Crookery

[Fez]

Yes I'm making a whole story thing on Sky-Blue, last seen in Enter The Alphabet, I'm just gonna give him a backstory and you'll also hear stuff that'll help you understand ETA, when it comes back in November.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction created wholly by myself. It is unofficially backed by my "unofficial" design company so the copyright involved is strictly directed at me. I retain copyrights on the contents of this story. It is non-profit and made specifically for the enjoyment of others. The copy, sale, and distribution of this product is strictly prohibited. Distribution may be made only with my consent and permission.

Crookery Copyright GLP 2007

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter One

It always starts with a sentence. Or a word or a simple meaning, Sky-Blue's life didn't start as a crook, he was the quiet one. The segments of his life had all been planned out by his over-protective mother, his father had kept watch over his intereasts and friends and his sister simply behaved as a normal women, rushing around after her own children, not having enough time to stop and think.
At the age of 15 (born in 1979), he could obviously see the life of the modern world sprawling into activity. Media had been estabilished, a new fangled 'internet' had crawled into life and the age of the 'teenager' had almost broken inside the house of society. Living in a Northern Ireland hadn't been fair on him, the nearby High School had been closed, the town - Pllice, was under every motoryway and incredibly close to the murky depths of the river below. Small houses littered the river banks and only those who could afford a house, had them placed just across the road from the river bank, still being able to see the brown depressing view.
Sky was unfortunatly living in the middle, a cosy mansion in the middle between the two sides, the road splitting them led to his house. A overgrown garden wasteland laid around the crackened pavement, on the creaky porch, termites crawled and devoured, the porch swing had decayed over the past few years, but the mansion had stood for at least fifty years. Inside it was just as grief.
Paint had been scratched among the crooked walls, doors had been smashed down and still lay on the floor, the toliet was in any corners and they slept on beds. Sky's Father wished he could give his son a better life, a life he deserved, but he was dyslexic and had servere brain damage from a car accident that killed his wife. He worked as a gardner to the houses, his tax benifiets had not been recieved for 5 years and all money he gained went on bills, rent and food. Everything in the home had to be repossessed after the death of Sky's Mother, it wasn't always as dead as it seemed. After walking many miles each day to the School, even Sky got tired, his eduacation proved well and he took full advantage of it. His friends, that he only saw at school, all seemed to have better lives than him, he sometimes felt a strong feeling of envy, even though they wern't gloating.
Everything changed one day, Tuesday the 14th April 1994. Walking home from School wasn't as easy at seemed, his 'house' was at least 2 miles away. Nobody went his way, if they did, they went on buses. Normally walking down the countryside road, gave him time to think and contemplate on the day. His birthday was coming up in ten days time and he was ready for the teacher's strike he had been getting letters about. He had come to the twin roads, the left was quicker but more dangerous and the right more longer but safer. He usually took the right, but a feeling inside him told him to get home early, some sort of impulse, he didn't resist and proceeded down the road, to 'Draghun' Docks.
Walking through the docks was extreamly scary, he saw flashes of people rush in between small roads and other's eye him. Docking managers run far and wide, all of them carrying clipboards. He tried to remember this way which he had been taught, but he couldn't have seemed to picture it, he approached a sign which said 'Plice - 1 Mile' but the sign was on the floor, not showing which route to take, he approached one of the nearby docks, a dark gloomy stench ridden place. Wooden boats littered the place, broken and afloat, a couple of people were carrying a large box towards a small dinghy boat, the box seemed to look fragile yet still lightweight. Two men stood on the dinghy, eyeying every movement the workmen made, one had a black tuexedo and white t-shirt underneath, the other a grey tuxedo with another white t-shirt underneath. They both seemed to know where they were going.
He say the workmen looked spanish and we're crying spanish language at each other, the dock was very large and the box had started to look heavy. Sky approached them, cautious yet unconcerned who to ask.
"Be carefull with that 'medicine' you shrew!" bickered the black tuxedoed man, approaching him he saw the man had some kind of black toxic goo nailed into his jaws, the nails seemed to keep it together, the man had a completely black eye and the other was completely white as well. Sky eventually stood in front of the dinghy, the men seemed to notice him immeadiatly.
"'scuse me, d'ya know where Plice is?'' asked Sky politely
"Plice is..." said the black tuxedoed man, taking out a compass ''four miles right from where you are standing'' he continued.
''Aww damnit!'' said Sky angrily
"We're headed down that river though, if you wanna lift?" asked the black tuxedo man
Sky thought for a minute, questioning his memories for anything his father had said about taking lifts with strangers, he found nothing and replied ''Yes''. The grey tuxedoed man stepped to the left a little bit, Sky got on board and put his bag underneath the bench, the box was now been raised down , the small dinghy seemed to rock slightly, apart from that it stood quite still. Ten minutes later and they were speeding across the coast, and rushing down a small river,
It started to get rough with rocks and shattering peaks. They did eventually come through Plice Waters, but it was already 9 o'clock, the men hadn't talked all the way, and now they had stopped they seemed to have taken there attention to him.
"So how much you gonna pay us?" said the black tuxedoed man
"Wha.." questioned Sky, confused
"We're not a kiddy ride ya know?" he answered
"Well, I don't have any money on me and..." replied Sky
"All debts must be paid" said the man, looking at Sky agressively ''one way or another'' he continued
''Well how much do I owe you?''
"Four miles in a taxi is about one-hundred and five pounds"
"But my dad only makes fifty a week!"
"Then, you owe us the fuel"
"Wha.."
"An extra passengar costs an extra 25% of the fuel, you owe us that"
"Well how much is the fuel?"
"This dinghy is top-of-the-range technology, the fuel is aswell, about two hundred pounds a can"
"I can't pay you mate"
"So you just costed us four hundred pounds? Plus this 'medicine' proberly won't make it because of this delay''
''Well, I'm sorry, but..''
''Your gonna have to come with us"
"No, your just all over my case, look I'm sorry!...''
''Shush... Grey, grab him"
Sky charged off, the grey tuxedoed man ran after him, the guy seemed to be quite old, but still quite fit. Rushing across the street and turning was easy, but the long stretch home wasn't....
''DAD, DAAAAD!" yelled Sky, rushing up to the mansion, his sky-blue uniform oozing sweat. The man known as 'Grey' was gaining, but Sky picked up speed, his father had opened the mansion door, now running towards his Son. Sky looked behind, Grey had stopped and wasn't panting one bit... he was stood in the middle of the road, aiming a machine gun, a completely grey machine gun. An M4-Carbine Sky thought it was, from wathing kids at the local arcade. Grey had his finger close to the trigger, aiming directly at Sky. Sky froze, he was right in the line of fire,his father was rushing up to him yelling and bellowing him to run. Grey smiled, knowing the twisting emotions of a teenager would freeze Sky long enough, but Sky ignored his grin and rushed after his father, and as that happened, Grey pulled the trigger.
Bursts of fire littered around him, a couple of shots in his father's lower torso and a shock in his leg. His father fell to the ground, blacked out, while Grey had nailed Sky's hands together with a nail gun. Crying in pain and agony, the emotional and physical shocks debating inside him, shots of lightening surged about him as he saw his father lying half-dead on the floor, The world turned to darkness as the worlds of physicallity and emotion collidied inside his head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It get's better as it goes along trust me! I don't know how long it will be but it'll proberly be ended in January next year, ETA is already done, with a massive spolier at the end =]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Expect Chapter Two in early October

[Fez]

Chapter Two

Awaking to the sounds of beating bullets. Shards of concrete rushed down towards his feet like rivers, his Sky-Blue tuxedo withered and blood trenched. He looked around, his bruised eye could barely keeps stable. Yellow stood there with the submachine gun, firing at the guards, he looked more to his left and saw his Berrata pistol laying there. Picking it up, he readied himself for the coming battle.
"Could you hurry and wake up Sky?" said Yellow, firing a few rounds into the guards. The Rushmore Bank was full of the police, firing with there 9MM Pistols, Sky quickly reloaded his Berreta pistol and blind fired across the concretre block they were using for cover.
"Only a few left!" yelled Yellow, his voice bellowing over the sounds of gun shots. Sky dived over the concrete cover and fired right into a guard's leg, the opponent flew back in pain and blood flushed out as the vein of the floor. Yellow took out the last few guards and both men rushed towards the vault.
"What is it with you and dozing off?" asked Yellow, using the wrench to unscrew the vault hatch. The large steel doors flew open and inside lay thousands of bricks of gold. The sparkling of each brick seemed like a chunk of hummanity, Yellow pulled a large sack out of his backpack and gathered fifty blocks, he gave the other sack to Sky who followed along with the plan. Yellow then planted a C4 charge to dispose of the evidence, the operation was a success and both men left the bulding with hands full of gold. Speeding away in motorbikes, the police sirens raged though the streets, trying to find the culprits. The skyscrapers of Rushmore glinted like diamonds, it was a cold but glaring Sunday morning there. Crossing the Glace Bridge, and avoiding multiple taxis, a police car had now found the two: Sky quickly radioed Yellow about it. Both men readied their weapons and began firing at the police car's windscreen, not stopping there top acceleration. The police car started to manovere through the waves of cars, but the two men knew what was coming, a small mirror in there helmets let them seem what was rushing towards them. They damaged the cop car's windscreen with bursts of holes, no retaliation was put foward until...
A passengar in the car, lifted his head out of the window with a megaphone, he seemed furious the two men for damaging the vehicle.
"Sky Bartholemew Blue and Yellow Tunison, surrendar your weapons now and be gurranteed a safe and secure trial." said the voice from the megaphone, Sky simply turned around and fired directly into the cop's hands, a forbidden word echoed across the bridge.
The two men then thought nothing else would happen, they even picked up the pace and almost lost the car. But the same passengar had now risen out of the window, armed with a SPAS-12 shotgun. Sky's fear grabbed him and told him just run, run! Sky turned around hastily and picked up speed, the pistol was safely in his pocket. Yellow meanwhile had also taken similar action, now accelerating and manovering more, though he still flashed a few shots back. The cop car was faster, it's speed was beginning to match Sky's, it was gaining fast. Sky pushed the bike to the limit, racing between cars, trucks, other bikes and a few lorries. Sky took of his helmet for more view, his short brown hair started to blow backwards with the speed. The cop car had reached right behind him, the shotgun aiming directly at his bike.
Yellow was now raising his bike upwards and flying on top of the cars that came foward, Sky began to wonder why they didn't take the other route, the one were every driver was heading the same way. But Yellow knew that it would get them back to base quicker, but maybe kill them. Sky looked behind himself, that was the mistake of a lifetime, the mistake he could've made anytime except now. The shotgun fired, the bike flew into the air spinning and whizzing from the engine explosion, but where was the driver? Sky was holding on to the back of Yellow's bike, as it weaved in and out of the sea of cars, Sky's bike had flown into the ocean below, never to be seen again. Sky regained his stamina and grabbed onto Yellow's passengar seat, he lifted himself up and now they were back to back.
Sky muttered something under his breath, the cop car was gaining on the new duo bike, the floods of cars glinting into Sky's eyes, a feeling of rot poisoned his view. But nontheless Sky began to fire once more into the heart of the car's engine, the cop passengar tried to fire once more. But the shots began impaling into truck drivers, the trucks flipped and destroyed half of the cars on the bridge, including the cop car. Sky thought that it was all over, but it had just begun. Because high above the city, a detective named Morgan July had begun his annihilation of The Rainbow, starting with an agent named Yellow.

[hobo]

your grammer isn't very good.
you use commas to seperate sentences sometimes, when you should be using full stops.
& it sounds like you're trying to hard to write in a certain style, like with the strange sentence structure.
your spelling is baaaad.

@ the actual story, it's kind of dull, feels very dragged out and lengthy.
the dialogue is very unrealistic, just sounds like you read too many gangster stories or something.

o and this annoyed me

"Shards of concrete rushed down towards his feet like rivers"

makes no sense, at all.
you can't get shards of concrete for one, and for another, how the hell could they rush down like rivers :S
V bad similie.

there's a few very bad similies.
"The sparkling of each brick seemed like a chunk of hummanity"
doesn't work.

[Fez]

your grammer isn't very good.
you use commas to seperate sentences sometimes, when you should be using full stops.
& it sounds like you're trying to hard to write in a certain style, like with the strange sentence structure.
your spelling is baaaad.

@ the actual story, it's kind of dull, feels very dragged out and lengthy.
the dialogue is very unrealistic, just sounds like you read too many gangster stories or something.

o and this annoyed me

"Shards of concrete rushed down towards his feet like rivers"

makes no sense, at all.
you can't get shards of concrete for one, and for another, how the hell could they rush down like rivers :S
V bad similie.

there's a few very bad similies.
"The sparkling of each brick seemed like a chunk of hummanity"
doesn't work.





After reading it through a couple of times, I agree with you completely, I knew I should've edited it before I submitted it. My grammar and spelling have always been mixed up.

I'm sorry to other readers that this hasn't been up to what you think it is, I think I'm going to abandon this project altogether until I practice with having to work with wordpad.