The Invasion of San Marcos, Texas
SAN MARCOS, TEXAS! LORD GENOCYDE COMETH! 
San Marcos, Texas. The Allniter Diner.
When the coordinates had been set, the rest of the Impyrial forces began to gather and take their posts. Readying the ship known as The Virus 1.5, Lord Genocyde steeled himself. An entirely new place on this planet would be marked for all of recorded history.
Lord Genocyde pressed the button and the ship set off on it's slow voyage and began the journey from the bridge to what served as, for lack of a better term, his quarters. Many of the Impyrial fleet began taking their positions, taking controls off of autopilot and checking systems to ensure that all ran smoothly.
"Lord Genocyde," the ship's admiral called as he nearly had to run to keep up with The Dark Lord's quick stride, "all crew are in place. Should we speed the ship toward it's destination and take the populace by surprise."
"Absolutely not," The Dark Lord said, his voice a calm timbre that bordered the unnerving.
"I don't understand," the admiral said.
"The idea, Admiral," Lord Genocyde said, exasperated by the admiral's petty desire to overcome and overwhelm, "is to use the small sect of the population and infect their minds. They will then go out and infect others. It is why we continue our transmissions and, as soon as this vessel is fully capable, we will unleash a transmission that will take more than just that one small sect but many over this planet. We will create civil unrest and we will use them to overthrow the infrastructure in place. This wretched mass will become ours without a shot fired from this vessel. I hope you understand that, for your sake."
"My Lord," the admiral continued, "These people are resilient. They will die before they let you take their minds."
"Leave that to me, Admiral," Lord Genocyde said, stopping in his tracks, holding up one finger, his reptilian eyes shredding full-stop into the very being of the admiral.
"As you wish, Lord Genocyde," the admiral said, nodding and going about his business.
Lord Genocyde surveyed the vast expanse of the swamp that the Virus 1.5 had long since inhabited. Much of it's coastline had been destroyed a year earlier and much of that damage was still in a state of disrepair. None of the damage had been caused by the onslaught that left the swampland his. The second of the Two Great Winds had threatened to even overtake the Virus and leave Lord Genocyde to start over. He looked over the great massive landscape that he now, for better or worse, called home with a great sadness and then turned to continue to his quarters.
Along the way, many stood from their posts to show attention or bow in respect...or fear. Lord Genocyde paid them no mind, his mind was consumed with thoughts of The Second Great Wind and what had plagued him most...loss.
"It is fear of loss," an old voice said, "that can lead you to evil."
The old voice was his master, a man who had died so long ago
"You learn to overcome fear," he said, "or it will consume you. It will drive your anger, your hatred and lead others into ultimate suffering."
"I just don't want anyone I love or care about to suffer," he had said in those days of his childhood.
"I'm afraid you can't stop that," the wizened old sage told him, "People will experience pain and everyone dies. Your duty is not to stop them from dying or experiencing...that's what makes us grow. Your duty is to see to it that others, like yourself, never live their life in fear."
Lord Genocyde pushed the button on the keypad next to one door and it opened with a "hisssss." He entered and shed his cloak, hanging it from a hook protruding from the wall. A small noise issued from somewhere in the darkened chamber and Lord Genocyde approached it.
There, in a darkened corner of the large chamber, a small box sat and the small noise issue from it again. As he opened it, he kneeled and reached inside, pulling out the small grey and white mammal that cried from within. It opened it's little blue eyes and opened it's mouth, once again crying out in a, "Meeeeew!"
Lord Genocyde's claw-like finger moved over it's furry head for a few strokes and then, from the base of his feet he heard, "Mrraaooow!"
He looked down and saw the larger of the two mammals, nearly it's doppelganger except in size and placed it back into the box. They were called kids...or kittens...something of that nature, he knew it, but it would not come to him. The larger animal, it's mother, disappeared into the box and began the routine task of bathing and cleaning them.
Lord Genocyde began to unfasten his armor and place it on the mannequin that would disappear into the wall. As the light shone from behind the dummy, the breastplate and backplate were shed to reveal horrible scars that marred his flesh and with each of the pieces that were removed, more scars were uncovered.
His reptilian eyes stared at the reflection in the plastic of the tube that surrounded the mannequin once it closed. Though they were old scars, they never seemed to fade. A fierce battle, nearly a personal war had been waged and his master's life had been hanging in the balance. Though he fought and fought and eventually let his hatred drive him, giving in completely, and letting the darkness flow through him, his master had still lost his life ...and it was his own best friend who had killed him. Genocyde had killed him but not before nearly losing his own life, vowing that the last words his former best friend had heard would be "I despise you!" before she fell at his hands.
Finally, standing ready for stasis for the journey, the armored dummy's tube closed and retracted into the wall. A coffin-like device lay open and Lord Genocyde climbed in, submerging himself in the liquid contained within. The lid hissed as the door had when it had opened and continued hissing as the pod closed itself. Suddenly, the liquid began to cool and Lord Genocyde's mind began to drift to the low-level pulses, to the bodies writhing beneath them...to the heralding of a new dawn for The Empyre.
To Be Continued In San Marcos, TX on October 28th from 6:00pm - 1:00am
When the coordinates had been set, the rest of the Impyrial forces began to gather and take their posts. Readying the ship known as The Virus 1.5, Lord Genocyde steeled himself. An entirely new place on this planet would be marked for all of recorded history.
Lord Genocyde pressed the button and the ship set off on it's slow voyage and began the journey from the bridge to what served as, for lack of a better term, his quarters. Many of the Impyrial fleet began taking their positions, taking controls off of autopilot and checking systems to ensure that all ran smoothly.
"Lord Genocyde," the ship's admiral called as he nearly had to run to keep up with The Dark Lord's quick stride, "all crew are in place. Should we speed the ship toward it's destination and take the populace by surprise."
"Absolutely not," The Dark Lord said, his voice a calm timbre that bordered the unnerving.
"I don't understand," the admiral said.
"The idea, Admiral," Lord Genocyde said, exasperated by the admiral's petty desire to overcome and overwhelm, "is to use the small sect of the population and infect their minds. They will then go out and infect others. It is why we continue our transmissions and, as soon as this vessel is fully capable, we will unleash a transmission that will take more than just that one small sect but many over this planet. We will create civil unrest and we will use them to overthrow the infrastructure in place. This wretched mass will become ours without a shot fired from this vessel. I hope you understand that, for your sake."
"My Lord," the admiral continued, "These people are resilient. They will die before they let you take their minds."
"Leave that to me, Admiral," Lord Genocyde said, stopping in his tracks, holding up one finger, his reptilian eyes shredding full-stop into the very being of the admiral.
"As you wish, Lord Genocyde," the admiral said, nodding and going about his business.
Lord Genocyde surveyed the vast expanse of the swamp that the Virus 1.5 had long since inhabited. Much of it's coastline had been destroyed a year earlier and much of that damage was still in a state of disrepair. None of the damage had been caused by the onslaught that left the swampland his. The second of the Two Great Winds had threatened to even overtake the Virus and leave Lord Genocyde to start over. He looked over the great massive landscape that he now, for better or worse, called home with a great sadness and then turned to continue to his quarters.
Along the way, many stood from their posts to show attention or bow in respect...or fear. Lord Genocyde paid them no mind, his mind was consumed with thoughts of The Second Great Wind and what had plagued him most...loss.
"It is fear of loss," an old voice said, "that can lead you to evil."
The old voice was his master, a man who had died so long ago
"You learn to overcome fear," he said, "or it will consume you. It will drive your anger, your hatred and lead others into ultimate suffering."
"I just don't want anyone I love or care about to suffer," he had said in those days of his childhood.
"I'm afraid you can't stop that," the wizened old sage told him, "People will experience pain and everyone dies. Your duty is not to stop them from dying or experiencing...that's what makes us grow. Your duty is to see to it that others, like yourself, never live their life in fear."
Lord Genocyde pushed the button on the keypad next to one door and it opened with a "hisssss." He entered and shed his cloak, hanging it from a hook protruding from the wall. A small noise issued from somewhere in the darkened chamber and Lord Genocyde approached it.
There, in a darkened corner of the large chamber, a small box sat and the small noise issue from it again. As he opened it, he kneeled and reached inside, pulling out the small grey and white mammal that cried from within. It opened it's little blue eyes and opened it's mouth, once again crying out in a, "Meeeeew!"
Lord Genocyde's claw-like finger moved over it's furry head for a few strokes and then, from the base of his feet he heard, "Mrraaooow!"
He looked down and saw the larger of the two mammals, nearly it's doppelganger except in size and placed it back into the box. They were called kids...or kittens...something of that nature, he knew it, but it would not come to him. The larger animal, it's mother, disappeared into the box and began the routine task of bathing and cleaning them.
Lord Genocyde began to unfasten his armor and place it on the mannequin that would disappear into the wall. As the light shone from behind the dummy, the breastplate and backplate were shed to reveal horrible scars that marred his flesh and with each of the pieces that were removed, more scars were uncovered.
His reptilian eyes stared at the reflection in the plastic of the tube that surrounded the mannequin once it closed. Though they were old scars, they never seemed to fade. A fierce battle, nearly a personal war had been waged and his master's life had been hanging in the balance. Though he fought and fought and eventually let his hatred drive him, giving in completely, and letting the darkness flow through him, his master had still lost his life ...and it was his own best friend who had killed him. Genocyde had killed him but not before nearly losing his own life, vowing that the last words his former best friend had heard would be "I despise you!" before she fell at his hands.
Finally, standing ready for stasis for the journey, the armored dummy's tube closed and retracted into the wall. A coffin-like device lay open and Lord Genocyde climbed in, submerging himself in the liquid contained within. The lid hissed as the door had when it had opened and continued hissing as the pod closed itself. Suddenly, the liquid began to cool and Lord Genocyde's mind began to drift to the low-level pulses, to the bodies writhing beneath them...to the heralding of a new dawn for The Empyre.
To Be Continued In San Marcos, TX on October 28th from 6:00pm - 1:00am
posted by Lord Genocyde at 11:40 PM
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