HotS Community Launch Party Contests - Page 7

On March 02 2013 12:12 Hungry Cerberus wrote:
I just want to say that I love EG, Idra, and Huk so this is in no way meant to bash anyone. I really like the way the community exaggerates the characteristics of it's community figures. I wanted to play on that idea and try to capture some of that mythic ideal in my short story submission. Here it is!

The Hearts of the Swarm

He is a tiny man, inside and out, his face perpetually turned downwards, as if to avoid meeting the gaze of those whom he considers lesser, which seems to include everyone. He wears glasses, dark rimmed and piercing, magnifying his beady glare. His chin is wrapped in a dark strap of hair that grows in ordered rows, conforming to his rigid desire, his need for control. It is only hair, but on him it is violent, an extension of his snarl, an accent that draws the eye downwards, into his downcast expression, pulling your focus to the feature he unleashes upon you. Dark. Dead. Eyes. His name is Idra and he probably hates you.

The other's face is soft and boyish, black hair short, straight, and perfectly balanced. His face is heart shaped, if that is possible, if only because his queer eyebrows are built in taunt diagonals toward his nose and his ears are large, permanently covered by a dark hoodie, blocking out the world, leaving only room for the game. He smiles, often, and with the slight curve of a man who has reason to be smug. He holds his hands together, outstretched in front of him, as if they are a talisman to ward off the approaching dark, as if his heart is being held carefully in front of him, daring the world to take it. Huk stares straight ahead, forever ready to meet his destiny.

The two men sit together, ignoring each other, words having lost any meaning. In front of them sits a wasteland, the battered remnants of their dreams, their lives; the world they have built sits in ruin. A vast empire once stood here, one built on growth and control, massive armies carefully organized and orchestrated, each detail in place. The second was built on brazen and courageous fury, attacks in the face of danger, long shots and against the odds, all or nothing, a confidence built on wit and intelligence. Two vastly different empires, but built as if there could be no end. But the empires have fallen, leaving nothing but the wastes.

They have returned here to begin anew, ignoring the losses and the sharp edge of doubt. They sit together, staring at the nothingness, with only hope and a promise. They are the fallen giants, the beasts among men who will tear the world into two halves, bearing the sigils of the black and red heart. They are the evil geniuses, the tyrants, the conquerors of men, and they have nothing. For now.

Beware the fall of giants.

And above all, beware their return.