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Akira (1988)

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Just like the real thing.

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.”Cyber City Oedo 808″ (Japanese: サイバーシティ OEDO 808) directed by Yoshiaki Kawajiri

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gif by Valenberg

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κη͵ Veils

The Fusion is a place that gradually grows on you over time. High corporate life filter in and out of the floating oasis that hovers in the heart of the East district. The sight of exuberant souls intertwines and move in rhythm to piano music- from fine wine that flows through their bodies and leave their minds addled to all the fears and sorrows that surround them from the city of Insilico. The entrance alone was something of an illusion to lure guests into the pearly white interior that cuddles snowy fog and mingles with the sweet scent of perfume secreting from high-class synthetic sex-dolls. It all feels like the ideal hallucination of what heaven could be; a heaven host to those who dress in the masks of angels.

Too many times I found myself here, no better than the rest who frequent the venue. Petty, obnoxious business figures holding drab conversations about corporate culture, their high grades of BTLs, and how big…of a UBC account they had. It becomes tiring. Frequent cameos of Mr. Sullivan was usually a decent break from it. But he had become such a bore as of late, and who would know when he’d catch a clue. Someone else would have to do in piquing my interest instead. No one was in sight though; no one to drive my curiosity. I sat alone, only in the company of a glass of moët running empty and a waitress of the staff to refill it. Nikita… was her name. Easily spooked. A simple sight of scars etched on my chest was enough to make her feel uneasy- and even the sound of piano keys being struck from the center piece of the bar would startle her. 

The song being played… Moonlight Sonata.

I recognized it immediately within the first two bars being played. The 2nd Movement. I had to set my glass down and fully take in the sound. No distractions, no need for a buzz- the music was enough to carry my mind away. And so, I tucked long strands behind my ear to catch the full tone of the piano. Yet, my eyes felt curious to catch a glance to the musician at work. It was no other than Mr. Hughes. The fiery-haired devil. It had been many moons since the last I had seen him. Within the midst of his playing he caught my eye in contact with his, taking a moment to flash a smile and greet me.

"It’s been a while since I have been home. How are you doing? Please forgive me... it’s been a while, your name alludes me but your face is familiar."

I couldn’t say that was the first time I heard that. But of course, I played coy… just for a moment. Enough to let him pull his attention back to playing. Enough time for me to let up from my seat and trail behind him out of his sight and offer my name in a light airy tone of voice to carry through the cool breeze like cries of a siren…

His reaction in turn… was dull, though to follow with amusement as I would continue my attempt to charm him with irrelevant chit-chat as he concluded his playing while sipping my champagne until my glass went parched. The bar would continue to fill in as we spoke, and in-turn distracting him from me. The man had my highest interest, though, more than anyone else there, and I had to make sure he would know that. It had become my mission to learn more about him.

So, I sat down to the piano, and began playing; finishing where he left off to continue in with the 3rd Movement of the Sonata and in hopes to grab his attention more. The piano was an instrument I had much loathed in my later teen years, but re-experiencing the emotion of the music proved to be cathartic as I played. My fingers interlocked and danced gracefully along the keys in the alternating arpeggio of notes, all in sequence from years of muscle memory. It was something I was required to master, by Poppa’s wishes. An impression to leave. One of many ways to prove to be able to stay. To fit in…

"Again."

My attention would span over to my right. A miss-press of a key towards my finishing. A fuck up. No. It was just Mr. Hughes, standing beside me to offer a glass of wine; a drink he had promised me from the many moons ago. Our conversation would continue, and I would learn even more of him to follow. He turned out to be the manager of the Fusion, but also an advertiser to the Reakt0r and Buddha Bowl. A very busy man he was, with very many talents. I went on to tease him, poking fun for forgetting my name, yet remembering the promise to buy me a drink.

“I have talents. I remember faces and what I promise to them rather than just names. You can have many names, but not many faces."

Words of many truths that stuck out to me and tossed my mind into wonder.

I finally took the glass he had for me, in hand. “Merlot… side of tears of blood.” "My favorite flavor… " I would joke with him. A joke that left a daring impression on him. A joke that would pull his full attention towards me, in which an invitation back to his private quarters would be requested…

…and that I would accept.

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κζ͵ Atropos [Part 2]

The time had come for the hunters to become the hunted.

One on the inside, another on the outside. Close quarters, long distance. Both heavily armed. Both in perfect positions to counter anything to break into the path of their scope. I was outnumbered, and I was outgunned. But there was sure to be a loophole. There was always a loophole. I’ve run the routes hundreds of times. From below, from the center and from far above. The south connecting tunnel… the alternate lift to the crowned pagoda. The canals of the north and the malls that lead directly to my targets. But there were too many… too many people far below crammed together and trampling along the central area. It would all only be obstacles. It would all only be psychological. A detour could be created to travel into another angle to my destination. Down underneath the North district and through the back alleyways of the Aftermath’s silhouette. An area where the old underground used to stand before the city-wide construction. With only a few tools to wield and use at my disposal, fear and shadows would be my only allies, as well as the night nurse that whispered into my ear to guide me along the threads that lead to my target.

The setting of fear was the first thing that needed to be planted. A distraction to generate an illusion of threat and then extricate deep looming thoughts to invade the concentration of my target. It would begin by secluding them and overturning their conscience to become the only thing in their reliance. It would become the only thing they would be able to hear. A single quiet voice that would loop and then multiply, and then spread, mutate, and slowly turn against them. “You shouldn’t… you couldn’t… you can’t… you won’t.” Louder and louder, to cause panic and then twist and distort their perception. Shivers to follow. Chills. Sweat. And the drumming of a heavy heartbeat.

It all started with the perfect snare. A seed sown and left to blossom into a nightshade for the entrapment of an unfortunate victim to devour its berries. And so I planted the first crop for the prey that stood nested far ahead. The first step to take towards my long journey to come would be a great fall deep into the depths of the shadows of the city. A step over the edge, in where…

I fell.

Into the black underbelly and through the valleys and the shadows of death. Flickering scarlet lights saturated the atmosphere around me and cast from busted neon signs unhinged from shattered, dismantled concrete walls. The surroundings were host to the ghastliest smell of rotting meat, sewage, and smoke with hellish beings immersed within it to stand before me and greet my arrival with devilish glares. I was witnessed upon all the unwanted and all the unspeakable; all of the forgotten beings that had become demonized by society. They would sit as the last bit of essence from a fallen labyrinth tunnels of the old underground, where they were left imprisoned and stood on an inevitable path towards death. But they would only vanish and fade in my quick passing; blurs turned into the background as a haunting memory to be left to the ruins. It was all just imaginary. It was all only temporary. It was all only psychological. The worst had passed the best was soon to come, with a second seed to be laid to harvest upon the northern bridge following into the other side of the district. A skyscraper would then stand before me as my last obstacle to climb, rising overhead and scraping through the dark smog that cocooned the building with thin beams of light pricking through the heavy hugging haze.

The climb was excruciating. A climb with my grapple gun that left me breathless with a short moment to rest. The top of The 7 Seas lied just ahead, gazing back at me with a shimmering aqua beacon of light to reflect off of my visor lens. Shallow clouds floating around me would then begin to fall to stillness for my mind to transpire into idleness. My breaths were the only thing left I could hear and had finally began to slow down. I was able to find a moment of warmth, silence, and solitude to be left to the whispers of my thoughts. Mere whispers that would echo inside the realms of my mind. Whispers that would carry louder and turn into voices….

No. Poppa. It was only psychological. And I wasn’t going to fuck it up. It was only the wind… whispers of the wind. The only thing I needed to listen to. Electric whispers that would carry from the night nurse. Another voice that was there by my side. And another voice I was always able to trust. “You should… you could… you can…and you will.” My breathing had grown heavier again, with a rush of blood flow to follow. My pupils dilated and my adrenaline spiked. The heavy pounding of a drum. The tensing of my muscles and the squeezing of a trigger by my finger to release hell upon my first target.

It began with the first ominous sound of thunder banging from afar. A flicker of bright light bursting along the skyline and then a sudden eruption of flames to explode and invoke a wave of shock that accelerated through hollowing winds and carried gasps and screams. And then I squeezed another trigger again. Another thunderous bang that would come from below. An explosion that awakened nearby auto-turrets of the northern bridge that turned and fired in defense with beams of light piercing through the air streams and into the crowned pagoda. Sparks flew, spurts of lasers ricocheted and ignited along the lift where my first target stood, along the restaurant tower, and then to its roof to where…

I jumped.

A shrieking alarm chimed warnings immediately as I landed with The 7 Seas beneath my feet. “Contact above, contact above,” could be heard in the tone of a flat mechanical voice and segued into the organic sound of hers- my target, bellowing out curses in native Neo-Tokyo tongue and screams to my arrival. And so I lowered myself down to one knee to give her the opportunity to continue her outcries with repeated blind gunshots firing from a pulse rifle towards my position. I stood still, braced myself, and paused patiently with a smile. She would finally turn quiet to reload, where I would have an opportunity to counter with the gifting of an EMP grenade that would fall down below to her feet. "Shimatta--!” she screamed. The grenade exploded and cut off everything around her at her aid. She was all alone and her conscious was the last thing to stand close by her side… a conscious that I already knew would be corrupted from fear and turn against her. And so I rose quickly and turned to face her from above. Gazing down at her through glowing red lens, taking aim and firing a single silenced shot from my pistol. Her face then turned bright white. The feeling of an icicle cutting into her chest to invoke violent shudders and spasms to slam her body over and over against the cold metal beneath her. Crimson would spread and her eyes stopped still with a blank stare left to look up into the blue-black sky.

It all ended so quickly. A hit-and-run. Only a taste of the plenty more I hungered for. And so I stepped over her and gazed down at her lifeless body to strip her of all of her tools… her weapons, her comm and her identification. Kei Fujiwara. Her sniper rifle lied dormant by her side. A sniper rifle that could come in handy for more fun times to come. But then a sudden sound of an old squeaking lift would soon echo in the distance from the crowned pagoda. Ah yes…the other one. I had almost forgotten. Preparations needed to be made for whatever could come next. So I stepped back, and placed down the shell of another seed aside her resting body that laid on the lift's platform, tucking myself into nearby shadows and bracing my hand tightly around the sheath of my blade and raising my pistol up in the other. “Target down. One remains,” I whispered into electric winds to travel to the night nurse. And then the platform in front of me began to fall slowly back down to the city streets. My heart would start to race again, the heat in my body would rise with the desire to feed more into my appetite. And then I nibbled my bottom lip, my cheeks swelled to turn into a devious grin and…

I waited.

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κζ͵ Atropos [Part 1]

It was the usual late night stroll. The sky tainted into a deep indigo haze raining down and overcasting skyline tops that smeared and blended into the blackness of the city’s underbelly. The ports were running rapidly around that time, which was much to be expected towards the end of a week. High traffic was always a hotbed for pickpockets, con-artists, black market dim sum dealers and street walkers. It always makes for the perfect opportunity to trick over the simple-minded. However, the quieter nights were where the real action always stirred. Those are the nights where the most despicable crawl out like rats from every dirty crack and crevice the city has to offer. Those rats had especially been more frequent lately. Like that one malakas…but who knows where he had been.

Someone like that was the least of my worries at that moment though. The ports were a dead end at the time for whom I was seeking, and there was still plenty more surrounding to cover. Nesting still for far too long could only leave me blindsided.

The Shades was my next destination… the place where the cracks and crevices of the city spread from. Where the ports and underground were the shadows of the darkest acts, the Shades was the smudge that blurred everything together along the city canvas. Anyone and everyone always had business there. Unlike any other area of the city, the Shades always held an eerie stillness to it by first appearance. You always knew something especially despicable was happening there at any given moment. It was the only place where you’d find anyone from high society sneaking in and tinting to the resources of the lower class. Where the East district held the rest of the city by an iron fist, the Shades was the production line- it’s sweatshops. If you wanted to keep your hands clean, you went to the Shades to supply for your dirty deeds. It’s always best to have a few allies in the greyer hues of the city. Suppliers to get you from point A to point B. Your BTL sellers, your weapon traders, your augment hustlers…your night nurses. Through every narrow tunnel, dark corridor, tight alleyway, abandoned warehouse or lab, you were sure to find someone. Anyone.

Those persons of interests, however, were still seemingly nowhere within my sights, once again.

The East area was sure to follow between my patrol points. A place where I usually step lightly garbed in the most appealing of attire. A short-cut cocktail dress, ruby smile, and charm of words along with a twist of flirt always set for the perfect bait. Places like the Fusion work especially well for this, where the corporate fat-cats go to play. Countless glasses of nigori and bragging in attempts to grab a pretty face were always sure to end the night with too many foolish slips and spills. It was always the wealthiest that fell prey into the alluring appearance of a belladonna. As long as you were dressed to kill, you would always find a way around getting what you wanted.

I was dressed for such an occasion. An occasion for killing. Not too many, however, would give fond eye to an unfamiliar, fully armored person strapped with an array of weaponry eyeing around at nearby crowds. Higher ground was the best option to move through and scale old Gemini buildings while avoiding any newly updated AEON surveillances. Poppa could be to thank for my familiarity to the old security complexes of Gemini facilities. Scaling between the high-rise towers was always best done carefully scanning the area first, to avoid being detected for unauthorized movement before making way towards the city central. A notification would soon enter my visor display to interrupt during the midst of my routine planning. A notification of the most pleasant news from a dear acquaintance. The timing couldn’t be more perfect. All the preparation and tedious cycles of routes taken to plan for the inevitable moment of the encounter had finally arrived. A moment I had desired since the tasting of juyondai from the crowned pagoda.

[Incoming SMS from 'Night Nurse’ OCT06:20:27] “It is time: Entry has been made.”

The time had come for the hunters to become the hunted.

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κϛ͵Succubus

It has been weeks since that previous encounter. Being bound in the Shades in that dark room would be something of a night-terror brought to reality. That abrupt void and the separation anxiety slowly creeps into your psyche as you lie there paralyzed from the aftermath. Yet, it is something only of the imagination and a waste of sentiment. It is better to be the Devil’s advocate and look at it as an opportunity to rest and follow with haste to the occasion. Being able to awaken into dawn for once was something at the least to cherish.

I suppose you could say that was a most pleasurable gift that he was able to leave me with. It would've been most rude not to return the favor to show my appreciation for it. Of course, I had many promises I was supposed to keep all for him. However, at that instant feeding for my own guilty lust again was all I wanted. It had been far too long, and that one last engagement together… even for such a short occasion left me breathless. Those occasions had been far too rare for me nowadays.

It brought me back to those sunsets, sunrises, and deep nights of Neo Tokyo. Days transitioning between gradient cycles in the sky, that would all emerge as a haze in my mind. Neon club lights, those random dive bar fights, conspicuous alleys at night, and long dreary flights.

Such a constant lifestyle all becomes procedural after a while. Leaving very little time to rest and savor upon each moment. It became something I was so spoiled to. All the dressing up and preparation and putting on your best face for that alluring engagement to finally come. All for just one person. It always seemed like it could take forever to get so close. All the teasing and dancing around with them. Getting used to their patterns and learning just what makes them tick. Knowing just what they want and using it to your advantage.Finally finding that time to be alone together before that pure, blissful entanglement of matrimony unfolds.

It all begins to rise. That fever approaching. The heavy pounding in your chest. For anyone inexperienced to such a feeling would expect fright. Such a feeling was anything but that, however, such a feeling was an aphrodisiac in itself for me.

It is usually at that second where that feeling would stop far too soon. Those concluding seconds with eyes locked, before it all faded away...

But him…  he had far more in him than that. This would be our second time, far more intimate than the last. And so began that chase again, with the heat escalating between us. The foreplay and the struggle. The clutching and ripping apart at one another. The pure rush of adrenaline climbing more and more into that final thrust… that final thrust that sends a cold sweat and chill up your spine. Leaving you gasping for air.

All that's left from there is silence...

But him... once again he was different than most. He was a noisy one. So talkative. So damn talkative. Breaking me out of the glorious daydream of that undelivered ominous final thrust that looped in my head.

He wanted answers. Question- after fucking question. That malakas. And as I told him that “it wasn’t personal,” he proceeded to pry on more. I told him I was only there “to calm him.” I wanted to give him that long rest he finally deserved. I was there to return the favor so faithfully he had also sought to me. To simply allow me, to let him finally find such peace.

But... then he let out a twisted cackle to interrupt my thoughts. A wicked, disgusting, distorted, wheezing cackle in mockery while he rose to one knee to speak more.

“… do not come after me again, or next time might be the last…”

I couldn’t help but let off a smug grin, though hidden from him not being able to see my expression. Just like that, it ended so abruptly. Right in that final moment with nothing but that void left. All that trouble put in, wasn’t enough... all for him just to run off again... into the shadows. And yet I left him with those final words that he was, “...unimportant to me.”

But after all of that, in all honesty... he had become important to me. And if there would be a next time, I could not fuck up again.

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κε͵Dawn

The morning after is always the worst. That dreadful bashing noise; like a heavy pounding on a thick steel door…a heavy pounding banging nonstop in my head, reminding me of the mistake I made from the night before, after the Aftermath. Sharp needles prick over and over into my ears, my head, and my leg. My leg… I can barely move it. It tingles and it feels so heavy. It feels like it’s being weighed down by an anchor. This… this all feels like a nightmare, but my eyes- they are far too wide. I’ve slept too long already. I need to get back on my feet. 

There’s blood… everywhere.

All I can do is shake my head now. Poppa would be so unhappy with me. That never-ending judgement and shaming. That endless scolding he’d always give me every time I did this; every time I’d end up like this. Every time I’d fuck up. Why do I even let it eat away at me at this point? Why do I still lament over it and let it hold me back? He’s gone now, and this is what I have always been. This… is what feels right. This… is what comes naturally to me. This… is what gets the job done.

The day has already started without me, and I am now far too behind on schedule. I hate it, but I have to be patient. One step at a time; the “doctor’s” orders. She did well under the circumstances. I was right to come, as I did when Mr Sullivan was last here. But I must rise now with the sun, and do it again. This scar left will just be a reminder of another fuck up. Another tally to be marked upon the canvas of my skin of another asshole who got the best of me again. But this isn’t over just yet.

This is just the beginning.

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κγ͵Night

Oh, the Aftermath, such an ironic name for the venue. Not a place I usually step into nowadays. Usually, a place I’d know better to step into unless I was looking for trouble. I’d be lucky to make it through to the bar counter without being shoved around and groped by the stampede of dancing monotonous drones synchronized by elusive rhythms molesting their minds. That, however, was not the case for the night. You could count the number of people inside the venue on your fingers. It was those sparse leftovers of people scattering around to hook up and screw around- screw each other or screw with whatever. It was that kind of crowd, and it was just only turning midnight. Maybe I should’ve followed my senses to not go after all... Whatever.   I would be up late as always. So I decided to stick around for a while. There was a bartender running around behind the pine, the same one as always. A thin woman, short hair with a half shave and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Always with the cigarette. I hate cigarettes. Nevertheless, I sat down at the counter on one of the stools- an uneven one. There were a few patrons gathered around talking on some of the past nights at the bar. One of them, I’d seen before, as well as even talked to. Her name was Rieko, and she was rattling on about whatever she does vaguely as per usual. So I painted on friendly smile and carried on the general conversation to pass the time, and got a drink while I was at it.

I asked for my usual, mezcal. In a place like Aftermath, I’d only expect tequila…but would soon be proven wrong. Rieko and I continued to converse on her business, which to this day- I am still not even sure on what she does. Something about a rat problem… something about a bioengineer being needed… something I lost interest in soon after she stated that. Unimportant. But there would be one thing to pique my ears. Her conversation with the bartender about a recent shooting. A victim named Aftermath, I’d only expect tequila…but would soon be proven wrong. Rieko and I continued to converse on her business, which to this day- I am still not even sure on what she does. Something about a rat problem… something about a bioengineer being needed… something I lost interest in soon after she stated that. Unimportant. But there would be one thing to pique my ears. Her conversation with the bartender about a recent shooting. A victim named Alari. An attempted robbery.

Rieko went on to question on the current events to the bartender. The bartender went on about “…some asshole, who wore some kind of mask. Who kept calling me meat.” I could not help but react to the surrounding talk of the mishap. That name... 'Alari.' The two kept going on about the horror of what happened to her. A woman in armor, black-clad…and quiet. So familiar. The Fusion. The Buddha Bowl. A woman with soft eyes… The more the two talked about the situation. The more it started to piss me off. I knew better than to come to a place like the Aftermath. I knew it would be trouble. I knew that I’d fall into the middle of something like this. But at that moment, I didn’t care. The beautiful, duchess façade I garbed myself with began to wilt away rapidly. My eyes turned thin and cold and I couldn’t help but cut in. I wanted this asshole’s name. I wanted to know what he looked like, and I made sure the bartender would tell me at that very second. Arrow. Ex-military. Arrow... Ex-military... Some asshole who decided to shoot a woman and treat the other as his meat. I really hated cigarettes. But I really hated any asshole who sought to take advantage of the weak. I could feel the muscles in my face twitch, and my emotions were ready to erupt in reaction. But I needed to calm myself. I was already putting myself in too deep. But it was too late anyways. It is what I came to Aftermath for. It is what I wanted. It is what I should have expected.

"I do hope you get the proper security you deserve here," was all I could say at the moment, and sip my drink. Cool down, relax and act along with the conversations of the regulars. I’d sit there quiet for a bit and listen closely to Rieko go onto to ask more on the situation. She went on about there being, "no Turrets there…” and how… “…there was a surveillance system there at one time, but got yanked ironically for security purposes.”  The two continued on somewhat lightheartedly about the situation. Some words on “ISS looking into it” and so on. I couldn’t help but lose my appetite to drink my mezcal. The boss could afford top shelf bottles but not proper security for the employees? Just sickening. I couldn’t help but share my judgement on the situation, to the sight of the bartender responding with stuttered words and trembling.

"…I'm sure it's just part of the whole upheaval that's been going over the entire city…  Like, Rieko just said the surveillance were here once but had to be removed…” I only heard all that I needed to. She said more. But the rest of it to me, unimportant. Rieko had begun to leave at that point… ---

… and some time after Rieko left, I made an agreement with the bartender…Ash. The girl didn't have a lot of credits to offer, but that did not matter. She had something else I wanted so badly. The means for getting it… The amount for obtaining it… And the risks it would take to get it were- Unimportant.

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κβ͵Dusk

Every time I came back, I always looked up. Somewhere in time, waters like these existed… waters like these of the 7 Seas. The calm they would bring, the endless horizon. It would seem to be something unimaginable; something impossible for my mind to perhaps even understand. Yet, I always came back every week, looking up to it for an answer- that message… in a bottle. But- all I see in return of it every time is my own reflection.

I always became lost in a deep dark sea of thoughts. Those thoughts of mine, that always got the best of me. A deep craving, I could never escape. That vice I fed into to fill that void within me. The temporary sense of power with every taste. Obsessing over it… falling addicted to it. It became that image in my own reflection.

And yet the night falls deeper upon me. Another night. Another crawl of bars and drink, and random flirt, and chat with addled souls for my own amusement. The posh life could only entertain for so long. The jazz lounges, the supper bars, the niche spots with the kitsch décor. I had an appetite for something deeper and more alluring for my palate. The usual bottle at the crowned pagoda would hold me over, but atlas that had gone empty. Something else had to fill that space. There was only an hour left before dinner service was over and idling much longer wouldn’t do much more good. Perhaps I should just go with the flow of the night, like that of everyone else. Just let my restless mind carry me to that next destination. I had the fortunate to spare, and the time on my hand, why not gamble a little? After all, sometimes one must treat oneself to the finer things, even if the price is steep.

If only I realized how steep that price would be. If only I thought further past… The Aftermath.

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κα͵ Smile

It was another night like any other on the outside patio of the fusion, piano jazz washing over the balcony along the synthetic rain. A glance of the overseeing view of the east district, always in magnificent sight, along with a familiar face; one of the first in which I have seen since my return to Insilico. "Ms. Aichi? Quite a pleasant surprise seeing you make a way out of the office."

Jeanne was seated at a table near the railing, a glass of white wine in her hand, gazing out at the neon-edged night. Drawn from her reverie by my words, she blinked mildly, then turned to look over my way. "Ah, Elektra," she said, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faint smile. "So good to see you again." She glanced at the parasol still in my hand. "It's said that carrying an open umbrella indoors brings misfortune," she said conversationally. "Did you know? A peculiar superstition."

I chuckled and nodded to Jeanne while closing the umbrella before following into conversation with her, "I'd like to believe luck is somewhat on my side as of late, perhaps even quite a gain of good fortune as well running into you here. I should congratulate you on your business ventures into work with AEON Holdings…. I do hope you don't mind if I have this seat with you?"

"By all means," said Jeanne, gesturing me invitingly to the empty seat opposite her. "Thank you for your kind words." She inclined her head. "I'm pleased to hear things are going well for you."

I followed with a nod, slightly in appreciation and carried on to set myself down across from her. "Yes, it seems life as of late is going well. It took quite some time finding ease back to the setting here,” I said to her as I glanced around to the skyline, bits of chatter floating through the air, with the sound of a gentle soothing breeze. "It is nicer than of that I remember. It almost seems more peaceful, even."

Jeanne laughed softly. "Appearances can be deceiving," she said, gesturing at the skyline with her glass. "As we both know." She tipped her head slightly to the side, giving me a knowing smile. "As for the city, it's no secret that the recent construction has displaced the undesirables who called the Shades home. They came streaming into the other sectors like rats from a sinking ship. I anticipate problems."

My smile faded to a detached expression from Jeanne’s words. "It is a shame really," I responded, with a drop in my tone, "Many can attempt to wear a painted smile in this city, or even go as far as to trick their mind into believing there is only one side to the seemingly 'good.' But as you said before, 'Those who fail to cultivate a certain degree of awareness often learn firsthand just how close oblivious is to oblivion.' That is something I wish to those who are oblivious, would not have to face." My eyes trailed back up to her, awakening from a deeply meditated thought, while a waitress passed by close to our table. I gestured my hand up to order a drink to join with Jeanne as our passing discussion continued to progress.

"We can try to make people aware of the reality," Jeanne said as she turned her head to gaze out the window. "But some people would rather go to their graves clutching the tattered remains of their illusions than face the truth," she said quietly. "'There is none so blind as he who will not see', as the saying goes. It's unfortunate, but our responsibility only extends so far."

I tapped my fingernails rhythmically along the table top while awaiting my order of nigori… a cherished recommendation by a good acquaintance of mine. Listening quietly to Jeanne's response, I nodded along in agreement before receiving my glass to enjoy my first sip. I couldn’t help but reflect on the ideal of truth in the current days of our lives; and mine especially, with my recent gain to such wealth. "And yet, so many in these present days live in such blindness…In an age where anything synthetic seems to be a means of luxury, it is ironic how something so sought after for sport of rarity has seemingly become something we find ourselves surrounded in." I glanced over the balcony somewhere midway in my statement at the atmosphere around us, while taking another sip of my drink to break, "...even this rain... merely created to make us believe it is real, to give us some sort of comfort. It is interesting how luxury to me now is something that isn’t artificial."

Jeanne lifted her glass to her lips and sipped delicately, her cybernetic gaze came to rest on me. "What is real, in a world where we can manufacture virtually anything we desire? Our memories can be replaced, new ones fabricated. Even human beings can be created to order, for those who can afford the privilege." She gestures with her glass. "The real things in our world are also the most intangible," she says, answering her own question. "Love. Trust. Friendship."

Jeanne smiled thinly. "Luxuries, indeed. But sometimes one must treat oneself to the finer things, even if the price is steep. Otherwise, what is the point in living?"

I finished my nigori, setting it down to the table in-front of me with a slow shake of my head; an epiphany coming struck to my mind. "Perhaps, I should learn to greater appreciate the fortune money could bring. Use it to do such as you say… replace memories and even mental scares, as well as the physical." I felt my eyes begin to grow a bit cold with deep thoughts surfacing to my lips, coming close to escaping my breath, before blinking to catch myself. "However, for whatever reason, those memories I would not want to forget. It is the experiences I have grown from young, that makes me who I am today… what drives me for that reason to live. Through hardships, I’ve learned to become stronger, and smarter. That- That is the amazing thing of the human mind, with all of these things we have around us; we are able to create merely just from that. Though the ability to purchase extensions to ourselves to increase such abilities exist, the process of bringing that to incarnation, simply from what you can create from one's mind....is something to me, that is priceless as well.”

A thin smile graced along my lips in a moment to recollect my remaining thoughts, "Perhaps I sound archaic as I say that, maybe far too spiritual in this age to what most would want to believe. However, in all honesty," my mouth curled down a bit before finishing my words," I am not someone who was originally born with much fortunate. It is something I learned to live with, and though I have it now... I am not sure if it is something I understand, as most pursue after. I suppose that I... would be an example of someone who’s looks can be deceiving."

Jeanne inclined her head. "I certainly don't disagree with you, Elektra. Our memories and experiences - both good and ill - help shape us into who we are. We learn to overcome our limitations by being forced to confront them. Being able to look back at the past and think, "' survived that and I'm still standing' is a source of strength. I can understand why you would want to hold onto your memories at all costs, even the painful ones."

I gave a single nod to Jeanne. "I know,” with a simple reply before I glanced over to the sight of the changing colors in the sky. “I suppose I ought to be going soon, though. I too often lose track of time in these late outings" I set myself up from the seat, and reached into the inner pocket of my jacket to set down a generous amount of credits to cover for both of our drinks, as a token to good company.

Rain drops continued to fall down off of the outer rim of the patio’s awning as I looked over to Jeanne while opening up my umbrella before leaving. “Perhaps, a bit of misfortune couldn't hurt too much to bring balance in my life right now, I suppose," I said to her with a charm of words.

"Be careful what you wish for," Jeanne responded. "Life's surprises aren't always pleasant ones." She said with a lift of her glass to me. "Thank you for an interesting conversation. I'm sure we'll meet again in the days ahead." She smiled faintly. "Until then, take care."

"Kalini'hta, Jeanne. I wish the same to you," I concluded to her, with a painted smile… A smile I knew at this point, she would be able to see through.

[elkavla-blog]

κ͵ Phantázein

"Yeah, yeah. She’s playing hard to get" ….. tol….you….s…..w….ld…..be. "Heh, heh... Yeah, you weren’t kidding there. Little more time though, and she’ll warm up to me" …. Nic…..yo……   …da…….K….go…..but …  …….kes, …… she….plan.his. Don’t……… Looks …….. "Oh, that I can see. Those eyes, and that body on her. Looks that can kill" Keep……ing…ke…..hat…nd….th…….ill. Don’t………   …me.

"I’m onto it, OK? Hold on…  Yeah? What?…sure, whatever… more- coffee. This damn waitress, nosy, prosthetic clawed bitch. Anyways-" ….ve yo……..her….. yet? "Hey, I got the number. Gisele definitely isn’t it. She's keeps on trying to to avoid my calls. She’s a slick one, heh..."

…lgo…..this. ……….  ……..  …..ste … my ….ney.

"You’re worrying way too much. I got this snooty broad. She can act stuck up all she wants, but she wants it, I know it. It’s eating away at her." ……fun… …… t…. ….tting l…. .t th…. ..int.

"Hah! Yeah, this whole little richy-rich game she’s playing ain’t gonna last much longer. She’ll come crawling along for some action, then she’ll be good as mine."

Just do …. ….. her. …..tch her .very ..ve. …. . .ean, ….very .ne.

"Oh, don’t worry... I’m onto her every move."

[elkavla-blog]

η͵Yojimbo

A wandering flame would best describe the feeling of returning to Insillico. One would expect a place you once called home would bring rejoice and great nostalgia. That place, unfortunately no longer existed here. Expansion of the city for the ‘better’ took care of that. All that remained was the edge to a now lost region, shattered to dust that would form to the air around to be a reminder of what was lost forever. It is all for the better; it is all for perfecting. Flawlessness would always be the aim for an ideal society of humanity. Covering up the rough edges and imperfections would be thought to cure everything. Scars vanished, memories erased. A life of pure bliss and joy, because anything outside of that would be wrong. Anything outside of that, does not fit the mold.

My inner child cried for my return to true nature. Life of privilege ripped me away from that. It was a means for bringing clarity, hope and security. A way to mold me into a sight of elegance. A way to mold me into that ideal view of perfection. A way to cast me away from a past not fit by higher society’s standards. And so it was just that. I was sent away far from a place once called home, to another for ‘better opportunity.’ It almost seemed that it would be possible. The cure for the poison that I was forced to believe ran through me. If I could forget it…if I could be exorcised from it, it would mean the better good for my life ahead of me. Something altered that, however; a chemical reaction. A crack to the mold. The setting of Neo-Tokyo, the new home. It was the place to sooth my inner child. It was a place I only wish could have lasted forever. A playground and recess from influenced confinements and ideals. Praise for my natural talents. A scholar made from new teachings and skills. It all felt so real.

And yet, a synthetic raindrop hits my cheek. The sound of whirring gears and hissing hydraulics pumping an elevator shaft behind me awakens me from a coma of thoughts. Glancing back up to where it rises to the sky, lights fluttering from far above with the sound of trumpets in jazz music echoing in the air.

It was just another night out. A drink at the Fusion. Some chit chat and a bit of flirt with Mr. Sullivan over a glass of nigori. An honorable recommendation of sake by the knowledgeable tastes of Maz. The night was still young, it was sure to be a long one as per usual and the nigori was only a tease to what I really wanted. Another round of juyondai and ichigo daifuku could perhaps further more sooth that craving I still desired to fill, as well as a continued discussion of business with the ‘suffering dragon’ of the crowned pagoda.

[elkavla-blog]

ιε͵ Craving

The crowned pagoda. Glowing with an elusive aura casting into the sky like a lighthouse surrounded by an ocean of silhouettes. I stood a top the central city mall facing towards The 7 Seas, half past the 4th hour of a new day, still stirring from baklava and caffeine. Insomnia, my eternal daunting nemesis got the best of me yet again. Aimlessly night crawling, my mind was imprisoned in a stew of endless thoughts. There’s an old saying, that an idle mind is the devil’s workshop. Being trapped in a period of silence was driving me stir-crazy. I had a craving... and an invitation over an authentic bottle of Juyondai from the cyborg woman whose arms marked the kanjis of “pain” and “dragon,” could help towards satisfying it. By instinct, it would’ve best been wise to decline. However, I am a sucker for authenticity, something I lead her to learn of me. It was amateurish to show that weakness. One sip... The calm it would give... The nostalgia it would bring-- …

… --By proper etiquette... it would be rude to keep her waiting.