Ashes Snippet 3

 So, I managed to render 10 seconds of the video last night, and 2 today at breakfast and another 2 at lunch. This is going to be a long term render project.

Anyway, Firefox is acting up so let's see if I can get the snippet out:

Necrons

 

Cast:

Necron Bishop Hemdale

Jimmy Faldron: Convert

 

Founders:

Doctor Victor “Doctor Death” Mengelov: Necron leader.

Doctor Nesset: Necron second-in-command.

Doctor Shio Ishi: Necron third-in-command.

Doctor Dollmaker

Doctor Hugo Strange

Doctor Cadmus Peverell: Deathly hallow loved a woman who died, tried to bring her back, suicide.

 

Scottsdale IV, Epsilon Sector

 

Bishop Hemdale walked with a slow pace through the black halls. He had no idea why the Necrons preferred Gothic architecture. He didn't understand a lot of things about his adopted people. He didn't need to.

He was dressed in flowing robes of blood red and black. A matching mitre was on his head. Gold was woven into his outfit. The gold was a circuit design that interfaced with his cybernetic implants. The robes and mitre were to cover any blood he encountered. The mitre also covered the fact that his skull had been opened up, and he now had metal and plastic components along with a clear glass shell.

He didn't care for looks. He had risen through the Scottsdale chapter ranks to get where he was. He, unlike some of their number, actually appreciated his new form and newfound power.

Before, he had been a poor, down-on-his-luck immigrant on the streets of the colony. He'd come with such high hopes, trained in a variety of skills from construction to trauma medicine. He'd been dismayed that housing had been so crushingly expensive.

Since he had been new, he hadn't had an address. He, therefore, was classed as transitory. He'd tried to stay at a motel and had burned through what little cash he had rather quickly. He'd made mistakes.

When he'd been kicked out, he'd found it even harder to find a job. No one would hire him since he had no roots or a place to check on him. It had been hard to see interviewers give a fake customer service smile and pass him by.

Without money he had been stuck on the streets. At night he had been oppressed by the local law, driven into the shadows and away from the public eye. The public citizens and tourists didn't like the homeless population.

He'd worked whatever day laborer job he could find to get income with the intent of clawing his way back into the good graces of society. He had never been able to save anything though and had been robbed more than once. Several times he'd worked for someone and gone above and beyond to do the job … only to be stiffed in the end and laughed at. He hadn't been able to call the police for help, and they knew it and had taken advantage of him. He'd tried his hand at panhandling too when he was desperate and had endured beatings because of it.

He had become desperate and depressed and had fallen into the usual sewer of drug use and alcohol to cope. That had started him on a fast downward spiral. He'd even sold his body for sex a few times just to get his next fix when the addiction had kicked in and the cravings had gotten bad.

The Necrons had found him, half alive. He'd all but given up on life. They had shown him a new path. Cybernetic implants changed the cravings to one of power and of pleasure from direct neural stimulation of his pleasure centers.

He had risen through the ranks, showing a willingness that others lacked. He had even met a clone of Doctor Dollmaker and had been ordained into the Necron priesthood, their medics.

The clone had been one of several who had been making the rounds apparently. But he spoke with the master's voice.

He touched the Lazarus mind through his implants, caressing its sleeping mind and then went back to his walk.

His body was hunched over; he had implants on his back along with additional grafted on limbs. His legs had been replaced long ago. His flesh was weak with age and with rejection of the implants, but his spirit was alive with a fire and zeal few in their ranks had.

Which was why he was in charge, and they knew it.

<<<*>>>

Jimmy muttered, head bouncing around as he gibbered. He was in the throws of a bad trip he thought over and over again. The things that carried him were a nightmare.

His body was partially paralyzed from whatever spider thing had found him. He'd been asleep in the flood canal and now they were carrying him … somewhere. It was hard to think.

He started to gibber and someone in black and red touched him gently. He saw a needle come out of a hand and claw-like fingers stroke his flesh before the needle was plunged in.

Bliss overtook him within seconds, and he groaned greedily, happy once more.

<<<*>>>