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Description
A Proper Story 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bastion

--

Then the Kid sees something stranger still... his mind races.

Did anyone else survive?

Landing on one's face shouldn't be considered an accomplishment by any standards, however amusing his once friends put it, the Kid spitting dirt and grass out of his mouth. One of these days, he'd have to learn how to land properly. The soft grass beneath his fingers was warm and inviting, the sun shining down gently on him as he sat up, glancing around. The Bastion was large, large enough to handle more than a few household's worth of people... but where was everyone? He could hear nothing but the wind caressing the grass gently, a pang of fear striking his chest as confusion gripped his mind. Getting to his feet, he hurried forward, intent on seeing if there was anyone there, anyone that had survived this mess.

His hopes picked up when he saw a figure standing off in the distance, his feet tearing the ground beneath him as he ran, the feeling that he wasn't alone anymore bringing him great joy.

Sure enough... he finds another.

He finds me.

The man before him is clearly wise, his garb suggesting that he had been a possible Mancer, one of the brightest men in the land. His stance suggested that he had been standing there a very long time, perhaps even before the disaster occurred. Had he been living here before then? Perhaps. Bowing his head respectfully, he was almost fearful that he had run into another statue except this one was colored, his fears flying away when the older man spoke. " Hey, Kid."

His deep voice was calm and reassuring, the same as the one that had been speaking to him through the crest the entire time. It suited him, the older and wiser Cael the same darkened skin tone as him, his body weathered through years of hard work and effort. The sad smile on the older man's face was a recent addition, that he could tell, the sorrow hiding behind the man's eyes a story that would take many hours if not days to tell. " Good to see you." he spoke again, the Kid fumbling through his pouch and holding up the crystal barrette, silently asking a question.

The old stranger takes a moment to look at the offered item, sighing. " This is the Bastion, Kid... you made it. But... I haven't seen anyone else since the Calamity." it was a soft letdown, but it stung all the same to the Kid. Only he and the old stranger had made it to the Bastion alive... everyone else was either turned to stone or had something much worse happen to them. Closing his eyes and then massaging his face, the Kid grimaced slowly before gesturing to the city crest on his back. The stranger seemed to get the hint that he wanted the conversation changed and turned to show him the monument in the middle of the floating rock. The place was barren save for the stranger and the monument, it made the Kid even wonder why it was an evacuation center to begin with. Shouldn't there be more in the way of food, shelter, supplies? He didn't get any of it, turning his attention back to the stranger when he spoke again.

" There's a bit of the Bastion's power in that crest... it can point the way to the cores, but getting them will be your job." the stranger said, the Kid mentally sighing. Should have known, more work. That's all he was ever really good for, wasn't it. Just getting sent into places that were neighbors with death to go look for random things or protect something... sighing, he took the core out of his pack and showed it to the stranger, who mentioned something about the monument, the older man bringing him over to show him. There was a hole in the monument, a place to set the core. Wondering what was going to happen, he set the core in the hole, jumping back when the monument started to glow, power pulsing from it as the core released it's power. To the left of him, the ground started to form up into three large landmasses, one of them looking different from the others. It had a small seedling and glowing platform in front of it, the stranger nudging him over to it.

" You can build something here, something to help put the Bastion together." he stated, the Kid staring at the platform before stepping onto it. He remembered the Distillery and the Arsenal, humming faintly. Perhaps he could rebuild these buildings here... and make use of them as a base of operations. It was pretty clear that he was going to be spending his nights here for a while, so why not make use of it? After much deliberation, he settled on the Arsenal for now, the building amazingly springing together without any help from him. The Bastion really did have a life of it's own, and it amazed him. The Arsenal was exactly as how it looked when he entered it in the wharf district, and he gently set the Bow down on a shelf for a later time. He loved every one of the weapons he had found, but for now, he restricted himself to carrying two weapons at a time. The bow had more power than the repeater, but took longer to pull off a decent shot. Pleased, he looked back at the stranger, wondering where to go next.

The stranger led him past the remaining landmasses, showing him the Skyway there, the Kid cringing at the recent memory of landing on his face. " If we can find all the cores and bring them here... we can fix everything." he said with a far-away tone, as if he knew something that the Kid didn't. " Given enough time... the Bastion can fix everything."

The Kid turned and looked back at the Bastion, remembering the frozen faces of Maude the tutor and Rondy the bartender... if he brought the cores back, could he fix everything that happened? It couldn't hurt to try... nodding, he stepped out onto the Skyway, the wind whisking him away to find the next core, the faint hum of the city crest a helpful compass, guiding him to his next destination... the Workman's Ward. As he glided along, he heard the stranger's voice come from the crest again, a soft and simple encouraging sentence.

" Good luck, Kid."

Now he lands at the intersection between Bad and Wrong. Ought to be a core down one of these twisting streets....but which one?"

The ground opened it's arms to greet his face once more, the high pitched yelp that followed echoing in the air as the Kid rubbed his bleeding nose with his bandana, grumbling as he looked around. The Workman's Ward... it was split into four areas, the east area, Scumbag Alley, the Squirt Steppes... and the north area, where the Gasfella Foreman lived. If going by the old names and judging by how his luck had been lately... the core would most likely be near the foreman's area. Still, there was no excuse to not check out the other areas. Might find something nice for the trip. Mulling over it, he decided to check out the east area first, mostly because it didn't sound nearly as threatening as Scumbag Alley.

Climbing the small grassy hill, he took a moment to let his mind wander. The destroyed area he had ran through when he woke up he now knew as the remains of the Rippling Walls. The Calamity, as the stranger had called it, had left a lot of places he once knew unrecognizable. It was a bit worrying, the thought of not only the people, but the places he once knew becoming all twisted. It made his stomach twist with pain at the thoughts his mind was conjuring. Shaking it off, he decided to return to the task at hand. Since it was starting to get late, he settled on grabbing the core from this area, and then heading back to the Bastion for a much needed rest. His stomach still ached from the previous adventure he went on, and his limbs were stiff and protesting. To be honest, he had wanted to stop and take a break when he first reached the Bastion, but he had always been a little bit of an over achiever, and wanted to get another core before sundown.

He only hoped his actions weren't going to make him regret it, continuing up the hill. A small Gasfella and some Squirts were waiting for him on the east side, but the nearby rubble proved to be distracting, so his hammer came out to negotiate with the scenery once more. It was a hard won fight, but having just dealt with several Gasfellas, Squirts and Scumbags at the Wharf District... this wasn't anything new. Plus, they were on the small side, which was easy to inflict great amounts of damage upon and once the rubble had been removed, his repeater could handle the rest of the conversation.

What was surprising though was the appearance of the Forge, but the real discovery was finding that it still worked. If he could rebuild this at the Bastion... he could fine tune his weapons and whatnot, make sure they were fitted for him whenever he went out into the districts, looking for cores. The alloy part he had hung onto would make his hammer shine even better in battle, so he laid down his repeater for now and started the bellows, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work. Luckily, there was a forging hammer still inside, so he didn't have to improvise, the Kid sitting down to work on tempering his own hammer.

He was unaware of how much time had passed until he heard the stranger's voice calling warily from the crest. " Hey Kid... you didn't get hurt out there, did you?" realizing that he hadn't made any real noise since starting work, he grabbed the crest from where he had set it and placed it on his back, moving around the forge again. Once the stranger could hear the familiar sounds of the Kid's movements, he seemed to be more at ease. "Had a little fun in the forge, didn't we?" he asked, the Kid's light chuckle all he needed to hear. Now officially done with his work, he closed up shop, his newly forged hammer held proudly in his hands. The alloy had strengthened it a lot, he felt more confidence when swinging it around, knowing it would get the job done.

The east district had nothing more to offer save for a few carriages with supplies inside, the fruit inside one of them still fresh enough for him to help himself for a brief bit. Mulling on where he should go next while eating, he decided to hit the Squirt Steppes. Children were often brought to visit the area on school field trips, to see the smallest of the windbag family. Wasn't a field trip this time, he had a core to locate. He returned to the main area, glancing around before heading to the steps, bracing himself as the Squirts all tunneled up around him. They weren't too happy about someone intruding their territory, while he wasn't too happy at having to do so. The little windbags charged him left and right, all trying to push him off the ledge or knock him down. He wasn't too eager to find out what happened if and when he fell of the ledge, fighting furiously in return.

Once the main horde was mopped up, he made it a point to hurry along, staring at a rock ledge with a sword laying on it... well, not exactly a sword. Dashing over to it, he picked it up from the ground, running his callused fingers over the edge gently. The War Machete... it had been a favorite weapon of the warriors who they had once been at war with. Their pale skinned neighbor's prowess with the weapon made them respect them as well as their weapon. Now he had one all to himself, and he was going to make good use of it. Swinging it a few times for practice, he was pleased with how it seemed to slice through the air. Wasn't poetry in motion like the warriors... but it was more than enough to slice open anything that a blunt weapon wouldn't fix.

He continued down the Steps until he found a lure of sorts, staring at it blankly. Picking it up and gingerly holding it in one hand, he waved the lure around, jumping when a Squirt came and started playing with it. After a few moments, he had a small school of Squirts following him everywhere, looking dumbfounded. The little windbags were absolutely fascinated with the lure, and he eventually shooed them away before going to Scumbag Alley. He was stalling, really, but the still stinging bruise on his abdomen was encouraging him to explore everywhere before trying to go north, where Gasfellas were KNOWN to live and work.

Four small Scumbags came out of their spots, the tiny Scumbags still as large as him sliding by as he hauled out his repeater, the bolts tearing through the Scumbags quickly. As luck would have it, one of them fell off the rocks, saving the Kid some time as he kicked one aside, the leftover living trash compactors getting in the way as he fought to reach the alley, one spitting rotten waste at him. If he could go the rest of his life without smelling barley and spoiled blueberries, he'd gladly throw down his hammer and be a vineapple farmer somewhere. Swinging his hammer in a circular motion, he knocked one Scumbag off the ledge, grunting in grim satisfaction when another fell to his lifelong friend. When they were little, they weren't that much trouble... but it was the bigger ones that were nothing but trouble.

Just as he was finishing up with the last little one, he wiped the sweat from his brow and then fought to keep his footing as the ground trembled, looking behind him and turning pale at the large blue form lumbering into view.

Speak of the devil...

Then the Kid meets the oldest Scumbag of them all... Gershel.

The Calamity hasn't done much for Gershel's "sunny" disposition.

--

Description
A Proper Story 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Bastion

--

Then the Kid sees something stranger still... his mind races.

Did anyone else survive?

Landing on one's face shouldn't be considered an accomplishment by any standards, however amusing his once friends put it, the Kid spitting dirt and grass out of his mouth. One of these days, he'd have to learn how to land properly. The soft grass beneath his fingers was warm and inviting, the sun shining down gently on him as he sat up, glancing around. The Bastion was large, large enough to handle more than a few household's worth of people... but where was everyone? He could hear nothing but the wind caressing the grass gently, a pang of fear striking his chest as confusion gripped his mind. Getting to his feet, he hurried forward, intent on seeing if there was anyone there, anyone that had survived this mess.

His hopes picked up when he saw a figure standing off in the distance, his feet tearing the ground beneath him as he ran, the feeling that he wasn't alone anymore bringing him great joy.

Sure enough... he finds another.

He finds me.

The man before him is clearly wise, his garb suggesting that he had been a possible Mancer, one of the brightest men in the land. His stance suggested that he had been standing there a very long time, perhaps even before the disaster occurred. Had he been living here before then? Perhaps. Bowing his head respectfully, he was almost fearful that he had run into another statue except this one was colored, his fears flying away when the older man spoke. " Hey, Kid."

His deep voice was calm and reassuring, the same as the one that had been speaking to him through the crest the entire time. It suited him, the older and wiser Cael the same darkened skin tone as him, his body weathered through years of hard work and effort. The sad smile on the older man's face was a recent addition, that he could tell, the sorrow hiding behind the man's eyes a story that would take many hours if not days to tell. " Good to see you." he spoke again, the Kid fumbling through his pouch and holding up the crystal barrette, silently asking a question.

The old stranger takes a moment to look at the offered item, sighing. " This is the Bastion, Kid... you made it. But... I haven't seen anyone else since the Calamity." it was a soft letdown, but it stung all the same to the Kid. Only he and the old stranger had made it to the Bastion alive... everyone else was either turned to stone or had something much worse happen to them. Closing his eyes and then massaging his face, the Kid grimaced slowly before gesturing to the city crest on his back. The stranger seemed to get the hint that he wanted the conversation changed and turned to show him the monument in the middle of the floating rock. The place was barren save for the stranger and the monument, it made the Kid even wonder why it was an evacuation center to begin with. Shouldn't there be more in the way of food, shelter, supplies? He didn't get any of it, turning his attention back to the stranger when he spoke again.

" There's a bit of the Bastion's power in that crest... it can point the way to the cores, but getting them will be your job." the stranger said, the Kid mentally sighing. Should have known, more work. That's all he was ever really good for, wasn't it. Just getting sent into places that were neighbors with death to go look for random things or protect something... sighing, he took the core out of his pack and showed it to the stranger, who mentioned something about the monument, the older man bringing him over to show him. There was a hole in the monument, a place to set the core. Wondering what was going to happen, he set the core in the hole, jumping back when the monument started to glow, power pulsing from it as the core released it's power. To the left of him, the ground started to form up into three large landmasses, one of them looking different from the others. It had a small seedling and glowing platform in front of it, the stranger nudging him over to it.

" You can build something here, something to help put the Bastion together." he stated, the Kid staring at the platform before stepping onto it. He remembered the Distillery and the Arsenal, humming faintly. Perhaps he could rebuild these buildings here... and make use of them as a base of operations. It was pretty clear that he was going to be spending his nights here for a while, so why not make use of it? After much deliberation, he settled on the Arsenal for now, the building amazingly springing together without any help from him. The Bastion really did have a life of it's own, and it amazed him. The Arsenal was exactly as how it looked when he entered it in the wharf district, and he gently set the Bow down on a shelf for a later time. He loved every one of the weapons he had found, but for now, he restricted himself to carrying two weapons at a time. The bow had more power than the repeater, but took longer to pull off a decent shot. Pleased, he looked back at the stranger, wondering where to go next.

The stranger led him past the remaining landmasses, showing him the Skyway there, the Kid cringing at the recent memory of landing on his face. " If we can find all the cores and bring them here... we can fix everything." he said with a far-away tone, as if he knew something that the Kid didn't. " Given enough time... the Bastion can fix everything."

The Kid turned and looked back at the Bastion, remembering the frozen faces of Maude the tutor and Rondy the bartender... if he brought the cores back, could he fix everything that happened? It couldn't hurt to try... nodding, he stepped out onto the Skyway, the wind whisking him away to find the next core, the faint hum of the city crest a helpful compass, guiding him to his next destination... the Workman's Ward. As he glided along, he heard the stranger's voice come from the crest again, a soft and simple encouraging sentence.

" Good luck, Kid."

Now he lands at the intersection between Bad and Wrong. Ought to be a core down one of these twisting streets....but which one?"

The ground opened it's arms to greet his face once more, the high pitched yelp that followed echoing in the air as the Kid rubbed his bleeding nose with his bandana, grumbling as he looked around. The Workman's Ward... it was split into four areas, the east area, Scumbag Alley, the Squirt Steppes... and the north area, where the Gasfella Foreman lived. If going by the old names and judging by how his luck had been lately... the core would most likely be near the foreman's area. Still, there was no excuse to not check out the other areas. Might find something nice for the trip. Mulling over it, he decided to check out the east area first, mostly because it didn't sound nearly as threatening as Scumbag Alley.

Climbing the small grassy hill, he took a moment to let his mind wander. The destroyed area he had ran through when he woke up he now knew as the remains of the Rippling Walls. The Calamity, as the stranger had called it, had left a lot of places he once knew unrecognizable. It was a bit worrying, the thought of not only the people, but the places he once knew becoming all twisted. It made his stomach twist with pain at the thoughts his mind was conjuring. Shaking it off, he decided to return to the task at hand. Since it was starting to get late, he settled on grabbing the core from this area, and then heading back to the Bastion for a much needed rest. His stomach still ached from the previous adventure he went on, and his limbs were stiff and protesting. To be honest, he had wanted to stop and take a break when he first reached the Bastion, but he had always been a little bit of an over achiever, and wanted to get another core before sundown.

He only hoped his actions weren't going to make him regret it, continuing up the hill. A small Gasfella and some Squirts were waiting for him on the east side, but the nearby rubble proved to be distracting, so his hammer came out to negotiate with the scenery once more. It was a hard won fight, but having just dealt with several Gasfellas, Squirts and Scumbags at the Wharf District... this wasn't anything new. Plus, they were on the small side, which was easy to inflict great amounts of damage upon and once the rubble had been removed, his repeater could handle the rest of the conversation.

What was surprising though was the appearance of the Forge, but the real discovery was finding that it still worked. If he could rebuild this at the Bastion... he could fine tune his weapons and whatnot, make sure they were fitted for him whenever he went out into the districts, looking for cores. The alloy part he had hung onto would make his hammer shine even better in battle, so he laid down his repeater for now and started the bellows, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work. Luckily, there was a forging hammer still inside, so he didn't have to improvise, the Kid sitting down to work on tempering his own hammer.

He was unaware of how much time had passed until he heard the stranger's voice calling warily from the crest. " Hey Kid... you didn't get hurt out there, did you?" realizing that he hadn't made any real noise since starting work, he grabbed the crest from where he had set it and placed it on his back, moving around the forge again. Once the stranger could hear the familiar sounds of the Kid's movements, he seemed to be more at ease. "Had a little fun in the forge, didn't we?" he asked, the Kid's light chuckle all he needed to hear. Now officially done with his work, he closed up shop, his newly forged hammer held proudly in his hands. The alloy had strengthened it a lot, he felt more confidence when swinging it around, knowing it would get the job done.

The east district had nothing more to offer save for a few carriages with supplies inside, the fruit inside one of them still fresh enough for him to help himself for a brief bit. Mulling on where he should go next while eating, he decided to hit the Squirt Steppes. Children were often brought to visit the area on school field trips, to see the smallest of the windbag family. Wasn't a field trip this time, he had a core to locate. He returned to the main area, glancing around before heading to the steps, bracing himself as the Squirts all tunneled up around him. They weren't too happy about someone intruding their territory, while he wasn't too happy at having to do so. The little windbags charged him left and right, all trying to push him off the ledge or knock him down. He wasn't too eager to find out what happened if and when he fell of the ledge, fighting furiously in return.

Once the main horde was mopped up, he made it a point to hurry along, staring at a rock ledge with a sword laying on it... well, not exactly a sword. Dashing over to it, he picked it up from the ground, running his callused fingers over the edge gently. The War Machete... it had been a favorite weapon of the warriors who they had once been at war with. Their pale skinned neighbor's prowess with the weapon made them respect them as well as their weapon. Now he had one all to himself, and he was going to make good use of it. Swinging it a few times for practice, he was pleased with how it seemed to slice through the air. Wasn't poetry in motion like the warriors... but it was more than enough to slice open anything that a blunt weapon wouldn't fix.

He continued down the Steps until he found a lure of sorts, staring at it blankly. Picking it up and gingerly holding it in one hand, he waved the lure around, jumping when a Squirt came and started playing with it. After a few moments, he had a small school of Squirts following him everywhere, looking dumbfounded. The little windbags were absolutely fascinated with the lure, and he eventually shooed them away before going to Scumbag Alley. He was stalling, really, but the still stinging bruise on his abdomen was encouraging him to explore everywhere before trying to go north, where Gasfellas were KNOWN to live and work.

Four small Scumbags came out of their spots, the tiny Scumbags still as large as him sliding by as he hauled out his repeater, the bolts tearing through the Scumbags quickly. As luck would have it, one of them fell off the rocks, saving the Kid some time as he kicked one aside, the leftover living trash compactors getting in the way as he fought to reach the alley, one spitting rotten waste at him. If he could go the rest of his life without smelling barley and spoiled blueberries, he'd gladly throw down his hammer and be a vineapple farmer somewhere. Swinging his hammer in a circular motion, he knocked one Scumbag off the ledge, grunting in grim satisfaction when another fell to his lifelong friend. When they were little, they weren't that much trouble... but it was the bigger ones that were nothing but trouble.

Just as he was finishing up with the last little one, he wiped the sweat from his brow and then fought to keep his footing as the ground trembled, looking behind him and turning pale at the large blue form lumbering into view.

Speak of the devil...

Then the Kid meets the oldest Scumbag of them all... Gershel.

The Calamity hasn't done much for Gershel's "sunny" disposition.

--