#hamael

[a-stoopid-person]

So, due to sheer boredom, I am doing silly little rp ask things

Add: 🌞 for Radiance

This: 👑 for Hamael

That: 🍺 for Nanael

And: 📘 for Raziel

Add it to the end of your ask so I know who you're talking to!

[a-stoopid-person]

Hamael, caretaker of Virtues

One of the few Transfem angels ((Why be "her", when can has "him" like the Father? - the council probably))

Has over 100 Virtues under her command ((momma has many childs))

✨ head wings ✨

Can and will beat the shit outta anyone

Knows Nanael and feels bad for the bullshit he goes through

#2 Council Hater

Hates sending Virtues down to Hell only to get slaughtered ((council's idea))

Is scared of Raziel

[a-stoopid-person]

Funky tag masterpost, so none of us get lost on here.

Pick a tag, and see what i have attached to it!

[dreamsofamadman]

I am the knower of the way. i am the traveler that walks all paths. i am the ocean of minds that perceives all. i am the god of men. created by men. i am that which makes you. i am that which destroys you. i am the knower of the way."

makrora, mechine god of the artifical flesh. (something i made up for a possible far flung future story)

[dreamsofamadman]

street samurai:episode 10

its been a long time between posts. tomorrow i will do a mass upload of all previous chapters.

FAMILY

As Hamael stood in the middle of a shiny new warehouse, packed full of medical supplies, he racked his brain trying to find answers. He couldn’t figure out why the bodies had been found in sewers, he had checked the maps over and as far as he could see there was no reason for it. There were easier ways to move around the city undetected, the sewer was a poor choice. As he pulled up his map once more, he began to feed in new information, locations of bodies, as well as exit points that were near warehouses and other industrial buildings. One of the problems he found was that he couldn’t take it all in at once; even with his enhanced government funded brain there was just too much data to take in. He pushed the map into the back of his mind and called up a taxi capsule to take him back to his apartment, perhaps he could find the answer there.

***

The taxi slowed to a stop just outside Violet’s place. It was late morning; the sun was getting closer and closer to its zenith with each passing minute. With the heat and humidity one could really tell that monsoon season was approaching. Hamael climbed forth from the capsule and made his way through the bar and when he reached the door way, all eyes were on him. There were few early drinkers and a few staff members were keeping the place tidy, the drunks all had a suspicious look about them, this look faded quickly as Hamael made his way to the bar. His mouth opened releasing his words with an absence of tone. “Violet in?” the boy behind the bar nodded before pointing towards the back.

Hamael paused at Violet’s door, hacking into some of the buildings very limited sensors. Using these and his own heightened senses Hamael was able to detect 3 people inside, two female and one male. Judging by scent one of them was Violet and the other two had been her partners. Hamael left a message waiting for Violet in the net for when she awoke to come see him, before retiring to his room.

Waiting at Hamael’s door was a package; he washed his sensors over it, checking it was safe. The electromagnetic read-out told Hamael that it was vials of repair fluid, just as the box had said. He unlocked his door took his parcel in, placing it on the bench top as he informed the house computer that he would be needing a shower and some fresh clothes. Hamael stripped himself of his sword as well as all the trinkets that filled his pockets, before tossing his bundle of clothes into a plastic bag.

Hamael climbed into his shower letting the warm water wash away the filth of the city. After a few moments of standing under the water, Hamael triggered the soap infusion; he grabbed a cloth and started scrubbing the soapy water into his false skin. His skin was a complex fibre made primarily of silicone with various other materials suspended within it. These compounds increased its resistance to bullets, sharp edges as well as extreme temperatures, all the while making it look natural and giving Hamael the ability to alter his skin tone. Dirt didn’t tend to get very deeply imbedded in the skin, but it was still important to keep it clean. As the water ran down Hamael’s skin triggering his senses, facts about the case began to rise from the sea of data and shine like stars. If they were travelling in the sewer, then they were taking most of the equipment out of the containers. The tunnels must lead to some where secluded, and hidden away from the street, somewhere that a group of marauding mutants wouldn’t look out of place. Perhaps they were coming out in an underground area, but something that big would show up on plans, unless it was divulging into an underground parking structure, or something similar, but surely someone would have seen them all? The ideas twisted in Hamael’s head, some questions becoming clearer as others became fogy.

Then alarm went off in his virtual vision telling him that Violet was at the door. He was curious; he hadn’t been the shower that long surely, so why was she already here. Hamael check the time, he had been showering for over 40 minutes without realising. He quickly climbed from the shower towelling himself as he yelled to Violet. “Be out in a minute.” He pulled on a black pair of pants and a shirt before rushing to the door.

As he pulled the door open he was greeted by the sight of her, standing in baggy silver jeans, and a tight white tank top that clung to her breasts and showed off her midriff. Hamael made a slight bow before motioning for Violet to come inside. “So what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” Violet’s words had chipper tone as she plonked herself down on Hamael’s bed like a child. “Do you know what today is?” Hamael asked solemnly. Violet shook her head in confusion; Hamael eased himself onto the bed next to Violet. “12 years ago today, I met your father” Hamael’s arm went around Violet holding her close. He saved my life. She leaned against him and was surprised by how cold he was, even with all his motors Hamael’s body was very good at keeping him cool. “I was about 17 at the time, still living at the orphanage; I’d recently had my left arm replaced.” Hamael paused, looking at his left arm. He’d had so many different left arms since then; it was hard to remember what it had looked like. “In Just a couple of months till I’d be leaving the city behind and begin my training as a solider.” He paused again and for a moment Violet thought he was going to cry. “I was walking home from this part time job I had, and on the corner just down the road from here were a bunch of Christian brothers. I’d never even seen a Christian before that night. It was late, dark, the street lights were flickering, not many people on the street. That started yelling about the evils of the world, the sacredness of flesh, they claimed they could save me from their devil.” Hamael took a deep breath, his voice was becoming shaky. “Then one of them punched me in the gut, it took me off guard, but I quickly righted myself...there were four of them, and one of me. I kept trying to push them back, fight them off but I couldn’t” His eyes closed for a moment, he looked like he was trying to cry, his face tensed up his lip quivering, but there were no tears. “They had me on the ground and then one of them picked up this glass bottle and said something like, this will help you see his light, and then he smashed the bottle into my eyes. I blacked out after that, but when I came too your dad was with me in the hospital. He’d beaten them off, gotten me help. If it wasn’t for him I probably would have been killed.” Hamael stopped, pulling hugging Violet tightly. After a few moments he spoke again. “That’s how I got my first pair of these” Hamael pointed towards his eyes. Metallic blue irises surrounded by a sea of silver blue lightning. “It’s why I keep them, to remind me of my humanity.” Violet leaned towards Hamael, planting a soft gentle kiss on his cheek.

As they sat there in silence Violet began to wonder why he had told her this story. She puzzled it over and over, her brain gnawing away at the problem until she couldn’t take it anymore. She opened her mouth and the words just blurted out. “Is there something wrong? Is that why you told me that story? “Hamael looked at her, a smile across his face. “I told you that story because I felt it was one you should know.” He fell silent and the smile slowly slipped from his face. “There are some bad people in this city Violet; I want you to be extra careful.” Violet tried to speak, to tell Hamael that she was an adult, but he cut her off. “These people are worse then any gang; they have been experimenting on cyborgs. You need to be careful.” Hamael tenderly kissed her forehead. “Promise me you will keep yourself safe?” Violet swallowed the emotional lump that was in her throat. “Of course I’ll be safe” she showed Hamael a soft smile before heading for the door. “I better get to work.”

Hamael sat on the bed for a few minutes after she left, his mind blank, before exclaiming. “Right, lets see if we can solve these murders” with that he delved into his virtual vision and began sorting through case files, maps, and autopsy reports.

Copyright Raymond Cox, may not be copied wholly or in part without the written consent of the author

[dreamsofamadman]

street samurai: episode 9

latest chapter, feed back is welcome.

The sewer.

Hamael stood still, up to his knees in muck, as he altered his vision settings overlaying different electromagnetic spectra in an attempt to create something workable. By the time he was finished tinkering with his eyes the pitch black sewer was revealed to him in sepia tone with the odd explosion of some kind of metallic purple or blue. The tunnel he was standing in was only just tall enough for him to stand in, the walls were made of tiny clay bricks, and Hamael guessed they were brown, but he couldn’t really tell in his current state. He glanced behind himself, past the beam of light that was his entrance, as he tried to pick a direction. The body had been found in service chamber, a room where several tunnels converged before moving off towards another service chamber and eventually a treatment area. Hamael engaged his neural-net, augmenting it with his internal communications suite he was able to connect to local net-node on the street above, and from there dive into the net. His virtual vision was filled with lines of data, complex geometric shapes and photo-morphic colours as he searched for the information he wanted. After 5 minutes he had located the city’s sanitation department’s server and gained access to the sewer maps via a back door. His mind was now filled with maps from various points in the city’s history. Hamael overlayed the various maps, giving the most recent one priority, he then attempted to link his new map with one of the city, it wasn’t a perfect match, but at lest he knew where he was.  Hamael flipped his consciousness back to the real world before moving towards the service chamber.

After several kilometres of muck Hamael reached the service chamber a pentagonal room with 4 tunnels leading into it, with a fifth leading away to similar room some kilometres away. There were raised platforms around the edges of room at about waist height from the floor. There was also a large metal door marked “exit”.  Hamael walked around the room, this had been where the most recent body had been found, he had expected some kind of clue, but alas, nothing. He made his way to the large metal door, dripping sewerage onto the metal grated floor as he went. He gripped the door tugging on it, no movement. He grabbed it with both hands, still nothing. This time he booted up several sub systems of his body, servos and nano-muscle acting at full capacity, moving his strength closer to superhuman.  He pulled with all his might and the large metal door came away cleanly. Hamael was great by a wall of concrete filling the door way.

The map flooded into Hamael’s mind as he tried to find an explanation, searching through multiple layers and firing off questions into the vast data of the net before he finally found his answer. It had been filled in so they could extend a car part over the top of the entrance.  A flawed decision in Hamael’s mind, but nothing he could do about it now...at lest not without a grenade of some kind. He exhaled a fake electronic sigh before speaking to himself. “Just one of those days” the map filled his mind once more as he plotted a course through the sewer to his next crime scene. He began his trek, making notes of any faults with his map, adjusting sections where access could be gained to older sections of the sewers.  As he walked through the labyrinth of Sihaya’s sewer service tunnels, Hamael was reminded that when he was a child he had always feared what could be lurking down there in the catacombs’ of the city. Monsters and nightmarish creatures that lusted for human flesh and now he was searching for monsters in the sewer. But if truth was worth anything, they were not monsters, they were tortured people, taken from the streets so that some madman could experiment on them, and if Hamael couldn’t save them, he would have to avenge them. After an hour of stumbling around the sewer Hamael had grown rather agitated. He climbed forth from the sewer into an area surrounded by warehouses. Inside one of them a large container had fallen on top of a mutilated human corpse, pinning it, but causing only minor damage to the creature. This had been where another one of the bodies had been found.  As Hamael strolled towards the building leaving a trail of filth behind him, he was quickly intercepted by security guards. The two guards were unimpressive; they were short weedy men who looked like they had never been in a fight in their short miserable lives, their only power coming from the pistols at their sides. Hamael paused, taking in their firearms before placing his left hand on his sword. “Hello gentlemen, my name is Hamael, I work for the shogunate.” He looked each of them in the eye as they casually reached for their guns. “And I remind you that firing on a samurai is crime punishable by a minimum 10 years gaol time” the men jumped back before laughing awkwardly and spilling forth their apologies like verbal vomit. Hamael let lose what sounded like a large belly laugh before straightening himself up. “sorry guys, just here to see where you guys found that body a couple of weeks back” the guards sighed relief before glancing at his mess. “Could you hose a fella down?”  Hamael asked comically.  “Sure thing, right this way...ah...sir.” once the two guards had washed most of the filth from Hamael’s clothes they took him into the warehouse where the body had been found.  “Was it one of you that found the body?” Hamael inquired, and the younger of the two replied. “I found it the morning after the break in...Sir” Hamael could tell they were both nervous, and did his best to calm them down, by changing his tone. “Look guys, your not in any kind of trouble, I just want to find out where this thing came from ok?” the two men nodded as they pulled fake smiles. “Now what did they take?” Hamael already had the inventory of stolen items hovering in his virtual vision. The older one spoke in a deep voice using fragmented English, bits of Spanish and Filipino filling the gaps.  Gist of what he said matched Hamael’s list so he didn’t press the issue any harder. He could see the two of them were growing tired of answering his questions and made quick to end their interaction. “So you guys have been a bunch of help, sorry for dripping all over the place.” Hamael’s tone was light hearted, and he stood there smiling at the two men for a few moments before they realised he was done with them. The two left Hamael standing in a warehouse, soaking wet, and with no idea what he was going to do next.

Copyright Raymond Cox, may not be copied wholly or in part without the written consent of the author

[dreamsofamadman]

street samurai:episode 8

the latest chapter of street samurai. not sure how i feel about it.

A train.

After Hamael finished watching the morning commotion of the harbour, he began his trek across town. He made his way towards the monorail station, climbing its steps to the main platform. Here he was greeted with a row of turnstiles’, Hamael swiped his hand over the sensor on the turnstiles, registering his ident-chip and removing the appropriate fare. His intention was to take witness of the crime scenes, to check out the warehouses and sewers where the bodies had been found and luckily they were only a few kilometres from various stations around the city.  

The monorail was a sleek silver serpent, 8 cars long, with each care able to hold 15 or so passengers.  The monorail used magnetic levitation to propel it along the track. It was the main stay of the city’s public transport system; With 16 different rail lines all linking to a central hub in the city centre, and 6 of the lines connecting to hospitals around the city.  Using this network a person could get to within walking distance of any where in the city. The maglev train hovered just above the rail as it decelerated into the station before discharging a group of commuters onto the platform.   The surge of people reminded Hamael of crowd of recruits fresh from basic meandering out of a dropship.  The crowd cleared and Hamael found him self a seat on carriage, unclipping his sword from his belt and resting it upright on the seat, with the handle against his shoulder.  As the train pulled away from the platform with a gentle hum, Hamael’s mind began to wander, his eyes taking in the people watching him, sizing him up, it was a reminder of what he was. He still remembered the first time he felt the eyes of others watching him, sizing him up, gauging his threat level.

***

It was his first day of pathfinder training, he just been transfer from his base in Philippines after completing 4 months of basic. Now he was in the core, about to begin his training with the elite pathfinders. A type of Special Forces solider highly trained in infiltration, assassination, recon, and various other tactics. They were also equipped with the pathfinder armour, A complex suit of power armour with integrated weapons and defensive systems.

Hamael recalled that day clearly. He was only 18, a tall handsome youth, with black hair cut short and a European face. His eyes were little balls of blue lightning and chrome, as they were now. Apart from his eyes, bionic left arm, and some wiring in his brain, his body was still organic. When got to his post he was welcomed by 9 other soldiers, none of them that remarkable, 6 males, and 3 females. Most of them being of Asian or Caucasian heritage, they represented the demographics of the empire.  They were all young, just like Hamael fresh out of private schools or orphanages, all candidates for samurai. After a few minutes of standing around their new drill instructor arrived, he was a tall man of mixed ethnicity somewhere between Caucasian and Melanesian; he stood there in his black and red uniform pacing along the line of soldiers.  “I have a welcoming tradition, something I like to do to pick squad leader, and to reinforce the pack mentality and unit cohesion that I expect from my pathfinders.”  The instructors words flowed from him like ice water, putting each solider on edge, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes. “You will fight, each other, no weapons, no restrictions, no killing.” He paused looking at his worried little pack. He took a few steps away from them, before grinning back at them.  The group began to drift away from each other, forming a rough circle, each member eyeing the other, trying to plot some kind of strategy. Hamael looked across at the female in front of him, but a few metres away, she had a shaved head white skin, her features hinted at her parents being Asian. There was something about her that made Hamael afraid, she was rather muscled for a girl, but it didn’t look out of place on her.

The girl next to Hamael took a step closer before the instructor opened his mouth, snarling. “Begin!” and with that Hamael swung his left arm around, spinning his right as he collided his bionic fist into the young woman’s chest. There was a snap of bone, and she fell to the ground as Hamael worried for a moment that he had punched too hard. Then a large fist collided into his kidneys. He twisted round as he pushed himself through the pain. The man swung his fist again, this time hitting Hamael in the gut, he grabbed the man’s wrist in his right hand, twisting the arm slightly before driving his left palm down on the mans elbow breaking his limb.  Hamael moved on, delivering a quick secession of kicks to the next gentleman’s abdomen from behind as he put another man to the floor. He turned quickly trying to move out of the way of Hamael’s kicks before the side of his head caught the blow of the musclier girl’s fist. He fell to the ground and Hamael was left looking face to face with the girl that had just brought down almost half the squad.

They circled each other as they moved onto open ground.  Hamael watched her through his lightning eyes, as they both ripped off their bloodied black shirts. The woman spoke with a soft yet powerful voice. “Setsuka”   Hamael was trying to manage his pain and it took him a few moments to realise what she was doing. She had stopped moving and stood up straight looking at Hamael. He adopted a similar stance, with his arms tight at his side before speaking. “Hamael” they bowed before charging at each other, exchanging blows at lightning speeds with near pinpoint accuracy. He could still recall how much her blows hurt, even now almost 15 years later he could still feel the pain in bones that were not there.  He would strike at her head and she would block with one hand, while striking at his chest with the other. He couldn’t keep up, they may have been matched in strength, but she was faster, and more skilled, he just couldn’t land enough good blows. Then he saw an opening, as she ready for her next strike. Hamael quickly tried to punch her head with his metal fist. As his arm streaked through the air he saw her move, before he could connect her fist had collided with his rib cage, just above his where his heart was, her hand twisted slightly as his ribs caved inwards, shredding his lungs. Hamael feel to the floor and blacked out as his weak organic body was over come with intense white hot pain. He was lucky to survive that beating.

***

Hamael felt the train slow to a halt once more; he had been on the train for the good part of an hour and was now at his destination. He began the walk through one of the city’s many industrial estates.  It was here that one of the bodies was found.  He conversed with the security guards, asking them what they remembered, if anything, very little was revealed, except that the mutilated corpse was dragging itself towards a sewer entrance when it kicked the bucket. Hamael found his way to the large metal disc covering the hole that lead to the sewer. It looked old, like something from before the crash, a relic that had been sitting here since before the empire. Hamael found a button on the centre of the disc, pushing it down released a hiss of air as the disc sunk into the ground before sliding out of the way.  He peered down into the darkness, the tunnel illuminated slightly by the sun light. Hamael switched his vision to infra –red before descending into the gloom and stink.

“Its gonna be one of them days.”

[dreamsofamadman]

street samurai:episode 7

not sure how i feel about this one, there are parts i like and parts that seem pointless.

One night The pearl white taxi capsule pulled up besides Hamael and the boy in his arms about 10 minutes after he had signalled for it. The capsule was the standard transport in most cities within the pacific empire, as well as being common in the richer cities of the Scottish kingdom. It was a smooth six meter long box about 2 meters wide and a meter and a half tall with each end sloping to a point only a foot above the road. It had large windows at both the front and back (although there was no true front, as it could travel in either direction). There was also a large window on the gull-wing doors of the vehicle.  The capsule sent a query into Hamael’s net to verify his account details before the door hissed open. The interior lighting of the capsule was a warm yellow colour, with brown synthetic leather seats. The seats were at either end of the capsule with a small console in the middle. Once Hamael and the boy were secure, the capsule departed automatically for the nearest hospital at maximum safe speed.  And then it began to rain.

*** The sleek silver private capsule rolled along the slick black concrete that formed the streets of Sihaya. Mr Aero gazed out his window as the city slipped past him, the mirrored glass of the buildings reflecting the blur of light that was his vehicle.  The structures of the city towered above him, looking as though they would puncture the sky. All of a sudden he felt a wave of inspiration wash over him, he quickly grab a pencil and paper out of a compartment in the capsule and began jotting down the ideas that had come to him. Equations, words, images, lines of programming code, it all flowed forth from him like a fountain.  His family had been one of engineers and scientists, even a few artists rested in the branches of his family tree.  “This is a new age” as his father would have put it. No doubt his dear old dad had said something so stupid to convince his wife to allow him to alter the DNA of their unborn child. So that he could create “the perfect son.”  Mr Aero had never liked his father, he had always wanted so much from him, and was always so disappointed. He would never be disappointed again, as dead men tend to have low expectations. With a flash of electricity his neural-web alerted him to a priority data-net signal, a call from Karl “What is it Karl, I am busy” Mr Aero’s E-voice displayed anger rather elegantly. “Odysseus is completely combat ready sir; shall I send him out with the other test subjects?” Karl replied. “Yes, let his baptism by fire begin.” The call ended and Mr Aero found he had lost his inspiration. *** The transport capsule rounded the corner in a smooth motion as it decelerated into the hospitals main drive way. It was a tall rather plain building, a simple multi levelled structure the colour of fresh snow. It was the colour on many of the new buildings added to the city over the last fifty years as part of revitalisation program to bring Sihaya in line with the cities of the core. Both public roads and monorail networks connected the hospital to the district and the greater city. As the capsule pulled up to the emergency room doors, Hamael fired off an alert code in the hospitals net. As he began to get out of the capsule a doctor who was rushing towards Hamael began transmitting questions over a secure net about the condition of the patient. Hamael told him all he knew, the boys heart rate had been elevated but steady, he was covered in minor lacerations, and was most likely exposed to psycho-active drugs. By the time all this had been explained he was already inside the emergency room while several nurses and a doctor rushed towards him. Hamael stood calmly as they took the boy from his arms and hurried of to treat him. Hamael silently waited as they took care of the boy he didn’t know, who had been saved by luck. Hamael liked to wander when he was confused, or upset, or just plan bored. And by chance his confused roaming had brought him to old Manila, to the top of a decrepit building where he watched a small boy run into a trap. After an hour or so the doctor came out and told Hamael that the boy had been identified and his parents had been notified of what had happened. Hamael nodded, then handed the doctor a small black disc. “This contains my incident report. As well as a one time net address that I can be contacted on. Give it to the police when they arrive.” Hamael shook the doctor’s hand before turning towards the door. “Goodnight sir, thank you for your assistance” and with that Hamael was out the door and heading towards the taxi capsule he had summoned .

*** Adan was the youngest of 3 brothers, and the least successful. Currently he was working as a security guard in an industrial complex, a job for which he felt he was grossly under prepared.  His employer had given him a stun-baton and sick pistol (so called because of the microwave pulses it released made anyone it was pointed at, sick).  After a 6 hour seminar of techniques and the proper use of force he was put to work. He had been working 2 weeks and had quickly come to the conclusion that he would never need to use his weapons, and as such had neglected charging them. This was a mistake on Adan’s part. The rain was pouring down as he walked along the rows of buildings on his rounds, and there, in the shadows of the buildings he saw it, a shambling mass of flesh and metal. Adan spun around and shone his torch down the path at the horde, as he simultaneously reached for is pistol. It was not dissimilar to a normal gun, apart from the fact that it had no moving parts (besides the trigger) and on the end of the short fat black barrel was a small dish to emit the microwave pulse. The crowed of bodies shuffled towards him as he pointed his light and gun at them. It was difficult to make out but they looked like tormented zombies from Dr Frankenstein’s lab. Bionic arms, legs, lungs and hearts, you name it, Adan could see it. And they were moving towards him. He fired his gun and the only sound was a slight sizzle as a few rain drops evaporated. The freaks kept coming for him, he fired again. No result. It wasn’t making them sick, it wasn’t even making them pause, and they just kept slowly moving towards him. Flesh, metal, plastic, and the odd bit of cloth. That’s when it appeared, a tall slender being, with pale grey flesh, silver metal hair, made into what looked like quills or spines. It was a true sight to behold, the lower part of its face had been replaced with some kind of surgical or gas mask, and its arms where oddly armoured for someone so thin. The skin around the shoulders of its bionic arms looked like they had begun to fuse with the metal...which Adan knew had to be some kind of trick, metal did not bond with flesh. The creature looked Adan up and down before it jerked its arms and the metal plate of its fore arms descended, even Adan knew a blade when he saw one. The thing spoke in a tinny distorted voice. “My name is Odysseus” it took a deep breath. “draw your weapon and prepare to die” Adan froze as he felt the icy grip of death upon him He didn’t want to die, not here in an ally at the hands of some surgical mutant. He wanted to live. He drew the long slender black stun-baton with its coils of dull grey wire, and herd it crackle as the rain hit its shaft. Odysseus took a step forward, And Adan collapsed onto his knees and the cold wet concrete. He began to wail and cry, screaming out for help, for his family, for God, for the emperor and finally, just calling out for the sake of calling out, to fill his final moments with more then just empty silence. Odysseus let out an exhale before gazing at the pitiful creature in front of him. “you are almost not worth killing” it took a step forward and sliced Adan’s head off, and before it even hit the ground it was already moving its blades again, cutting the mans torso into chunks of gore. “Almost.” *** Hamael was only 5 minutes away from the hospital when he grew tired of looking at the city. The city he had grown up in. The city he had spent his first 18 years of life working to get away from, the city that had changed so much more than its name, and yet was still full of the same old filth. He closed his eyes and delved into his neural web, pulling up a recorded experience, His first flight over the capital city of the empire. Centric was a beautiful city, made up of pure white buildings, fields of grass and small canals, and monorails, all divided my white reinforced combi-marble walls, a building material conceived specially for Centric’s walls. It looked like marble, was far cheaper and more plentiful. Brewed from ordinary granite and a mix of other chemicals it was as strong as steel. The walls were there for both aesthetic and practical reasons. In the event of conflict the city could be more easily defended. The walls also kept different areas of the city separate. At the centre of the city was a lake. The water in this lake was used by the whole city for its needs, drinking, sanitation, and agriculture and it feed the other parts of the city through 16 canals. In the middle of this lake was an island, connected to the shore by four draw bridges. On this island was the imperial palace an ultra modern building, fusing influences from Japanese castles, Indian temples, European churches and even Moorish structures. It was an explosion of colour in a sea of white buildings. And there you have the centre of an empire, the city’s inner circle. The next circle of the city was the ring of buildings and gardens that made up the homes of the people. The shore of the lake was covered in mostly private land and mansions, but at the edges of some of the parks were public beaches. Around the edge of the living quarters of the city, its core was a wall, 50 meters tall, 35 meters thick at its base and 5 meters thick at its top. At quarters around this wall were tunnels through the wall that lined up on the bridge roads to the palace. On the out side of this wall was thick strip of green, forests, farms and public gardens supplying the city with something that it needed, food, timber, beauty. In this area the canals branched off into hundreds of tiny streams providing irrigation to the farm lands and forests. Then came another wall. And on the outside of it were the industrial complexes, where the people of the city worked to create the products that the city needed, the products that the empire needed.  It was here that most companies had their corporate headquarters, and so did several government divisions. This included the offices of the Shogun, that is, the leader of the samurai class. Surrounding the industrial complex, and indeed the whole city was a large wall 110 meters high, 50 meters wide at its base and 6 at its top and 100kilometers long. Placed along this wall at intervals of kilometres were watch towers, Armed with an extensive ordinance that included AA gauss guns, and tank buster munitions. It was a beautiful city, a sea of greens, and whites, and at the centre, that burst of colour that was the emperor’s palace. This memory recording gave Hamael hope. Hope for a better world, a safer world, a world where he would not be welcome.

*** Violet laid there in her bed, thinking about where her evening had brought her, thinking about the two people sleeping against her. Not a new experience for her, but not a common one either. She had met them in her bar, not an uncommon site, on weekends it was popular amongst a fringe group of young people. Those kids that had grown sick of the big flashy nightclubs and wanted something different, those youngsters who were too scared to go to a ‘real’ transhumanist nightclub, like the red raider. Violet didn’t mind it, most of them were only a few years younger than herself, and they made good prey.  The couple had come in late, most likely from another bar, they were with a group of friends by the look of it but, they stood out. She was of average height, with tight black jeans clinging to her slim legs, they were made of some meta-fabric that shimmered and sparkled with pink lightning as she moved. She also had on a small red leather jacket over a tight white strapless top that hugged her rather large tits. The top had a similar shimmer to her pants, except the lightning was blue. Her hair was dull red with silver streaks framing her face. Her skin was tanned and she had a vaguely oriental face. And standing next to her was a tall, broad shouldered, olive skinned European man. His hair was black cut short, and hung down over one side of his face concealing his left eye, his right eye had several scars around it, was a deep red colour, and it was obviously artificial. He was wearing a red mesh T-shirt through which it was quite easy to see his trim and sculpted figure. Over this he wore a long white leather coat. He wore a pair of loose black pants made of a fabric that looked like it was constantly burning around his ankles.   Violet found herself stealing glances at them all night, as they got drunker and chatted with their friends about one pointless thing or another. Every now and then one of the two would come to the bar and Violet would drop in the odd smile or kind word, tiny little things that their inebriated minds would take the ‘wrong’ way.  As the crowd thinned out and the night edged ever closer to dawn Violet began talking to couple more and more, quick exchanges of short sentences, gave way to full conversations and soon the three of them were sitting and talking together as the couples friends pealed away and headed home. By now the bar was close to empty with only a few hardcore drinkers sticking around. Violet had learnt the couple’s names, the girl was known as Kasumi and the boy was named Amador. The two of them had become very flirtatious and Violet had taken this as a sign, she moved her way closer to the two of them and began to brush her hands over theirs, feeling the couple’s thighs, playing with Kasumi’s hair while she stroked Amador’s  forearm. Within no time at all they were both falling all over her, kissing her felling her body, stroking the cold metal and plastic of her bionic arm as she pulled them closer. She fired a message through the net to the remaining bartenders that she was finishing early. She could her one of there groans as Violet pulled her prey across the room to the back stairs.   Soon thereof them were inside Violet’s apartment ripping of each others clothes like hungry beasts. Violet clumsily lead Kasumi and Amador to her bedroom, where they all collapsed into the sea of sheets and pillows, the two of them worshipping Violet with their lips, tongues, hands and teeth.  They explored Violet as she guided them, gently pushing Amador’s hands lower, while pulling Kasumi’s lips closer to her own.  All three of them moved about each other, riding on waves of pleasure, always with Violet leading the way. Their dance continued for what felt like hours, bitting, kissing, scratching, thrusting, and an endless race to some unknown finish line. And finally they collapsed on top of each other, exhausted from Violets instruction. As Amador and Kasumi fell asleep cuddled against Violet’s side, she found her self thinking about Hamael, and as the thoughts of her distant guardian filled her mind with contentment she passed off to sleep.

***   Hamael had ordered the transport capsule to carry him to the harbour. Here he had wondered the streets and open air malls and arcades taking in the night air, the smell of the sea air, even as a fully realised trans-human Hamael could still take joy from simple experience. His night had almost been spoiled several times by punks and hooligans, but simply drawing his sword and proclaiming he was a samurai was enough to scare them off. The gangs that took the foreshore as their territory tended to be foolhardy rich kids out to rebel against mummy and daddy; as such they were rather cowardly. So Hamael continued his stroll letting the facts of the case mill about in his mind. Some with a rather special mind had come up with this techno-organic virus, and as yet their motives were unclear, it would seem they were just trying to perfect it. The real question, was it a weapon, or something more sinister? The dawn broke over the silhouette of the city, the light shining through the buildings before finally hitting the water on the manila bay. Perhaps not the most beautiful sunrise in the empire, but one that still brought a warm glow to Hamael, more then just the warmth of the sun, something intrinsic to his being that told him, even with his lack of flesh, he was still human.

Copyright Raymond Cox, may not be copied wholly or in part without the written consent of the author