Hexaflexagon Member
STATUS: I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right? 6 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 3 mos ago
- Old Guild Username: Hexaflexagon
- Joined: 12 yrs ago
- Posts: 1496 (0.33 / day)
- VMs: 4
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- Hexaflexagon 12 yrs ago
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6 yrs ago
Current
I teach my first online lecture today... this shouldn't be too hard right?
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11 yrs ago
Tout ce qui est fait n'est plus à faire
11 yrs ago
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
11 yrs ago
"El amor es como el fuego. Suelen ver el humo los que están fuera antes que las llamas los que están dentro."
Bio
Hexaflexagon (Concept)
In geometry, flexagons are flat models, usually constructed by folding strips of paper, that can be flexed or folded in certain ways to reveal faces besides the two that were originally on the back and front.
Hexaflexagon (Person?)
Academic who somehow got conned into working for the Government. Been role-playing both on forums and TTRPGs for close to twenty years at this point. I'm like 99% retired from active RPing on the Guild, but I still like to poke my head onto here once in a while to make sure that I didn't leave the lights on.
Most Recent Posts
In
Katawa Shoujo ~ Disability Girls ~ (All Genders Welcome) REBOOT
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
In
Katawa Shoujo ~ Disability Girls ~ (All Genders Welcome) REBOOT
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Magic Magnum said
Hey, hey, HEY! Canada has many anime weeaboo's who are more Japanesse than Canadian at heart! :P And I say that as a Canadia.
Major Ursa said
Japanese...but said like finesse...I. LIKE. IT.*glomps la fellow Canadian*3: <(I <3 U, sempai~!)
And today we learned that Canada is basically just Japan apparently but with more moose and bears. And now you know. *Que NBC jingle*
In
Katawa Shoujo ~ Disability Girls ~ (All Genders Welcome) REBOOT
→
12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Did Somebody say a Manly Picnic?
~~~~~~~~
In all serious though, I would love to try and give this the old gentleman's try.
Name: Nobuyuki Ueda
Age: 17
Grade (1st/2nd/3rd year): 3rd Year
Disability: Friedreich's ataxia: In short a degenerative disease that slowly destroys the nervous system, to the point of eventual death.
Personality:
The 3rd year with a cane mostly seen around the Art Department, is characterized more less by the constant smile that he wears upon his face. An odd feature for one destined to meet death, the ever looking forward optimist. He has a personalty to match his persistent smile, gregarious, and decidedly alive at least in personality even if his body deteriorates a little bit more every day. This comes mostly from a promise he made to somebody, a promise that even though the world is a pointlessly cruel place without meaning to it, that even though everything they did was pointless and that in the end they would return to the dust that they once came from. To be put simply by words spoken ironically enough by everyone's favorite God is dead, pessimist Nietzsche. "If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed." For in his eyes even though in the end it is all futile and the world is a dark scary place, while he still stood he might as well do his best to make sure everyone gets that feel good fuzzy feeling
Background:
As Nobuyuki-san himself puts it, in life well some people just get more sand in the hourglass then others. He was one of those people that did not have a lot of sand to start with, and the sand he had left was slipping through his fingers to be washed away by the unforgiving seas of time. Diagnosed with Friedreich's ataxia at a relatively young age, he knew that he was living more or less on borrowed time. When living thirty years, is the generous best case scenario before your body degrades to the point of death, you are able to put somethings in perspective. That being said, his early years were normal enough. Not able to compete in most school sports and activities beside very minimal low strain stuff and his Tai Chi regime instructed to him by his doctor, to help at least build up what he had stronger so that it took more to break him down. Instead he turned his attention to art classes and drawing, which required less physical strain on his body and allowed him to at least do something while the other kids played outside. His drawing and artistic ability grew and leading up to high school, he was always seen in whatever school he was attending's art department, where he was even able to make friends and have the semblance of a normal life.
Though it was not always sunshine and rainbows as when he was thirteen and to try and to slow down the Scoliosis of his spine, they surgically implanted titanium screws and rods into his back and spinal cord to help keep him afloat and he almost died during the surgery its self. His father and mother worked at their family Inn in the small town he grew up, that has been passed down through his father's line for generations. Though they never talked about it around him Nobuyuki Ueda knew that his medical expenses were accumulating to the point that exceeded the salary of a pair of Inn Keeper's in a resort town. And that is why he was so surprised when he learned that his parents had somehow scavenged up enough money for him to be sent to Yamaku academy, for even with the help of money earned for scholarships do to Ueda's academics, it was still a lot of money for the Nobuyuki family as comfortably middle class as they may be. But Ueda's parents wanted to at least give him a chance to go to place where he would not be the odd kid out, a place where he was seemingly normal. And so at the start of his first year he went to Yamaku academy.
He made an impression upon his class, when he was told to introduce himself to his peers he stood up in front of the class and told them all very simply. "My name is Nobuyuki Ueda and I'm going to die before the age of forty." For you see Ueda had just come from another series of surgeries and medical trails of new drugs, designed to be the "God Drug" the medical community was looking for. Of course none of them worked in the end, at the best they added another week to his life expectancy chart. So he was tired and disheveled and not content at all to leave behind the normalcy he had established at his old school. For you see Ueda had not yet met a very important person in his life, the person that made he swear the aforementioned promise above. Ueda was much more like the pessimistic downer that you would expect from someone that was slowly dying, lashing out against people and refusing to even remotely talking to most. But then a girl came along and changed everything during the middle of his first year, a girl that you could not get Ueda to talk about as if it was opening night at a Broadway theater and her name was Macbeth. And it was only then that he became the much more optimistic individual he is currently.
And now in his third year, he is seen as a relatively well liked individual around the academy. Though his art style his shifted as his body now lacks the fine motor control requred to draw relatively straight he has instead moved onto to Pollock inspired Action Paintings Well renown to the rest of the student body for being a person that you go to when you need the sage like wisdom of a Tibetan Buddhist Monk that instead of listening to throat singing listened to The Pixies. And yet some might notice something with Ueda and that is everyone considers him an associate, somebody they wouldn't mind watching their back in a fight. But since he came in the past three years, know one could really feel comfortable calling him their friend. For to be a friend one requires the general knowledge of each other on both sides and most know nothing of the boy. Accept that he seemingly exists in an odd mixture of a world between ours and somewhere else.
Other Info:
- As mentioned due to the breakdown of the neural tissue in his spine, he has started carrying a cane with him since the beginning of his second year to help him traverse about
- Is really into Alt Rock for some reason
- He usual haunts are the school's roof and the art department its self, though he is seen elsewhere as well, and even about town on the rare occasion.
~~~~~~~~
In all serious though, I would love to try and give this the old gentleman's try.
Name: Nobuyuki Ueda
Age: 17
Grade (1st/2nd/3rd year): 3rd Year
Disability: Friedreich's ataxia: In short a degenerative disease that slowly destroys the nervous system, to the point of eventual death.
Personality:
The 3rd year with a cane mostly seen around the Art Department, is characterized more less by the constant smile that he wears upon his face. An odd feature for one destined to meet death, the ever looking forward optimist. He has a personalty to match his persistent smile, gregarious, and decidedly alive at least in personality even if his body deteriorates a little bit more every day. This comes mostly from a promise he made to somebody, a promise that even though the world is a pointlessly cruel place without meaning to it, that even though everything they did was pointless and that in the end they would return to the dust that they once came from. To be put simply by words spoken ironically enough by everyone's favorite God is dead, pessimist Nietzsche. "If we affirm one moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed." For in his eyes even though in the end it is all futile and the world is a dark scary place, while he still stood he might as well do his best to make sure everyone gets that feel good fuzzy feeling
Background:
As Nobuyuki-san himself puts it, in life well some people just get more sand in the hourglass then others. He was one of those people that did not have a lot of sand to start with, and the sand he had left was slipping through his fingers to be washed away by the unforgiving seas of time. Diagnosed with Friedreich's ataxia at a relatively young age, he knew that he was living more or less on borrowed time. When living thirty years, is the generous best case scenario before your body degrades to the point of death, you are able to put somethings in perspective. That being said, his early years were normal enough. Not able to compete in most school sports and activities beside very minimal low strain stuff and his Tai Chi regime instructed to him by his doctor, to help at least build up what he had stronger so that it took more to break him down. Instead he turned his attention to art classes and drawing, which required less physical strain on his body and allowed him to at least do something while the other kids played outside. His drawing and artistic ability grew and leading up to high school, he was always seen in whatever school he was attending's art department, where he was even able to make friends and have the semblance of a normal life.
Though it was not always sunshine and rainbows as when he was thirteen and to try and to slow down the Scoliosis of his spine, they surgically implanted titanium screws and rods into his back and spinal cord to help keep him afloat and he almost died during the surgery its self. His father and mother worked at their family Inn in the small town he grew up, that has been passed down through his father's line for generations. Though they never talked about it around him Nobuyuki Ueda knew that his medical expenses were accumulating to the point that exceeded the salary of a pair of Inn Keeper's in a resort town. And that is why he was so surprised when he learned that his parents had somehow scavenged up enough money for him to be sent to Yamaku academy, for even with the help of money earned for scholarships do to Ueda's academics, it was still a lot of money for the Nobuyuki family as comfortably middle class as they may be. But Ueda's parents wanted to at least give him a chance to go to place where he would not be the odd kid out, a place where he was seemingly normal. And so at the start of his first year he went to Yamaku academy.
He made an impression upon his class, when he was told to introduce himself to his peers he stood up in front of the class and told them all very simply. "My name is Nobuyuki Ueda and I'm going to die before the age of forty." For you see Ueda had just come from another series of surgeries and medical trails of new drugs, designed to be the "God Drug" the medical community was looking for. Of course none of them worked in the end, at the best they added another week to his life expectancy chart. So he was tired and disheveled and not content at all to leave behind the normalcy he had established at his old school. For you see Ueda had not yet met a very important person in his life, the person that made he swear the aforementioned promise above. Ueda was much more like the pessimistic downer that you would expect from someone that was slowly dying, lashing out against people and refusing to even remotely talking to most. But then a girl came along and changed everything during the middle of his first year, a girl that you could not get Ueda to talk about as if it was opening night at a Broadway theater and her name was Macbeth. And it was only then that he became the much more optimistic individual he is currently.
And now in his third year, he is seen as a relatively well liked individual around the academy. Though his art style his shifted as his body now lacks the fine motor control requred to draw relatively straight he has instead moved onto to Pollock inspired Action Paintings Well renown to the rest of the student body for being a person that you go to when you need the sage like wisdom of a Tibetan Buddhist Monk that instead of listening to throat singing listened to The Pixies. And yet some might notice something with Ueda and that is everyone considers him an associate, somebody they wouldn't mind watching their back in a fight. But since he came in the past three years, know one could really feel comfortable calling him their friend. For to be a friend one requires the general knowledge of each other on both sides and most know nothing of the boy. Accept that he seemingly exists in an odd mixture of a world between ours and somewhere else.
Other Info:
- As mentioned due to the breakdown of the neural tissue in his spine, he has started carrying a cane with him since the beginning of his second year to help him traverse about
- Is really into Alt Rock for some reason
- He usual haunts are the school's roof and the art department its self, though he is seen elsewhere as well, and even about town on the rare occasion.
Still hereeee.
In
Red vs Blue: A Bright Beginning (Red vs Blue Prequel RP)
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12 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Sure I'll charge into the breach and to see if we make it out the other side.
Side Character G said
Also when Correctors enter DgtWld, their body 'disappears' in the real world yeah? since they enter DgtWld with their mind, body and soul.
Krauxis said
And I kinda thought we didn't so much disappear as just get our thoughts and senses transferred in, leaving us basically in a coma IRL.
Yeah, I was under the impression of the same idea of it as Krauxis. Hence why they all found a nice place to crash upon, before jumping in. Because connecting while standing and going into a comatose state and falling and hitting into something like a table or such leading to messy implications.
"Ah, well I have faith that the clouds and the many other ethereal subjects will bow down to your kingly demands and the sun will shine forthright your majesty." Satoru proclamied with a courtly extravagant bow. Satoru poured himself a drink allowing the silky bitter warmth of the whiskey coat his throat, relishing in these moments of peace that seemed to have as of late have been flung few and far between. Soon enough the others filed in.
The good thing about the nature of their line of work was that common squabble, resentment and envy that was present in a more normal work environment. When you have each other's life on the line there was no room for distrust and hate. Satoru had always thought it to be an interesting fact about how life and death situations had the ability to bring all types of people together. Satoru had know known Yasukazu for about just as long as he had Mima and Soshi. The resident ball handler was the type that was very useful to have on your side of the court: dependable, grace under pressure, and the works. Sarah on the other hand Satoru had only known for sometime now as was the case with everyone else. Though she was a nice girl, not at all portraying the standard stuck up foreigner traits that were usually displayed on the net and television. Together they mad a patchwork group of personalities that worked well enough together in and out of combat and that was all you could really ask for in their given circumstance.
They talked idly for sometime, it was casual and relaxed as if for a moment they were truly just an odd assortment of friends rather then a collective group of Gvn spooks, that secretly help keep the weight of the world off of Atlas. In the end though the reality of it all was still present in Satoru's head as he took another swig of his drink, a smile on his face. That was the part that bothered him the most really, his ability at which he was able to brush aside the darker truths of their jobs. But in the end it was a skill that every Corrector, nay every person that performed a job where lives were on the line. It was one of his own personal little mantra's that he kept drilled in his head, for he knew the moment that he started blaming himself, putting weight to could haves and would ofs, becomes the point that you lose sight of the bigger picture. In their line of work people died all the day, it was a fact that the Gvn agents that recruited them made a big deal in emphasizing, was the high mortality rate. And yet here was a bunch of kids barely reaching the definition to be called an adult who all had the choice to walk away. And yet none of them did.
Satoru was dragged out of this morbid train of thought by Mima and Soshi beginning to voice their concerns. Satoru listened intently to them and what they were saying was all very much true. He sure as hell knew that he had felt it, and he was pretty sure the others felt it but it felt as if they had dived too deep and too quickly into a battle that seemingly had no end. The implications and the effects of them being overstretched as a seemingly endless series of attacks and alerts went out each day. Most of them had been working on two to three hours of sleep a night, and the effects of it had begun to show. But it was what they had to do wasn't it? If they did not extend themselves as far as they could, something could slip through the net, it could be something harmless like a small virus that just siphoned funds out of one's accounts, but it could be something much worse a terrorist attack akin to the one that happened in America three years prior, fifty people died and a hundred others were put in a hospital. For if they at least had the chance to save a life, they had to take it even it wore them out in the process. The end justify the means and all that.
The fact that hit home the most though, was how he knew how much Soshi and Mima cared about the rest of them. Mima being basically a seconded overprotective mother to everyone, even Sarah by this point. It was a fact that Satoru came to understanding very quickly, wither you liked it or not if you were a part of Mima's team then she officially became protective as a mother bear of you. To be fair they all cared in their own way, they had to care. They were a family bound in the blood of battle. They had to stick together for the pebbles of human isolation get swept up in the currents of time, but the bolder of trust it would stand firm in the strongest of raging currents. They had lost a lot of people over the years, their friends, their family. And none of them wanted to go through that feeling again.
Satoru cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink before speaking, flashing a small smile. "Mima, I have faith in our ability nay our dumb luck in the field of not getting killed. Beside we can't just sit around and hide when things get a bit hard on us. We have to take the punches and throw back some hurting bombs. It is all we can really do at this point. Because any other action would end with us on the execution block for treason. And personally I think we all look much better without nooses on our necks. Then again we could just vanish... get thwacked by Gvn spooks higher up the food chain than us...But let us not worry about that, if it comes to that. Well, we will cross that bridge when we get there." Satoru declared triumphant though on the inside, he was a lot less sure and the thought that something bigger and much more aggressive was brewing, worried him, but like everything he had to brush those thoughts aside, to be dealt on his own time as he lay awake in his bed, knowing all too well he was not going to get any sleep.
A few moments later, there phones went off and a sort of business like silence took over the air. "Speak of the devil" Satoru muttered to himself as he flipped on his phone. He looked for a place that he could crash onto into before jumping in, the others doing the same getting comfortable for they might be in there for awhile. He finally was content with a large roundish chair set by one the large glass windows. For if Satoru was going to be killed, at least the view would be nice. Ironically enough as Soshi had declared earlier seemingly ages ago, the first few specks of sun began to pierce through the afternoon grey. Satoru rested back into the chair, letting the cushion material seemingly absorb him into it, he looked around on last time and exhaled deeply before pushing a button on his phone as a low pitched humming resonated from somewhere in the back of his head.
Soon the humming was replaced with a radiating warmth and then the feeling of being thrown face first into a lake on a cold winters day. The materialization senesation being a bit different for each and every user as their brains reacted to their own Mchips. A wide endless expanse progress as far as they eye could see in every direction. A small holographic display flashed in front of his face for a moment stating in bold font; Connection successfully established. Welcome Futen. He swiped his hand in front of him and the display vanished. Now standing a few feet off from the meeting point was a man dressed in curt smooth western dress, akin to that not uncommon during the Meiji Restoration, an odd mixture between traditional Japanese attire and more modern western dress. A sword hung in a scabbed at his waist, he cracked his neck in one direction and then the other before walking quickly up to the others as they started to group together. As he heard his two courageous leaders voiced their concern to one another, he stepped over and spoke as optimistic as ever.
"Oh, you always have a bad feeling about everything we do E.G. Take a deep breath and smell the pixels. Rekindle that sense of ever present adventure! Or are we going to have to promote Ice to the chipper one that enjoys prancing in fields and cuddling with animals. For I don't think that really fits his style."
The good thing about the nature of their line of work was that common squabble, resentment and envy that was present in a more normal work environment. When you have each other's life on the line there was no room for distrust and hate. Satoru had always thought it to be an interesting fact about how life and death situations had the ability to bring all types of people together. Satoru had know known Yasukazu for about just as long as he had Mima and Soshi. The resident ball handler was the type that was very useful to have on your side of the court: dependable, grace under pressure, and the works. Sarah on the other hand Satoru had only known for sometime now as was the case with everyone else. Though she was a nice girl, not at all portraying the standard stuck up foreigner traits that were usually displayed on the net and television. Together they mad a patchwork group of personalities that worked well enough together in and out of combat and that was all you could really ask for in their given circumstance.
They talked idly for sometime, it was casual and relaxed as if for a moment they were truly just an odd assortment of friends rather then a collective group of Gvn spooks, that secretly help keep the weight of the world off of Atlas. In the end though the reality of it all was still present in Satoru's head as he took another swig of his drink, a smile on his face. That was the part that bothered him the most really, his ability at which he was able to brush aside the darker truths of their jobs. But in the end it was a skill that every Corrector, nay every person that performed a job where lives were on the line. It was one of his own personal little mantra's that he kept drilled in his head, for he knew the moment that he started blaming himself, putting weight to could haves and would ofs, becomes the point that you lose sight of the bigger picture. In their line of work people died all the day, it was a fact that the Gvn agents that recruited them made a big deal in emphasizing, was the high mortality rate. And yet here was a bunch of kids barely reaching the definition to be called an adult who all had the choice to walk away. And yet none of them did.
Satoru was dragged out of this morbid train of thought by Mima and Soshi beginning to voice their concerns. Satoru listened intently to them and what they were saying was all very much true. He sure as hell knew that he had felt it, and he was pretty sure the others felt it but it felt as if they had dived too deep and too quickly into a battle that seemingly had no end. The implications and the effects of them being overstretched as a seemingly endless series of attacks and alerts went out each day. Most of them had been working on two to three hours of sleep a night, and the effects of it had begun to show. But it was what they had to do wasn't it? If they did not extend themselves as far as they could, something could slip through the net, it could be something harmless like a small virus that just siphoned funds out of one's accounts, but it could be something much worse a terrorist attack akin to the one that happened in America three years prior, fifty people died and a hundred others were put in a hospital. For if they at least had the chance to save a life, they had to take it even it wore them out in the process. The end justify the means and all that.
The fact that hit home the most though, was how he knew how much Soshi and Mima cared about the rest of them. Mima being basically a seconded overprotective mother to everyone, even Sarah by this point. It was a fact that Satoru came to understanding very quickly, wither you liked it or not if you were a part of Mima's team then she officially became protective as a mother bear of you. To be fair they all cared in their own way, they had to care. They were a family bound in the blood of battle. They had to stick together for the pebbles of human isolation get swept up in the currents of time, but the bolder of trust it would stand firm in the strongest of raging currents. They had lost a lot of people over the years, their friends, their family. And none of them wanted to go through that feeling again.
Satoru cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink before speaking, flashing a small smile. "Mima, I have faith in our ability nay our dumb luck in the field of not getting killed. Beside we can't just sit around and hide when things get a bit hard on us. We have to take the punches and throw back some hurting bombs. It is all we can really do at this point. Because any other action would end with us on the execution block for treason. And personally I think we all look much better without nooses on our necks. Then again we could just vanish... get thwacked by Gvn spooks higher up the food chain than us...But let us not worry about that, if it comes to that. Well, we will cross that bridge when we get there." Satoru declared triumphant though on the inside, he was a lot less sure and the thought that something bigger and much more aggressive was brewing, worried him, but like everything he had to brush those thoughts aside, to be dealt on his own time as he lay awake in his bed, knowing all too well he was not going to get any sleep.
A few moments later, there phones went off and a sort of business like silence took over the air. "Speak of the devil" Satoru muttered to himself as he flipped on his phone. He looked for a place that he could crash onto into before jumping in, the others doing the same getting comfortable for they might be in there for awhile. He finally was content with a large roundish chair set by one the large glass windows. For if Satoru was going to be killed, at least the view would be nice. Ironically enough as Soshi had declared earlier seemingly ages ago, the first few specks of sun began to pierce through the afternoon grey. Satoru rested back into the chair, letting the cushion material seemingly absorb him into it, he looked around on last time and exhaled deeply before pushing a button on his phone as a low pitched humming resonated from somewhere in the back of his head.
Soon the humming was replaced with a radiating warmth and then the feeling of being thrown face first into a lake on a cold winters day. The materialization senesation being a bit different for each and every user as their brains reacted to their own Mchips. A wide endless expanse progress as far as they eye could see in every direction. A small holographic display flashed in front of his face for a moment stating in bold font; Connection successfully established. Welcome Futen. He swiped his hand in front of him and the display vanished. Now standing a few feet off from the meeting point was a man dressed in curt smooth western dress, akin to that not uncommon during the Meiji Restoration, an odd mixture between traditional Japanese attire and more modern western dress. A sword hung in a scabbed at his waist, he cracked his neck in one direction and then the other before walking quickly up to the others as they started to group together. As he heard his two courageous leaders voiced their concern to one another, he stepped over and spoke as optimistic as ever.
"Oh, you always have a bad feeling about everything we do E.G. Take a deep breath and smell the pixels. Rekindle that sense of ever present adventure! Or are we going to have to promote Ice to the chipper one that enjoys prancing in fields and cuddling with animals. For I don't think that really fits his style."
Genkai said
No worries, it was a good post to me. :3Just to reiterate, no one outside the Corrector group would be allowed to know of their job, it seemed a bit hazy in your post but if he just says his job is with the Gvn and nothing else, it should be cool. Just needed to double check there. Otherwise, glad to see a good post so soon~!
Oh yeah, I should be more clear about that. His government job was referring to helping amp up the security on the Rainbow Bridge, since that would fall under government constriction. My fault should of just been more clear about that. But thank you! You wordsmithy isn't too shabby yourself!
Well, that was a bit lengthier than I intended. But my odd little American Psycho "morning routine" inspired introductory post has been completed. Success!
As the melodic ringing of a concert carillon, hummed gently through the apartment, the lone occupant had already been awake for the ten minutes all according to routine as always. The alarm as it was kept out of regularity, the same procession it had been since Satoru was just a boy, it reminded him of the reasons he woke up in the morning. Soon his morning routine had begun and he went through his motions like an old Sensei going through his kata: methodically, with the actions being performed coming naturally and fluently as water runs down a stream. He walked a few paces from his bed over to the corner of his bedroom, were a heavy bag and speed bag were connected on a stand. He started off slow letting his whole body feel the impact of each punch and the resistance applied against it before he began to pick up pace.
Satoru was a man that believed in the essentially of routines. This was an ideal passed on to him by his father and his grandfather before him. This progress to the point where his father had told him a story of his great great great grandfather a man that severed The Imperial Japanese Army during the Second World War, that had everyday even when American G.I.s stormed the beaches, followed his routine of his morning prayer everyday. He was shot by a sniper during his ascent to the top of the hill where he would pray.. so in the end he was the perfect example of a Matsushita man that brought honor to his family; living and dying by his routine. Soon after he was done was the bags, he progressed into his crunches and push ups. This time taking about an hour of his time in the morning hours, before he either ended up going to work or the university.
But today was different He thought to himself as he arose from his floor and made his way towards his bathroom. His apartment was a small two room located small high tech development about five or so years old, three floors and generally consisting of wealthy salarymen and the occasional recluse, it was conveniently located about halfway between HQ and the University ,it was affordable and it catered to his minimalist appeal beside his bed, shower, common kitchen accommodates and a small television set there was nothing else. But Satoru was right today was different. Today he had plans to go to the small gathering Soshi-san had planned. Satoru had work to do with his final project looming ever closer, but he would make the sacrifice for his friends. They all had been bogged down lately by the influx of attacks, and a little chance for them to take a little breather would be good.
The young man sighed as he stripped out of his clothes now coated in a thin lining of sweat, as he did he spoke in the firm authoritative tone, one usually restricts use to that of talking to technology. "Play, The Way To Play, Evans, Bill, from the top please." He heard a small hum in recognition as the voice sensors built into the walls of his apartment recognized the command. Almost instantaneously the hum of twentieth century jazz, and the swing of a piano began. As he applied his deep facial cleanser, he thought about his winter break, a time he thought he could spend some time relaxing maybe catching up on the occasional book he meant to read but never got around to and the like, maybe go with his parents to Matsumoto to see his grandmother and the rest of his extended family. Of course though this was not the case, the devil doesn't sleep and neither does the hackers it would seem. His family didn't mind that much, even if that bothered him a little bit in itself. They knew that he had a busy job, doing some contracting job for the government so they knew that when duty called you answered it and asked it for whatever help it desires.
He got out of the shower 24 minutes later, and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked over to his mirror. He pressed his fingers against the mirror and interior LEDs glowed as the glass seemingly magically split into two close up views of either side of his face, so close one could see the follicles of each strand of early morning scruff. Taking the straight razor and the shaving cream, that he kept on the sink counter, he went to work. As he did he thought about the strangeness of it all, how in the few short handful of years he had been working as a Corrector it had already felt like an eternity. Watching everyday the world being so close to societal collapse and everyday catching it before it falls. The scary fact of it all being they only need to slip up once for Humpty Dumpty to fall off his wall. Everyday people died all over the world, just because a Corrector somewhere let something slip through the cracks, that person that dies could be another Corrector, a kid, a mother, father, somebody, anybody. But in the calculus of war, casualties are to be expected.
He finished up the bathroom freshly clean shaven, as he left the room the door slid shut behind him. As he pulled out his clothes to wear for the day, Bill Evans continued to play in the background. Jazz made sense to Satoru, it was at the heart moving along the same beat of the world. It moved along the rhythm of ordered chaos, and ordered chaos.. wasn't that the best way to describe life itself? He looked at his reflection, a young man dressed in a white tee-shirt with a black jacket over it, wearing a pair of dark colored jeans, and a worn in pair of running sneakers. Average and meant for practicability just as he liked it. He progressed into the living room/ kitchen/ entrance/ dining area/ what ever else you really wanted to cal it area. He walked over to the small marble counter, atop of it sat a small blender and next to it a large bowl of fruits. As he weighed a apple in one hand, he tapped something into the holographic display on the countertop, and the T.V across the room from him snapped to life.
As the T.V came on, the sounds of Bill Evans faded away automatically, as the morning news audio fed itself directly into Satoru's head. The same women, in the same casual business attire with the same red shade of lipstick, and her same co-anchor a middle age man with hints and streaks of grey in his hair, and the muscular build that was well highlighted through the tailoring of his suit. The women was talking about the recent announcement made by the Minister of Defense, stating for his continuing plans of modernizing the security of the Japanese people and their government to allow for greater protection in this new age of cyber terrorism.
Cyber terrorism, hackers. It seemed that these words and the whispers of threats that circle these enigmatic phantoms follow him wherever he seems to go. It was the common focus of governments worldwide, with internal struggles and international warfare being replaced with broken firewalls, and back door entrances. Evidently even so when that time came for Satoru to hang up his corrector identity and assume a normal life, these words would still end up haunting him. Even his final project to graduate from University, working with the Tokyo Metropolis Local Gov in updating the security camera feeds on Rainbow Bridge. Officially it's to ease pedestrian marking crash dedication, and suicide prevention systems. In reality it was to make the scanners more effective at finding illegal MChips and unmarked figures within the Gvn's database.He supposed it was a fact of life he was to just get used to, to keep the peace and to keep order, once must always be prepared. As he finished these thoughts he placed his selected fruits in the blender and began to let them pulse.
Sometime later it was time for Satoru, to leave to head to the gathering. He pressed a button on his phone and the lights in his apartment turned off and the window he had left cracked upon in the bathroom shut itself and then proceed to lock back into place. He nodded in approval and grabbed the bottle of whiskey he left in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and grabbed it before heading out the door. He went down three flights of stairs to the street below, and hooked up to a bike rack, lay hitched in just where he had left it the night before, untouched. As he approached the sensor within the locking mechanism sensed his phone and automatically unlocked its self. Satoru got onto the back and grabbed the small helmet attached to the rear of his seat, bringing it down onto his head, a small visor from hidden within clicked down over his eyes. Soon a wide array of information was being told to him: Compass direction, current location, heart rate, tire condition, proper seat elevation, the works. An indicator in the bottom right hand corner clicked on signalling that his phone had hooked up to the helmet automatically. He pressed a button on his phone and in moments directions following the quickest route to Soshi's apartment was plotted, a small thing green line appearing on the road in front of him. He kicked up his kick stand and began peddling and he was off.
Some time later, he arrived at the large tower like apartment complex that Soshi's apartment lay within. He parked his bike outside on another almost identical looking bike stand from the one outside his apartment, the steel lock closing in as soon as the rider put it into place. He ran his head through his hair now coated in a faint shining of mist as he walked up to the entrance to the complex. He pressed his phone against the small scanner and a small chirp of approval was heard as the doors opened, the scanner reading Soshi's codes that he programmed into his phone. He walked across the lobby his damp footsteps echoing across the empty space, the only other occupant being the doorman lounging in his chair at one end of the lobby, his phone in his hands not even bothering to look up at Satoru. Satoru walked up to the elevator hit the call button and waited until he heard a hum as the elevator reached the ground floor and its doors open. Two well dressed salarymen in polite conversation with one another walked out as Satoru entered the elevator.
He pressed the button for the sixtieth floor and waited as it slowly began to rise. One side of the elevator was made of glass and one could if they choose look out onto the city of Tokyo below as they ascended into the heavens. It was all a little too posh and extravagant for Satoru's taste, and he felt almost out of place in his standard street clothes holding a plastic liquor store bag with a bottle of the strongest cheap american whiskey he could get his hands on. He was like a rat entering the kitchen of a five star restaurant. Though this rat could not argue with one thing and that was that Soshi's place had one hell of a view. He waited stepping from one foot to another, occasionally checking down at his phone as the elevator made its ascent slowly up the last twenty stories. The city of Tokyo now a grey mist of light and activity far below. The doors opened and he made his way through the halls towards Soshi's apartment, once again lifting his phone up, to allow the door to open for him.
And within thirty seconds of him getting into the Apartment and halfway through his hello, he was seemingly attacked by a very hyper active 24 year old, who ever though she was three years older than him, he still felt like he was dealing with a younger sister or cousin at times. He took the embrace as best as he could, not letting the whiskey bottle drop out of his hands. He smiled and shook his head with a short chuckle as Mima declared that she had brought cookies.
"Well Mima, I alas sadly did not bring cookies.Though I suppose you could say I brought something to satisfying a different kind of sweet tooth." He explained shaking the contents of the bottle as he step further into the apartment, and peered into the room towards were Soshi was sitting down on one of his couches, he moved towards the couches, sitting down and passing his party favor over with a smile.
"It would seem, that Mima has beat me here, and won the early bird catches the worm award. And how are you today Mr. Everything the light touches is Soshi's kingdom? On this gloomy day?"
Satoru was a man that believed in the essentially of routines. This was an ideal passed on to him by his father and his grandfather before him. This progress to the point where his father had told him a story of his great great great grandfather a man that severed The Imperial Japanese Army during the Second World War, that had everyday even when American G.I.s stormed the beaches, followed his routine of his morning prayer everyday. He was shot by a sniper during his ascent to the top of the hill where he would pray.. so in the end he was the perfect example of a Matsushita man that brought honor to his family; living and dying by his routine. Soon after he was done was the bags, he progressed into his crunches and push ups. This time taking about an hour of his time in the morning hours, before he either ended up going to work or the university.
But today was different He thought to himself as he arose from his floor and made his way towards his bathroom. His apartment was a small two room located small high tech development about five or so years old, three floors and generally consisting of wealthy salarymen and the occasional recluse, it was conveniently located about halfway between HQ and the University ,it was affordable and it catered to his minimalist appeal beside his bed, shower, common kitchen accommodates and a small television set there was nothing else. But Satoru was right today was different. Today he had plans to go to the small gathering Soshi-san had planned. Satoru had work to do with his final project looming ever closer, but he would make the sacrifice for his friends. They all had been bogged down lately by the influx of attacks, and a little chance for them to take a little breather would be good.
The young man sighed as he stripped out of his clothes now coated in a thin lining of sweat, as he did he spoke in the firm authoritative tone, one usually restricts use to that of talking to technology. "Play, The Way To Play, Evans, Bill, from the top please." He heard a small hum in recognition as the voice sensors built into the walls of his apartment recognized the command. Almost instantaneously the hum of twentieth century jazz, and the swing of a piano began. As he applied his deep facial cleanser, he thought about his winter break, a time he thought he could spend some time relaxing maybe catching up on the occasional book he meant to read but never got around to and the like, maybe go with his parents to Matsumoto to see his grandmother and the rest of his extended family. Of course though this was not the case, the devil doesn't sleep and neither does the hackers it would seem. His family didn't mind that much, even if that bothered him a little bit in itself. They knew that he had a busy job, doing some contracting job for the government so they knew that when duty called you answered it and asked it for whatever help it desires.
He got out of the shower 24 minutes later, and wrapped a towel around his waist as he walked over to his mirror. He pressed his fingers against the mirror and interior LEDs glowed as the glass seemingly magically split into two close up views of either side of his face, so close one could see the follicles of each strand of early morning scruff. Taking the straight razor and the shaving cream, that he kept on the sink counter, he went to work. As he did he thought about the strangeness of it all, how in the few short handful of years he had been working as a Corrector it had already felt like an eternity. Watching everyday the world being so close to societal collapse and everyday catching it before it falls. The scary fact of it all being they only need to slip up once for Humpty Dumpty to fall off his wall. Everyday people died all over the world, just because a Corrector somewhere let something slip through the cracks, that person that dies could be another Corrector, a kid, a mother, father, somebody, anybody. But in the calculus of war, casualties are to be expected.
He finished up the bathroom freshly clean shaven, as he left the room the door slid shut behind him. As he pulled out his clothes to wear for the day, Bill Evans continued to play in the background. Jazz made sense to Satoru, it was at the heart moving along the same beat of the world. It moved along the rhythm of ordered chaos, and ordered chaos.. wasn't that the best way to describe life itself? He looked at his reflection, a young man dressed in a white tee-shirt with a black jacket over it, wearing a pair of dark colored jeans, and a worn in pair of running sneakers. Average and meant for practicability just as he liked it. He progressed into the living room/ kitchen/ entrance/ dining area/ what ever else you really wanted to cal it area. He walked over to the small marble counter, atop of it sat a small blender and next to it a large bowl of fruits. As he weighed a apple in one hand, he tapped something into the holographic display on the countertop, and the T.V across the room from him snapped to life.
As the T.V came on, the sounds of Bill Evans faded away automatically, as the morning news audio fed itself directly into Satoru's head. The same women, in the same casual business attire with the same red shade of lipstick, and her same co-anchor a middle age man with hints and streaks of grey in his hair, and the muscular build that was well highlighted through the tailoring of his suit. The women was talking about the recent announcement made by the Minister of Defense, stating for his continuing plans of modernizing the security of the Japanese people and their government to allow for greater protection in this new age of cyber terrorism.
Cyber terrorism, hackers. It seemed that these words and the whispers of threats that circle these enigmatic phantoms follow him wherever he seems to go. It was the common focus of governments worldwide, with internal struggles and international warfare being replaced with broken firewalls, and back door entrances. Evidently even so when that time came for Satoru to hang up his corrector identity and assume a normal life, these words would still end up haunting him. Even his final project to graduate from University, working with the Tokyo Metropolis Local Gov in updating the security camera feeds on Rainbow Bridge. Officially it's to ease pedestrian marking crash dedication, and suicide prevention systems. In reality it was to make the scanners more effective at finding illegal MChips and unmarked figures within the Gvn's database.He supposed it was a fact of life he was to just get used to, to keep the peace and to keep order, once must always be prepared. As he finished these thoughts he placed his selected fruits in the blender and began to let them pulse.
Sometime later it was time for Satoru, to leave to head to the gathering. He pressed a button on his phone and the lights in his apartment turned off and the window he had left cracked upon in the bathroom shut itself and then proceed to lock back into place. He nodded in approval and grabbed the bottle of whiskey he left in a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and grabbed it before heading out the door. He went down three flights of stairs to the street below, and hooked up to a bike rack, lay hitched in just where he had left it the night before, untouched. As he approached the sensor within the locking mechanism sensed his phone and automatically unlocked its self. Satoru got onto the back and grabbed the small helmet attached to the rear of his seat, bringing it down onto his head, a small visor from hidden within clicked down over his eyes. Soon a wide array of information was being told to him: Compass direction, current location, heart rate, tire condition, proper seat elevation, the works. An indicator in the bottom right hand corner clicked on signalling that his phone had hooked up to the helmet automatically. He pressed a button on his phone and in moments directions following the quickest route to Soshi's apartment was plotted, a small thing green line appearing on the road in front of him. He kicked up his kick stand and began peddling and he was off.
Some time later, he arrived at the large tower like apartment complex that Soshi's apartment lay within. He parked his bike outside on another almost identical looking bike stand from the one outside his apartment, the steel lock closing in as soon as the rider put it into place. He ran his head through his hair now coated in a faint shining of mist as he walked up to the entrance to the complex. He pressed his phone against the small scanner and a small chirp of approval was heard as the doors opened, the scanner reading Soshi's codes that he programmed into his phone. He walked across the lobby his damp footsteps echoing across the empty space, the only other occupant being the doorman lounging in his chair at one end of the lobby, his phone in his hands not even bothering to look up at Satoru. Satoru walked up to the elevator hit the call button and waited until he heard a hum as the elevator reached the ground floor and its doors open. Two well dressed salarymen in polite conversation with one another walked out as Satoru entered the elevator.
He pressed the button for the sixtieth floor and waited as it slowly began to rise. One side of the elevator was made of glass and one could if they choose look out onto the city of Tokyo below as they ascended into the heavens. It was all a little too posh and extravagant for Satoru's taste, and he felt almost out of place in his standard street clothes holding a plastic liquor store bag with a bottle of the strongest cheap american whiskey he could get his hands on. He was like a rat entering the kitchen of a five star restaurant. Though this rat could not argue with one thing and that was that Soshi's place had one hell of a view. He waited stepping from one foot to another, occasionally checking down at his phone as the elevator made its ascent slowly up the last twenty stories. The city of Tokyo now a grey mist of light and activity far below. The doors opened and he made his way through the halls towards Soshi's apartment, once again lifting his phone up, to allow the door to open for him.
And within thirty seconds of him getting into the Apartment and halfway through his hello, he was seemingly attacked by a very hyper active 24 year old, who ever though she was three years older than him, he still felt like he was dealing with a younger sister or cousin at times. He took the embrace as best as he could, not letting the whiskey bottle drop out of his hands. He smiled and shook his head with a short chuckle as Mima declared that she had brought cookies.
"Well Mima, I alas sadly did not bring cookies.Though I suppose you could say I brought something to satisfying a different kind of sweet tooth." He explained shaking the contents of the bottle as he step further into the apartment, and peered into the room towards were Soshi was sitting down on one of his couches, he moved towards the couches, sitting down and passing his party favor over with a smile.
"It would seem, that Mima has beat me here, and won the early bird catches the worm award. And how are you today Mr. Everything the light touches is Soshi's kingdom? On this gloomy day?"
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