Post by Logan on Apr 1, 2008 13:54:24 GMT -5
"Jesus.... Jesus" Loki muttered, confused and stressed by the presence of so many people "Jesus, that was it. ****, I'm sorry!" Loki yelled desperately to some unseen man
"It was the, uh" Loki's voice spiked for a second, sweat pouring down in droves "the Preacher. He's a ****ing psycho, but I didn't know. I thought it was for the best-- I didn't know. ****, I'm sorry...."
****
*Before the war*
Without natural light, Zion was a dim hole during the night. It went from a source of salvation to a well of despair-- a place where the reality of humanity's stay there became pitifully clear. It was a mousehole, drilled into the crust of the earth as a place for people to hide. Like mice; like rats.
Loki scuttled along the rim of the city rails, half jogging to a nearby house. He cast nervous glances left and right, waiting for someone to jump him. No one did, but Loki continued to look around.
He tapped the door repeatedly, with force that caused his knuckles to get sore. It didn't matter. The pain didn't matter. Tonight was a turning point for him, and he needed to consult one of his closest friends.
Mouse opened the door, tired and annoyed. The strain of a hard day had made him especially weary, and he was in no mood for idle chat with a friend.
"Look, man, it's midnight" Mouse began to whine, but Loki forced his way past him. He pulled down his hood and Mouse stopped dead. Loki looked like a ghost, and moved like a tree in the wind. He was deathly pale, and covered with sweat. His sweatshirt was drenched, and yet he did not take it off. He floated around, constantly moving or twitching or fiddling his fingers.
"What's the matter?" Mouse asked cautiously, pulling a chair over for Loki to sit across from him.
"I dunno..." Loki muttered, barely more than a whisper "I just dunno anymore. This guy, man, this guy..."
"You're talking about the Preacher?" Mouse asked, and his annoyance was sparked again "You know that guy's a psycho, what the hell are you doing with him?"
"It's the things he says!" Loki pleaded, looking at Mouse with a desperation that silenced the other man "Imagine, the things he says... a world, where humans are-are-are free! This anhialation of the machines, this... a world! Our world, that we rule yet again! And I... I want to live in that world."
"The things he says, Loki..." Mouse began, feeling only fatigue again. Loki had been talking for months about these things.
"No, listen!" Loki hissed, violently shoving the table that stood between them to the side. Mouse shut up and looked cautiously at his friend. He was breathing heavily, and rage was in his eyes. Mouse tensed himself, waiting for a fight.
"****, no" Loki swore, letting the angry facade fall. He was like a drug addict, desperate and without a fix. His arms fell limp at his side, and he stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I'm worried, Mouse" Loki said quietly "I'm worried that I'm going to lose this, this sense of... humanity. I'm worried that he's going to suck me in with these words he's saying... so, if all goes to hell, and I regret what I'm going to do... I need to go knowing that I did something to stop him... that I tried."
Loki fumbled around in his pocket for a second, searching for something. He pulled out what looked like a worn floppy disk, and placed it on the table. Loki stood up to leave, looking much calmer than when he had come in. Almost serene. He had found peace of mind in his ramblings, and had decided upon his purpose. Mouse moved slowly as Loki walked towards the exit with a sense of purpose.
"Keep that somewhere safe, in case... anything happens" Loki said plainly.
"Wait" Mouse protested, reaching out for his friend "Where are you going?"
Loki looked one last time at Mouse. They stared at eachother for that last second, and then Loki, without replying, disappeared into the night. The door swung closed behind him. Mouse would never see Loki again.
He looked at the rusty old disk he held in his hands. It would probably load into a Matrix computer, he thought. Whatever it was, he could probably load it up into someone from his new crew under Morpheus. But into who? The crew was always going on dangerous missions. Any one of them might be killed at any given moment. Such was the unstable nature of the human race in their current situation.
Who, he wondered, that question most pressing above all the ones about his friend Loki.
*****
"You were the one he chose" Loki said, finishing his story. He looked for a second at Matrixia "It's in you. The secret to k--"
All of the redpills jolted as a gunshot rang down the halls. Gear and Kyle had their weapons ready to fire, and Tau snapped his own into his hands. Down the long hallway, a man with a trenchcoat and a Fedora draped over his face disappeared around a corner.
On the floor, Loki choked on his own blood, a bullet lodged in his breathing ducts. He was dying. He knew this, knew it as he felt the life ebb from his earthly body. He had died before, in a way, but never with the knowledge that he would not wake up. He had made a promise to Mouse, to himself. He had said that if all went to hell, he would leave the world feeling he had tried to save it.
And in those last, fading seconds, Loki wasn't sure that he had. Panic welled up within him, and he clawed for a few seconds. He clawed against death, against the coming end, against the wave of lifelessness.
But death overcame him. Loki died in panic and terror, uncertain of the future.
ooc: Who is the trenchcoated dude? Chase him to find out! And we are appraoching a climax.
"It was the, uh" Loki's voice spiked for a second, sweat pouring down in droves "the Preacher. He's a ****ing psycho, but I didn't know. I thought it was for the best-- I didn't know. ****, I'm sorry...."
****
*Before the war*
Without natural light, Zion was a dim hole during the night. It went from a source of salvation to a well of despair-- a place where the reality of humanity's stay there became pitifully clear. It was a mousehole, drilled into the crust of the earth as a place for people to hide. Like mice; like rats.
Loki scuttled along the rim of the city rails, half jogging to a nearby house. He cast nervous glances left and right, waiting for someone to jump him. No one did, but Loki continued to look around.
He tapped the door repeatedly, with force that caused his knuckles to get sore. It didn't matter. The pain didn't matter. Tonight was a turning point for him, and he needed to consult one of his closest friends.
Mouse opened the door, tired and annoyed. The strain of a hard day had made him especially weary, and he was in no mood for idle chat with a friend.
"Look, man, it's midnight" Mouse began to whine, but Loki forced his way past him. He pulled down his hood and Mouse stopped dead. Loki looked like a ghost, and moved like a tree in the wind. He was deathly pale, and covered with sweat. His sweatshirt was drenched, and yet he did not take it off. He floated around, constantly moving or twitching or fiddling his fingers.
"What's the matter?" Mouse asked cautiously, pulling a chair over for Loki to sit across from him.
"I dunno..." Loki muttered, barely more than a whisper "I just dunno anymore. This guy, man, this guy..."
"You're talking about the Preacher?" Mouse asked, and his annoyance was sparked again "You know that guy's a psycho, what the hell are you doing with him?"
"It's the things he says!" Loki pleaded, looking at Mouse with a desperation that silenced the other man "Imagine, the things he says... a world, where humans are-are-are free! This anhialation of the machines, this... a world! Our world, that we rule yet again! And I... I want to live in that world."
"The things he says, Loki..." Mouse began, feeling only fatigue again. Loki had been talking for months about these things.
"No, listen!" Loki hissed, violently shoving the table that stood between them to the side. Mouse shut up and looked cautiously at his friend. He was breathing heavily, and rage was in his eyes. Mouse tensed himself, waiting for a fight.
"****, no" Loki swore, letting the angry facade fall. He was like a drug addict, desperate and without a fix. His arms fell limp at his side, and he stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I'm worried, Mouse" Loki said quietly "I'm worried that I'm going to lose this, this sense of... humanity. I'm worried that he's going to suck me in with these words he's saying... so, if all goes to hell, and I regret what I'm going to do... I need to go knowing that I did something to stop him... that I tried."
Loki fumbled around in his pocket for a second, searching for something. He pulled out what looked like a worn floppy disk, and placed it on the table. Loki stood up to leave, looking much calmer than when he had come in. Almost serene. He had found peace of mind in his ramblings, and had decided upon his purpose. Mouse moved slowly as Loki walked towards the exit with a sense of purpose.
"Keep that somewhere safe, in case... anything happens" Loki said plainly.
"Wait" Mouse protested, reaching out for his friend "Where are you going?"
Loki looked one last time at Mouse. They stared at eachother for that last second, and then Loki, without replying, disappeared into the night. The door swung closed behind him. Mouse would never see Loki again.
He looked at the rusty old disk he held in his hands. It would probably load into a Matrix computer, he thought. Whatever it was, he could probably load it up into someone from his new crew under Morpheus. But into who? The crew was always going on dangerous missions. Any one of them might be killed at any given moment. Such was the unstable nature of the human race in their current situation.
Who, he wondered, that question most pressing above all the ones about his friend Loki.
*****
"You were the one he chose" Loki said, finishing his story. He looked for a second at Matrixia "It's in you. The secret to k--"
All of the redpills jolted as a gunshot rang down the halls. Gear and Kyle had their weapons ready to fire, and Tau snapped his own into his hands. Down the long hallway, a man with a trenchcoat and a Fedora draped over his face disappeared around a corner.
On the floor, Loki choked on his own blood, a bullet lodged in his breathing ducts. He was dying. He knew this, knew it as he felt the life ebb from his earthly body. He had died before, in a way, but never with the knowledge that he would not wake up. He had made a promise to Mouse, to himself. He had said that if all went to hell, he would leave the world feeling he had tried to save it.
And in those last, fading seconds, Loki wasn't sure that he had. Panic welled up within him, and he clawed for a few seconds. He clawed against death, against the coming end, against the wave of lifelessness.
But death overcame him. Loki died in panic and terror, uncertain of the future.
ooc: Who is the trenchcoated dude? Chase him to find out! And we are appraoching a climax.