A Bureaucracy of One

Grounded

(listen to this while reading)

While Jesselin rooted around for the tools she needed, Kembra did a slow turn around the needle-nosed interceptor that sat on blocks on the shop floor. Kembra brushed her fingers along the nose, past the cockpit, and could feel the singular purpose of the craft that writ into the sharp lines of fuselage. The underslung railgun pods had long been removed, their mounts now cut down and patched over. Where once there had been connection points for a warp pod, only exposed wires and scorch marks remained - grim scars of the once proud ship's final battle, or a poorly-wielded cutting torch. Past those were the massive thrusters, and Kembra paused there in her gyre, her eyes losing focus as she remembered the crashing hum of engines at full power; the punishing forces of high-g turns; and the silent coruscating of a dead ship as she boosted away, back to her carrier. 

A sound brought Kembra back to the present, and she looked around to see Jesselin scowling at a large section of plating that had almost fallen on her foot. Moving on to where various pieces of equipment sat scattered next to the ship, she sat down on step ladder to gaze at the vessel. Despite the shape, the interceptors had never been meant to enter a planet's atmosphere, and seeing this one here, ignominiously propped up on blocks in scrap yard's bay and forever kept from the infinite sky, engendered in Kembra a feeling of melancholy. Instinctively, she reached out with her implant to the shipboard systems, only to meet a blank wall. No murmur of hello from the rudimentary A.I.; no acknowledgements from automated systems; nothing. The ship was well and truly dead.

A soft curse drew her attention to the space under the ship, and for the first time she noticed a man laying on his back on a mechanics creeper. He was holding a tablet in his hands and muttering to himself.
    "Dammit, now what? I know I fully disconnected everything, so why it trying to..." The man's voice trailed off as he pushied himself out from under the ship. Sitting up, he spied Kembra still perched on the step-ladder.
    "Oh." he said. "It was you."
Kembra nodded as the man set aside his tablet and stood up.
    "A micro-nuke went off meters from her port rack," he waved in the direction of the sheared off stubs of the interceptor's leftside shield antennas, "And the EMP fried the A.I. and bolloxed every other system."    
    The mechanic pointed to a rag sitting underneath Kembra's seat. Tossing it to him, she spoke.
    "You know it will never fly again."     
The man nodded.
    "I know." He replied as he wiped his hands.
    "And yet you attempt repairs, anyway." Kembra's tone was curious.
A sad smiled came to the man as he sat back down on the creeper.
    "It gives me something to do." he said as he pushed himself back under the fuselage. 

 

 

picture by Levente Peterffy via Concept Ships

background music: The Nest That Sailed the Sky by Peter Gabriel.

Flying As I Fall

Flying As I Fall

There’ll be no statue of me
In the town square
No portraits in a hall shall you find
An eternal flame will not be lit
On a monument to me that is not there

I walked through this life
And left nary a trace
My Impact was small
In such a large space

So from the highest building
I will leap
Heeding a silent call
But shed not a tear for me
As I’ll finally be flying
As I fall 

 

The Dark Space Between

I have a dark place that I try to hide. 
We all do.
Some face we don't want to show to the world.
Some fear how the world will judge them.

I fear the harm I would do.

I wonder if the hurt I experienced as a child;
If the sense of helplessness that dogged my youth;
Is what sets upon me
Curls my lips
Narrows my eyes
And takes such pleasure in the pain of others
And of knowing that it was I that brought ruin to their world.

 

Lucid Dreaming and the Whoans

I have lucid dreams. Not all the time, and some I remember with more clarity than others, but nary a month goes by that I don't have at least one.

Most of the time I enjoy them, but sometimes I find myself frustrated by them.

This frustration stems from my inability while awake to capture the complexity and majesty of some of these dreams. In the space of a 40 minute r.e.m. cycle I can experience a fully realized alternate world; one with its own unique history, and following its own coherent physical laws. But no matter how many times I tell myself in my dreams that I will retain full memory of these fantastic landscapes, the details of the dreams quickly fade as soon as I open my eyes.

Still, sometimes I manage to bring a little bit back with me, such as the n-dimensional beings from last night's trip.

These n-dimensional aliens, called Whoans, manifest themselves in our universe as single points, but gain dimensionality with each of their kind that are in close proximity. So a single Whoan is 1 dimensional; two of them appear as flat images; and three become fully 3 dimensional brings. However, Whoans get their name from the fact that they never travel in our universe in groups fewer than four, and thus being 4 dimensional beings (appearing as pulsing tesseracts), can travel through time. Like their namesake, Dr. Who.

Firth and the Fairy Circle

The adventurers shifted uneasily, weighing the Fairy Maiden's words, as she simply beamed in impish beauty, afloat in her circle. Not one wanted to look at another as Fear, Pride, and Duty went to war in their heads, and chased each other across their features. Well, all but one, that is.

Firth the Mirth scratched at his beard, and then shifted from one foot to the other as he waited for the others to say something. Finally, he could wait no more.

"Ah, to the Hells with it - I'll go with you, lassie!" he said as he stepped forward, only to be brought up short by a gloved hand on his arm. 

"Are you completely insane, Firth?" asked the gloved hand's owner, her voice rising with each word. Still facing towards the Fairy Circle, Firth twisted his lips into his trademark smile. "Not at all!" he quipped and tried to take another step forward, just before getting slapped in the face by the gloved hand's partner.

"Bloody Hells, woman! What'd ye do that for!" he yelped, glaring down at his attacker, who glared right back.

"What? Really?! You just about hie off into a Fairy's Circle, Luck Be Damned, and wonder at why I tried to slap some damned sense into you?" The woman shot back. "You know what'll happen if you take even a single step into that Circle!"

Firth rubbed his jaw. "Aye, Han, I do know! Drinking and Dancing and a wee bit of Debauchery!" He said as he leered at the floating Fairy Maiden, who winked back.

Han looked at him aghast, and then quickly looked at the rest of their companions, all of whom studiously ignored her gaze. Firth saw the hurt look that crossed her features, and his expression softened a little. Gentlely he pried he fingers from where they still gripped his bicep, and held her hand in his two.

"Look, Hanners," he said softly when she looked up him. "One of us must enter that Circle so that the others may receive Raang's Torc. Now, I'm a lousy bloody thief and an even worse bard-". A round of coughs and snorts from his circled companions interrupted him, but he only raised an eyebrow before continuing. "-meaning I am the most expendable one here. And let's face it, the last time I got laid was eight years ago on my 30th birthday!"

Han facepalmed with her free hand. "Seriously? You're doing this just to get laid?" She asked, looking from Firth to the Fairy. Firth paused for a long moment looking at the Maiden, who smiled and coquettishly and blew a kiss, before replying.

"You're damned right I am." Looking back at Han, he continued. "And it's not just getting laid! It's practically every man's - and that of about one-in-ten women - fantasy to have sex with a Fairy Maiden! I mean, look at her!" he said pointing to the Maiden, who stretched languidly to show off her form.

There was a visible shifting among the other adventurers at this display, and Han rolled her eyes. "Oh, whatever!" She crossed her arms. "But cross that circle, and you'll be gone from the Human Lands for years, decades even!" 

Firth ran his fingers through his thinning hair. "Yeah, I know. And so what? I have no family, and no friends worth mentioning. The only reason I'm here at all is because the pay's better than busking all month down on Beggar's Notch." He shrugged a final time. "Look, I'm going!" He said and stepped into the circle.

The moment his foot touched the other side the Fairy Maiden grabbed his hand and started dancing him around the Circle. Faster and faster they went until the two figures were just a blur, and a whirlwind howled silently in the Circle. Then there was a blinding flash, and Firth, the Maiden, and the Circle were gone, and Raang's Torc was sitting on the forest floor.

Ten Minute Poetry Corner - Mother Nature Held a Party

Mother Nature held a party

To mark the passing of the torch
Of Summer's End to Fall's Begin
With Winter at the door

The clouds they gatheres from far to near
The celebration for to see
And the trees they swayed and danced
To Lightning's jig as Thunder's boots
Crashed the tempo on the floor

At length the party-goers left
Other venues for to seek
And the Moon's half-mast did gently glow
As the Sky she fell asleep 

Deus Ex: Nitpicks of the Machine

Whoo boy, that was fun! I was all like stealthy and then snuck up on people and was like, "Choke Hold, motherfucker!", and they were all like "Aaaargh, Can't...Breathe....!", and then I got this massive gun that shoot sooooo many bullets that I was able to take a boss down in like 5 five seconds!  And then - and then...

And then I beat the game, and realized that it had some pretty deep flaws that will probably keep me from replaying it the same way as I did the original Deus Ex. Here, let me tell you about them in a rambling and barely-coherent fashion.

Actually, calling these things deep flaws is being disingenous and mean-spirited. If the problems were that deep, and the game was that flawed, I would not enthusiastically recommend this game to everyone (which I do). Rather, they are nitpicks. Horrible, tiny little nits that irritate and confound me the more I ponder them. 

Nit #1: The Inventory System

Specifically, it is one aspect of the otherwise excellent inventory system, and that is the arbitrary stacking of items. Certain items in the game will stack with each other - mines, food, and the virus programs. Others, grenades and mine templates, do not. Combine a frag grenade with a template to make a frag mine? That will stack with other frag mines, but the three frag grenades left take up an inventory slot each. This gets really damned irritating when you are carrying 3-4 of each kind of grenade, and you can't pick up a candy bar because you have no room left.

 

Nit #2: Praxis Kits

Really, this nit is about the leveling system in its entirety, but the Praxis Kits are an easy entry to it. In the first game (I pretend the second game never actually happened) you not only had different augmentations to choose from via nano-aug canisters, but Skill Points could be earned on level-up and distributed among skills of many different flavors. Want to be an Olympic Sprinter/Swimmer with a focus on Rocket Launchers and Lock-picking? Knock yourself out!

Sadly, Human Revolution's upgrade system is somewhat more...austere. In Human Revolution you can only gain new abilities by activating your cybernetic implants via Praxis Kits. This wouldn't be an issue at all except for one tiny, little design choice that turns it into a Nit to be picked at. See, right there at the top of your Inventory screen it tells you how much XP you've earned; how much XP you need until the next level; and how many Praxis Kits you have available. When I first started the game I saw that and thought "Sweet! I'm going to dump my points into Lock-pick and Hacking, and my augs will focus on stealth!". But no, instead, every time you level up, you get a Praxis Kit. It just seems to me if there aren't going to be Skills, then level-ups are meaningless and should've been eliminated.

 

Nit #3: The Illusion of Choice

Deus Ex: Human Revolution is a masterful implementation of smoke and mirrors. When compared to its contemporaries, it shows off a remarkable depth and intricacy that astounds and amazes. Want info from a police station? Be a smooth-talker and get the guy at the front door to let you in! Or, hack the backdoor and do a little B&E! Of course, you could always sneak in through the roof and stick to the venitlation system to avoid detection!

But... You. Can't. Pick. Locks. Didn't dump Praxis Kits into your Hacking Implant and can't get through that Level 3 electronic lock? Too bad! Focused on activating your combat implants at the cost of being able to jump higher or carry more and therefore can't reach the air vent? So sad! Better turn over every rock and garbage can until you find the pass code!

Really, for all that you have multiple routes to take through a level, they are severely curtailed by how you modify your character. 

 

Nit #4: Nicolette DuClare

How the hell can Nicolette DuClare be working for Picus in 2027, and yet still only be a woman in mid-to-late 20's in 2052? Let's have a little internal consistency, shall we?

 

Nit #5: The Ending(s)

Because I don't want to spoil the game for any who might play it (and really, all of you should), I won't go into any specifics, but the original Deus Ex had different endings that showed little cinematics of what happens to the world based on what your final decision was in the game. Human Revolution ... doesn't.

SPOILERS BELOW (highlight to view):

No matter what ending option you chose, Adam Jensen monologues over various clips of things happening that are completely unrelated to events that occured in the game. The monologue and the clips differ from ending to ending, but in none of them do we get to see what happens to the world based on his decision. Nor do we get any sort of closure on any of the other characters in the game. What happens to Sarif Industries? What happens to Picus? Did Adam ever reconcile with Megan Reed, or did he decide that Faridah Malik was more important to him?

Also, the coda after the credits makes no damned sense given events in the game. Dr. Reed makes it sound like she has been bereft of all friends and contacts and is forced to go to work for the Illuminati, when it is very apparent that both Adam Jensen and David Sarif want and need her to stay around. Hell, the game makes a point of having her tell Jensen that it isn't over between the two of them, and that she wants to make it right!

It doesn't even make sense given two of the four possible endings. In two of them, human augmentation is allowed to continue; in one, with stricter regulation; and in another, completely unfettered. In either of these situations, Sarif Industries would still have been going strong, and would have welcomed her back with open arms.

 

30 and Done; Half-assing to the end

Yeah, this 30 Day Challenge has sucked in a bad way. When I did my skiing 30 Day Challenge, I was at least having fun while I was improving my skiing. This challenge was more like a job, and I already have one of those. As such, I am not going to start my 30 Day Fiction Challenge right off; instead I will give myself two weeks to not try and post something every day, and start the Fiction Challenge on July 15th.

Until then (or until I randomly post something else), enjoy this:  

YiEMB - Mockingbird Girl

She'll kill you once, you won't mind - you'll ask for twice.

 

The Magnificent Bastards, led by STP's Scott Weiland, leads us off with the incomprehensible video for  Mockingbird Girl - the inspiration for tonight's YiEMB, followed by Joydrop's Sometimes Wanna Die. Shirely Manson and Garbage pick up the pace with Push It, and Bif Naked rams the point home with a tank in Tango Shoes, and Heather Nova finishes us off with Sugar. I had to end it with that song, because that guitar at the end is the perfect cap to any set.

 

Lessons Learned, And Promptly Forgotten

Three days. Just three more days, and then...then I can rest. Forever...

Hyperbole aside, this particular 30 Day Challenge has shown me that trying to sit down and post something interesting or worthwhile every day requires more effort than I can really justify expending. Or it might be that I stress too much about getting something posted (the spectre of 2 Girls 1 Cup looms ever large in the back of my mind), that I ignore potential topics as being too labor-intensive, or requiring creativity that is being direct elsewhere.

In practical terms, if I want to keep this blog going I should be posting once every other day, with the off day being used to write and queue multiple posts.

Unless...next month I could do a 30 Day Fiction Challenge wherein I have to write and post fiction every day. Oh hell. I am going to end up doing that, aren't I?

Yes, yes I am.

Well, enjoy this video of Hitomi Yaida's Over The Distance while I contemplate why I might hate myself.