Simon
awoke on the floor of his apartment. His phone was ringing but he
never got up to answer it. His head swimming, buzzing with
information or it could be the tequila. Was he drinking last night,
he couldn't remember. Heck he couldn't remember what day it was. He
lifted up his head and glanced around, trying to regain focus
on the task at hand. His head still swimming, as if he was seeing
through his eyes but from a distance. If that made any sense at all,
he thought.
His
cellphone rang this time. He made to move to answer it. His mind and
his body ached and all he wanted to do was sleep now.
Homer
sleep now.
He
chuckled at that thought. A reference to a roughly drawn animated
series had snapped him out of his sluggish state and he reached for
the cellphone.
20131228
Chaos Splatter
Suki
swung around with the butt of the gun, smashing into someone's face.
She could feel the nose turning into mush and hear a bone-jarring
crunch from the impact. It meant that she was ticked off at the
moment. She broke away from her falling assailant's grip and spun
around, kicking up her leg straight into the groin of the other
fellow. The kick was with such power and ferocity that the recipient
would be singing soprano for a long, long time.
Two done. Only forty four more to go.
It was going to be one of those days.
Two done. Only forty four more to go.
It was going to be one of those days.
The Great Convergence
Milton
stood in the line outside the theatre. He didn't usually go to see
plays, but after his meeting with Greg today he felt that things were
changing in his life. That he was going to get a chance to become the
man he always wanted to be. And he had always imagined himself
reading literature and seeing plays. So he had a plastic bag from
Good
Tomes with
copies of Shakespeare and Faulkner inside, and he was waiting to buy
his ticket to a local company's production of an original work called
Constellations.
It seemed fitting somehow. Scorpio was becoming real.
Across the street Susanna checked her watch again. Riveta scanned the traffic walking and driving past.
"He was always really prompt at school," Susanna said.
"Relax," Riveta said, but there was edge to her voice.
As Mayganne rounded the corner she chuckled as she realized that all those uptight and closed-minded groups intent on policing society's morality were right. Playing videogames had led her to a life of crime. Immersing herself in the sci-fantastic world of Citadel she had started believing herself to be a version of the young rogue-adventurer Maus. She knew it wasn't real exactly, she wasn't delusional... But she had started to feel that if she started to think and act and behave like Maus, then in some sort of strange, maybe magical way, she would become her. And that's when the shoplifting started. And when she started picking fights with the bullies at school. Some bloodied lips and pockets full of useless crap later, she felt it taking hold. And so tonight it had been a full-scale break-in. Complete with black clothes and some tools in a satchel.
Susanna wrapped her arms about herself. She was shivering. Maybe since the attack last night at the store. She hadn't been home since. Hadn't called her family or friends or even work to explain why she had run off and left the store a disaster. How could she?
"You'll explain everything when he gets here, right?" she asked the woman who had saved her and damned her at the same time.
Riveta glanced at her cell phone. "I'm hoping someone will..."
The line started to move. Milton took a deep breath of the mild spring air. He imagined himself as the man that he was sure he was going to become, working with Greg Logollos. Imagined being here at the theatre not to simply watch a play, but to meet with an important contact. Imagined being able to read the intentions of those in line by their postures and body language. Scanning the people passing by for movements that hinted at martial arts training or concealed weapons. That girl over there, in the black clothes, half-running, looking nervous, surely she was up to something dangerous, he imagined.
Mayganne had broken the window, the alarm sounding immediately, had smashed some furniture, the whole time being filmed by the security cameras. It was the type of brash and risky strike that Maus would make against an enemy stronghold. The bank was a kind of enemy, she figured. So she was like Maus, but at the same time she knew that she wasn't. She knew that Maus would escape in the Nexus Wave with her sister Kitty and the noble Serisia, with Vlad the celestial barbarian and the mysterious warrior Chem Finder - who she had a crush on. While Mayganne would no doubt be caught by the police. Which is really what she wanted.
She had stood there, shouting at the cameras, "Make me Maus or make me Mayganne!" Because if she couldn't really be Maus, if this world wouldn't allow it, then she was done with this world. They could lock her away.
"No way," Detective Musharef said as he drove through the intersection. "Tell me, is that not the suspect they just put the bulletin out on?" He pointed up the block.
Stone peered ahead. His eyesight was sometimes tricky in the evening, with the city lights kalidescoping around him. "Could be..."
"Susanna!" Mr. Donnelly called from the opposite side of the street. He glanced right and left and braved the traffic.
Riveta slid a hand to the pistol under her jacket; she wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting.
Susanna hugged her former principal tightly, so relieved to see a familiar face. "What's the matter?" he asked her. "You sounded nervous on the message..."
"I'm pulling over," Musharef said. "That's definitely her. Look how freaked out she is. What did they say she answered to?"
"Mayganne?" Donnelly exclaimed as he saw his student jogging past them. She slowed and looked surprised to see him.
Milton saw the suspicious girl stopping by the man and two women. He imagined that the one woman's hand was tucked inside her jacket to be ready to draw a gun.
Musharef slid out of the car, assessing the group that the suspect had stopped by. Stone eased himself out of the passenger seat.
Donnelly looked confused. "What's going on? Who are you?" he asked the serious-looking woman standing beside his former teacher.
Stone's eyes widened. He felt like his heart stopped. "Riveta?"
Then Riveta's cell phone rang. And Donnelly's cell phone rang. And Mayganne's rang. And Stone's. And Scorpio's cell phone rang.
Across the street Susanna checked her watch again. Riveta scanned the traffic walking and driving past.
"He was always really prompt at school," Susanna said.
"Relax," Riveta said, but there was edge to her voice.
As Mayganne rounded the corner she chuckled as she realized that all those uptight and closed-minded groups intent on policing society's morality were right. Playing videogames had led her to a life of crime. Immersing herself in the sci-fantastic world of Citadel she had started believing herself to be a version of the young rogue-adventurer Maus. She knew it wasn't real exactly, she wasn't delusional... But she had started to feel that if she started to think and act and behave like Maus, then in some sort of strange, maybe magical way, she would become her. And that's when the shoplifting started. And when she started picking fights with the bullies at school. Some bloodied lips and pockets full of useless crap later, she felt it taking hold. And so tonight it had been a full-scale break-in. Complete with black clothes and some tools in a satchel.
Susanna wrapped her arms about herself. She was shivering. Maybe since the attack last night at the store. She hadn't been home since. Hadn't called her family or friends or even work to explain why she had run off and left the store a disaster. How could she?
"You'll explain everything when he gets here, right?" she asked the woman who had saved her and damned her at the same time.
Riveta glanced at her cell phone. "I'm hoping someone will..."
The line started to move. Milton took a deep breath of the mild spring air. He imagined himself as the man that he was sure he was going to become, working with Greg Logollos. Imagined being here at the theatre not to simply watch a play, but to meet with an important contact. Imagined being able to read the intentions of those in line by their postures and body language. Scanning the people passing by for movements that hinted at martial arts training or concealed weapons. That girl over there, in the black clothes, half-running, looking nervous, surely she was up to something dangerous, he imagined.
Mayganne had broken the window, the alarm sounding immediately, had smashed some furniture, the whole time being filmed by the security cameras. It was the type of brash and risky strike that Maus would make against an enemy stronghold. The bank was a kind of enemy, she figured. So she was like Maus, but at the same time she knew that she wasn't. She knew that Maus would escape in the Nexus Wave with her sister Kitty and the noble Serisia, with Vlad the celestial barbarian and the mysterious warrior Chem Finder - who she had a crush on. While Mayganne would no doubt be caught by the police. Which is really what she wanted.
She had stood there, shouting at the cameras, "Make me Maus or make me Mayganne!" Because if she couldn't really be Maus, if this world wouldn't allow it, then she was done with this world. They could lock her away.
"No way," Detective Musharef said as he drove through the intersection. "Tell me, is that not the suspect they just put the bulletin out on?" He pointed up the block.
Stone peered ahead. His eyesight was sometimes tricky in the evening, with the city lights kalidescoping around him. "Could be..."
"Susanna!" Mr. Donnelly called from the opposite side of the street. He glanced right and left and braved the traffic.
Riveta slid a hand to the pistol under her jacket; she wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting.
Susanna hugged her former principal tightly, so relieved to see a familiar face. "What's the matter?" he asked her. "You sounded nervous on the message..."
"I'm pulling over," Musharef said. "That's definitely her. Look how freaked out she is. What did they say she answered to?"
"Mayganne?" Donnelly exclaimed as he saw his student jogging past them. She slowed and looked surprised to see him.
Milton saw the suspicious girl stopping by the man and two women. He imagined that the one woman's hand was tucked inside her jacket to be ready to draw a gun.
Musharef slid out of the car, assessing the group that the suspect had stopped by. Stone eased himself out of the passenger seat.
Donnelly looked confused. "What's going on? Who are you?" he asked the serious-looking woman standing beside his former teacher.
Stone's eyes widened. He felt like his heart stopped. "Riveta?"
Then Riveta's cell phone rang. And Donnelly's cell phone rang. And Mayganne's rang. And Stone's. And Scorpio's cell phone rang.
Drama Pauses
For
the past three days Alice had been feeling uneasy. She felt like she
was being stalked or watched but she couldn't see anyone at all. She
went about her work at the diner, always keeping an eye around her.
She couldn't shake that feeling, like the hairs on the back of your
neck sensing that someone is watching you.
Kelly's Diner was busy as the lunchtime crowd were beginning to show up. There were four of them on duty at this moment and the cook in the back was rockin' out to the beat, the radio blasting away as he prepared today's special. Alice began refilling the coffee but the urn was empty. She had a little trouble opening the coffee bag and ended up ripping it in half, spilling coffee onto the floor. A couple of the lads at the counter began to clap.
"You okay, Alice?" asked Connie. Connie had been working here for the past year. "You seem out of it today."
"Yeah," Alice replied as she picked up the broom and a dust pan.
"Just tired I guess."
"Me too," Connie replied. "I couldn't get to sleep last night. You ever have one of those recurring dreams?"
Alice paused for a moment. Something that Connie said made her think. She realized that for the past week now she wasn't having any dreams. None at all, and that was funny since most everyone can remember little aspects of their dreams.
Kelly's Diner was busy as the lunchtime crowd were beginning to show up. There were four of them on duty at this moment and the cook in the back was rockin' out to the beat, the radio blasting away as he prepared today's special. Alice began refilling the coffee but the urn was empty. She had a little trouble opening the coffee bag and ended up ripping it in half, spilling coffee onto the floor. A couple of the lads at the counter began to clap.
"You okay, Alice?" asked Connie. Connie had been working here for the past year. "You seem out of it today."
"Yeah," Alice replied as she picked up the broom and a dust pan.
"Just tired I guess."
"Me too," Connie replied. "I couldn't get to sleep last night. You ever have one of those recurring dreams?"
Alice paused for a moment. Something that Connie said made her think. She realized that for the past week now she wasn't having any dreams. None at all, and that was funny since most everyone can remember little aspects of their dreams.
20131227
Unclearity
Frank
placed the comic book down and stood up. He stretched
to work out the kinks in his body before he walked over to the
food dispenser. He slid a bill into a slot and pushed a
button. Frank watched as the turkey sandwich was shoved
forward and dropped into a little slot. His stomach grumbled a bit in
anticipation of food.
Frank didn't know where the food came from nor did he care. The vendors magically restocked each and every morning. He went over to the coffee machine and pressed the double-cream double-sugar button and a styrofoam cup with a happy face appeared and the liquid poured out. He waited until the last drip before he took the coffee.
"Pretty neat huh?" Angst said. "All this stuff being here for us. As if someone was looking out for us."
Angst had stepped from the subway car and wandered over to the newspaper dispenser; she slipped a coin into the slot and picked out the paper. Today it was the USA Today magazine, yesterday it was Little Feat Chronicle, the day before that the LA Post. Like everything else at 5:59am they renewed.
"Well, at least this coffee is better," Frank said after taking a sip. The coffee was indeed one of the better brands he had tasted in the morning. "That's a bonus."
Angst chuckled a little, though she felt like she was trapped. As if they were on display, like a snow globe on a desk.
"You ever wonder why we stopped here?" Angst asked. She knew the question was a moot point but she wanted conversation. "It's got to be a while now, sitting around and waiting for something to happen. Waiting for an exit to open so we can move on with our merry lives."
"It's day 68 now," Frank said. "We've been caught between shifts like a missing sock in our dryer. But, according to the newspaper it's always the same day over and over again."
Frank didn't know where the food came from nor did he care. The vendors magically restocked each and every morning. He went over to the coffee machine and pressed the double-cream double-sugar button and a styrofoam cup with a happy face appeared and the liquid poured out. He waited until the last drip before he took the coffee.
"Pretty neat huh?" Angst said. "All this stuff being here for us. As if someone was looking out for us."
Angst had stepped from the subway car and wandered over to the newspaper dispenser; she slipped a coin into the slot and picked out the paper. Today it was the USA Today magazine, yesterday it was Little Feat Chronicle, the day before that the LA Post. Like everything else at 5:59am they renewed.
"Well, at least this coffee is better," Frank said after taking a sip. The coffee was indeed one of the better brands he had tasted in the morning. "That's a bonus."
Angst chuckled a little, though she felt like she was trapped. As if they were on display, like a snow globe on a desk.
"You ever wonder why we stopped here?" Angst asked. She knew the question was a moot point but she wanted conversation. "It's got to be a while now, sitting around and waiting for something to happen. Waiting for an exit to open so we can move on with our merry lives."
"It's day 68 now," Frank said. "We've been caught between shifts like a missing sock in our dryer. But, according to the newspaper it's always the same day over and over again."
Trouble with CCGs
Something
about the sun was wrong. He just didn't know what it was but there
was something there, itching at the back of his mind that there was
something amiss. He didn't have a clue what it was yet, but he hoped
to find out soon enough. He closed the curtain to his office and then
sat down at his desk, about to go through some of the official school
business.
"Mr. Donnelly," his secretary chimed in. "Your ten o'clock is here."
"The Petersons?" he inquired. It was a good day to start off a morning by explaining to some parents why their son was being suspended for three weeks.
"Yes sir."
"Just give me two minutes to finish up in here and send them in." Donnelly began to scan through the reports on his desk and to tidy up. Suddenly a card fell out of some papers. He had confiscated Randy Allens' cards earlier that morning since they were playing a game when he should have been learning. Donnelly picked up the one card and looked at it: Max Cube - Interdimensional Being the back of the card stated. He was trying to remember that name, though he chalked it up to what he had overheard.
His eyes widened in shock as he flipped the card over to see a priest standing there holding a gun in one hand and a bible in the other.
The face of the priest looked like him.
The caption was Father Fury. Kicking Ass For The Holy Trio.
"Mr. Donnelly," his secretary chimed in. "Your ten o'clock is here."
"The Petersons?" he inquired. It was a good day to start off a morning by explaining to some parents why their son was being suspended for three weeks.
"Yes sir."
"Just give me two minutes to finish up in here and send them in." Donnelly began to scan through the reports on his desk and to tidy up. Suddenly a card fell out of some papers. He had confiscated Randy Allens' cards earlier that morning since they were playing a game when he should have been learning. Donnelly picked up the one card and looked at it: Max Cube - Interdimensional Being the back of the card stated. He was trying to remember that name, though he chalked it up to what he had overheard.
His eyes widened in shock as he flipped the card over to see a priest standing there holding a gun in one hand and a bible in the other.
The face of the priest looked like him.
The caption was Father Fury. Kicking Ass For The Holy Trio.
Under a Gaelic Moon
Underneath
the starry sky Mayganne lay, her hands behind her head looking up at
the distant twinkle of other suns. She always liked this time of the
night, just so that it was dark and the city itself wasn't sleeping,
just quiet at the moment. It was springtime in the city and the night
was still cool; she lay on the roof of her apartment and had her
digital audio player playing some podcast songs.
The past several days felt strange and weird; it was like seeing something through your eyes but from a distance. It was hard for her to explain it to her mother, brother, or Mr. Donnelly. She had a burst of anxiety the other day at school when she thought she saw a huge black dog patrolling around the school. A sense of dread filled her, she figured it was a Hound Of Ill Omen. Mr. Donnelly rushed out and scared it away as he called animal control from his cellphone.
Things are becoming weird.
Too weird. Still, here at night on the rooftop she cleansed her mind of the past few days' events and looked absently at the stars, remembering weird vague dreams. And she was getting to that final level of the video game that she had usurped from her brother. It was cool and she was glad that she had stumbled upon it. She liked Maus. Somehow she identified with that pixelated character and the storyline as it unfolded.
I'm becoming a gamer.
She sat bolt upright as she heard the howl of a wolf...
The past several days felt strange and weird; it was like seeing something through your eyes but from a distance. It was hard for her to explain it to her mother, brother, or Mr. Donnelly. She had a burst of anxiety the other day at school when she thought she saw a huge black dog patrolling around the school. A sense of dread filled her, she figured it was a Hound Of Ill Omen. Mr. Donnelly rushed out and scared it away as he called animal control from his cellphone.
Things are becoming weird.
Too weird. Still, here at night on the rooftop she cleansed her mind of the past few days' events and looked absently at the stars, remembering weird vague dreams. And she was getting to that final level of the video game that she had usurped from her brother. It was cool and she was glad that she had stumbled upon it. She liked Maus. Somehow she identified with that pixelated character and the storyline as it unfolded.
I'm becoming a gamer.
She sat bolt upright as she heard the howl of a wolf...
20131226
FORGE
The
blood from the cuts along Maggie's arms and back soaked into the
clean white robe. She ascended the steps, through the smoky air of
the temple. Howls and drums and screams and chants and laughter made
music in the dark, twisting tunnels that branched off of the hidden
chamber.
Crow looked down at her from the altar.
Maggie's eyes were cold and fierce, then suddenly sharp and playful. Crow saw the candlelight reflect silver in the blood dripping on the steps.
"You have faerie blood in you," Crow said with mild surprise.
"You're not accusing me of being a vampire are you?" Maggie asked with a smirk.
Crow's look became serious. "The bell is sounding One, I can hear it. It's time. To begin again."
Maggie nodded. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I've done this before."
Crow looked at her with sadness. Maggie wondered what Crow knew about her, and what secrets Crow knew about Max... But that would only lead her to doubt and worry. Turn the stone of the stairs to sand.
Crow spoke. "And likely you will come here again, though it will look and smell and taste different. And hurt the same."
Maggie remembered the time this place was that weird sci-fi womb in the Professor's Study. It had felt like forever when she was inside, and now it felt like forever since she had escaped. The Professor had had coffee waiting for her.
"Each time," she said to Crow, "I've gotten a gift."
Crow nodded. Maggie couldn't easily make out Crow's features in the shifting light of the temple. A young woman. Hair blond then dark. Then older, with long blond curls spilling down her shoulders and back. Then younger again, dark hair short. Eyes playful then wise, innocent then cynical. Sometimes Maggie could see her wings, other times it looked as if fire raged around her. Maggie remembered the wings that once sprouted from her back, or that would one day, that had or would, white or soaked red with blood.
The gift that Crow gave her was one she already knew, had used for years, had lost and found a dozen times in a hundred worlds. But Maggie understood that this place, here and now, was where she first got it. That this was when it was first given to her. And so she recognized it, and welcomed its return like an old, trusted friend, even as her eyes widened in surprise, seeing it newly, for the first time, discovering it, having won it finally. Knowing she would lose it again and find it again. Knowing now where and when it came from, here at this beginning. Here in Death, here in haunted solitude.
From one of his messengers, one of his lessons to her, another gift and a curse too - did Crow belong to him or he to Crow? She imagined finding him again one day and having that answer for him. But she could never do that to him.
Maggie took a breath. The smoke in the air stung her open wounds. Each trickle of blood felt like an ocean. And she knew that they would heal and be never more.
She wondered if Crow had somehow been here each time before. It was easy for Maggie to hate her, for what she knew, for what she had done. Maggie didn't like easy so much. So she had started trying to learn how to forgive Crow and to love her. Maybe that's why she was here again, or maybe this needed to happen. Maybe Crow was making it easier, maybe harder.
Maggie took a breath. She remembered Max warning her about avoiding certain frequencies of thought - only Max would call them that - warning her that they were where the transmissions from the Lab lived. That you could get trapped there. Maggie wondered again what exactly Crow knew about -
She took a breath. All that in the moment that Crow handed her the gift. And it started to shine. Absorbing the candlelight. Becoming bright.
And Maggie's robe was white, her wounds were healed. Her wings spread. Her memories and thoughts were still.
She took hold of her katana.
Crow looked down at her from the altar.
Maggie's eyes were cold and fierce, then suddenly sharp and playful. Crow saw the candlelight reflect silver in the blood dripping on the steps.
"You have faerie blood in you," Crow said with mild surprise.
"You're not accusing me of being a vampire are you?" Maggie asked with a smirk.
Crow's look became serious. "The bell is sounding One, I can hear it. It's time. To begin again."
Maggie nodded. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I've done this before."
Crow looked at her with sadness. Maggie wondered what Crow knew about her, and what secrets Crow knew about Max... But that would only lead her to doubt and worry. Turn the stone of the stairs to sand.
Crow spoke. "And likely you will come here again, though it will look and smell and taste different. And hurt the same."
Maggie remembered the time this place was that weird sci-fi womb in the Professor's Study. It had felt like forever when she was inside, and now it felt like forever since she had escaped. The Professor had had coffee waiting for her.
"Each time," she said to Crow, "I've gotten a gift."
Crow nodded. Maggie couldn't easily make out Crow's features in the shifting light of the temple. A young woman. Hair blond then dark. Then older, with long blond curls spilling down her shoulders and back. Then younger again, dark hair short. Eyes playful then wise, innocent then cynical. Sometimes Maggie could see her wings, other times it looked as if fire raged around her. Maggie remembered the wings that once sprouted from her back, or that would one day, that had or would, white or soaked red with blood.
The gift that Crow gave her was one she already knew, had used for years, had lost and found a dozen times in a hundred worlds. But Maggie understood that this place, here and now, was where she first got it. That this was when it was first given to her. And so she recognized it, and welcomed its return like an old, trusted friend, even as her eyes widened in surprise, seeing it newly, for the first time, discovering it, having won it finally. Knowing she would lose it again and find it again. Knowing now where and when it came from, here at this beginning. Here in Death, here in haunted solitude.
From one of his messengers, one of his lessons to her, another gift and a curse too - did Crow belong to him or he to Crow? She imagined finding him again one day and having that answer for him. But she could never do that to him.
Maggie took a breath. The smoke in the air stung her open wounds. Each trickle of blood felt like an ocean. And she knew that they would heal and be never more.
She wondered if Crow had somehow been here each time before. It was easy for Maggie to hate her, for what she knew, for what she had done. Maggie didn't like easy so much. So she had started trying to learn how to forgive Crow and to love her. Maybe that's why she was here again, or maybe this needed to happen. Maybe Crow was making it easier, maybe harder.
Maggie took a breath. She remembered Max warning her about avoiding certain frequencies of thought - only Max would call them that - warning her that they were where the transmissions from the Lab lived. That you could get trapped there. Maggie wondered again what exactly Crow knew about -
She took a breath. All that in the moment that Crow handed her the gift. And it started to shine. Absorbing the candlelight. Becoming bright.
And Maggie's robe was white, her wounds were healed. Her wings spread. Her memories and thoughts were still.
She took hold of her katana.
Convergence Three
Milton
checked the figures on his sheet and rolled the dice.
"Got it," he said excitedly.
Ayanami nodded from the head of the table, checked her notes. She brushed her blue bangs out of her eyes and fixed Milton with a dramatic stare. "So Scorpio takes the shot and the bullet punctures the panel. Sparks fly... And the steel doors slide open. Everyone make one final health check as the toxins evacuate the chamber."
Shinji made his, as did Milton - and good thing because he was almost out - but Asuka failed hers.
Ayanami continued. "So Aries and Scorpio stay conscious, but you guys still have the action penalty. Gemini passes out."
"I start CPR," Shinji said, rolling the dice. "Got a seventeen."
"I try and keep aim on the doorway," Milton said.
"Alright, Gemini, you get another health check now, at +3 thanks to Aries. And Scorpio, your vision is still a little blurry, but you can make out one of the genetically modified security dogs creeping slowly down the hall. It snarls at you." As Ayanami described the scene, she also passed Milton a note, private character info the other players couldn't hear.
The note said: Scorpio hears a faint buzzing sound inside his head and a staticky voice says 'This transmission is coming to you...'
Milton and some of the other morning commuters had gotten to know each other over the months that they had all shared a car to and from work each day. Milton would often retell the events from his Sunday night gaming group to one or more of the regular train passengers, if he felt that they were in the mood to hear it. He knew they humoured him a lot, and thought him geeky, but they also seemed to enjoy hearing about the ongoing adventures of The Zodiac Squad.
Of course, they had no idea that Milton's gaming group didn't actually exist - that it was something he imagined every night as he fell asleep. A wish-fulfillment fantasy where he played a Role-Playing Game with the characters from the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. Sometimes he would imagine Ayanami or Asuka going home with him afterwards, but mostly he imagined the gaming sessions. He knew it was strange to imagine pretending to be Scorpio instead of imagining actually being Scorpio, but for some reason he couldn't do it. He had this almost superstitious idea that if he started imagining being Scorpio rather than wanting to be him, that he would somehow never actually become Scorpio in real life.
So every Monday morning during the commute by train into the city, Milton Reddings told his made-up stories about made-up stories. Except the bits about sleeping with cartoon characters.
And this Monday morning one of his regular audience members said, "You know Milton, we could always use a guy like you at the company. If you ever get tired of your current job, that is." He handed Milton his business card.
"Thanks Greg," Milton said. He didn't exactly know what it was that Greg did for a living, but he seemed happy and well-paid.
Milton looked at the card. All it said, above the phone number and the name Greg Logollos, was LEGACY.
"Got it," he said excitedly.
Ayanami nodded from the head of the table, checked her notes. She brushed her blue bangs out of her eyes and fixed Milton with a dramatic stare. "So Scorpio takes the shot and the bullet punctures the panel. Sparks fly... And the steel doors slide open. Everyone make one final health check as the toxins evacuate the chamber."
Shinji made his, as did Milton - and good thing because he was almost out - but Asuka failed hers.
Ayanami continued. "So Aries and Scorpio stay conscious, but you guys still have the action penalty. Gemini passes out."
"I start CPR," Shinji said, rolling the dice. "Got a seventeen."
"I try and keep aim on the doorway," Milton said.
"Alright, Gemini, you get another health check now, at +3 thanks to Aries. And Scorpio, your vision is still a little blurry, but you can make out one of the genetically modified security dogs creeping slowly down the hall. It snarls at you." As Ayanami described the scene, she also passed Milton a note, private character info the other players couldn't hear.
The note said: Scorpio hears a faint buzzing sound inside his head and a staticky voice says 'This transmission is coming to you...'
Milton and some of the other morning commuters had gotten to know each other over the months that they had all shared a car to and from work each day. Milton would often retell the events from his Sunday night gaming group to one or more of the regular train passengers, if he felt that they were in the mood to hear it. He knew they humoured him a lot, and thought him geeky, but they also seemed to enjoy hearing about the ongoing adventures of The Zodiac Squad.
Of course, they had no idea that Milton's gaming group didn't actually exist - that it was something he imagined every night as he fell asleep. A wish-fulfillment fantasy where he played a Role-Playing Game with the characters from the anime Neon Genesis Evangelion. Sometimes he would imagine Ayanami or Asuka going home with him afterwards, but mostly he imagined the gaming sessions. He knew it was strange to imagine pretending to be Scorpio instead of imagining actually being Scorpio, but for some reason he couldn't do it. He had this almost superstitious idea that if he started imagining being Scorpio rather than wanting to be him, that he would somehow never actually become Scorpio in real life.
So every Monday morning during the commute by train into the city, Milton Reddings told his made-up stories about made-up stories. Except the bits about sleeping with cartoon characters.
And this Monday morning one of his regular audience members said, "You know Milton, we could always use a guy like you at the company. If you ever get tired of your current job, that is." He handed Milton his business card.
"Thanks Greg," Milton said. He didn't exactly know what it was that Greg did for a living, but he seemed happy and well-paid.
Milton looked at the card. All it said, above the phone number and the name Greg Logollos, was LEGACY.
The Space Between
Frank
sat on the bench on the platform; he was in the middle of a Dirk Pitt
adventure when Goner plumped down beside him.
"Damn this is weird," Goner said.
Frank chuckled because weirdness was all part of the package.
"Getting bored are we?"
"We've been here for days it seems. The train hasn't moved and there is no freakin' exits here."
Frank had thought about that but he really didn't have an explanation at all, but something was definitely wrong. He was way past the point of worrying. He now knew how Neo felt in Matrix Revolutions where he was locked between worlds. If he got a chance he would hunt up that movie and watch it again.
"Don't you find this uncomforting?" Goner asked. "I have a strange feeling as if someone has pissed off the DM."
That's when Frank laughed out loud whole-heartily.
"Damn this is weird," Goner said.
Frank chuckled because weirdness was all part of the package.
"Getting bored are we?"
"We've been here for days it seems. The train hasn't moved and there is no freakin' exits here."
Frank had thought about that but he really didn't have an explanation at all, but something was definitely wrong. He was way past the point of worrying. He now knew how Neo felt in Matrix Revolutions where he was locked between worlds. If he got a chance he would hunt up that movie and watch it again.
"Don't you find this uncomforting?" Goner asked. "I have a strange feeling as if someone has pissed off the DM."
That's when Frank laughed out loud whole-heartily.
20131224
Convergence Two
Detective
Musharef offered to drive. Stone let him. He was a nice enough guy;
Stone wanted to try and make this work.
They talked as they headed towards the crime scene. Musharef had just had a short story published in a magazine. He was about to test for his 2nd Degree black belt in Taekwondo. He volunteered at a local children's theatre company. It wasn't that he was bragging, only that wherever Stone tried to take the conversation, Musharef had an achievement waiting there. He offered them up humbly, as casual points of interest, not badges of honor. All that and the Lt. had said he was a great cop too.
Stone thought about Colleen, about his tour of duty. Thought about his therapy for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Thought about his therapy after Riveta... Thought about Riveta. Wondered where everything had gone. Not gone wrong, or gone right. Just gone.
And he thought about that message on his answering machine. Just as Musharef started telling a story.
"So my girlfriend calls me and says 'Do you remember that dream I had last night?'. She had had this dream about being bitten by a spider and all these baby spiders growing inside her. Now at this point she didn't know I had been invited by my buddy to see the latest Spiderman movie yet. So she tells me how in the novel she's reading while she's waiting at the pharmacy, there's this character who collects spiders. And right then, this little girl who's there with her mom, says, 'Look mom-' and she holds up this tangled bit of string '-I made a spider!' Weird, huh?"
The same pattern occurring at all levels.
We have to find a way out.
A call came in on the police band. "All units be advised. A suspect has been spotted on foot in the Davis-Brockton area, female, mid-teens, brown skin, black hair, goes by the name Meagan."
"That's where we're headed," Musharef said.
"All units please be advised. A large animal, likely a canine, possibly rabid, has also been reported in that area..."
They talked as they headed towards the crime scene. Musharef had just had a short story published in a magazine. He was about to test for his 2nd Degree black belt in Taekwondo. He volunteered at a local children's theatre company. It wasn't that he was bragging, only that wherever Stone tried to take the conversation, Musharef had an achievement waiting there. He offered them up humbly, as casual points of interest, not badges of honor. All that and the Lt. had said he was a great cop too.
Stone thought about Colleen, about his tour of duty. Thought about his therapy for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Thought about his therapy after Riveta... Thought about Riveta. Wondered where everything had gone. Not gone wrong, or gone right. Just gone.
And he thought about that message on his answering machine. Just as Musharef started telling a story.
"So my girlfriend calls me and says 'Do you remember that dream I had last night?'. She had had this dream about being bitten by a spider and all these baby spiders growing inside her. Now at this point she didn't know I had been invited by my buddy to see the latest Spiderman movie yet. So she tells me how in the novel she's reading while she's waiting at the pharmacy, there's this character who collects spiders. And right then, this little girl who's there with her mom, says, 'Look mom-' and she holds up this tangled bit of string '-I made a spider!' Weird, huh?"
The same pattern occurring at all levels.
We have to find a way out.
A call came in on the police band. "All units be advised. A suspect has been spotted on foot in the Davis-Brockton area, female, mid-teens, brown skin, black hair, goes by the name Meagan."
"That's where we're headed," Musharef said.
"All units please be advised. A large animal, likely a canine, possibly rabid, has also been reported in that area..."
Different Name, Same Show
Simon
sipped his tea. His head hurt, it had been hurting a lot lately.
Migraines, powerful ones that felt like his head was going to
implode. He remembered getting these headaches as a child, long ago.
His grandmother would take him in her arms and rock him while singing
a song.
He didn't know what to do. He had stopped taking aspirin, tylenol and other medications since they only seemed to pollute the body with chemicals.
But with these migraines it seemed he was being divulged with massive information, his brain processing images and events that seemed to happen, or didn't happen but he was remembering them as if they did. He winced again.
He picked up his tea and sipped, the liquid felt like heaven as it ran over his taste buds. Green tea was doing the trick.
"You okay, Simon?" Shelly asked. She took the chair opposite him.
"Looks like you're in another world."
"Sometimes I feel like I am," Simon replied. He had closed the notebook in front of him with what looked like a list of items and events and dates, but Shelly couldn't make them out.
He didn't know what to do. He had stopped taking aspirin, tylenol and other medications since they only seemed to pollute the body with chemicals.
But with these migraines it seemed he was being divulged with massive information, his brain processing images and events that seemed to happen, or didn't happen but he was remembering them as if they did. He winced again.
He picked up his tea and sipped, the liquid felt like heaven as it ran over his taste buds. Green tea was doing the trick.
"You okay, Simon?" Shelly asked. She took the chair opposite him.
"Looks like you're in another world."
"Sometimes I feel like I am," Simon replied. He had closed the notebook in front of him with what looked like a list of items and events and dates, but Shelly couldn't make them out.
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