LiM: Chapters 1&2
#1 of LiQUID METAL
If you don't like guys, girls, furres, sex or love, violence (Not in yiff) or if you're too young (18, 21 in some places, just ask the police "Hey, am I allowed to read sexy bisexual furre stories on the net?") or any of that, CLOSE TEH WINDOW NOWS! All characters are copyright me, Shinkada, and are used with my permission, with the exception of Coda, who is copyrighted to Coro, and used with his permission, and Venter, who is copyrighted to Max, and likewise used with his permission. This story is a bit mushy at times, so if you don't want lurve, buzz off. Anyone who bugs me "OMG MORE YIFF PLOX" will get castrated by Okhami himself. I put in enough of it already to get you off AT LEAST once per every few chapters. If you're still not satisfied take a cold shower. ***'s represent a change of scenery or time. ---'s represent a non-critical yiff scene, fan service to shut up the wailing masses. Please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story without whining about it. It's a good story. I like it. -Shinkada
LiQUID METAL
- * * ***CHAPTER 1: Home Sweet Home.*** I used to think that life was nothing but a wait. That the entire purpose of life was to look ahead, saying to yourself all the way, "It'll get better." We Furres need something to believe in. All life-forms do, I think. Something to strive for. Whether that was to lead a good enough life to be admitted into the afterlife (Heaven, Nirvana, whatever your belief,) or whether it was simply to survive for a greater cause. To be clichéd, some strive for money, others for knowledge, others for power and others for love. I'm the latter; I believe the ultimate goal of life, is love. Money's definitely up there, as is knowledge, but ultimately, it's all for love. For this end I believe in karma; since I've failed miserably in the ways of love so far in life, I try to believe in karma, that everything will get better because I've been patient. However, it's a roller coaster of a ride towards love, and it can lead you to some strange places that you really just never expected. This is my own story, of how love somehow snuck up on me when I needed it most, and the unusual form it took. *** December 26th, the morning after High school Graduation. I'm sure everyone knows those exceptionally loud, incessant alarm clocks; the ones with the three quick, high-pitched beeps, a pause, and so on and so forth. I can tell you right now they're a hundred times worse after so much vodka that you're pissing and sweating it. Slamming a paw down on the clock, an action that only made my headache worse, I groaned and wrapped my pillow around my head. Suddenly remembering something, I lifted the pillow slightly to stare across me; sure enough, there was Sophia, my counselor from Year 12; I smirked at this. She wasn't quite so protective of 'the warped psychology of a student seducing a teacher' after a fair bit of vodka and some blackmail. Further blackmail would ensure no one knew about this. My brief moment of confidence was broken, however, when I heard the keys turn in the lock of the front door, and a friendly, "We're home sweetie!" called out, directed at me. I did what any furre would do; panicked like hell. Sophia woke with a groan, only to be rudely awakened by me pushing her out and then under the bed. She was about to protest before I quickly leaned down, a neutral, but very firm stare planted on my face, and whispered to her, "One peep and your career's over." She was ready to protest, but my demeanor and the threat itself, once it was processed in her hung-over mind, worked, and she shut up. I stood up and painted my muzzle with a happy face just as my mother opened the door. Just to set the scene, my room all those years ago was a slightly off-white, a nice, relaxing shade, as were most of the things in my room. The bed was that shade, along with the rest of the furniture; the floor was wooden boards, unpainted but polished; the only decorations were a large poster of my favourite bands, L'Arc~en~Ciel and Kamelot, my black TV, and my equally black Xbox 'Spiral', the latest in VR tech. "Hi honey, how was your night?" she inquired immediately in that fakely-interested voice mothers all seem to perfect, at the same time digging around my room for any changes. "Pretty good, mostly just sat around, played-," but I was interrupted as she lifted the sheets to reveal a large, damp patch in the center of my bed. Despite being in her early 30's, Sophia did do pretty well; I thought up the first thing I could. "Ah, yeah... I was gunna clean that up... First time in a long few years I wet the bed... Eh heh..." I said as I tried to act nervous about wetting the bed, when really I was nervous about mum realizing just what the scent was. "Aww. That's okay, just clean it up and come on down for breakfast," she replied, as I thanked anything I believed in for her current density. Just as she was about to leave, though, she turned, smiling, and walked back. "Oh, almost forgot, here's your Christmas....... Present........" Before I could stop, or even notice her and what she was doing, mum was looking under the bed, staring directly into the eyes of my vulpine psychologist, her eyes moving down over the furry mounds of her naked breasts, to the mess of fur between her legs, plastered there by my seed from last night. At the same time, it seems, she was hit by exactly what the liquid on the bed was. Her face pale, my mother, without a word, stood up, and walked out of my room, closing the door behind her. I knew I was in some deep trouble now; although at the time I had no idea just how deep. I helped Sophia up and handed her her clothes; she likewise went out without a word, and showed herself out. *** So, let's clarify some stuff, here. My name's Okhami Hibana; yeah, nice name, real typical for a wolf, huh? Apparently I've got a half-brother named Shinda Hibana, although that's not important, or relevant. My mother is a feline, a pretty standard house-bred Australian cat with ginger fur, whereas my father, strangely enough, is a Japanese arctic wolf, a husky. Their product? Me. I'm primarily an arctic wolf, like my father, with a lot of his features; Japanese-style eyes, large, almost ridiculously-so ears, and his fur colouring, with the exception of the tribal markings I had dyed all over my body, and the fact that I had dyed my hair a deep purple, and also grew it down to my waist. My build was average then, slim but not muscled or anything. I was about 5'5", very short for a husky, but I liked being shortish. I usually wore a large, ground-length black trench coat, open, nothing underneath to show off my chest which was pretty well shaped for my age group, except for the real gym buffs, and baggy black pants. Never anything on my feet since I just thought it looked cool to show off my hind paws. I think my favourite features about myself back then were my fur, as well as the tribal markings I had on my face, the bright, large ruby-red earrings I have that contrast hugely with my fur, clothes and hair, and, best of all, my eyes. The shape, yes, I got from my father, as most else, but my eyes themselves came straight from my mum. Ruby-red cat's eyes, which matched my earrings and earnt me a lot of teasing at school; whoever heard of a wolf with cat's eyes? But none the less, they looked great against my fur; they were also pretty much the only thing I got from my mother. So, enough vanity, back to the story. *** So, mum didn't speak to me for 3 days, for one thing. She spent about 95% of her conscious time on the phone, talking to either my dad or her best friend, about me. I don't know, even to this day, whether she was disgusted, worried, or just shocked, or any combination of the above. I also don't know which of the above inspired her next move. "Okhami, can I come in?" she said after knocking on the door. She never called me Okhami unless she was deadly serious. Usually Ook, which I hated. "Yeah, come in." By now I, myself, was almost worried about her. Almost. She sat on my bed as I looked over from my computer desk, away from Unreal Tournament 2k32, staring down at the ground. We sat there for a long few minutes; I'm not sure just how long. Before she finally spoke. "There won't be any debating this," she began. "This decision is final. It has already been arranged and there will be nothing said about it. I know you wanted to take a year off but... Things have changed. I booked you in at the Royal Guard Military School... It's a dorm school... I'm sure they'll straighten you out over there after... Wednesday..." She gathered herself, wiped a tear from her eye and left the room. The next few weeks of holidays before I went to the Royal Guard Military School seemed to be a blur. An entire month, and that one sentence had ruined it. I couldn't focus, play games, I couldn't even womanize and party like I had intended to do. Everything just... Collapsed. * * *
LiQUID METAL
- * * ***CHAPTER 2: And on the First Day...*** January 25th, the First Morning of my New Life. I remember that morning amazingly vividly. Granted, now I see it very differently, but at the time it was one of the most painful mornings of my life, in every aspect. The clock went off louder than ever; surprising, since I was sober the previous night. I rolled over with a soft groan; 4:00am. "Oh-Four-Hundred," I thought to myself cynically. Way too early for anyone to be conscious, unless they were continuing from the previous night. I rolled out of bed, using the ice-cold impact of the floor as a wakeup call, and stumbled into the bathroom to get ready. *** My hair was still purple although since the start of the holidays I'd put black streaks through it. This morning I had it gelled back spiky enough to make me look like something out of an anime series, thankful that my hair was thick enough to let me do something as nuts as this. A few bits of Indian-style jewelry, made out of very small feathers and beads, hung from one side of my hair, a light brown to stand out against me. With my hair layered like this I looked slightly feminine; something I didn't mind too much. This along with my other trench coat that was closer to robes, black, a soft but thick material that was layered in quite a few areas to give it that complex, sectioned look, open, no shirt, and my usual black pants. For some reason I looked kind of fox-ish; dunno why, but I was proud of myself this morning. "It's important to make a good first impression," I thought to myself as I admired the mirror. "Just so they know what they're getting themselves into," I added with a wolfish smirk. It wasn't that I was naive about what was going on. I knew I was going to a military school. I'd be trained in weapons along with the usual curriculum. I'd been made to sign a release form; the lieutenant could break my arm or put a knife through my hand if he thought it would teach me a valuable lesson, to myself or the others. I knew I was putting myself in the firing line by pruning myself like this. But at that stage of my life, everything was a game to me. Maybe it was Virtual Reality desensitizing me. Maybe it was the fact that I'd given up; there was a time, not too many years ago, when I was adamantly against alcohol, sex, rudeness and raves; and now that's exactly what I was. I'd given up trying to fight the masses, and had become one of them. So instead of remaining in the background, I decided to see just how far I could push my commanders, and just how much they could put up with me before they snapped. I could die any day; as long as I made an example out of a flaw in the world, I was pretty happy with my passing. Mum got up at 5, pretty much the exact same time I adjusted the last bang of my hair into place. She gazed at me once and walked into the kitchen. She'd been like this the whole holidays; she'd taken the morning catching Sophia and me together much harder than even I'd expected. God knows what dad thought; he was situated with his job overseas and mum had been talking to him on the phone a lot. The combined school fees and phone calls had probably set back our economics.. But then with me gone, they'd shoot back up. I wasn't sure, mum hadn't said a word to me since telling me what she'd enrolled me into. I chewed down breakfast and we left as soon as I was done. *** The car ride was probably the most awkward thing I've had to do in years. Not a single word was uttered. The radio was off; I was tempted to switch it on but I really didn't want to give mum an excuse to go off. I could have sworn I saw a tear slip from her eye... But I wasn't positive. The entire time I was mostly just watching traffic, thinking up random scenarios of what might happen when I got there. What would my commander be like? What would my roommates be like? Was it a mixed gender school? It was possible, since females had long since been allowed into the military openly. Hell, the current Secretary of Defense was female. With these thoughts pummeling through my head, almost before I knew it, we arrived at the Royal Guard Military Academy, or the RGMA. It was a prestigious school, I knew that. I knew that it was well funded since most of its students went into the army itself. But when I saw the campus, I couldn't help but get excited. It was HUGE. Just, plain and simple, huge. There were firing ranges everywhere, huge obstacle courses, and the buildings themselves (Five of them) were an odd mix of styles. The two medium-sized buildings at the back (although still massive) were both a mix of Victorian and gothic architecture, the largest building looked like a typical Japanese school from back in the 20's, whereas the smallest, central building, was sleek, smooth, and what had become known as 'modern' (Although a few years ago it would've been known as futuristic and conceptual). The last building was situated a fair way away from the others; it was made completely out of a dull metal that didn't even reflect the sun, and was a little smaller than the two matching medium buildings. It caught my attention, but only for a moment. When the car arrived to the front door of the central complex, I smiled to my mum; she didn't see me, or chose not to, and simply looked straight ahead, while clicking the back of the car open. I smirked to myself, shaking my head a bit, and got out to stretch. I got my few bags out of the back of the car and walked up to shake the hand of the official-looking fox who came out to meet me. When I turned around to see what mum was going to say, all's I saw was the back of the car driving away from the complex. Even in my post-teenage rebellion years, my heart sank a little. Not even a hug or a wave to her son, who she wouldn't see in a long few months? "Hmph!" I thought, making up my mind and turning it from a slight moment of sadness, to stubbornness and anger. "She's the one who put me here, let her run with her ears down!" As if reading my thoughts, I felt a paw pat my shoulder twice, before being withdrawn. I half-turned to meet the eyes of the fox, with a raised brow. "She's just worried about you. That's why you're here. She'll forgive you in time." I couldn't help but get a little bit angrier at this. Forgive me? For what? For being a natural person? Just 'cus she gets turned down every time she tries to hook up with some guy... "Captain James R. Drake. Nice to meet you, Okhami." He seemed friendly enough; for a Captain. He was your typical fox; red fur with white markings, jet black fur covering the tips of his ears and tail, and I assumed his hands and feet; although right now said things were covered in a typical military uniform. The military cap made his ears fold back, and I could see his breast was heavily decorated. His eyes, however, made me stop a moment; they were mischievous, something unusual for a high-ranked military figure, and filled with something else I couldn't make out. I instantly felt like I could trust him, if only a little. "Nice to meet you, James," I said, shaking his paw again with a proper introduction. "That'll be Captain Drake to you, kiddo. And I expect a salute, too." Yep. There was the rank kicking in. I rolled my eyes, but it was too early to start setting myself out there; "Sure thing, Captain Drake," I said and sealed with a half-assed salute. "Damn kid, haven't you seen movies? Where's the 'Sir, yes sir!'?" he said, but barked the 'Sir, yes Sir!' bit very loudly, making me jump a little. Was he TRYING to test my patience? "Sir, yes Sir, Captain Drake!" I barked back. A smirk crept across the fox's muzzle, and he gave me a salute even more half-assed than my original one. "I won't be teaching you, unless you take blade classes." This made me raise my eyebrows. "Blade classes? They still use swords in the military?" "In the last few months we've started using -all- manner of blades again. Swords, axes, glaives, pikes, you name it. You see, our armor technology is expanding much quicker than our weaponry technology; so is our enemies' tech. While guns aren't completely ineffective, they may be soon; as it stands it takes about 25-30 shots from an automatic rifle to penetrate medium armor, or about 6 shots from a high-powered sniper rifle. Our laser blades, however, can slice that armor in only one slash. Plus, with reflective stealth technology, blade users are able to get close before the enemy can even spot them. On top of this, swords cut - excuse the pun - friendly fire casualties down by about 90%." This made me think a while. The whole while I'd assumed I'd be using firearms. But a blade? I've always loved swords... "Oh," Drake continued, "We're also at the whole Star Wars era of laser technology. The blades are reflective of energy, and although it's near-impossible, with the exception of flukes, with auto-rifles, sniper phasers are slow moving to compensate for their power. With a bit of luck and a lot of dexterity and heavy reflexes, a blade user could reflect a sniper phaser." "I see..." This made my decision for me. "How many classes can someone choose?" I asked, raising a brow and half-smirking. Drake made a signal to follow him and we began to walk up the path towards the building. "You're given 2 compulsory subjects; those are Survival, and History. You can then choose between 3 and 5 optional subjects. There's a long list, but some of them are Basic Firearms, Advanced Firearms, Basic Blade skills, Advanced Blade skills, Piloting, Naval Piloting, Intel, Leadership, Technology Development... The list goes on. You'll be given some time to choose; actual classes don't start until the 5th next month. Until then you have some time to apply for your subjects, learn the layout of the place, and meet your friends and roommates. While I won't be teaching you, I look after your floor of the male dorms." My heart almost skipped a beat. "Male dorms? So there's female dorms too?" I was too eager, though, and Drake obviously detected it. "Indeed, this school is co-ed. Of course, if any males are caught in the female dorms, or vice versa, the punishment is up to whoever catches them... But it's never light. The last guy caught trying to sneak into a girl's room had his hand stuck to a wall in solitary confinement for two weeks with an energy saber," was Drake's reply, matter-of-factly. Another smirk spread over his muzzle as he caught my wince. The inside of the Main Building was breathtaking. The lobby was massive. The walls were a bright white, as was the floor and ceiling; everything seemed almost glaringly polished. Chairs and couches lined the walls, and at the far end of the room, a beautiful female panther sat behind the thick, bulletproof glass; two doorways were either side of the office, obviously leading deeper into the building. The grey metal doors of elevators were on each side of the room, two on each side, and really completed the feel. It was dead-silent, with only the scratching of the panther's pen to be heard, as the computers were state-of-the-art, and didn't make a sound. The room smelt odorless, completely. "This is the office, as I'm sure you've realized," Drake explained. "You'll sign up properly here. Your mother's already paid the fees, so there's no need for that. We just need some extra details and some more signatures." *** About 10 sheets later, I sighed as I got to the final sheet; about time. My brain was tired from so much reading. The final sheet was simply labeled 'PLEASE READ THIS NO MATTER WHAT.' I had an urge to skip it just to be cocky, but when the military used caps lock, you knew it was important. I skimmed over it, since I was tired from the last few pages, but came to rest on the options at the bottom. [] Light testing. (New personal weapons, armor, and intel technology) [] Medium testing. (New vehicles, food capsules, more dangerous weaponry.) [] Heavy testing. (Slightly unstable vehicles, heavy and/or experimental weaponry) [] Extreme testing. (Chemical weapons, torture methods and experimental armor. WARNING. By ticking this box you wave all rights as a furson. We will not be responsible for anything that happens to you, at all. Serious injury, and occasional deaths are not uncommon. Please be aware of ALL terms before ticking this box!) Now, I'm a tech buff. In a very big way. I love anything new, I love new weapons tech, I love any new tech. I had to think for a moment here. Drake was about to talk, but I interrupted him; I almost saw a vein pop in his forehead. "It's okay, Captain Drake, 'sir'. I understand this." I quickly ticked Light, Medium and Heavy testing; Extreme was a bit much, and I assumed I'd be having the technology used on me more frequently than I used it myself if I enlisted for that, so I kept it for the first three. The vein on Drake's forehead receded a bit, and I couldn't help but notice that foxy smirk return to his muzzle; I almost noted something else accompany it, in his eyes, but he changed his expression too quickly for me to interpret it. "Good to see such a new student interested in helping create new defenses for his country," Drake began. I mentally rolled my eyes at this; I didn't give a rat's ass about my country. "It's unusual we see anyone enlist for weapons testing until they've been here a few months. Thanks Kara.." Drake finished, handing my forms to the panther as a section of the glass seamlessly slid away. She quickly accepted it with a gentle smile, before the glass resealed. "Now, I'll show you to your new room, you can meet your roommates; one has arrived so far; and you can begin unpacking. The introductory speech is at fifteen hundred sharp. Miss it and you'll be in trouble." "Roommates? As in, more than one?" "Correct. Rooms have between two and four boarders at once; your particular room will have three. Follow me," Drake replied in his militant, commanding voice, and led me outside. It hit me suddenly that the campus was almost deserted. "Where is everyone?" I asked, and was met with a firm stare. ".. Er, Captain, Sir." I quickly added. "Most people we have are here from last year," Drake began. "We have a lot more students here from last year than we do new ones. We only opened today; as long as you arrived before fifteen hundred you could get here any time. Seems your mother was eager to shove you out," Drake said with a small, almost unnoticeable grin. 'Yeah, I'm sure.' I thought to myself, but knew better than to speak it unless I was looking for trouble. *** Drake led me over to the left building of the two medium-sized, Victorian-gothic buildings. It was certainly an unorthodox school to have such strange architecture, I thought; strange for something so prestigious to be so unusual. The lobby of the male dorms had two guards posted both sides of the entrance, and two more inside, one for each elevator. Although the room was the same layout as the office room earlier, it was more of a brownish-orange kind of colour, very relaxing and homely; and there was no office, but rather a door at the end of the hall. I was about to ask about it, but Drake beat me to it. "The door at the end is one of the recreation rooms. There's one on each floor. There's a bunch of pool tables inside, a few TVs, computers, dart boards... Just things to take your mind of classes when you need a break. Also to just hang out." It was an odd thing to have in a military institution... But I guess it was also a college, so, that explained it. We took the elevator up to the 10th floor, and Drake led me down the hall; room 1016. He handed me the keys and looked down at me with a smile. "I'll let you meet your room mate. I have things to do, as usual. I suppose I'll probably see you at blade training. Introduction at fifteen hundred, don't forget." This time, I gave him a proper salute, sliding my feet together as I raised my right fist to my left breast; I had respect for him now, he seemed alright for a Captain, and I assumed he'd probably be the most relaxed Captain I could hope for. "Sir, yes Sir. Thank you for your time." Drake returned the salute, something I definitely didn't expect, before returning to the elevator. I watched him go, before I slid my key into the door.