Tuesday, March 24, 2015

[Fiction] Damaged Goods, Part 2^e


There was a great cracking sound as Snow ran down the corridor.  A sort of terrible rending sound, like thunder but an octave lower. Snow had never heard anything so deep, nor so frightening.  Quite soon after that the artificial gravity failed, and Snow lost his grip, his last step propelling him into the ceiling.  Dead bodies floated everywhere.  Snow grabbed and threw them, propelling him down the lane.  He reached the doors to the vestral hanger but they were sealed.  The hanger was losing air.  Cursing, Snow pulled out his phone and connected to the ships central computer.

Hull Status:  Catastrophic Failure
* *  all blast doors shut * *
Engine 1:  Offline
Engine 2:  Offline
Engine 3:  Offline
Engine 4:  Offline
Engine 5:  Offline
Reactor 1:  Offline
Reactor 2: * * Critical * *
Reactor 3:  Offline
Thruster Propellant: 0%
Batteries:  1%
Location:  LEO
Orbital Inclination: unknown
Network:  No connection

And then a list of missing crew lifesigns that went on for pages.  Nearly everyone was dead.  And if they weren't...well they were going to be.  Blast doors didn't have very convenient controls, and Snow had less than a minute.  Little did the hanger's blast doors know, air was being lost all over the ship.  Snow could already see fuzzy edges on his vision.  Snow connected to one of the engineering computers and wrote a virus that tricked the computers into thinking that everything was normal.  Every blast door opened.  On the entire ship.

If Snow had a God's eye view of the starship, he would have seen hundreds of people dying.  But he didn't.  So that's nice.

The way was clear, but the last mobile suit was on the other end of the hangar.  Snow launched himself from a railing, but the mobile suit was 200 meters away and it was going to be close.

And then the reactor exploded.  A concussive wave pushed him off course shortly before plasma fire (well, really its just plasma) erupted into the hangar.  A jet of the superheated material narrowly missed taking Snow's leg off, although it did set his pants on fire.  More importantly, though, is that the shockwave had knocked him off course.  He was going to miss the mobile suit by a meter.

Snow pulled his phone out again and with shaking fingers, and seconds to spare, sent a command to the mobile suit to open the cockpit, just before the entire network went dark.

A panel in the mobile suit's chest flew open, just in time and just far enough for Snow to grab it and propel himself into the cockpit of the mobile suit.  He pulled the door shut just before plasma fully engulfed the mobile suit--plasma that would eat through the suit's armor in seconds.  Snow quickstarted the mobile suite and punched the throttle, which was quite difficult because he was currently upside down the cockpit.

The mobile suit shot across the hangar and slammed into a wall.  Snow's body was flung into the windows.  His leg was on fire.  Smoke filled the cabin.  And his head hurt like hell.  But he would not give up.  He found the gun controls and activated the gatlings inside the hangar.  They quickly tore a number of holes in different places.  Right about the time he ran out of ammo, he saw a hole large enough for the mobile suit to grab onto and pull itself out of the dying ship, where it was directly knocked off by the force of the atmosphere the great hulk was descending into.

Pieces all around with glowed with the long streaks of fire of objects entering atmo.

Snow righted himself, strapped into the chair and put out his leg.  He grabbed the controls and assessed the screen.  The suit was nearly out of main power; in fact, its lack of charge was the reason it was left out of the fight.  Chemical thrusters were out of propellant and ion thrusters were useless in or around an atmosphere.  Also the armor was mostly gone.  He couldn't maintain orbit and he couldn't make the descent without burning up.

But the starship was being torn apart all around him.  Snow used what power he had left to find a piece of the hanger.  The mobile suite held the shrapnel in front of him using its arms, and he used the legs to maintain the balance with the shrapnel in front of him to absorb the heat from the compressed air.  It wasn't a perfect solution.  The mobile suit's hands would no doubt burn off.  But it was enough to reduce velocity to switch to flight mode.  Well, it would have been.

Something terrible jerked the gundam backwards, shearing and tearing his leg off.  The hangar shrapnel flew out of the mobile suit's hands, and the mobile suit began a roll.  As it did so, Snow caught sight of the tail of the dragon.

The mobile suits roll continued, an awkward spin that brought the mobile suit around just in time to see the dragon coming for him, mouth agape, flames just beginning to leap out.  Snow pushed all of his remaining power to the mobile suit's right side, whipped the gundam cannon out of its holster, and fired down the dragon's throat.

The blast knocked the two of them apart.

They were in the stratosphere.

Main power was gone.

There was a tenth of a percent of power left in the battery.  Normal flight all the way down to the surface would take at least 7%.  Snow Monkey put the mobile suit in a dive.  It took about three seconds to exceed the max airspeed, and only five before pieces started flying off.  The turbulence was intense, and by 10,000 feet it make the suit shake in a very distressing standing wave.

Snow Monkey started easing up on the pitch, slowly, slowly, wincing every time he heard a loud bang and felt the altered airflow.  He descended through 5,000 and then 4,000 feet still at a very steep angle, though he had nearly reached a respectable 50 degrees by 3,000.  Then he pulled up with everything he had, flaring the landing so that by 500 feet he was slowing to a safe speed, perhaps just in time to drop into a football field that just happened to be in his line of descent.  Success was mere seconds away.  And then something both mechanical and very, very important, snapped.

The mobile suit flipped, tumbled, and landed on its back against a skyscraper, like a toy solder being tossed against the wall.  The suit slid down to the ground, various pieces on its back digging into and pulling on the windows of the building as it fell.

Snow Monkey leaned back and closed his eyes.  He had won.  He'd fucking won, man.  He blasted that sucker in the throat with an explosive slug the side of a small european car.  Well maybe not that big but it was pretty...damn....

Snow drifted off.

He came too with the sound of a woman's scream.  Blinking, Snow looked in front of him, outside the cockpit.  The dragon landed.  The dragon!  It was wounded, sure.  Its wings were all fucked and its tail looked somewhat shorter than it did previously and it's metal skin was way less shiny.  And it had a black eye.  And a hole in its throat.  But it also looked super pissed off.

Snow glanced at the panel.  He had like...nothing.  There was a slug in the cannon but he was out of power.  The main battery was at 0%.  Pretty much everything on the screen was blinking red.  The left leg was actually physically gone, which I'll have you know is about as impressive as that guy who landed the F-15 with a wing missing.  Snow grabbed for his side arm but felt an empty pouch, which evoked a distant memory of using the gun to help propel himself during a lack of gravity, and/or executing a superior officer.  Did he do that?  He couldn't remember.  It was extremely difficult to think, and his head hurt like fucking hell.  And his vision was blurry.  Blood?  And his leg.  His fucking leg.

The woman screamed again.  Or maybe it was crying.

Snow cleared the command console down to a command prompt and looked at nearly everything.  The battery may have been dead, but the control console and the remaining leg still had residual charges in their capacitors.  If he could get the right...

Snow made the computer do a very simple-looking yet brain hurting calculus equation.  Then he sent the results to the mobile suit's right leg.

With one pseudo-burst of movement, the right leg moved, neither slow, nor fast, pushing the otherwise dead arm into exactly the right position, with the huge gun barrel aiming straight across to the dragon.

"Got you," whispered Snow.

And this is where Snow wakes up.  Except: he was already awake.

Snow winced and blinked blood out of his right eye.  The left was swollen shut.  His right arm was weak, balanced precariously on his knee.  Even worse, he had a very scary notion that mobile suits did not actually exist in real life.

In front of him, Nikka was on her knees.  Mascara ran down her face in tear lines.  Her holster was empty, her dress torn, with one breast popped out.  The cop was behind her, holding both of her arms behind her with one arm, a position which thrust her chest out to a striking degree.  The other arm...

Nikka had her head turned, she was avoiding...

The man from the NSA was in front of her, jeans down, cock out.  His erection bounced with every heartbeat, and his heartbeats were quick.  He must have been new to fieldwork.  The cop grabbed Nikka's hair with his free arm and forced her head to turn toward the NSA agent's cock.  She resisted, but, inch by inch, her mouth passed closer and closer to the tip.  And then she closed her eyes.


Snow's first shot went home, right at the base of the guys dick, which exploded in a cloud of blood, painting Nikka's face like some kind of horror movie facial.  Which is why its so fortunate that she closed her eyes.  Snow took his time recovering from the recoil, then swung the gun left.  Previously he had a good visual line down the sights of the gun, but now he was firing blind, and he didn't want to hit Nikka.  He fired again, and the shot was wide.  Super fucking wide.  The recoil pushed the gun off target.  Snow recovered and missed again.  He recovered from the recoil again, but the cop was recovering his wits faster.  The cop pulled on Nikka, turning her to use her as a shield.  Snow moved the gun up and hit him in the neck.

The cop dropped Nikka and grabbed his throat with both hands.  Nikka scrambled away in a mad crawl that was somewhat bumbling because a surge of adrenaline made it difficult to control her limbs effectively.

Blood squirted out from between the cop's fingers.  The NSA agent bled out through his dick and collapsed.

Snow recovered from the recoil.  He wanted to shoot the cop in the dick too.  He knew the man had an erection.  He...just...couldnt...find...it.  Snow's eyes searched for a bulge somewhere in the fading black mass that was the man's pants, right up until he passed out, the gun falling from his hand.

Unfortunately for Nikka and unbeknownst to Snow, with his limited field of vision, the impending threesome was actually going to be a four man gang bang culminating not only in cumshots of justice but in a summary execution that would be later ruled as a suicide.  In fact, it was Detective Ramsey who actually had first dibs on Nikka's pussy.  And it was Detective Ramsey, the previously unknown, shotgun wielding law enforcement officer, who rounded the corner when he heard Snow's gun drop.

Nikka saw him, screamed, and curled up in a ball.  Ramsey's attention drifted to Snow.

"FUCK YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT," he screamed, white hot rage in his eyes and spittle flying from his mouth.  "You better not fucking die on me shitbag.  I'm gonna burn you alive and I'm gonna skull fuck that bitch over your burned-"  The detective's white knuckled grip accidentally set the shotgun off, pushing a deer slug into the ceiling.

Which...well I don't know how to introduce this, but this is when the (a?) baseball bat crushed Ramsey's skull.  Obviously a tire iron would have been more thematic for this new character, but this being an emergency, the gents had to grab the nearest objects in the trunks, being that they did not have guns on them.  Yes, gents.  Two of them, now.

The wielder of the bat was a moderately attractive, highly tattooed muscular type who would not look out of place in a shitty Nickelback music video.  He moved more like a cat, though, and had absolutely no room in his brain for style or theatrics.  By the time Ramsey's head hit the ground it had actually been bashed with the bat twice more, and in about a second the man had leaned down and snapped the detective's neck, a more or less automatic move to ensure the enemy was dead.  The cop and NSA agent received their own proverbial double-taps shortely thereafter.

"Holy shit, Biff," said the man behind him.  "Remind me never to piss you off."

"Get Nikka," growled Biff.

The other man--well I can't think of a cool way to introduce him so I'll just tell you he's Jason (I know, not really a cool name anyway.  In fact he's not really a cool character; he's just Jason.  In fact that his his allterative superhero name:  Just Jason) -- he rushed over to Nikka and scooped her into his arms.

Biff examined Snow's body, and, with the worried eye of a complete amateur ignorant of basic first aid, pronounced him ready for transport and hooked him in a fireman's carry.

Obviously Biff exited the building carrying Snow and Jason carrying Nikka.  It was very poetic.  The only way it could have been more poetic was if the building was on fire also.  But it wasnt.  Picture the building on fire though; just imagine it.  Yeah, that's what I'm talking about.

A short time later, Biff's black muscle car, with Nikka and Snow, followed by Jason's prius, screeched around the last bend in the road and shot onto the bridge to Coder's Island, a sort of long cobblestoned causeway lined with stone gargoyles on each side.  Ak-wielding women clad in corsets and combat boots stood guard at the entrance to the island, allowing the cars to pass.

The ninjas were safe.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

[Fiction] Damaged Goods, Part ???

Snow winced and pushed cordage and other debris from his head.  The topgallant sails were aflame, and the fire was racing down the masts.  The dragon, flying ahead of the ship, turned abruptly in midair and for a brief moment its silhouette appeared to fill the sun.

Every starboard gun was exploded.  Shrapnel and dead bodies lay everywhere.  But the barky wasn't sunk yet, and she still had half her teeth.  The stench of burning sailcloth mixed with charred flesh, burnt metal, and the slow-match burning in its tubs.

"Larboard guns!" screamed Snow.  "Fire as she bears!"  He gave the orders to turn the ship, but the pilot was dead.  Snow ran to the wheel and watched the dragon, waiting.

The dragon dived for the ship, reaching an astonishing speed in seconds.  Snow waited until the beast was within pistol shot before turning the ship hard to starboard, bringing the larboard guns to bear on the monster, one by one.  And one by one they fired, a tremendous rolling broadside that could be heard over the horizon.  More than half of them hit home.  But the creature's fiery breath still bathed each cannon in flame and set the entire larboard side of the ship aflame.

Great heaps of burning sail fell to the deck.  The ship was consumed by fire.  Nearly every man above the waterline was burnt to death and everyone below it was as good as lost.

But they had wounded it.  It was hard to see through the smoke, but the dragon was clearly limping.  It made a strange, half roar, half cawing sound.

The dragon was gearing up for another pass.  Snow leapt from the quarterdeck and ran along the enflamed ganways.  By the time he reached the forecastle his clothing was on fire and his sword hilt was hot to the touch.  It didn't matter.  The beast was bearing down on the ship, mere seconds away from prying the ship in two.

One strike is all Snow needed.  One man, one sword, one strike.  He drew his sword and leapt from the railing, just as....

And then Snow woke up.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Achievement Unlocked: Volleyball Training

It took place in a high school gym, so some cop looked at my license, wrote down my name and address in a book, and then I had to pass through a metal detector.  When I left, I was slightly better at bumping but slightly worse at serving.  All in all, the experience was underwhelming.

Friday, March 6, 2015

[coding] True Understanding

It is surprising what you may realize when you try to wring the same thing in two [programming] languages at the same time.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Achievement Unlocked: Goth Spin Class

Like Sisyphus, I am bound to hell.
--Sad Cat Diary

The "goth" spin class was not so much different from Soul Cycle.  There was no suicidal girl at the front, no symphonic metal, no industrial music...just pop and rap.  They turned off the lights for a bit.  I think that's their thing.  Also, there was none of this gay-ass bouncing up and down with your bodies, so I guess that should be a major bonus.  There was still standing up, but at least no bouncing around or workout bullshit.  The guy at the front told us to close our eyes on more than one occasion, though, so all in all I think Monster Cycle rates in there as Slightly Less Gay than Soul Cycle.

At one point they were showing a music video involving a motorcycle.  I had a sudden, incredibly strong urge to be on top of a 2 cylinder racing along some lonely, unbelievably straight rode in the middle of the country.

But I was on a fake bicycle, which reminds me:  at Monster you don't have to wear those stupid ass clip ins, however after doing a class without them, I suddenly understand why they are used: these fake bikes are basically fixed gears.  It is my guess that the tension knob actually just controls a clutch somewhere between the pedals and a very heavy flywheel, because once you get some momentum you can't just stop--a move I am accustomed to doing when riding off the seat, and one that nearly made me fall off my bike more than once.

There were a shit ton of girls there, and about 3 guys.  So I guess I'm gonna start doing this all the time now.  It beats running on a treadmill while watching re-runs of Everybody Loves Raymond.  Although with the treadmill I can control my workout more and experiment with intervals.  Apparently what I do is called HIIT.  Or something.  Whatever.

Achievement Unlocked: Fine Dining (Sushi)

Go to a Sushi Restaurant so expensive they individually describe every single piece of sushi they hand deliver at two or three pieces at a time.

So, I may have had my first brush with flakiness.  I had this date set up with a girl off of a dating site, and she apparently only likes to dine at expensive restaurants.  I thought it would be interesting to check out.  Unfortunately, I have this habit of not really treating anyone like a human being until I meet them in person, so I apparently neglected to sort of babysit her during the week leading up to the date, and when I emailed to confirm, she informed me that she was blowing me off because I didn't talk to her enough.  This would have been fine...except I had to prepay for this fucking reservation to the expensive ass restaurant she wanted to go to.

Fortunately, I was able to sort of secure a backup date off of the same website, and we had a great time.  This restaurant is apparently super famous among people who care, because it is new and the chef worked under some guy who is like the top sushi chef in Japan or something.  I hear he's a big deal.

So the sushi was pretty good.  I especially liked the Rockfish, which I've never had before.  I am obviously too classy to tell you how much the dinner cost me, but I will tell you that for the same amount of money I could have purchased 279 cheeseburgers from McDonalds.  Now that is before tax, but since that estimate is using the price of the two-cheeseburger meal, there's all of the fries and soda as well.

Shortly after the Sushi dinner, the first girl--who blew me off--reestablished contact with a brief "Hey" followed by "Where'd you disappear to?"  I assume she is still hoping I will buy her an incredibly expensive dinner.  Now, as the great and wise sage Ron White said, "this dick ain't gonna suck itself," so I do feel inclined to give her a second chance.  However, she was markedly unapologetic for wasting, or nearly wasting, both my time and money, so I'm not going to put much effort into a second meeting.  If she asks for it, I'll buy her a drink.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Achievement Unlocked: Speed Dating

I have never been "speed dating" before and I had no idea what to expect, and I wasn't really hoping for anything.  They told us to arrive 15 min early, and upon doing so, I saw a bar full of dudes and only two girls.  You know, Seattle style.

However, then the tide turned.  A bunch of girls showed up, and it was more or less even.  So that was exciting.  Also, almost all of the girls were attractive.  Before the event I was concerned that I wouldn't have anything to say, but lately I have decided that its no fun worrying about things in advance.  As Nelson said, "Never mind the maneuvers, just go straight at them."  So I just showed up without a plan or anything.  It was a pleasant experience.  Of course, I'm sure all of the girls were trying to make conversation whether they were attracted to me or not, because that's what I was doing.  So I guess in the next few days we'll find out if this was an effective means of meeting people.  It must work out for some people, because every girl I talked to said they had never done speed dating before.

I'm pretty sure talking to that many girls in such a short time period made me high.