Chase swam up in to consciousness, still reveling in the pain associated with humanity as he stood, walking to the small counter where his bottle of water stood.
He took a long pull, then spat it out in the small sink of the kitchenette. He decided today would be his last day in the Moscovite Arcology, or at least in this small room, barely bigger than the closet of his room in the Elwes mansion had been.
Sitting down, he pulled out the last of his Jimmy Bean Breakfasts1--he had ‘won’ twelve at an event in the streets--and hit the button to make it heat itself then settled in for a high protein soy breakfast burrito, chicoffee, too yellow soy eggs, and slightly mealy soy links.
He tossed the trash in the recycler and made sure all his gear was packed then went to shower in the shared restroom. He idly played a game on his datapad until it was his turn then was in and out of the sonic shower as fast as he could. It was broken and only did high pitch sonics, causing a headache and interesting effects on blood vessels if stood under for too long.
Dressed and ready for the day, he grabbed his bag and tossed it over his shoulder then headed down to the front desk and checked out, authorizing the forty credit cleaning fee.
He spent most of the morning walking around Travel Boulevard, watching the various holos displaying the vacation sectors.
He hesitated, interested in the Amish Reservation2 and thought Hmm, a visit with them would be interesting, perhaps I could work with them for a few months, learn about their religion and learn some new skills.
But I really don’t want to go back to the Americas, he decided and walked back to the European holos.
He made his decision and headed for the Marathon-Spyker Trans-EurAsia Rail Lines and used his Marathon badge to get a free upgrade to first class.
The sleeper car was palatial in comparison to his last room, 64 cubic meters with a massive bed. He dumped his bag inside and headed for the dining car to get a drink.
When he had the bartender’s attention, he ordered three fingers of brandy and settled in to watch the wanderwall in the dining car as his fingers heated the drink. He read that this trip they were running a program designed to look like they were crossing the surface of Terra during the pleistocene era. I hope we see a mammoth hunt, he thought.
As he idly watched the mastodons in their mating fights, he saw a woman with four young kids come in looking harried.
They settled in to watch the animals as their mother went and got them theirs and her own dinner.
Chase half-listened to them talking about the animals as the ride went on.
When he finished his drink he signaled the waitress and decided on the tenderloin with mushroom sauce and garlic new potatoes and asparagus.
He watched the first mammoth appear and wondered what their meat would taste like.
His meal arrived as he was debating a second drink and he decided to try a liquor Mandy had discussed one evening with a visitor, absinthe.
His drink arrived and he watched the woman prepare it, setting two sugar cubes on a spoon with a fishnet design to it then she poured water on the cubes, making them melt in to the drink until the sugar was fully in the liquor. She swirled it all together and the vividly green drink had become a milky green then she walked away as Chase picked it up to take a sip.
His meal was just finished when he saw a group of hunters were on the march and the children exclaimed in amazement to see dark skinned people. One professed there was no way it was real and Chase spoke before he could stop himself. “Human pigments have ranged from black as coal to our current colors all over the world. The current color of humanity is due to terrorism.”
They looked at him in surprise and the youngest asked, “Really?”
Chase nodded and took out his holocard, identifying himself as Samuel Hatchet, a cram tutor.
He hesitated then nodded and let himself get drawn in to a teaching scenario as their mother looked grateful for the distraction so she could finish her meal.
“You see, those aren’t even the same species as us, they’re Homo Ergaster.”
The children giggled at Homo and Chase fought not to roll his eyes. “We’re Homo Sapien Corrupsi though most people ignore it and still call us Homo Sapien sapien.”
“What does that mean?” one of the children asked.
“One hundred twenty seven years ago, a terrorist organization released an RNA bomb3 that began to send fake messages. We essentially went from one generation of a world with mostly varied shades of brown to a world where everyone was essentially albino--albino is a complete lack of melanin, the chemical that causes colors in skin and hair. The bomb was so effective that the best scientists could only reverse its effect on hair and even blonde and red hair which were utterly recessive by that time became even more rare.” He turned and saw a hunt was beginning. “Look! They’ve found a mammoth!”
They all looked out the window as a group of hunters used fire and stoneheaded spears to separate one of the mammoths from a group, running it towards a cliff.
Once they had run it off the cliff and to its death they set enormous fires to keep the other mammoths away and began butchering the animal. The children and Chase watched in awe as they worked. “They’re gonna eat it?” one of the children whispered.
“Yes. Humans are actually omnivorous but most people are vegetarian since meat is so expensive. The meat you eat at home is most likely made from soy seasoned and shaped to look like meat."
When the butchering was half complete the females and older males of the tribe had arrived and Chase told them about the sex barriers of the times soon the meat harvested was being brought back to the camp.
At the end of the evening, Chase had received profuse thanks from the mother then he headed back to his quarters and settled in to the bed after kicking off just his boots.
He was awoken by a whistle signifying they were arriving at his stop in two hours.
Chase pulled his boots back on and grabbed his bag then went to get breakfast.
When the train stopped he was the first to hop off and headed to the Checkpoint from Eastern to the Western Borderline4 sector. How many times is the communism experiment going to to fail before they realize humans are too human to run it? he asked himself as he waited to be let back in to Eastern Borderline. He had traveled from one Communist run sector to a Democratic sector so he could get in to an other Communist sector.
As soon as he entered Eastern Borderline he checked his datapad and headed to the zone he had come to see.
Chase grinned as he saw the dozens of bars on both side of the street. “By Crom, I’ve found Valhalla!” he exclaimed.
He walked in to one calling itself The Dude and Catastrophe5 and settled at the bar, idly playing with a little balsa wood and paper umbrella sitting on it.
“I’ll have a St Bart’s6 Dark heart Stout,” he told the waitress and she went off to get it. Chase admired the sheer clingy shift she wore over a latex minidress then dropped the credits on the counter when she delivered the beer.
He put the beer down and opened his datapad so he could make notes of what he thought about the beer.
Chase spent the next thirty minutes making notes on it and two other beers then decided to try the most expensive one on the board.
She brought it to him and smiled as he raised an eyebrow as she said, “Your Regenbogenschwarzbier.”
“What’s with the head?”
“The head’s interaction with air and the glassware causes it. Normally it’s only one or two colors. All seven is really rare. it’s considered lucky.”
“Interesting.”
Chase had the beer raised almost to his lips when someone jostled him and it was knocked from his hands. “Fuckyourmother!”
The larger man, an obvious troublemaker from his missing teeth and fading bruises on his knuckles and under the v-neck of his tunic, caught Chase by his shirt and stood him up, twisting the fabric in his fist.
“What did you say?!”
“I said you’re the result of your sister-mother-aunt fucking her brother-father.”
The punch landed before Chase saw it coming due to the occlusion by the man’s other arm. It split his lip and loosened two teeth as he hit the table behind him, breaking it. Cable’s only thought was shock that it was a real wood table.
Chase came up off the ground, his shoulder catching the other combatant in the waist, doubling him over as he slammed the man in to the bar. He rolled to the side, coming up in a Kravbo Korosu stance.
Chase twisted to the side as his opponent rushed at him and his leg came out, forcing the man’s right knee to go from straight to fully bent, sending him face forward to the ground. He moved in, punching downwards in to the man’s neck, blunting his full strength so he didn’t activate the inertial engines in the rings.
Chase used his foot to nudge the man over and saw he was unconscious, blood streaming from his mouth, nose, and a large tear above his eye.
The waitress handed him a bag of ice and whispered, “You should probably go. He’s an asshole but his brother is the security chief.”
Frak, he thought as he grabbed up his bag and left the bar.
As he walked along the street he kept to the darker ones, nursing the ache in his hand from the hit as he thought, Dammit that lager smelled so amazing. Like that candy Connor loved so much. Oh well.
At the border crossing he was let back through much easier than getting in and sighed as he realized, Man, I didn’t even get to see the Lenin Museum. That fat goatfraker!
Chase left the reikyuu and walked along the streets, looking for a place with larger rooms. He hated having to carry his seabag to a communal washroom just to decide on his clothes for the next day.
He turned a corner and found a small girl sitting on a stoop and crying. Setting his bag down, he asked, “What happened little one?”
“My doll got ripped up by this guy’s dog and my mommy can’t afford to buy SwifTailor.”
“Well you’re in luck, I actually have some extra.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised.
He took out the tubule from his bag and she set out her doll. Chase applied it in the various tears and soon her dog was repaired and she was hugging him tightly. “Thank you!”
“Just keep her away from dogs,” he told her as she rushed to show her mother.
He looked at the tubule and saw he had used the last of it. Dammit, empty. How much does this stuff cost? Hmm, wonder if it was a real dog or a really badly programmed synthorganic?
He found himself outside a CafBar and went inside, slowing as he saw a short blond-haired woman with numerous piercings and her companion robot, a small MartinA7 model nodding their heads to the music as they sang.
“We've got tonight, babe,” the android sand. “Why don't you stay?!”
“Deep in my soul, I've been so lonely, All of my hopes fading away.”
. . . what the frak? Chase thought to himself. Is she a robosexual? Is this that kind of place? he pondered as he looked around but only saw people amused by the pair.
Chase made his order through the table’s holowell and the waitress brought him his beer.
“Did you want to be put on the list? we’ve got like four open slots still.”
“Uhh, no, not tonight,” he told her. Or ever, he thought.
Chase wondered why he stayed, listening to half-inebriated or worse people singing but stayed, enjoying watching the interactions. The people who tried their best but weren’t as good as people with natural talent seemed to get the most encouragement to go back up and sing again.
He was debating leaving when a large group of men in the red away jerseys of the Marathon RC8 team stood up, making their way to the podium.
The music began and they began singing together. “When you walk through the storm, Hold your head up high, And don't be afraid of the dark, At the end of the storm.”
Chase found himself caught up with the energy of the moment as he and everyone else in the bar lifted their drinks and began singing along. “There's a golden sky, And the sweet silver song of the lark, Walk on, through the wind, Walk on, through the rain.”9
Chase held the pillow over his head, groaning in pain over the hangover and the massive noise, a THROOOOMing10 sound that repeated over and over.
“What the frak is that?!” he growled as he got out of bed and dressed.
Chase’s last ring went on and he headed down the stairs. I’m going to kill everyone!
The he stopped still when he saw what had happened. The hotel across from his was half-destroyed from a cleansing unit that had fallen from the roof of the arcology. He could see the robotic assists repairing the arcology’s wall, making sure exterior atmosphere didn’t enter.
Okay, note to self, Chase thought. Never bunk on an exterior level again.
Chase saw a woman trying to get out and rushed to help, yelling at a slack-jawed bystander. “Get over here and help.” When he moved in, grabbing a polymer pole, Chase chastised him. “No, shore up that side.”
Chase pointed at what he meant and the man nodded. “Oh, I see what you mean.”
SecSec and Sector Emergency Response team began arriving as Chase helped the woman out then helped her walk to SecEmer vehicle.
He faded backwards in to the watching crowd and back in to his hotel, clutching his torn jacket sleeve.
When he pulled it off, he saw his arm was ripped up as well. “So that’s what that sensation was,” he muttered to himself, wrapping his fingers around the wound as he headed back up to his room. “Now I need more SwifTailor too.”
Chase grabbed his gear and headed out, looking at his datapad to find the nearest SwifTailor distributor.
Inside the store he asked the woman for a bottle of NanStyptic. “Two bottles of SwifTailor as well.”
She put the NanStyptic on the counter and turned to get the SwifTailor as she said, “Four hundred twelve credits, ten percent off for each empty tube of SwifTailor you turn in.”
Chase took out his two empties and then handed her his credstick. While she rung up the purchase, he spread the NanStyptic on his arm then moved aside and laid his jacket out on an empty table and used the SwifTailor on it. As it reassembled his jacket, he pondered if it would be possible to reprogram the NanStyptic to act as the much more expensive SwifTailor. Only if I had access to a nanolab or a UA he decided after the jacket was finished.
He swung the jacket back on and shouldered his bag then headed out, deciding to head for one of the safehouses, tired of spending his own money on ratholes.
Chase walked in to the bar and looked around. Nice, he thought then walked up to the end of the bar and settled on the stool, raising an eye as the stool began to slowly raise him up until his forearm at a 90 degree angle was level with the bar.
He ignored it as the bartendress approached. He saw her left leg was repurposed from a Marathon prototype 20-900 HK robot11. She smiled as she approached and asked, “What can I get you?”
“Hmm, do you have a sampler tray?”
“Yep, be right back.”
He wondered if her Southern Gothic accent was an affectation or if she was truly from the Antebellum Arcology as she set a tray with thirty vials in front of him.
“They go from lowest in alcohol to highest, your left to right.”
Chase handed her his credstick as he said “Start a tab. Thanks.”
When he finished taste testing, he decided on an other Highland’s Mist.
Chase lifted his head from the bar and swiped at the half-dozen soyclusters that had stuck to him.
A different bartender smirked at him as she said, “Three credits an hour for sleeping on my bar.”
“Erh--what’s my tab at right now?”
“Forty credits including your four Highland’s.”
He nodded as she asked, “Want breakfast? it’s past oh nine hundred.”
“Yes. And a couple fingers of tequila.”
He tossed off the last of the tequila as she set a plate with fruit, chicoffee, and soymeat filled crescent pastries in front of him.
“An other ten credits. You looking for a room? we got one upstairs.”
She showed him the room and told him, “Twenty-five creds a night, also covers the same breakfast you had every morning.”
“I’ll take it.”
Chase made his way back from the bathroom and settled at his booth, smiling as he saw his fifth beer for the evening was all ready at the table.
Halfway through, he burped loudly and stifled a giggle at the taste of apples of caramel.
The flavors had brought back a memory of Connor’s sixteenth birthday event, a trip to a carnival in Antebellum Arcology where both had tasted chocolate injected apples dipped in caramel.
He was debating what to have for dinner when he saw the part-time waitress walk by. He watched her move, admiring the way her very tight and slightly ragged denim shorts12 followed her curves, the animated tattoo of a snake writhing its way in and out of cover.
She passed by him again, winking at him as she passed and he smiled at her then went back to looking at the menu.
His concentration was destroyed by the sound a hand hitting someone’s backside, a tray of beers falling, and an inarticulate screech of anger and surprise.
He stood and turned, grabbing the man’s hand before it could grab her backside again. “She’s told you before to stop.”
The man drew a knife from his boot as he stood and Chase rolled his eyes and brought his wrist down as hard as he could on the edge of the table. He screamed in pain and went to the floor, cradling his wrist.
An other member of the group came out of the booth and Chase caught up the tray, slamming it in to the man’s face.
Chase cocked his head to the side as the man went insensate. That was fast, he thought.
The man’s two remaining friends came out of the booth and one draw a vibroblade while the other ran for the door. One of the other regulars tripped him, sending him headfirst in to a pole.
Chase turned back to the man with a vibroblade realized the man had some skills. He held it properly and Chase’s own knife was in his bag upstairs.
He moved to the side as his opponent stabbed out, catching Chase’s shirt and shredding it.
He growled and picked up a mug, ducking out of the way and spun back, slamming it in to the man’s face, shattering the man’s nose and sending him backwards in to the wall. When he bounced forward, Chase’s fist caught him on the jaw and the man went down, his vibroblade shutting off as he lost his grip on it.
Chase scooped it up, deciding to keep it as a trophy as two of the regulars picked up the guy and carried him out while the owner brought over a wetted bar towel.
“Interested in being our bouncer? Free drinks at end of shift and ten creds an hour.”
Chase accepted the cup of chicoffee from the waitress and took a sip as he watched the bar from his vantage point near the door.
A pair came in and he nodded then went back to idly watching. This is actually kind of a cool job. I bet I’d be an awesome bartender. I should learn how to mix drinks like those Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters. That thing was delicious, even if it did feel like a gold brick wrapped in lemon hit me in the face13, Chase thought. He ignored the fact that it was less than a twentieth what he had made as Connor’s companion/therapist/friend.
The owner looked at the clock and called out “Closing time - one last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer14.”
Chase settled at the bar once all the patrons were out and accepted the drink held out to him.
The owner set the used glassware of the night in to a basin filled with rubber dividers then began pouring distilled water in to it.
“How come you don’t put them in the dishwasher?” Chase asked.
“High-speed oscillation vibrates off all dirt and then a wipe with the orange bar towel finishes the cleansing job. Nanobots in the weave of the fabric keep the glass clean of detriment. Soap causes a film that ruins the head.”
“Interesting. An other thistle ale.”
“You always drink the best beers,” she said as she poured the ale in to a thistle glass.
“Got taught to drink by someone very high in social status. My first drink was an expensive scotch and on Thursdays and Fridays he’d teach me about drinking.”
The waitresses sat down on either side of Chase, the one he had stopped the sexual harassment of dropping a kiss on his cheek. She asked, “Have you ever thought about Bus Stop Boxing?”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
The women had changed from their skimpy uniforms in to their own clothing and led Chase and one of the other male bartenders down the street until they found an alleyway packed with people blocking off the exits.
The women pushed their way through, pulling Chase and soon they found themselves at the edges of an opening where two men wearing just trousers and their shoes were bare knuckled boxing, their shadows jerky on the floor as glowglobes above them jostled from the movements of the air caused by the exultations of the crowd and the fighters’ movements.
The women cheered on the fighter wearing green/brown/tan blotched trousers and Chase ran the designs through the dbase in his head and decided it was an old military camouflage design for working in forests. Chase tried not to chuckle at how old those trousers must’ve been. There hasn’t been a natural forest in existance for nearly five hundred years.
Chase enjoyed watching the fights until the fourth when he leaned over and asked the cyborg waitress “Why’s it called Bus Stop Boxing15?”
She shrugged and said back, “I don’t know, it probably started at Mass Transit points, They used to be called busses I think I remember from history class. Remember Rosa Parks?”
He nodded at that reference, the information flooding back as he watched the winner get paid off and thought I could really clean up here. I’m physically human and my response time is much faster than most people.
When closing time came around, Chase checked the time and the closest bout on his datapad.
The same group left once they were fully closed up and headed to an other fight.
Chase took off his rings, dropping them in to the cybernetic waitress’s outstretched hands.
“Why do you wear all these rings?” she asked as he took the last one off.
“Because they work the same as plasteel knuckles but I can’t be arrested for them since they’re obviously jewelry.”
Chase raised his hand and the bet guarantor called on him as the next in the ring.
He pulled his shirts off, revealing his well-toned physique and handed the shirts to the other waitress.
“Taking all bets now. Five’ll get you fifty if the kid gets a takedown.”
Chase pulled his moneyclip from his pocket and tossed it at the man. “A thousand on myself.” It had fifteen hundred in it: Five hundred for the match and the remainder for the bet. Winners got 1000 credits minus five percent to the guarantor.
The crowd ate it up.
Chase fell in to a boxing stance as his opponent approached cockily, dancing slightly. Since it was quite literally boxing Chase didn’t fall in to a Kravbo stance and instead used the Aiyura16 Corps Advanced Combat Stance since it lent itself to the Sweet Science.
His opponent moved in, taking a quick swing at Chase’s head.
He ducked, coming up with a quick punch to the midsection and connected then danced away, shifting his weight to his rear foot then pushed off to increase power in his superman punch.
As he moved back, he blinked a few times, mentally shutting down the HUD that insistently informed him of various ways to kill his opponent. His supplemental Operating System assumed the adrenaline, noradrenaline and cortisol released in to his bloodstream were in relation to a life or death situation and acted accordingly.
His distraction let his opponent get in one good blow to Chase’s face, opening a cut above his eye.
Chase ducked away, wiping the blood from his face and went for a takedown punch, faking a shift to the right then came in with a left-handed uppercut.
It wasn’t as effective as Chase had hoped at human strength but it rattled his opponent and Chase went back in with a spinning backhand and as his opponent with to his knees, Chase finished him with a rabbit punch to the forehead, knocking him unconscious.
The crowd cheered as his coworkers took out nanstyptic vials and bottles of water to clean him up while the bet guarantor held up his hand then paid him off.
As the women cleaned Chase up, he rolled up the money and one said, “ I don’t think they’re going to give ten to one on you anymore. I made ninety-seven hundred from my tips!”
“Some guy gave me a voucher for a free bottle of Cachaça from his shop. What’s Cachaça?”
Chase took a large swallow of cachaça and stepped under the water of the shower in the safe house, revelling under the water as it beat down on him.
He turned and winced as the water beat down on his roadrash from the fight. His opponent had gotten in a good punch that had sent him backwards on to detritus.
It feels like the water catches my aches, draws it in to a net, and pulls it all away.
He finished his shower and grabbed the bottle on his way to the bed then settled on it and put the bottle on his bedside table.
He picked up his datapad and checked the schedule of BSB fights.
Tomorrow night’s fight is in the Jadzia zone. I wonder if I can make it in time once the bar closes.17
Chase caught the rowdy by his collar and frog-marched him out the door. Once he was outside, he grabbed on to the man’s belt and threw him in to the minipark across from the bar.
As he walked back inside, Chase clapped his hands twice then wiped themoff on his pants as one of the waitresses brought around his mug of chicoffee and set it on the small table by his chair.
“Here ya go sweetie.”
“Thanks.”
He was about to take a drink when the man he had just ousted came back in, loudly exclaiming he was gonna kill Chase.
Chase smiled and let loose a punch that rocked the man’s head and he dropped straight down as the bartender called for a SecSec pickup. Chase dragged him out and left him on the street for the Sector Security forces.
The driver of the SecSec vehicle poked his head in and nodded at the bartender then went back to his ride.
The end of the shift soon came and the bar close since it was a weekday.
Chase changed out of his liquor spattered clothing and they joined the only male bartender at the bar in his antique Aston Martin DZ24. “Nice car,” Chase said as the two waitresses got in on either side of him in the backseat.
“Thanks. My uncle and I spent most of my childhood restoring it to factory on the interior and replacing the engine and drivetrain with an acoustic levitation propagation drive then building the software to make it drivable via a wheel instead of just a robot car.”
They arrived at the fight area in the Jadzia sector and got out, surprised to see comfort food trucks and mobile bars working the crowd.
“Jadzia Sector laws allow it,” one of the spectators said, used to the surprised look on outsiders.
Chase took his jacket off and the cyborg waitress looked surprised. “You heal fast! There’s no bruising at all on your hand and you just punched that guy out.”
Chase saw bets on him were at four to one him winning while his opponent was thirty to one. For half a moment he debated taking a dive and betting on his opponent but instead took all his money he had brought with him and bed on himself.
His fight was the last of the night and he found himself watching the crowds more than the fight. Human interaction was still what he had been purpose built for and it showed up at moments he found utterly intriguing: such as watching the faces of the performers of a live sex show instead of other parts of their body.
Finally it was his fight and he watched his opponent work the crowd, trying to taunt Chase in to attacking him. He found it interesting that physiologically it seemed to be working. He greatly, greatly wanted to fight more than fly from the fight.
Chase let him come in close then ducked down and delivered four rapid punches to the man’s torso just below the tenth rib on the man’s right side then followed it up with a weaker right handed jab at the man’s shoulder due to his opponent’s movements.
He danced back, watching the fighter, waiting for the man’s next move.
When the man came in with a haymaker, Chase came up under it and did an uppercut to the man’s shoulder, intentionally trying to dislocate the arm.
It didn’t work and Chase moved back, waiting for an other good entrance.
His opponent came in for an other haymaker and Chase this time locked him up with an elbow lock and began punching him repeatedly in the gut with his strong arm.
The guarantor pulled them apart when the bell rang and Chase swished water in his mouth then spat it out and looked surprised. He wondered where the blood had come from but instead of feeling his face let the bartender wet his face down then dry it off with the towel.
The next round was on and Chase waded in and brought in an uppercut that finished it, knocking out the other fighter on his feet.
Chase collected his money and the congratulations from the watchers then let his friends lead him back to the car.
“I’m starving,” Chase said after a few minutes.
“I know a good diner,” one of the waitresses said, showing the bartender its coordinates on her datapad.
Inside the diner they took a corner seat and studied the holospot menu.
When it was Chase’s turn to order he said, “I’ll try the cybervilla omelette with a side of soy rashers and hot carob drink. Oh, double rashers please.”
There meals were all most finished and with a lull in conversation, the bartender looked up the next fight. “Tomorrow the only BSB is taking place in the Bückstabü district.”
“Not going that far,” Chase decided.
The others nodded.
When they arrived back at the bar, Chase and the two waitresses took the backstairs up to the apartments and at Chase’s door the cybernetic waitress pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek. “Night Chase.”
01. Jimmy Dean and Jim Bean reference. I guess one bought the other?
02. Ahh, like most reservations, it’s people living in a specific style partially for edification of others. Unlike most reservations, this one is filled by people who’ve chosen to be Amish after a time outside the reservation the their choosing to be baptised. Rumspringa isn’t this, rumspringa is a period of time that includes their time out with the English.
03. I really, really hope this isn’t impossible. hoping it’s just improbable.
04. Ahh, a reference to the Berlin Wall. I don’t remember why I thought this was such a great idea at the time.
05. The Dude and the Catastrophe, an Achewood reference. One of the only two furry comics I read [that and Kevin and Kell] since they aren’t like most i’ve seen, hypersexualized with humancentric sexuality.
06. Simpsons reference, I’ve been watching it as white noise lately, in the middle of season 21 at the moment.
07. A reference to Questionable Content and HHGGtG. #winning
08. The Marathon RC is the team of roboticists and the pilots of the robots that maintain and pilot the robots fielded by Marathon in Arena [I hate this sentence’s format]. It’s basically the FCs and Associations of the future. I plan to write in some human only and cyborg only sports but I’ve yet to brainstorm those.
09. No, I’m not a Leeds supporter, don’t even really follow European Football though if Manchester United or Arsenal are on at a sports bar I’ll watch though that’s a rarity[be being in a sports bar]. The RC is Robotics in reference to the Arena. They’re the FCs and Associations of the future as it were. I do want to introduce some sort of team game played by humans still though.
10. Ahh, this scene. Literally moments after I wrote that panel my cunt of a neighbor decided to start playing his car stereo as loud as he fucking could once again. After a few more times of this the landlord finally booted his dumbass before he ended up with a .458SOCOM round to the face from Faith.
11. She’s Summer Glau with her Cameron T900 leg showing essentially.
12. It’s a Dukes of Hazzard reference which would’ve been more visual cuing in the comic.
13. SUCH a heavy handed reference.
14. Ahh Semisonic, were they a one-hit wonder? I don’t remember them ever having a second hit on the charts or ever hearing of them again.
15. I was listening to Bus Stop Boxer by the Eels when I started this short arc and thought “That would be a bitching story arc, especially since we need to demonstrate how he came to be such an enthusiast for physical combat.”
16. Needed a name that sounded different and decided to use a follower on twitter’s name since it could be easily written in kanji and looked vaguely weird.
17. This scene was written while I was listening to DS9 as background noise, this one specifically the episode where they raised the Jem’hadar kid. And on the topic of DS9, I always wondered what kind of bra Nana Visitor wore during her jacketless moments with that part-woven shirt since her bra straps didn’t show and there was no nippliness. She was usually pretty actiony during those scenes so a strapless seems like there’d be a lot of rearranging, even with toupee tape.
