The faster you go, the longer you have to live.
Someone once told me that.
He called it…
GODSPEED.
Cast:
Da-Silva’s:
Aluric Shiro Da-Silva: A headstrong boy, effeminate in appearance, whose talent with a sword lands him in many sticky situations. Due to his advanced reflexes and running ability, his friends call him GODSPEED. His weapon: a short bladed katana. His secret is about to be revealed…
Roquefort Kuro Da-Silva: Shiro’s older brother, his talent lies in his latent physical strength, enough to shatter even the strongest defense. His weapon: greaves and gauntlets. As cocky as he is he still cares deeply for his little brother.
Roderick Da-Silva: father of Shiro and Kuro. He is rarely home as his business takes him across the country. His past is beginning to catch up with him…
Marie Da-Silva: Shiro and Kuro’s mother. A kindly middle aged woman who’s talent in the kitchen is unmatched.
La-Crusus:
Emmillene Vera La-Cruses: a young woman, who is smitten with shiro. She finds his little “secret” very cute. Her speed sometimes rivals Shiro’s but her talents lie elsewhere.
Diale La-Crusus: Vera’s mother. She is very secretive, but accepts her daughter’s decision admirably.
Others:
Galiei Fenris: a man from roderick’s past, who has vowed to destroy the Da-Silvas. His skill with a blade matches shiro’s. His weapon: two broadswords.
Derran: a boy of Shiro’s age who hates him for what he is. His weapon of choice is a .454 calibur handgun.
Whittford Ko-Yami Foxx: a dispirited boy who always wears black. His motives and history remain unknown. Weapon of choice is the ko-yami kuro no yamato, a katana possessed of a dark aura…
Prologue:
On scene: a long
asphalt road, punctuated by the occasional pothole, a choking gray mist covers
it. Walking along this road is a tall white fox, dressed in a Kevlar Coat, he
seems preoccupied, but looks up as he nears. “Welcome to the blackness of my
mind, a place where even a simple nightmare can kill you more surely than the
strongest poison.” “What you are about to read may be disturbing,, so if you have a weak stomach please leave now.” “thank you for your patronage.”
--TERCIEL
Chapter One
The two battled like fierce enemies, trading blows so fast that the eye could barely see, thick iron gauntlets meeting the sweet biting steel of bloodthirsty katana. But as fast as they flew, as swift as they struck, not a drop of blood was spilled. Their combat ended in a swift flowing motion, so graceful almost a dance in its wildness. The two stood stonelike, staring at each other, and then as if some signal were sent, the both started laughing. A deep, rich belly laughter.
“Well brother, what do you think? A good match? Or were we missing something?”
“Exhilarating as always. As good as the last time you asked. You know, being the older brother, you sure are immature.” A round of applause from the direction of their house jolted them out of their reverie. “That was astounding! Not even a scratch for either of you. I can only wonder just how good you’ll be in a few years. Whoops, lunch is ready, ignore the smell you’re father left some thing in here and I’m not about to touch it. Yeech!”
The two looked at each other again and started another round of laughter.
---Wild-Wolf law offices, owner’s suite---
At forty five Galiei had not lost his looks. He always had the appearance of having just woken up, calm and slightly rumpled, the stubble on his rarely shaved face only adding to his allure. As head of the wild-wolf law-firm, he had everything he could have ever wanted. But something eluded him still, some bit of unfinished business. Something from back in his college days, even back then he had been popular, and something of a ham as well.
---
-Back of house-
Derran aimed. it being thirty pounds, .45 caliber to boot, and him only using his right hand, that was no easy task.
his luminous amber eyes, a prank of the swindling gene pool, stared down the sight with a ferocious intensity.
Who would have thought the track team captain was into guns?
---Tomb of Ramses III,
with his developing beer gut and ever present boonie hat, roderick may not have seemed much of a threat, but his skills with a whip were legendary as some of his assistants could tell you, of course they had earned what they got, slacking off during working hours to do heaven knows what.
Actually, he rarely used it unless there was a raid during their explorations, which had only happened once. better safe than sorry though. right?
---depths of despair, mind of whittford---
"no time nor power to waste. I truly am cursed with bad luck" he scowled in disgust. a gesture somewhat at odds with his appearance, as he looked to be around twelve years old. truth be told, he was old enough that the holocaust seemed like recent news.
His name: whittford k. foxx, sometimes called ko-yami.
CHAPTER TWO: Faster than thou.
THUMP
shiro woke up on the floor, as he had every morning for the past four years, stood up and stretched long and luxuriantly. his light tan appeared to cover his whole body, except for a large yellow tinted mass around his middle.
he felt like he was being watched.
"what a little baby. fourteen and still wetting the bed"
"you know I can't help it."
"whatever." kuro said, and walked off.
Shiro stood for a minute, relieved that it hadn't been his mother.
He then went to his closet and attempted to find something to wear. after several minutes he pulled out a Hawaiian shirt and a pair of faded jeans.
After a moment's hesitation he ran across the hall to the bathroom. Colored an off color shade of puce, it usually made visitors nauseous within a few minutes.