author=Pinkfeet post=65842414] thanks for mention[/quote You're right welcome. And hope you do enjoy? |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 12:12am On Mar 17, 2018 |
Waiting on ya views on the latest updates... C'mon drop ya comments ya'll! |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:10am On Mar 17, 2018 |
CHAPTER TWO: HARD TO CRACK. Once again, Malcolm found the wheels of his life turned, not to his own influence or whimsy, but to the greater will of a force of nature; fate, whose thread has been spun not to his liking. The fifteen minutes ride over here on the hovercraft was snippy and filled with thrills and ineffable mirth and feel of freedom. While riding on high altitude and bypassing the ineluctable train of patrolling crafts of the CPF➖a bureau initiated by the cardinals as an equivalent for police forces on earth, with selfsame judicial purport and orbit over sting operation carried out to nail criminals; the panoramic view of the urban sprawl had warped into exurbia layout as he stared down through the window screen, until there wasn't a tint of building structures and life at their bearing, a place he had assumed to be at the tail-end of the planet Oberon. They had been saved from the prickling hurt of Hades and brought on to the middle of nowhere, in a bunker. Before long, a string of jump-suited men, pullulating through the thick of the bunch of inmates like an arm of the sea riveted him. At the runghead of the herd was a man with maroon hair and contrastive black soul patch, followed in turn by a voluptuous gold -haired woman, and the spare figure of a silver-grey-eyed man. The hums and buzzes within the clump abated as the man ascended the dais from across them in the vast proportional vestibule, bared of modern conveniences, with high-rising walls and ceiling. His electric blue eyes zeroed in over their billowy sea of heads. "Welcome home friends." He started plausibly on a high. "You all have been a witness to the cruelty of the human race, the black undertakings set before them by their hands, and the cold deeds of their own hearts. They've killed many of our kind without compunction, and won't stop until they rid everyone of us from their world, our world." Malcolm lopped his gaze away from the man, navigating down to the golden-haired woman, who stood at attention just like everyone trigged in the jumpsuit, with arms turned up behind her back; and over to the cluster of psychics; old and young assumed in suits, silkscreened on the breast with a big 'S' crossed at the bow by a symbol equal to a saltire. They were his kind and would take them in with good spirits, he presumed inwardly. The blue-eyed man continued with his address ever more glibly, homing his point into their hearts. "Humans has failed the law of the universe by attacking our kind and deeming us a threat to their world. But still, we rise again over the ruins, all because we put a bold front, all because we're supernaturals, the crown of the human race." With bravery rooting from impudency, the stacked woman minced up to the dais, eye-beaming the pack. "There's no silver bullet to saving the current world of man. You and I are the only answer to the dashing hope of the human race. And now that we can hold on to ourselves, we must seek a new balance." The slenderly built man with wring up nose also climbed up to the dais, standing cheek by jowl with the other speakers. "Your parents, families, friends are now of the past. Now, you'll make new friends and families in a world, where no one will judge you with your inborn gifts, nor be treated as garbage." He added monotonously with a dart of his index. "The humans: Your parents, friends and families are a bunch who get you all here, they pay you no regard while you're been locked up in that blinking black hole of the PHS, and now that you're gone from their claws, you must be more than willing for a payback." Malcolm goggled as the pack hollered back in affirmative like a thunderclap, with a flare of blood-and- guts delight coupled with rage. "That we'll all do." The maroon-haired man said this time, drawing the curtain of glib screening his left eye with his thumb. "We're wounded wolves driven to the background by them, and by our law, we'll strike back in packs." He paid no mind to the clamor of the pack of the sallow-faced psychics. "This we owe to the forgotten souls of our kind, who has suffered a dreary lot at the hands of humans. By this vow, we'll live till we see an end to the human race..." Another ear-splitting holloa rendered the air. "With our strength, might and blood and our last breath." "Yeah!" The crowd yelled in a war-like cry with a wild toss of their arms in midair. "The rise of a new dawn has just set in. Now, you'll all be given a walkthrough in your new home, make friends and use the wealth of the place to your good." He mopped up, climbed down the soapbox, and walked down the way he had come with his train of jump-suited psychics on his tail. The long-haired woman stepped prissily out of line of the ribbon-like stream of psychics trudging behind the man. An alluring smile flying over her delectable mug hollowed her cheeks. "I'll be your tour guide, you follow my lead." She pronounced each words with a prim of her lips at a time, waddling into the open embrace of an elevator on her left, while the pack followed at her heels. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 9:22am On Mar 17, 2018 |
More coming your way! |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 8:55pm On Mar 17, 2018 |
About to drop Nagasaki! |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by FictionEditor: 10:41am On Mar 18, 2018 |
You've got a good story buried somewhere, but, like one of the posters said, your words are coming across as pretentious. Characters seem to have no depth. Too much time is wasted on nothing. The first rule of fiction is 'Show. Don't tell.' The second most important rule (as far as I am concerned) is to leave out all unnecessary things when you're writing. If a word or scene or action does not enhance or advance the story in any way, leave it out. There should be no unnecessary parts in a book. Long-winded dialogue....cut it. Unnecessary smells and sounds....cut it. Cut out stuff till tears come to your eyes. There's nothing wrong with writing like Soyinka or Joyce, but you have to remember that those people (sometimes) had intellectual ideas running through their pages in addition to whatever prose was there. This is not to say that science fiction does not have intellectual ideas, but you have to understand that it is easy for your audience to get lost in terms and words instead of understanding the complexities of whatever world you're building. Things are already complex on one end. Don't make things hard(er) for your audience. Kudos for trying to write sci-fi. It's not the easiest genre out there to write (or master), but I'd advise that you read more books. Look for stuff from all sorts. Nnedi Okoroafor has found how to write in an uncomplicated way. Ben Okri's writing is sublime. Yes, it's easy to get lost in his complex creations, but when you emerge, it will be with the understanding of how to merge hard with easy. Check Amos Tutuola. Read Wole Talabi's stories (he will go very far in the sci-fi world). Enid Blyton's books with magic in them (this might appear simplistic, but you'd be surprised at how much went into building worlds in her books. Check the Faraway Tree stories). Read the Replica (Marilyn Kaye) series. Ray Bradbury's books. Orson Scott's stuff. Everything by Isaac Asimov (the original Baba the Baba of the sci-fi realm). Please, please, please...go and read his Foundation series. Google literary journals like Apex Magazine, Asimov's Science Fiction, Strange Horizons, and Clarkesworld. See how people weave short stories. When you're done, start your stories with that much oomph and then go from there. The long and short of this...please don't try to write after watching sci-fi movies. Those things are adapted to appeal to sight and sound, hence the word choices, sounds, actions...etc. Read voraciously, and as you do, you'll get better. I'm currently reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy. You should read that too. If you need someone to evaluate your story before it goes up, get in touch. I won't edit anything because that's a paid service, but I can tell you what to tweak. 1 Like 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by just2day: 12:26pm On Mar 18, 2018 |
FictionEditor: The answer to life, The Universe and Everything is... 42! Had a mini geek gasm from your list. Been years since I read those books; well except for the Nigerian authors, sadly haven't read those. To pile on, Dune, Hyperion, Terry Pratchett are hurt you left them out. Starship Troopers could help shape the militaristic aspects 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by FictionEditor: 3:30pm On Mar 18, 2018 |
Lol.  Let me make things right: Dear OP: Go and read Hyperion by Dan Simmons Terry Pratchett's Discworld series Frank Herbert's Dune Ursula Le Guin's books (fantasy and sci-fi) Starship will help, too Thank you, Just2day. Please, google Wole Talabi. You'll be amazed. just2day: 2 Likes 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 12:05am On Mar 19, 2018 |
Malcolm pulled at the slide fastener, built-in at the side of his jumpsuit, and which run the length from below his armpit down to his hip bone. He drew in a breath, taking it easy on his bed in a room he shared with three other roomies. The room was small but nice, with no mod con, yet affording the comfort he yearned in the throat of Hades. After the jaunt through the entrails of their new home, which was a right-down rubbernecking through the grand hallways of the levels in the dugout, of which several rooms open. Mahalia McKee, the toothsome woman, who had played their tour guide all through the pleasure-trip had shown them to the staging area of the building, fitted out with lots of high-tech widgets. And later on to the domiciliary level, where they were stripped of their old rigs➖an orange bodysuit which markedly keyed them as inmates of the PHS, and handed with similar rigs worn by every psychics in their new domicile. Mahalia had also shown them to the array of block of cans, before walking off to grant them the room for a private space in their own little circle. Long after his insession in the tub, a fling of scrubbing and lathering his body in a powerwash, spanning ten minutes, and which left his skin paper-thin with a backwash of titillating freshness. He had walked into the room at the prescription of a chest tone voice of a lady blasting through the squawker within the level, pointing them into their various rooms. "Now, you can all turn in on your bed, tomorrow marks a new beginning for you all." The voice boomed again, creating a niche in his mentation. It really was a new turn in the course of his life, and that of the bunch, who had nailed through the tendrils of the PHS with him. A new dawn has just arrive for them and their kind. He plonked into his bed flat on his back as his system was switched-over by the flash flood of sleep, which takes him on a swing to dream world. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 12:08am On Mar 19, 2018 |
The PHS HQ run over with activities just like normal times, with fleet-footed guards and agents bristling through every level while a workforce from a private corporation charged with the restitution of the incursive meltdown, a day ago were wrapped up in the rebuilding process of the building. On the fifteenth level of the tower, the director; a man of midget make-up walked fleetly down the hall with the two jumbo agents assigned to him after the psychics' penetration into the building yesterday. He set his gaze straight before him and watched the cybernated door of the staging room discerped sibilantly, while he stepped to the fore of the room, where the operatives engaged in the busywork of gaining intelligence on the attack yesterday bounced to their feet. "But you shouldn't be here today Director." Fontaine faltered, pressing lightly on the gauze-patched spot on his temple. He had suffered a major cut from the bop yesterday and has been sutured up shortly after regaining consciousness, but still, he felt a little throb in his head. "Not after the sock to our face yesterday captain." The director paced to the middle of the room, to have the centered attention of the room. "The ground attack here yesterday may never see past the wall of silence to get to the masses, but will never be overlooked by the authority." He added in a harsh-tight tone. "We ain't conscious of any possible attack from any side, sir. We won't take no chances anymore." The captain explained in a falling pitch. The director gave a nervous guffaw and made amblingly over to him. "Wouldn't take chances anymore? I guess, there's no room for that captain." He said susuringly against his neck, inflecting his next words for all to hear. "I just receive a summon from the cardinals, guess they'll be needing some explanations at their next sitting." "All we need now is some time, Director..." Fontaine bumbled. The director hushed him up before he blether on with a wave of his index. "There's nothing to say here captain, nothing I say. You've hi-tech intelligence contrivances at your disposal for Bleep's sake. So you better step up your pace or I shut down this unit of yours for a much better team out there." He landed up with his harsh on, shooting out of the room like an arrow with his details. Fontaine sneaked a fleeting glance over to his team, cognizant of the blue look on their faces. "Mona, what've we got this time?" "Nothing real promising." She wheeled herself over to the front of an active matrix screened-computer surmounting a tabletop in the room. "Every lead is pointing to this." She magnified a 'S' and saltire logo on the screen. "Supernaculars? What's their stand in this?" Greg asked with a popeyed expression. "Supernaculars are a belligerent sub-rosa agency of the psychics, whose goals are basically pinned on working havoc on the human race." Mona explicated double quickly. "But why are we just knowing this?" Johannes enquired this time. Mia gave a mercurial answer to his question. "Because they've long been planning something big in the shadows, and now they've got bigger than that shadow." "I found this confusing anyway." Greg respired and continued. "There wasn't a known figure of a psyche survivor after 'PROJECT VESUVIUS' "I guess that's what they want us to believe." Fontaine came out after his long respite from the discourse. "Now you get to have yourself a new article of faith since we've a rogue agency of the psychic out there, somewhere." "There isn't a cue on this subject anymore than we already had." Mona said despondingly, burying her face in her palms. "Anything but the fact that this rogue agency has an unknown figure of personnels and has already inducted a score of psychics we held captive in Hades." Mia surmised with hard-nosed intelligence. "And having them on the loose is quite a disaster." Johannes added glumly. Fontaine strode over to the wall hanging partitioned computes, his black eyes turned flickly icy. "Now we have a game at hand with no chances to spare." |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 5:05pm On Mar 21, 2018 |
Malcolm sat high-strung in his seat alone in a room with a woman of zaftig body-build and limpid sapphire eyes, that could turn most beholder molten at sight. He shammed composure, while the bundle of filiform nerve cells tendriled tautly through his body, with his viscera looped by an unseen hands from the inside, out of anxiety. Before walking up into the room, he had the precognition of what lies within its walls. Their fate are to be sealed as promised earlier, within the core of the room's double-glaze walls, which dampen noise and heat transmission. They had been gathered earlier in a large hall on a level they were denied the access to see on their expedition yesterday. And he had sat back watching as the assembly thinned-out at the annunciation of a female voice which calls them into a walk-in at the leftmost end of the hall, with none of the young psychics returning back to the hall. Last not least, he had been called in as the last name on the rung of the long list of the psychics assembled in the hall, and he had stepped into the room aware of the psyche testing that will landmarked his induction into the agency. Psychics had been assorted into four dissenting circles or houses: The Undaunted; a faction with superhuman strength, agility, reflexes and innate combative skills. They're the warriors, the roughshod of all the houses, the brockish of the psychics, whose instinctive impulse is blood-and-guts for mayhem. The Anomals, are those affinal with ESP: Telepathy, clairaudience, remote sensing, psychometry, clairvoyance, retrocognition, scrying in all. The Variant, are a strain of psychics affined with shapeshifting/mimicry, invincibility, apportation, transvection, levitation, prehensory and lapidification. While the psychal-physics, a breed of paranormal that could handle the Empedoclean elements[I.e fire, water, air and earth], the kinematics, and acoustic manipulation are the last phase of the factions. He watched as the perverse psychic across him shut her eyes, straining to hit the vacuous space within her soul. A perverse is any psychic that could ramble through or harness two or more superpower abilities within the compass of a house. This he had learnt overnight by listening in to the talk of his roomie, and with the aura of apparent power spreading through the room, likewise the tentacles his mind was caught in, he could tell the woman was an anomal perverse. She had an absolute control over his mind, no matter how badly he endeavoured to pull her out. "Malcolm Selwyn, age; fifteen." The woman began with her oral profiling of him in a trance-like medium. Her eyes still tightly sealed in. "Breach birth, only child, telekine affinity." A groan escaped her mouth has she reached deeper into the abysmal depth of his soul. "Could only see the supernatant power in his mind, any more trials would run down my psychic strength." She managed out through clinched teeth, heaving heavily afterwards. Malcolm fixed a naive regard on the woman, not solely because she had taken him on a spin to his past, but also to his own deniable shock as sweat jetted down the side of her face. "Does it takes that much inner strength?' He asked, wondering what it really takes for a psychometry inquiry. "Go through that door Malcolm." She said in a hedged response, pointing him to a door he had barely noticed when walking into the room. He shot to his feet, disregarding the woman's feckless attempt to pointedly evade his question. "Take the first bend to your right down the hall. There you'll find your kind; the psychal-physics." She gave an offhanded description and watched as he made trippingly through the door. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 5:08pm On Mar 21, 2018 |
"C'mon Malcolm, draw out already." Malcolm heard the seal-brown haired psychic trainer said snappishly to him the umpteenth time. Since he was called-up from the stand amidst the scant psychal-physics foregathered in the court-like training room, geared with dummies and several callisthenics apparatus; he hasn't drew out a driblet of power from the well of his psychic gift, let alone sent the dummy ten yards out from him crashing against a wall with a kinematic blast. Standing in heart-sickening chagrin, he could feel the squint glances of other paranormals seated on the tiered seats of the training room burning at an intense therm on his nape, likewise the wheedling look he had seen on Musonda's visage while sliding a glance his way. Through the thick of his misery, which has the slithery floor of the room quechy under him. His gaze skidded over to the balustrade balcony of the room, past the anomal perverse he had met during his psychoscopy test, and settling over the maroon-haired man, who he presumed to be the leader of the psychics and a tops in the agency. He wasn't in any means a Clairaudient, but he could tell the weasel-faced man was talking about him with the woman. "You think he's got enough psyche power in him?" He asked whisperingly, bracing his elbows on the silver-plated balusters. The woman wavered before giving a response. She was conscious the man had the test-room wired, and listen in on every test carried through in the double-glazed walls of the room. Back in there, through the session with the boy, she had sapiently held back information a great deal. The boy wasn't just any psychic, but a rare stock of their kind; he was a universal, a strain of the paranormals that could route through every house of the psychics, and access as many of its super powers. Being a universal, the kid was a high-octane psychic with a sea as the measure of his power, rather than the well quantify of most psychics, including herself. "What I discern about him through the test was, he is still a newbie to our world." She returned over the long haul in her apt low-pitch tone. "Remember what you said about him back in there?" He perturbed her with another question, knowing how well she was indisposed to answering questions and long discuss. "About seeing into the supernatant power of the well in his mind right?" "Exactly. I was wondering what's wrong with you back in there." He stared at the kid with an indignant expression embed on his face. "Nothing really. Guess I was dog-tired already." She gave a transparent lie, looking away from him. She hadn't lied back in there when she had talked about seeing the kid's supernatant powers. Through the session with him, she had channeled into his mind, groping for the spring of his connation power, only to find to her own dismay, the great rolling ocean within him. Like a sharp-witted swimmer faced by a limitless ocean, she had swung around before making the mistake of scrying any longer and getting drown in the sea housed within the young psychic soul. "So what do you say we do?" "Time." She tossed a look at the boy, who stood like a sculpt on a spot, helpless and unable to reach out into the overflowing luxury of his mind. "let's give him some time." "That we'll do." He said, marching out through the door on the balcony, and out of eyeshot. "You really must learn Malcolm." She said to herself, sauntering down the opposite way the man had gone. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 1:57pm On Mar 24, 2018 |
An hovercraft streaked across the steel-blue skyline of the Mona Capitolinus➖the district capital of Oberon, and the seat of the Capitol building, where the cardinals meets, leaving a scintillant line of cloud as a trail through its wings and a sonic boom. Shortly, the craft nosed down in a downward slope, slewing past several steeple-crowned buildings within a quarter mile radius of the Capitol building. Director Klast Jansen of the PHS sat leg-crossed behind the glass partitioned cockpit of the craft, stroking the muzzle of a dead ringer poodle dog nestled on the cliff of his thigh. His gaze rambled off into the distance, stopping over on the stately columned-telamon front of the steep glazed Capitol building, and winding up its idle course at its side vast awing stretch of lawn. This wasn't the cardinals first summon of him. Ever since he took on as the head of the PHS, there's always been too much for him to bear on his shoulders, more than enough calls for him to answer to, an article of faith and laid up code he must live by, and a stream of head he had to ford with or without good conscience. The craft plunged into its final descent, with its engine on the cusp of sound barrier whirring on a low as the pilot drew up in a lots, few yards from the Capitol. "How much long for the session sir?" The pilot radioed from the cockpit. "Half an hour should do." He took a flashing glance at his gold-plated watch and added. "We'll be having a little discuss, nothing more." "Alright sir." He ducked his head in curtsy and heard the slam of the portal, followed by the yelp of slip creature the director had left behind. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 2:45pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
More coming your way soon |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by itsandi(m): 6:14pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
1 Like 1 Share |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 7:25pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
Director Klast stood, running his eyes down the planated ceiling of the Capitol's turgid hall; a network of pane glasses from which an icicle of inverse parabola modular surveillance camera protruded. Gradually, his gaze traveled down the caput of the two-tiered seatings of the squared hall, that was the seat of the cardinal's head, and lower down to the neck region which seats other members of the coterie. The building had been built in a three-tier level; the caput, neck and the stomach level, with the seats plugged deep into the glass walls. "Director Klast, we've summoned you here for a briefing on the ground attack carried out by psychics within the secured walls of the PHS, that led to the escape of no less than a score of psychics held captive by your agency." The man seated on the crest level of the building addressed. Mr. Walter Marlowe was the chair head of the cardinals➖a coterie of prominent leaders of the human race, equal to that of the church in all prospects, only that they are fifty in number. This was his third year as the prime capital of the human race, and with no dotage to assail the seventy-nine years old man; whose face was a track of interstice stenciled lines, and head, an acre sparse of hair. He had the right mind and firm grasp on the reins of administration. "I'm ready and willing to answer every question asked by the house." Klast spoke unblinkingly with no waver to his voice. "Well spoken." Marlowe pounded a hammer on an anvil once. "Let the session commence now." Klast nerved himself against the tangle network of Q and A session he was caught up in, feeling the sudden race of streamlet of sweat down his spine. "Director Klast, will you be kind enough to explain before the house how an hostile duo of psychic infiltrate into the highly secured building of the PHS." The first kind of various in line tiresome questions was tossed at him by a rum-nosed man dressed in the cardinal's heraldic tunic emblazoned at the breast with a crowned eagle and a lying lion bearing a pitchfork. Klast loosed a breath and gave a pat response. "The attackers accessed the building through paranormal means which I feared our hi-tech security measures couldn't keep a track on." "Director Klast." A lady's balmy voice called this time. "Yes Ma'am." "What was the attackers escape route and how well did your team of operatives countered the sudden sabotage carried out by the psychics?" The short-bodied lady asked. "Well, every PHS operatives are combat ready round the clock and we'll put up a good fight, only that we lost out to the rogue psychics." He took a breath and continued. "They escaped through the lots in an unidentified craft." "Director Klast, I'll like to know if the PHS already has a concrete lead on the attack." A tufty-haired man asked from the stand. "No sir." He explicated. "One of the psychics was caught on several windows of the building's surveillance system. I had a team run his face under facial recognition, but we found nothing on him on our database." One of the cardinal's fireball, a flap-mouthed man with ropey magenta hair had his first mention in the treatment. "Director Klast, did your agency in any way found something noteworthy on this case yet?" "Actually, we did." He laid his palm flat against the border of the stump he was boxed in at the foot of the hall. "We've a name of a hostile psychic agency called the Supernaculars." He said in accordance with the fill-in he had received from the captain. "We think they're responsible for the rescue attack and has already inducted the figures once in our hold and many more." "Director Klast, can we get to know for how long this agency has been in operation while off the radar?" A voice asked in a broken note from the assembly of bigwig faces. "Am afraid we don't have a thing on that. But we can easily surmise that they've got a low-profile operation going on for long and off grid." "This has called for a bold step now, Director Klast." Marlowe, the top dog of the sitting said. "With the vast flux of high intelligence with the PHS, the cardinals and the whole lot of the surviving human race on planet Oberon are expecting you and your team to put a stop to the menace of the supernaculars, curb them at all cost, and pick up as many as possible belligerent psychics." He slapped the hammer against the face of the anvil twice and added. "This will be an end to your session." |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 7:25pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
You needn't wait any longer. |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 7:26pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
itsandi: Hope it's worth your time |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by holarbolu(m): 8:30pm On Mar 26, 2018 |
What ya think of this already? |
| Re: Supernaculars [the Renascence] A Sci-fantasy Novel by itsandi(m): 6:03pm On Mar 27, 2018 |
Yes. Sure! holarbolu: 1 Like |
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