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MANGA/STORIES |
ART/PHOTOS |
MEMBERS |
ABOUT |
JOIN |
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Page 1
Story by Eduardo Soliz |
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As the sun rose in the east, a jet flew high over the Texas Hill Country, the sun reflecting off of its frame. In the cockpit sat a young brown-haired woman dressed in a white kimono with colored accents. She cheerfully hummed to herself as she surveyed various screens and controls. She quickly scanned the text on one particular screen, which read: "AUTO PILOT ACTIVE - TIME TO DESTINATION - 50 MINUTES." "Excellent! I have some time to practice!" she happily said to no one in particular as she pulled out a sketchpad, a pencil, and an eraser from a bag on the cockpit floor. After tapping a few buttons, television broadcasts appeared on a few of the less-important screens. A newscast caught her eye; as the anchorman read the morning news, she intensely observed him. After about a minute or so of making mental notes, she began to sketch. "Practice, practice, practice!" the woman happily said to herself, "I am going to do some wonderful commissions for all the people I am going to see today!" After a quarter of an hour of sketching, erasing, holding up the sketchpad and going "hmm" every so often, her work was complete. Her interpretation of the anchorman now occupied the previously blank paper. With a swift hand, she added the final touch: "Sana - August 14, 2009." While admiring (and self-critiquing) her work, a beep sounded and the female voice of the ship's computer filled the air "ALERT - TIME TO DESTINATION - THIRTY MINUTES - PREPARE TO DISENGAGE AUTO PILOT." Sana quickly stowed away her tools and drew her attention to a map of the city below her. "AUTO PILOT DISENGAGED." said the computer as Sana placed her hands on the flight yoke. Moments later, a surprised air traffic controller stared at a radar screen for nearly half a minute before reaching to pick up a red handset: "Chief! You better see this!!" The young armadillo assembled his weapons and made sure they were at the ready. Colored dice of different shapes and sizes, meticulously assembled decks of cards, rulebooks, character sheets, a few game controllers, and one very lucky pair of shoes were spread out upon his bed. Hinode then double-checked his arsenal for the last time. Content that all was at the ready, he pulled out a large backpack from his closet, and started packing his wares for the days ahead. There were wars to be fought, and he was fully prepared to meet any adversary on any virtual field of battle. "I am ready to rock! Look out, San Japan, because here I come!" he thought to himself as he tossed the newly filled backpack over his shoulder with a slight grunt and walked out of the room. Some time later, Hinode, the self-proclaimed "Ultimate Gamer," stood across the street from the Municipal Auditorium, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of the tournaments (and the prizes!) that lay within. The quiet of the morning reinforced the emptiness of the road that lay between him and his goal. With a slight heave, he adjusted his backpack; it was just a little bit heavier than he had anticipated. Suddenly, the bell of a nearby clock began to mark the top of the hour. Hinode looked around for the source of the ringing while internally counting them to himself: "six...seven...eight. Its eight o'clock" he briefly noted as his mind returned to formulating various strategies and countermeasures. He then cast his eyes back upon the road in front of him, which was now full of cars and vehicles darting back in forth as the Friday rush hour began. His eyes widening, a single drop of sweat ran down the side of his head as the precariousness of the situation sank in... "Uh-oh." |
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