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05-17-2017, 07:16 AM | #1 (permalink) |
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Turbo: A Love Story
After getting fucked up on swedish meatballs and listening to Turbo by Judas Priest like ten times in a row, I decided to start writing a story to go along with the album. Yeah, I know, it was a really weird day. I also decided that it would be a good idea to write a romance, since I've never written about that sort of thing before, and also that I should write a story with no direct dialogue, since I rely too much on it, and it kinda bogs my stories down. So not only is this gonna be a story about Turbo, it's gonna be an experimental story about Turbo. I can already tell that this is gonna turn out perfectly. Anyway, let's do this shit.
Turbo: A Love Story Prologue The soldier squinted as he looked up at the swelling sun, smiling as the warm and comforting light reflected off of the visor of his helmet. His mind wandered away from his work, as he entertained thoughts of taking his family to the park later in the day. A cool breeze rushed by, kissing his un-gloved fingers, and his smile widened. However, a nearby scream brought him back to reality. His work was still unfinished. Regaining his composure, he picked up a box filled with vinyl records, and carried it to a military transport vehicle. As he slid it in the back alongside dozens of similar boxes, yet another scream broke through the air. The soldier glanced over at the building, and the people lined up outside of it. The pirates were becoming violent, pushing the soldiers away and shouting obscenities. One of the pirates was lying motionless on the ground, a small pool of blood forming under his head. Most likely, he had been clubbed on the back of the head after trying to escape. The soldier looked away. He had always found it to be a shame when people had to die over such foolish matters. Chapter One The sun gave out a deep red light as it rose above the city. Two figures, a man and a woman, watched it intently as they leaned against a concrete wall. Both were wearing black leather jackets, and red motorcycle helmets. The man’s jacket was covered in studs, as well as band patches spanning a variety of genres. The woman had rolled the sleeves of her jacket up, and she adjusted them as she looked towards the sky, her bright red nails shining like neon diamonds. The man turned away from the sun, looking at the woman’s face through the tinted visor of her helmet. She looked back at him, as his eyes told her that it was time to go. Though he couldn’t see it, she shot him a smile.
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05-17-2017, 08:11 PM | #2 (permalink) | ||
midnite roles around
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YW Fam: All MB Music Projects Under One Roof Emo/Pop Punk Journal Techno Journal Quote:
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05-17-2017, 11:15 PM | #3 (permalink) |
SOPHIE FOREVER
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Well now you have to turn it into a Turbo (2013) erotic fanfiction. I recommend going for the slow burn.
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05-18-2017, 05:34 AM | #4 (permalink) |
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Thanks for the encouragement, you guys. Shitposting in someone's journal is like second base here on MB.
Chapter Two On a hot summer night, the two motorcyclists stepped into a dive bar hidden in the abandoned section of the city, breathing in the atmosphere as loud Heavy Metal played through the illegal sound system. It was a wild and chaotic place filled with mirrors and red neon lights, where the dregs of society traded music freely. In the corner, a crowd of people were packing themselves around a table, intently watching a high-stakes bout of arm wrestling while shouting obscenities, as well as the odd word of encouragement. At the bar, an assortment of misfits were throwing beer bottles while hollering at the television as it broadcasted the end of a heated boxing match. The motorcyclists took off their helmets, setting them aside near the doorway, and fell in with the crowd. Taken by the energy of the song playing, the two of them couldn’t resist the urge to dance. After indulging in the infectious rhythm for a moment, the man forced his way past the crowd to procure drinks for the two of them. Naturally, the bar’s drinks were legendarily terrible, but they often served their purpose well enough.
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05-19-2017, 06:42 AM | #5 (permalink) |
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Chapter Three The pirates raced down the highway with inhuman speed, withdrawing their weapons as they gained on the transport vehicles. Looking in their mirrors, the IME soldiers scanned the coming pack of neon warriors, and prepared for battle. In a flash, hatches on top of all of the transport vehicles opened, as laser turrets pushed their way out and unfolded. Soldiers climbed out of the hatches as well, mounting the turrets and opening fire. The pirates swerved to avoid their shots, while returning fire. As the transport convoy entered a tunnel, one of the turret gunners aimed his fire at the motorcyclists, forcing them to split up. The man moved right, firing at the gunner, while the woman swerved to the left, between the concrete pillars holding up the tunnel, directly into oncoming traffic.
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05-20-2017, 09:47 AM | #6 (permalink) |
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Chapter Four On a hill outside of the city limits, the moon cast a pale light down on the detention compound as sentries walked around the perimeter, ever attentive. All at once, the silence was broken by a series of explosions, blasting holes through various sections of the wall around the compound. Pressing the advantage of surprise, the pirates quickly poured in, firing on the sentries as they scrambled for cover. Within moments, the alarm began to cut through the sounds of screams and gunfire, and a massive surge of IME soldiers appeared out of the various buildings scattered across the compound. High up in the watchtowers, turret gunners began to fire down on the pirates, the visors of their helmets allowing them to distinguish friend from foe in the darkness. However, though their weapons and position offered them a tremendous advantage, many of them were quite demoralized, for they knew that regardless of how well they performed in the battle, they would still likely be executed by their unreasonable commanding officer for not spotting the pirates as they had approached the compound. The pirates fired back at the gunners, and before long two of them had abandoned their turrets, deciding to take their chances and run rather than stay and face death regardless of the outcome of the fight.
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05-21-2017, 06:18 AM | #7 (permalink) |
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Chapter Five The doorway behind him now sealed by the explosion, the man had little choice other than to make his way to the top of the watchtower. Climbing up the staircase, he opened the door at the top and stepped outside. Almost immediately, the IME helicopter passed over him, firing a barrage of lasers at his position. Dodging the gunfire to the best of his ability, the man then quickly mounted the watchtower’s laser turret, and fired back at the helicopter. Within moments, the helicopter had exploded, the remains of it’s flaming frame bursting apart as it came crashing down on top of the garrison. The man then turned his attention to the soldiers across the battlefield, firing on them with reckless abandon. Before he could do much damage, however, a soldier with a rocket launcher began to fire back at the watchtower. Though the structure was reinforced, and the soldier’s aim was far from accurate, the blasts still tore large holes through the watchtower, and eventually it began to collapse. The man abandoned the turret, jumping off of the tower as it became little more than rubble, landing on a section of the compound’s wall.
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05-22-2017, 09:15 PM | #8 (permalink) |
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Chapter Six On a hill overlooking the city, the rebels stared forward in silence. Cutting through the darkness of night, endless veins of neon lights stretched across buildings and streets as swarms of helicopters passed over the city. All across the cityscape, numerous pillars of flames were climbing towards the sky, each one signifying the destruction of a rebel stronghold. Using the information extracted from the leader of the bootleggers, the IME forces had begun their final push towards uprooting all rebel activity in the city. Every moment that passed by, yet another flame appeared on the horizon. Turning away from the city, the man withdrew his pistol as he began to walk down the path that wound around the hill. The woman stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder. The man angrily brushed her hand aside. Turning to face her, he expected to see tearful eyes staring back at him, as she tried to convince him to not throw his life away. However, as the two locked gazes through the tinted visors of their helmets, he looked at her and saw naught but a smile of clever determination. In her eyes continued to burn the passionate fire that he had fallen in love with all those years ago, on the day that their gazes had first met. He smiled back, realizing that she, as always, had a plan.
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05-23-2017, 10:16 AM | #9 (permalink) |
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Chapter Seven The officer, reclining comfortably in the back seat of his private luxury vehicle, a strange and striking custom car that was both an antique and a heavily armored military-grade transport, closed his eyes as the sound of soothing music surrounded him. Though his was a heart that grew restless when not in danger, his taste in music had always been inclined towards the calm and relaxing, and as his driver weaved through traffic, the officer desired little more than to be surrounded by waves of soothing sound, and to partake in a brief moment of well earned introspection. He thought of a man that he had once beaten for spilling paint on his uniform as he had walked by. He laughed. Such was life. Everything that he possessed, every memory that he had built, and every bit of happiness that he had found, he welcomed without any hints of regret, for he had in years past experienced the cold of existence, and had come to love the warmth of satisfaction, a spark that is kindled by indulging in one’s nature. He didn’t believe in good or evil; only the cold, and the warmth.
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05-24-2017, 08:17 AM | #10 (permalink) |
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Chapter Eight As soon the two rebels had fallen forward into the building, the officer, who had been lying in wait for them, wasted no time in firing on them. Barely on her feet, the woman rolled gracelessly to the side, evading the onslaught, while the man fired back as he took cover in a large booth to his left. The officer screamed as one of the man’s return shots passed through his shoulder, and he fled into the crowd of people watching the scene with expressions of confused horror. The motorcyclists, both breathing deeply and sweating profusely, took a second to get their bearings and let their weapons cool down. Scanning the interior of the building, the man laughed to himself. Somehow, their road battle had ended up inside of a busy dance club, the air filled with smoke and neon beams of harmless decorative light as music deemed appropriate by IME for public play filled the air, paid for by the patrons’ door charge.
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