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Gabriel
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#1
Old 03-09-2007, 12:24 PM

I've been a "talented" writer for years. I quote talented, as artists and writers are always their own harshest critiques. ^^;

At any rate, I tend to write a great deal of fan-fics.

I have a special policy when it comes to writing them, however, as I absolutely HATE to write about the main character, or do anything that would significantly alter the main storyline.

I personally prefer to write about an all-new custom-created character, with an in-depth background and a story that happens before, after, or parallel to the main storyline, with little or even no encounters with the main characters, sometimes the main characters only getting a brief, sometimes unnamed cameo in my work. For example, in a Kingdom Hearts Fic I wrote, Sora was described as some "Spikey-Haired Child with a strange sword."

My most recent work happens to revolve around the storyline of Resident Evil 4.

I became so enthralled with the beautiful game-and-storyline of RE-4 ((Before it, I had never been able to stomach the gameplay of the other Resi-Evils))

Well, as I had become so enthralled, at times I would think up strange alternate storylines, as my affection for Ashley grew and my hatred for the Granados grew as well.

At any rate, what cooked up had originally been a simple side-story, sorta like the "Assignment Ada" missions for my personal character, a sentient B.O.W.

What I ended up with was an absolutely massive, novel-length storyline that takes place in three parts. A side-plot leading up to the events that happened in Raccoon City and also taking place during the initial outbreak, as well as my main storyline of the Resi-Evil 4 plot, and finally an all-original "apocalyptic" part three, taking place several years after the conclusion of the second part.

Well, I take a great deal of pride in my work and strive for authenticity.

I had written out a base storyline, but scrapped it upon taking further and deeper interest in the full-blown storyline.

I managed to obtain all of S.D. Perry's Resi-Evil novel's and have been reading through them ever since. =3

As a treat for the Resi-Evil fans here on Menewsha, I'm going to keep some online updates and story-snippets of what I'm writing here. ((Something I'd never do on Gaia))

I hope even die-hard Resi-Evil fanatics will get some enjoyment out of my work.

I'll post some soon. ^_^

Thanks for reading!

[[Project - 01]]

Star Wars - "Clone Wars, Untold Stories"


[[Project - 02]]

Resident Evil - "The Heart of Mutation"



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#2
Old 03-09-2007, 12:49 PM

The following is something I had written...my, my, it's had to have been two years now.

This was the original concept for my Star Wars Clone Wars series of short-stories.

It has a few childish parts, I suppose, but honestly I think it was worth holding onto, as a good ideal of how my work used to be, and what it is now.

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#3
Old 03-09-2007, 12:51 PM

"I'll never walk again... But my hands work fine. Patch me up before I bleed to death, then give me a gun." — Alpha



Chapter 1. The 182nd Legion; Felucia's greatest casualty. (Part 1)

-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--==-==-=-=-=-

182nd record log; Felucia campaign, day 28.


“WE’RE BEING OVERRUN! NEED EVAC!”

“WE’VE GOT DROIDEKAS! REQUESTING ASSISTANCE!”

“FIVE MEN DOWN! TWO DEAD, THE REST NEED IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ASSISTANCE! REQUESTING EVAC!”

“WE GOT AAT’S! CAN WE GET A DEMOLITIONS CREW OVER HERE?”

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK FROM THE NATIVE BEASTS! DAMN IT! BLAST THE – AAAIRGH!!!!”

“PUSH THEM BACK! I WANT TO MAKE A SHIP OUT OF THIS SCRAP METAL!! YEEAAAH! THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!! TAKE ‘EM OUT YOLTA!”

“Hmm…good. Very good. We’re making excellent progress.”

Far from the battle, in a sheltered grove that now acted as the command post for the 182nd Clone Legion, Clone Commander Venator stood motionless wearily watching the battle. The brownish-green emblazoned commander shook his head as he repeated his words quietly to himself as staff lieutenants buzzed around him. For a nearly a month the clone forces had been here. For nearly a month they had been the targets of constant attacks from enemy forces. For nearly a month they had been forced to learn through trial and error how to repel the innumerable predators that inhabited the planet. For nearly a month they had launched countless attacks against the Battle Droid forces of the CIS. For nearly a month they had been beaten back. The once proud 182nd commander was at the end of his sanity.

“Sir! We’ve lost all contact with squads two and five!” shouted a camouflaged officer from a table displaying communication information. “Oh no! Enemy mines and mortar fire have destroyed our AT-TE! The rest of those squadrons are stranded out there!”

“WE NEED EVAC!”

“REQUESTING IMMEDIATE MEDICAL ASSISTANCE!!!”

“THESE AAT’S ARE TEARING US TO SHREADS! WE NEED HELP!”

“HA! THAT’S RIGHT! KEEP GOING! KEEP GOING! DAMN IT VLAD! I’VE LOST COUNT! HOW MANY DOES THAT MAKE? YEEEAAAH! WE COULD MAKE A FORTUNE OFF OF ALL THIS SCRAP METAL!!!”

“Sir what are we going to do?” Asked the officer desperately. Sir! What are we going to do?”

The commander simply bowed his head.

“Sir! A large amount of enemy forces are moving in this direction!” Shouted a officer who stood monitoring enemy positions. “Enemy tanks not far from our position!! They’ll be in firing range soon!”

“Sir! We’ve lost contact with squads three and four!”

“DAMN IT! THERE ARE TOO MANY OF THEM! SIR! I’M OUT OF AMMO! WHERE IS OUR EVAC!?! COMMAND!! WHERE ARE YOU!?! EAAARGH!!!”

“THAT’S RIGHT!!! WHOO! HEADSHOT! WE NEED MORE TROOPERS LIKE YOU! YOLTA! MORTIA! VLAD! TAKE ‘EM OUT!”

“Sir! Squad one has broken off contact…”

“SIR! Enemy AAT’s are within firing range!!!”

“SIR! CIS forces have engaged our perimeter forces!!”

“SIR! WE NEED TO DO SOMETHING NOW!”

Commander Venator only bowed his head further. It was hopeless. They were outmatched, out gunned, and without any hope of support. The nightmarish creatures that called this hellhole their home had already annihilated a third of his men. The CIS had taken care of another third. Hope was lost…they were lost. Felucia was all but gone.

“COMMANDER!! What are we going to do!?”

Bred to be quick thinking and all but independent, bred with the top military strategies implanted into his mind. Bred with unnatural reflexes and skills with a strong tactical sense in mind and a fierce loyalty to the Republic, Commander Venator had once been a proud man who had done his part in the war against the Confederacy. The man that stood in the dapple greenish-brown armor, the man who had accepted the movement orders to Felucia readily and willingly, the man who had seen an entire squadron ripped to shreds by ravenous acklay beasts, the man who had watched helplessly as a dear friend of his was devoured by a gelatinous beast only to find it impervious to blasters, the man who had lost all hope, the man who had slipped into a state of insane hopelessness…collapsed to the floor in a heap of plasteel armor.

“ALL FORCES RETREAT! RETREAT!!!”

The stunned staff around him watched in horror as the veteran buckled under the pressure of commanding a dying army.

“Sir…I…” began one of the green armored lieutenants, “We haven’t –“

“INCOMMING MORTAR FIRE!”



“BAAM! By the Force! We did it! Damn good shooting men!” Lieutenant Commander “Longshot”, as his men affectionately called him, slapped a gloved hand on the backs of his seven-squad mates. “That was some of the best shooting I have ever seen men! Hah! Command was right to send us to take the “untouchable” Northeastern tree! Hahaha!” The proud Lieutenant Commander removed his helmet and gave a shout of victory. His dark, scarred skin reflected his experience in many a battle against the droid forces of the CIS. In the eyes of many of his men, he should have been made commander of the 182nd Legion. He, though not ARC trained, had seen plenty more combat than that of Commander Venator.

“This proves it!” called out a sniper in distinct armor. “You should have definitely been made head of our entire legion!” Laughter erupted from the group of clone troopers. The seven men Lieutenant Longshot had been assigned too had quickly became more than his subordinates but his friends. Each of them brought forth exceptional skill in their area of expertise as well as incredible bravery and loyalty. Each of the men had taken their own names even. Actions that, though not recognized by the higher ups were well known through the ranks of soldiers that made up the 182nd. He himself had gained the name of “Longshot” from his tenancy to take tasks that were deemed suicidal to him and his men, and yet always come out on top with a shout of victory.

“Hell, Yolta. If I was assigned to be the commander of this fine legion,” Longshot laughed as he shook his head, “I wouldn’t have had to deal with all the praise and promotions that came with the janitorial services of this tree.”

The circle of men joined in his laughter as they began to praise each other on the actions taken in battle. Yet again, squad six had entered a mission with eight men and remained with eight men to the end.

Commander Longshot beamed happily as he slapped a hand down on the shoulders of two other men. “Mortia, I have never seen so many shotgun holes in a droid frame! Vlad, how many did you get? Fifty? Sixty? A hundred?” He turned to the distinctly armored sniper. “Was there a single droid that you did not knock the head off of?” The sniper laughed. “Yeah, there was this one engineer that fell off the platform before I could shoot it…thanks to YOU Vlad!” He removed his helmet and grinned at his long-time friend. He also slapped a gloved hand on the back of the newest member of the group, a younger clone coming to this hellish place directly from Kamino. The squadron had readily welcomed him and gave him a crash course in the ways of combat. His quiet nature and rather somber personality had earned him the nickname of “Mortia” from his squad mates. Yolta slapped his “apprentice” on the back proudly.

“That’s how it’s done, kid. More fighting like that and we’ll have this entire war finished by next week!” he grimaced slightly as he recalled the seven years he had spent training and the three hellish months he had already served in the war.

The clone engineer nodded. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Hah ha! Will you lighten up?” shouted Sergeant “Vlad” who had originally relinquished control of squad six to Lieutenant Longshot.

“Hey, c’mon. He did good, Vlad.” Interjected Yolta with another grin. He paused abruptly as he pondered a small question.

A few meters away Lieutenant Longshot spoke with the squad’s communication specialist, “Static”.

“Static, radio the home base and let them know that the great Northeastern tree now belongs to the Republic!”

“Yes sir!”

Yolta scratched his head as Vlad and Mortia continued to converse about the recent mission. “You know what, Vlad…you already had that nickname when I first met you on Manaan. Where did you get that name anyways?”

Vlad shrugged and sat down on a nearby crate of supplies. “Well, it started on the Cato-Nemodia campaign when –”

“Sir!” Static’s voice cut in almost at a panic over the group. Lieutenant Longshot swiftly came to his side. “What is it soldier?”

“We…we’ve lost all contact with Command…this thing says they’ve been completely destroyed!”

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#4
Old 03-09-2007, 01:57 PM

This is a sample of the opening of "Heart of Mutation"

I scrapped this, but since I'll be keeping a log of writing work for you all to enjoy, I figured I might as well post this.

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#5
Old 03-09-2007, 01:58 PM

Is…this thing working?

…you’re listening to this aren’t you? I’ve got a bit of time right now. “One” shouldn’t be here for a short while, so I suppose I could ah…provide some information as of what is happening here. Why? From the time of my creation, I was taught to support others - Human or not. Ah…you might be wondering about that last little bit. Well, I suppose if you’re listening to this, you should know exactly what I am.

My name is Crim. Well… “Crim” is the code name of the entire class of creatures in which I fall into. You see I am a weapon – a B.O.W. or Bio-Organic Weapon. Created by Umbrella Corporation. It’s the usual story. Created as a war weapon, secret project, all for the sake of killing humans – ah I mean…for “Bettering all of Humanity”. Right. And it has the usual twist – they didn’t count on our lack of certain “loyalties” - and they didn’t count on our “evolution” either.

…but I’ll get to that soon enough.

Anyways…let me start off by giving you a little bit of a history lesson. First off – Umbrella Corporation. Now, if you’re listening to this, and you still don’t know what Umbrella is, then you’ve either just been created yourself, or you’ve lived underground for the past 10 years. Founded in the 1960s, Umbrella has become a household name, mainly focusing on pharmaceutical items. However, I’ve heard their name is also slapped on soft drinks, cosmetics, and all sorts of weaponry. Umbrella, naturally, does have a very dark history.

Now, again, assuming you’re not some underground mutant, I’ll direct you to your memory banks of the Raccoon City incident seven years ago. That whole… “Outbreak”. Yes, Umbrella was the cause of that, however, many don’t really understand exactly what happened. I’m not here to tell you that story though. All I can say is that this world hasn’t been the same since.

Now, I’m hoping you’re starting to understand that Umbrella likes its’ secrets. I’m one of them. My entire class is one. As I said earlier – I’m a B.O.W. Get used to the word. You’ll hear it a lot.

Now…to address exactly what I am…I’m certain you’re a little bit curious, so here goes. Try to follow along.

I’m a… “Vampire”. Well, a vampire of sorts. I really don’t like the word. In fact the ideal of leeching onto something for food disgusts me. It did the same for most of the Crims. Anyways, we are the result of a perfect splicing with the T-Virus…you know that whole thing that turns people into mindless walking flesh-bags? Raccoon City? Try to keep up. Anyways…we weren’t affected like they were. We were…different. We accepted the virus and we became unlike anything the world has ever seen before.

Essentially we’re clones. Grown in a laboratory from the point of our creation, but based off of certain, and to my knowledge, deceased individuals. We were all raised by our own caretakers…what you, assuming you’re not a sentient creature…which would make me wonder why you’re listening to this in the first place…unless you’re a creature which is currently feasting on the remains of whatever sentient creature whom was listening to this in the first place…

……and in that case…keep up the good work. Just don’t damage this recording. Wait…where was I? Oh yeah…

Right…Caretakers. Our…“Parents”.

Each of us had one, maybe two caretakers. They cared for us and protected us. Taught us what we needed to know to live, but also taught us other things. We grew…at a very fast rate. Four times as fast as the normal human. Though we were originally meant to be weapons, and were to be raised as such, the higher-ups seemed to take interest in other areas of “Research” and the team of scientists designated to raise the Crims were given a pretty loose leash. They raised us as children, and we began to feel what I think is called “emotion”. Well, most of us…but I’ll get to that later as well.

As much as it pains me to say it, “Vampire” is the best word to describe us. We look similar to humans, as in the ones we were cloned after, yet we hold a few…unique traits. For one…our frame is a little bit thinner than the normal human. Our bodies are slim and flexible, surprisingly heavy, but unnaturally agile. I’m not even sure why I use the word “unnatural”…as I really don’t know what “natural” is. Anyways…we’ve got speed, power, and to top it all off, surprisingly high endurance. Most close-quarters as well as projectile weaponry is all but useless against us, as our bodies tend to heal at remarkable rates, or at least we’re capable of keeping our lethality at the highest level, regardless of injuries. To this date, the only real way I’ve known our kind to die was what would be called “severe head trauma”…though basically it was one of our own getting his skull thrust though his own chest. In summary, crack our skulls in and we’ll stay dead. It won’t work on all of us it seems, as evolution waits for no one. Unfortunately, we haven’t outgrown our appetites. Another weakness of us is the fact that we do have to continue feeding. Blood can sustain us longer than any other foodstuffs, however…we’re too proud to feed on others. So we take to eating food…lots and lots of food…but yeah, enough about telling you how to kill us.

Now, we’re weapons…but exactly who are we? Personality defines us, and allows us to fit in with the world. I myself speak in a way you might consider “different”. A nifty little trait picked up from my caretaker - a woman named Amelia. 27 years old, and what humans would describe as “beautiful”. She always told me of her home, at breaks between tests, and said if she ever did get the chance she’d like to take me there…something about a place with a Giant Clock named Ben. She spoke differently from the other scientists, and I suppose I picked up on it.

Well, I suppose a little bit of information about the others is needed, but I’m out of time for now. “One” is on his way, and from the sound of it, he’s not about to let anything stop him. It’s up to me, and the few surviving others to stop him before he reaches “Zero”.

I can’t really begin to think of what might happen then.

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#6
Old 03-09-2007, 02:00 PM

Crim Unit Information


Notes for the future...basic character development.


Number /// Gender /// Caretaker /// Personality /// Special

01 /// Male /// ? /// ? /// Leadership

02 /// Male /// Delia, Simon S. /// Quiet, Withdrawn /// Organization

03 /// Female /// Ray, Matilda G. /// Adamant, Demanding ///Tactics and Deployment

04 /// Male /// Ark, Jennifer L. /// Serious, Focused /// Medical/Medical Related

05 /// Female /// Den, Sal M. /// Chaotic, Unstable /// Enforcement

06 /// Male /// Den, Mary L. /// Chaotic, Unstable /// Enforcement

07 /// Male /// Van’Da, John F. /// Cold, Lonesome /// Hostile Negotiations

08 /// Male /// Valjean, Jean M. /// Tense, Imperative /// Tactical Strategy

09 /// Female /// Timms, Alex T. /// Caring, Cautious /// Situation Assessment

10 /// Female /// Cran, Janice A. - Peters, Ashe L. /// Chaotic, Unstable /// Hostile Negotiations

11 /// Male /// Colles, Gary R. /// Hostile, Aggressive /// Tactical Reinforcement

12 /// Female /// Rem, Madi A. /// Chaotic, Unstable /// Special Intelligence and Assessment

13 /// Male /// Toni, Arthur F. /// Relaxed, Carefree /// Hostile Infiltration

14 /// Male /// Smith, Bast L. /// Self Reliant, Confident /// Tactical Strategy

15 /// Female /// Nami, Kylie A. /// Apprehensive, Insecure /// Information Relay and Assessment

16 /// Male /// Lin, Austin A. /// Discreet, Shrewd /// Information Relay and Assessment

17 /// Male /// Jules, Amelia G. /// Trusting, Careful /// Special Assistance and Organization

18 /// Female /// Griffin, Naomi I. /// Organized, Orderly /// Tactical Organization

19 /// Male /// Ein, Gabriel S. /// Withdrawn, Adaptive /// Tactical Reinforcement

20 /// Male /// ? /// ? /// Order and Consequence

 


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