An Idea I had

I had this idea a while ago. This is how I construct a story.

Here is my character: I figured I'd take this macho marine who happened to like playing such parts as King Arther in small town theaters wherever he was stationed, he was also was a fair farrier and filled his free time with one or another of his private passions.

You are all aware of how close a Recon team can be, so I figured his team mates would be close secondary characters, but these guys have yet to be created.

Then, I thought I'd have my guy suddenly disappear. Of course his pals would go through all sorts of things in order to try to find him (there's a serious lack of information to fill this out though)

In the mean time, my guy would wake up in what seemed like the fifteenth century, lock stock and barrel. He'd be dressed properly (like a land-owner knight) and his castle would be fully staffed with whomever (not sure yet). Heck, I might even give him a league lord and all the rest of the trimmings.

Of course he'd be going nuts trying to figure out where he really is and how to get back, and in the mean time he'd be saddled with responsibilities and decisions to make, and of course the people are going to think their lord is going crazy.

Now I figure all these extras would be actors sworn to secrecy, or maybe people who just like to live that kind of life (haven't really decided yet).

Anyway, aught to be fun, but as you can see, this one needs a lot of research. I'm familiar with military (Army) but not with Marines per se and I'm sure there is some terminology differences to say the least.

Any suggestions would be most welcome

Seetoe's Wings - an idea

The air ship, Cloud Dancer, drifted at the mercy of the winds. The battle had been successful but the cost had been steep. The sails had been swept from the deck and the wheelhouse had been smashed. Of the three-thousand-man crew, easily two thirds of them were dead or out of commission. There were so many wounded, they were being lined up on the deck awaiting the doctor’s decision to see who would see the surgeon next.

Those who had breathed their last into the winds were being sewn into their cloud wings and given to the winds. Their little parachute would carry them into the clouds so their souls could watch over them and keep the winds in their favor. The Cloud Dancer needed all their help today.

One after another the small sails floated away with their burdens, and one after another, the line of bodies waiting their turn continued to grow. Some still breathed, but they would breathe their last into the wind long before they met with the surgeon.

Badly burned and broken, Seetoe was one such body to be consigned to the winds. There was little hope that he would survive, and even if he did he would be little more than a breeder. His was a good bloodline, but he had a brother to carry on. Baycan had a smashed leg, but broken bones could be mended. He’d be as good as new in a few months.

In his turn Seetoe was stitched into the bag attached to his parachute. It looked like a bed he was being stitched into. A thin pillow cradled what was left of his blond curls. The soft blanket was pulled up under his chin and folded down before being secured to the blanket under him. The whole thing was attached to a small parachute in several places. Great care was taken to ensure the comfort of the dead on their last journey.

Baycan saw Seetoe’s fate just as they lifted him to the rail. “No. No. Seetoe, no. He’s not dead yet. No.” And as Seetoe’s body dropped over the rail and the sail billowed, his brother’s cry echoed far beyond the rail. “Seetoe, no!!!”

Somewhere, far beneath the agony, Seetoe heard his brother’s call, but it had little meaning. All he wanted was for the fire to die. By coincidence, he got his wish.

Though designed for comfort, the wings of the dead were not designed for any kind of longevity. Bodies dropping from airships too quickly and they would leave a clear trail to home-port, too slowly and they could be pinpointed and traced back to the ship itself. Therefore, the bodies dropped quickly but slow enough to scatter like seeds on the wind.

Seetoe’s wings designed to grant his wish and he was dropped into a river. The parachute snagged on a bush, holding his head above the surface. Seetoe knew none of this. All he knew was that the fire had been quenched.

<~*~>

“What’s that, daddy?” Kyla asked as she pointed at the rapidly descending something in the sky.

“It’s nothing, Kyla. Where’s your brother? The sun is setting and we must be getting home.”

“Can we go see? It’s going to land just over there. It’s not far out of our way. Can we, daddy, please. I wanna see.”

“You’re too curious,” said her brother, Bant as he came out of the brush with a rabbit.

“Am not. Can we, daddy?”

<~*~>

The chill was starting to seep into Seetoe’s bones, knocking at his awareness. He opened his eyes in a dim effort to sort out the problem. A foggy, fuzzy round face floated in front of him. Puzzled, he wondered at the dark eyes and dark hair. The nut-brown skin wasn’t so strange; everyone had brown skin. The face turned away and a hand gripped his chin. The stab of pain sent him into the dark once again.

<~*~>

“He opened his eyes, daddy; you saw.”

“I did. Those are some bad burns on his face. I’d be surprised if that eye isn’t destroyed. Bant, you don’t know where there’s some Kant sap, do you?”

“Not close. Catch the rope, I’m cutting this branch.”

Though they weren’t able to avoid a minor dunking, they succeeded in dragging the body out of the water. Then they set about turning the body bag into a travois and setting out for home as quickly as they could cover the distance.

Upon reaching home, they took the stranger directly to the chief, and more importantly, the shaman, who was his wife.

Seeing their destination, Kyla, impatient, ran ahead and scratched at the tent flap.

When Sidar opened the flap, she saw the excitement on Kyla’s face. “What is it, Kyla?”

“We found a stranger, he’s burned real bad.” She turned and pointed just as her father and brother came into sight around another tent.

Though Kyla ran back to her family dragging their burden.

Sidar waited. They had to come here before she could do anything anyway; knowing a few moments earlier whether their stranger stilled or not would make no difference.

Seetoe - blond curly hair
Baycan - Seetoe's brother

Kyla - Bant's sister
Bant - Kyla's brother

Sidar - shaman

- - - - - - - -

I'm curious. What do you make of this idea? Where would you take it?

Halfbreed - my latest idea

LESS THAN HALF

My first memories of my mother are really quite dim. She was comfort and security and a full belly. Father was safety too, though a little more distant. He was strength, power, speed and protection - everything I wanted to be. I had a brother and a sister too, but I remember even less about them. They were play.

When we were old enough, it was time to take the trails again. It was too easy to over hunt a single area. It was much better to roam wide and travel fast. That is when my life began to fall apart. Only once was I able to hunt with my mother and my siblings - only when the great eye in the night sky saw fit to look directly at me. The rest of the time I was slow on the run and couldn’t make a kill at all. Even the agile rabbit eluded me most of the time while my brother had the opposite luck; not many got away from him. Anything larger than that was quite beyond me.

As my siblings grew, it was possible to cover more distance between sunup and sunset, but I could not keep up. For a time my mother or my sister would come back and find me, but neither of them could help me cover the distance any faster. A day came when they no longer returned. Some days later, I saw my father. He made it very clear I was no longer to follow. I was no longer welcome in the pack. I was different.

I suppose I always knew it on some level, but I never thought I’d be cast out, shouldered away, left behind. What was I supposed to do now? To be lobo was almost assuredly a death sentence and I did not want to die.

With traveling and hunting the only thing I knew to do, I headed away from my father’s territory. What else could I do? I was not welcome nor was I strong enough to contest the issue and win; I was only a half-grown pup.

Mice and the occasional rabbit filled my belly once in a while, so infrequently though that I took to eating long grass and fat leaves and drinking a lot of water just to fill the gap under my heart. By the time the eye in the night sky saw fit to look upon me I was hungry enough to try for a young deer. When I missed I sat, exhausted and hungry, and howled my frustration and grief to the stars. Why would you make me this way? What did I ever do to deserve being less than half - useless.

But that is the law. There was no use wailing over it. If I wanted to live, I would have to figure out a way. I would have to try harder.

A few days later I came across a rank smell. I remembered from months ago, shortly after starting to travel. Father had sneezed his disdain at the long dead, mostly eaten eater of grass, and he had found the track of the hunter that had left it there. Tracks far larger even than mine. Tracks that smelled almost as bad as the carcass he’d been feeding on not a couple days before.

I was very hungry now, but not hungry enough for that. However I needed to be extra alert for the hunter whose tracks were larger than mine.

I found the tracks at nearly the same moment I found the creature that created them. The tracks were in the soft sand along the river, and the creature was out in the water doing something I’d never seen done before.

Stunned into immobility, I had to watch. This hunter was many times larger than my father, but where my father was black, this one was brown. For the longest time I couldn’t figure out what it was doing out in the river. It wasn’t trying to wash the smell off; my nose had no trouble telling me that. Suddenly it plunged its face down into the water and came up with a swimmer, which it proceeded to shred and consume before discarding the head and the tail. Then it must have spotted me. It gripped the remains of its meal in its mouth and stood up on its back legs.

He stood like me. Never before had I been much like anything. I came closest to being like my father when under the gaze of the eye in the night sky, but even then there were major differences. I was, even during those times, more like this creature. But it was so big. Maybe if I could learn to catch the swimmers, I would get big too. But my lesson in this new form of hunting was over. The big brown hunter dropped to all fours and was gone.

I waded out to where he had stood. I found a few of his discarded prizes caught among the rocks and hungrily tore the rest of the meat off their bones. For the first time my belly was truly full. But catching one of the live ones wasn’t nearly so easy. Three days I tried before being able to scoop one out of the water and many hours later still before getting one out of the water and being able to keep it long enough to kill it and eat it. My first prize, and all my own, I was such a mighty hunter of swimmers. My father would have scoffed in humiliation, but I slept that night with a full belly and dreamed of growing big.

I continued following the river wherever it led, interspersing my hunting for swimmers by chasing the occasional rabbit or squirrel, more to warm up after being in the cold wet water than to actually catch red meat, though I was taught never to waste a hunt and I relished the meat when I caught it. Swimmers, though slippery, were far more abundant.

One night, always on the lookout for a new family willing to take me in, I was tracking another pack under the eye in the sky. Suddenly, I heard a sharp sound echo through the trees and I heard a yelp of pain. A member of the pack had been hurt, but how? Why? I sprinted ahead to answer those questions.

I came upon another hunter I’d never seen before. It was like the hunter of swimmers, the eater of carrion, only it was even more like me. It was only maybe a little bigger than me. It was not facing me. It was facing across the clearing, and there, just inside the trees was the most beautiful she I had ever seen, more beautiful even than my mother. I was a mighty hunter now. I could take care of a she now, but first I needed to protect her.

Then the sound stunned my ears again and the hunter jerked back. At first, I thought something had hit him, the way he jerked, but when the she yelped, I knew it wasn’t so. I looked in time to see her dart into the protection of the trees, but there was blood on her back.

Furious, I attacked. Mother had taught us to go for the neck but the neck on this creature was small and I missed. I knocked him down though, ensuring that the she would get away. I would be able to find her later. Only the sound split the air again, and later sank into painful blackness.

I opened my eyes to daylight and a warmth I hadn’t felt since being shouldered away from my family. I opened my eyes; it was hard, but they finally came open enough to see the blue sky above. The hunter was there and very close, but I couldn’t seem to dredge up enough alarm to get away. He rested a warm hand on my head and the sounds he made were oddly soothing, and the water he dripped into my mouth was very welcome.

This stretch of time was broken and confusing, and very painful. There was a very loud growling noise and a painful vibration, but the hunter’s hand was on mine. Why did I find that comforting, I don’t know. I was so scared. I hurt so much. And in a way, looking at him was like looking at myself in the calm water - different, and yet so very alike. I had never been so ‘like’ anything, not ever.

Later, there was another screaming sound and more painful movement, less vibration though. And still later the screaming sounds were distant, but the closer sounds were a constant rumble and there was so much white all around. So noisy, these creatures, how could they possibly hunt if they were so noisy? But then it all went black again.

When I was able to open my eyes again, it was quiet. The white was still there, but much of the pain was gone, not that I felt much better. I felt heavy and tired, weak like a newborn pup, though I don’t remember what that felt like. Lifting my hand was a chore, but lifting it brought it into contact with the creature from the clearing. He was still here. He must have protected me and brought me here to take the pain away. He was my protector now. I had a new pack, even if it was a pack of only the two of us. Two hunters were always better than one, and we could always find a she. Maybe his pack was larger than I saw and they just weren’t here, wherever here was.

~~~~~

I gotta love my dreams when they produce ideas like this. What the rest of the story is, I haven't a clue yet. Maybe you have an idea. Please, feel free to offer any suggestions.