![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
his and hers - concluded
May. 25th, 2010 09:25 pmPart four:
“You really think it can be done?” I’m staring into the monitor, into her eyes, willing it to happen, willing the possibility to solidify and become real.
his and hers - part three
May. 24th, 2010 10:14 amPart three:
It was something we had in common, unexpected and delightful a shared love of ancient music. All the riddles and mystic from way back when. We discovered by accident a mutual passion and that was good, we needed something else to distract us.
( Read more... )
It was something we had in common, unexpected and delightful a shared love of ancient music. All the riddles and mystic from way back when. We discovered by accident a mutual passion and that was good, we needed something else to distract us.
( Read more... )
his and hers - part two
May. 19th, 2010 09:41 pm
I am studying him, the Detective, as he paces slowly and self-consciously around the chamber space, a performance; but whether for him or for me I am not certain.
He drops his helmet with a soft clatter, runs grateful hands through the sweat dampened grey at his temples.
"So," he drawls, addressing me by name, "MAGAI. You gonna tell me what we got here? You gonna help me - or just sit there scratching your ass?"
I have studied the human mind and all the known language articulants it can muster, and I understand both the concept and execution of humour and yet I cannot tell if the remark is funny or not.
"How may I be of assistance Detective?" I ask.
his and hers
May. 14th, 2010 07:21 pm
Part one;
Hackers in the system we’ve got hackers in the system we’ve got shadows moving out of synch detaching from the blackness flickering through entry passages, pipes, moving like assassins, like thieves, like raiders.
Separate they move though with a unity of purpose, some plan - hacking into the system, dancers almost, their movement precise and economical, ninjas of the future, hackers in the system.
She plugs her hands into a cortex, clutching the soft gel and wiring, head spasms under the cloaking hood.
He drops down onto the relays, dodges the sliding panels and ceiling cameras, still functioning in this mausoleum.
( Read more... )THIS IS THE VERSION THAT REFUSED TO LOAD - MY SINCERE APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY IN CORRECTING.
