Featherwing vs. Haibane vs. Doom 3 Remix Chapter 1

This is the second post to the Featherwing vs. Doom 3 vs. Haibane Renmei Remix
The first one is the opening song: http://featherwinglove.blogspot.com/2009/05/visions-precious-child.html
The third one is Chapter 2: http://featherwinglove.blogspot.com/2009/05/haibane-doom-3-remix-chapter-2.html

DISCLAIMER: References to features of religions or faith beliefs do not necessarily mean that the authors, Terry Wilson, Matthew Costello, and Yoshitoshi ABe (or anyone else for that matter), take them seriously. All characters featured are new; none appear in either FWL, Doom 3, or Haibane Renmei. Also, don't forget that this is a work of fiction, not prophecy.

This story was written by Terry Wilson, who makes no copyright claims against the concepts of the other authors. This work will never be commercially published without the permission of the copyright holders for all three worlds.

Here's the Story:

She wakes up, and quickly realizes that she is in a tank of fluid, large enough that if she curled up, none of her extremities would touch the sides. Well...perhaps her long flowing blond hair. Feeling the walls, she wonders if it is a natural construct. Coming back to her senses, she realizes that she is probably in the sensory deprivation chamber of her enemies, and that they are trying to get information out of her. Instinct, however tells her she can break out of it. While she scrapes away the soft inner layer, she realizes that she is breathing the fluid, not air through a mask; the only thing she's wearing is a plain white gown with a tie closure at her back. She is confused out of her wits, it's like nothing in her mind matches up with her surroundings. The hard shell of the cocoon seems cold. Planting her feet in the soft layer behind her, she starts pounding on the shell with her fist, cracking it, she can feel the pressure dropping around her ears. I have to finish now or I'll die. Die? Didn't she die? She's thinking...she remembered dying...or at least suffering life-threatening injuries. Nonetheless, she keeps pounding on the leaking cocoon shell.

It shatters, and the rush of fluid carries her out into the room. She holds her breath until the fluid level gets low enough that she can keep her mouth and nostrils above it by resting her head on the edge of the hole she broke in the cocoon. Leaning over the edge of the cocoon facing back into it, she exhales the fluid from her lungs and draws in air, then starts coughing the rest of it up. She passes out on the cocoon's edge.

Waking up, sensing that several hours had passed, she feels very cold, alone in the room. She listens, looks around. Can I still hear well enough? she thinks, then she sees out a window in the strange, messy room that it is snowing outside. She lifts up the still damp gown until the hem is at her ribcage, then concentrates. Sharp pains stab out of her shoulders up her arms and down her back. Impossible, she gasps. Examining herself, she appears to be totally uninjured. She dusts off the top half of the body mirror leaning against the wall, the bottom half having been washed by the cocoon fluid. She opens the back of the strange robe and sees two large bruises on her shoulder blades. "Yeah, whatever," she mutters aloud and ties the robe back up. Did I lose my wings? she thinks. I'm freezing...if I can't deploy, I have to find help or insulation.

She's not surprised to find the room's one door locked. She was surprised to be able to knock it down with a single kick. Obviously the building she was in wasn't well maintained...probably totally abandoned. She isn't a prisoner after all. She calls out, "Help!" before she starts wandering down the hall in her search for insulation. She's about seventeen-ish, she thinks, but can't remember (what's the point without a calendar and any idea how long she had been in the cocoon anyway?), about five-foot-six, blonde hair extending past the welts on her back. "Help!" she cries again.

"Coming!" is the answer she hears. Another girl, younger perhaps. The lady is getting weak from the cold and a bizarre fever, so she is happy to hear an answer. The girl emerges from the stairwell door, stunned at her new guest's appearance. She's just under five feet tall with dark hair. The blonde lady gasps at her host's playful cherub features. Wings splay from her back and a glowing halo hovers over her head.

"What are you?" the guest gasps.

"Haibane," she answers simply, "Ash Feather, Ailes Grises; pick your favorite."

"Haibane?" the taller guest gasps, "Where am I?"

"North Wing, 3rd Floor, the Old Home in the town of Glie," the shorter hosts answers, taking her hand, she instructs, "we have to get you to the guest room before you freeze. Come on!"

Following her host, the young lady runs to the end of a long corridor, then briefly outside into the blizzard, across the snow into the East Wing. Her host shows her into a bed, then wraps her up in its blankets.

"Where are my wings?" she asks, "They will grow soon, be patient. I've never heard of a Haibane so eager to get her wings."

"I'm not a Haibane, I'm a-" she gasps, what am I called? Why can't I remember?? Switching threads, she said. "My wings are secret, but I'll show them to you anyway," she says, she jolts forward, cries in pain. "I can't deploy them!" she cries.

"My name is Menmo," the host says. Two more Haibane enter the room. "This is Shimoni," she says pointing out the taller red head with long hair, "and here is Kurai."

Kurai sighs, "I'm going to get her halo." She quickly retreats.

"So, tell us about your cocoon dream," Menmo says, "Haibane are named after their cocoon dreams. I dreamed about flying in the fluffy clouds like a bird, I had fluffy invisible down over my body to keep me warm...so my name Menmo means fluffy."

The guest answers, "Perhaps you were once like me."

"You can't steal her name," Shimoni laughs.

"I'm not," the guest sighs, "I just wonder if we were the same kind before we came here. Secret wings."

Shimoni explains, "I dreamed that I was climbing down a deep shaft, climbing what seemed like an endless ladder to get down to the bottom. So I am called Shimoni, for downwards."

"I'd tell you my name first, but I can't remember it. I remember such detail about my life," she cries, "it's awful, don't make me describe it now. Let me get my bearings first."

"So," Menmo asks, "what do we call you until then?"

The guest cries, "Tatakai! Tatakai (闘) will be my name in this world," she starts crying. The two Haibane gasp.

Menmo sighs, "If that fits your dream, it must be very painful."

The sounds of battle fill her thoughts, she flies over a red battlefield over her enemies, on her Featherwing wings, weilding a large silver weapon with a trapezoidal muzzle, she takes aim at a group of her enemies holding down the firing stud, who look up and see her. The weapon fires a huge green fireball, lightning like emissions come from it, one for each enemy in the group. She banks left to get clear. Her weapon's discharge creates a massive explosion. Drawing enormous amounts of firepower from other enemies below her, she gets ready for another shot as she turns back to friendly territory for more ammunition. She pops a large empty bottle out of the left side of the gun, and from her pouch puts the last of the full green bottles into it. She holds down the weapon's trigger, charging it.

She is hit. Her left wing is blown to pieces. She furls, making her right wing and the shredded root of her left wing disappear. Her left arm gnarls up, her thumb and first finger literally vanish. Right hand still on the weapon, she locks the firing stud and removes the safety interlock while falling out of the sky. She knows she can't make it. She tosses the weapon aside and lets it fall into a dense group of creatures. They throw fireballs from their hands, which burn when they hit. After taking several hits from those, her gun, still close to her in the air, explodes. All she sees is white, and all sound disappears. [The weapon is the BFG-9000 from Doom 3; the creatures are Imps]

"The battle at the end of the world!" she cries.

Menmo suddenly realizes, "your wings are about to come out," she opens the back of Tatakai's robe.

"Get away, get clear!" Tatakai cries. Shimoni and Menmo back away. Tatakai says, "Farther ... I can't control them, I don't know if I can keep them folded ... I don't want to hurt you."

Her wings emerge from her back in a bloody eruption. They are only slightly larger than the wings of a normal Haibane.

Tatakai looks around herself, "That's it?" she gasps.

Menmo, standing there timidly, mutters, "What we're you expecting? If you had wings before, you don't have the same wings in this world. May we approach now?"

Tatakai nods, "I feel awful. These wings don't feel like my own, and they hurt. Will they ever furl?" she asks.

"Furl?" Menmo asks as she starts to use a cloth to wipe the blood and bits of fat from Tatakai's feathers, "what a mess!" she exclaims.

"My old wings could...I could deploy and furl them at will, make them appear and disappear. I could use them to fly," Tatakai explains. "Oh," she realizes, "stroke the other way along the feathers, the barbs lean towards the-" she suddenly remembers these are different wings. "Uh, Menmo, which way do the barbules lean on the quills of the feathers? Do they lean towards the feather's root or away."

Menmo answers quickly, "Away, silly, like any feather..."

Tatakai lowers herself to rest on the bed. Shinomi goes around to the other side and starts washing her right wing. Menmo then says, "...except in my cocoon dream."

Tatakai gasps, "Your cocoon dream? Describe your wings, please."

Menmo remembers, "They were big, I can't remember how much they spanned, but I could not reach the tips. They didn't come out of my back like these...they came out lower, on my sides."

Tatakai sighs, "Menmo, I think we were the same kind before we came here."

"Tatakai," Shimoni asks, "with such a high fever and the pain of your new wings breaking out, you were still able to talk to us."

Tatakai responds, "I named myself 'battle', Shinomi. I was a warrior, used to pain and blood," she sighs and plonks her head on the pillow. "Is it safe to sleep?" she asks.

"Of course, Tatakai," Memno says, "We're not at war, and Shimoni and I will be right here for at least an hour to wash your wings." With that, Tatakai closes her eyes and is snoring within a few breaths.

Next Remix Post: http://featherwinglove.blogspot.com/2009/05/haibane-doom-3-remix-chapter-2.html