Powerless. Exasperated. Tired of being a prisoner in her own mind. She knew this dream; she knew the faces of the surreal men and women that shouted her name with echoes in their voices and professional fear in their eyes. She knew the stinging brightness of the surgical lights that disturbed her sight. She knew the numb coldness that enveloped her being and the aching of her stiff bones. She remembered the small scratch above the glowing lintel. The irritating feeling of water in her nostrils and ears; the smooth, bland and cold feel of the white plastic sheet beneath her; the cold, glossy metal rails on either side; the sharp smell of iodine and the bitter smell of the room; the white marble floors; and the grey ceiling above her…She knew them.
Continue reading “Frozen in time, Prologue.”
As it turns out, the Terminators sniffing out your blood are four plastic models sculptured to perfection. Perfect faces, perfect gaits, perfect lithe or muscular bodies – they seem to have come from a bubble box labelled “Extremely Fragile, Pointlessly Beautiful”. No human being is born this way, unless the evil Siri had a thing for vain beauty (which you know…all evil queens have). All four of them stare at you like lazy goats: unimpressed.
Join me on an interesting train of thought for a while, will you? What would it be like if our modern, typical player was to partake in the wave of people to leave the Arkship? Now, close your eyes and breathe in deeply – no, this is not some yoga therapeutic class where I sit cross legged and wave eight arms around like an octopus, demanding you format your brain. This is a short trip you may think you know, but, I will let you know: a 21st century man, will definitely not find the Arkship experience funny.
Let us delve right in, shall we?