From the sky, the only landmark is the Kyvruus towers, head of the Citizen City economy. One of the five towers begins to crack, and sink into the ground.

"Damnit! Ives, on the radio, we need that air support!" The captain was, for the first time in his life, afraid. They were cut off from the rest of Able company, they have been for three hours, three hours of being in the dark with shells dropping all around you.
"I'll try sir, but it looks like they're using the CommLock's on us."
"♥♥♥♥..." Captain Harrison knew the drill. The Kerrlikshi were experts at warfare. They were born into countless wars ranging from land skirmishes to territory wars. Every engagement that Harrison fought against the Kerr were in the same pattern. Knock out communication, use orbital bombardment, and send in the shock troops.
"Sir, we need a plan"
"Shut it Grant." The captain took a deep breath, and beckoned his men over.
"Now, I do, in fact, have an idea." The men were now generally interested, as they ducked into a nearby building for some cover, avoiding a particularly nasty bomb that fell across the street. "Ok, you....well, most of you...have been under my command for years now. We all know how the Kerr act, and we need to organize. High Command told me that once communication was knocked out, we are to meet at a designated area with the rest of Able company. Understood?"
"Yes sir!" The men got ready to leave, packing up the supplies they laid out earlier as a make shift command center. In all, there were 23 men in that room, 5 of them were 10 year veterans, and un-heard of service time. the rest were either 3 or 4 years, or Greenhorns who knew battle from the simulations. Harrison himself had been fighting for 20 years, and had earned dozens of awards and medals for his service to the United System Forces.
Outside, it sounded like the shells had stopped. But it looked like they were. Really, they looked more like crimson birds than anything. They were the Drop pods, painted Bright Red, the Kerr colors. They were huge too, could hold 90 troopers and 5 tanks. As they crashed into buildings and towers, the troops inside climbed out into higher ground, and if the pods went deep enough, creep through the sewer system, ready to burst out and surprise an un-aware squad.
"Alright, Kristoff, Marker, scout ahead and find us a route to that tower, and meet us across the block.
"Yes Sir!"
"Got it."
"Everyone else, get ready to move out."

History of Sigil

A breathtaking vista opened before my eyes, beautiful still if pictured in dull, off-white shades. Rotted wooden pillars littered the ground in rows. Dusty clouds hung, suspended in time; a perfect medley of buoyancy and heat preventing them from loosing form. Every so often, a faint blip of the same not quite white broke the inky darkness, quick to be lost in the sea.

I fingered my display, tapping on the meter to get a projected view. "Good," I mumble, "at least I won't asphyxiate. Though the boredom could still get me."

The ballasts on my back responded to the faintest sigil, and with a plume of bubbles I sank to the ground. An ocean walk was not unlike tethering a bird to a post; an entire dimension of movement was stripped away. I sigh. Dives had to be sponsored, and sponsors wanted more than the satisfaction of sending a researcher down for a little fun. They wanted something in return ... today that happened to be a sonic mapping of this stretch of land.

"Base, this is scout 1208. Request permission to transmit." A click of static confirmed the message.

A voice crackled through, "Scout 1208, you are cleared for transmission. You may begin."

I cleared my mind as I had countless times before, grabbing a glove and slipping it over my right hand. A neon blue streamer tailed its every movement, painting a large circle that hovered without losing form or reacting to motion.


Every sigil begins with a glove. It produces a dye that seems to defy gravity while giving a soft glow. Any one of the thousands of permutations in design can trigger any number of devices to activate remotely with either the tiniest spark or a bolt tens of times stronger than lightning.

The rather large sigil I was concocting would power a deep-sea sounder that had recently been discovered. It would send a sonic pulse that could then be recorded and studied to map every square centimetre of sea floor for kilometres around.

It was almost complete. The sigil, standing a good two meters tall, was a mass of criss-crossing lines surrounding a triangle centered in the middle of a circle containing the image. As my finger neared the edge, the lines grew brighter and well defined. With the final stroke painted, it dissolves without a trace.

The average generation of this magnitude should take over three minutes, not unusual for something so power hungry. Only seconds later, the ground begins to shiver and slowly becomes more violent. Pillars of sand were sent stories high in the water, billowing masses of grey and brown. As the motion became unbearable and moved me to the edge of nausea, it stopped.

A wave of bass echoed through the water, resounding in my bones and filling my ears. The entire event took little over fifteen seconds.

Again static, and a voice, "Transmission received. Please return to surface for debrief.".

Startling, it's already on Google Docs and Blogger . Thanks for the suggestions.

One question; though. If you think it's such a terrible thread, why did you post here ? Shouldn't such offtopic (and useless) things be reported, instead of complained at ?

Edit: Ah, forgot to mention to Mr. X. That piece was nice, but a little more description of the scene would be great. E.g. break up your dialogue with events that are occuring (bomb shells, etc.).

Think about it. THOR used to get mad at people like that, and now he's been de-moded, he can be an ass.

And this won't be a blog, ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, This is just storys and stuff.

You didn't get mad at the single storys that had thier own threads, did'ja?

THE captain stared out into the vast emptiness of space. He stood, with his hands behind his back, his tired eyes barely open, looking through the halogen-plasma ‘windows’, seeing the most incredible sight of all creation. The intricate weaving of planets and stardust swept him away.
“Peace,” One word echoed in his minds ear. The only thing he wanted, as it seemed.
“I’ve gotten into yet another war,” The aged and wise leader sighed. All he really wanted was for it to be over. The dark observation deck was his sanctuary. He casually leaned over, onto the railing. His weary eyes watched as the ship passed a planet, revealing a large gas constellation. No-one ever bothered him in here, and for good reason. Whenever the captain needed to be alone, he came here, and the only reason he needed to be alone, was either emotional troubles, or just feeling unsafe, and if the captain felt unsafe, then no-one was.