A dark vortex
Created by countless deaths
Of pure life, ended
One spot for feeding
For creatures that hunger
For such things.
When the supply
Is cut off –
An appetite left
Unsatisfied
Will find other sources
To feed off of.
Category: Writing
Mitigating Disaster
20 – 40 – 60 – 80
What is old? What is young? How much time do any of us have?
Some get 100 years; others never get to draw breath. What short circuits when someone doesn’t make it?
Some alien races don’t share our distinctly “civilized” sensibilities. For example, the “shimmering ones” consider it normal to pop up out of nowhere and scare the bejesus out of us. They consider us very nervous and easily offended.
Xander wishes he had more to work with: Using Savoy’s notebooks to retrace his steps, thinking and mental processes, Xander wishes he had more to go on. Nick was prone to rushing into things headlong, which is evident by the random and disjointed journal entries. He will follow one line of thinking to the point of some brilliant synthesis, only to jump to another subject altogether.
The mystery now, for Xander, is to determine what or where those syntheses have ended up – if indeed they even exist – for the sake of his friend.
[[Materialistic Reveler]]
Triad gambling house
I’m in a Triad gambling house. The mood is festive but solemn, as it would be in an illegal drug/prostitution den. Nice place. It is enormous and labyrinthine, a sort of typical Oriental architecture (I guess), and a hacienda-type place. I must be a mercenary (or security, for that matter) and proceed to engage in some crazy Far Cry/Tomb Raider-type shoot-em-up, crash, and building collapse sliding down kind of antics. I felt like I was there. It’s a Chinese gangster nightclub. Fun times.
This reminds me of another dream I had a short time ago. I was in a scrap metal business, dropping off a load at these Vietnamese guys’ garage. They quote me some bullshit low figure, and I tell them to forget it. So they proceed to take me on this tour of their underground shanty village under the plaza (which reminds me of a cross between Franklin’s body shop in GTAV and a seedy motel in Stoney Creek – the place has a gas station, garage, grocery store and several other businesses – family-owned I’m guessing) which has squalid conditions and people living on top of each other. The guys are trying hard to be (or at least appear) friendly, but something tells me that if I don’t split quickly, I will be Pho tonight. So I grovel like a bitch. I go, “Look, fellas, I meant no disrespect, but … I accept your price for the metal. I want to start a long and friendly business relationship.” Ha. What happened after that is anybody’s guess.
[[Arcane/dangerous-game/plot/A son, reincarnation of the father|A son, reincarnation of the father]]