The Matrix: Forge (Formerly Preloaded)
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He pulled into traffic, mulling over everything that had just happened. An unreal quality had settled over his senses... the light, the traffic around him, a group of children playing jacks on the sidewalk. He looked at them, and they looked back -- but there was no sense of substance to them now.
He checked his watch -- it was 4:15. He wanted to get back to the office, report back to Anderson before quitting time. No loose ends. he thought. Just wash my hands of the whole thing, forget all about it, go home to the wife, dinner, a little television -- no, radio, I think The Saint is on tonight...
A small boy looked up at him from his game of dice, and smiled. It was the most blissful smile Smith had ever seen... and it was bliss born of ignorance. Smith stared back, and by the time he heard the horns and turned his attention back to the road in time to see the back of the delivery van racing toward him, it was too late.
* * *
"Where is he?" the words were muffled.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but he can't have visitors right now."
There was a pause.
"What do you mean he can't have visitors?! Of course he can have visitors, what kind of -- "
Another voice, lower. It was a tone probably meant to soothe, but the attempt to assuage failed miserably.
"I... don't... care!" the click-click-click of angry, high-heeled footsteps approached through the fog, the low, ultraprofessional voice following.
"He's my husband, and not you or God Almighty is going to stand in my way!"
He opened his eyes just as Annabelle Lee flung the sheet seperating his hospital bed from the rest of the room, elliciting an angry skittering from the curtain's hangers.
The light stabbed into his eyes; he clenched them shut, and tried to raise a hand to shade them, only to discover that his arms were snugged to the bed by leather restraints. He tried his legs, found that they were similarly secured. "What's going on?" he mumbled. "Annie? What are you doing here? Where am I?"
"Why is he strapped to the table like that?" Annabelle Lee turned on the doctor, who had tried to block her view of Smith. Furious, she leaned toward the much taller man, who involuntarily shrunk away from the inferno. "What the hell is going on here!" The nurse gasped at the enraged wife's coarse language. Annabelle leaned down briefly to caress Smith's cheek, whispering, "It's all right, darling, everything is going to be all right. I promise I'll have you at home in your own bed in no time. Everything will be all right..."
"It's for his own protection, Mrs. Smith." the doctor replied in bland monotone. "He's been raving about machines, and vampires. Your husband isn't well, Mrs. Smith, and we feel -- "
"I don't give a damn how you feel!" Annabelle Lee spat, and the nurse fainted dead away. Annabelle Lee stepped toward the doctor, a dangerous look in her eye. "You have one chance to let him out of those straps before I..."
"Before you what, Mrs. Smith?" the doctor asked coldly. "It seems to me that you are nearly as psychotic as your husband. I am sorely tempted to recommend that you be ordered for evaluation and treatment as well."
Annabelle's cheeks drained of color, her eyes widened as she got her first really good look into the doctor's eyes... they were empty, as cold and soulless as those of an insect.
She tugged at the hem of her skirt in frustration, stalked past the doctor toward the door. Once safely past him, she looked back over her shoulder at her husband; noted the crimson-tinged bandage dried to his forehead, the drowsing facial expression... and the thick leather restraints. She cast one last venomous look at Doctor... Doctor... she couldn't make out the name on his name tag. "You'll be hearing from our attorney." she said at last, and clicked primly out of the room and down the corridor.
He checked his watch -- it was 4:15. He wanted to get back to the office, report back to Anderson before quitting time. No loose ends. he thought. Just wash my hands of the whole thing, forget all about it, go home to the wife, dinner, a little television -- no, radio, I think The Saint is on tonight...
A small boy looked up at him from his game of dice, and smiled. It was the most blissful smile Smith had ever seen... and it was bliss born of ignorance. Smith stared back, and by the time he heard the horns and turned his attention back to the road in time to see the back of the delivery van racing toward him, it was too late.
* * *
"Where is he?" the words were muffled.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but he can't have visitors right now."
There was a pause.
"What do you mean he can't have visitors?! Of course he can have visitors, what kind of -- "
Another voice, lower. It was a tone probably meant to soothe, but the attempt to assuage failed miserably.
"I... don't... care!" the click-click-click of angry, high-heeled footsteps approached through the fog, the low, ultraprofessional voice following.
"He's my husband, and not you or God Almighty is going to stand in my way!"
He opened his eyes just as Annabelle Lee flung the sheet seperating his hospital bed from the rest of the room, elliciting an angry skittering from the curtain's hangers.
The light stabbed into his eyes; he clenched them shut, and tried to raise a hand to shade them, only to discover that his arms were snugged to the bed by leather restraints. He tried his legs, found that they were similarly secured. "What's going on?" he mumbled. "Annie? What are you doing here? Where am I?"
"Why is he strapped to the table like that?" Annabelle Lee turned on the doctor, who had tried to block her view of Smith. Furious, she leaned toward the much taller man, who involuntarily shrunk away from the inferno. "What the hell is going on here!" The nurse gasped at the enraged wife's coarse language. Annabelle leaned down briefly to caress Smith's cheek, whispering, "It's all right, darling, everything is going to be all right. I promise I'll have you at home in your own bed in no time. Everything will be all right..."
"It's for his own protection, Mrs. Smith." the doctor replied in bland monotone. "He's been raving about machines, and vampires. Your husband isn't well, Mrs. Smith, and we feel -- "
"I don't give a damn how you feel!" Annabelle Lee spat, and the nurse fainted dead away. Annabelle Lee stepped toward the doctor, a dangerous look in her eye. "You have one chance to let him out of those straps before I..."
"Before you what, Mrs. Smith?" the doctor asked coldly. "It seems to me that you are nearly as psychotic as your husband. I am sorely tempted to recommend that you be ordered for evaluation and treatment as well."
Annabelle's cheeks drained of color, her eyes widened as she got her first really good look into the doctor's eyes... they were empty, as cold and soulless as those of an insect.
She tugged at the hem of her skirt in frustration, stalked past the doctor toward the door. Once safely past him, she looked back over her shoulder at her husband; noted the crimson-tinged bandage dried to his forehead, the drowsing facial expression... and the thick leather restraints. She cast one last venomous look at Doctor... Doctor... she couldn't make out the name on his name tag. "You'll be hearing from our attorney." she said at last, and clicked primly out of the room and down the corridor.
Last edited by Raoul Duke, Jr. on 2003-11-30 02:25pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Shroom Man 777
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Well, that depends on Stravo, really. Let's not rush the man. Anyway, i've been trying to find Steel Reaper in the old Fanfic threads, and it doesn't seem to be there, which means we may have to do a clean start on it.Shroom Man 777 wrote:Oh! That's good! Hmmm..... when will Stravo finish with Cain and Abel and you continue with your Steel Reaper?
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It seems OK so far, but I can't comment that much since the plot hasn't progressed that much. Then again, it's not a bad thing necessarily - some good novels are good because they have such a steady pace.
"Hi there, would you like to have a cookie?"
"No, actually I would HATE to have a cookie, you vapid waste of inedible flesh!"
"No, actually I would HATE to have a cookie, you vapid waste of inedible flesh!"
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I'm sorry to announce that, due to technical difficulties (some jackass at this cybercafe deleted several critical files from the computer I've been using and I have to try to recover XP) The Matrix: Forge will experience a slight delay.
Forge WILL see a new entry soon; just not as soon as I thought.
In the meantime, for the two of you who have not yet seen it, I recommend Stravo's Animatrix: Cain & Abel.
Thanks for your understanding, sorry for the inconvenience, and Forge will be back soon.
Forge WILL see a new entry soon; just not as soon as I thought.
In the meantime, for the two of you who have not yet seen it, I recommend Stravo's Animatrix: Cain & Abel.
Thanks for your understanding, sorry for the inconvenience, and Forge will be back soon.
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Raoul Duke, Jr. wrote:Well, that depends on Stravo, really. Let's not rush the man. Anyway, i've been trying to find Steel Reaper in the old Fanfic threads, and it doesn't seem to be there, which means we may have to do a clean start on it.Shroom Man 777 wrote:Oh! That's good! Hmmm..... when will Stravo finish with Cain and Abel and you continue with your Steel Reaper?
What? its on page three of this forum!1
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Just a quickie for now, but don't skip it...
"The anaesthetic has taken hold." The Nurse announced quietly.
"It would be advisable to wait until the gallery has been cleared." The Doctor replied without engaging his lips, smiling instead at the window through which Mrs. Smith stood, visibly uncomfortable. She glared at his smile, her arms folded above the protruding evidence that she herself would be under his ministrations soon enough.
"She refuses to leave without him." The Nurse looked down at Smith's docile but still brutish primate face, troubled by the idea. "The Director will arrive shortly. Perhaps he can persuade her."
"We have no time for such trivialities." The Doctor declared. "The sedative may be subject to unknown factors in his case. We must proceed now."
* * *
"What are they talking about in there?" Annabelle Lee demanded of the tall, distinguished man as he closed the door behind him with a soft click. "Are you the Director of this hospital? What's going on?"
"I will endeavour to answer all of your questions, Mrs. Smith." his voice was deep and rich, yet somehow off, as if he were reading what he said from a book. "I am, as you have correctly surmised, the Director. My purpose here is to allay your trepidation through the dispellation of uncertainty by the dispensation of fact. Abraham Smith, your husband, is currently suffering from certain abnormalities which we hope to identify and remedy."
"What?"
"My apologies if my meaning is unclear. To restate in the simplest human terms, your husband is suffering from a condition which we have never seen before, ergo the purpose of this procedure is to first identify the error so that it can be corrected. There is only a seven percent probability that the procedure will result in permanent damage to your husband."
"Oh, well that explains it." Annabelle Lee rolled her eyes. "Listen, I didn't go to one of your fancy Ivy-League schools, so you want to try that again in plain-old Milwaukee English?"
"As I said, Mrs. Smith, your husband -- "
"Is some kind of freak according to you, yeah, you got that part across nice and clear. And if I wasn't a lady, I'd belt you good!"
"The anomaly is propagating." The Director sighed. "This is unfortuna -- " he finished the word -- "te?" -- sitting on the floor. His Rolex flared under the lights as his hand rose to his chin.
"Well, forget what I said about being a lady." Annabelle Lee stared daggers at him. "I don't know what you meant by that, Mister, but I know it wasn't anything nice. You keep talking like that, and you'll get more of the same!"
"You struck me." For the first time since he'd entered the room, the man rising slowly from the floor displayed a real emotion -- shock.
"Oh, you noticed that?" Annabelle Lee retorted, hands on her hips... then started to back away slowly as The Director approached, his eyes fixed in a cold stare.
"Remain still." he said, and the blood drained from her face.
"What are you going to do?"
"Remain still." he repeated, scanning her, slowly, from head to toe. "You are not the source of the anomaly, merely a reactant. You may be recovered."
Two men entered the room behind the Director, dressed in black -- black business suits, black fedoras, black aviator's sunglasses, black shoes. They didn't appear to be armed, but something in their body language reached out and set the young woman's flesh crawling, filled her veins with ice.
Something in the operating theater screamed, and Annabelle Lee turned in time to see The Doctor lowering a small electric saw toward the top of Abraham Smith's scalp.
"The anaesthetic has taken hold." The Nurse announced quietly.
"It would be advisable to wait until the gallery has been cleared." The Doctor replied without engaging his lips, smiling instead at the window through which Mrs. Smith stood, visibly uncomfortable. She glared at his smile, her arms folded above the protruding evidence that she herself would be under his ministrations soon enough.
"She refuses to leave without him." The Nurse looked down at Smith's docile but still brutish primate face, troubled by the idea. "The Director will arrive shortly. Perhaps he can persuade her."
"We have no time for such trivialities." The Doctor declared. "The sedative may be subject to unknown factors in his case. We must proceed now."
* * *
"What are they talking about in there?" Annabelle Lee demanded of the tall, distinguished man as he closed the door behind him with a soft click. "Are you the Director of this hospital? What's going on?"
"I will endeavour to answer all of your questions, Mrs. Smith." his voice was deep and rich, yet somehow off, as if he were reading what he said from a book. "I am, as you have correctly surmised, the Director. My purpose here is to allay your trepidation through the dispellation of uncertainty by the dispensation of fact. Abraham Smith, your husband, is currently suffering from certain abnormalities which we hope to identify and remedy."
"What?"
"My apologies if my meaning is unclear. To restate in the simplest human terms, your husband is suffering from a condition which we have never seen before, ergo the purpose of this procedure is to first identify the error so that it can be corrected. There is only a seven percent probability that the procedure will result in permanent damage to your husband."
"Oh, well that explains it." Annabelle Lee rolled her eyes. "Listen, I didn't go to one of your fancy Ivy-League schools, so you want to try that again in plain-old Milwaukee English?"
"As I said, Mrs. Smith, your husband -- "
"Is some kind of freak according to you, yeah, you got that part across nice and clear. And if I wasn't a lady, I'd belt you good!"
"The anomaly is propagating." The Director sighed. "This is unfortuna -- " he finished the word -- "te?" -- sitting on the floor. His Rolex flared under the lights as his hand rose to his chin.
"Well, forget what I said about being a lady." Annabelle Lee stared daggers at him. "I don't know what you meant by that, Mister, but I know it wasn't anything nice. You keep talking like that, and you'll get more of the same!"
"You struck me." For the first time since he'd entered the room, the man rising slowly from the floor displayed a real emotion -- shock.
"Oh, you noticed that?" Annabelle Lee retorted, hands on her hips... then started to back away slowly as The Director approached, his eyes fixed in a cold stare.
"Remain still." he said, and the blood drained from her face.
"What are you going to do?"
"Remain still." he repeated, scanning her, slowly, from head to toe. "You are not the source of the anomaly, merely a reactant. You may be recovered."
Two men entered the room behind the Director, dressed in black -- black business suits, black fedoras, black aviator's sunglasses, black shoes. They didn't appear to be armed, but something in their body language reached out and set the young woman's flesh crawling, filled her veins with ice.
Something in the operating theater screamed, and Annabelle Lee turned in time to see The Doctor lowering a small electric saw toward the top of Abraham Smith's scalp.
Last edited by Raoul Duke, Jr. on 2003-12-04 05:26pm, edited 1 time in total.
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This is getting quite good....Raoul Duke, Jr. wrote:Just a quickie for now, but don't skip it...
"snip.
Via money Europe could become political in five years" "... the current communities should be completed by a Finance Common Market which would lead us to European economic unity. Only then would ... the mutual commitments make it fairly easy to produce the political union which is the goal"
Jean Omer Marie Gabriel Monnet
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Jean Omer Marie Gabriel Monnet
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You can actually get fanfic put into cannon!
That would so rock!
That would so rock!
Ph34r teh eyebrow!!11!Writers Guild Sluggite Pawn of Chaos WYGIWYGAINGW so now i have to put ACPATHNTDWATGODW in my sig EBC-Honorary Geordie
Hammerman! Hammer!
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- Shroom Man 777
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Well i'd have to see the finished product, but so far it's looking good.
Ph34r teh eyebrow!!11!Writers Guild Sluggite Pawn of Chaos WYGIWYGAINGW so now i have to put ACPATHNTDWATGODW in my sig EBC-Honorary Geordie
Hammerman! Hammer!
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Well, they're not exactly what we know as Agents yet. Remember, the "era" of this version of the Matrix is sometime in the late 1940s. Now what famous group of ominous individuals was most heavily bopping around back in the 40s and 50s, especially with regards to "unusual and unexplained phenomena"? Heh, heh heh.Simon H.Johansen wrote:The agents show up!! Very, very fine.
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The Goombay Dance Band! My God...Raoul Duke, Jr. wrote:Well, they're not exactly what we know as Agents yet. Remember, the "era" of this version of the Matrix is sometime in the late 1940s. Now what famous group of ominous individuals was most heavily bopping around back in the 40s and 50s, especially with regards to "unusual and unexplained phenomena"? Heh, heh heh.Simon H.Johansen wrote:The agents show up!! Very, very fine.
"...a fountain of mirth, issuing forth from the penis of a cupid..." ~ Dalton / Winner of the 'Frank Hipper Most Horrific Drag EVAR' award - 2004 / The artist formerly known as The_Lumberjack.
Evil Brit Conspiracy: Token Moose Obsessed Kebab Munching Semi Geordie
Evil Brit Conspiracy: Token Moose Obsessed Kebab Munching Semi Geordie
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Ehm... no. Think Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones and you're closer.The_Lumberjack wrote:The Goombay Dance Band! My God...Raoul Duke, Jr. wrote:Well, they're not exactly what we know as Agents yet. Remember, the "era" of this version of the Matrix is sometime in the late 1940s. Now what famous group of ominous individuals was most heavily bopping around back in the 40s and 50s, especially with regards to "unusual and unexplained phenomena"? Heh, heh heh.Simon H.Johansen wrote:The agents show up!! Very, very fine.
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I know, dammit... Probably a British specific joke however, whilst the gist would be recognisable to all.
"...a fountain of mirth, issuing forth from the penis of a cupid..." ~ Dalton / Winner of the 'Frank Hipper Most Horrific Drag EVAR' award - 2004 / The artist formerly known as The_Lumberjack.
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Miiister Anderson, we've had our eye on you for quite some T-ime now, and we can tell by the way you use your walk, Mister Anderson, that you're a womans man, with no time to talk.
In one life, you like your music loud and your women warm, and the other, you've been kicked around since you were small.
One of these lives has a future, the other does not.
****
You hear that, Mister Anderson? That is the sound of the city breaking and everybody shaking, of them staying alive, Mister Anderson...
In one life, you like your music loud and your women warm, and the other, you've been kicked around since you were small.
One of these lives has a future, the other does not.
****
You hear that, Mister Anderson? That is the sound of the city breaking and everybody shaking, of them staying alive, Mister Anderson...
"...a fountain of mirth, issuing forth from the penis of a cupid..." ~ Dalton / Winner of the 'Frank Hipper Most Horrific Drag EVAR' award - 2004 / The artist formerly known as The_Lumberjack.
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Have you ever just stared at it, mmmarvelled at its' bbbeauty, it'sss gggenius? It's fun to stay at the Y.M.C.A...The_Lumberjack wrote:Miiister Anderson, we've had our eye on you for quite some T-ime now, and we can tell by the way you use your walk, Mister Anderson, that you're a womans man, with no time to talk.
In one life, you like your music loud and your women warm, and the other, you've been kicked around since you were small.
One of these lives has a future, the other does not.
****
You hear that, Mister Anderson? That is the sound of the city breaking and everybody shaking, of them staying alive, Mister Anderson...