Crestfallen Studios

Section One: Fallout
Chapter One: Tempest
Beverly Hills, CA

Ugh, how boring.
The chatter was almost too droll for his brain to process. Emerald green eyes gazed dully at the party, and he heaved a heavy sigh that reeked of vodka.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned a baleful gaze on his co-star, a pretty red-head whose name he couldn't remember in his drunken stupor. Her smile was nice, too.
"C'mon, Mac, join the party; we're free at last!"

Mackenzie groaned. He hated being called Mac, but his first name-Daedalus- was even worse. Damn hippy parents, he though, and not for the first time.

It was the airing of the last episode of the series he'd been tied to for 8 years, since he'd been a boy of 19. "Pay Per View" was a morbidly popular TV show about a cable TV show. Smutty, stupid, full of slapstick, it was the hottest show in America.

Mackenzie had originally just been a bit character; A walk on in the cable show that had been kept around because the bombshell director- the redhead- had liked his "creative input." Over the years, Mac's character had ousted the redhead- saved the show from terrorists, and gone through enough soap opera cliches to make a good actor like Ian McKellen vomit.

Tonight was the "last episode party." Mac didn't feel like celebrating. As awful as the show was, it was connected to him now; he'd only ever get smutty parts now, and he wanted something more.
He groggily stood up, and headed to the bathroom for a nice puke.

As he stumbled into the bathroom, he took a look at himself.
This was not 19 year old Daedalus Mackenzie looking at him. This man had baggy eyes, a 5:00 shadow, and shaggy black hair, not his natural snowy blond.

He cursed the show one last time, and he heard the first scream.

I love how his name is Daedalus, which hasn't been used for like 200 years.

I like how its short enough to stay within my attention span.

One of the greatest disabilities associated with ADD. This was the only story on this site that i've been able to read without having to look at something else.

Sorry my ADD is to big. I stopped after "The chatter was almost too droll for his brain to process" to go play Guild Wars.

His ADD is "too big"...? Um, okay.

It's not written too badly, but the story is kind of... odd. And using your nickname is unnecessary for something like that.

I'm assuming it's a work in progress, though, otherwise it would be pretty dumb.

I would assume that Daedalus is a character he's had for awhile, probably before he signed up for these boards. It's the same way with Inderos, for me.


Anyways, I have no real comments on the story itself. Doesn't really seem like he put enough effort into it for me to critique it.

I'll have to concur with Sage on the whole being able to read it without being distracted. But aside from that, it seems decent... In a weird, "where the hell is this trailing off to" kind of sense.

Well, yeah, it's short.
But I guess I'm knicking the idea from some fiction authors who put in that really short intro chapter, y'know?
That said, I think I'll break up the future chapters into multiple posts.

Expect the next chapter to show up tomorrow when I'm in school and bored.

[A note: the first few chapters are going to be a chronicle of a disaster happening simultaneously around the world, as well as the fallout. Expect catastrophe and frequent character switching. Thanks for bearing with me.
Also, people touchy about Sept 11th might not want to read this part.
Honestly, I had the idea for this part of the story before 2000. Even at the tender age of 12 I had this idea, after a visit to this landmark]

The air was not much thinner up here, but, in its own way, it was delicious.
The lights danced across his eyes, and Noah McAfee wished for once that he could be a city boy. The streets of Paris were so enticing, especially from this high up. This definitely beats Omaha.

A native Nebraskan, Noah was just fresh out of high school, and had opted to go to college in France for a year in preparation for a degree in Political Science, with an emphasis in Foreign Studies. On the flight there, he had met an amazing French girl, and he had been saving up money to buy a ring, though it had only been a month. He was so sure that this would be the most eventful year of his life.

He smiled and the cool evening air stirred his simple American clothes, and he listened to the dull roar that was Paris. He wondered how his parents would think about him. It had been about 6 years since they died in a tragic accident when a gas leak killed every one in the TV station where they worked.

He sighed a little bit-this sort of thinking always got him down. Not the kind of thinking he should have going on his head tonight. He ignored the whirlwind of noise in his head right now, or tried to, at least.
((Edit: well, that was longer than I intended. Broken up.))

And then he realized it wasn’t coming from his head. Turning around, he gripped the railing behind him tight enough to whiten his knuckles. The dull metallic tinge of the plane made it seems monstrous. Noah looked over the edge, to the ground, which seemed a lot closer than before, and switched his gaze back to the plane. It was above him, heading toward the top of the tower. Next to him, people were fleeing the restaurants and gift shops on the main concourse area. Riots had broken out, and he a man and woman grappling with each other near the edge. His eyes were full of fear, hers full of betrayal.

And Noah moved. No matter what happens, no NEVER mistreat a woman. It was a lesson his father had told him over and over, one that he treasured as much as any memory of his father.
The first impact rocked the tower. The fireball enveloped the top of the tower, and shrapnel peppered the deck. Everyone had been thrown off balance, and Noah saw someone get knocked over the edge by a flaming armrest. His scream was ear piercing, and the cacophony was impossible to ignore. The woman he had been struggling to assist had fallen to her knees, and, five feet away, had been skewered by a piece of metal. The long, jagged shard had pierced her chest just above the ribs, below the neck, and pinned her to the railing at an odd angle as blood bubbled from her mouth.
He leaned against the railing for support, and felt a stab of pain up his left side. He turned to look, and saw a chef’s knife buried up to its handle in his shoulder. The man standing next to him was a gangly man clothed in traditional waiter clothes, and his eyes hated. His hands grabbed for Noah’s throat, and Noah felt sobs coming up from his chest.
And then he tumbled over the edge as their section of the Tower fell off. The top of the tower had fallen, ripping a seam in the deck, and Noah’s last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness was whether he’d be buried in America or France.
((So, I'm still in debate as to whether this character lives or not.
But I'll include one more chapter from another character, and then get back to Daedalus))

NEVER QUADRUPLE POST!

Drat. Had you not posted I could have quint posted.

Trust me, you don't want to quintuple post. You don't want to quadruple post either, but its alittle late for that warning.