Sleep evades me, especially when I am exhausted. Unused to rising before the dawn, yet when the time comes for rest my mind refuses to idle. Costume ideas, storylines, a potential birthday getaway to San Diego or San Francisco, even designs for a PVC pipe rifle stock for my camera stir within me. I keep vigil, using my prayers as a mantra to calm my thoughts until I drift into darkness.
There's a coolness to the wind, and I find myself breathing more freely as the salty air fills my nostrils. I see a few faint stars through the clouds, which were themselves illuminated by the full moon. I move on, my boots falling heavily upon the planks of the pier, a dull thud with each step. Nice night for a song, but the blues bar at the far end of the pier was nearly drowned out by the waves.
Fishermen were idling along the rail, lines swaying with the tide. One man was showing his son one of the gigantic crabs that sometimes come up with the moon. I chuckled at the sight of the kid poking a curious finger at it and jerking it back at the slightest twitch of a claw. With the size of that crab, I nearly wished for a crowbar.
I turned the collar up on my coat as I passed a couple cuddling while they gazed at the waves. Not a sight I needed right now, especially as the breeze had tickled the hairs on the back of my neck. Just like she used to. As much as I wished to do something with it, I should probably just get a haircut. Or maybe invest in a new hat.
As I walked along, I threw a few coins into an open instrument case and Satchmo blew a tune on his horn in appreciation. I lifted my fist, flicking up a thumb. I may be listening to a lot of Bond lately, but this will always remain true: Brass kicks ass.
The smell of orange chicken, fried rice, and roast duck drew me over to a Chinese food stand. I may not be Catholic, strictly speaking, but I keep some practices out of respect. Like giving up Panda Express for Lent. I patted my wallet through my pocket, but kept on walking. Until I caught the eye of the girl at the Hot Dog On A Stick stand. Never hurts to smile at a pretty girl, but again, not what I needed tonight. I moved along.
I continued until I reached the end of the pier, but the Blues bar had fallen silent. Satchmo kept playing, his horn crooning at me from where I left him. With nowhere else to go, I leaned against the railing, watching the waves, and a sea lion lounging out on a buoy. What was I looking for? And as I rubbed a hand against the stubble on my face, I wondered, why the hell am I wearing a pea coat? I hate pea coats.
I opened my eyes and reached over for my iPod. I was out for half an hour.
Meh. It's not like I need to get up early anyways...
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
The Girl
Sleep evades me. As I lie here in the darkness, my mind whirs at a mile a second. This happens sometimes, all my thoughts, plans, ideas, a tempest I sometimes lose myself in. It takes awhile to find the center, so I keep vigil and pray as I await the eye of the storm.
My eyes close for just a moment. I see her, perched atop a brick wall outside the school in a green shirt dress with black tights and tan lace-up boots that came to her knees. Her sword was sheathed, and gripped tightly in a gloved hand as she looked on towards the parking lot. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, save for her bangs, which she brushed out of her eyes with her free hand.
Then she ran. The start was so sudden, She was halfway along the wall before I realized, and I bolted after her. As she came to the end she leaped off, slinging her sword scabbard over a shoulder, and landed without breaking her stride. As I caught up to her, the flash of a memory blinded me, and I was jolted awake.
I reached over for my iPod and squinted against the sudden brightness as I checked the time. It was four in the morning. Technically Three. Damn farmers. The dream was still vivid in my mind. I didn't consider Becca having ninja moves, even though she's skilled with the jian. Then again, her stride was much like Ezio from Assassin's Creed II, so there's that mystery solved.
The memory was still flashing through my mind, like the shadows of a firework when you close your eyes. She was the first. I can still see that blonde ponytail swaying along with her hips as she glided along the sidewalk. And the spark of mischief in her green eyes when she turned around on her rollerblades and smiled at me.
That was well over a decade ago. A strange remembrance to have, but then chasing after Becca would have brought that up, I suppose. The girl in my memories moved away soon after that summer. The one in my musings still has her story to share. Mayhaps she is the inheritor of her smile, and the possibilities therein. Time will tell.
I still have an hour and a half before I must arise. I'll try to ask her before then.
My eyes close for just a moment. I see her, perched atop a brick wall outside the school in a green shirt dress with black tights and tan lace-up boots that came to her knees. Her sword was sheathed, and gripped tightly in a gloved hand as she looked on towards the parking lot. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, save for her bangs, which she brushed out of her eyes with her free hand.
Then she ran. The start was so sudden, She was halfway along the wall before I realized, and I bolted after her. As she came to the end she leaped off, slinging her sword scabbard over a shoulder, and landed without breaking her stride. As I caught up to her, the flash of a memory blinded me, and I was jolted awake.
I reached over for my iPod and squinted against the sudden brightness as I checked the time. It was four in the morning. Technically Three. Damn farmers. The dream was still vivid in my mind. I didn't consider Becca having ninja moves, even though she's skilled with the jian. Then again, her stride was much like Ezio from Assassin's Creed II, so there's that mystery solved.
The memory was still flashing through my mind, like the shadows of a firework when you close your eyes. She was the first. I can still see that blonde ponytail swaying along with her hips as she glided along the sidewalk. And the spark of mischief in her green eyes when she turned around on her rollerblades and smiled at me.
That was well over a decade ago. A strange remembrance to have, but then chasing after Becca would have brought that up, I suppose. The girl in my memories moved away soon after that summer. The one in my musings still has her story to share. Mayhaps she is the inheritor of her smile, and the possibilities therein. Time will tell.
I still have an hour and a half before I must arise. I'll try to ask her before then.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Shinobi
The humidity is a killer. Heat, I can deal with, but the feel of sweat pouring off my back doesn't help my focus. The air feels not quite as thick as the jungle, but it takes me a moment to steady my breath.
I should have brought a mat. Lying in wait, I'm used to, but the pebbles against my ribs aren't helping my aim.
I see them emerge from the tree line across the ravine. They take their positions, same as I, and target the rebels coming through the pass. I slow my breath, center the sniper in my scope, adjust for wind.
I'm far enough away that I don't have to worry about the noise giving away my position. Even so, as I move my finger from the trigger guard, I find it strange that I'm using non-lethal tranquilizer rounds. Yet I can't complain about their effectiveness as the sniper falls senseless from my first shot. I work the bolt, target the spotter, but he flees before I can properly sight him. As the rebels move through the ravine unscathed, I pack up and start walking.
As I left the Spanish chattering of the rebel group behind, I come to a drainage tunnel embedded in a hill. It's large enough to walk through, and seems to lead from the Villa, where the rebels are headed. Might be an escape route for The General. He'd probably fetch a nice reward if I could catch him. It feels cooler inside, at any rate.
I walked along until I started to lose sight of the light at the exit. A few more tentative steps into the shadows, and I found an underground concrete bunker. The door was a heavy steel slab, but it slid open easily. There was a short hallway inside, but beyond that came the screams. And the sound of metal slamming against metal.
The arcs of electricity coming off of his body illuminated the room like flashes of lightning. He drove his head into the wall again and again, setting sparks off from the friction between the wall and his helmet. I flicked the switch next to the door way, hitting some floodlights. Aside from a labyrinth of steel girders overhead, the place looked empty. And as he turned towards me, the glowing red eye in his faceplate ablaze, I thought I should have kept it that way.
He charged towards me in rapid steps, but stopped a few feet away. His exoskeleton sent out a few faint arcs, lower in intensity than before, and he clutched his sides, doubled over in pain. Then he seemed to swell before my eyes.
"Fox!"
He didn't respond to his name, continuing to hulk out before me. As his breath grew deeper and more ragged, I knew there wasn't a Gray Fox in there, or Frank Jeager. I doubt he was even the ninja anymore. When he finished growing, this hulk-ninja roared and leaped at me. I jumped back, but he snatched my rifle, snapping it in two between his fingers. I barely ducked in time as he followed through with a swipe of his arm, and as he stumbled from the swing, I jumped into the girders above us.
I couldn't see the top, but I kept climbing, hoping for a way out. A glimmer caught my eye, and I saw the high-frequency blade lying on a girder just out of reach. The whole cage shook, and the sword slid closer to the edge as Frank displayed a new ape-like agility to go along with his new hulked out form. I swung from the girder I was hanging on over to the sword and snatched it before it could fall.
The blade felt alive in my hand, vibrating, pulsing with it's own heartbeat, faster than a humming bird. It even gave off it's own sound as I climbed up, seeing Frank settle onto the girder before me. He charged again, letting out another feral scream. I held the sword up and made a quick thrust.
The tip penetrated the glowing eye, shattering it. As it's light faded, his face plate popped open, revealing his scarred features. His body shrank back to it's normal proportions as he fell into the shadows, and the blade slipped from my grasp to follow. Guess it felt my job was done. I still had a climb.
A few minutes later had me reach a circular hatch in the ceiling. I opened it, and clambered out into the blinding sun.
Frank Jeager. The Cyborg Ninja. I always wanted to do his armor, but I just don't have the right build for it. Of course, now that I'm playing Metal Gear Solid 4, it's odd that this particular ninja should come up, especially when Raiden is the current one. Perhaps my subconscious is telling me to take a break from the video games for awhile.
I should have brought a mat. Lying in wait, I'm used to, but the pebbles against my ribs aren't helping my aim.
I see them emerge from the tree line across the ravine. They take their positions, same as I, and target the rebels coming through the pass. I slow my breath, center the sniper in my scope, adjust for wind.
I'm far enough away that I don't have to worry about the noise giving away my position. Even so, as I move my finger from the trigger guard, I find it strange that I'm using non-lethal tranquilizer rounds. Yet I can't complain about their effectiveness as the sniper falls senseless from my first shot. I work the bolt, target the spotter, but he flees before I can properly sight him. As the rebels move through the ravine unscathed, I pack up and start walking.
As I left the Spanish chattering of the rebel group behind, I come to a drainage tunnel embedded in a hill. It's large enough to walk through, and seems to lead from the Villa, where the rebels are headed. Might be an escape route for The General. He'd probably fetch a nice reward if I could catch him. It feels cooler inside, at any rate.
I walked along until I started to lose sight of the light at the exit. A few more tentative steps into the shadows, and I found an underground concrete bunker. The door was a heavy steel slab, but it slid open easily. There was a short hallway inside, but beyond that came the screams. And the sound of metal slamming against metal.
The arcs of electricity coming off of his body illuminated the room like flashes of lightning. He drove his head into the wall again and again, setting sparks off from the friction between the wall and his helmet. I flicked the switch next to the door way, hitting some floodlights. Aside from a labyrinth of steel girders overhead, the place looked empty. And as he turned towards me, the glowing red eye in his faceplate ablaze, I thought I should have kept it that way.
He charged towards me in rapid steps, but stopped a few feet away. His exoskeleton sent out a few faint arcs, lower in intensity than before, and he clutched his sides, doubled over in pain. Then he seemed to swell before my eyes.
"Fox!"
He didn't respond to his name, continuing to hulk out before me. As his breath grew deeper and more ragged, I knew there wasn't a Gray Fox in there, or Frank Jeager. I doubt he was even the ninja anymore. When he finished growing, this hulk-ninja roared and leaped at me. I jumped back, but he snatched my rifle, snapping it in two between his fingers. I barely ducked in time as he followed through with a swipe of his arm, and as he stumbled from the swing, I jumped into the girders above us.
I couldn't see the top, but I kept climbing, hoping for a way out. A glimmer caught my eye, and I saw the high-frequency blade lying on a girder just out of reach. The whole cage shook, and the sword slid closer to the edge as Frank displayed a new ape-like agility to go along with his new hulked out form. I swung from the girder I was hanging on over to the sword and snatched it before it could fall.
The blade felt alive in my hand, vibrating, pulsing with it's own heartbeat, faster than a humming bird. It even gave off it's own sound as I climbed up, seeing Frank settle onto the girder before me. He charged again, letting out another feral scream. I held the sword up and made a quick thrust.
The tip penetrated the glowing eye, shattering it. As it's light faded, his face plate popped open, revealing his scarred features. His body shrank back to it's normal proportions as he fell into the shadows, and the blade slipped from my grasp to follow. Guess it felt my job was done. I still had a climb.
A few minutes later had me reach a circular hatch in the ceiling. I opened it, and clambered out into the blinding sun.
Frank Jeager. The Cyborg Ninja. I always wanted to do his armor, but I just don't have the right build for it. Of course, now that I'm playing Metal Gear Solid 4, it's odd that this particular ninja should come up, especially when Raiden is the current one. Perhaps my subconscious is telling me to take a break from the video games for awhile.
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