The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Fiction detailing the ongoing events on the Homeline and numerous parallel Worldlines.

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The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 1:57 pm

First Man:
I think...
I think I am.
Therefore I am!
I think...

Establishment:
Of course you are my bright little star...
I've miles and miles of files
Pretty files of your forefather's fruit
And now to suit our great computer
You're magnetic ink!

First Man:
I'm more than that
I know I am...
At least, I think I must be

Inner Man:
There you go, man
Keep as cool as you can
Face piles of trials with smiles

It riles them to believe
That you perceive
The web they weave...
And keep on thinking free

In the Beginning: Moody Blues 1969

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:18 pm

The room was stale, a strip of sunlight carrying dust mites above him.
He groggily returned to consciousness, squeezing his eyes together to make them water and flush dirt from them.
He had no idea of how long he had been out and it puzzled him that he couldn't recollect how or when he had passed out or come to this room.

A sense of panic quickly seized him; he couldn't feel anything, only turn his head a little, move his eyes and twitch his nose.

The feelings of numbness, helplessness and claustrophobia coupled with the feeling that his brain was clogged and bursting with throbbing pain overcame him. His watering eyes perceived colours and shapes but no clarity to his vision.

Feebly, he struggled against this strange paralysis and the fearful uncertainty of being. A croak of protest and fear emitted from his extremely dry throat.

He started to take in his surroundings; the outside light was shrouded by a pair of partially drawn curtains.
The pattern was vaguely oriental, a glossy silver with curved yellow flowers running their length.
A sweet smoky smell invaded his nostrils, he struggled to recognise it, not food, maybe incense.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:20 pm

He was growing uncomfortable now, not least due to his incapacity but also for two other reasons, the first was that he was very clammy and not just because it was hot in the small room, his skin was greasy and he felt washed out.

The second was that it occurred to him, he couldn't hear any sounds, anything outside of the room.

Moving his head agonisingly slowly to the right side he squints down the length of his body.
Is he tied up?
Is he in fact completely strapped into something such as a Gurney?
What is holding him in this state? Could it be some sort of effect from the incense?

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:22 pm

Slowly but surely feeling began to return, first the painfully slow turn of his head, then the twitch of his fingers.
Angling his head to the side allowed him to look down his body, he was laid upon a simple cot, and nothing restrained him other than his own impotence to move
Momentarily a dream like image of a pretty girl, with long brown hair, cherry red lipstick and a long flowing yellow dress entered his head.

This acted as a small respite from his awful personal turmoil and predicament. Closing his eyes he dragged all of his nervous, fearful energy to focus on that vision, like a man clawing on a cliff face to prevent a fall into nothingness.

Squeezing his eyes closed his vision or memory flickered trying to capture the girl.

He caught fragments, the same image of her frolicking on a summer’s day, running around a picnic laughing with abandon. The grass was long, flattened by the picnic blanket.

Distantly he became aware that the silence had broken, a faint "Atenshun" and a song

"To take you in the sun to promised lands
To show you every one
It's the time of the season for loving"


The incapacitated man muttered and croaked in a broken voice through his delirium.

‘What's your name?

Whose your …….?

Is he……. like me?’

He saw this vision as if from his point of view. He was lying on the blanket.

The girl stopped in her flighty orbit, turned and with a cheeky loving smile jumped on him.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:23 pm

At that point a massive surge, like the bolt of an electric shock rocked his chest and with a gasp of pain and surprise he involuntarily sat up on the bed panting heavily.

Then after a split second he omitted a growling roar of agony as he was assaulted by the wracking pains of cramp which tore through his whole body, making him roll spasmodically off the cot.

‘Argggghhhhhhh!’

His true deep baritone voice came to the fore, flushed out by the hurt he was experiencing as he tried to gain purchase on his confined muscles.

His vision swam the room becoming indistinct; from beyond the haze he heard more faint voices

"He's coming round" they whispered

"He's disorientated" said a distant male voice, barely a whisper "I'm not surprised, a miracle that he's waking up at all"
Health Roll of 9.
Last edited by Adrift in Obscurity on Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:26 pm

The sensation was strange and terrifying, he purged his system but looking at the floor there was no vomit, yet he could smell it and feel it spread around his outstretched hands

This brought on a fresh bout of vomiting and through the terror of disorientation, hallucinations and his pure detachment from reality he imagined that he was bringing up his own blood and entrails. There was nothing to prove his tortured mind that this wasn’t so.

‘Help Me!’ he nigh on gargled through the invisible detritus in his mouth as he clawed feebly at the cot as he tried to rise to his feet.

Darkness suddenly and mercifully descended on him, like a warm comforting blanket into oblivion.
Roll 3d6?
14
He knew that he had been out for a long time, distantly the last words he'd heard before plunging into darkness was "Damn"

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:29 pm

He slowly became aware of a bobbing sensation, eventually realising that he was doing the bobbing, opening his eyes he looked out into the murky blue waters of presumably an ocean.

He was submerged, floating some 3 meters or so below the surface, strangely it didn't concern him that he wasn't drowning, something in the dark recesses of his head told him this was okay.

What wasn't so welcome was the large ominous shape distantly moving from side to side through the murk towards him.

‘Just when I thought I was going to enjoy myself’ he thought as with a detached air he continued to survey the depths and the surroundings of the body of the water he was in.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:30 pm

The knowledge of that threat was there, but it nagged at the back of his mind like a child tapping him on the back, and he felt that it would only be a danger when he allowed himself to truly acknowledge it. A bit like the distinct lack of oxygen he was experiencing. If he didn’t pay it any attention perhaps it would just shrug its shoulders and be on its merry way, and leave him alone.

‘What difference would it make to my predicament anyway?’ He thought. ‘As It’s not like I can hide up a tree to avoid it!’ He smiled sleepily to himself, drifting in the deep like a strange embryo.
How deep is this water, and is it salty?
Please roll 3d6 for Perception skill stat for me mate, I’ll then roll.
Rolled, you can't see the bottom and yes definitely saltwater
‘Ah….’
Perception roll of 7.

What is coming his way?
Is he actually drowning??

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:33 pm

It is important to note that suddenly, and against all probability, a sperm whale had been called into existence, several miles above the surface of an alien planet. And since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity.

This is what it thought, as it fell:

The Whale: Ahhh! Woooh! What's happening? Who am I? Why am I here? What's my purpose in life? What do I mean by who am I? Okay okay, calm down calm down get a grip now. Ooh, this is an interesting sensation. What is it? It’s a sort of tingling in my... well I suppose I better start finding names for things. Let’s call it a... tail! Yeah! Tail! And hey, what's this roaring sound, whooshing past what I'm suddenly gonna call my head? Wind! Is that a good name? It'll do. Yeah, this is really exciting. I'm dizzy with anticipation! Or is it the wind? There's an awful lot of that now isn't it? And what's this thing coming toward me very fast? So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide sounding name like 'Ow', 'Ownge', 'Round', 'Ground'! That's it! Ground! Ha! I wonder if it'll be friends with me? Hello, Ground!

And the rest, after a sudden wet thud, was silence.


Hitch hikers Guide to the Galaxy

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:38 pm

The predator ghosted through the murky green blue plankton rich water into the vicinity of the man, it was obviously curious about the presence of this unusual creature in its abode.

The man recognised that it was a tiger shark by the subtle mottled vertical lines that ran down the fish’s sides. It was approximately nine feet in length, and moved purposefully with a graceful but menacing flick of its tail.

Working out how or why he recognised it was a different matter.

The fish made a slow pass about twenty feet beneath him and moved off into the murk, with three small remora fish in eager but wary pursuit. A weird feeling of vertigo, coupled with a sobering realisation of his location in open ocean overcame the man at last.

Any sense of well being he had experienced was quickly replaced with a deep primal feeling of dread that started in his stomach and rose through his body. His eyes began to sweep and scan the depths, as his relaxed posture broke into one of fearful intensity and awareness.

As his fear had predicted (and if he had knew had help betray), the shark re-entered the man’s limited field of vision behind him. It was about ten feet above him this time. He knew that it was only a matter of time before it would come to investigate fully, and that would mean razor sharp teeth and pain. Unless he could think on how to stop this, his end would be far from pleasant.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 2:41 pm

He recalled his thought about there being nowhere to hide, but this time with fear. Flight was out of the question; instinct dictated that he must and would fight for survival, tooth and nail however high the odds were stacked against him. And they were very high.

The shark with a sudden lash of its tail disappeared from view once more.

The man watched and waited, his senses straining to their maximum.

He slowly rotated himself around to keep his awareness.

Nothing.....

Mentally he found himself oddly detached, the potentially overwhelming feelings of fear and terror niggling at his psyche but for some reason unable to consume the rational part of his mind.

To add to the surreal nature of the situation it also occurred to him that he must be neutrally buoyant, as without any undue effort or motion he remained floating some 3 meters below the surface.

Nothing....

Then a thought occurred, a note of panic threatened to tear through the wall, he looked down and there it was, the shark had travelled down into the depths and was now circling its way up directly below him.
Is he dreaming or hallucinating?
I think you have rolled his willpower stat so:

Willpower roll of 11 to see if he can break out of this ‘imagining’.
(I am completely at a loss of what is happening and what to do here.)

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:53 pm

The ocean grew murky, discoloured with blood which appeared purple submerged, he was aware of being jerked ferociously, joints in his leg popping, flesh, tendons and sinew stripped from bone like pulled pork.
Despite the intensity and sheer agony, his mind was still oddly detached as if a voyeur looking out from his own eyes.

"No, No, No" he snarled through gritted teeth

"Doctor, he's coming back" came a distant female voice, "DOCTOR" the voice screamed in terror

"NO" he roared as the great wedge of a head visibly mangled his lower body
(Roll 3d)
12 Mate

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:54 pm

The ocean distorted, almost warping and bending, a vortex of movement and watery motion flowed into his legs.

His lost blood and tissue flowed back into his legs; the same vortex swallowed the predator sweeping it helplessly down into the crushing depths.

An enormous pressure seized him around his head, shoulders and back, searing pain bore into his temple's, agonising weight seemed to constrict his upper body almost as if it were trying to crush his spine. He gritted his teeth so tightly he felt his wisdom teeth crack.

And then he breathed out.

"Wakey wakey!"

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:55 pm

Opening his eyes he immediately squinted to avoid the spray, a gelatinous clear fluid exploded everywhere, he was drenched a combination of the fluid and sweat.

He stood in a field tent, row upon row of bare metal framed beds surrounded him, each holding a soldier seemingly asleep, each now sodden.

The walls dripped, nurses slid around on the floor, doctors attempted to pull themselves to their feet.

"Welcome back!"

‘What….. the…. hell?!’ the man croaked as he reeled and fell to his knees and doubled up, retching whatever remained of his stomach contents onto the floor of the tent.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:55 pm

His memories remained of the girl, the voices and of the ocean horror but he could not recollect anything else. Eyes watering and rolling, he set to focussing at the mess he had made on the floor, trying to make sense of the mess in his head.

Within the liquid and food debris he had ejected, coupled with the water pooling on the floor which he guessed must have been thrown over him; he was sure that he could still see snapshots of his experiences. He gathered in his fevered mind that these experiences were now in fact a dream or a hallucination. Or were they? Was this just another scenario of his psyche torturing him?

He was battling to gain some purchase on whatever was going on. Who? Where? What? He strained to find any memories of the life he must have lead up to this point.

His mind drew a large blank to this questioning, nothing. He could speak, and seemed to have rational cognitive abilities but that was it. He felt like a transparent leaf blown adrift into an ocean of mirages without any identity or memory.

‘That’s very poetic’ a strange thought exclaimed calmly in the inferno of his mind as he continued to dry retch to the point where his stomach muscles seared with the exertions.

Blood began to spatter from his mouth between his wretched contractions.

‘You must be an artist of some sort!’ the thought continued. ‘Why look! Look at the modern art masterpiece you have produced!’

This as you could imagine, wasn’t helping the man very much.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:56 pm

I guess I must be driving myself insane.
Damn it all! does earth plug a hole in heaven,
Or heaven plug a hole in earth - 'how wonderful to be so profound,
when everything you are is dying underground.'

Anyway
: Genesis : 1974

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:58 pm

Spare a little candle
Save some light for me
Figures up ahead
Moving in the trees
White skin in linen
Perfume on my wrist
And the full moon that hangs over
These dreams in the mist

Darkness on the edge
Shadows where I stand
I search for the time
On a watch with no hands
I want to see you clearly
Come closer than this
But all I remember
Are the dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

Is it cloak n dagger
Could it be spring or fall
I walk without a cut
Through a stained glass wall
Weaker in my eyesight
The candle in my grip
And words that have no form
Are falling from my lips

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

There's something out there
I can't resist
I need to hide away from the pain
There's something out there
I can't resist

The sweetest song is silence
That I've ever heard
Funny how your feet
In dreams never touch the earth
In a wood full of princes
Freedom is a kiss
But the prince hides his face
From dreams in the mist

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away

These dreams go on when I close my eyes
Every second of the night I live another life
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away


These Dreams: Heart: 1986

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 8:59 pm

The room was Persian in image, the large circular turtle green cushioned bed surrounded by billowing chiffon drapes.

He regarded the reclining female form lounging almost cat like across the bed; in return she smiled a mischievous smile and stroked his arm, purring in satisfaction.

He said nothing, and lay with his back against a large cushion, musing upon the situation.

"Are you getting all serious on me" she laughed

He shook his head in amusement "I'm just wondering why"

"Why what" she laughed rolling over, giving him a pleasurable view

"With all you have, wealth, your husband being a successful high ranking officer?"

"Boring, boring, boring" she replied, "With you I have adventure, pleasure and best of all it’s all in our dreams"

Her eyes glinted and the room melted away

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:01 pm

>Mr Benn is an ordinary fellow, living an ordinary life in an ordinary suburban house, at Number 52, Festive Road. One day, Mr Benn receives an invitation to a fancy dress party, and so, donning his bowler hat, he sets off to find a costume to wear. Unable to find a suitable outfit in the usual shops, he turns down a small lane and finds a shop filled with strange and unusual costumes. Inside, Mr Benn asks the fez-wearing shopkeeper if he can try on a suit of red armour; he then enters the changing room, puts on the outfit, and walks through another door... and suddenly finds himself transported back to medieval times. It is the first of many amazing and extraordinary adventures for Mr Benn…<


Through his terrible haze of confusion and hurt he could pick out the blurred shapes of people crowding around him. He was hunched in a foetal ball on a cold damp floor literally coughing his guts up, with sharp stinging pains tearing through his stomach and his throat. Shaking like a leaf he fought to break out of this state of being. He seemed to have done it before he thought, why not again?

‘Damn it Muree, clean up that mess’ a peeved young male voice droned nonchalantly; seemingly unmoved by the mans plight. ‘Orderlies; get him up, cleaned, and operational. Ensure that whatever information he has gained is downloaded before giving him an adrenal flush’

‘I don’t have all day, so move your arses!’ he snapped.

The man felt hands, which gently assisted him from the floor, as the footsteps of the speaker moved away from him.

‘Ready?’ he heard another mans voice near his right ear, obviously talking to an assistant.

‘Ready.’

His arms were lifted, and placed around the back of the necks of his helpers, who straightened and took his weight on. He then felt more hands take the insides of his legs and lift him completely off the floor.

‘Poor sod.’ One of the orderlies muttered.

He felt himself being lowered into some form of stretcher, which was then lifted off the ground which gave him the strange feeling of weightlessness, almost like he was floating. He gave into this sensation gratefully, hoping that he would never wake. Night fell for the man again.

‘Enough of that talk Jevan. You’re to have no pity for the Benns. This is what they were born for.’

‘Still ain’t right though.’ Jevan piped up breathlessly.

‘Shut your fucking mouth and watch you don’t drop ‘im. These things aren’t cheap as you well know!’

‘You’re all heart Talis’. Jevan snarled.
Last edited by Adrift in Obscurity on Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:05 pm

From the utter darkness of his minds eye appeared a tiny pin prick of neon light, which started to grow larger and more substantial as he perceived it.

It wasn’t a light at the end of a tunnel he realised with a flash of recognition and irony.

The neon light was circular in shape, and seemed to spin slowly like a coin in zero gravity which moved with a frightening momentum from an unimaginable distance away, towards him.

This light took on more identity as it closed the distance to his conscious being. He looked around and realised that it gave off no illumination to where he assumed his physical form should be, and as far as he was concerned he was but a pair of disembodied eyes hovering in oblivion.

The man ‘perceived’ it as a barbed rotary blade of a vast size, and he knew that the light it radiated was a physical and perception suppression aura that was designed to overawe and extinguish any significance or hope its given target or subject may have.
It made its final approach with an aggressive pulse, and appeared to stop suddenly before it struck him.

The ‘blade’ of sickening multifaceted light began to turn slowly in a clockwise direction and appeared to shrink to the perceiver, or was he in fact getting larger? Another form of control he acknowledged, as he now perceived the blade as the size of what he would consider a dinner plate would be.

From the void dark centre of it poured a mass of small needles that were connected to the nothingness by thin web like wire. The wires gave off the sinister sound akin to sheet metal being shaken as each needle lanced into individual teeth of the blade as it continued in its turning.

The rumbling, shuddering sound rose in its intensity, and battered against his being.

Through this horrid intense sound, the man seemed to hear or sense a distorted voice which seemed to be shouting from a great distance, which although quiet could be heard perfectly through the tumult.

>Welcome to the Total Perspective Vortex. You are Benn 85426-1. I give you a final moment to savour your new found memories before they are crushed and wiped from your being<

>As you are aware from my suppression matrix, there is no escape from your predicament, because in one minute’s time you will be completely unaware of being in any derived predicament<

>Face your life, your reason to be and. I gift you with the perception of the total perspective of where you fit into the universe.<

>This is what will destroy your current mind and its memories therein<

>Feel free to drop in anytime<

>That is all<


From the centre of the construct came a piercing red beam which drew the ‘man’ into the utter darkness of the vortex.

In an instant, the man’s complete existence was winked out; like an old television being turned off.


Angels on the sideline
Puzzled and amused
Why did Father give these humans free will?
Now they're all confused

Don't these talking monkeys know that Eden has enough to go around?
Plenty in this holy garden, silly monkeys
Where there's one you're bound to divide it right in two

Angels on the sideline
Baffled and confused
Father blessed them all with reason
And this is what they choose?

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey over pieces of the ground
Silly monkeys
Give them thumbs, they forge a blade
And where there's one they're bound to divide it right in two

Monkey killing monkey killing monkey over pieces of the ground
Silly monkeys
Give them thumbs, they make a club to beat their brother down
How they've survived so misguided is a mystery
Repugnant is a creature who would squander the ability
To lift an eye to heaven, conscious of his fleeting time here

Gotta divide it all right in two

Fight till they die over sun, over sky
They fight till they die over sea, over air
They fight till they die over blood, over love
They fight till they die over words, polarizing

Angels on the sideline again
Benched along with patience and reason
Angels on the sideline again
Wondering where this tug of war will end

Gotta divide it all right in two


Right in Two: Tool: 10,000 Days : 2006
Last edited by Adrift in Obscurity on Mon Feb 09, 2015 9:48 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:10 pm

"So you remember nothing?" the officer sat across a small square field table, chiselled jaw, round spectacles and hair immaculately brylcreemed, the khaki of his starched shirt and trousers blending with the greenish light of the cell/office in which they sat.

In reply he merely shook his head, although in truth flashes of needles entering his flesh and the vortex plagued his thoughts and made his teeth ache. The lieutenant nodded severely and added further notes to his report.

He had already noted the one way glass on the right wall, his mind felt like chopped salad a heavy fogginess that made it difficult to concentrate as if perpetually hung over or afflicted with flu, he shook his head to another monotone question and as the stoic officer returned to his clipboard he slipped into semi-wakefulness his boundary extending into the next room.

For an Optima Benn this was a simple trick, to cheat and extend his soft talents within the World, everybody dreamt even while awake, they just didn't realise it was merely a process of him listening in.

"He really can't recall anything?" the harsh accusing voice of MACSOK Colonel McCarmick
"No, critical trauma induces complete mental erasure" replied the husky voice of Doctor Lydia Carrick
"Goddam it, what is the fucking point of this, I've got GIs knee deep in blood and shit and were pussying around with a monkey who can't remember jack!"

He sensed Carrick smirk "Colonel this is the best soldier you've got"

"The hell he is, he's no better than the dogs and monkeys we're sendin into space"

"This tells me, that you have no idea the war the Benns are fighting"

"Careful Doc, Pentagon still funds your pretty ass"

"True but you don't write the cheques colonel, tell me do you know what it feels like to die!"

"What" the CO spat

"This Ben is an Optima; our truest breed so far, his mental defences are 100 times more developed than yours, we sent him into our most major conflict yet and he died"

"He's sat right there doc" railed McCarmick in frustration

"He died on the other side Colonel, you and I would be really dead, previous Benns put down, he's just lost his memory so all things considered he's doing pretty well!"

'This is the shit you get for letting Nazis's loose with fucking Roswell ' he heard the Colonel think.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:11 pm

Was he damned forever with this confusion, with more illusion? He thought as he peered at the lieutenant across the table with the beginning of a sneer sliding across his face. There was only so much anyone could take without snapping, and although he was still completely in control of his faculties a nagging sense inside him informed him that a venting of his recent experiences was required. He acknowledged this fact, and was then made aware of the valve he would need to ‘turn’.

‘I’ve got a question for you Lieutenant’. A gentle deep baritone devoid of any set accent escaped his lips. Mastering his own surprise of his apparent ‘own’ voice he continued without waiting for an acknowledgement.

A pulsing charge suddenly raced through his system, exhilarating and fearsome at the same time. He felt the hairs on his back rise with the anticipation of power.

Suddenly with a blinding speed that surprised even him he stood and stepped to the right of the chair he was sitting on, grabbed it by the arm rest and flung it at the one way glass.

‘THIS MONKEY WANTS TO KNOW WHAT FUCKING YEAR IT IS COLONEL!’

He charged at the glass with the chair still in full flight, teeth bared with a terrible expression on his face, with the spittle frothing at the corners of his mouth. For an instant he saw his own image in the mirror, before the armour plated safety glass fragmented with the impact of the chair, all he could now see were thousands of grey eyes, bloodshot and raging. They were his eyes staring and accusing, lost and doomed.

‘Let’s break the boundaries of this ‘reality’!!’ he sneered as he rolled his head around his shoulders and spat.

His right fist impacted full force with the glass.

The thousand eyes took a red hue as his blurring fists relentlessly began to beat on the glass tearing his hands to bloody shreds, like a boxer on a punch bag.

‘Knock knock!!’ he growled as the blood began to splash over his face and clothes, the Benn did not let up on its assault.

Reality was tumbling down.

And he was the master of it.

Or so it thought…..

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:12 pm

His memory flickered through unconsciousness, Military Policemen barrelling into the cell, he launched into them displaying monstrous strength fed by rage as he battered them, more and more filed in hammering away with truncheons until although his wrath not anywhere near expended his body relented and forced night claimed him.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Fri Jan 09, 2015 9:13 pm

A moment later and the pain had gone, he stood in the grounds of Angkor Wat, an attractive blond woman in her late thirties stood admiring the terraced walls of the ancient place, his rage had subsided, he was in a place familiar and far more home to him.
He looked her up and down from her shoulder length curled blond hair, glasses, white blouse slightly open at the front and black Jodhpurs, he smiled in appreciation "Doctor Carrick or should I call you Lydia?"

The woman turned towards him and gave him a tight lipped smile
"How are you here doctor?" he challenged, primal angry feelings still swam throughout his system

"You’re not the only ones who can enter the sphere, I'm a Lucid Dreamer"

His eyebrow arched

"Although not as potent as you"

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

‘Are you coming onto me? Is that why you’re here?’ he asked as he slowly turned away and stared out at the large body of water that was inundated with flowering lilies that moved softly with the humid breeze. It appeared to be near dusk with the final rays of light creating a pink hue to the water, the loud whistling and chirping of million crickets and other such insects seemed to rise and fall with the wind, like the crashing of waves on a beach. ‘Certainly chose a nice place for it…’ he added as he knocked his fist against the solid and ancient stone of the Cambodian temple. As expected, his hands showed no sign of any trauma sustained previously, this was evidence enough to know that he was ‘elsewhere’.

‘You certainly seem to like your ‘monkeys’, you must derive some pleasure out of them I would think’.

‘Are you being monitored ‘Doctor’?’ he asked quietly. ‘Would help arrive if I made your lucid dream a fucking nightmare?’ he turned his head towards her with a glint in his appraising eyes and a less than encouraging smile.

‘Or is that what you really want?’

He turned around and slowly moved towards her.

‘What year is it Doctor?’ he asked conversationally as he stared at his open hand, then he twisted his wrist to look at his knuckles again.

‘Who am I?’ he continued in his advance, now looking around at the lamp lit masonry of the veranda, as if searching for something.

‘What is my purpose?’ his eyes locked on her, drinking in the sight of the flesh before him.

‘Tick tock, Doc……’

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:14 am

A cloud of cherry blossom filled the air, obscuring the doctor; he could exert his will and disrupt or destroy it however he waited.
As the whirling petals dispersed he noted that she now stood upon an ancient dais some distance away, yet her voice carried to him.

"No Ben, may I call you Ben? I'm not monitored, this is your place and it is difficult for even the most proficient of Sandmen to follow you, only because I have studied your mind can I navigate the currents.

Your name is Ben Victorson, born 1st April 1913, in the World the year is 1963 and Ben unlike the Man I don't think you’re a monkey, I think the Optima’s like yourself are our best hope!"

The man paused and choked back on his rage fuelled destructive lust; and laughed again.

‘Ben?’ he shook his head and laughed without a trace of humour as he brushed away the petals off his shoulders. With that action he noticed now that he was wearing a fresh pressed pastel blue shirt, with sharp creases running down the arms of it. The shirt sleeves were neatly rolled up to the elbow.

Almost playfully, he kicked up a pile of the petals that had come to rest on the ground. He was wearing a pair of grey trouser jeans and brown shoes which were buffed to a high shine.

He once again advanced slowly towards the doctor, discarding his viscous mood in the same way he had brushed away the blossom.

‘It’s just a name and some dates Doctor, makes no difference what you call me, or what you say.’ He said bluntly.

“May as well play along with this delusion for now’ he thought.

‘As you are well aware, I have no memory of anything about who I am, what I have done or have been.’ His sharp eyes locked onto hers. ‘You can fill this empty vessel full of whatever information you like and naturally I will lap it up like a thirsty zebra at a watering hole during the dry season in the Sahara.’

The man paused in his stride as he had a mental double take. ‘Where had that come from?’ he thought.

He rallied quickly, smoothing over the perceived weakness, with logic. ‘Except I have the knowledge of an existence, and not the experience of existence’ he blurted this apparent epiphany as he final stood before her, ensuring that his body language was completely neutral.

‘Oh that’s good!’ he congratulated himself.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:16 am

‘You see ‘Lydia’’ he rolled her name around his tongue. ‘How can I be anybody’s hope, when I have no hope for myself?’ he asked quietly, trying a different tack by playing the pity card. ‘She obviously has a thing for me’ he thought..

‘All is pretty dark from where I’m standing. As I’m sure you’ll understand.’

I will try and eavesdrop into her thoughts, as I did in the interview house. It appeared that I could do that there, can I do it now or was it just another illusion?
A roll of 10.

Also can you roll me a skill for acting/bluffing? Then I’ll roll the dice?
A harder look settled across her face "A little melodramatic Ben, still considering your previous life or existence as you call it little wonder, boys of sixteen are dying in the jungle Ben and we're here wallowing in self pity"

She seemed to sense him stiffen "You may not like the moniker of monkey, however you are a possession of the US military, not a person, your existence depends upon your performance, you recently suffered psycho sub-cerebral death when we sent you into the vortex, death on the other side for most means death in the World, fortunately your mind is made of tougher stuff and you merely suffered memory loss"

"However I need you back on track, we've got older Alpha Bens and unprotected GIs being murdered on the other side, this is serious shit Ben, fan hitting shit and I need you operational by 05.00"

‘Really, Doctor?’ He sneered as once again he found himself strangely shifting his demeanour to cold logic, tinged with a genuine fear and loss.

He stared into her eyes ‘Have you ever lost your memory?’ Turning his back on her he surveyed the scene of the lilies once more.

‘What I was before now is an enigma to me. So I advise you not to critique my previous ‘existence’’

‘Why haven’t you just plugged me back into whatever I came from and let me crack on with the purpose I was ‘made’ for? Why this ‘pep’ talk?’

‘People are dying? Why the fuck should I give a damn?’ he swung his head around at her.

‘Born in 1913? Sounds like I was hatched from your data thus far……..’

‘This empty shell requires data. Data to cope, data to function, and data to execute; is that what you want to hear?’ he bellowed with a staccato bark as he suddenly charged on her with his fury blazing once more.

<Now get the fuck out of my mind!>
Willpower roll of 10 I Attempt to eject her from probing my thoughts.

Dexterity Roll of 15, Intelligence Roll of 17 / Attempt to grab her.
‘This can’t be happening! This is purgatory!’

‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this!’ ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! ‘Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this! Remember this!’………………………………..
Last edited by Adrift in Obscurity on Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:22 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:18 am

"Shit" swore CIA agent Franshaw, concentrating he felt like he'd just slammed his head into a block wall.

He sensed Professor Carrick’s mind signs grow agitated then weak, he threw his own psyche over hers like a blanket, his discipline as with all of the psych spooks visualising it as grains of sand flowing.

The profs vitals jumped and she took a deep breath, as she had been holding it for a long time, he sensed her settle into REM sleep, as he wiped the torrent of blood from his chin and contemplated the pool at his feet, Christ his head hurt.
***

The canvas command tents shook with yet another of Nams tropical downpours, the briefing room was thick with cigarette smoke, MACSOK Colonel McCarmick sat at the head, grimly surveying the Spooks, Intel army commanders, they’d reviewed the currently status of combat operations now they moved onto the esoteric conflicts.

McCarmick laid his hand firmly upon the Chakra crystal on the portable table before him and eyed the freaks suspiciously, god he hated these fuckers.
Field Operations CIA Chief Holister cleared his throat and took a drink of water “Coinciding with the NVA’s Southern push in Hue Province, we seen a second Vortex open, so far in the past fortnight we’ve had 30 near fatal cerebral haemorrhages specifically targeted at command staff and Intel, 7 fatalities”

The Colonel grimaced “So we’re clear, our boys died in their sleep”

“That’s correct”

“So what the fuck are your Sandmen doing about it?”

“Colonel I haven’t got enough fucking Sandmen to babysit the entire 8th Army” Holister replied sarcastically “Not with the Home Front”
McCarmick’s attention had already turned to Professor Carrick’s assistant head, Professor Ackland

“We’ve got three Omega and one Optima Bens ready to go in” he replied smarmily

“The Optima being the psycho?” he growled

“Yes sir, however contrary to Professor Carricks concerns as to his mental state, I think his aggression and rage will be extremely valuable sir”

McCarmick smiled a feral smile he liked this arse kisser, none of this bleeding heart shit

“Send them in, Holister I don’t give two shits about your shortages get more, I’m not telling Westmorton that we’ve lost the entire offensive because these fuckers are killing our boys in their sleep!!”

He stood abruptly daring any further comment and marched from the room.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:20 am

If he had a retreat, a home or somewhere where he would go, what and where would it be and what would it look like?
Well, I’m still not really sure where his is/was/will be from to be quite honest, but I would have thought that he may have some form of large log/stone bungalow with a river running out the back. He would have a few acres of both orchard and pastures and have stables and a very large vegetable garden. There would be a makeshift drawbridge across the river which could be lifted up on the house side. He would keep geese and chickens. He would have a large wooden pagoda by the river and a rowing boat.
Does that help?

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 10:23 am

The scenery of the temple blurred and took upon the aspect of being seen through the oily membrane of a soap bubble. Lydia was suddenly enveloped within her own bubble that despite her now impotent shouts and cries drifted back toward the bubble wall, slowly squeezed through and dropped out of existence.

Satisfied he had expelled this current annoyance he could sense her within the flow, now drifting upon the dreamscape.

He turned and walked into a large Buddhist statue emerging before a large log cottage, the roof clad in mossy slate and its north wall constructed from stone supporting its robust chimney.
A river ran to the rear of the cottage at the bottom of a small slope, a slightly rickety wharf extended out mooring two row boats.

It sat within a few acres of pasture, bordered by orchards; a stable sitting to the back of the pasture enjoying the cover of the apple trees, nearer the house was an expansive vegetable garden.
He drew in the fresh air, the smell of earth and manure and the honks and warbled clucks and clicks of his geese and hens.

‘Peace at last’ he uttered aloud as without a pause he slowly walked up the long meandering cobblestone pathway to the front door. The pathway was edged with rockeries of shrubs and roses of all colours whose smell drifted on the breeze enveloping him in the ghosts of familiar memories that nagged him, tantalisingly prompting him with strange rumours that he could not truly perceive.

How long would this last?

But for now, he thought in this brief moment maybe; he would be left to at least come to terms with whatever was going on, or more importantly who he was.

Looking down he saw he was now wearing a pair of khaki long work mans shorts with a pair of sturdy hiking boots that were very travel worn. A mud stained white flannel tee shirt was slung over his right shoulder and cooling sweat was dripping from his forehead and chest. His hands were caked with the fragrant living earth, the particles of which seemed to almost shimmer in this pleasant bright, hot day.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:20 am

He drank in the scene around him; every step he took was slow and measured. Almost as if he was treading on egg shells on a narrow mountain trail, as if the slightest heavy tread on the path would shatter this idyllic moment and send him screaming back to ‘purgatory’.

He finally reached and stopped at the front door, hesitated for a moment, considering whether to knock on the well made oak to announce his presence. Another part of his memory made the decision for him as he firmly grasped the handle and opened it.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:21 am

Slowly turning the doorknob he entered, his memory hazy. He was met with befuddlement by a young woman in her early twenties who greeted him from across the farmhouse table "Hello pops" she said looking up from her painting

Another memory trigger engaged as it assessed this new situation. Rather than a defensive countermeasure it consolidated his position and produced a suitable passive countermeasure for him. As he had surveyed the building, the surrounding area, and his attire he had mentally filled in the gaps with probability and fact and came to the following conclusions.

‘Hi honey.’ He said softly as he knelt down on the porch and took his muddy boots off.

He made his way over to the wash basin in the kitchen and began to scrub his hands clean.

‘The carrots are coming along nicely, and we should have a good crop of rhubarb this year’ he said nonchalantly as he surveyed the room in a slow, measured and relaxed state. ‘I don’t know about the potatoes though, they could be blighted’.

His eyes and his mind however were absorbing information at a frightening rate. The letters on the table, the calendar on the wall, the photos, the dog hair on the carpet, the smell of perfume, the layout of the room, the engagement ring on Sarah’s hand, the little scar on her nose she had from when she fell from the barn window when she was five. Data, data, data, data, data… filling him up like a bag on a vacuum cleaner, but rather than bursting the bag the Benn assimilated the information and built on its implications.

‘How’s it coming along?’ he asked as he dried his hands and walked over to look at her handy work.

The picture was of a dusk seascape; a rocky cove with looming cliffs where a couple were sitting together on the hull of a rowing boat further up a shingle beach. Towels and other beach paraphernalia were arrayed on the ground before them, with a small glowing wood fire that gave out a faint wisp of smoke, mostly obscured by the approaching evening. They were looking over at another smaller figure that stood knee deep in the calm rippling water; who was staring out to a hazy horizon where the suns rays were failing into deep oranges and reds, setting off a nacreous effect to the closely packed clouds that were reflected in the sea.

Sarah turned to him awaiting his response with a far away look in her grey eyes. She looked so much like her mother, Miranda he thought, who they had lost to cancer when Sarah was only six.

Ben kissed her forehead, lost in more emerging memories.

‘It’s really good’ he said lamely with a wistful smile.

This seemed to satisfy her, and she turned back to the painting and picked up the brush.

‘Its strange how I can seem to remember this holiday we had. What was I? Four?

‘You were five.’ He answered. ‘It sometimes happens like that. You can remember snap shots of the distant past, even though there seems no reasoning or connections behind it.’ He explained.

‘Tell me more about that day.’ She asked; her posture still, pausing with a brush stroke. Sarah had been leading the question.

She turned and found that her Dad had left the room.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:21 am

Data, data, data.

He swiftly walked through the passage way and climbed the stairs. He was bombarded with images of their wedding; Sarah being born, her first words and steps, and Miranda’s last words at her death bed. The memories kept on coming mercilessly, with all the objects and rooms in the house.

And behind it all, he had the deep seated certainty, that these were not his memories at all but fabrications.

In this deep introspection, where new memories of joys were ultimately followed by frustration, grief and loss; he finally realised he was sat on a small three legged stool in what was/is his bedroom.

He raised his hands to his face and to his surprise slowly brushed away tears. With a puzzled fascination he turned his hand to look at the water as it fell to the floor and was absorbed into his skin. Finally, he dragged his hands from his eyes, shook them disdainfully and looked around.

The room was airy with folding sliding window doors that led out onto a large wood tiled balcony with a table and two chairs that overlooked part of the orchard. He also noted the ashtray on the table, and plant pots which held light pink roses. The large double bed was old but serviceable, and was made up with a frilly beige cover, pillowslips and quilt. The walls were decorated in a cream wallpaper with swirling light purple pastel floral patterns, of which was now starting to curl in places. There was a large walk in wardrobe which Miranda had loved; but he refrained for now from going in to look more closely. The carpet was a light blue shag pile affair which had seen better days. Family and art pictures were hung on the walls, where his wife had placed them.

‘Are you ok Dad?’ Sarah’s concerned voice drifted up the stairs.

‘I’m fine. I’ll be down in a mo’. He called down in a calm measured tone completely belying his shattered emotions to the girl. ‘I just need a shower first’.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:22 am

Assistant Research Head Ackland looked down at the restrained prone form strapped to a field bed.

"How is he?" he enquired

The Medic looked up from his charts "Stable, in deep sleep, although oddly his brain waves indicate REM activity"

"Not so odd for this one" replied Ackland, who's eyes inspected the man like a specimen, which indeed he was, the scientist looked over at the severe looking younger man stood across the room from the MP guard and prisoner, the man was gaunt, angular featured with curious growths running along the curvature of his jaw, Ackland raised an eyebrow

The man dressed in smart trousers and shirt, although unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, winced his eyes rolling and then grimaced in pain again "His minds like a wall, surface impressions, some rural scenery difficult to pick any detail" he man reported in a laboured tone

"How sweet, lets apply some stimulus" Ackland opened a small case on an adjacent surgical trolley, producing a large steel syringe, holding up a vial of drugs he drew several hundred CCs, tapped a vein he injected the subject.

The Assistant Research Head leant down, his mouth close to the specimens ear "I would say happy trails, however they won't be!"

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:23 am

The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,
and darker days are drawing near,
the winter winds will be much colder,
now you're not here.
I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky
and one by one they disappear
I wish that I was flying with them,
now you're not here

like the sun through the trees you came to love me
like a leaf on a breeze you blew away

through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way
you always loved this time of year
loose fallen leaves lie undisturbed now
cos you're not here

like the sun through the trees you came to love me
like a leaf on a breeze you blew away

a gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes
as if to hide a lonely tear
my life will be forever autumn
cos you're not here

Justin Hayward : Forever Autumn 1978

He stood, and went to the balcony sliding glass door and opened it. Stepping outside he closed his eyes and sucked in a huge lung full of the sweet summer air and stretched. He looked out at the orchard. The birds called and chirped cheerfully as the soft breeze buffeted his hair. Mastering his feelings as no ‘human’ could he reconciled his position and leaned against the railing, deep in thought. Peering at the ashtray, a sudden latent craving for a cigarette suddenly overcame him. He cracked a wry smile, and continued his surveying of his land.


Then he felt it; a powerful feeling as if he had been immersed in freezing cold water. He physically swayed, gripping the rail tightly to prevent himself from falling; as from the corner of his vision he noticed the potted pink roses swiftly curl up, wither and die; their petals forlornly falling to the ground. Nausea assailed him, a familiar feeling he noted.

Compensating for his moment of vulnerability he recovered his faculties and stared out at the scene unfolding. A sudden howling wind had formed and tore through the orchard creating a wavelike effect through the trees that threw branches, fruit and other debris at a ferocious rate towards the house. Quickly he dashed into the bedroom and closed the door as the detritus struck the glass, cracking but not breaking it.

Then with a sudden unearthly groan, the floor disappeared from beneath him and gravity sent him with it. Bricks, wood and mortar fell around him, and struck his body as he fell.

It was a sensation not dissimilar to falling heavily into arctic waters, not only the searing frigidity of sub zero emersion but the collision within jagged pieces of solid ice.

The lake, house and sanctuary ran like melting wax, as he fell he clenched his teeth and at times closing his eyes, he plummeted into the mouth of the abyss.

Triad : Lateralus : Tool 2001

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:31 am

The man wasn’t sure if he was moving at all, or if it was just the illusion of movement. He tried to penetrate the vortex that surrounded him with no success. He tried to control his ‘movement’ to no avail. He continued to plunge through an endless night, as he tried to hold onto the brief good, precious moments he had recently experienced to no avail. The memories slipped through his metaphysical fingers to dissolve into the nothingness; purged from his soul and ejected into the night.

As if in tune with his attempts at resistance a strange metallic rumbling began around him, which grew in intensity and volume as he fought his imprisonment. The sound stung him to the core of his being, triggering some primal knowledge that he knew, but was forever beyond his comprehension.

Suddenly he received a huge bolt of pain, which was not dissimilar to receiving a large electric shock his analytical mind coldly considered as he physically screamed without a sound escaping his lips.

His whole body shook spasmodically, forcing him to arch his back as he clawed the air above his head.

>Stand by for tasking Benn 85426-1…………………<

>OPERATION CEDAR FALLS <
>LOCATION……………………………….CU CHI…VIETNAM…1967…..<
>TASKING……………….SEARCH AND DESTROY<
>TASKING………………..DISRUPT SUPPLY CHAIN<
>TASKING………………..WADE IN THE GORE OF YOUR ENEMIES…….<

>Stand by for data download……..<
>Pity is for the weak, as is Love….<

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:32 am

All at once, the darkness dissipated and the semblance of colour and life began to fill his eyes once more as he suddenly struck ‘wherever’ with significant force.

His legs folded underneath him as the impact took his breath away. His hearing (if he had ever in fact lost it) seemed to return and was greeted to the sudden roar and hubbub of many voices around him that assailed his senses, as did the remnants of a dinner table he had obviously hit and a strange rain of gaily coloured party streamers and silvery paper, coupled with smoke that fell and whirled around him as if in slow motion.

The strong smell of alcohol and tobacco hit him like a sledgehammer as he reeled and staggered to his feet, his head lolling onto his chest as he waded through the pile of broken crystal glasses and plates of food.. Through the smoky haze he noticed he was wearing what appeared to be an expensive pair of black shoes which now stood on a varnished and shiny oak floor.

The voices became more distinct, powerful and meaningful. And rose like a tempest around him.

‘Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.


And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!
and surely I’ll buy mine!
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

‘HAPPY NEW YEAR!’


With this announcement, the voices grew to a crescendo, accompanied by the blowing of whistles and the striking up of what sounded like a brass band. With this, the man stood bolt upright as if he had just been rudely awoken from a deep sleep.

His feelings and perceptions of slow motion suddenly ceased.

‘Fucking Hell... .’ He slowly exclaimed to himself, as he brushed away pieces of masonry and rose petal off the shoulder pads of his well made dark blue suit he was wearing; as with a look of deep consternation he took in the scene.

It was seemingly the deck of a large sailing ship at night time. A huge mainmast that spanned at least one hundred feet high greeted his eyes; on it hung garlands of flowers, evergreen branches, tinsel and Christmas decorations. A large section of sail cloth stated in gaily written letters:

The ships staff and CREW of SS Broomwell wish all our passengers a Happy New Year! Farewell to 2181!


He shook his head and then suddenly noticed the throng of humanity that was around him in various states of revelry. There were hundreds of people it seemed. Dancing, laughing, cheering, kissing hugging and the inevitable emotion that comes from seeing another year out. The clattering and bouncing of the deck from the multitude shook the tables that were stacked high with food and drinks which added to his overall disorientation.

They were dressed in their best party dresses and suits, the style archaic but tinged with strange modernity. The ladies wore flowing colourful dresses, whilst the men folk wore prim dinner suits. As he looked he realised that the fabrics of the clothes slowly changed colour of their own volition like fibre optics that set the night afire with fairy lights, and reflected off the women’s made up faces and the men’s heavy set beards and moustaches

They were all wearing hats and bonnets of various shapes and sizes rimmed with Christmas lights that moved and swayed with the music that the fifty piece brass band played. The band was arrayed in a three tiered semi circular pattern either side of the main mast which acted as the main stage.

Fighting nausea, he struggled through the masses to get to the ships side. Finally, after pushing his way through the preoccupied mob he grasped the gunwale of the starboard side and emptied his stomach.

It was only then he realised that he must be suffering the effects of drunkenness as the strong smell of beer hit his nostrils as he retched.

Coughing and spluttering he opened his eyes, and took a huge gasp of breath.

There was no sea. It also was not night time as he knew it. This ship sailed with the stars! He staggered back and took in the whole panorama of the ‘Broomwell’ and what it was, and was promptly sick again; inconveniently over his own shoes and the deck this time.

Figuratively and literally, a whole world sat off the ships port quarter, albeit obviously many thousands of miles away; but a whole new world nonetheless.

How was this possible he thought with amazement? The man hoped reasoning would come soon, like a comforting blanket.

‘Ernest Emerson me old stoat; there you are you bounder!’ a loud but friendly voice shouted in his direction. ‘You never could take your ale!’ footsteps approached behind him and a hand gently rested on his shoulder to steady him.

‘Happy New Year!’ the voice announced in amusement.
Last edited by Adrift in Obscurity on Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:36 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:34 am

The American Dreamscape – 1963

The dreamscape of the capitol fluctuated, its land stable its sky a shifting mix of oils and fire, as watching the image of flickering flames upon glass.
Sako stood motionless upon the pinnacle of The Washington Monument, watching the hurtling forms of supercharged emerged dreamers as they uncontrollably rocketed through Morpheus’s sky and released pulses of pure karma shaping the scape in destructive ways.
He sensed the presences float towards him, a different dreamsphere not one of these interlopers.
“Senator” said one of them respectfully
“Owen San” he replied curtly
The visitors black suit shifted becoming a flowing robe similar to his own, slicked back hair framing a craggy face, an experienced projector who felt no need to reshape his other self.
Behind him floated a thin figure dressed in the green utilitarian garb of the US military, Sako frowned he’d seen too much of that dress in the worst possible circumstances.
For a short while the trio watched the hovoc before them
“The true price of your alchemy” he said coldly
The robed American winced slightly “The world of war is full of necessary evils” he replied finally, his eyes didn’t leave two superhuman flowerchildren tearing each other limb from limb
Sako smiled without humour “An American trait to blame arrogance on necessity”
The soldier inhaled sharply “Mr Masey, we told you this was a waste of time!”
Masey closed his eyes and the scape shifted ejecting the soldier from itself like a spider disappearing down a plughole.
“Your shaping has improved” commented Sako
“We need your help” replied Owen
“Why would I help the US warmachine after Osaka, Hiroshima and Nagasaki”
“Because if we fall the Soviets and Chinese will target Japan”
Sako frowned “Owen the best you can do is bluff, what is it you require?”
“One of our top Morpheus boffins has been trapped in the scape, we need someone of your capability to free her!”
“I am puzzled none of your people have the gift”
“None that I trust, this will take a considerably degree of power and skill, all of ours have one or the other”
“What is she trapped by?”
“A BEN”
“One of your bred forms”
“Yes” replied Owen his voice hesitantly
For the first time Sako turned to look at his former student “Owen?”
“He is very powerful”
“In what sense?”
“Shaping and channelling”
“Not just any old bred form then”
“No”
“A hybrid then”
Owen looked uncomfortable “Something more”
Sako waited quietly
“He’s a chimera”
“And if he is of considerable power drawn from bloodlines, which ones?”
Owen breathed out “Roosevelt, Cayce, Podmore and a host”
“A Frankenstein” replied Sako returning his attention to the mayhem
“Yes very much so”
“Very well Owen I do this out of loyalty to you, where is your boffin?”

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:37 am

Wiping the bile from his mouth led to the discovery that he wore a close cropped wiry beard in which he could feel that some of the vomit still clung to. Playing to the fact this currently unknown man though him completely drunk, he turned slowly; squinting in the general direction of the voice.

In fact, any effects that the alcohol had held on him had been purged from his system, and once again he was putting the feelers out; fishing for information to assimilate to gain an advantage, if it was indeed necessary.

‘Whosat?’ he barked in what he considered to be an English West Country accent ‘Don’t come any nearer y’hear?’ he warned as he staggered forward away from the hand, and turned. He pathetically assumed a Marques de Queensbury boxing stance as he swayed from side to side.

He noted to himself with a small touch of surprise the fighting style he had naturally assumed; archaic.

‘Identifi Yersel!’ he called. ‘I’m not jokin’ he warned with a leer and a shake of the head as he attempted to wipe the mess from his beard with his right knuckle as his left fist shook threateningly albeit loosely at the voice.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:38 am

Within his head the clamour of thoughts and dreams ruminated, most of those here where pigments a few however latent dreamers.

However he knew he was here for a purpose, which meant he had to find the true dreamer here for there had to be one for him to travel here, however it appeared they appreciated their privacy.

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Re: The Eternal Journey of 'Mr Benn'

Post by Adrift in Obscurity » Sat Jan 10, 2015 11:38 am

‘Ernest’. The well spoken voice hissed in an irritated angry tone, obviously not trying to rouse any more unwanted attention or notice. ‘I’m not playing this bloody game with you again.’ The man appeared in his self induced squinted field of vision. It was a tall man in an expensive grey suit with an elegant matching overcoat; he sported a huge curled moustache and a black top hat. A pair of small pinch spectacles balanced precariously on the end of his long thin nose that accentuated his brown eyes. ‘You’re a fine investigator, but an awful lush’ the man exclaimed.

The man turned his head, ‘Hollander, can you please assist Mr Emerson back to his quarters. He has had a turn which was obviously brought on by the quail at dinner.’ His seeming cold address to his bat man was warmed with a subtle grin and a wink.

‘Yes Mr Lake.’ Hollander gave a nod and came forward to assist. He was a very stocky, short man who wore a black suit with a matching bowler hat. He had a ruddy chiselled complexion and from his demeanour the Benn reckoned that he was an ex military man. The man's heavy hobnailed boots clumped their way to him.

‘Give me your arm Mr Emerson Sir, and let us get you abed, and I’ll sort you out a posset.’ Hollander said kindly. The Benn noticed that the man didn’t seem to have a single hair on his head, save for two bushy ginger eyebrows.

The Benn allowed himself to be guided to his cabin.

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