20130805
Morning Has Broken
Max was having a very troubled day. It had been one of those mornings where he wished that he had slept through this reality and awoken in the next. Things were off-kilter and it felt like he was spiraling somewhere, even when he was standing still.
He closed his left eye and he could see straight and that feeling of falling was gone, until he opened it up again. It seemed like his optic nerves had crossed wires. He happened to find a patch to place over his eye.
When he went out the door of the apartment complex he was staying at, a cab zipped by and splashed him with a wall of water, soaking him to the gills.
He grumbled and went back in to change. On the way up the stairs, some kids were moving a sofa and it had blocked the stairwell up to the apartment.
Max took it as a sign that he should go back, so he went outside to continue on his way. In the exact same spot that he had gotten soaked, it was deja vu when another cab came by and did the exact same thing.
Max grumbled to himself.
He stopped off at the corner coffee shop to pick up a coffee and that's when an old lady dropped her coffee cup, and the contents spilled on Max's boots.
"I get it," Max replied to no one in particular.
The old woman turned around with a look of shock on her face.
"I'm so sorry," the woman pleaded; she seemed frightened when she looked at the wet pirate staring back at her.
"Don't worry about it, ma'am," Max told her. "I'm just having a really off day."
He closed his left eye and he could see straight and that feeling of falling was gone, until he opened it up again. It seemed like his optic nerves had crossed wires. He happened to find a patch to place over his eye.
When he went out the door of the apartment complex he was staying at, a cab zipped by and splashed him with a wall of water, soaking him to the gills.
He grumbled and went back in to change. On the way up the stairs, some kids were moving a sofa and it had blocked the stairwell up to the apartment.
Max took it as a sign that he should go back, so he went outside to continue on his way. In the exact same spot that he had gotten soaked, it was deja vu when another cab came by and did the exact same thing.
Max grumbled to himself.
He stopped off at the corner coffee shop to pick up a coffee and that's when an old lady dropped her coffee cup, and the contents spilled on Max's boots.
"I get it," Max replied to no one in particular.
The old woman turned around with a look of shock on her face.
"I'm so sorry," the woman pleaded; she seemed frightened when she looked at the wet pirate staring back at her.
"Don't worry about it, ma'am," Max told her. "I'm just having a really off day."
The Cab Driver
The midnight hour was close at hand when Maggie stepped out of the cab. She paid the cabbie a crisp C-note and told him to keep the rest. The cabbie smiled and then checked to see if the bill was counterfeit.
"It's good," she told the driver.
"Well, you never can be too sure these days," the cabbie replied after tucking the bill into his front vest pocket. "You sure this is the place you want to be?" he asked.
"Yes dad," Maggie replied sarcastically.
The cabbie tipped his hat and pulled away, glancing into the rear-view to see what the girl was going to do.
Maggie grabbed the duffel bag and started walking towards the warehouse. She could hear the sound of music coming from within.
"Dancing," she muttered. "There's a time and a place for it... and now is not the time."
"It's good," she told the driver.
"Well, you never can be too sure these days," the cabbie replied after tucking the bill into his front vest pocket. "You sure this is the place you want to be?" he asked.
"Yes dad," Maggie replied sarcastically.
The cabbie tipped his hat and pulled away, glancing into the rear-view to see what the girl was going to do.
Maggie grabbed the duffel bag and started walking towards the warehouse. She could hear the sound of music coming from within.
"Dancing," she muttered. "There's a time and a place for it... and now is not the time."
> Goner in Plureality
Supercharge
is a code-word for a gravitational blindside, any number of planets may
be involved as may any number of restaurant patrons, subway passengers,
any conjunction of biology, matter, orbits (however erratic) really,
it’s a wave that selects its own medium based on tables and rules that
disappear so far back into antiquity or so far forward into whatever is
next or so far inward it becomes indistinguishable from chance or for
that matter fate, and not gravity exactly but the deeper thing that
looks like gravity, gravity only in the sense that gravity is what pulls
tears down your cheeks, or inevitability in the sense that there’s no
going back from that step off the cliff, not that being supercharged is
something that ever happens to us anymore, do we know for certain either
way, or better yet can we select or at least take part in the selection
process, nominations, secret ballots, debates, of the medium, be a
supercharger, though all on the condition that a supercharged medium is
indistinguishable from a natural hot or cold, high or low, spicy or
mild.
20130804
The Wind Whispering Hints
Like pin-pricks in black velvet the stars began to show themselves in
the twilight, magically appearing as the sun waxed away upon the
horizon. The hum of streetlights began their chorus as they were
programmed to do; night was approaching and the streets needed lights to
keep the evil at a bare minimum.
Mags was standing on the balcony of her apartment; she was dressed in fine regal clothing, an evening dress, her hair pulled back into a bun. The scent of expensive perfume wafted around her like a delicate spark.
The breeze coming in from the north brought a hint of winter to come. But at the moment she didn't want to think about the near future or the past; it was the here and now that she was focusing on. It had been a long time since she had prettied herself up for a socialite occasion.
Right Here, Right Now
Cue Music.
EXT. SPACE - DARK
Blackness.
Fade in just as the vocals start, we get a POV from space and then the camera view is pulled in by gravity. It focuses in on a city, and then zooms right in on MAX CUBE.
POV as the camera orbits around MAX.
MAX is standing on the rooftop, a slight drizzle is falling, he is wearing a long coat, he has his guns out, and he is listening to the song that is continuing to play in the teaser.
His eyes are closed, his head bobbing with the music. A cigarette dangles from his mouth.
CUT TO
Roof door as it opens up.
Knee Shot of feet stepping out onto the roof.
Even though his eyes are closed and he is listening to his ipod he lifts up his right arm and aims towards the door, not pulling the trigger.
VOICE: (calling)
Showtime.
MAX lowers the gun and he flicks open his eyes.
Close up on MAX's Eyes.
They are cold and intense like diamonds on black velvet.
The Innocence of Time
"You got it?" Mark asked. He straightened up as he saw Max come around the corner. He was leaning up against the wall. He felt like he had just come into some big money, and didn't know what to do with it.
Max nodded and showed it to him, then he closed his fatigue jacket. He fished a package of smokes out of one of the many pocketst.
"Alright!" Mark replied in celebrated glee. "So are we going?"
"I think so," Max replied. He unwrapped the cigarette package and offered one to Mark who took one and immediately lit it. Max took one out and closed the pack of Morte and put them back in his jacket pocket.
"Is Crew showing up?" Mark asked, took a long puff from the cigarette, held it in for a few more seconds then exhaled like a pro. "I called his place and his old lady said he was busy doing something or other."
"Beats me," Max said. He lit the cigarette and took a puff.
"Would be a bummer, man," Mark said. "This is our last summer together. We should enjoy it while we can."
"Time is an illusion," Max quipped.
"Lunch time doubly so," Mark added.
A car drove by filled with young ladies, hooting and hollering with the stereo blasting the pop song of the day, some Canadian group with a pop syrupy sound. Max hated it, but the girls in the car seemed to be singing it with joyful glee.
Max nodded and showed it to him, then he closed his fatigue jacket. He fished a package of smokes out of one of the many pocketst.
"Alright!" Mark replied in celebrated glee. "So are we going?"
"I think so," Max replied. He unwrapped the cigarette package and offered one to Mark who took one and immediately lit it. Max took one out and closed the pack of Morte and put them back in his jacket pocket.
"Is Crew showing up?" Mark asked, took a long puff from the cigarette, held it in for a few more seconds then exhaled like a pro. "I called his place and his old lady said he was busy doing something or other."
"Beats me," Max said. He lit the cigarette and took a puff.
"Would be a bummer, man," Mark said. "This is our last summer together. We should enjoy it while we can."
"Time is an illusion," Max quipped.
"Lunch time doubly so," Mark added.
A car drove by filled with young ladies, hooting and hollering with the stereo blasting the pop song of the day, some Canadian group with a pop syrupy sound. Max hated it, but the girls in the car seemed to be singing it with joyful glee.
The Unbearable Likeness of Being Max
"Immobile," Max repeated.
The three hitmen stood around him, glancing at each other. Max stood up and brushed himself off. Thug lowered his gun and shrugged; he really didn't know what to make of the situation.
"What was that?" Thug asked.
"Yeah," Goon emphasized by smacking his fist into the palm of his hand.
"The sum of your victory depends on your mathematical problem solving," Max stated. He gauged the three men, he knew he had the situation well under control, he just wanted to play them. Curious to see how far he could take them.
"Let's quit stalling," Mook said. "Let's do this and get it over with."
"You're immortal behaviour depends on the input of the design," Max told Mook. He could feel the bullet in his arm, working out. He was willing it to dislodge, and it seemed to be working.
20130803
Shifting In, Dining Out
"You going to eat those?" Goner asked of Max. He was pointing at the plate, since he had already wolfed down his hamburger deluxe. His stomach needed to be satisfied.
Max slid over his plate and said, "It's yours."
Max wasn't really that hungry. Just a few fries and that was all he needed to fuel up on. He took the cigarette from the ashtray; it was close to the filter.
Goner attacked the fries on the plate with a fork. He was hungry and he hadn't had a decent meal in days. Max took a long puff from the cigarette and then butted it out in the ashtray.
Angst returned from the washroom and slid in beside Goner. "What's the plan?" she asked.
"I really don't know as of yet," Max replied.
"You think this storm is over?" Angst questioned. They had gone through several shifts in realities in the span of a few hours.
"I really don't know," Max answered honestly.
"I hope that the other team is fine," Angst said. She glanced out the window. The night beckoned to her like an old lover.
Max slid over his plate and said, "It's yours."
Max wasn't really that hungry. Just a few fries and that was all he needed to fuel up on. He took the cigarette from the ashtray; it was close to the filter.
Goner attacked the fries on the plate with a fork. He was hungry and he hadn't had a decent meal in days. Max took a long puff from the cigarette and then butted it out in the ashtray.
Angst returned from the washroom and slid in beside Goner. "What's the plan?" she asked.
"I really don't know as of yet," Max replied.
"You think this storm is over?" Angst questioned. They had gone through several shifts in realities in the span of a few hours.
"I really don't know," Max answered honestly.
"I hope that the other team is fine," Angst said. She glanced out the window. The night beckoned to her like an old lover.
Listening to the Night Surf
The sound of the surf was soothing as it lapped up onto the shore; somewhere a guitar was playing around a campfire and many voices were echoing a chorus. Maggie sat on an outcropping close to the water; she was sitting on her hands and looking up at the stars.
A boat drifted by in the night; its lights were on and the sound of more merriment came across the water. It was, after all, the birthday of a nation and everyone had reason to celebrate. The sound of someone approaching snapped Maggie out of her daydreaming; she turned to face whoever was coming.
"You coming back to the campfire?" a voice asked out of the darkness.
"Not just yet," she replied. "I'm enjoying my solitude here."
"You miss him don't you?" the voice asked.
"Yeah," Maggie said. She turned back to face the water, as tears began to form in her eyes.
A Matter of Music
Suki met Max's eyes and she could see that he was ready for business. The sound of combat still echoed around them, bullets slamming against the concrete walls, chipping away and trying to get through.
"If we are going to do this," he said, "we are going to be doing this my way."
Max ejected the empty clips, they fell to the floor, and he slapped in some new ones. He looked at Suki, who had the Godhammer in her hand, and winked. "Time for some Rock and Roll."
"Time for some J-pop!" she corrected.
"If we are going to do this," he said, "we are going to be doing this my way."
Max ejected the empty clips, they fell to the floor, and he slapped in some new ones. He looked at Suki, who had the Godhammer in her hand, and winked. "Time for some Rock and Roll."
"Time for some J-pop!" she corrected.
Finding an Artifact
Maggie lay down on the rock outcropping; she had binoculars and was scanning the valley below. She could pick up the three forms down at the base of the pyramid. She wished that she had a stronger setting so that should could zoom in and see what was going on.
Beside her on the ground was a map of this section of South America. And there was some hand written notes scribbled along the borders. She was satisfied that the information was indeed correct. She took the items off the ground.
She crawled back from the ledge and stood up. She dusted off her clothes and tossed the binoculars onto the ground. She turned to the duffel bag, knelt and unzipped it.
She took out a mesh vest, her katana, an uzi with a dozen clips, and two Widley Wolfs with several cartridges. She picked up the mp3 player; it was battered and scratched and had what appeared to be specks of blood, now faded to a dark brown. She looked at it, as an archaeologist would do to a rare find.
A tear welled up in her eye, and a soft smile cracked the serious look on her face.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)