Mastercrap Theater 10 and 11!


Welcome one and all to The Infection! This post marks the beginning of the longest week for us as we prepare to take you all to our coverage of Anime North 2009. This week we plan to update with something new and interesting every day until the convention and beginning next week we’ll start with the launch of our own YouTube channel! We’ll kick off this very special week with yet another double feature of our own original story- Snowflake!

Snowflake Chapter 10

Hammer, hammer, and Hammer away old man. Beat that steel as hard as you can. Hammer, hammer, shape that metal, mold it and make it into something new. Hammer, hammer, the fires are high and the fumes threaten to suffocate you but you must not stop now. Your mission is clear, the goal is so near. You feel your heart failing and you feel your arms get heavy, but beat that metal you damn old man, beat it as hard as you can. It’s taking shape now, you feel you heart lifting, there is hope yet. Down your wrinkled cheek sweat drops, drips and drizzles. You have three quarters of it left to do, so don’t take a break now, keep pounding damn you!

Hammer, hammer, hammer away young one. Beat that wood as hard as you can. Hammer, hammer, crack! The wood is chipped but you do not care, the one you love is behind there. Hammer, hammer, and hammer. Let it be heard high, let it be heard low, for this woman you will not ever go. You grow weary of this game with the door, you refuse to play anymore. Boom, boom, boom goes your foot on the door, you kick it and bash it then you finally smash it.

Hammer, hammer, and hammer old man working every bone, tooth and nail. You keep working even though you are old and frail. Soon your time will come, much like the Quail but no…Not yet, you have one more mission and you refuse to fail. The heat makes you see things and the gas is swirling around you but your end is near and you know your minutes are few. Hammer, hammer, and hammer. Let it be heard. Even if that sound is your last testament, your last word.

Like a lion bearing its new mane, the young one step in and barks a roar of vengeance.

“Sforza!!!” he cries

The young lion steps over the broken wood, it tried to stop him but it did no good. The lion roars at all passersby. Some run, some hide, some cry. He’s young and on an adrenaline high. His emotions rushing, he wants to cry. Its walk now a mere stagger it still has eyes that pierce like a dagger. Rage and lust are his parents and they have sent him here to fulfill their wicked purpose. The lion reaches a grand staircase but it does not change the look on his face.

The old man pounded away, he had pounded from now and would not end till daylight. His hands were hot, his palms sweaty, but a mission near complete. He kept beating the metal and then he was done. The sun rose. He had won the fight and it was over, now for his last sleep, this was long and deep. His heart faltered in peace and his eyes slowly closed, it was over now and that was it. His story is over and he’s done with this shit. That was the end of Sforza.

The lion went up the Staircase, to get to the top to find something of magnificent beauty and grace. The lion had found its prey and now the sun was breaking above the clouds. It was day. Her hair shone in the sunlight, long and grey. The lion had her in its sights but he could not jump. He was with his love again, his heart jumped instead, he was alive, surely now he would survive. The day looked down upon him and then she saw his pride, the pack of unruly lions that followed him. She then turned away from him, the clouds covered her face. The lion then chased the sunlight; he could not understand why his precious sun would run away from him. His heart dropped and the lion was no more, he had nothing to fight for. His pride came near him but he sent them away with a single roar of anger.

The old man’s spark was no longer alight. This was his end, his night. One of the young women who stood by his side came looking for him to find his forge no longer lit. She took one look at the scene and realized that this was it, the old man’s end. The Snowflakes stayed and cooled in their molds. Three dazzling jewels, not worthy of heaven or Earth, were sparkling inside the molds, but nobody knew yet.

Chapter 11

Three ships were in the harbour, sailing gracefully in the moonlight. These ships were well lit and there were lights that gave an aura of festivity to anyone on the shore looking at the three ships passing by. It was not a festive occasion on the ships but a sad one, for some. It was a time of togetherness and a time where you wanted to be alone. It was a time of celebration but also a time of mourning. It was a funeral. On this night in the moonlit harbour, the three ships sailed out to sea with the body of Sforza in tow. At his request he was cremated and his ashes were to be carried out to sea. There was drinking and gaiety for some and for others they were solemn mourning, there was much debate about how Sforza would have wanted to conduct this occasion. Sforza was not known in life to respect tradition but he did place value on them and acknowledge them, somewhat unwillingly, so when it was time for his funeral there were no given instructions for how it was to proceed other than to cremate his body and throw his ashes out to sea. Nobody had ever seen Sforza go to church or worship a god of any sort but he had said that he was not an atheist. It was a large funeral and there were basically no rules since nobody had any idea of his religion or how he would have proceeded with his own funeral. All the units of A-Soul had come to pay their respects to the old man, all the units from the Paradise Devil Unit in the east to the Sakura dance unit in the west. To carry all the members it took three full capacity cruise ships and there were still members that were on shore paying their respects from there. There were choppers following the precession and recording the entire funeral. Every major news network in the world had correspondence there. There were few people who knew Sforza personally, other than his students, and he had no living family to come to his funeral. There were many rumours about Sforza’s life going around on the three ships; questions were being asked about him and his money and most importantly of all, the Snowflakes of the East. The General public had not seen his work yet and in his will he had given instruction to have his entire collection sold, half the proceeds would go to charity and the other half would go to A-Soul for the building of the empire. There was much noise in the area and drinking as well, on the first of the three ships there was the Sound section of A-Soul and there was where most of the noise could be heard, it was a mix of all kinds of music, from Jazz to Techno but the sound was also being drowned by the sound of mourning that could be heard in between the music. The sound of Mourning was coming from the Visual section of A-Soul and on their boat were most of Sforza’s loyal students whose mournful wails could be heard across the sea, it was the darkest of all three of the ships and possibly the most traditional of the ships in their mourning. The third ship housed the Literary section of A-Soul and they were a mix of the mourning of the Visuals and the general chaos of the Sounds, their ship was the brightest of all given that there were many who were inspired by the entire scene in general.  The ship sailed slowly and serenely across the water and now fog was beginning to roll across the sea towards the ships, all three ships began to slow down and then eventually they came to a full stop. With the stop came a silence over all three of the sects of A-Soul and all eyes turned to the Visuals ship. Footsteps were heard and one tall young brown skinned boy came up to the front of the ship where all eyes could see him. He stood at the front of the ship and camera crews took positions all around to get a shot of this boy that had managed to capture the attention of all so quickly. He stood tall and composed, with messy black hair and sleep deprived eyes, his skin was not its normal tone of brown but a lighter, paler shade of brown. He was grieving and it was noticeable. His name was Enzo and he was Sforza’s closest apprentice. He looked over them all and took out some papers from his pocket, and looked over them, and then he cleared his throat and delivered his speech.

“I would like to thank you all for coming to my masters side so quickly” said he “I’m not sure if all of you have ever had the honour of meeting a man as great as my master and now that he is gone I’m not sure that you ever will meet any greater a man than him. Given that you have all come to his side now, I assume that you at the least have some respect for him but not enough of you…I forever curse to souls of all the cowards who did not come to his side today and know his name and for those of you who did not show your faces today and call yourselves members of A-Soul I condemn you to the flames of Hades myself and hope that you and your cowardly soul rot and burn for it!” he spat out. “My master of great memory and so forth, lived a short and sweet life but the gods are cruel and cut him short before his time hath come.” and with this he broke down into tears “Why!? Gods tell me why!? Why do those that are so great have to die!?” he sobbed then his tears of sadness quickly turned to those of rage “In his memory and honor we shall rise up and create a legacy that will remember his name, long as I live his name will be written in the stars, I’ll make the heavens and Earth tremble for it!”.

Clearly he was not reading from his speech and there was dead silence which was surprisingly broken by the quiet literary section, then it was followed by the Visuals and the Sound. The world had seen the anger and passion of A-Soul within one being that night and shortly after the ashes were sent out to sea ceremoniously.

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