Sunday, January 03, 2010

Happy New Year

Phew - my vacation is over and had a bit of stuff that got done and a lot that didn't. Been sick the last few days and still trying to shake this cold or whatever, hence my lack of posting and such. I should be getting back to my routines and once I get settled back and caught up at work I'll be back to my rambles about transmedia, web series, odd things I notice and whatever

I have a few things I need to work through and get out... plus wanna get back to updating my web series...

Did see some good shows and movies over my vacation and picked up some weird music - :P

PLus exploring how to make Google Maps do magic for me

And wishing really bad I was taking a trip for my birthday - I wanna see my sisters and I wanna go back to New Orleans and.... phew

I gotta do a road trip, even if just over night

Oh did I mention researching ShadowRun for a new story series - here is a preview - what do you think???

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She was pacing in front of a digital display that stood about a story high. She preferred this view when guiding a Run. The display was primarily a schematic of the city, one corner counting down a download list, another small window feeding constant stats, a few other windows containing chats she was participating in. She pulled at her ponytail, the habit one she did often in the physical world.

"Bollocks," the exclamation echoed through the area, muted as the program did not always return the best acoustics, the power grid she was tapped into not providing as much energy as she'd like. The exclamation had come as two green dots disappeared from the grid display leaving four green dots and a multitude of other colored dots. She hung her head, pushing a finger under her spectacles to rub the small tear from her eye. "I should have known." She really should have known. Pedro had hesitated, twice. But then there had been a couple of viruses running through the city. And whenever a physical or digital virus ran through the city or system, one could always expect small glitches; she'd chalked it up to that.

But no, the hesitation must have been borne from the fact that they had been set up. This assignment had turned into a trap. And now, with the loss of two of her Runners, what had been a cakewalk had become a deathtrap. They had been successful. The data, the artifacts and the assassinations. All had been acquired. But now, now her six, no four, Runners were fleeing through New Seattle, being chased.

"Pedro, I'm sorry." She sighed even as she waved a hand to bring up a black window. She sent the code to put into motion a killer ICE program; she had connections in high places and was one of the few who had access to these quasi-legal programs. Of course she'd tweaked it and her version was much nastier. Something deep had told her to set the program and get it ready, maybe she had thought more of his hesitation. Sometimes her jacked up brain multitasked and almost operated on its own. Something she actually did not mind or worry about. She'd seen so much over the last 300 years... Being virtually indestructible gave one a different sense of self.

"Peggers and Notry drew the Ace of Spades, didn't they?"

The voice broke her wandering thoughts, she nodded. Her heuristic program translated that and sent a "Yes," reply back to the others. She found she spoke as much with her body as with words and had a program developed to interpret her movements and body language so her Runners would always have the benefit, or curse, of complete communication with her. It was one of the many things she did differently than others; why her organization was seen as odd and misfit. She believed in open communication and always maintained an open channel with her Runners.

She watched her Pendragon Kill program speed off, easily demolishing the barriers Pedro had erected. It would take a lot of her energy and resources and set her back, the Pendragon Kill program was not one she used casually. BUt, it was powerful, thorough and would eat and beat through anything to get to its goal; Pedro would soon be gone. "A.M.F. Pedro." She muttered as she began shutting down her routines.

"But we still got the bag job right?"

She nodded again, sending escape routes to her remaining Runners. "I've got to get offline, there's a tracker surge coming, do you have what I sent?"

She got four confirmations. "Then I'll see you all back at the Round Table. Godspeed and C-YA."

Yanking her connection, she stumbled, falling into a pile of trash as the virtual world disappeared. XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX, AKA Pendragon looked up at the black sky, trying hard not to choke from the foul smell of the garbage she was lying in. When one did a job, one could not be picky about where they would jack into the system. Slowly she got up, her body aching from the energy surge the Kill program had needed. "Oi, I traded in fine clothes, plentiful food and easy lifestyle for this?" She looked at her hand covered in some unidentifiable brown goo.

"Damn morals, I've lost everything else, but couldn't lose those, could I?" Grumbling she got up, pushing her glasses up on her nose, wiping her hands on a rag. She grabbed her worn and beat up satchel and began hobbling down the alleyway. "I think a good bottle of Port tonight is in order." Checking around and seeing all clear, she made her way towards her transport.

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