Post by Alex Tamora on May 8, 2017 19:02:11 GMT -5
I did my best not to scream with excitement after I picked up the keys from the landlord. After almost two months of sleeping in an abandoned warehouse on what could generously be called survival gear, the prospect of four solid walls and a roof that didn't leak was almost more than I could take. I didn't own a proper sleeping unit yet so I'd still be camped out with my survival gear a little while longer, but I was one step closer to not living as a vagabond. It was all so exciting!
"This domicile seems structurally unsound."
I shrugged, "Well I admit, it's not up to the standards of what you're used to Quincy, but I'm sure it meets all the building codes and requirements for this time. Besides, if I had to spend another week, no, another day in that warehouse I was going to go crazy. We'll be fine here."
I walked through the apartment, listening to the old hardwood floors creak beneath my boots.
"Is it supposed to make that sound?"
"Yes, Quincy, it's supposed to make that sound. It's an old building; old buildings have that kind of character?"
I wasn't about to let an overly analytical Quantum Neural Computer ruin this moment for me. A place like this had been among the staples of my childhood dreams along with wrestling. Everything in the future is neat, clean, and orderly. Everything was sterile and had a purpose and what's worse, nearly everyone liked it that way. There was no vibrancy, no artistry, there was no life.
The twenty first had its problems like war, global warming, and a frightening rise of nationalist populist leaders that were going to lead the world into some very dark times. But right here, right now, there was so much to take in. Before my ship crashed, I'd intended it to be a day trip. Pop back to the twenty first, watch PCW put on their Mass Destruction super show, and leave. I'd be gone several hours, maybe a day, in this time period but due to some kind of shenanigans involving the laws of physics, I think, time moved slower the further back you went. If I'd been gone twenty four hours in this time I'd have been gone and back in the literal blink of an eye.
Instead I was well into my second month, somewhere between five minutes and five hours back home. I could have asked Quincy, he'd know the time conversions. It had been a wild two months though. I'd gone from a time displaced fan to actually getting hired by PCW to competing in the quarterfinals of one of the grandest wrestling tournaments in history. I was surrounded by people I'd grown up idolizing and I was loving every second of it.
I continued my private tour of my new home, loving everything about it. I loved the creaky radiator in the living room, the stains on the wall in the hallways; I even loved watching the motes of dust float lazily through the afternoon sun. My nose began to twitch, okay, maybe not the dust.
The rest of my tour took me all of two minutes, but that's what you get with a one bedroom apartment. Standing in the emptiness I felt my heart start to beat a little faster. I was surrounded by nothing, just like in the time void. My breathing became more rapid, shallow. It felt like the empty space was closing around me.
I don't remember leaving the apartment. One minute I was in my new home and the next walking down the street. I don't remember going shopping for anything either, but the bags in my hands said otherwise. I forced myself to stop and look in the bags. Clothes, apparently in the middle of a panic attack I had decided I needed more clothes. It made sense logically, I had no idea how long I was going to be here so I might as well try and fit in a little more.
I closed the bags and looked around, realizing that I had a bigger problem. I had no idea where I was.
"Quincy, where am I?" I whispered so as not to draw attention.
"You are currently traveling north along Augusta Street, approximately one point eight kilometers from your residence."
A little over a mile then; not very far. I breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay, Quincy, guide me home."
A wireframe overlay settled over my field of vision, giving everything a cubed look before it faded and left a blue line that glowed slightly. With a somewhat invasive AI in your brain you were never lost. It wasn't going to take much time to get home, but after my little fugue episode I wanted to stop and take stock of everything, make sure everything was still running correctly.
"Quincy, can you initiate base diagnostics and make sure my augments haven't fried my brain or anything like that?"
"Initiating base diagnostic now, stand by."
There wasn't anything I could really do if one of my augments did fail but knowing would hopefully give me some peace of mind. I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, but it didn't hurt to check. Somewhere around the sixty percent mark of the scan I found myself in front of a quaint little electronics store, the kind with televisions in the windows. The nightly news feed was playing clips from an interview they'd done earlier in the day with Hiroshi Yukio. There was no volume, partly due to the fact that they were behind glass and mostly due to the fact that they were on mute.
Seeing the gregarious sumo gave me pause. The official card hadn't been released yet, but I knew he was going to be my next challenge. How did I know? Because they'd just finished up the second week of round one matches for the tournament. That meant round two, which only had eight of the original sixteen competitors would be the next step. They'd shown everyone the brackets; in fact they had a large display that updated after every match. So it was a foregone conclusion that I'd be facing Yukio next.
He was going to be my largest challenge to date, and not just because of his size. Which was, let’s face it, damn intimidating. At six foot six and five hundred pounds, he held a half foot and a three hundred pound weight advantage over me. I was fairly certain that with my augments at their current level I couldn't overpower him. No, not fairly certain. I was certain. I didn't want to rely on my augmentations to win, that was tantamount to cheating and I wouldn't stoop to that level. Still, it couldn't hurt to bump them up just a little so that I wasn't absolutely destroyed, was it?
Hiroshi was a dominant force in the ring. The fact that he'd gone undefeated in the four matches he'd had since he's reemerged in mid-February proved that. He'd faced former champions, prize fighters, and a large white lizard man and had emerged victorious each time. I knew that if I wasn't careful I'd be the next person getting destroyed. Well maybe not destroyed. Hiroshi was a paradox, a veritable gentle giant when he wanted to be. He'd avoided cheap and easy wins in his past matches, even going so far as to help one opponent back into the ring and dust him off.
I knew that were I so inclined I could use these aspects of his personality to win. It wasn't cheating, but it still wasn't how I wanted to win.
"If you can't win honestly, what's the point?" I mused.
SAM and Lunatic had certainly challenged me in ways that I hadn't expected but at no time did I ever feel like the match was out of control. Conversely I wondered if Hiroshi felt the same way. His list of opponents was no doubt impressive, but did he feel like he was challenged? As big as he was who could realistically challenge him in terms of size and strength; I struggled to think of anyone past, present, or future that would ever match his impressive magnitude. It certainly explained why he was one of the favorites to win the tournament this year.
This was his first foray into the Icemann Invitational, but not his first experience with big matches in PCW. I remembered watching recordings of the Deadly Rumble match from two years ago. He'd been cut down by Billy Sadistic before he really had a chance to get going but I didn't have any doubt that the match would have unfolded very differently had Sadistic not gotten involved.
I don't remember getting home only this time it wasn't because of a black out. I put my newest acquisitions in the bedroom closet and made a mental note to look into buying actual furniture for my apartment.
"I have finished the basic diagnostic as you requested, Alexandra,” Quincy materialized in my field of vision.
"And how's it look, Doc?"
"Your augmentations appear to be functioning properly, albeit at much lower capacity than they were ever intended. I did document a spike in your noradrenaline and cortisol levels as well as unusual activity in your amygdala prior to you vacating the domicile."
I nodded in response and chalked it up to stress; it was hard being stuck in the past. Most likely it was a one and done event so I wouldn't spend much time worrying about it. If it happened again I'd give it another look.
I finished hanging up my new clothes before heading out again, this time I was heading back to the ship. The diagnostic had come back clean but I still wanted to see about bumping up my the efficiency of my other augments just a tad. I'd leave anything that affected my physical strength alone but I wanted to make sure that those that affected my endocrine and nervous system had a little more power.
I made my way into the dilapidated warehouse and made another mental note. This time it was a reminder to look for something a bit less apocalyptic to keep my ship. I pulled back the stained drop cloth that I used to cover it and took my place in the cockpit. I tried not to flinch (and failed) when I accessed my data port.
I was about to slide the data spike into my port when I heard cans clatter loudly to the ground. I pulled myself out of the cockpit just in time to watch a shadow run through the open doorway. Someone had seen me, even worse they had seen my ship.
"This domicile seems structurally unsound."
I shrugged, "Well I admit, it's not up to the standards of what you're used to Quincy, but I'm sure it meets all the building codes and requirements for this time. Besides, if I had to spend another week, no, another day in that warehouse I was going to go crazy. We'll be fine here."
I walked through the apartment, listening to the old hardwood floors creak beneath my boots.
"Is it supposed to make that sound?"
"Yes, Quincy, it's supposed to make that sound. It's an old building; old buildings have that kind of character?"
I wasn't about to let an overly analytical Quantum Neural Computer ruin this moment for me. A place like this had been among the staples of my childhood dreams along with wrestling. Everything in the future is neat, clean, and orderly. Everything was sterile and had a purpose and what's worse, nearly everyone liked it that way. There was no vibrancy, no artistry, there was no life.
The twenty first had its problems like war, global warming, and a frightening rise of nationalist populist leaders that were going to lead the world into some very dark times. But right here, right now, there was so much to take in. Before my ship crashed, I'd intended it to be a day trip. Pop back to the twenty first, watch PCW put on their Mass Destruction super show, and leave. I'd be gone several hours, maybe a day, in this time period but due to some kind of shenanigans involving the laws of physics, I think, time moved slower the further back you went. If I'd been gone twenty four hours in this time I'd have been gone and back in the literal blink of an eye.
Instead I was well into my second month, somewhere between five minutes and five hours back home. I could have asked Quincy, he'd know the time conversions. It had been a wild two months though. I'd gone from a time displaced fan to actually getting hired by PCW to competing in the quarterfinals of one of the grandest wrestling tournaments in history. I was surrounded by people I'd grown up idolizing and I was loving every second of it.
I continued my private tour of my new home, loving everything about it. I loved the creaky radiator in the living room, the stains on the wall in the hallways; I even loved watching the motes of dust float lazily through the afternoon sun. My nose began to twitch, okay, maybe not the dust.
The rest of my tour took me all of two minutes, but that's what you get with a one bedroom apartment. Standing in the emptiness I felt my heart start to beat a little faster. I was surrounded by nothing, just like in the time void. My breathing became more rapid, shallow. It felt like the empty space was closing around me.
I don't remember leaving the apartment. One minute I was in my new home and the next walking down the street. I don't remember going shopping for anything either, but the bags in my hands said otherwise. I forced myself to stop and look in the bags. Clothes, apparently in the middle of a panic attack I had decided I needed more clothes. It made sense logically, I had no idea how long I was going to be here so I might as well try and fit in a little more.
I closed the bags and looked around, realizing that I had a bigger problem. I had no idea where I was.
"Quincy, where am I?" I whispered so as not to draw attention.
"You are currently traveling north along Augusta Street, approximately one point eight kilometers from your residence."
A little over a mile then; not very far. I breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay, Quincy, guide me home."
A wireframe overlay settled over my field of vision, giving everything a cubed look before it faded and left a blue line that glowed slightly. With a somewhat invasive AI in your brain you were never lost. It wasn't going to take much time to get home, but after my little fugue episode I wanted to stop and take stock of everything, make sure everything was still running correctly.
"Quincy, can you initiate base diagnostics and make sure my augments haven't fried my brain or anything like that?"
"Initiating base diagnostic now, stand by."
There wasn't anything I could really do if one of my augments did fail but knowing would hopefully give me some peace of mind. I didn't think there was anything wrong with me, but it didn't hurt to check. Somewhere around the sixty percent mark of the scan I found myself in front of a quaint little electronics store, the kind with televisions in the windows. The nightly news feed was playing clips from an interview they'd done earlier in the day with Hiroshi Yukio. There was no volume, partly due to the fact that they were behind glass and mostly due to the fact that they were on mute.
Seeing the gregarious sumo gave me pause. The official card hadn't been released yet, but I knew he was going to be my next challenge. How did I know? Because they'd just finished up the second week of round one matches for the tournament. That meant round two, which only had eight of the original sixteen competitors would be the next step. They'd shown everyone the brackets; in fact they had a large display that updated after every match. So it was a foregone conclusion that I'd be facing Yukio next.
He was going to be my largest challenge to date, and not just because of his size. Which was, let’s face it, damn intimidating. At six foot six and five hundred pounds, he held a half foot and a three hundred pound weight advantage over me. I was fairly certain that with my augments at their current level I couldn't overpower him. No, not fairly certain. I was certain. I didn't want to rely on my augmentations to win, that was tantamount to cheating and I wouldn't stoop to that level. Still, it couldn't hurt to bump them up just a little so that I wasn't absolutely destroyed, was it?
Hiroshi was a dominant force in the ring. The fact that he'd gone undefeated in the four matches he'd had since he's reemerged in mid-February proved that. He'd faced former champions, prize fighters, and a large white lizard man and had emerged victorious each time. I knew that if I wasn't careful I'd be the next person getting destroyed. Well maybe not destroyed. Hiroshi was a paradox, a veritable gentle giant when he wanted to be. He'd avoided cheap and easy wins in his past matches, even going so far as to help one opponent back into the ring and dust him off.
I knew that were I so inclined I could use these aspects of his personality to win. It wasn't cheating, but it still wasn't how I wanted to win.
"If you can't win honestly, what's the point?" I mused.
SAM and Lunatic had certainly challenged me in ways that I hadn't expected but at no time did I ever feel like the match was out of control. Conversely I wondered if Hiroshi felt the same way. His list of opponents was no doubt impressive, but did he feel like he was challenged? As big as he was who could realistically challenge him in terms of size and strength; I struggled to think of anyone past, present, or future that would ever match his impressive magnitude. It certainly explained why he was one of the favorites to win the tournament this year.
This was his first foray into the Icemann Invitational, but not his first experience with big matches in PCW. I remembered watching recordings of the Deadly Rumble match from two years ago. He'd been cut down by Billy Sadistic before he really had a chance to get going but I didn't have any doubt that the match would have unfolded very differently had Sadistic not gotten involved.
I don't remember getting home only this time it wasn't because of a black out. I put my newest acquisitions in the bedroom closet and made a mental note to look into buying actual furniture for my apartment.
"I have finished the basic diagnostic as you requested, Alexandra,” Quincy materialized in my field of vision.
"And how's it look, Doc?"
"Your augmentations appear to be functioning properly, albeit at much lower capacity than they were ever intended. I did document a spike in your noradrenaline and cortisol levels as well as unusual activity in your amygdala prior to you vacating the domicile."
I nodded in response and chalked it up to stress; it was hard being stuck in the past. Most likely it was a one and done event so I wouldn't spend much time worrying about it. If it happened again I'd give it another look.
I finished hanging up my new clothes before heading out again, this time I was heading back to the ship. The diagnostic had come back clean but I still wanted to see about bumping up my the efficiency of my other augments just a tad. I'd leave anything that affected my physical strength alone but I wanted to make sure that those that affected my endocrine and nervous system had a little more power.
I made my way into the dilapidated warehouse and made another mental note. This time it was a reminder to look for something a bit less apocalyptic to keep my ship. I pulled back the stained drop cloth that I used to cover it and took my place in the cockpit. I tried not to flinch (and failed) when I accessed my data port.
I was about to slide the data spike into my port when I heard cans clatter loudly to the ground. I pulled myself out of the cockpit just in time to watch a shadow run through the open doorway. Someone had seen me, even worse they had seen my ship.