Resemble (Random)

9:00 in the morning, why the hell did she ask for me to come out here? I'm still shaken up from yesterday and she wants to talk.  She's late too.  Not even a message saying "I'll be there soon".

"Did you wait long?" I turned around, she stood there with a distraught look on her face.  I shouldn't be mad at her.  I should've known, somehow.  Resembles look like the real thing, feel like the real thing.

"N-no, just a few minutes" I said.  She diverted her eyes, her glance directed mine towards her now fixed Resemble.  I still saw a ragged mess of wire and metal that was left of her arm from just yesterday

"Can I sit down?" I was taking up most of the bench, I moved over and she sat next to me.  Her Resemble side away from me.

"What did you want to talk about" I said, gambling that she wouldn't get upset with me.  She didn't look at me, instead she rested her head on my shoulder.  I rested my arm on the back of the park bench, best if I didn't touch her on that side.

"Take a guess"

"You have Resemble" I said.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"I heard on the news"

"I don't care what the news says, I asked for your opinion" she got tense.

"I... don't know for certain" I said, unsure of what to say.

"Is it so bad that we make ourselves this way? Should we be looked down on for our decision?" She looked up at me, I could tell now.  Resemble was in her eyes as well, twisting and focusing on me like two little cameras.

"Without this I would be different, very different.  Like laying lifeless in my room, thinking of how that accident destroyed my life kind of different.  We would've never met if it wasn't for Resemble" She said, the end emphasized and her Resemble hand held to me.

"So you could never have lived again if it weren't for this?" I said.

"Does that make me a weak person then? That I have to lean on science to make living worthwhile?  If I didn't have this yesterday, I would be dead right now.  I would have died saving you" Her voice got loud and she leaned away from me.

"Say I didn't have Resemble, I would have either been dead or been given Resemble to save my life.  I could lie on the ground where I landed, bleeding to death.  Or a hospital bed dying.  How would you feel if that were the case? So what I have Resemble, is it that big a deal?" She put her hand over mine looking me dead in the eyes.

People with Resemble have it because they want to look normal again, to feel normal again..They don't want to walk down the street having people look at them.  Watch them live from wheelchairs or with missing limbs or eye patches or even speech impediments.  Resemble fixes all that.  If I had met her without them would I feel the same way about her? I hadn't said anything, her eyes started to well up with tears.

"Well!?" she said, pressing the question.

"How would you feel knowing that I put myself in harms way to protect you, knowing you could've been be hurt or killed?" She clenched my hand tight, trembling.

"It should have been me!  To think that you would do something like that for me, of all people.  I'm not worth your time or effort for saving" My voice cracked just a little "I thought you were dead on impact, I heard your body crumble and your arm spiral away" My chest collapsed, It felt like metric tons were weighing on my shoulders.  I trembled along with her.

"I started thinking of why I asked you out, who was I to take that opportunity away from someone better suited for you.  If I had kept my mouth shut you would still be in one piece right now, with someone better than me.  I'm such a selfish fuck!" My breathing became short and rapid, face was hot and my palms drenched in sweat, thousands of thoughts and feelings had broken through me like a blown out river dam.

"You're such a thoughtless asshole!" she said "Didn't ever cross your mind why I might do something like that for you because I wanted to?" I couldn't be possible.  Someone like her feeling that way about me? Nobody has ever felt that way about me, and I'm supposed to just believe it now? She still held my hand, though instead of being tight and assertive.  It was kind, gentle.  Appealing even.

I've never felt this before in my entire life.  What do I do? Will she say what I think she's gonna say? Is that even possible? As far as I was concerned the possibility of this moment ever happening died in me a long time ago.  What about me?  Do I even have it in me to think about someone else like that? asking her out in the first place was an accident, I didn't even think she would accept like she did.  Surprised and excited.  Is the ability to feel like that even in my DNA?  This can't be real, this can't be real, this can't.

Be real.

Combat academy Part 1 (*Random)

Combining robots, I wish something like that were possible. A collection of various vehicles forming around a single robot to create an even bigger robot.  The unfortunate truth of the matter is that its just not practical.  Weight/balance/mobility are key to a machines assets. I would know, as a pilot in training that these elements can make a difference between victory and defeat.

What, am I reciting stuff for an exam or something? I'm already late to class, Its my first day even. Not so much for a first impression, unless my impression is 'fashionably late' which its not.  At least the academy is in view now.

I park my truck and shuffle down the white and silver hallway to my first class 'close quarters combat' I open the door and like a tidal wave every head in class is staring at me.

"You're late, Mr..." The teacher said, somewhat upset.

"Wheeler, Marcus. I'm sorry for being tardy sir"

"Just shut it and take a seat" he said.  I found an empty chair close to the window, the girl next to me had the same blue and red BDU on as I did, which meant she was in the armored division.  She had long black hair with a green tint to it tied into a low ponytail. I also couldn't help but notice her whole left arm was wrapped in bandages, not a single bit of skin was showing.  Whatever, I need to focus.

Class ended soon after I sat down, the girl next to me looked at me like I had done something impressive.

"You've got guts walking into his class lake like that, he likes to douche on everyone who disrupts class" She said.

"Its not like I did it on purpose, didn't get into town till four last night.  Doesn't leave much time for sleep" I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"So where were you shipped in from? Desert, Forrest?" We in the combat don't like to name names so we keep things simple.

"Tundra actually" I said.

"Is that so? how's the heat and humidity getting to you here?" She pulled at her uniform, the humid air made everything a little damp.

"Honestly, I'm liking it" It wasn't a complete truth but I couldn't go back on it now.

"Can't say the feeling is mutual. I'm Vela by the way, Vela Maxwell" She gestured to the girl in front of her, she was wearing a tan and black BDU, Ninja division.

"This is my friend **Whisper, ND" Whisper waved at me. She had dark brown hair and red eyes, though to be fair, everyone in ND had red eyes, and none of them went by their real names. Whisper didn't come off as a ninja, she was rather small and seemed like she would have a better chance of being in the Communications division.

"So what's your next class Marcus? Field testing?" It was in fact, I would feel better if she had that class too. "I do actually" I said. "Then we'll go together" While she was nice it seemed strange, almost a little too nice. Our division, while peaceful among'st ourselves we often get heated in the field, A little more than 'friendly competition' and I still don't know what the deal is with her arm.  I keep my guard up while we walk and Whisper disappears some point while we're chatting.

We get outside and I find I don't like the humidity all that much, while better than 60 below 0 its still very uncomfortable, at least I stayed dry in the Tundra.  We enter the abnormal vehicle hangar.  If things went as they should've my mech should be here.  We approach a desk where terminals are placed. I enter my student ID.

"Hangar 35" I said, thinking out loud."

"I'm in 30" Vela said. We hop in a shuttle and move down the aisles. While most of the doors were shut, I did get a glimpse of a few of the abnormal vehicles.  Not too many mechs from what I could see, the ones I did get a look at weren't much too impressive. Vela stops in front of her hangar, the doors closed.

"See you on the playing field" she said, leaving the shuttle. I watch her until she out of sight. I see her reach for her bandaged arm before she's gone.  I stop in front of 35 and enter.  I'm relieved to find my GGX13 waiting for me. I had it repainted before it arrived, its signature dark green and black. I liked to call him The Highwayman.  It sounds better than the model name.  While not too much too look at on the outside, its innards are what makes it stand out.

*While random now, it might become a new series. Just saying.
**Name subject to change (If I deem necessary)
BDU (Battle dress uniform) color determines division

White Russian (Random)

Another day, another drink on this mahogany bar I've grown so used to.  The same scratch marks, the same glasses, hell even the teasing percussion on the back of my ears felt familiar from times past.  I'm sure if I had given it my audience I would have found it to be unrecognized.

I lifted my glass and finished the first drink of the night, my beloved white russian.  I gestured the bartender who gave me his nod, the same one he's given me since my first night here.  Seems like centuries since then.  "Another white russian please" his nod I'd grown so fond of gave segue to the birth of my next glass of the night.  Vodka and coffee liqueur danced together in a spiral towards the stage of shimmering glass, flowing with the grace that is appreciated by so few as it settled around the seats of ice.  Curtain call came with the cream, a billowing conclusion to my drink of choice.  The bartender settled the drink and placed his signature nod.  I drew the glass in, admiring the scent.

I felt so at peace in this moment, the constant pace of work gave little retreat into moments like this, it would be safer to say it was void of any silent happiness to the core.  The constant rearranging of rare, exotic machinery across the country was no easy task.

Enough of that, I'm in my world now.  Here to stay as long as I need.

"So, come here often?" I heard from behind me, a smooth and majestic query settled in the seat beside me, almost as if it were a light gust flowing by.  I looked, a slight turn of the head presented a figure of which I have never seen in person.  My attention ensnared I took a full view of the intensity that has taken interest in me.  Pearl skin wrapped in a silk of red I couldn't take my eyes off.  The one thing that was more breathtaking than the deep red were the eyes.  Eyes of glistening amethyst  framed in locks darker than the grim reapers cloak.  She was unlike anything I've ever seen before, I found it hard to even think that her upward inflected statement was directed at me, if her sight wasn't latched onto me I would have never answered her.

"Often? sometimes it feels like I never leave" after I said it, I wished I hadn't.  What a stupid thing to say.

"That sounds nice" velvet letters across my ears.  Did I say something right?

"It seems like I'm burdened to never see the same faces, feel the same familiar scratches in the bar.  The glasses, the crystal on the shelves.  I envy that" her fingernail played at the scars in the mahogany, scars I was familiar with.  Memory's prodded at the back of my mind.

"So, what are you having this go'round?" She gestured at my drink with a finger.  What did I get? How stupid am I.  Getting so lost like that, I must have looked ridiculous.  I made slow retreat to a more proper, upright posture.

"White russian, my usual" A smile sailed around her porcelain skin.  She leaned in, showing her interest.

"My personal favorite" her fingers interlaced "My personal sanctuary in a world of noise" She snapped her fingers, the bartender nodded.

"A white russian please, and put his on my check if you would" The bartender nodded, did she just pay for my drink? Confusion started to make root.  I'm nobody, a regular, a head in the clouds.  Yet, somehow this, which is something that could very well be from my wildest dreams is conversing with me.  I feel frustration blooming.

Am I dreaming? Or could it be that I've dipped into a dementia like state? I feel numb, but a wave of warmth overwhelms the back of my hand.  She touched me, her thumb massaging my knuckles, one after another.  She smiled at me.  A smile so comforting, so welcoming I couldn't help but crack a smile of my own. A genuine smile, not the kind I masquerade with.  She brought her drink up to view.

"A toast, to the drink of peace and solitude in a world of ambient noise and distraction" A toast.  Well, if this is in fact a dream or a joyful moment of dementia, I have no reason not to indulge in it.  I raise my glass, give it a gentle knock against hers, and we trade another smile.  Bigger than the last.

I feel again, the faded shirt on my back, the weight of the coat behind it.  The percussion teased my ears again, the radiating warmth of her hand still holding mine.  The pulsating healing warmth drew me out of the near dead state I had occupied for years now, a state of cynicism and reality I had grown used to seemed further away for a moment.

Please, stop time.  Even just for this moment.