Why can't i stop writing stories, dangit!

This one is a sequel of a sequel.

I'm not necessarily asking anyone to do anything, I just think it's cool to hear since you guys are the only people other than my friend Deborah who will actually listen to my stories ha ha I need to publish ha ha I have no other way to spend my time ha ha help Jesus help help meee..................

The B.E.S.S.T.
Mekhi Davis

Stephaun peeked out from behind the corner and looked into the large, open cave. Too dark to see anything. He inhaled deeply, then let it out in a long, stressed sigh. He got back into cover and brushed the large poof of soft, curly brown hair on his head, back to the rest of his blanketed scalp, where it wouldn't block his sight. He tapped a thin bracelet on his wrist and a hologram covered his entire arm. With just a few clicks a whole other menu screen was projected slightly above Stephaun's arm. The pale blue light flashed red for a second, indicating that no signal could be found. “Ah, dartreix. Still no signal. It's 2097 and we still can't find a better source of connection than wifi!?” He remarked in a hushed voice. He looked down at his space gear; a thin titanium breastplate bedazzled with a shiny gloss of black paint, with two studded, dark green shoulder-pads and a bulky protrusion of emerald colored aluminum, where the exoskeleton capable of carrying the heavy titanium gear Stephaun was required to wear was controlled at. The pants were plated iron coated in attenuated layers of black silicon so that the plates would be silent as they scraped against each other while moving. The only unarmored parts of his body were his face, the top of his head (he was very picky about his hair being free) and his right leg, which was a prosthetic. When Stephaun was shot in and through the knee by the flaming obsidian arrow of a demon, he soon got it amputated afterwards. It was now replaced with a lean titanium plated piece of machinery. His leg wasn't an average prosthetic, but rather the modified leg of an old mining robot his friend Shawn had repaired. The leg came equipped with a small booster rocket on the heel that could be used to slow Stephaun's falls, or kick a soccer ball, kickball, and possibly an enemies' balls really hard. Hard enough to convince someone the balls had never been there in the first place, as there'd be no trace of them besides blood, everywhere. Stephaun was so caught up in examining his armor, it took him more than a few seconds to become alert to the quiet hiss of the nearby monster. Stephaun immediately grabbed his blaster and scrambled to his feet, turning the corner and holding down the trigger, immediately lighting up the cave with short bursts of bright blue light. The lasers all hit the wall and erupted into sparks, but Stephaun kept firing anyways. With the cave temporarily lit up by the beams of superheated photons, Stephaun noticed a long, thin black rope slither out of his view. He turned to where it was and fired a single blast. Direct hit. He heard screeching and hissing galore, and realized the monster was more upset than ever now. He dove behind cover just in time for a glob of acid to strike and slowly eat through the rocky pillar he was standing behind. “Yikes.” He mumbled to himself. He lifted his hand and pressed a series of buttons on the back of his palm. Air molecules surrounding his hand transformed into tiny prisms and shards of glass that attached to his hand, and the glass shards manipulated and meshed together until Stephaun had a thick gauntlet made of solid glass in under a minute. He scraped a piece of the acid off of the rock, then using his other hand, grabbed a small metal circle, about the size of a ring from his utility belt. He put the ring on the goop, and as the ring spun and analyzed a fraction of the burning green glop. Words started popping up on another projection. Stephaun read them hastily, knowing he didn't have much time. “Come on, come on!” Stephaun squinted and didn't even notice he was reading everything aloud. “Uh. Here we go. Possible creatures… Tortriese…. Vulterg… Centireaper...” Stephaun heard another shrill hiss from right behind him. “Yeah.” Stephaun said, sighing. “Definetely a Centireaper.” Stephaun quickly got to the floor and kicked backwards randomly, hoping to confuse or stagger the monster. He rolled a few feet away and jumped up. A massive black centipede with a single eyeball the size and shape of a football on its top glared down at Stephaun. It raised up, balancing on its back legs, while its front four legs, specialized to be longer and sharper, were raised in an attempt to intimidate Stephaun. It worked. Stephaun started sweating profusely, but stood completely still. The monster glared at him with its single, massive eye, piercing Stephaun's valiant bravery with the shear power of fear. Stephaun held his breath and puffed out his chest, to seem more in control. The monster was not amused. With a low growl seemingly coming from its eyeball, the beast slowly lurked toward Stephaun. Stephaun waited. The Centireaper closed in on Stephaun, and Stephaun very slowly exhaled into a long, loud whistle. The beast flinched and moved backwards, confused. Stephaun ran out of breath, and looked up at the Centireaper. After a few seconds it re-initiated its approach toward Stephaun, intent on killing him. Stephaun smirked. A distant rumbling was heard and the Centireaper looked to its right near a crumbling cave wall. Stephaun turned and jumped to the floor, covering his head. The already unstable wall quickly exploded into rubble as a massive black and brown arachnid's leg rammed through it and shook around wildly, attempting to hit the Centireaper. Stephaun crawled low so as to not be hit by the leg, then, when it was scraping around the other side of the room, Stephaun stood and ran at the leg. As it flew back over to him, Stephaun jumped and grabbed onto the leg as it thrashed around the room. he balanced himself on the sturdy spider leg and pulled out his blaster as he wobbled back and forth. The Centireaper kept attempting to leap at Stephaun, but every time it prepared to jump the leg would swipe it back. Stephaun aimed carefully while moving wildly around the room on the spider's leg, and then fired two blasts of laser-light into the Centireaper's eye, completely melting off the surface of the eye. Stephaun, then knelt down and stroked the spider leg. The arachnid calmed down and stopped moving so crazily. Stephaun hopped off the leg and watched as it slid out of the cave. Stephaun peeked out of the destroyed wall and looked up at the twenty foot tall daddy-long-legs spider above him. “Thanks, Father Lean Legs.” Stephaun said. The massive spider let out a growl, then turned and left, every step shaking the ground around Stephaun. Stephaun turned around and walked over to the Centireaper, writhing in pain on the floor, wriggling around like a headless snake. Stephaun pulled a long, decorated bronze dagger from his side. He spun it around in his hand before raising it above his head and bringing it down into the bloody, melted eye of the Centireaper. It let out a single, hair-raising screech before it went silent. Stephaun released a short laugh before standing up and stretching. He turned around and walked out the hole in the cave wall. He pressed his hand up to a fingerprint scanner on the collarbone of his suit. Suddenly, a microphone formed out of crystals and dirt from the floor around Stephaun and attached to his face. “Gerith. The Centireaper matriarch is dead. You can tell the villagers that the cave should be safe to explore now, only thing left are a few giant moths. Nothing they can't handle. Send Shawn to come pick me up.”

that's the first paragraph


  • Jeff put the last of his holographic magazines and heavy hardback textbooks into his satchel, which was tearing at the seems from nine years of use. His last day of college. He looked sentimentally upon the massive campus that had brought so many memories of fun times and mental torture throughout his years spent there. He was excited to take his part time job as a member of the old S.C.E.W.G.S. (Super Cool Extraterrestrial Weightless Garbage-men from Space) team Z, and head to a full time job as second in command of the B.E.S.S.T., the Bravest Extraterrestrial Super Space Team. The only person above him was Stephaun, who, had always been that way in a sense, as he was the self-appointed leader of their squad when they and their friend Shawn all worked as S.C.E.W.G.S.. Ever since they helped Jeff's father (chief of the entire alien race the Qwopsolian) stop a semi-Omnipotent demon overlord, they were given enough money in reward of their heroics to ditch being garbage men altogether and start their own business. Now they were hired guns; protecting important people from assassination attempts, exterminating nests of deadly monsters, performing exorcisms and menacingly shooting at bullies and raiders causing repeated problems; and sometimes killing them, if necessary. In 2097, the explored universe was so vast, and so many new species were discovered, that murder was only really a local problem anymore. If you were to kill someone, you'd only be actively pursued on the same planet that you killed that person, or if they were important, at least maybe the galaxy they were in would be informed and you would be attacked on sight on any planet in that vicinity. With some races, like humans, murder may cause more problems. But with certain races, like Florans, the plant people, or Avians, the bird people, families are so large and over-population is so severe that not many would notice, and even less would care if someone were to die. The generation, and many to follow it were cruel and harsh, and the saying still goes to this day, even truer than before: Keep your friends close, and your enemies in your cross-hairs. Jeff knew this very well, too. If he were to count friends, he realized that out of the hundreds of people he had met, only a few mattered. Stephaun, his best friend. Shawn, who brought so much joy to he and his other friends' lives. Gerith, who was a mysterious and wonderful robotic being, brings interest and surprise, as well as loyalty. Abide, the witchdoctor, who had saved the team single-handedly on many occasions, but is so humble that he had never once asked for anything, and of course, Jeff's fiance and soon to be wife Naomi. From a human's perspective, most Qwopsolian, with their large heads, three black eyes and turquoise skin were not particularly attractive. But Naomi was beatific to everyone, somehow. And better yet, she was strong and independent. She had before helped the team on missions, despite Jeff constantly telling her there was no reason to put herself in as much danger as they were constantly in, but she insisted, and no one could tell her otherwise, maybe out of respect, maybe out of fear, maybe because of her clear ability to take care of herself, or even just her tenacity as a friend and companion, maybe all of the above. Jeff couldn't ask for anyone better. He himself was fairly average, why Naomi fell in love with him he wasn't sure. Jeff was just like most Qwopsolian, Three eyes, a medium sized antennae on the top of his head, capable of being used like a tentacle, that always sat rested calmly down the back of Jeff's head until it was needed. Four arms of course, and a pronged reptilian tongue. This tongue is one of the features that define a Qwopsolian, a mostly humanoid reptilian animal from a Hylotl, Fish people who look closely the same as Qwopsolian other than slight differences is skin color, and larger eyes that were red instead of black. Jeff had only two features to define him from the average Qwopsolian. He wore an eye patch, as he was blinded in his left eye during a fearsome battle, and he had apricot colored stripes crossing over his face, arms, and upper chest. The stripes had been on him since birth, and no one knew why. He didn't mind though, as they had rarely caused him any problems. Jeff caught himself pondering and shook his head. He turned away from his college and walked over to the edge of the floating island he was on and pulled a small cube out of the pocket of his plain black sweatshirt. He lifted the cube up to his face, and a scanner scanned his middle eye. The scanner blinked a green light three times in confirmation, and Jeff tossed the cube off the side of the cliff. He peered over the edge and looked at the cube as it transformed into a much larger object as it fell. In a few seconds, the new object started rising back up at a mediocre pace. Jeff turned around and said his last goodbye to his old college building. When he turned back around, a slim ruby red hover-bike was in front of him. He climbed on and revved the bike before driving off, the bike's oxygen-powered engine softly humming as Jeff headed towards the airport spaceport where he would be picked up by Shawn.

    that's the second
  • “The highest IQ in four of the most science-affixed galaxies in the known universe and I’m stuck chauffeuring my friends to and from their daily, ritualistic routine areas.” Shawn mumbled. He wasn't wrong, though. In an annual competition of trivia from every category, Shawn scored fifth place two years in a row, and third place in the most recent competition. He can calculate problems faster than most any mortal homo-sapien ever could, and was smart enough to engineer a substance lighter than a thin steel plate, but nearly fifty times more resilient with nothing but iron, a bucket of bonding materials, an open garbage-dump to collect items from and the atmosphere of an extremely radioactive planet, which Shawn also had to repair a broken air-filter in under two minutes while he held his breath, so that he wouldn't die from the toxic, infected methane air. As normally a child-at-heart and fun guy to be around, Shawn strongly-disliked having to drive his friends around. The ship had an autopilot, but with a star-ship so big, the autopilot often clipped buildings with its wings, or crushed its tail when coming out of large tunnels and caves it thought it had made its way through. Shawn was forced to drive. Stephaun was working full-time at his job, making sure he kept the place going when no one else would. Jeff had just finished college and would soon be joining Stephaun in that same job. Abide was always in some other plane of reality, or dimension, or occasionally hell, fighting demons and drudes and cambions capable of destroying small planets with nothing but the flick of a wrist. And last but not least, Gerith, the most advanced AI of any android/robot to ever exist, and he spent his time… working minimum wage at a coffee shop. He said he enjoyed it, and that it would help him adapt to social events again since he had been locked away in an underground warehouse so long… seven years ago. He also pointed out that Stephaun might need the extra money to keep his business going, even though, seven years later Stephaun was quite well off, after his monthly bills were payed he still had enough money to buy a yacht and have a couple hundred bucks left over. Shawn knew he couldn't complain, though. He flipped his straight blonde hair out of his face, revealing his pale complexion and baby blue eyes. He lowered the ship. He had finally arrived at Stephaun's location. He pressed a few buttons, opening teleporter access. In a few seconds, a flash of red light shone through the whole ship, and Stephaun was in the center of the ship's living quarters. He brushed a few ashes off his shoulder and patted out a small fire on his right leg. “Thanks for beaming me up, Shawny. You really need to work out some of these bugs, though. I'd like to not catch on fire every time I beam up to the ship.” Shawn turned around and scoffed at Stephaun. “Well maybe I'd have time if I didn't spend eleven hours of my day warping from star to star taking you guys on joy rides. I barely have enough time to work on my projects anymore.” Stephaun put his hands up. “Yikes, I submit. You don't have to drive Jeff to college anymore at least. After today, you'll get to take one less stop than normal. That should free up about two hours.” Shawn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess. But maybe Gerith can take over on the weekends or something, just so I can have a day of doing what I want to do.” Stephaun shrugged. “Maybe.” He turned and walked over to his own room, then waltzed in and turned on the radio before falling backwards onto his twin sized bed and snoring loudly, to give the impression he was asleep and didn't want to be bothered

    that's the third.
  • Abide was always in some other ethereal plane, defending the Universe in which all his friends lived from the likes of demons, cambions, drudes, and a number of alternate, other-worldly creatures capable of destroying small planets with nothing but the flick of th- “Look at the flick of the wrist! (dat wrist!) Look at the flick of the wrist! (dat wrist!)” Currently, Abide was not in any particular place, he was back on the ship, meditating. He had been so quiet Shawn had never heard him in his room, and he was planning on maintaining that silence until Stpehaun had turned on his radio in his room, full blast, with the door wide open. Abide sighed and got up off of his bed. He opened his right hand, and in the center of his palm was a hole. Abide moved the fingers on his hand in mysterious patterns and orders until the hole in the middle of his hand started slowly spewing out a multicolored smoke. Once enough of the smoke had been released, it all quickly jumped into the shape of Abide's staff. Abide grabbed the smoke, and it quickly hardened into the staff it normally was; the top half being a crooked shepard's staff, covered in the beautiful red green and blue feathers of the Archaeopteryx. The bottom half of the staff wasn't really even a staff at all, but a straight black sheath decorated with golden swirls and wave symbols. Inside the sheath was Abide's Falchion sword, whose handle, was of course, the upper half of the staff. Abide himself was a mysterious sight. He was born half Floran, half Avian, which caused a unique facial deformation he allowed no one to see. So to cover this, he wore a cow skull garnished with Mayan paint resembling like one would have seen on The Day of the Dead. Not even Abide's closest friends had seen under this mask. Abide's skin was a mantis colored body of small, equally green feathers which one could not distinguish from skin at a far distance. His normal attire was a tea-stained medieval peasant's shirt and a pair of black shorts. The sleeves of his shirt were decorated with the same feathers as on his staff, and his shoes were simple fur boots, seemingly ancient. Abide also had wings, but not because he was Avian, or deformed, but because he was a connoisseur in the arts of magic, and specialized in the magics of light and dark, good and evil, ying and yang, angels and demons. Whatever you chose to believe, Abide had studied both the good and bad of it. His mere presence was unsettling, from his appearance to the power that seemingly radiated off of him. In a world where science had so far advanced, nearly everyone, including some of Abide's own friends were Atheist. But there were still extremists and cultists, and some who were actually sane in their faiths, Abide being one of those people. A strong believer in God and magic was different to most of the world, and despite Abide's strange appearance and silence loud enough to fill an entire room, that belief in the unseen was taken as the most eerie thing about him in most people's perspective. Abide walked out of his room, his feet noiseless, and his staff tapping lightly. As he passed Stephaun's room, without a glance or a motion of the hand, he caused the radio to change channels, and it landed on nothing but static. Stephaun's “sleep” was interrupted by the static. And he jumped out of his bed and scoffed, then turned the radio off completely. Abide continued walking into the ship's living room, which was at the very center of the ship, connected immediately to the dorms and bridge. He sat down on a red, modern couch. “Shawn. I do not read Gerith or Jeff's signatures nearby. Where are they?” Shawn flinched at the sound of Abide's telepathic voice. Abide was a room away talking to him, his voice deep and calm, surrounding Shawn completely. “Well, uh, Abide, Gerith is still at work and we're going to pick up Jeff from his last day of college as we speak. If Gerith gets off of work early, we'll get him too, since they're currently on the same planet.” Abide nodded. “thank you, Shawn. Please, turn on the soundproofing charges in my room; Stephaun's choice in loud rap music does not suit my practices.” Shawn rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Abide got up and began walking away. “And Shawn, please refrain from rolling your eyes at me.”\

    *yawn* 4.
  • Jeff rode through the busy streets of the city skillfully on his sleek hover-bike. He calmly zipped through tight spaces between cars and wagons, alleyways and pedestrians while the soft whir of his vehicle nearly lulled him to sleep. He came to rest at a Sundollars coffee shop. The shop was the only familiar thing to him in the city. The whole planet was founded by Hylotl, so the massive bustling city was mainly prideful dark blue, towering skyscrapers and neon red light-up signs. The coffee shop's cafe brown and olive green look stood out from the city's style; which resembled a crowded Tokyo, but much larger. Jeff parked his hover-bike by the wall of the coffee shop and walked inside. He went up to the counter where his friend Gerith was. “Hey, Gerith!” Gerith's digital eyes; two green blocks projected as a hologram onto his face, turned into “u” shapes, to express content. “Friendly. Hello, Jeff. It is nice to see you again. What would you like to drink today? Sneaky. I can give you a discount.” Jeff waved his hand . “No, no sneaky discounts. I'm here to pick you up from work early.” Gerith's eyes went from content to happiness. “Joyous. What a nice surprise! Allow me to clock out.” Gerith took off his apron and walked away. His body was made of a tough steel allow stronger than bone, and about an inch thick. It was a wonder someone could fit so much machinery into the small area of Gerith's body that wasn't already occupied. Gerith's head had a strong resemblance to the robot from the movie Chappie, from the antennae to the monitor screen face. But Gerith's was much cleaner, more attractive, and more modern. No loose wires or parts hanging out, but a polished, shining face with two navy blue antennae. Gerith's arms and legs were some of the best engineered robotic limbs known to man. They were built from scratch using vacuum tubes, which were then plated and filled with a light exoskeleton and actuators capable of lifting an immense amount of weight if necessary. His feet were steel-toed boots… made completely out of steel, and filled with more exoskeleton. His hands were so carefully designed they could do exactly what a normal human hand could, but better. His stomach area was the same material as his arms and legs, and his chest… was where he was powered by a simple, old coal furnace. Yes, on the chest of this futuristic, highly advanced robot was a vent that could be opened and closed to have coal put inside so it could be used as Gerith's primary fuel source. Because Gerith's creators, and their entire race, were slaughtered in a massive war, and no one really understood why Gerith was made the way he was. They found other like him, clad in medieval garb, holding swords and crossbows. But they were all broken upon repair, even to the likes of someone like Shawn. And maybe it was for the better. Gerith, by himself, was a highly intelligent, learning AI who could utilize his surroundings and his body, which was far superior to the bodies of most homo-sapiens. Gerith's friends didn't mind him being one-of-a-kind, because otherwise they would've lost interest in him, and Gerith was quiet interesting. Gerith finally convinced his manager he had to go; it was difficult to lie when you stated your emotion right before you spoke. Gerith hung up his apron and clocked out. He walked over to Jeff and handed him a plain latte. “Caring. I thought you might get thirsty, so I got you a coffee anyways.” Jeff smiled. “Thanks.” They both turned and walked out of the coffee shop. Jeff was going to add a module to his hover-bike so that it would have two seat- Wait. Where was Jeff's hover-bike. Jeff's antennae stood up. It sniffed around the air, acting as Jeff's nose. And ears. He heard the familiar whirring of his hover-bike; it had a slight clink every five seconds from when Jeff had rammed it into the side of another bike by accident. “Gerith! Someone took my bike! It's that way!” Jeff pointed in the general direction in which the sound was coming. Gerith nodded. “Planning. Jeff, since you can hear the bike, you follow on foot. I'll try and see if I can spot it from the rooftops.” Jeff nodded and dashed off after the direction the sound was coming from. Gerith looked up the side of a fairly tall building. He held his wrist up to the building, and a series of plates of metal came out of the slits in between his arm and elbow. It assembled a heavy iron coating around his forearm. Gerith slapped his other hand onto the iron glove, and a grapple shot out of the front of it, flying all the way to the top of the building. Gerith twisted the glove, and the grapple began reeling him in, up to the top of the building

    the fifth, and the last one I'm gonna show you because I can just tell you're tired of reading.
  • And then the duacn commander shot his face
  • @nothingtoseehere

    the B.E.S.S.T. vs the Ducan commander:

    story of the century
  • Captian BESST: civil war
  • @nothingtoseehere

    Captain Stephaun vs. Iron Ducan
  • Captain Red, the Space Soldier
  • did you know that when i can't use Red as a nickname is use MrCaptainRed?
  • Mr. Captain Red, the Space Soldier
  • & Arcade Machine
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