The Horizon Cometh: Zero... Vignette Two
Johan Webber walks in to his center of operations, a colossal library within a privet dome connected to Syncline HQ, 20 miles from the nearest Martian town. He carried no surprise regarding the subtle change in décor, located in the print-machine room, right in front of the monitor. In fact, he was expecting to see the briefcase that the night crew kindly slipped in.
Sitting down to prepare for his days work, he rolled the secret tag to read the orange text, practiced enough to read through it as though it were his native language. Satisfied from what he read, Mr. Webber rubbed the temporary ink off with his thumb, and reached in a cabinet for the key, small and primitive, to collect the contents inside. Inside lay a common notebook, with German writings that were clearly rushed, but legible. Using the notes as reference, he typed away into the centennial device, whose only function was quite insignificant; to print books.
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After saving the document and changing it's access password, Mr. Webber shredded the notebook whole, preparing it for the incinerator. He printed a single copy. The minimalist cover carried the title “Collective Findings: The Condition”. Afterward, he placed a new, empty notebook and locked the briefcase. He grabbed a blue marker to update the tag.
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The Horizon Cometh: Zero... Chapter One
June, 2207
A poorly maintained bar in a small town neighboring Nikko, Japan. Hal Erikson, frustrated and tired, enters in an attempt to find some recreation after searching for the countries great martial artists to expand upon his European-based knowledge. His journey came to a quick ending after being shown the ancient, mystical art of flashy costumes and no refunds. He orders whatever is the strongest, and waits for his wasted time to come back to him.
The local band plays on a small stage, surrounded by a compact crowd. The energy, concentrated in the small area, leads to physical carelessness. Crumbling out of the mosh, Katsuo collects herself, with the expression of a small child being juggled by her father. She wobbles to the counter, requesting only water. The stool she picks stands right next to Hal, who only recently takes a fascination to the scene behind him.
“What happened to you?” Hal spotted a couple bruises among the young woman's sweat.
“My god, the people here are crazy,” she answered, clearly without complaint, “there must be some sort of airborne drug or something, this town is just one big maniac! One guy, back their, in the dressy, formal looking shirt that's not buttoned, well his idea...”
Hal just took a big drink through the story, having lost concern for her after hearing her reaction. Typically not trying to be so anti-social in these situations, Hal struggled to keep up with the girls fast mouth, speaking a language he barely spoke.
“So, why have you gotten here?” Kat asked.
“I've been put into a goose chase for so long I no longer have the desire to see straight.” His voice cracked at the low volume he spoke. Hal didn't feel like conversing with strangers, his only worry being the wait of his bottle, of which he needed another which he needed another.
“Right, a tourist with a brain is never a good thing.”
Hal assumed she meant “never happy”, maybe replacing one word with another with how odd her language seemed. Of course, this is the first place he'd gone to since giving up on the “tourist friendly” area's.
From behind stumbled a raging drunk. He dropped himself onto the counter without care for whatever his arms flailed off, Katsuo sighed and considered the likely hood of using reason to calm him down, and Hal signaled for the waiter to bring him another drink.
“I don't care how you did it,” the drunk squealed, “I know you didn't do...di...done cheated, give me back my money.”
“Is that you're reaction to everyone you lose to?” she replied, still not sure how that would help her.
“I counted the cards, everyone knows that each color has only two of the picture-guy ones, and I had, like... three, at least. Where'd you're fifth one come from?”
Kat was almost chuckling to herself until the man until he started check inside her sleeveless sweater for secret pockets. Her resistance prompted him to attempt to lift her up to intimidate her. As he grabbed her shoulders, clumsiness got the better of him, and Kat got thrown over the bar landing with a sudden CRASH.
The drunk took a step back in realization of what he'd just caused. The music halted abruptly, the bartender tried to hide his frightened expression, and the other patrons looked on, not needing to say a single word to show their judgment. The drunk thought desperately to find a cover up, spotting the man she'd spoken to earlier, in his own little world with his liqueur-filled companion. Thinking he can somehow paint a better picture through bravery, he pulled his switchblade from out of his pocket slumped back down to the counter, his arms sliding every which way once again. To Hal's horror, one of the drunks arms knocked the freshly opened bottle out of his hand, falling to the other side of the counter, landing almost completely empty.
Hal raised from his seat, fighting the urge to crush the foolish man's skull on the spot, all the while being accused of being an accomplice whose only motive was to get in someones pants. As the drunks rant escalated, Hal slowly shifted his gaze, rotating his head from the now bottle-less counter top to make eye contact. His scowl sucked the confidence out of the drunk, his rant dictated by the oncoming stare of an orc banging against the walls that imprisoned it inside his human body. Finally, Hal was looking down, straight at the fool, like freight train glaring at the end of the tunnel.
“I don't know who you are,” he argued without feeling the need to raise his voice, “and you don't know who I am. Maybe we should introduce ourselves. We can settle this like gentlemen, right...RIGHT?”
The drunk shook his head, already watering in the eyes.
“Right... I am Hal Erikson, and I'm not exactly a local. Now, where I come from, if you carry a weapon, it's because you know how to use it,” Hal moved the right side of his jacket, revealing a handle protruding from his belt. “and if you present to someone said weapon, then you intend to use it,” Hal grabbed the handle and pulled on it, revealing a large kukri which Hal made sure was in plain sight of the drunk. “but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and give you a second chance. Just introduce yourself, like a gentleman.”
“D-Daisuke.” he answered.
Hal's face changed slightly to that of satisfaction. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Daisuke.” He sheathed his knife, despite Daisuke still tightly gripping his. This did not worry Hal. “It seems that, in your little tantrum, you've spilled my drink. If you don't mind, I think it'd only be fair that you rectify your mistake by getting me another.”
Daisuke fumbled in his right pocket with his left hand, grabbing a wad of bills and handing it to the bartender, who'd already had a bottle ready. Hal eagerly grabbed it, opened it and drank from his offering, remembering what had gotten in this situation to begin with.
“That girl took quite the tumble when you spoke with her,” Hal explained, only slightly concerned, “you should probably help her up.”
Daisuke hesitated, a bit of anger appearing within his fear. Looking over the bar, he was meet a smirk as Katsuo sat in the other end, relishing every moment of his humiliation as she held her hand to him.
“Go on now,” said Hal, “you are a gentleman, aren't you?”
Daisuke cringed at the sound of Hal's voice, and then found the motivation to assist Kat back up. He pulled her arm, hoping that this would be the end of it all, and Kat threw herself back over the counter and on the ground again.
“Oops,” Hal chuckled, entertained, “try again.”
Daisuke looked back in disbelief. When he looked up at the now smiling man, he suddenly got a surge of the rage he felt before. His fear left for sure when he remembered a fatal detail; he never but his knife away. Twisting his lips into a determent grin, and riled himself up with a booming yell, and thrust his hand forward.
The contact to Hal's torso caught him way of guard. He looked down, almost offended by Daisuke's attack, and observed what damage had been done. Hal made note of his bone dry shirt, and Daisuke opened his empty fist, just as Katsuo tossed the switchblade across the floor, removing any connection between her and it.
Hal set his bottle on the bar, and took a deep, growling breath. “Maybe we should take this outside...”
Daisuke flew out the window, preceding an up-roaring cheer from the audience. Hal walked out the front door, bottle in hand, slightly disappointed in himself. Half of Daisuke's body hit the frame of the window. The liqueur must have screwed with his aim.
“Is he gonna make it, doc?” Kat said mockingly, inspecting the damage done to the window.
“Not if he get's an infection, he won't.” replied Hal, pouring his drink upon Daisuke's body as he fumbles to his feet, limping through the street in a pathetic flee.
“You left your knife here!” Kat yelled back, leaning out the front door. Hal took in another drink, enjoying the fresh air. “Katsuo.”
“I'm sorry?” Hal asked.
“My name is Katsuo”
Hal nodded his head, giving a handshake as he looked down the street, noticing the sirens. “I hope ambulances here come with dry pants.” he commented.
Kat just looked on, arriving to a worrying realization, grabbing her key magnet.
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“What?” Hal noticed the change in her face.
“It's just...that guy's...” her face twitched a nervice grin, “Follow me!” She ran to her car, barely waiting for Hal.
“Is there something I'm missing right now?” Hal asked, making a b-line in Kat's direction.
“You can get mad at me later, just GET IN!”
Was going to make a bigger post with more events, but this one got long enough.