I kick ass
So I'm doing my usual thing and attending a high-class gala put on by the university. One of my bosses is there and while she's speaking the ground begins to shake violently from the impact of several pods from space. I know this because I immediately begin receiving the news from my inter-cranial-web-implant. While others are racing to television screens or stampeding terrified towards the exits I learn that the earth is being invaded, but not in any traditional sense.
As the beginning details begin to filter through I notice several of my peers begin to writhe in pain and begin fantastical transformations. Many more seem to die mid-change, frozen in grotesque parodies of life.
Over-whelmed by it all, despite all of my secret governmental training and reaction-suppression gear, I could only watch in shock until they burst into the ArtsGarden. They were two large, robotic war-drones. After a quick sweep of the room they began to vaporize the warped dead and the unchanged alike. My training finally kicked in and I was able to dodge a blast meant for me and hide myself away in the thick metal girders of the glass, hemispherical structure hanging above the intersection of Washington and Meridian streets. After their work had been completed they stepped in unison to the still convulsing form of my (former) employer and helped her up from the floor. Her new form was not completely unlike her old form, but there was nothing resembling her at the same time. Scales mixed with fur across her broad, green, misshapen shoulders. Her face was all mouth and a whip-like tongue hung from one side of it as she shrugged off the remaining fugue of her transformation.
Once clear-headed again she made several inquiries of the war-drones and within seconds it was apparent to anyone left observing that she was indeed in charge of the situation. Those peers of mine left, now fully changed into their new forms, began conversing slowly and then the barrage of voices grew to a full fledged assault of my still human senses. They no longer smelled human. They didn't sound human. They certainly didn't look human.
I noticed at almost the same instant the war-drone had, that I had removed my ceramic auto-pistol from its slender holster inside my left jacket breast and drawn aim upon the parasitic being that had transformed the host-body of my former boss. Realizing instantly that I had overstayed my welcome, I reacted solely on programmed instincts. As the beam I had hidden behind scattered into its component atoms I managed a reverse-somersault through the glass behind me and slid to rest at the edge of the ArtsGarden structure before quickly choosing the path of best coverage for my continued flight from disintegration.
It had all happened too quickly, but once concealed in one of my few well-stocked bolt-holes I was able to fill in some of the remaining blanks. Having reestablished my net-feed from a secure source we agents were able to compile all that we had seen and heard with telemetry data from satellites and telescopes on the ground. It took days in hiding and several dangerous gathering missions among the few of us remaining, but the picture was beginning to become much clearer. The pods, once broken open upon impact, began releasing the very essence of a long-dead race of beings from a far away system... possibly even extra galactic in origin. This 'essence' caused the people of Earth to be transformed into beings of feline, reptilian or mixed heritage; wholly unearthly in their new forms and immediately fluent in their long-dead tongue. The invaders technology was light-years ahead of our own and so simplistic in its design that within the first week of occupation the world above resembled very little of the Earth we had all been raised in.
We unchanged were shot on sight the vast majority of the time, but a few unlucky agents managed to be captured and even allowed to broadcast their suffering through the network of our heads. Were it not for our plight, the world above may have been seen as the greatest of marvels of the human imagination. The skybikes were the first devices made widespread after the weapons were in good supply. Larger, better, more important changes were being made as well though. The air was becoming cleaner. The sky had become bluer. The plants had become more lush. Whole neighborhoods were being recreated in days instead of years. Their architecture was softer to look at, but sturdier in construction. Not only could their weapons reduce matter to its base atoms and scatter them to the corners of the Earth, they could also create elements and shape them to their will.
By the end of the first month we had a plan. We had found ways to mimic their transformation process without giving up our selves to the change. Many of us had mastered their language. More importantly we could reverse the process. The bigger challenge was fought among ourselves. If we could become them, why not just do so and blend in? The consensus was reached that we would in fact reverse what had been done to our people. We would also have at our disposal the means to advance our planet in ways not yet dreamt of scant weeks before.
I was in my new form and advancing on one of our targeted 'seed' groups when the plan went to Hell though...
I was killed.
So was my partner.
Only we hadn't been killed. As we experienced our own painful reduction to base elements we also watched the attack from three houses down.
After smiling warmly at my partner (Reese Witherspoon), I (Kevin Costner) embraced her and we strode into our soft, but sturdy home...
~~~~~
At this point I woke up because it was a clear breach of continuity and it was also clear that the plot could not recover.
I gotta tell ya though, I'm winning Dream Academy Awards for Costumes, Make-up and Digital Effects for this one. The stunts (on my part) were kick-ass too!
As the beginning details begin to filter through I notice several of my peers begin to writhe in pain and begin fantastical transformations. Many more seem to die mid-change, frozen in grotesque parodies of life.
Over-whelmed by it all, despite all of my secret governmental training and reaction-suppression gear, I could only watch in shock until they burst into the ArtsGarden. They were two large, robotic war-drones. After a quick sweep of the room they began to vaporize the warped dead and the unchanged alike. My training finally kicked in and I was able to dodge a blast meant for me and hide myself away in the thick metal girders of the glass, hemispherical structure hanging above the intersection of Washington and Meridian streets. After their work had been completed they stepped in unison to the still convulsing form of my (former) employer and helped her up from the floor. Her new form was not completely unlike her old form, but there was nothing resembling her at the same time. Scales mixed with fur across her broad, green, misshapen shoulders. Her face was all mouth and a whip-like tongue hung from one side of it as she shrugged off the remaining fugue of her transformation.
Once clear-headed again she made several inquiries of the war-drones and within seconds it was apparent to anyone left observing that she was indeed in charge of the situation. Those peers of mine left, now fully changed into their new forms, began conversing slowly and then the barrage of voices grew to a full fledged assault of my still human senses. They no longer smelled human. They didn't sound human. They certainly didn't look human.
I noticed at almost the same instant the war-drone had, that I had removed my ceramic auto-pistol from its slender holster inside my left jacket breast and drawn aim upon the parasitic being that had transformed the host-body of my former boss. Realizing instantly that I had overstayed my welcome, I reacted solely on programmed instincts. As the beam I had hidden behind scattered into its component atoms I managed a reverse-somersault through the glass behind me and slid to rest at the edge of the ArtsGarden structure before quickly choosing the path of best coverage for my continued flight from disintegration.
It had all happened too quickly, but once concealed in one of my few well-stocked bolt-holes I was able to fill in some of the remaining blanks. Having reestablished my net-feed from a secure source we agents were able to compile all that we had seen and heard with telemetry data from satellites and telescopes on the ground. It took days in hiding and several dangerous gathering missions among the few of us remaining, but the picture was beginning to become much clearer. The pods, once broken open upon impact, began releasing the very essence of a long-dead race of beings from a far away system... possibly even extra galactic in origin. This 'essence' caused the people of Earth to be transformed into beings of feline, reptilian or mixed heritage; wholly unearthly in their new forms and immediately fluent in their long-dead tongue. The invaders technology was light-years ahead of our own and so simplistic in its design that within the first week of occupation the world above resembled very little of the Earth we had all been raised in.
We unchanged were shot on sight the vast majority of the time, but a few unlucky agents managed to be captured and even allowed to broadcast their suffering through the network of our heads. Were it not for our plight, the world above may have been seen as the greatest of marvels of the human imagination. The skybikes were the first devices made widespread after the weapons were in good supply. Larger, better, more important changes were being made as well though. The air was becoming cleaner. The sky had become bluer. The plants had become more lush. Whole neighborhoods were being recreated in days instead of years. Their architecture was softer to look at, but sturdier in construction. Not only could their weapons reduce matter to its base atoms and scatter them to the corners of the Earth, they could also create elements and shape them to their will.
By the end of the first month we had a plan. We had found ways to mimic their transformation process without giving up our selves to the change. Many of us had mastered their language. More importantly we could reverse the process. The bigger challenge was fought among ourselves. If we could become them, why not just do so and blend in? The consensus was reached that we would in fact reverse what had been done to our people. We would also have at our disposal the means to advance our planet in ways not yet dreamt of scant weeks before.
I was in my new form and advancing on one of our targeted 'seed' groups when the plan went to Hell though...
I was killed.
So was my partner.
Only we hadn't been killed. As we experienced our own painful reduction to base elements we also watched the attack from three houses down.
After smiling warmly at my partner (Reese Witherspoon), I (Kevin Costner) embraced her and we strode into our soft, but sturdy home...
~~~~~
At this point I woke up because it was a clear breach of continuity and it was also clear that the plot could not recover.
I gotta tell ya though, I'm winning Dream Academy Awards for Costumes, Make-up and Digital Effects for this one. The stunts (on my part) were kick-ass too!