Funeral of a Friend

"We'll find them," Maggie said, breaking into Max's train of thought. He had just dropped a handful of dirt onto the casket and was remembering a time on the subway that had brought a hint of a smile to his lips and water to his eyes.

Max looked from the hole in the ground to Maggie; tears stung his eyes like a foreign substance. He could see that she was taking this harder than he had thought.

"We'll hunt every last one of them," Maggie went on in a very cold and distant voice. She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. She didn't look at the casket in the ground, just the headstone.

"And what are we going to do when we find them?" Max asked. This was a side of Maggie that Max rarely saw; a look of determination, hatred and murderous intent burning in her eyes. At the moment she was like a mother bear who had lost a cub and she was going to get violent.

"Exterminate each and every one of them," Maggie said; her eyes were cold as a lunar sea. "First we'll make them pay."

"I'm in," Frank said. "We knew what we were getting into in this secret war, that there would be casualties. This one hits close to home."

"Count me in too," Goner added. He stepped forward and picked up a handful of dirt and dropped it onto the casket.

"Let's do this," Angst said morosely. She stepped away from the open grave and faced the gang.

Maggie was about to say something but Max's cellphone went off and she glanced to him. Max fished his phone out of his pocket and answered it before the second chime could kick in.

"Yes," was all he said into the phone.

They stood there and watched Max on the phone. They knew it was a vital call; who else calls during a time like this.

"Okay, just give us time to get ready," he said into the phone. And then flipped it shut and turned to his compatriots. "That was the Professor. He got a lead on the Architects' assassins."

Eating the Friday

Frank sat at a table reading a novel. He was behind in his reading of a series of books from an author that he admired, and this downtime was what he needed to catch up. Some quiet time, some coffee. 

His cup of coffee steaming before him, ordered a few minutes previous from the waitress. Goner was drumming his fingers on the table; he was bored and it showed. He didn't know what he wanted to do, and it was getting to him.

"Go to the movies," Frank told him, hoping the suggestion would embed in Goner's brain.

Goner thought about it for a few seconds before answering, the suggestion disappearing into the night like a cheap magician, "Nah."

Frank flipped the page of the novel and sighed. It was going to be one of those evenings.

"Any word from Max?" Goner asked. "He's been gone for a good long time."

Frank ignored the question. He was sure that he had answered that one about an hour earlier.

"Is Maggie showing up here?" Goner asked, his fingers were drumming out a beat. It was starting to grate on Frank's nerves.

"I really don't know," Frank stated. "Think of it as a night off, go and do something constructive with your free time."

Goner glanced around the coffee shop; he really didn't know what to do. It had been steady going for the past three months and now the past three days had been quiet.

"You know a man gets conditioned to certain things," Goner told Frank.

Frank put the book down and looked up at Goner. "Don't make me have to shoot you, Goner."

The Waiting Game

Pretty George stood in the rain, waiting. Like some rock'n'roll god once sang, the waiting is the hardest part. He glanced up at his watch and could see that it was 1 minute past the scheduled meeting.

A grimace appeared on his face, which was rare since he was always in a jovial mood. That meant that one of two things had happened, and the first was impossible since there was no way in hell that someone would not show up.

Once you make a call to Pretty, the wheels are set. 

To make matters worse, some thugs appeared from down the street and saw him standing there with the duffel bag. Pretty George looked up into the night sky and whispered, "You're not going to do this to me now are you?"

He glanced down the street and all his years of dealing and combat training told him that they were going to cause some serious trouble. 

"I guess you made that random encounter roll," he chuckled as he reached inside his long coat and pulled out a squarish device, much akin to a Rubik's cube.

> Connor in Plureality

The bones in Connor’s hand broke into a thousand tiny fragments.  

“Jesus,” Richmond said, “you’re actually a spy… A real motherfucking spy.”  

Connor blacked out then came to, his hand burning like a sun.  

“Fuck are you surprised Rich,” he wheezed, “You’re a fucking terrorist.”  

He blacked out again and Richmond splashed water on his face. “I shouldn’t have broke your hand like that… Fuck, I’ll never get you out of here with you all fucked up like that. I wanted to shoot you… Is that strange? That the first reaction I had was that I wanted to shoot you?”  

Connor gritted his teeth and shifted his body on the floor of the hotel room. “It makes sense to me. Shit you really busted it up.”  

“I need to clean up some of this blood, it’s making me nauseous. Drink this.” He poured Connor some vodka. “Then why didn’t you see it coming?”  

“Fuck Rich, you’re still my friend. I guess I hoped-” He pushed himself into sitting against the couch, shaking, taking the glass, and they both heard the knock at the door. They looked at each other and they knew the look, after years of sitting beside each other in boardrooms making business deals, years of sitting beside each other in bars trying to pick up women, they said to each other with the look that things were about to get very complicated.  

Richmond sighed. “How much do you know?”  

Catch a Falling Star - Wuxia Remix

Max leapt from the building, twirling around in the air and pulling the triggers. Both guns blazing as gravity took hold and pulled him down. Bullets flying at their targets, striking their mark and sending a few mooks to the gate beyond the Netherworld.

The summoning gate was opening on the rooftop and it was going to take more than all the planning in the world for this to work out right. Because if there was miscalculation his body would be hamburger on the sidewalk below, and the world would belong to a demonic lord. 

And that's not going to happen, he thought.

He kept firing, sending bullets along their merry way. It was doing the job, keeping the mooks at bay, making sure they couldn't get a shot off at him. He continued his plummet, the ground calling to him like a mother waiting for a child.

With the last of the bullets spent, he ejected the cartridges, letting go of the guns, and it seemed everything was standing in one spot except it was still falling. He grabbed two more clips from his webbing, to slap into the guns. As soon as the last cartridge slipped into the gun, he felt a tug on his leg.

Maggie was hanging on the side of the building, she snagged his leg and flung him sideways. 

"Love you," Maggie said to him. 

"I love me too," Max said with a smile, as he flew away from Maggie.

"I knew I shouldn't have caught you, smart ass!" Maggie flashed him a smile. "Go get 'em Tiger!"

Frank grabbed him next and started to fling him upwards with all his strength.
 
"Are you putting on weight?" Frank asked him.
 
"Screw you," Max told him as he soared away.

"Nah, Maggie might get jealous!" Frank chided.
 
Max used the Chi to help propel him as well, for he was like one of the bullets being fired outwards. He was sailing upwards, heading back to the roof that he just dropped off, in a move that would be totally unexpected. He did a double-take as Suki was runnng up the side of the building, matching his speed.

"You think you are going to do this without me, eh?" Suki asked.

Rain Game

Thunder rumbled, signaling a storm was approaching. Goner sat in the coffee shop sipping some tea. He hated coffee, and sitting in a coffee house sipping tea was an ironic gesture on his part. Besides, the waitress' here at Good Times, Good Tomes were kind of cute.

Goner drummed his fingers on the table; it was a habit he had developed as a kid and he constantly did it unconsciously. It was an annoying habit but it did help out work out some of the stress.

His cellphone chimed and he answered it.

"Rain game," was all the feminine voice said and the line went dead.

Goner sipped the rest of his tea. He slide a crisp $5 bill onto the table and then made his way to the door.

"Righteous," he whispered after a huge smile consumed his lips.

 

The rain fell; it was a warm rain and the city needed a good cleansing after the past few days of humid weather. Max, Maggie, Frank, Goner, Aqua, Suki, Dex, Wraith, Angst and Lucy were down in park at the courts playing a game of basketball and it felt good.

"You are going down, Cube," Frank said to Max, guarding him. "Nothing gets past this wall!"

"You wish," Max chided. Frank was matching his moves; Max passed the ball to Angst. 

Angst took the ball and deeked passed Goner, who fell for the feint, and she made it to the net. She was in the air, soaring like Jordan to the post, with ball in hand ready for the dunk.

Dexter had jumped up and knocked the ball out of her hand, and it bounced to Wraith who danced up the court.

"Don't make me hurt you," Angst told Dexter as she landed.

"Ahhh, you need a towel?" Dex chided her.

 

Running around like children in a sprinkler, passing the ball, interfering galore and constantly distracting each other, all in the name of the game. The banter, the taunts were there, and it felt like it was a group of old friends gathering for a reunion.

Iterations

Mags yawned and stretched as she walked down the hallway of the space station. Her slippers soft against the white tiled floor. Heading to the kitchen for some coffee, essential after waking from cryo.

She passed by the window to a zero-g room; Callan was floating upside-down in a lotus position. 

She passed by one of the oxygen-factories; Tatterdemalion was staring at the different plants.

She passed by a data station; the Professor was hunched over a keypad. There was a poster for the movie 'Kill Bill' displayed on one screen and a screenshot from 'The Walking Dead' featuring Michonne on another. Maggie stared at the pictures of the women and their swords.

"Um, Professor? What have you been up to?"

Tactical Strategy

"Enigma dancing," Max said into the headset; he was moving along the upper tier looking down into the crowd in the food court, trying to locate the target or targets. Time was ticking away towards a dangerous liaison.

"Rhythm movement is the groove," replied Mags; she was sitting in the food court, sipping on a frosty drink. Her eyes scanning the packages and parcels of each pedestrian as they went by. She leaned forward and tapped Angst on the shoulder and pointed to the man in the red hat.

Angst dropped the magazine she was scanning onto the table and turned to see the fellow walking; he was carrying a large parcel underneath his arms.

"Whose party is this at?" Angst looked up and spotted Max; she nodded to him.

Max stopped and waited. He glanced down at his chronometer and sucked in air between his teeth. They were going to cut this one very close indeed.

"The nurse was outside standing watching," Mags said as she stood up. She could see that the situation was going to get much worse. Angst followed her lead, and stayed close, acting the daughter role.

"Whose father?" Max asked. He stopped at the railing and peered down; it was a 30 foot drop and he was prepared to take it if necessary.

"Underneath the moon we danced like children," said Maggie as she headed to the Lunar Looks Clothing store. She had her frosty drink in her hand and she made like she was heading for the garbage bins, Angst in tow.

"That should learned them," Angst stepped behind Maggie; she was pulling out the Uzi. She knew that time was of the essence here. Any second chaos was going to be born, and many lives would be claimed in the resulting conflict.

"Give me liberty," Max said; he saw Mags and Angst by the bins and he shuffled sideways about 10 feet until Angst nodded. He heard the whine of his clock: time was do or die.

"The heart knows what the mind doesn't," Mags said; she didn't want to do this here and now, but the enemy liked to use tactics such as these. So if a few lives had to be lost to save billions it was worth the risk.

Intruders Here

Mags opened the door slightly and peered out, and saw no one. She noticed that the door across from her door was opened and an old woman was peering out.

"What is it?" the woman asked. "Burglars?"

"I don't know," Maggie said. "But I intend to find out."

Maggie stepped outside into the hallway, her katana ready to strike like a cobra's attack. 

The old woman's eyes widened a little and then she nodded at Maggie. "You be careful now."

"Always am," Maggie replied with a wink. "Call 911, I think there is going to be trouble."

The old woman closed the door and Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't want anything to happen to her neighbour. Maggie made her way down the corridor to the stairway. She could hear the door to the rooftop clank shut, and Maggie made a hike up the stairs.

Two Girls Means a Pack of Trouble

"What you doing?" Aqua asked. She took the seat across from Max. He pulled the earphones out of their sockets.

"Listening to some Seventies music," he replied.

"You're so retro," she said with a smile as she brought the drink to her lips and sipped the sweet allure of alcohol as if for the first time.

"That I am," he said. "I'm a machine reborn."

"Too cool," Aqua replied, placing the drink down.

"You didn't get carded here, did you?" he asked her.

Aqua smiled that smile.

"Yo, Max!" called Angst as she strolled into the bar; she was an angel without wings, a bullet babe. She made heads turns as she strolled through the crowd.

Max nodded to her and continued to sip his pint. He was thirsty. He knew any moment now that trouble would be brewing, as he eyed the college frat boys chugging their drinks and giving him the glances. 

He was sitting with two young women. And this was stirring the patriarchal-possess-the-object-programming of the throng of groin-headed misogynauts.

Morning Delivery

INT. MAGS' APARTMENT - DAY

MAGGIE is dancing with the skill of a professional ballerina, though she is using her katana as well. She is sweaty, looks like she's been dancing for a little while now.

A KNOCK. Maggie stops and grabs a towel, heading to the door. On the way there she puts her katana back in the sheath on the stand.

AT DOOR
Maggie peers thru peephole. Sees a messenger with a parcel. Opens door.

IN CORRIDOR

A MESSENGER has a package wrapped in pink paper tucked under his arms. He holds out a electronic clipboard for her to sign. Maggie takes it and signs.

MESSENGER:
Dora Flora?

MAGGIE
In the flesh.

Maggie hands Messenger a crisp bill then shuts the door. Walking away from door she unwraps package. She finds a business card with a number 555-555 and a slogan on it:

MAGGIE:
(reads)
'Prepare for the future'

Maggie walks to the phone. Reaching out for it. She dials the number. A recorded message, a male voice:

MAN (V.O.):
Let the dice roll.

The phone goes dead. Maggie opens up the pink wrapper. It is a book. She takes it in her hands and looks at it.

MAGGIE:
Feng Shui?

A Pint or Two

They were sitting at a pub called "Rob Roy's", enjoying the evening along with several pints of beer. Max was there, Maggie by his side, leaning up against his shoulder like a school girl deeply in love. Frank, Goner, Angst and Memphis sat around the table, as well.

"Here's to us," said Frank as he raised his glass to the center of the table. "We are the knights true, fighting the fight, living the cool."

"Hear hear," Max said.

The others clunked their glasses to the toast and all took a long pull from the ale they were drinking. And at that moment the ale tasted sweeter than ever. Max thought of how the Greek gods must have felt sitting with their brethren and toasting the world.

"This is great," Angst said. "This has been a long time coming."

"Too long," Maggie added. She squeezed Max's hand and looked him in the eyes. The signals had been sent a long time ago, and the intent of the look was truer today than when they were first sent.

Frank pounded back the pint and signaled the server for another round. Goner nodded at Frank in approval, because who knew when they would have a night like this ever again.

> Natasha in Plureality

Natasha shouldered her way through the line blocking the store entrance.   

“That’s bullshit,” she said to Abhay. “I don’t want to have them staring in at me all fucking shift.”  

Abhay folded the sleeves of the sweater slowly and precisely, eyes focused on the creases. He nodded at Natasha in sympathy. She hopped up the steps behind the counter.  

“What’s worse is that when it’s over they’re all gonna file past the window and some dumb fuck is gonna shout something loud enough and spoil what happens.”  

Abhay gently laid the sweater in the pile with the others. “So basically you’re mad because you want to be in that line tonight?”  

The crystal imbedded in Natasha’s forehead rotated along the Guidance axis and channeled the following: Note how your trajectory crosses then achieves a threatened stasis alongside // Posture #83.