Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
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Kiskaloo
Officer_Charon
Alfisti
Robert Frazer
ElfenMagix
Professor Voodoo
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Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Sometimes you've got a great idea for a scene, but for whatever reason it just doesn't fit into anything you're working on.
May this thread be a repository for all these ideas that might otherwise fade away unused.
To start things off I offer this:
Angelica was already gone by the time Marisa came on-line, but Elio did have one face to face meeting with her. This scene occurs during the worst of her struggles with declining health & problematic memory, which is same the time Elio was in an alcoholic tailspin after the death of his first cyborg, Marina.
May this thread be a repository for all these ideas that might otherwise fade away unused.
To start things off I offer this:
Angelica was already gone by the time Marisa came on-line, but Elio did have one face to face meeting with her. This scene occurs during the worst of her struggles with declining health & problematic memory, which is same the time Elio was in an alcoholic tailspin after the death of his first cyborg, Marina.
- Spoiler:
The delicate porcelain tea cups that sat on their own high shelf in the sitting room were, in Angelina's humble opinion, the loveliest thing in the house. They were not round like an ordinary cup, but 6 sided with delicate creases which evoked the petals of a flower. Expertly painted by hand, each one was different, yet equally perfect. They never came down off their shelf, even when her parents had important guests over for tea.
It seemed a shame to Angelina that these beautiful cups never got dusted anymore...at least not since Mommy & Daddy had dismissed the housekeeper who used to take care of things like that. "Maybe I should dust them" the girl considered. After all they were very important to both of her parents...and such things should be taken care of. "Maybe, Angelina thought, "if I started doing some of the housework Mama wouldn't be so angry all the time." She fetched the foot-stool out of the closet...it was just high enough for her to reach the shelf...and very carefully took the first of six cups down. She was delighted to hold it in her hands; the fine porcelain seemed almost impossibly thin.
Angelina gave a giggle as Perro rushed over to the sitting room window and began barking at another dog on the street. It did not seem like an angry bark, but rather just a courteous afternoon hello from dog to dog. Soon he would rush from the sitting room to her parents bedroom to continue barking as the outside dog rounded the corner to the other side of the building. Perro could always make her laugh, even when she was having a bad day.
Turning her attention back to the tea-cup the girl smiled and ran a soft cloth across it. She lingered over it for a long time, lovingly studying every exquisite detail. Just as Angelina reached to put it back on the shelf and take down the next one Perro came charging through on his way to the bedroom. He bumped the footstool, and to Angelina's dismay the tea-cup slipped from her fingers. She watched in abject horror as it fell in slow motion and in a hopeless effort to catch it she lunged, tottering off the stool. The beautiful tea cup shattered into a thousand tiny pieces on the hard wooden floor, and Angelina landed heavily right next to the shards.
No sooner than she heard the crash Angelina's mother rushed into the room, shouting and cursing when she observed what her worthless daughter had done. "I'm sorry!" the girl wailed, "I was only trying to help!" She dared not mention Perro bumping her off the footstool...Mama was likely to send him away just like she had done with the housekeeper and the cook, and Angelina could not bear that.
"You clumsy, stupid child!" snapped Mama, "Get over here!" She grabbed Angelina by the ear and dragged her to her feet. "That was a complete set!"
"I'll pay for it!" cried the girl, although she had no idea how...she had no money.
Mama scowled and yelled at her "You can't replace a thing like that...it was over a hundred years old! One hundred years, Angelina...and it took only one second for an idiot like you to destroy it!" She grasped her daughter's hand and rapped her knuckles fiercely with a wooden cooking spoon. "You just wait until your father gets home and hears about what you've done!"
"Please don't tell Daddy!" she pleaded in a tearful panic.
Her mother scoffed "Don't act more stupid than you already are. Do you actually think he isn't going to notice this? That set could have brought a small fortune complete...but instead it's ruined. How much do you think it's worth now? Merda."
Angelina shut her mouth and wept silently when her mother mentioned money. It had always seemed before that the family had plenty of it, they owned a big home and plenty of nice things, but recently all Mommy & Daddy had done was fight about money. The cook had been the first to go...then the housekeeper, leaving Perro as the only one in the house who was still nice to her. She feared he would be the next to go.
Daddy always came home from work angry these days...it was useless to hope that he would be in a merciful mood tonight. Once her mother had finished shouting at her Angelina went looking for Perro. She just wanted to sit with him for a while...bury her face in his soft fur and feel his wet tongue lick her hands. If she could only sit with Perro for just a few minutes she could feel a little better.
She searched the entire room, and then walked down the long sterile halls under flickering fluorescent lights. She passed through glass doors and down a concrete path that led across vast, dark lawns, all the time looking for Perro. Banks of slow moving fog drifted across the dark, dreamlike place but Angelina was not scared. She came to a building that looked familiar, but she did not know why. Walking up the stairs she found herself in a hallway filled with closed doors. Maybe Perro was in here somewhere.
At first Elio ignored the sound thinking it was only a figment of his drunken imagination, but when it came again he could not deny the soft knock on his door. He set down the lab report on his dead Marina's autopsy and rose to see who was bothering him at this hour. Alboreto felt he was walking straight & true, but his whole office disagreed, wobbling unpredictably. "Stupid goddamn walls" he muttered to himself, fumbling for the door.
Elio blinked a few times when he saw no one at his door, but a thin voice made him look down. "Mister," a dark haired girl asked softly, "have you seen Perro?"
"Ferro?" he asked the girl "I'm sorry, I think she's gone home for the night."
"No, Perro" she insisted, "he has white fur and a black nose."
Awww shit, thought Alboreto, this one's the prototype...what's her name? She has no idea where she is. The cyborg had to be brought back to the hospital, but that was a long walk for someone as intoxicated as he, and he was in absolutely no condition to drive, even one of the Kawasaki Mule utility vehicles. Elio knew he had to call the switchboard and get the on-duty doctor over here.
The dark haired girl continued talking; "I just wanted to sit with Perro for a little while because Mama yelled at me and hit me on the hand with her spoon even though I only broke the tea cup on accident, and Daddy is going to give me a whipping when he gets home...and I just want to sit with Perro for a little while but I can't find him..." She was trembling all over & tears pooled up in her eyes.
"It'll be okay lass" he said softly, "we're going to find somebody to help you." Elio reached out and put his hand on her shoulder, but the instant she felt his touch the girl's whole demeanor changed.
"Why am I here?" she asked in a different voice. She looked down at the pale green gown she wore and said "I'm supposed to be in the hospital."
Alboreto looked at her curiously and inquired "Do you know where you are now?"
"This is the handler's office building" she replied, still looking confused.
"Angelica!" barked out an irritated voice.
As she turned her face took on an aspect of relieved delight. "Marco! I was just talking to this man and...why am I here? I'm supposed to be in the hospital."
The burly ex-policeman walked over and stood next to her. Elio explained "I think she woke up and started sleepwalking. It sounded like she was experiencing a flashback to her former life."
"I see" muttered Angelica's handler, "I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my cyborg alone while you're in this condition."
"Easy, tough guy" growled Alboreto, "she came knocking on my door."
"You're drunk as hell" Marco snapped, "these girls are conditioned to respect & obey all Agency staff...what do you suppose they think when they see you like this?"
The older man scowled and took a step forward. He'd seen plenty of self-righteous hard-asses over the years. This one stood a few inches taller than him, and was easily 15-20 years younger, but he saw no reason to back down. "Maybe if you kept a closer eye on your trainee we wouldn't have this problem" Elio hissed.
Marco was about to retort angrily but they were interrupted by a soft, tremulous voice; "Please don't fight."
Even drunk as he was it took only a fraction of a second for Alboreto to recognize the warning signs of a cyborg about to snap. He took a long step back away from Marco to show that he was not a threat to her handler. The younger man noticed this and revised his on-the-spot assessment of the drunken man. This guy is clued in...maybe he does have something to offer. The ex-NOCS man softened his tone and explained "Look, she's having difficulties with her conditioning and sometimes these episodes just happen. If she ever seeks you out again just give me a call and I'll take care of it." He offered a card with his mobile phone number on it, which Alboreto accepted with a nod to indicate no hard feelings. "Come on, Angelica" said Marco. As the fratello turned to walk down the hall Angelica chirped "Have a good night sir!" and flashed Elio a smile that was so full of innocent honesty that it nearly caved in a portion of the old man's heart. He walked back inside his room, closed the door and corked his bottle of scotch before going to sleep.
Professor Voodoo-
Forum Posts : 3428
Location : Hudson Valley, New York
Fan of : That one guy who was only in one episode & didn't have any lines.
Original Characters : Marisa/ Elio Alboreto
Comments :
Registration date : 2009-11-10
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
That was great, Voodoo.
Funny, Rachel and Fernando knows how to fly (her learning on gliders) but I never used that aspect of their abilities yet.
Funny, Rachel and Fernando knows how to fly (her learning on gliders) but I never used that aspect of their abilities yet.
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Honestly, Voodoo - that's perfect. You've just cut through and pinned down the character exactly. It's enviable, it really is.
I doubt that it can compare, following on from that, but this is a 'downtime' segment between missions where Avise is called out on his family history that doesn't really fit with the mood of any of my upcoming stories.
I doubt that it can compare, following on from that, but this is a 'downtime' segment between missions where Avise is called out on his family history that doesn't really fit with the mood of any of my upcoming stories.
- Spoiler:
- Ferro spat an aspish tch! with a prick of her lip. "Do you know how disgusting it is to drink milk from the carton?"
"Hey," Avise tipped his head towards Ferro with a conspiratorial wink and a sly smile, "drinking from the carton is a privilege of bachelorhood."
Ferro laughed - but it wasn't the light, bouncy tingle of shared humour springing from one body to another; rather the mutant, shrill, falsetto burst of strangled hysterics, a cackle hissing out from under pressure. Appreciating the laugh but confused by the form it took, Avise continued to smile but a distant, glazed look of unfocused confusion passed over his eyes. "Hold on, Milani, I never pretended to be Joe Avati."
"Oh, no," Ferro sighed, rubbing her throat and shaking her head to conduct out the quivers running through her, "It's not comedy. I'm just ringing, clear as bell. I suppose that it's what you might call an epiphany."
Avise couldn't tell what insight Ferro had gleaned like a shaft of emotive summer through the iron-grey clouds of her clipped persona, but he was worldly enough to infer that she hadn't lighted on a compliment. He, with exaggerated deliberateness, put the carton down on the sideboard (the formica material prevented any square solid certain thunk, but the gesture was clear enough) and turned to face Ferro. "Do you have something to say, Milani?" He said simply.
"Actually, yes." Ferro straightened up, her eyes the porcelain blue of a sheer face of ice. "I should remind you, Mancini, that I have access to your personnel file. I should correct you on the proper form. You are not a bachelor" - the acid from the word spattered and hissed into the floor between them - "you're a widower."
"I beg your pardon." It was not a question, not a curled hook of pointed indignation - it was a statement, flat and level. A formula. Weapon at rest, cock weapon, weapon at ready, shot over their heads, weapon at ready - fire into crowd.
"It just seems to me that it's no great hardship." Ferro explained her perspective on the face that Avise had presented. "That you appreciate the convenience."
Ferro's neck cricked back a degree as Avise was now looming above her. "Milani." He said. "Does that personnel file - that document - that scrip of bureaucracy. Does that splatter of ink on paper give you the slightest" - the word slipped out like a stiletto from a sleeve - "inkling as to what I have been through?"
The blade chinked off of Ferro's smooth, ceramic, still eyes. "Mancini, do you really, honestly, truly think" - the steel-glint of inspiration shone on an even more hurtful word - "believe that she killed herself just to spite you?" Ferro's shoes clacked a parade-pace forward until she and Avise were touching, her head tipped and angled under his like the twist of the knife, while he had to press his chin down against his neck to maintain eye contact. After a transfixed second of watching the crimson tear glister down from where she had pricked him, she shoved the dagger in an uncoiled release of violence. Deep candidness blossomed out through her clipped tones. "You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"
A shudder ran through Avise - whether a heave of laden burden he mounted onto himself, or a slump of bleeding quality flowing out of her wound, Ferro could not say - but it trilled electircally against Ferro's skin through her blouse. There was a creak, and after a moment she realised that it was not him - or her - stepping back, but his fists clenching, and unclenching, at his side.
"I am a Christian man, Milani." Avise's voice cracked like crushed cartilage and sawn gristle.
Ferro stepped back quickly - not smartly - and her shoes snapped towards the galley door. As she gripped the lever of the handle. Avise's voiced called out again.
"Ferro?"
She twisted her neck back around.
"You don't know all my secrets." Avise's cocked gaze rolled around the galley, lingered for a moment on the cutlery thorning the drying rack by the sink, and then swivelled down and zeroed on her. "Not by any means."
Ferro nodded in acknowledgement and clicked the door behind her.
Well, that was that.
One job done.
Work to do!
Ferro set up a brisk pace back towards the Section Two office - no more time to fritter away on frivolities after all. Her shoes traced a pace on the hard floor, then pattered a beat, than rang a rafale. Feeling breathless from such worthwhile exercise and proactive exertion, she threw her hands to her throat to massage more air down it, and realised that she was rank with sweat.
Last edited by Robert Frazer on Tue 7 Dec 2010 - 3:34; edited 1 time in total
Robert Frazer-
Forum Posts : 1156
Location : The Green and Pleasant Land
Registration date : 2009-02-24
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
That's good to know. How is Fernando with helicopters? I needed a chopper co-pilot for Giuseppe in one episode and came up dry so I just eventually gave the front passenger seat to Avise Mancini and had him humming Wagner and not touching anything.ElfenMagix wrote: Rachel and Fernando knows how to fly (her learning on gliders) but I never used that aspect of their abilities yet.
Can we expect an aerial adventure from these F&R soon?
Damn! I feel like I'm rank with sweat after that one! You've really given Ferro some claws here...I wonder what kind of context you were considering to set up an attack like that (although, that may have been why it didn't fit in anywhere else).Robert Frazer wrote:this is a 'downtime' segment between missions where Avise is called out on his family history that doesn't really fit with the mood of any of my upcoming stories.
Short though it is this scene lives up to your reputation for complex, metaphor filled prose.
Professor Voodoo-
Forum Posts : 3428
Location : Hudson Valley, New York
Fan of : That one guy who was only in one episode & didn't have any lines.
Original Characters : Marisa/ Elio Alboreto
Comments :
Registration date : 2009-11-10
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Excellent idea Voodoo, particularly since...
Great little bit of writing on a number of levels, firstly the look a Angie's family's declining financial situation through the eyes of a child. The little markers like the cook and cleaner being dismissed. I wonder if her parents were always that horrible, or if it is at least in part stress.
@Robert
Gonna have to back Voodoo here in wondering what happened in order for Ferro to bring the claws out. While she's definately "no bullshit" I'd never pictured her as catty or truly nasty. However, from the last few lines I gather there was good reason for it and that she was putting Avise in his place for one reason or another. Some unsolicited advance perhaps?
As usual Robert I have epic difficulty picking holes in your work, or, for that matter; isolating parts for praise. Because what I really want to do is throw the whole thing in a quote box with a "" emoticon behind it.
...it would have been a real shame to let that go to waste.Professor Voodoo wrote:Angelica was already gone by the time Marisa came on-line, but Elio did have one face to face meeting with her. This scene occurs during the worst of her struggles with declining health & problematic memory, which is same the time Elio was in an alcoholic tailspin after the death of his first cyborg, Marina.
Great little bit of writing on a number of levels, firstly the look a Angie's family's declining financial situation through the eyes of a child. The little markers like the cook and cleaner being dismissed. I wonder if her parents were always that horrible, or if it is at least in part stress.
Tiesto has done less smooth transitions then this. Sorry, but it's the only way I can describe how well you blended Angie's memories and imaginings into the SWA environment. You know the change happened, you're just not sure when.She searched the entire room, and then walked down the long sterile halls under flickering fluorescent lights. She passed through glass doors and down a concrete path that led across vast, dark lawns, all the time looking for Perro.
Indeed, how dare they spin like that... especially when you're too drunk to stand straight as it is.Alboreto felt he was walking straight & true, but his whole office disagreed, wobbling unpredictably. "Stupid goddamn walls"
That just cracked me up.Awww shit, thought Alboreto, this one's the prototype...what's her name?
Nice, from memory Marco was lashing out at pretty much everyone during that time period, so having him soften in the light of Elio's perception is a good way of setting up the personalities of each character and, moreover, Elio's competency.The younger man noticed this and revised his on-the-spot assessment of the drunken man. This guy is clued in...maybe he does have something to offer. The ex-NOCS man softened his tone and explained "Look, she's having difficulties with her conditioning and sometimes these episodes just happen. If she ever seeks you out again just give me a call and I'll take care of it."
@Robert
Gonna have to back Voodoo here in wondering what happened in order for Ferro to bring the claws out. While she's definately "no bullshit" I'd never pictured her as catty or truly nasty. However, from the last few lines I gather there was good reason for it and that she was putting Avise in his place for one reason or another. Some unsolicited advance perhaps?
I did enjoy this bit of bravado out of Avise, fitting for his character and, more importantly perhaps, sets the whole scene up for the fall and fury later on."Hey," Avise tipped his head towards Ferro with a conspiratorial wink and a sly smile, "drinking from the carton is a privilege of bachelorhood."
Well, yeah... but in the best way possible"You really are full of yourself, aren't you?"
As usual Robert I have epic difficulty picking holes in your work, or, for that matter; isolating parts for praise. Because what I really want to do is throw the whole thing in a quote box with a "" emoticon behind it.
Alfisti-
Forum Posts : 5880
Location : A Town by the Sea, NSW Central Coast, Australia
Fan of : Triela, Hilshire, Priscilla, Ferro
Original Characters : Jethro + Monty
Comments : If in doubt, overdress.
Registration date : 2009-07-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Fernando's been know to barrow (without permission) Old Nessie... An old NYPD Patrol chopper based on the Bell 47 unit used in the 1970s-80s. Its now mainly used for training of police Aviation Patrol Pilots, and should be retiring soon. One time he barrowed it with an empty fuel tank and had to land it in the middle of Flatbush Avenue... Cursing out God, everything under existence and and the officers who handcuffed him for shutting down 1/2 of Brooklyn. Least to say, his supervisor was not happy about it either.Professor Voodoo wrote:That's good to know. How is Fernando with helicopters? I needed a chopper co-pilot for Giuseppe in one episode and came up dry so I just eventually gave the front passenger seat to Avise Mancini and had him humming Wagner and not touching anything.ElfenMagix wrote: Rachel and Fernando knows how to fly (her learning on gliders) but I never used that aspect of their abilities yet.
I would assume he's humming Flight of the Valkyries...?
Its in the works. But when remains to be seen.Professor Voodoo wrote:Can we expect an aerial adventure from these F&R soon?
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
However, from the last few lines I gather there was good reason for it and that she was putting Avise in his place for one reason or another. Some unsolicited advance perhaps?
Well, I don't really know, which is part of the reason why this is a scene that doesn't fit anywhere else! When Avise is "clenching and unclenching his fists" in that scene, he's debating whether or not to snap the impudent Milani's scrawny pencil-neck like a twig... although I suppose it could be the foreplay to some furious back-clawing head-hammering crushing passionate hatesex, depending on the sort of the story it ends up being slotted into.
Robert Frazer-
Forum Posts : 1156
Location : The Green and Pleasant Land
Registration date : 2009-02-24
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
I'll buy that for a dollar
Officer_Charon-
Forum Posts : 1472
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Registration date : 2010-09-16
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Admittedly I saw it as possibly the other way around, in that perhaps Avise had done something that Ferro was unimpressed with. Hence she was stomping on him before it went to far.Robert Frazer wrote:However, from the last few lines I gather there was good reason for it and that she was putting Avise in his place for one reason or another. Some unsolicited advance perhaps?
Well, I don't really know, which is part of the reason why this is a scene that doesn't fit anywhere else! When Avise is "clenching and unclenching his fists" in that scene, he's debating whether or not to snap the impudent Milani's scrawny pencil-neck like a twig... although I suppose it could be the foreplay to some furious back-clawing head-hammering crushing passionate hatesex, depending on the sort of the story it ends up being slotted into.
Alfisti-
Forum Posts : 5880
Location : A Town by the Sea, NSW Central Coast, Australia
Fan of : Triela, Hilshire, Priscilla, Ferro
Original Characters : Jethro + Monty
Comments : If in doubt, overdress.
Registration date : 2009-07-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
The closest I have is the opening of a story idea titled "Ni Hao [你好]" (Hello) that would have had a really hot Chinese intelligence agent visit Rome to cooperate on a mission to take down one of the Chinese Triads operating in Milan...
----------------
Michele and Kara stood at a gate inside the Terminal C satellite of Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino airport and watched an Air China Boeing 747-400M taxi into position and stop. Kara turned to survey the terminal as the jetway connected to the plane and her head snapped back as she heard Michele’s sharp intake of breath.
She returned her focus to the jetway doors as a young and beautiful Asian woman in a black A-Line dress with a wide, square neckline and black leather dress boots walked off and into the gate area. Her nearly waist-length black hair fell down her back and forward over both shoulders and her flawless skin glowed and her brown irises gleamed.
She made eye contact with Michele and a smile crossed her face. Kara reached for Michele’s hand and she could feel his accelerated heart-rate. The woman walked forward to Michele.
“Mister Pagani?” she asked, and Michele nodded.
“幸会,” she greeted in Mandarin, bowing effortlessly at the waist. “I am Mei Lau with the People's Armed Police Force, Interpol liaison division,” she said in fluent Italian.
“幸会,” Michele replied and Kara caught the faint stress in his pronunciation. “This is Kara Michelle, also with the Intelligence and Democratic Security Service.”
Kara bowed in greeting.
“You are Asian?” Mei asked.
“Japanese,” Kara replied. “I met Michele while a student at the University of Milan and decided to become a member of the Intelligence services.”
Michele had studied Mei’s file and knew that she was a Shang Wei in the PAPF (equivalent to Capitano in the Carabinieri). He also knew she was 27 and in addition to speaking fluent Italian, she also knew French, German and English. Upon graduation from middle school at age 18, Mei attended four weeks of military training prior to entering Peking University. She majored in International Law and Criminology and while at university learned of the Italian school of criminology put forward by Cesare Lombroso and his disciples Enrico Ferri and Raffaele Garofalo. She’d travelled to Europe during her studies and visited many famous universities in Italy, France and Great Britain. Upon graduation, her linguistics and foreign relations skills funneled her to service with the People's Armed Police and she enlisted as a Shao Wei (Sottotenente) assigned first working with the Hong Kong Police and Macau Security Force and then later moving into the Interpol division.
“Are you armed?” Michele asked.
“My weapon is in my checked baggage,” Mei replied.
“Are you still using the Type 77?” Michele asked.
“In general, yes, though I’m one of the first people using the new QSW-06,” she replied.
“That’s the one that fires 5.8x21mm, correct?” Kara asked.
“Yes. It uses a high-velocity armor-piercing round to defeat body armor. Once in the body, the bullet yaws violently which creates a larger and more grievous wound track then a 9x19mm round.”
“Ah. It reminds me of the 5.7x28mm ammunition Henrietta’s FN P90.”
They boarded the “Skybridge Shuttle” tram to Terminal C and proceeded to Passport Control. Michele led her through a door into a room designed for use by diplomats visiting Italy or the Holy See. Michele showed the Polizia di Frontiera agent his identification and the agent stamped Mei’s service passport and they proceeded on into the terminal proper and Baggage Claim. Mei retrieved her suitcase and Michele used his credentials to waive them through Customs.
From there, they made their way to a special section of the multi-story parking area reserved for government officials. Kara removed a key-fob from her jacket and pushed a button. A few cars down, the lights of a metallic dark gray Maserati Quattroporte Executive GT blinked and the doors unlocked.
Kara strode forward, opening the back passenger door for Mei, who thanked her as she sank into the luxurious leather seat. Michele slipped in beside her through the left door as Kara moved to the driver’s seat.
They pulled out of the airport onto the A91 into Rome.
When they arrived at the Compound, Ferro escorted Mei to meet with Pieri Lorenzo and Jean Croce.
“I knew I should have taken the Interpol Entrance Examination,” Hilshire noted after Ferro and Mei were out of sight.
Triela moved to kick him in the shins, but missed and hit the edge of the solid oak desk Michele moved in to replace the cheap government issue crap. She proceeded to hop on one foot, holding the other in her hands and cursing up a storm under her breath.
----------------
Michele and Kara stood at a gate inside the Terminal C satellite of Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino airport and watched an Air China Boeing 747-400M taxi into position and stop. Kara turned to survey the terminal as the jetway connected to the plane and her head snapped back as she heard Michele’s sharp intake of breath.
She returned her focus to the jetway doors as a young and beautiful Asian woman in a black A-Line dress with a wide, square neckline and black leather dress boots walked off and into the gate area. Her nearly waist-length black hair fell down her back and forward over both shoulders and her flawless skin glowed and her brown irises gleamed.
She made eye contact with Michele and a smile crossed her face. Kara reached for Michele’s hand and she could feel his accelerated heart-rate. The woman walked forward to Michele.
“Mister Pagani?” she asked, and Michele nodded.
“幸会,” she greeted in Mandarin, bowing effortlessly at the waist. “I am Mei Lau with the People's Armed Police Force, Interpol liaison division,” she said in fluent Italian.
“幸会,” Michele replied and Kara caught the faint stress in his pronunciation. “This is Kara Michelle, also with the Intelligence and Democratic Security Service.”
Kara bowed in greeting.
“You are Asian?” Mei asked.
“Japanese,” Kara replied. “I met Michele while a student at the University of Milan and decided to become a member of the Intelligence services.”
Michele had studied Mei’s file and knew that she was a Shang Wei in the PAPF (equivalent to Capitano in the Carabinieri). He also knew she was 27 and in addition to speaking fluent Italian, she also knew French, German and English. Upon graduation from middle school at age 18, Mei attended four weeks of military training prior to entering Peking University. She majored in International Law and Criminology and while at university learned of the Italian school of criminology put forward by Cesare Lombroso and his disciples Enrico Ferri and Raffaele Garofalo. She’d travelled to Europe during her studies and visited many famous universities in Italy, France and Great Britain. Upon graduation, her linguistics and foreign relations skills funneled her to service with the People's Armed Police and she enlisted as a Shao Wei (Sottotenente) assigned first working with the Hong Kong Police and Macau Security Force and then later moving into the Interpol division.
“Are you armed?” Michele asked.
“My weapon is in my checked baggage,” Mei replied.
“Are you still using the Type 77?” Michele asked.
“In general, yes, though I’m one of the first people using the new QSW-06,” she replied.
“That’s the one that fires 5.8x21mm, correct?” Kara asked.
“Yes. It uses a high-velocity armor-piercing round to defeat body armor. Once in the body, the bullet yaws violently which creates a larger and more grievous wound track then a 9x19mm round.”
“Ah. It reminds me of the 5.7x28mm ammunition Henrietta’s FN P90.”
They boarded the “Skybridge Shuttle” tram to Terminal C and proceeded to Passport Control. Michele led her through a door into a room designed for use by diplomats visiting Italy or the Holy See. Michele showed the Polizia di Frontiera agent his identification and the agent stamped Mei’s service passport and they proceeded on into the terminal proper and Baggage Claim. Mei retrieved her suitcase and Michele used his credentials to waive them through Customs.
From there, they made their way to a special section of the multi-story parking area reserved for government officials. Kara removed a key-fob from her jacket and pushed a button. A few cars down, the lights of a metallic dark gray Maserati Quattroporte Executive GT blinked and the doors unlocked.
Kara strode forward, opening the back passenger door for Mei, who thanked her as she sank into the luxurious leather seat. Michele slipped in beside her through the left door as Kara moved to the driver’s seat.
They pulled out of the airport onto the A91 into Rome.
When they arrived at the Compound, Ferro escorted Mei to meet with Pieri Lorenzo and Jean Croce.
“I knew I should have taken the Interpol Entrance Examination,” Hilshire noted after Ferro and Mei were out of sight.
Triela moved to kick him in the shins, but missed and hit the edge of the solid oak desk Michele moved in to replace the cheap government issue crap. She proceeded to hop on one foot, holding the other in her hands and cursing up a storm under her breath.
Last edited by Kiskaloo on Tue 24 Oct 2023 - 15:47; edited 1 time in total
Kiskaloo- A Cat of Many Talents
-
Forum Posts : 10984
Location : Seattle / Tokyo / Milan
Fan of : Angelica's Smile
Original Characters : Kara Michelle
Comments : The community's international man of mystery.
Registration date : 2008-09-11
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Kisk, that ending was funny.
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Here is a scene I wrote when I was writing Solution's Resolution, but it seemed not to fit anywhere in any of the current stories of the time.
To end this scene, Rachel would come out and help put away the glider in a rented hanger.
- Spoiler:
- Another long day at the Comprensorio Volovelistico Alpi Orientali (Italian Glider Club), and Rachel was getting tired. Though Fernando took flight a couple of times in those engineless wonders, it was Rachel who was up there most of the time learning local terrain and VFR practice in the already crowded skies with as many as ten other gliders in their airspace. Then there was those earning their pilots license in actual planes some 5 kilometers behind them though all sharing the same runway in this secluded airport just miles from Lake Nemi.
Down on the ground at the end of the runway was Fernando, keeping an eye on the white and light blue silent craft. A couple of women walk up to him, both wearing weekend attire. Almost by procedure, they walk around him and stop in front of him to make sure that he sees them.
“Hello, Priscilla, Ferro. What brings you here?”, Fernando asks.
For a moment they turn away from him and look up to around where he was looking at, finding five gliders in high altitude flying.
“Which one is Rachel?”, Ferro asks.
“That one, the White and Light Blue one.”, Fernando says as he points a glider circling around, slowly losing altitude.
“The chief wants to throw a mission at you two…”, Ferro continues as they follow Rachel’s glider as she straightens out to fly to the far end of the airfield.
“If its not a nuke terror mission then I will have to refuse.”, Fernando tells her.
“At least hear me out.”, Ferro tells him.
A tiny voice breaks out in Fernando’s hand, where he kept his tiny Yeasu VX-2 Two-Way Radio tied to the airport frequency, “This is NGX-375 Requesting for landing”
“NGX?”, Ferro asks. “This is not an Italy Registered aircraft?
“It’s a loaner from a friend of mine back in the states.”, Fernando begins to explain. “Instead of hiring an instructor pilot and rent out a glider, I brought my own for her to fly.”
“NGX-375, permission denied until traffic ahead of you has cleared. Please hold into traffic pattern Alpha.”, a male voice says in the radio.
“Isn’t a X-numbered aircraft an experimental aircraft?”, Priscilla adds to the conversation.
“It a homebuilt aircraft, my friend made it, took him five year to complete it.”, Fernando answers.
“Tell them to hurry up, I have to go to the bathroom!”, Rachel yells from inside the radio.
Priscilla refrains from laughing, though Ferro was not happy about the comment, “How dare she say that to an authority figure.”
“She is up in the air for over four hours, and she should have came down an hour ago.”, Fernando tries to cut her some slack. “Another day of this and she gets her glider license.”
“Anyways. The chief is requesting for a simple mission. In fact, it can be used for Rachel to finally get her license.”, Ferro started to say.
“NGX-375, you are cleared to land.”, the control tower instructs. “We apologizes, we lost track of your flying time.”
“Its about time!”, Rachel almost yells.
“Explain.”, Fernando says.
“The chief wants you two up in Tuscany, for an areo-recon mission over several suspected Padania member vinards.”, Ferro explains.
“And how it involves gliders?”, Fernando asks.
“The Tuscany Glider club flies in those skies. We can send you there as a retail seller for a new glider you would fly.”, Ferro asks.
“A new glider? I doubt they would be interested in buying a glider. Don’t they have enough of their own?”, Fernando comments.
“This glider has its own micro-jet so you wont need to rent a two plane to get you up in the air.”, Ferro explains.
“I’ll think about it.”, Fernando says as Rachel’s glider finally touches down and rolls off the runway to its designated stop not too far from where Fernando stood. The canopy pops open as they walked to the aircraft. Rachel runs out to the bathroom by the control tower building. The instructor slowly makes his way out of the plane. “How well she did?”, Fernando asks.
“She did well. She just has to take her written test again, see if she improved with experience, and a solo flight for her to get her license.”, the instructor says.
“Good.”, Fernando says.
The instructor goes to the airfield administration building to finish the day’s flight instruction papers and grade them accordingly. Fernando lifts the glider by the tail and spins it about 180 degrees.
To end this scene, Rachel would come out and help put away the glider in a rented hanger.
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Addition, in fact, this section was to fall about 1 weeks time of chapter 31 in Solution's Resolution; when Fernando and Ferro were discussing glider schools/clubs for Rachel and in Chapter 32 when Fernando and Marco was talking about the subject as well.
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
This thread hasn't gotten much love lately, so here's something I whipped up during a long offshore job whe I was seperated from my Suzuki.
Riding to Work
Although it had been a difficult & annoying ride getting out of the city Michele Pagani immediately cast off any regrets about taking his bike to work as soon as he escaped the confines of Rome. There existed an 18 kilometer stretch of wide open sweeping turns, steep hills and even a few first-gear hairpins on his route to the SWA Special Operations compound, a length of road to which the Polizia were infrequent visitors. As the last patches of morning fog burned away Michele did his best to explore the performance limits of his MV Agusta F4 Tamburini, grinning in his helmet to find that the bike's capabilities far exceeded his own.
Coming up on each corner at well above the posted limit, careful to avoid the remaining damp patches on the pavement, Pagani squeezed the front brake lever gently to scrub off speed, not fully releasing it until he passed the apex and rolled back onto the gas. The front end lifted ever so slightly, pushing him wide so he shifted his weight forward to keep the chassis balanced as the motorcycle straightened and picked up speed. 120kph...140...160...180...the Agusta accelerated with a ferocity that would have inspired the envy of any four-wheeled vehicle in his stable and the howl that emanated from four separate exhaust canisters under his seat made him disappointed that he eventually had to roll off the throttle. At this speed the next turn came up fast, this one a tight left-hander so Pagani dropped down two gears and let the engine braking provide assistance to the powerful Brembo calipers up front. Feeling playful he gave the bars a yank and allowed the front wheel to rise up on exit, riding a graceful power wheelie until he had to toe the rear brake in anticipation of the next corner.
That was all the high speed fun he was to have that morning; as Michele crested the next hill he spotted a familiar yellow Vespa in his path. Rather than exploit the immense power & speed advantage of his 998cc four-cylinder superbike to pull off a pass he fell in behind Priscilla for the final two kilometer ride to work, following close behind her pink helmet. The Intel analyst was keeping up a rather good pace in spite of only having a 150cc single cylinder engine beneath her.
At the gate, as Michele waited his turn to show his ID, he heard the sound of another bike behind him. Glancing in his mirror he saw Elio Alboreto's big Ducati ST4S roll up and gave a welcoming wave without turning around. This trio of Italian motorcycles seemed to sing together as they made the short trip to Section Two's parking lot; the cheerful ringing of Priscilla's two-stoke single, the 4-cylinder snarl of Michele's own mount and the booming pulse of Alboreto's V-twin creating a music that suited the clear morning perfectly. It seemed a shame to shut the engines down when they cruised into the complex together and parked together in one spot, but the morning staff meeting would not wait forever.
Priscilla was the first to get her helmet off. "You surprised me, Michele, I was expecting to get sucked into your vortex" she joked.
"I'd had my fun for the morning" Pagani replied with a shrug. "You were keeping a pretty good pace...I wonder how you'd do on a proper motorcycle."
This time it was Priscilla's turn to shrug. "None of my friends away from work ride...but I admit I've lingered near the bike shop windows, daydreaming about a Ducati Monster 620 or an Aprilia Shiver 750."
Victor Hillshire had arrived just a few minutes earlier and joined the conversation with a suggestion of something German. "A BMW F800 might work well for you..."
"Yeah, they're nice" she sighed, "but I've already got a German car." She ran her fingers over the iconic curves of her Vespa PX150 and continued "For a bike I really feel motivated to have something stylish & Italian." The two other handlers, owners of MV Agusta & Ducati cycles tried their best to contain smug grins.
Rolling his eyes Hillshire admitted defeat. "I'll never understand it. We Germans build a machine that's a triumph of engineering & reliability and you Italians still choose the thing you know is going to break down three times in the first month because it looks sexier." He directed his last jab at Pagani, asking "Is your F458 back from the shop with the new non-flammable glue yet?"
"It was covered under warranty" grumbled Michele, determined not to let his colleague get under his skin so early in the morning.
"So what about it guys?" Priscilla steered them back onto topic, "If I do buy a bigger bike I don't want to go riding all alone. Do you two ever go out riding together?"
Pagani just laughed, and motioned to Elio to begin the story. "We tried once" the half-Englishman grumbled with a grin of his own. "Michele here had just gotten his F4 and was eager to take it out for a good long run, and it was a nice day for it...but it was a work day. We knew Ferro would pitch an unholy fit if we knocked off early to go riding."
"So we signed out under the auspices of conducting a recon survey" Pagani contributed. "We got in about 300 good kilometers but then my upper back just started killing me."
"Yes," agreed Alboreto, "as mind-numbingly fast as his MV Agusta is, it makes a very poor touring mount. We switched bikes for a while so he could rest a bit on my bigger, roomier ST4S but we only got another 80km before we decided to stop for one beer."
"Unfortunately the friendly between Liverpool FC & Juventus was on in the bar..."
"Which the Reds took 2-1 in double-overtime" injected Elio.
Michele continued "...so we stayed for a more than one. Since it went double overtime we ended up having a few too many and decided it wasn't smart to ride back. As calling home and letting Ferro know we went out and got loaded on our recon survey was not optimal I called Kara." As if on cue, Pagani's cyborg showed up at his side to wish him good morning before heading her session at the outdoor range. "I left a message with her room-mate that she was to grab my keys and a pre-signed pass from my office and come pick us up...unfortunately the message got a little screwed up."
"Ilaria screwed it up!" Kara defended herself, "I followed your instructions to the letter as I understood them!"
"Yes," muttered Michele, "so an hour later Kara pulls up at the taverna...on her own Ducati 848."
With everyone laughing Kara protested "All Ilaria told me was that you two went out on motorcycles and wanted me to meet you at some address! I just assumed you wanted me on a bike too."
Alboreto finished. "So Kara ended up staying and having a few drinks with us and eventually we had to call Ferro for a ride. Ye gods, she gave us hell for a whole month after that."
"On that note, you have to get your butt out to the range," Michele told Kara, putting his arm around her and giving a good-luck kiss on the forehead. "And we've got the morning staff meeting in 5 minutes" said Elio. "See you inside."
Professor Voodoo-
Forum Posts : 3428
Location : Hudson Valley, New York
Fan of : That one guy who was only in one episode & didn't have any lines.
Original Characters : Marisa/ Elio Alboreto
Comments :
Registration date : 2009-11-10
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
That was fantastic. Just the thing to start my day with a smile.
Kiskaloo- A Cat of Many Talents
-
Forum Posts : 10984
Location : Seattle / Tokyo / Milan
Fan of : Angelica's Smile
Original Characters : Kara Michelle
Comments : The community's international man of mystery.
Registration date : 2008-09-11
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Very nice!
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
This was meant to be used in a flashback sequence when the girls are hiding out at a friend of Bernardo’s.
- Spoiler:
- Halloween Party Scene part 1
“Do we really need to do this,” Triela groused fixing her hair into twin ponytails.
“Quit your complaining, you know you like it,” Claes shot back at a blushing Triela as she worked on inserting red contacts into her eyes.
“I do not,” Triela shot back.
“Please you’re only saying that because Hillshire complained about your choice of costume.” Claes replied with a smug grin. Go ahead and be Fate, I’m the one who gets to look more adult anyway.
“I didn’t have a choice, remember,” Triela shot back. Stupid Claes she’s just jealous she couldn’t be Fate. I have the better body for it anyway.
“Please we all know that Fate is your favorite character,” Claes replied.
“I just wish Priscilla had her uniform from Strikers, why she had this around laying around I have no idea,” Triela said pulling her cape around herself.
“You want to wear her shin sonic form costume. I didn’t think you wanted that kind of attention from Hillshire,” Angelica added joining the girls in front of the mirror looking her long hair dyed pink and done up in a complex ponytail. Marco said this is a big event I wonder if Patricia will be there.
“I don’t,” Triela screamed storming out of the bathroom.
“What’s wrong with Triela she smells normal today,” Beatrice asked entering the communal bathroom.
“She’s not a fan of her costume,” Angelica said.
“But she told me she really wanted to be fate because she has a dark past and kicks major ass. She even named her shotgun bardiche-chan,” Beatrice replied.
She what….. Oh you’re never going to live this down. Claes fell to the floor laughing unable to contain herself any longer. What’s next asking for a pet dog named arf.
“That’s not very nice, Claes,” Angelica scolded the laughing girl. “I happen to remember a certain girl who looked up everything she could about vectors and electricity so she could understand a certain manga better,” Angelica ribbed.
Wait she remembers that shit… “Alright, you win,” Claes said knowing the teasing Triela would give her for her own secret reading stash.
“Come on, let’s go you two, or I’ll be forced to befriend you,” Henrietta called out as she barged into the bathroom.
“Alright we’re coming,” Claes shuddered giving her costume a final look over as Henrietta ran out. “Do you realize just how disturbing it is for Henrietta to say that,” Claes said.
“Yes but she hasn’t had any must protect Jose moments in a while,” Angelica replied.
“True, but why did we have to give her the fictional counterpart to her own propensity for going overboard.” Claes said.
Both girls repressed a shudder at a disturbing mental image before looking each other in the eye. “We never speak of this again, agreed.”
It was an interesting site to say the least as the girls and their handlers gathered on the agency steps. Halloween was not a major holiday in Italy but it had been growing in strength with the younger generation. As such the girls were invited to a special Halloween/ birthday party in thanks for saving the life of a senator’s daughter. The top brass caught wind of the invitation and ordered the entire agency to attend incase the Padania decided to stage an attack plus it would be a chance to see how well the cyborgs could interact with girls their own age. Never one to give up a chance to engage in her favorite hobby, Priscilla quickly convinced Lorenzo that it would be easier if everyone dressed as a theme this way if they were needed at the party it would be easy to find them. So here they were dolled up as the cast of Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha A’s waiting for a group picture to document the occasion before the mission began.
“I can’t believe you of all people went along with this,” Jose asked his brother scratching his head as the dam wig drove his scalp crazy.
“Yeah,” Jean replied staring at Priscilla and Ferro as they setup Henrietta’s camera for a group photo.
“My all business I can’t rest until it’s over brother, is dressed up for a Halloween party,” Jose said as the girls lined up in front of them.
“Yeah, Halloween, party, costumes,” Jean replied his eyes glazed over as Ferro sauntered over to the pair.
“Jean, your nose is bleeding,” Ferro gasped quickly blotting his nose with tissues.
Still dazed Jean accepted the tissues admiring the way her costume accentuated her exquisite figure giving her a wild almost feral look. Wow, Ferro is a lot more like her sister than she gives herself credit for.
“Ok, everybody,” Priscilla called out as the last of the girls lined up, before sliding up next to Hillshire wrapping an arm around his waist.
“What are you doing,” Hillshire stammered.
“Acting in character, what else,” Priscilla giggled pulling him closer as the camera flashed.
Hillshire gulped daring to look down at the slim for pressing up against him. Wow who knew she was that well endowed.
“Like what you see,” Priscilla said pulling him closer.
Either way I’m screwed, knocked out by Triela’s fist, or Priscilla’s charm. Hillshire preferred the later despite the possible fallout.
Last edited by crazyidiot78 on Wed 9 Nov 2011 - 2:08; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : changed font color to make it visible)
Guest- Guest
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Great contributions Crazyidiot78, Professor Voodoo, Elfenmagix, Robert Frazer, Kiskaloo.
I enjoyed how each scene brought out something different, as I read them submerging myself in each scenario and dialogue among the people involved. In short, I likes it!
(although I gotta say it)
AGHH! Professor V, you're killin' me! Your 1st contribution made me all melancholy an stuff, so much so that afterward I had to intake large quantities of Cheese, Chocolate and Chicken just to pick me up again!
(washed down with plenty of store-brand soderrrr, that always gets me going )
When I 'saw' through your writing, hapless Angie wandering lost in her past, arriving at Elio's room, who himself is also lost in his anguish/stupor, I couldn't help but feel as though something other than mere chance was taking place, helping the little girl reach his door. I felt as if there was some one or something greater than the individual players of this sad drama directing each one to that focal point, so that a greater understanding of what it means to be alive can be had.
My mind seemed to expand reading your short but none the less powerful contribution.
Then again, I was snorting too much Vicks Vapor Rub again...........
No seriously though, great work.
I enjoyed how each scene brought out something different, as I read them submerging myself in each scenario and dialogue among the people involved. In short, I likes it!
(although I gotta say it)
AGHH! Professor V, you're killin' me! Your 1st contribution made me all melancholy an stuff, so much so that afterward I had to intake large quantities of Cheese, Chocolate and Chicken just to pick me up again!
(washed down with plenty of store-brand soderrrr, that always gets me going )
When I 'saw' through your writing, hapless Angie wandering lost in her past, arriving at Elio's room, who himself is also lost in his anguish/stupor, I couldn't help but feel as though something other than mere chance was taking place, helping the little girl reach his door. I felt as if there was some one or something greater than the individual players of this sad drama directing each one to that focal point, so that a greater understanding of what it means to be alive can be had.
My mind seemed to expand reading your short but none the less powerful contribution.
Then again, I was snorting too much Vicks Vapor Rub again...........
No seriously though, great work.
Last edited by tremec6speed on Wed 9 Nov 2011 - 19:55; edited 1 time in total
tremec6speed-
Forum Posts : 2037
Fan of : Lauro and Olga!
Original Characters : Vinson/Helen/Salvatore + Gunther/Ayden. Baddies are a small group of 'techno-anarchists'
Comments : I hope to include a short illustrated fanfic story of both Mr. Yutaka Aida's characters as well as some I've come up with.
Registration date : 2009-08-25
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Are you really sure it's a good idea to give her something with more power? Something tells me that, at least fanon wise: Priscilla falls into the "mad Italian" school of driving.Professor Voodoo wrote:"I'd had my fun for the morning" Pagani replied with a shrug. "You were
keeping a pretty good pace...I wonder how you'd do on a proper
motorcycle."
I take it that one went a little better than the 1985 game..."Unfortunately the friendly between Liverpool FC & Juventus was on in the bar..."
Either way, Jethro would have been happy to see The 'Pool win.
Excellent piece of fluff (and I mean that in the nicest way possible) mate: made waiting for someone's delayed plane at the airport today much more bearable.
Alfisti-
Forum Posts : 5880
Location : A Town by the Sea, NSW Central Coast, Australia
Fan of : Triela, Hilshire, Priscilla, Ferro
Original Characters : Jethro + Monty
Comments : If in doubt, overdress.
Registration date : 2009-07-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Are you really sure it's a good idea to give her something with more
power? Something tells me that, at least fanon wise: Priscilla falls
into the "mad Italian" school of driving.
Eh, I don't know - after all, her personal vehicle is a new-generation Beetle, which must surely be one of the girliest, pansiest cars ever modelled.
Robert Frazer-
Forum Posts : 1156
Location : The Green and Pleasant Land
Registration date : 2009-02-24
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Robert Frazer wrote:Are you really sure it's a good idea to give her something with more
power? Something tells me that, at least fanon wise: Priscilla falls
into the "mad Italian" school of driving.
Eh, I don't know - after all, her personal vehicle is a new-generation Beetle, which must surely be one of the girliest, pansiest cars ever modelled.
Who knows maybe she just needs to feel the power between her legs. I could see it happening after a test ride with Michelle or Elio.
Guest- Guest
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Misparsed that above comment. BRB, cleaning out sinuses...
Officer_Charon-
Forum Posts : 1472
Location : Savannah, GA
Fan of : Triela, Claes
Original Characters : John Darme.
Registration date : 2010-09-16
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Robert Frazer wrote:Are you really sure it's a good idea to give her something with more
power? Something tells me that, at least fanon wise: Priscilla falls
into the "mad Italian" school of driving.
Eh, I don't know - after all, her personal vehicle is a new-generation Beetle, which must surely be one of the girliest, pansiest cars ever modelled.
Different culture, different cars. Small vehicles are good for overcrowded cities with narrow roads. Doesn't mean those driving them aren't maniacs, as Thai moped taxis will gladly demonstrate.
Odon-
Forum Posts : 482
Location : Brisbane, Australia
Registration date : 2010-12-14
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
To be fair: the first gen New Beetle came with a fake flower in a vase on the dashboard... it really was trying to be girly.Odon wrote:Different culture, different cars. Small vehicles are good for overcrowded cities with narrow roads. Doesn't mean those driving them aren't maniacs, as Thai moped taxis will gladly demonstrate.
That said: I think it's actually easier to drive like a maniac in a small car than it is in a large one
Alfisti-
Forum Posts : 5880
Location : A Town by the Sea, NSW Central Coast, Australia
Fan of : Triela, Hilshire, Priscilla, Ferro
Original Characters : Jethro + Monty
Comments : If in doubt, overdress.
Registration date : 2009-07-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
The Gunnery Sergeant who put the most fear of God into me during my stint in the Corps (can you say "3-hour endurance PT sessions, with smelling salts for those who fall out?" Good!" said that his dream car was one of the newer Mini Coopers. Not something you expect from a man who could have been an extra in 300, and who honestly thought of himself as a modern-day centurion, to include occasionally snatching up Marines for sword-and-shield drill.
Officer_Charon-
Forum Posts : 1472
Location : Savannah, GA
Fan of : Triela, Claes
Original Characters : John Darme.
Registration date : 2010-09-16
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
I have imagined this scene several times with some variations.
I see myself being a handler walking over to Lauro and Jose who are in the bar where the two got to know one another briefly.
Jose: Hey Treme, have a seat.
Treme: Thanks.
Lauro: Hi, you're pretty new at the agency right?
Treme: Yeah, that I am.
I over heard you guys talking about your 'partners'.
Lauro: That's right, Jose here seems to feel they are to be treated the same as us.
Treme: I was that way at first too you know, Lauro.
Jose: Really? What made you change?
Treme: One time, Carmen my cyborg asked me on the way back from a mission what her 'mommy and daddy' were like and I proceeded to tell her a sanitized scenario in which they cared for her greatly until they were killed in an automobile accident at which point they died instantly, feeling no pain.
Several days later, she apparently went in my office, rummaging about and found the files on her parents discovering the truth.
The mechanical child was inconsolable, so much so that she was a disaster on the following mission, prompting Jean to conclude that she was essentially useless in that state and was consequently given a complete re-write. I've been told the end is probably not too far away.
Lauro's way may seems harsh Jose, but I don't know that I can on one hand, care for her as if she were only a child and on the other send her to kill like a murdering machine.
Almost since day one she has experienced suffering and now we are simply using what's left of her.
Jose: All the more reason to give her the respect she lacked when she was human. We owe them that much. Also, may I suggest in the future you lock the cabinet with personal data? I do.
Treme: ....
Lauro: Jose, they are not human any more. These cyborgs may have been kids at one point, but now they are more machine than human being.
Treme: I can tell you the more sorry I felt for Carmen, the more I treated her like a normal child and consequently kept her reaching for something she'll never be again.
Jose: I can understand why you are saying this, but I cannot bring myself to see Henrietta as a mere so called weapon.... (in a lower voice) Even if my own brother actually sees things that way.
(looks at his empty cup remembering his little sister, lost in thoughts he does not wish to verbalize)
Lauro: Come on Jose, here, have another drink. You know, even though you don't think like Treme and I, you're an ok guy.
Treme: Here, here!
Jose: Well, I guess there's that.
Lauro: Like Kennedy once said: 'Let's not be blind to our differences.'
Thinking about this conversation, I can't help but reflect on how Jose's fate was somewhat similar to Lauro, shot by his own cyborg.
I see myself being a handler walking over to Lauro and Jose who are in the bar where the two got to know one another briefly.
Jose: Hey Treme, have a seat.
Treme: Thanks.
Lauro: Hi, you're pretty new at the agency right?
Treme: Yeah, that I am.
I over heard you guys talking about your 'partners'.
Lauro: That's right, Jose here seems to feel they are to be treated the same as us.
Treme: I was that way at first too you know, Lauro.
Jose: Really? What made you change?
Treme: One time, Carmen my cyborg asked me on the way back from a mission what her 'mommy and daddy' were like and I proceeded to tell her a sanitized scenario in which they cared for her greatly until they were killed in an automobile accident at which point they died instantly, feeling no pain.
Several days later, she apparently went in my office, rummaging about and found the files on her parents discovering the truth.
The mechanical child was inconsolable, so much so that she was a disaster on the following mission, prompting Jean to conclude that she was essentially useless in that state and was consequently given a complete re-write. I've been told the end is probably not too far away.
Lauro's way may seems harsh Jose, but I don't know that I can on one hand, care for her as if she were only a child and on the other send her to kill like a murdering machine.
Almost since day one she has experienced suffering and now we are simply using what's left of her.
Jose: All the more reason to give her the respect she lacked when she was human. We owe them that much. Also, may I suggest in the future you lock the cabinet with personal data? I do.
Treme: ....
Lauro: Jose, they are not human any more. These cyborgs may have been kids at one point, but now they are more machine than human being.
Treme: I can tell you the more sorry I felt for Carmen, the more I treated her like a normal child and consequently kept her reaching for something she'll never be again.
Jose: I can understand why you are saying this, but I cannot bring myself to see Henrietta as a mere so called weapon.... (in a lower voice) Even if my own brother actually sees things that way.
(looks at his empty cup remembering his little sister, lost in thoughts he does not wish to verbalize)
Lauro: Come on Jose, here, have another drink. You know, even though you don't think like Treme and I, you're an ok guy.
Treme: Here, here!
Jose: Well, I guess there's that.
Lauro: Like Kennedy once said: 'Let's not be blind to our differences.'
Thinking about this conversation, I can't help but reflect on how Jose's fate was somewhat similar to Lauro, shot by his own cyborg.
tremec6speed-
Forum Posts : 2037
Fan of : Lauro and Olga!
Original Characters : Vinson/Helen/Salvatore + Gunther/Ayden. Baddies are a small group of 'techno-anarchists'
Comments : I hope to include a short illustrated fanfic story of both Mr. Yutaka Aida's characters as well as some I've come up with.
Registration date : 2009-08-25
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
This is part of the as yet to be published chapter detailing the girls recovery. i might still include this but I probably won't.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help Dr. Akagi,” a nurse asked one last time as she left the operating room.
“Yes we will be fine this is a routine procedure,” Ritsuko replied.
“Are you certified to use the laser,” the nurse asked still hesitant about the whole affair.
“I have a M.D. P.H.D. in Biochemical Engineering, I think I know how to use a medical laser,” Ritsuko shot back.
“But,” the nurse stammered as Ritsuko pushed her out the door.
“But, nothing, look I built one of these while I was in college for a masters thesis if it makes you feel any better,” Ritsuko said shutting the door. It was more like helping Misato build a particle beam cannon but who’s complaining.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help Dr. Akagi,” a nurse asked one last time as she left the operating room.
“Yes we will be fine this is a routine procedure,” Ritsuko replied.
“Are you certified to use the laser,” the nurse asked still hesitant about the whole affair.
“I have a M.D. P.H.D. in Biochemical Engineering, I think I know how to use a medical laser,” Ritsuko shot back.
“But,” the nurse stammered as Ritsuko pushed her out the door.
“But, nothing, look I built one of these while I was in college for a masters thesis if it makes you feel any better,” Ritsuko said shutting the door. It was more like helping Misato build a particle beam cannon but who’s complaining.
Guest- Guest
ElfenMagix-
Forum Posts : 5682
Location : NYC NY, USA
Fan of : Pia, Elsa, Cleas, Triela...
Original Characters : Fernando & Rachel, Felix & Francesca
Comments : He has super powers. He is God.
Registration date : 2007-09-21
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Here are some parts that got axed when i decided to rewrite the latest chap.
this next segment will still be used but heavily redacted removing some of the more humerous parts
- Spoiler:
“Angelica give her Henrietta’s medication and the file in my bag,” Claes ordered. “Beatrice I want you to go with the good doctor here and if she tries anything you are allowed to do all those things Bernardo doesn’t let you do.”
“Hehehehehe,” Beatrice giggled as she checked her pockets.
“Are you sure this is such a good idea,” Hilda said repressing a shudder at the young girls insane giggling.
“Giving you friend access to my medical records not really, sending Beatrice with her yes. If she tries anything Beatrice can turn the entire place into a crater.” Claes replied.
“Here, in case she tries anything,” Angelica said handing Beatrice her ceramic knife and a package wrapped in brown paper. Beatrice smiled while Ritsuko paled.
this next segment will still be used but heavily redacted removing some of the more humerous parts
- Spoiler:
“Hey can you watch movies on this thing,” Beatrice said gazing at one of the 3D displays currently displaying the mass spec of Claes’s blood highlighting several key compounds.
“Hu, yeah, probably,” Maya replied engrossed in unraveling the complex biochemistry of Beatrice and her friends. If this wasn’t being used for such a disgusting act, it would the next Nobel Prize in biochemistry. The conditioning meds were a symphony of modern pharmacology minimizing their interactions and maximizing effective. This doesn’t make any sense these drugs aren’t interacting and none of them are broken down into anything addictive or dangerous so why is it hurting them. What the hell is going on here?
“Hehehehehe,” Beatrice giggled cracking open the simple lock on a large yellow cabinet eager to see what fun goodies lay inside. Cool nitrates, benzenes, peroxides, and azides, I wonder if she will let me play for a bit while she finishes up. Ooohhh Bernardo never let me play with these. Beatrice carefully took out a container of Magnesium and iron oxide gazing at them one would a newly found soul mate.
“Beatrice what are you doing,” Maya asked as the pint sized girl was quickly creating a complex chemistry set out of the labs supplies.
“Yes what is your little friend doing,” an older woman asked in genuine surprise at the normally pristine lab tables looking like a messy college students attempt at an organic chemistry lab.
Beatrice looked up with a bright smile. “Maya was boring as usual and this computer doesn’t have any games so I’m trying to play house,” Beatrice said playing up her youthful appearance.
“I’m sorry, but it was take your daughter to work day and my neighbor was sick and she asked me to take her daughter in her place,” Maya blurted out in surprise.
“Ah, I see, and Dr. Akagi approved this little endeavor,” the woman asked.
“Yes, she said it was ok, as long as she didn’t touch anything,” Maya said glaring at Beatrice.
“Sorry,” Beatrice said slowly disassembling her distillation column.
“It’s ok, I’ll see if Dr. Zepplin will let me take you on a tour of some of the other labs after I am finished here,” Maya said sweating bullets as the senior researcher looked down at her.
“That can be arranged, but first tell me what were you doing on the Magus system,” Dr. Zepplin asked.
“Just some routine research that’s all,” Maya replied.
“Yes, but it’s been a long time since Ritsuko has allowed anyone access to the full potential of the Magus system,” Dr. Zepplin asked trying to get a better look at the readout.
“It’s just some basic tests and analysis, but she wanted it done quickly so she gave me full access so I could finish all of it today,” Maya replied.
“What kind of tests, she hasn’t made any headway on her cyber brain project has she,” Dr. Zepplin asked eying Beatrice.
“No nothing like that,” Maya replied.
“Well then why is she looking into a drug addict’s blood work,” the red headed woman pressed. “Did Misato do something stupid again?”
“No it wasn’t Misato. Ritsuko was asked to consult on a case by an old friend, and asked me to run some blood work for her while she remained on sight,” Maya replied.
“Well take all the time you need, we can always use some good PR. In fact why don’t I take your little friend here on a tour, while you finish up,” Dr. Zepplin replied. I need to do some testing of my own.
“Can I,” Beatrice beamed playing along.
“Sure just don’t do anything you’re father and mother wouldn’t approve of,” Maya said with a wave as Dr. Zepplin led Beatrice away.
I’m glad that’s over with, if she knew what I was really doing. Now what the heck was she making over here? Copper oxide, Magnesium, Sulfur, Distilled water, what would she want transitional metals for, oh hell, who taught this girl chemistry, and more importantly what kind of person would consider this a normal thing to do. A loud beep pulled Maya from her thoughts as the latest round of tests completed. What the hell this doesn’t make any sense, the liver shouldn’t metabolize metals this way, and the kidneys should have cleared them no problem. The girls, were created to be the pinnacle of biological perfection, this should hardly be a problem for them.
“No way, it couldn’t be that simple, but that’s just horrible,” Maya exclaimed grabbing her phone.
Guest- Guest
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Sounds cool CI, I liked it!
tremec6speed-
Forum Posts : 2037
Fan of : Lauro and Olga!
Original Characters : Vinson/Helen/Salvatore + Gunther/Ayden. Baddies are a small group of 'techno-anarchists'
Comments : I hope to include a short illustrated fanfic story of both Mr. Yutaka Aida's characters as well as some I've come up with.
Registration date : 2009-08-25
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
I don't really have any 'bits that don't go anywhere else.' If I hang onto something long enough, I always find someplace for it.
Thescarredman-
Forum Posts : 2226
Location : Toledo, Ohio, United States
Fan of : Rico, Bice
Original Characters : Kristal & Verotrois / Doc; Angel / Jack Keaton; Tiffany/Stefan
Comments : .
Mario Bossi would make a better handler than Marco Toni. Come to think of it, so would Christiano.
.
Elizaveta didn't jump - she was pushed.
.
Sofia was pregnant. It would have been a boy.
.
John Doe faked his own death - twice.
.
Enrica taught Jose everything he knows about the night sky.
Registration date : 2012-02-04
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
In the interest of keeping this poor neglected forum a going concern, though, may I offer this: a snippet from a story idea I once started about a couple of Fratelli traveling to America for a joint operation with the CIA. The SWA doesn't explain anything about the young girls attending the Italian intelligence agents, which of course piques the Company's interest.
Morgan appeared at the cafeteria table. Deborah said, “Well?”
“She’s good.” The big man dropped his gym bag on the floor at the end of the table and sat, moving carefully as if very tired. “Real good.” A trickle of blood slid out of his left nostril, and he brushed his upper lip with a knuckle, wiping it away. “Actually, she’s un-frickin-believable. I wish we’d recorded it. We went six rounds. I took three of them, but I’ve got a bad feeling she threw them all. She kept breaking contact and asking me, ‘Are you okay? Do you want to stop?’ Like it was the only English she knows.”
“It is,” Deborah said. “I taught her. She was so worried about hurting you. I thought it was cute.” Not anymore.
“That does wonders for my self-confidence.” He settled further into the seat. “She hits like somebody three times her size. And some of her moves ... I recognize them, sort of, but not the way she does them. This kid defies the laws of physics, I swear.” At her smile, he said seriously, “Deb, how high can a human being jump?”
“I don’t know. Six feet, maybe?”
“Way off. A couple feet or so.”
“Regular people, maybe. What about pro basketball players?”
“Nope. They can reach that net because they’re, like, seven feet tall to begin with. Next time you watch the Knicks take on the Cavs, watch the players’ hips, not their feet. You’ll see I’m right.”
She frowned. “Hal, I know the record for the high jump is more than a couple of feet.”
“High jumpers have to clear a bar, like pole vaulters, and they do it the same way. They throw their bodies sideways over the bar in an arc, first the head and shoulders, then the back, then the legs and feet, sort of flowing over it. And the part passing over the bar is always the part that’s farthest above the ground at that moment. By the time the feet clear the bar, the shoulders are nearly touching the mat.”
She shrugged. “Okay, so what do you want to tell me?”
“End of the last match, the two of us were circling maybe six feet apart. I’m staying just out of contact range, looking for some way to use my longer reach against her. Suddenly the little shrimp’s hip is even with my shoulder and her foot is headed for my face. I ducked just in time.” His mouth quirked. “Just in time to catch the other foot in my chest. Knocked me right off the mat, flat on my back, and I didn’t think I was ever gonna breathe again. So much for longer reach.”
Deborah sipped her drink. “So. Bodyguard?”
“Some guy comes at her with a knife, I don’t think much of his chances. Does she know anything about guns?”
“She brought two pistols in her luggage, and three or four holsters that looked worn. I’d say yes.”
He reached for her drink and took a sip. “That’s one dangerous little girl. What about the other one?”
“I don’t know. But if I’m guessing, I’d say she’s the same. What have we got here, Hal?”
Thescarredman-
Forum Posts : 2226
Location : Toledo, Ohio, United States
Fan of : Rico, Bice
Original Characters : Kristal & Verotrois / Doc; Angel / Jack Keaton; Tiffany/Stefan
Comments : .
Mario Bossi would make a better handler than Marco Toni. Come to think of it, so would Christiano.
.
Elizaveta didn't jump - she was pushed.
.
Sofia was pregnant. It would have been a boy.
.
John Doe faked his own death - twice.
.
Enrica taught Jose everything he knows about the night sky.
Registration date : 2012-02-04
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
And another quick one, the final fight between Pino and Triela, told from an objective omniscient POV, originally intended as the ending to 'Porcupine Love':
Pino and Triela are locked in combat. They move from room to room of Christiano’s near-empty mansion, leaving wreckage all around, and dust drifting in the air. Their guns are long empty, blades lost or broken; they dance, each avoiding death at the other’s hands twice a second as they look for an opening - two conscienceless killers fighting, not for their lives, but each to protect the one person on earth they can ever truly love.
They are tiring. In a contest where the slightest advantage guarantees quick victory, they are too evenly matched: his speed, agility, and extra years of experience counter her greater strength and endurance. Before much longer, they both know, they will begin making mistakes, and eventually one of them will make a mistake that the other will spot in time to take advantage. Just a matter of time and luck.
Neither of them has any faith in luck.
He has something in his hand. He lunges suddenly, a possibly killing blow that she sees has opened him to a counter, but only if she lets his blow land. Her decision is instant.
They both strike, and blood sprays. They fall a second apart, close enough to join hands, but they lie separate and alone, one dying.
Their blood pools beneath them.
Spreads.
Touches.
And mingles.
Thescarredman-
Forum Posts : 2226
Location : Toledo, Ohio, United States
Fan of : Rico, Bice
Original Characters : Kristal & Verotrois / Doc; Angel / Jack Keaton; Tiffany/Stefan
Comments : .
Mario Bossi would make a better handler than Marco Toni. Come to think of it, so would Christiano.
.
Elizaveta didn't jump - she was pushed.
.
Sofia was pregnant. It would have been a boy.
.
John Doe faked his own death - twice.
.
Enrica taught Jose everything he knows about the night sky.
Registration date : 2012-02-04
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
You have a real talent for writing Scarredman. I only had a quick read as my time is very sparse, but that was really evocative, easily creating action packed images in my mind.
tremec6speed-
Forum Posts : 2037
Fan of : Lauro and Olga!
Original Characters : Vinson/Helen/Salvatore + Gunther/Ayden. Baddies are a small group of 'techno-anarchists'
Comments : I hope to include a short illustrated fanfic story of both Mr. Yutaka Aida's characters as well as some I've come up with.
Registration date : 2009-08-25
Start of a never-completed fic
STORY REMOVED BY ODON
Last edited by Odon on Fri 27 Oct 2023 - 3:59; edited 2 times in total
Odon-
Forum Posts : 482
Location : Brisbane, Australia
Registration date : 2010-12-14
Kiskaloo, taerKitty and Thescarredman like this post
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Sorry to see this titled "never-completed fic." Am curious where it's going.
taerKitty-
Forum Posts : 1211
Location : Pacific Northwest
Fan of : Claes
Original Characters : Dina & Paolo
Comments : The feelz... the feelz...
Registration date : 2012-01-22
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Nowhere, unfortunately. It was meant to lead into an emotive Hilshire/Triela fic, but after writing ten thousand words of rubbish I realised I couldn't make it work. Hence it being posted here.taerKitty wrote:Sorry to see this titled "never-completed fic." Am curious where it's going.
Odon-
Forum Posts : 482
Location : Brisbane, Australia
Registration date : 2010-12-14
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
You and Thescarredman have inspired me to give this one another try, so I've removed it for now.taerKitty wrote:Sorry to see this titled "never-completed fic." Am curious where it's going.
For your enjoyment here's the start of an A.D. Police story that I never bothered to continue, probably because I never joined a Bubblegum Crisis forum. I know it doesn't really belong here but the girl has a mechanical body, so...
Voomer. n. an android created from protein, biocircuitry and man-made internal organs, programmed with artificial intelligence.
Cyborg (see also 'Borg' or 'Voomeroid'). n. 1. any human or animal whose artificial components consist of more than 70% of their vital organs. 2. (slang). an individual who acts as a tool of higher interests. 3. (slang). a person of cold demeanor and machine-like precision.
AD (Advanced) Police. n. 1. specialist division of the Japanese National Police formed in 2020 to combat political terrorism and rogue voomer activity. 2. To A.D. vb (slang). to blunder into a situation, to make a situation worse by ones' intervention, to use excessive force to resolve an issue.
Cn/Fleshdeath
Her eyes looked enormous through the telescopic sight.
They were deep blue, infinitely deep as oceans. Moist and trembling with barely-repressed emotion, like a character from a shoujo manga, she stared as if sensing the gunsite, bewilderment and fear written on her face. Rain flowed down her high cheekbones, akin to tears.
Lieutenant Tsukiko Takemura clicked back the magnification, expanding her field of view to take in more of the girl's features. Jet-black hair, a red scarf, the sailor-like uniform of a schoolgirl. The downpour had plastered the clothes to her skin, revealing curves more suited to an adult woman than a child. The combination of infantile face and whore's body was obscene; a perverse caricature of youthful innocence.
The girl's mouth opened, shouting words that were drowned by the rain thundering against the solar collector. Droplets ran along the underside in a steady trickle, until gravity won out and they dripped into the gap between Tsukiko's collar and helmet. Cold neck and hot body, steamed up under the constrictions of jumpsuit and body armour. For the tenth time she pulled her raincoat forward to cover her nape. Once more it slid back under the weight of the magazines and rifle grenades she had crammed into the pockets.
She dropped the muzzle a fraction, placing the crosshairs on the girl's chest. The top buttons of her blouse were unbuttoned, the scarf loose, revealing the bold thrust of over-developed breasts. Tsukiko's index finger caressed the trigger – a red dot appeared on the moist surface of the cleavage. Ideograms scrolled down the edge of the sightscreen, listing windage, range-to-target, ambient temperature correction. The processor adjusted the laser dot a half-click to the left. Tsukiko shifted the rifle until the dot was once more centered within the crosshairs. A buzz in her earpiece confirmed the target was locked.
Red flashing letters appeared in the corner of her sightscreen: 'NO-FIRE'.
"Shit..."
Tsukiko lifted her eye off the sight, staring at the girl across the street. She looked tiny now, alone on the rain-slick pavement in the glaring floodlights of the armored personnel carriers, like an actress on a stage. Tsukiko half expected her to break into a dance, take a bow.
"Hoshi, what's taking them so long?"
["The owner's getting antsy,"] said the voice in her head. ["Talking about compensation. He won't sign the release."]
["Well if he's got a problem, tell him we'll piss off back to base and let HIM deal with it,"] said Chernushevich. She could see him as a black shadow by the crowd pusher blade of the nearest carrier, a long tube resting on his shoulder.
["We don't even know if that IS the rogue voomer."] Harry's voice now, tension evident in his voice.
["Christ, she's out of the building isn't she? What's she doing, putting out the garbage?"]
["She's not accepting the shutdown code, but the owner says this unit's always playing up."]
["Bullshit!"] growled Chernushevich. ["He's not been giving his voomers the proper maintenance. Cheaper to get them to blow the Health & Safety inspector whenever he comes round."]
["How about giving us one while she's at it?"]
The girl lifted her hands to the weeping sky, as if in supplication. Tsukiko quickly put her eye back to the rubber sight cup, zooming in on the outstretched limbs. They were unmarked, clean and pink. Still, that didn't mean anything. The skin of this voomer would be designed for easy removal of sticky body fluids like sweat, semen or blood.
"Override," she whispered into the rifle's microphone.
'LETHAL' flashed on her sightscreen. Her finger curled on the trigger once more.
["Alpha One, you've overridden your safeties__"]
["Takemura!"] The Captain's thundering voice cut Hoshi off. ["If you shoot that voomer before you're authorised it's coming out of your paycheck!"]
"Then confirm dammit! If she runs we could lose her in this weather!"
["All units, the voomer is not repeat not confirmed. Section One, move in and immobilise her. Section Two, cover."]
"Shit!" said Tsukiko, snapping the bipod up into the rifle's foregrip. She ducked out from under the solar collector, zipping her raincoat closed as she stepped out into the downpour, running in a crouch for the edge of the roof. In front of her the neon sea of nighttime Mega-Tokyo stretched away, distorted by the pouring rain into a murky phosphorescence. She grabbed the nearest fire escape lever and pulled, the emergency chute exploding outwards, flapping in the air like an enormous windsock. Without hesitation Tsukiko swung her feet inside and pushed off the edge, falling into billowing whiteness, the peristaltic tube contracting around her till she was deposited harmlessly on the ground. Crawling out from the sodden elastifabric, she clambered to her feet and sprinted to where the others waited.
Section One was clustered in a tense group by the open hatch of an APC. Red light spilling from the interior cast murky shadows on their faces. Harry Kimiko was trying to look calm on this, his first rogue job. Seki and Tanaka were running a last minute software check on their EMP rifles. Chernushevich was clutching enough firepower to flatten a small tank in one hand, his eyes never leaving the spotlighted girl.
Tsukiko stepped under the temporary shelter of the rear hatch, shucking off her raincoat and tossing it onto the floor. She yanked the code chip and magazine out of her rifle, the safeties activating as she handed it to the APC's armourer. He locked the rifle inside the gun cabinet, then passed out a heavy blue cylinder, a long gun-like nozzle attached by a clip to its side.
Tsukiko passed the glue gun to Harry, taking for herself a FN02 grenade launcher. It looked like a massive two handled revolver, but its lightweight plastic construction meant that it weighed less than her sniper rifle. Tsukiko inserted her code chip. There was a faint whirring as the stock and trigger pull adjusted to her specifications and the loading gate unlocked. She slid in three 40mm EMP's, with two high velocity PEN-EX rounds as backup. A turn of a key tensioned the driving spring, then she slung the weapon around her neck. "This is Alpha One. Radio check."
["Command loud and clear,"] said Hoshi. ["We are recording, your time is 23:08:05 hrs."]
["Section Two, loud and clear."]
"Alpha Two, loud and clear." Chernushevich planted his boot on a tire, grabbed the brace of the APC's signal laser and hauled himself up onto the roof.
"This is Alpha Three, you're breaking up," said Tanaka.
["OK, wait. I'll reroute you through 34-0,"] said Hoshi. ["Alpha Four, how is your signal?"]
["Loud and clear."]
Tsukiko tried dropping the visor on her helmet, but her breath fogged it up in seconds: the heater was kaputt again. The rain was a cold shock on her face; she squinted against it, peering to where the voomer was a washed out smear against the light.
'Come on, let's get this fucking over with . . .'
Harry's boots scuffed on the tarmac.
["Command to Alpha Three. Radio check."]
["Loud and clear."]
["Section One, you are cleared to go."]
They moved out in inverted arrow formation; Tsukiko at the apex, Seki and Kimiko to her right, Tanaka twenty metres to her left. The voomer watched them approach - a rabbit caught in the headlights.
"Harry?"
Kimiko stopped ten metres from the voomer, aiming his gluegun below her waist. "Ready."
Tanaka started waving his arms in an idiotic fashion, yelling, "Hey babe, how much for a blow job?"
The voomer's head turned towards him and Harry fired, a stream of grey foam exploding from the nozzle, splattering across the front of her dress in a rampant ejaculation. Squealing in fear she jumped backwards, stumbling as the foam solidified into sticky grey clumps that pasted her thighs together. She scrabbled with her hands across the pavement, kicking and screaming like a wounded animal. Harry struggled to follow her with the bucking stream, the gluegun convulsing in his hands.
Suddenly it coughed violently and the flow dropped to a trickle. A thick lump formed in the nozzle, drooping to the ground like an impotent penis.
"Shit!" cried Harry, slamming his palm against the side of the weapon.
There was a savage noise like tearing canvas and the voomer ripped free in a spray of body liquid. Leaving her clothes and skin stuck to the ground, the android sprinted for the door of the brothel, thin jets of white fluid spurting from her arteries. For a moment they had a cybersurgeon's view of artificial muscles and tiny servo-mechanisms pumping in her legs. There was a high-pitched whine as Seki and Tanaka fired their rifles. Holographic signs and window screens behind the voomer flickered and went dead as the electro-magnetic pulse wiped their circuitry. A burglar alarm began its inane clangor.
A stubby cylinder flew over their heads and erupted with a flat crack, flinging a gossamer-thin electronet through the air. The voomer skipped out of the way with ballerina's skill. Turning neatly on her heel, she ran straight for Harry Kimiko.
"HARRY, LOOK OUT!" yelled Tsukiko. The rookie was intent on his gluegun, struggling to clear the gunk from its nozzle. He looked up in surprise, eyes widening as he took in the voomer bearing down on him.
Tsukiko didn't hesitate. In one movement she raised and fired her grenade launcher. A white geyser erupted between the voomer's shoulder blades. Her entire body arched in a bow, shuddering as if caught in a massive orgasm, a high-pitched shriek erupting from her throat. Then she collapsed, a puppet with its strings cut.
Placing her feet with care on the wet pavement, Tsukiko advanced towards the voomer. Android blood was mixing with rainwater, flowing away in milky streams down the gutter.
"You d-d-didn't have to d-d-do that."
It took Tsukiko a moment to realise that the voomer was speaking. Her lips weren't in sync with the words, like a foreign movie with bad dubbing.
"You d-d-didn't have to d-d-do that."
"PEN-EX," Tsukiko whispered into the launcher's microphone. The cylinder clunked as it advanced two chambers.
"You d-d-didn't have to__"
Tsukiko squeezed the trigger and the voomer's head exploded.
Odon-
Forum Posts : 482
Location : Brisbane, Australia
Registration date : 2010-12-14
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
Tsukiko really hates artificials, doesn't she? Great little snippet. I have a friend who wrote a marvelous BGC story and introduced me to the genre. Must say, your take on that universe is pretty dark.
Thescarredman-
Forum Posts : 2226
Location : Toledo, Ohio, United States
Fan of : Rico, Bice
Original Characters : Kristal & Verotrois / Doc; Angel / Jack Keaton; Tiffany/Stefan
Comments : .
Mario Bossi would make a better handler than Marco Toni. Come to think of it, so would Christiano.
.
Elizaveta didn't jump - she was pushed.
.
Sofia was pregnant. It would have been a boy.
.
John Doe faked his own death - twice.
.
Enrica taught Jose everything he knows about the night sky.
Registration date : 2012-02-04
Your character
OC genger: 40
Re: Scenes that don't fit anywhere else
The end of an unfinished TrielaXHilshire that I never could make work. Probably because with these two it's not meant to.
They both heard it at the same time; the movement of the lift motor.
Triela's first irrational instinct was to go for her weapon. Halfway there she stopped, spun in confusion, then raced back to her handler, helping Hilshire to button his shirt. The broken belt she dumped in the waste bin. She used her handkerchief to wipe his face; thank God she hadn't put on lipstick earlier.
'Shiesse! Of all the people it would be him!'
"Sandro, Petrushka," Hilshire greeted them. "Just getting in some shooting."
Sandro visibly catalogued their body language and rumpled clothing, the absence of cordite smell. He turned to his cyborg and rolled his eyes. Petrushka giggled. She held her Spectre M4 and a steel box of 9mm ammunition. Sandro carried paper targets and a cleaning kit. A rolled-up mattress, like one might use for prone shooting, was tucked under his arm. His smug look seemed to imply: 'See? I remembered my props. You two are amateurs at this.'
"Petrushka here wanted to try out her new body, after the doctors patched her up."
She walked to the bench and laid out the submachine gun and ammunition. Only a faint shading on her cheeks betrayed her excitement. Last night Petra had saved her life. Right then Triela could have cheerfully throttled her.
Sandro reached down and picked something off the floor. Triela felt herself cringe inside. It was Hilshire's belt buckle.
"You shouldn't drive her so hard, Hilshire. What was that you told me earlier, about taking advantage of a brainwashed subordinate?"
Triela took a step toward him and Petrushka snatched up her weapon and Hilshire grabbed Triela's arm and shoved her into the elevator, holding her firmly until the doors had closed behind them. In the semi-darkness Hilshire could see Triela fumbling to pull her sweater up over her head. With a resolution he could have done with a few minutes earlier, he firmly yanked her clothing back into place. "No! We're going to stop this right now! It's gone far enough."
"It hasn't gone anywhere!” There was an edge of hysteria in Triela's voice that had never been there before. "What do you want from me?!"
Sandro would be nuzzling his cyborg's hair, enjoying the increase in her breathing as she tried to hold her arms steady, the build-up of tension not quite released as the submachine gun hammered and bucked in her hands. After they had filled the range with scattered brass and the smell of burnt cordite, they'd make love on the floor and the benches and inside the firing bays, free of guilt and the fear of recrimination.
She clung to his arm all the way back to the dormitory, uncaring of the sentries with their all-seeing night scopes. That lasted until Hilshire stopped at the skip bin and insisted on rescuing Augustus and Caligula. Triela stood with her arms folded, refusing to help as he struggled with the heavy metal lid.
"Please don't banish your bears. I went to a lot of trouble to pick them."
Triela looked past him to the darkened silhouette of the Killing House, awaiting tomorrow's lessons in murder.
"I love you," said Hilshire quietly, hoping like hell that every intelligence agency in Italy had their rifle mikes switched off. "I don't have to be your lover to prove that. Fratello, like siblings, remember?"
Triela pushed at the curb with her boot. 'A hell of a place for a declaration of love, stuck between a garbage bin and a shooting range.'
"Fine," she said, not meeting his gaze. "That's all I asked for.” She shoved open the door to the Cyborg Warehouse, leaving Hilshire to free the bears on his own.
A foil blanket was wrapped around Petrushka's shoulders and bandages criss-crossed her arms, yet she was well enough to stand, shoved in between the stretcher cases. Two cyborgs were giving CPR long after the adults had given up.
"We're almost home,” she said, squeezing Triela's hand. Her friend's skin was pale and clammy, the cyborg body redirecting fluids from injured and artificial components to protect the irreplaceable brain. The clustered confusion of tubing plugged into her stomach was a petty distraction from the horror of their handler's injuries.
Triela turned her head. The familiar lights of the compound rotated outside the windows as the medivac helicopter maneuvered for landing. She could see Hilshire leaning over the shoulder of the pilot. In her drugged haze the light of the instrument panels seemed to surround his head like a halo.
"How can you stand being so intimate with your handler?" she whispered. "How can you dance in his fire and not die?"
"You've got it all wrong," Petrushka whispered back. "If I couldn't love him as I do, that would be like dying."
Triela closed her eyes. "Then leave me alone. I want to die in peace."
The lights were out in Triela's room, but he could see her lying on the bunk, her back to the door. Hilshire placed the stuffed toys where they could argue over who had been sitting in their chairs. He bent over and kissed her cheek before he left the room. Triela didn't respond. Her cheek was wet and salty. Hilshire was thankful he couldn't see her eyes.
Tomorrow they would repair the frayed bonds of their fratello, as sanity returned in the cold hours of the morning. They would agree to be more cautious in future. They would say there was no need for physical intimacy, for those whose friendship had been forged in battle. They would resolve to be lovers in their hearts. They would lie to each other, as all lovers do.
They both heard it at the same time; the movement of the lift motor.
Triela's first irrational instinct was to go for her weapon. Halfway there she stopped, spun in confusion, then raced back to her handler, helping Hilshire to button his shirt. The broken belt she dumped in the waste bin. She used her handkerchief to wipe his face; thank God she hadn't put on lipstick earlier.
'Shiesse! Of all the people it would be him!'
"Sandro, Petrushka," Hilshire greeted them. "Just getting in some shooting."
Sandro visibly catalogued their body language and rumpled clothing, the absence of cordite smell. He turned to his cyborg and rolled his eyes. Petrushka giggled. She held her Spectre M4 and a steel box of 9mm ammunition. Sandro carried paper targets and a cleaning kit. A rolled-up mattress, like one might use for prone shooting, was tucked under his arm. His smug look seemed to imply: 'See? I remembered my props. You two are amateurs at this.'
"Petrushka here wanted to try out her new body, after the doctors patched her up."
She walked to the bench and laid out the submachine gun and ammunition. Only a faint shading on her cheeks betrayed her excitement. Last night Petra had saved her life. Right then Triela could have cheerfully throttled her.
Sandro reached down and picked something off the floor. Triela felt herself cringe inside. It was Hilshire's belt buckle.
"You shouldn't drive her so hard, Hilshire. What was that you told me earlier, about taking advantage of a brainwashed subordinate?"
Triela took a step toward him and Petrushka snatched up her weapon and Hilshire grabbed Triela's arm and shoved her into the elevator, holding her firmly until the doors had closed behind them. In the semi-darkness Hilshire could see Triela fumbling to pull her sweater up over her head. With a resolution he could have done with a few minutes earlier, he firmly yanked her clothing back into place. "No! We're going to stop this right now! It's gone far enough."
"It hasn't gone anywhere!” There was an edge of hysteria in Triela's voice that had never been there before. "What do you want from me?!"
Sandro would be nuzzling his cyborg's hair, enjoying the increase in her breathing as she tried to hold her arms steady, the build-up of tension not quite released as the submachine gun hammered and bucked in her hands. After they had filled the range with scattered brass and the smell of burnt cordite, they'd make love on the floor and the benches and inside the firing bays, free of guilt and the fear of recrimination.
She clung to his arm all the way back to the dormitory, uncaring of the sentries with their all-seeing night scopes. That lasted until Hilshire stopped at the skip bin and insisted on rescuing Augustus and Caligula. Triela stood with her arms folded, refusing to help as he struggled with the heavy metal lid.
"Please don't banish your bears. I went to a lot of trouble to pick them."
Triela looked past him to the darkened silhouette of the Killing House, awaiting tomorrow's lessons in murder.
"I love you," said Hilshire quietly, hoping like hell that every intelligence agency in Italy had their rifle mikes switched off. "I don't have to be your lover to prove that. Fratello, like siblings, remember?"
Triela pushed at the curb with her boot. 'A hell of a place for a declaration of love, stuck between a garbage bin and a shooting range.'
"Fine," she said, not meeting his gaze. "That's all I asked for.” She shoved open the door to the Cyborg Warehouse, leaving Hilshire to free the bears on his own.
TWELVE HOURS AGO
A foil blanket was wrapped around Petrushka's shoulders and bandages criss-crossed her arms, yet she was well enough to stand, shoved in between the stretcher cases. Two cyborgs were giving CPR long after the adults had given up.
"We're almost home,” she said, squeezing Triela's hand. Her friend's skin was pale and clammy, the cyborg body redirecting fluids from injured and artificial components to protect the irreplaceable brain. The clustered confusion of tubing plugged into her stomach was a petty distraction from the horror of their handler's injuries.
Triela turned her head. The familiar lights of the compound rotated outside the windows as the medivac helicopter maneuvered for landing. She could see Hilshire leaning over the shoulder of the pilot. In her drugged haze the light of the instrument panels seemed to surround his head like a halo.
"How can you stand being so intimate with your handler?" she whispered. "How can you dance in his fire and not die?"
"You've got it all wrong," Petrushka whispered back. "If I couldn't love him as I do, that would be like dying."
Triela closed her eyes. "Then leave me alone. I want to die in peace."
PRESENT
The lights were out in Triela's room, but he could see her lying on the bunk, her back to the door. Hilshire placed the stuffed toys where they could argue over who had been sitting in their chairs. He bent over and kissed her cheek before he left the room. Triela didn't respond. Her cheek was wet and salty. Hilshire was thankful he couldn't see her eyes.
Tomorrow they would repair the frayed bonds of their fratello, as sanity returned in the cold hours of the morning. They would agree to be more cautious in future. They would say there was no need for physical intimacy, for those whose friendship had been forged in battle. They would resolve to be lovers in their hearts. They would lie to each other, as all lovers do.
Odon-
Forum Posts : 482
Location : Brisbane, Australia
Registration date : 2010-12-14
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