Showing posts with label counter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label counter. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 20, 2022

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 18, 2398

Once they received a message from Leona, telling them that she had managed to get on board The Olimpia all the way in Russian waters, Marie asked the others to not say anything about what happened to them. The whole ordeal with being locked up in a fishbowl for three days was a fluke, and it would just cause needless concern. They were rescued, and all back safe and sound. There was no need to bring it up again.
The rest of the team has returned now. Leona figured it was possible to duplicate anything almost indefinitely as long as they didn’t completely destroy the original object. He shouldn’t need to cut a hole in the center of the lantern. If he just poked the base of it, a new one would be born, and they would both retain their powers. As it turned out, this wasn’t one hundred percent true. Possibly as some kind of inherent function of the quantum duplication knife, each lantern stabbed loses its special ability to illuminate system flaws. What it doesn’t lose, however, is its temporal energy. It’s still stored in there, just unusable, like tearing out the processor in a cell phone, but keeping the battery intact. Temporal energy is amazing and insane, and capable of teleporting them to the other side of the world, but it’s also just a really great power source. The teleporter that Ramses designed only works on immortality water, and it’s not capable of processing raw energy. So they had to take the long way around, but they were able to do it in the air, and that was better than driving up into Russia, and making their way over the land to Finland.
They walk into the condo, happy to be seeing each other again. Marie, Heath, and Kivi are sitting at the kitchen counter. Leona starts to get a weird feeling about it. They all look fine; too perfect, really. Sitting there like this, they’re reminding her of the kids in a teen comedy about a rager they threw before having to clean everything up in preparation for their parents’ return. “What did you do?” she asks them.
“What are you talking about?” Marie asks.
“Something happened,” Leona presses. “What was it?”
“Everything’s fine, we’re glad you’re back,” Marie insists.
Kivi is about to explode. “We were captured by some black ops guys, and taken to this glass prison cell in the middle of a warehouse, where they left us for days—probably to die of starvation, or perhaps even boredom—until Winona Honeycutt came in with, like, an entire army, and took out all the bad guys, and rescued us from being electrocuted by a menacing scowling man, who I guess just wanted to cut his losses, because I’m sure he knew that Senator Honeycutt would want to have us back.”
Leona stares at Kivi for a minute, then turns her attention to Marie. “Why are you keeping things from me?”
“I just wanted our family back. I was afraid that you would go back to the Capital, and we would end up being separated again. I know I’m the cause of the latest issue, with the Fountain of Youth. I just wanted to fix it. I didn’t think it through.”
“Oh, and we met a new friend,” Kivi keeps going. “Her name is Andile, and she—”
“Andile Mhlangu?” Leona interrupts.
“Yeah,” Heath confirms, “do you know her?”
Despite his low intelligence, and poor memory, Mateo actually recognizes and remembers the name. “She was Leona’s college roommate...like, a dozen timelines ago.”

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Frenzy: Spending Time (Part XII)

I catch a bus to Ace’s apartment since I have no identity, and public transportation still allows for such a thing. I still have to do some walking, which is honestly getting to be a pain. I’ve been through a lot over the last two days, and I really just want to go to bed. Assuming Ace is some kind of time traveler, and already knows what’s going on, he’ll probably let me crash at his place again. If he’s not, then I’m about to make an ass out of myself. I go up to his unit and knock on the door.
A woman answers. “Can I help you?”
“Um, does Ace live here?” I ask before adding, “or Horace, that is?” I remember him calling himself that once.
“No, I’m sorry. I’ve never heard that name.”
“I must have the wrong address. Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem,” she answers. “Hey, are you one of those Frenzy runners?”
“I am,” I say. “I’m training.”
“Well, good luck next year.”
“Thanks,” I say before she closes the door.
Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he doesn’t live here yet. A lot can happen in four years. Hell, he might have moved in a month before we first met in the future. Now I truly have no one. I could seek out Lincoln Rutherford, the one person I know for sure understands time travel, but I’m hesitant to do that. He was clearly freaked out to see me before, and I’m not so sure I can trust him. Still, he might be my only option. That will have to wait, though. It’s getting late, and I still have to find somewhere to sleep.
I wander the streets for nearly an hour, trying to find the best place to curl up in a corner and wait out the night. Homeless shelters are regularly closed and replaced. I do not recall where to find one back in 2022. I notice a coffee shop up ahead, and decide that that’s where I want to be. I’ll find some warmth for a few minutes before they kick me out, and someone may even let me borrow the internet so I can find a shelter. I walk in and see serendipity sitting by the fireplace. Maybe The Gravedigger, or even Rutherford, is looking out for me. How else would you explain this? Of all the coffee shops, in all the world, I walk into his. Ace is reading what looks like a very deep and thought-provoking book, and sipping from his tea. I was going to ask him for answers, but seeing him like this makes me realize that he has no clue what’s going on. Whatever he learns about this world, he’s not learned it yet. For now, he’s just a normal guy. A hot normal guy with some kind of pastry that looks better than any food I’ve ever seen.
“You can have it,” Ace suddenly says without looking up from his book.
I look behind me like an idiot. “Are you talking to me?”
“There are several other people here, so I must be talkin’ to you.”
“I’m sorry?”
He laughs and closes his book. “It’s before your time. I can practically smell your hunger. If you need something to eat, that’s available. I didn’t realize it had raisins, so I’m not gonna eat it.”
I don’t like raisins either, but I’m starving. Worried he might change his mind, I quickly grab it and swallow it up. Only afterwards do I feel embarrassed and ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
“Your fine.” He reaches back and takes some paper money out of his pocket. “This place doesn’t give you shit when you pay with dolla dolla bills. That’s why I come here.”
“I...I can’t take your money.” I continue to stammer, “in—in fact, I sh...should be going.” I stand up. I really want to stay with him, but this isn’t right. We’re not supposed to meet for another four years. The longer we’re together here, the more likely it is he’ll remember me when he meets me before the Frenzy. That will just be confusing for him, so I have to cut this short and let it go. It’s time to face the fact that I’m alone in this time. No one can help me, and nor should they try. Even though I don’t consider this my fault, it’s my mess, and I can’t expect anyone to help clean it up.
“Wait,” he stops me. “What’s your name?” he asks, just so that he can get to what he wants to say.
“Serkan,” I reply instinctively. No, I should have used an alias. I’ve made it even worse; must be Tuesday.
“Serkan,” he starts off, “I don’t like to sugarcoat things. I don’t know where you come from, or what’s going on. But I can see that you need food, and you need money. I have those things. I’m actually pretty well-off. I’m not here to judge or question whether you deserve to be in this situation, but what I can do is help. Maybe it was even fate. Of all the coffee shops, in all the world, you walk into mine.”
That’s a direct quote from a thought I just had. “Can you read my mind?”
He laughs. “Can I dowhatnow?”
I don’t want to press it. “Never mind.” I take the wad of cash from his hand. “I very much appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I go up to the counter and wait in line, but as I’m doing so, I find myself frequently look back at Ace. He’s watching me as well. He’s four years younger than last I saw him, which means that he’s only a few years older than me at this point. That’s no big deal...no big deal at all. I probably don’t look like a silly little child to him, and the way his eyes focus on me makes me feel like he recognizes this as well. I try to look up at the chalkboard to determine what I should eat. It has to be filling, cheap, and as healthy as possible. As a coffee shop, it doesn’t have too many options—
Before I know it—and I’m not talking about time travel; just a form of autopilot—I’m in Ace’s apartment. We don’t even get out of the entryway before we start making out and tearing each other’s clothes off. I’m kissing him more passionately than I ever have anyone before. I’m kissing him like an adult. He undoes my Frenzy suit and tugs it off my shoulders. Now I’m standing here topless, like a surfer who hasn’t yet put his wetsuit all the way on. He starts kissing down my chest, drawing closer to the finish line. I laugh in my own head at the metaphor.
He comes back up and looks me in the eyes. “My name is Ace, by the way. Horace.”
“I know,” I say, in the heat of the moment, then I go back to kissing him on the neck.
“What?”
“I mean...that’s a great name.”
“Oh,” he tries to say through the desire.

“I’ve never brought anyone home before,” he says when we wake up in the morning.
“I ain’t never been broughten.”
He chuckles. “You must be hungry. You never did get that crumpet, or whatever, last night.”
“I got something better. But yes, I could go for some quiche, or something.”
He tilts his head. I’ve messed up again. I’m not supposed to know about that. “Funny. I’m kind of known for make an amazing quiche.” He stands up and starts some morning stretches.
“Then I guess I came to the right place.” Despite my time travel taboos, I’m doing pretty well. I’m smoother than I usually am. It must be the sex. I’ve had it before, but not like that; not with a guy like Horace... “What’s your last name?”
“Reaver. Horace Reaver.”
I nod. “Serkan Demir.”
“I feel like such a slut not telling you that before hopping into bed.”
“Then I suppose we’re both sluts.” I sit up on my knees and kiss him again. “I’m all right with that.”
I can feel his lips smile while still attached to mine. “What makes my quiche so good is that it takes an hour to make. I better get started.”
I fall back and rest my head on both my wrists. “I can’t wait that long,” I say in a cutesy voice.
“I’ll make some toast too, and I think I still have a couple hard-boiled eggs in the fridge.”
A few minutes later, I walk over to the kitchen area wearing pants and a shirt I stole from his wardrobe. I sit at the counter and eat my appetizers while watching him do his thing. “I’m not homeless,” I blurt out.
“Okay,” is all he says, not wanting to overstep.
“I just...I can’t go back home.”
He peers at me. “Do they not accept you as you are.”
“Oh, no. It’s nothing like. I was a gay baby. I never needed to come out to my family. I can’t really explain why I have to stay away from there, though. I just have some things I need to work out on my own.”
“I understand that. I mean, I don’t understand what you’re going through, but you and I are okay.”
This guy had sex with someone he thought was homeless. He brought him home to his house with fancy television monitors and a bunch of clothes, and then he slept with him. He may not make the wisest decisions, but he’s someone I can trust, and I already knew that. I can’t do this on my own. If Horace Reaver won’t help me through being marooned in the timestream, then no one in the world will. I have this urge to explain myself, so that he doesn’t think my parents kicked me out, or something. I need him to know who I am; why I’m here. “I’m a time traveler.”
“What?”
“I was in 2026, and then I fell in a grave, of all places. When I crawled out, I found myself in 2022. I don’t know why or how it happened, but I can’t get back. It looks like I’m gonna have to go the long way ‘round.”
He stops cooking and studies me. “Are you telling the truth?”
“I know it sounds crazy...” I start to say.
He puts down the spatula and goes over to grab his phone.
“I understand if you have to call the authorities, or a mental hospital, or whatever. You should know, however, that last night was real. That meant something to me. I’ve never met anyone like y—”
“Ulinthra?” he asks into the phone, cutting me off. “How fast can you get to Kansas City? I think we’ve just found the proof we were looking for.”

Sunday, August 28, 2016

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 5, 2090

Knowing that he was being put through Vin Diesel movies made things easier. Well, it made it so that he always knew how to handle each challenge, but the challenges themselves were extremely difficult and dangerous. He drove a lot of vintage cars. It was the year 2090, and actually very clearly on a different planet, so there was no telling what to call these kinds of cars, or what they were doing there. He would transition to a different location every time one of the challenges was complete. Sometimes he was teleported, but sometimes the next one was put right beside the one before, like walking between two separate movie sets. He didn’t do every single movie, and not in any particular order, but he did get through a heavy chunk of them. Not all of Diesel’s movies were super actiony, but that didn’t seem to matter to The Cleanser. One time he just had to babysit a dysfunctional family of androids who thought they were people for a few hours. The duck was real, though.
At the end of all challenges were the pearly gates. He found that to be quite insulting, but he knew that he couldn’t say anything. There was an eerie chill as he passed through the gates. Nothing stopped him from going through, but he did find it to be frustratingly euphoric. After the gates came a set of marble stairs, on the top of which was a temporal rift waiting to take him somewhere else. He stopped being able to move for a few seconds while in the swirling mix of time and space before it moved him to what looked like a hotel lobby.
“Hello,” a bellhop said from the other side of her counter.
“Hi.”
“Are you checking in?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I’m looking for something here.”
She adjusted her computer keyboard ever so slightly, indicating that she was ready to type. “Could you describe the thing? Maybe I could help you.”
Meliora strode in from the side and waved the bellhop away. “I’ve got this, Dodeka. Why don’t you take your break?”
Dodeka, the bellhop left through the backdoor.
“Meliora Reaver,” Mateo said as if seeing an old friend. “The last time I saw you, you were sending me back in time to save your mother, Leona from being killed by your father.”
“I’ve seen you on other occasions.”
Mateo looked around. A few people were sitting in the lounge chairs. Others were using courtesy phones. A few kids were in their swimsuits, happily speed walking towards the pool. “Is this Sanctuary?”
“It is, yes.”
“So I’m about to die.”
“Do you want to die?”
“I do not.”
“Good, because you won’t. Not here, anyway.”
“I thought all time travelers died if they came here...except for you and Dave.”
“This is true. But you and Leona are special.”
“Have you met this version of her?”
“The one who has no idea of our connection because she’s from a new timeline? Yes, I meet all my guests.”
“You’re not going to tell her who you are?”
“Would you?”
“Definitely not.”
She nodded. “You’re welcome to stay here, Mister Matic. This is a safe place. The powers that be cannot get to you here. Neither can any choosing one.”
“What’s the literal, actual reason I have access to this place.”
She narrowed her eyes and drew closer. “Believe me when I tell you this, Mateo, I have clue why you’re different. All we know is that you are. That’s why the Cleanser won’t just kill you, and why the powers that be have allowed more loopholes to your pattern than they do for other salmon. We’ve known you in realities you do not recall, and you always prove yourself to be different, but we’ve never uncovered an explanation for it.”
“Okay,” Mateo said to her. “I believe you.”
“Would you like to see my mother?”
“Something tells me that she does not want to see me.”
Meliora shrugged. “I dunno. It’s been years from her perspective. This is an amazing place, if I do say so myself. It’s hard to stay mad when you live here.”
“But it’s hard to get to.”
“Dave and I can skip all that, but yes, I commissioned those challenges to be put there so that choosers couldn’t jump in close to Sanctuary and then just walk in manually.”
“Commissioned who?”
“Boyce, The Rogue. He did it while he was still in Baudin’s chooser body. You never saw him as Baudin. He was nicer back then.”
“Boyce designed it? The one who loves movies? I guess that explains why it was so much like all my other tribulations.”
Meliora laughed. “Yeah, he actually designed the whole hotel. The challenges, however, he designed specifically for you.”
“He did?”
“He knew you liked Vin Diesel movies. He said it was the only way to keep everyone out except for you. I assumed you knew, and he posthumously sent you here like he had always planned on doing.”
“No, the Cleanser put me here.”
“What?” Meliora yelled, surprising a few of the guests. “Did you bring him here?”
“No, he just sent me off on my own.”
“Did he give you anything?”
“Yeah,” Mateo said, presenting his clothes. “He provided my whole wardrobe.”
“Oh my God!” She jumped over to the desk and slammed her palm on the little bell. “Dodeka! Knife! Now!”
Dodeka ran through the door like she was ready for it. She threw a knife at Meliora who caught the business end with her hand.
“Holy crap, be careful!” Mateo cried.
Meliora cut into her own hand even more. Then she started drawing some weird symbol on the wall. “Boyce warded the whole building against trespassers, like they do in the show Supernatural—God, that guy loved TV and movies. You coming here with those tethers broke the wards.” She hovered her hand in front of the strange blood symbol while Dodeka set off an alarm that sent guests scurrying to their rooms. “Just a little, but enough that they could slip in. I have to put everybody on lockdown.” She reeled back. “This is gonna hurt a little bit, but we’ll live.”
Just before she was able to slam her palm on the symbol, a huge blade of some kind flew by and sliced right through Meliora’s hand, dropping it to the ground. Some of her blood shot into Mateo’s face. She didn’t scream in pain, but in anger. “Goddammit!”
Mateo looked back and saw the Cleanser, arm down in follow-through position. “Nailed it,” he said, ever so coolly.
The Blender was standing next to him. “I could have made it cleaner.” Cutting hands off of people was normal to them.
“Ha!” the Cleanser laughed. Good one!”
“All right, bro,” the Blender said. “You got your girl. My turn.”
The Cleanser seemed reluctant. He gave Mateo an apologetic look before directing his attention to Meliora. “What room is Leona Delaney in?”
“Fuck you!” Meliora spat back, holding her stump. It was already starting to magically grow back, though.
He pointed violently to Dodeka. “You. Room number.”
“Fuck you!” Dodeka echoed.
“I don’t need either you bitches,” the Cleanser said as a matter of fact. He kept his hand pointed towards Dodeka, letting the space between them ripple. The ripples drew closer to her, threatening to tear her apart like he did to Leona’s stepmother, and like Lucius did to himself and others during the first Gladiator tribulation.
“No!” Mateo commanded, reaching towards the ripples himself. Somehow, completely unexpectedly, the ripples began to dissipate.
Everyone was shocked by this, everyone but Meliora. “Stop now,” she whispered. “Don’t waste it.”
Mateo let go, and so did the Cleanser, no longer focused on killing an innocent Dodeka who was now proceeding to run away.
“You got her blood on your face,” the Cleanser said, menacingly itching his cheek. “I should have been looking out for that.
Mateo looked to Meliora, and then to the Blender, then back to the Cleanser. So that’s what it was. That’s how Future!Leona had shown up with temporal powers. She must have received a blood transfusion from a chooser. Meliora seemed to think it was only temporary, and he didn’t know how much juice he would have left, so he decided to use it wisely. He put on his game face and walked towards the Cleanser.
“No. No, no, no, no, no!” the Cleanser ordered. “Bad salmon. That’s a very bad salmon. Back in your river. Now.”
Mateo took the Cleanser by the shoulder, wrenching them up in their sockets to maintain leverage over him.
He began to whisper to Mateo, but the other two could hear. “You have one chance. If you use the blood the right way—and trust me that not even she will ever give you more, because it’s bad for the choosing one donor—you could free yourself from the chains of time travel. You could be human again. But if you kill me with what little power you have left, you’ll go back to slavery.”
Mateo looked down, pretending to think about it. “I’ll live. But you won’t.”
“Noooo!” the Cleanser screamed again. A bluish light emanated from Mateo’s hands and began to spread up and down the Cleanser’s body. He was helpless to stop it, and then he was just gone.
The Blender looked at him like he was a dumbass. “You do realize that all you did was banish him from Sanctuary, right?”
Mateo looked over to Meliora whose hand was nearly complete. “He was right, I’m not gonna give you more.”
“Then it’ll have to do. Anything to protect Leona.”
She looked at him again like he was unintelligent, but more like a dumb cat who didn’t know what a laser pointer was. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m the one who wants Leona. You signed a contract.”
“To blend her brain, or whatever you call it? You’re still not over that?” Mateo asked. “That was a million years ago.”
Lightyears,” Meliora corrected.
“All contracts are final.”
“That’s not a real rule. You could just let it go. Even if I had signed something, you’re just a person. You’re a free-thinking individual who could choose to move on. Hell, the word is even in the name of your species.”
“That’s not how I operate.”
“We all need to learn to change. Don’t be so closed-minded.”
“Don’t stall. Where is she?”
“No idea. I just got here.”
She looked behind him. “Melly?”
Meliora was flexing her fingers, testing out her new hand.
“Melly, I’m not like Zef. I’m on the job. You have to give her to me.” She made it sound like this was another rule, but the kind that all choosers had collectively agreed to.
“She’s not wrong,” Meliora said to Mateo. “She’s not supposed to be here, but she made it here by a genuine loophole. Now that she is here, I can’t interfere in her work. Otherwise, I open myself up to real trouble.”
“Meliora, no,” Mateo insisted.
“I’ve no choice.”
“What would your father say? He would want you to protect her at all costs.”
“Not at the risk of his daughter’s life,” she disagreed. “Not at the risk of me.” She nodded to the Blender. “Room 1408.”
“No,” Mateo said through a deep exhale.
Meliora snapped her fingers and instantly apported Leona to the lobby.
“This can’t be good,” Leona said.
The Blender reached up to Leona’s head. “This has been a long time coming.”
“I don’t understand what you’re doing. No, don’t. Stop!”
Ignoring her protests, the Blender placed her fingers on Leona’s temples and let her power surge through her. Leona shuddered and shook. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and drool leaked out of the corners of her mouth. Once the Blender was done, she quickly pulled her arms away and took a couple steps back. They both struggled to catch their breaths.
Mateo stepped over to Leona and placed his hand on her back. “Are you okay? Do you remember me, love?”
She took one look at him before making her own step back while staring into space. And then she screamed. For at least five minutes.

Friday, July 22, 2016

Microstory 370: Utility?

Click here for a list of every step.
Passing Acquaintances

I’ve almost always dreaded getting to this entry. Not since the very beginning, mind you, because when I first laid this series out, I had an idea of what this meant. You know that thing where you write a note on a fast food restaurant napkin, then you go back to it, and you’ve lost context? If you’re a digital native, then no, I guess you don’t. Well, it’s annoying. Utility is about being useful, so I understand that part. What I don’t get is why I thought it was sufficiently different than, say economic participation or capacity to provide or positive contribution. Did I tell you how my process started? I first took Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, and teased out 33 “needs” people have, some of which are more like wants. Then I broke them all into thirds so that I could make a whole set. I think I stemmed this one from preexisting topics without quite being able to admit to myself that it wasn’t different enough. I’m just useless. Haha, get it? I just went to my website and found out that I’ve already told you this. But I think it’s okay because what are the chances you read that other one, and then read this one? What are the chances you’ve read any of them, including this one? This story has two...uh. No, two hundred twenty, wait now I’m off. Two-hundred and thirty-nine words. Crap. As of the end of this sentence, I’ve done 252 words so far. There—noo! Have I told you about special characters? Ellipses and em dashes throw off the word count. Some counters count the string of text on either side of them as separate words, and some don’t. So if you’ve ever plugged one of these into an online word counter, and thought I was off, that’s just your perspective. Whoa, #throwbackThursday to my Perspectives series, which I personally consider to be my greatest microfiction achievement. We’ll have to wait and see with my faux headlines from the 500s, my dreams in the 800s, and my 99 900s problems. Oh yeah, I have this planned out through 2018 and beyond. Here’s a picture of a distorted utility meter as a pun.
I know what all of this means, I swear.