Anakoni Stark

[FONT="Times New Roman"]Word to the wise; Stay away from cheap fast food coffee, they dont know what the hell they're doing.[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"] [B][U]Chapter V[/B][/U] [I]Never mistake motion for action[/I] - Ernest Hemmingway As I groaned and slowly regained perception, my augmented body ached in natural pain while the rest of my morgue remained unscathed. That's when I saw Symantha in the morgue's upper level observatory, trying to see if I was alright. "[B][I]Don't worry; I'm fine for the most part, Laurent.[/B][/I]" She looked down at me, with a countenance of relief and then she started to worry again, "[B][I]Alexander, are you sure you're alright? Should I take you to the hospital? Is the evidence compromised? How are the aug----[/B][/I]" "[B][I]Like I said, I am alright.[/B][/I]" I reassured her in a slightly annoyed tone, she began making her way down to the body fridge. She opened the door and I couldn't help but think to myself why such a good looking innocent girl would be working in such a dark and meticulous place. She went over to the body I was examining and began taking reference photos as I quietly double checked to see if I was really ok, all of the augmentations seemed to be functioning fine, but this message ticked across my line of sight that read: [B]This system is attempting to recover from a serious error, please seek your administrator to recalibrate your system.[/B] Wait, what? I don't understand, do they mean my internal computer or the enhancements? And who the hell would my administrator be anyway? I can't seem to remember the name of the surgeon, or anything really; post-incident my memory has been relatively absent. "[B][I]Well, I managed to compare the tool marks on our victim, Andre McGrath; 32 from Coral Gables, he worked for one of those advertising firms that has The Corporation as one of their clientele. The tool marks came back to the tools we seized from the suspect from that case from 2022.[/B][/I]", Symantha told me, I didn't care much for my case now; I wanted answers and starting with the surgeon who turned me into [B][I]this[/B][/I] might provide some insight. "B][I]I know I'm going to sound like a douchebag for saying this, but I can't go with you to chase this one, Sammy; I need to find out who did this to me; I'm tired of getting the 'holy shit he's not dead!'- Expression. I've been dead for five years, and being asleep for that long, I just can't wake up and pretend that nothing happened.[/B][/I]" I told her with a new founded sense of longing in my voice, although I could sense in the back of my mind that I had popped some sort bubble of hers, she never really got to work a case with me before because my department was stretched so thinly that she'd be busy organizing the evidence locker instead of processing and gathering it or working on other mundane jobs. As I began taking off my lab coat and leaving the morgue, I told Symantha to bring one of those newer Level 1s with her and that I would make up for my sudden departure by making dinner for her at my place. She just kind of stood there, most likely disappointed in me, but I need to do what has to be done. "[B][I]The name of the surgeon who brought you back from the dead is Adele Glass; she lives in Biscayne Bay, I'm pretty sure she programmed her address into your interface somewhere.[/B][/I]" Symantha told me with a hint of aversion in her voice. I thanked her, and she left without making any sort of eye contact or acknowledgement that I was there. Great, my first day back on the job and what's happened so far? Well I keep getting the holy-crap-he's-alive-thing, I got electrocuted in my own morgue [I]and[/I] I just rained on the parade of my partner; let's hope that my confrontation with Ms. Glass won't be so ill-fated. While I was walking out back to my car, I ran into Dresdner in the main lobby. "[B][I]Why aren't you going with Symantha for evidence collection?[/B][/I]" He asked me; that was all he had to say to set me off, I ended up grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into one of the glass walls of the complex hard enough to the point where the impact caused the glass to crack. "[B][I]One question for you, Kevin; Why did YOU publicize my death? So you could score another shred of false credibility?[/B][/I]" That's when Oliver Adams, one of the newer CSIs; took note of the noise and intervened. He pulled me back, saying that utilizing half a million Credits to inflict a new definition of the word [I]Pain[/I] upon a lowlife like Kevin wouldn't solve any problems. I like the kid, for someone who hasn't been living here long; he definitely knows what's what and how to work around the hectic party-centric vibe that the city seems to represent. I asked if Oliver if he would be the one working with Laurent; he replied positively with that new-guy-enthusiasm that all of the newbies seemed to possess, as we walked out to the parking lot and to our cars. I watched the two of them get into one of the SUVs and drive off, as their vehicle got smaller in my line of sight; my eyes zoomed in on the rearview mirror and Symantha looked into it with the I'm-sorry-for-getting-mad-at-you-for-being dead-for-five-years-two-months-and-six-days-will-you-forgive-me-look. My internal computer chirped in asking if I wanted to send a text message to her phone. [I]Are you serious? I'm a mobile phone now too? What else is Glass hiding from me?[/I], I wondered as I confirmed the command. [B]Awaiting input, speak to send message.[/B] My display flashed, as I got into my mustang and started it up, the prompt continued to blink at the lower left hand corner of my sight as I drove to the address. I didn't say a single word, trying to follow the directions my GPS was giving me in that oddly enthusiastic car salesman voice and thinking of what exactly I should say. My mind was trying to come up with the least clichéd lines to make me sound less like this monster that Adele had turned me into and more like the charismatic Doctor Alexander Shepard, which Symantha Laurent was assigned to work with five years ago. After mentally reciting some lines that reminded me of corny love movies, I had realized that I had wound up parked in front of a dilapidated warehouse. The prompt continued to flash in the same spot and I quickly muttered something just to get it out of the way. I began to wonder if my internal GPS was on the same level of unreliability as Google's attempt to map the other galaxies, with caution I took my revolver from its holster as I walked up to the front door of the storehouse. The door is ajar, I pushed it open and my user interface seemed to disengage itself, the hissing of the hydraulics that replaced my joints seemed to make itself audible. [I]This is not cool, am I really trying to blow my cover here?[/I] I thought as I scanned the building to find my "benefactor". Despite its trashed exterior I was quite surprised that Adele had managed to turn a warehouse into an excellent living space, then again; from what Oliver had told me about how much rebuilding me had cost her, this probably was like spending money at the grocery store. Among the extraordinary living amenities that are found in a rich mad scientist's abode, I had noticed that there was an extension to the house, which is probably where Glass spent most of her time rebuilding me. I heard a soft but persistent snapping noise coming from the living room area, as I walked in, the sole occupant of the house did not even turn to see who had entered her home. "[B][I]Excuse me, Ms. Glass? I'm---[/B][/I]" "[B][I]Ah yes, Doctor Alexander Shepard of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, I was beginning to wonder when that grenade explosion would send you looking for me.[/B][/I]" Adele had finished my sentence for me, she turned her head slightly signaling for me to sit on the couch next to her. As I sat down next to her, I was amazed by how beautiful she looked. From what I could tell she looked to be in the late twenties, with that sand dusted, Middle Eastern complexion, brown eyes, slim build, dark hair; Her English accent only seemed to be the tip of her beauty. "[B][I]You took the words out of my mouth, Ms. Glass.[/B][/I]" I sighed as I began to loosen up, and relax a little bit; she did not look up and take note of the 6'3" , well built, tanned Latino with dark red camera lenses for eyes and robotic arms. She just sat there concentrating on peeling pistachios from their shells and depositing the meat of the nut into a wooden bowl. She smiled slightly as she continued to do the meaningless deed. [I]Why is she smiling? Am I really that funny?[/I] I wondered, that's when she shelled her last one, put the bowl on her coffee table and said "[B][I]Please, call me Adele. Since you've been out there so long, I have a feeling that I'll have a lot of readjustments to make. I want you to strip down and get back into the garage, Mr. Shepard.[/B][/I]" [B][U]Chapter VI[/B][/U] [I]In order to arrive at what you are not, you must go through the way which you are not[/I] - T.S. Elliot While Dr. Shepard laid on the cold metal slab, with his legs, torso and neck sliced open, and a needle in his left eye; his partner was arriving at the apartment of Anton Falk, the person of interest in the team's last known case. The pair had brought him in previously after finding his fingerprint on the handle of the murder weapon. The appearance of the apartment just seemed to scream that he was hiding something, for it was as clean as Symantha's home; after meeting Alexander (and learning of his death) she had tried to break out of the OCD cycle that had claimed her as child, but still the disease has had a death grip on her. Symantha sighed and looked around for anything that could bring Anton back to the crime lab to question him again; she had begun to process the living room as Oliver was searching the other rooms and walkway of the apartment. As the two were processing the room, a white windowless van had pulled into the parking lot next to their truck; two sharply dressed agents got out of the car and began making their way up the apartment building. Adele looked at the horridly disfigured corpse that lied there with the lungs and other vital organs still visually functioning, and continued to carry on with her surgery; Shepard's right eye had focused on her, she tried to ignore it, but she could always feel Alexander's eye looking at her, as if he had a million questions to ask; she kept reminding herself that this was merely a firmware upgrade and that his questions were much smaller than what she had rebuilt him for. Adele's mech assistants began removing the bones from Alexander's leg, when Adele finally succumbed to the infinite inquiries that Alex had been waiting for. "[B][I]I know you only have one eye at the moment, Alexander; But I can tell you have plenty of questions, from the way you've been watching me.[/B][/I]" She told the corpse on her table. He emitted this growling noise as if to say well [I]no fucking duh, Ms. Glass.[/I] She began to explain that she got involved in the Reficere Project as a lowly nurse's assistant, but as The Corporation began raiding their base of operations, their numbers dwindled in a rapid fashion. How could a shadow organization find another and eliminate it? Shepard wondered, Adele had said there was a mole within the project who leaked everything about the whole operation. The Corporation is the world's largest pharmaceutical company, they have managed to cure most diseases, and they also have this reputation for keeping their business practices and ethics out of the public's imagination by also utilizing its own self-funded task force. The extent of their brutality can be summarized in one incident; back in the year 2019, the French government had brought up a fact that one of their immunizations from the flu had caused a number of riots within the city of Paris at a UGA (United Galactic Alliance) meeting that year. The pharmaceutical giant saw this as a threat to their spotless reputation and sent the militia of their French branch to eradicate the entire city. Now all that remains of the city of lights is a derelict Champs-�lysées, an eroded Arc de Triomphe and a weathered Eiffel Tower. Adele had learned of the incident while rebuilding Shepard (the first time) and decided to look into what had driven the Parisians into madness after the injection. The chemical makeup consisted of Fatal Arterial Injected Logarithms and Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome, she soon began publishing it on social networks and sending out grassroots PSAs defaming The Corporation, the company feared losing their reputation as the world's best source for medicinal needs, so they decided to release the formula into the Earth's atmosphere. The effects were violent at first, but as time developed some of those who were affected rebounded from their deranged states of madness and regained limited control of their blood thirst. They had envisioned their rightful place back into society after being deemed monstrosities by those who were immune, they formed their own governing body, People for the Ethical Treatment of the Insane. Unknown to the public, the PETI struck an under the table deal with The Corporation to help them regain face. The two planned to take over the world, but even those living in the shadows have motives they conceal from their allies. Since Adele was one of the major sources of funding out of those who were spared from the attacks from The Corporation; it made sense to give her a major boost up the command ladder, and she went from lowly nurse's assistant to chief surgeon in a matter of months. Meanwhile back at the apartment complex, the two suits had effortlessly made their way through the front desk and were walking up the stairs to the Falk residence, when Oliver halted the two at the door. One of the suits responded by leaving a silenced bullet in Adams' head. The other of the two suited assailants, pulled out a rag doused in chloroform as they entered the apartment. As she was processing the kitchen to find some incriminating evidence, Symantha knew that something was wrong and had her hand resting on the hilt of her 9mm pistol. Before she could turn to see what was amiss, the agent with the chloroform had made its move by covering her mouth and nose. She struggled slightly, then her body had fallen limp, one of the agents began carrying Laurent back to the van, while the other dragged Oliver back into the apartment and tossed a couple of triggered explosives deeper into the apartment flat. The two dark figures moved swiftly through the Miami sunlight even with the sleeping girl on their shoulders. The agent who wasn�t loading Symantha into the van, stuck a few more triggered explosives to the truck Laurent and Adams had arrived in. After a couple of moments with struggling on how to put an unconscious girl into the back of a van, the two agents were disappearing into the rush hour traffic as a deafening explosion was produced from the apartment complex. Alexander was now sitting at Adele's kitchen table, wearing a pair of basketball shorts; helping himself to another swig from the vodka bottle and another bite of a rudimentary vegetarian sandwich he had made. The firmware upgrade proved to be successful, Adele had coated the few bones he had left with a dense sort of metallic paint. She also reprogrammed the cameras in his eyes, installed a GPS transmitter and an implant that sits on top of the thyroid cartilage surrounding his larynx, which enabled him to communicate with whoever was tuned to a certain frequency, it also allowed that person a direct visual feed of what he was seeing along with being able to track his location. "[B][I]To be honest, Ms. Gla--- Adele... I think that entire operation was like getting a haircut.[/B][/I]" Alexander implied after taking another chug of the vodka, Adele was sitting across from him eating a bowl of oatmeal and stopped with the spoon in her mouth as she heard Alex's remark. She gave him a look for saying such, and the two continued to eat breakfast in silence. That's when Alex's phone began playing Obstacle I by Interpol, and broke the stillness. He pulled the phone closer to him, looked at the caller id and threw the phone against the wall. Adele shuddered as the phone hit the wall and deactivated, but she immediately went back to fixing her gaze upon Shepard. Alex was taking finishing the last of his sandwich when he began hearing Adele's thoughts. "[B][I]Now that I've successfully finished his firmware upgrade, I think he'll be able to stand a chance against PETI. Those insane bastards don't think that the normal ones can't fight back? Let's see how they fair up against a fully developed hybrid, a good looking one at that too.[/B][/I]" Adele took Shepard by the hand and led him into her room, as Shepard was feeling uncertain about Glass' newfound intimate longing for him. While Symantha was waking up tied to a chair, in a dimly lit room with various tools along the walls.[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]I've been working on remixes, and DJ'ing out here in the Miami area, and just jamming with my friends on the drums and bass but that's the boring stuff; right now I've been working on a story that's been kind of just sitting there in the back of my mind, on a whm I decided to start it up again and rewrote it with a heavier scifi motif to it. You guys can read what I've written so far by clicking on the link in my signature. (As of this post I'm working on chapters five & six)[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]"[B][I]Sometimes, I wish drinking wine and pissing gold didnt feel like passing kidney stones; it makes me want to tell the block; Go f--- yourself and drown in the Venetian canals while you're at it.[/B][/I]" - Stark on writer's block[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"][CENTER][B]Now:[/B] Planisphere (Complete) [B]Artist:[/B] Justice[/CENTER] It was a track that my friend had on her ipod after finding out that the band had been picked to do a mix for the Dior Homme Fashion Show - Summer 09 lucky for us someone out there in the blogosphere was nice enough to put it all together as one continuous track. And it's now the longest song on my ipod, clocking in at 17mins38secs.[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"][B][U]Chapter III[/B][/U] [I]All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better.[/I] – Ralph Waldo Emerson As I pulled into the parking lot of the crime lab I heard something that caught my interest on the radio, “[B][I]Hope everyone’s Friday is going as planned, this is Achilles and you’re listening to Live BPM 107.5, sponsored in part by The Corporation; Discover difference, discover The Corporation. I know who’s Friday would be going in the right direction; Dr. Shepard of the Miami-Dade Crime lab, as he’s being awoken from that terrible episode that happened five years ago… Well, what do you know; the phones are lighting up, it seems like you guys have something to say about this one, let’s go to our first----[/B][/I]“ I turned the car off in disgust; I thought that internal affairs had kept this within the department and my lab… Then again knowing that Kevin Dresdner, the head of the PD, would be up to no good and looking for another 15 minutes of fame; would have publicized my “unfortunate occurrence” to pick on the CSI unit once again. I got out of the car, walked up the steps and looked out into horizon. Streams of different thought are running rampant through my head; [I]Five years, it’s been that long? Why couldn’t my team prevent this leak? Who is The Corporation? Who gave me the second chance to live and the new Mustang? If it’s been five years why haven’t I aged?[/I] The rush of cool air snapped me back to reality, as the automatic doors slid open and the building’s AI welcomed me back. While I walked through the complex the AI had been bringing me up to speed on what has happened, I blocked out what it had been telling me and noticed that everyone in my lab had the countenance of shock on their faces. I was thinking the same thing that they assumed: [I]we thought you were dead! This must be some sort of joke the department must be playing on us.[/I] Yeah, I’m as clueless as the rest of you. As I was extracting the epithelia from the hilt of a blade from the latest case, there was a knock on my door; it was my partner Symantha Laurent. About 5’8”, with that nice slightly tan complexion; slender build, high cheekbones, jade green eyes and blonde hair along with other prominent features it’s made me think, You could’ve gone on to be a model, and yet you decide to work here of all places, and torture me with your good looks? Her English accent is what always melts me, I don’t know why but I think I have something for girls raised in England. “[B][I]Dr. Shepard![/B][/I]” she almost screamed as she rushed in and gave me a hug, “[B][I]I missed you too, Sam. How has my lab been treating you?[/B][/I]” “[B][I]It’s been well to me… You know; I’m no longer that clumsy Level 1 that you decided to tutor back in 2022, I’m now a specialist in ballistics and trace, studying anatomy and also I’m now a Level 3, your Assistant Shift Supervisor.[/B][/I]” “[B][I]A lot can change in five years, apparently, Laurent.[/B][/I]” “[B][I]I know, did you get my phone message from this morning, Doctor?[/B][/I]” I nodded and went back to placing the epithelia samples into the centrifuge, when I heard her ask, “[B][I]Doc, can you take off your shirt so I can see what they’ve done to you?[/B][/I]” Definitely, something I really didn’t expect to wake up to, but how could I deny my partner, especially when she’s so good looking? I sighed as I removed my lab coat, took my shirt off and threw it on a chair. “[B][I]Arms and eyes are a given… Your eyes weren’t dark red before the operation and the lenses didn’t behave like those of a camera…[/B][/I]” she noted as her flashlight shined in my eyes, causing the lenses to contract and expand in a rapid manner. She began taking notes on her datapad and my onboard computer began identifying her, at an alarming rate my line of sight filled with statistics such as her name, occupation, and age, then it gave me more meticulous data such as what type of firearm she was carrying, her blood pressure and a quick summary of wounds she had sustained. She continued to take notes as I muttered the analysis to myself, “[B][I]Alright, I can see the scar on her collarbone and the signs of fatigue, but where is the bruising my analysis mentioned?[/B][/I]” Faster than I could sneeze, my lenses changed my depth of vision from the normal wavelength of light to the UV level and it revealed those bruises I wondered about, one on her left eye, several along her arms and a couple on her legs. From what I could deduct these were not the [I]everyday-oops-I-have-to-stop-running-into-these-things[/I]-type of bruises, the ones on her arms were consistent with a fist, and the shaping of the ones on her legs are regular with kicks. I began to wonder if she was being abused by someone, at which point I asked, “[B][I]Are you alright? Being rebuilt and everything, I couldn’t help but notice that there are numerous bruises on your body.[/B][/I]” She did not answer my question. With my line of slight back to the normal wavelength, my stats told me her heart rate went up slightly after I asked the question, that’s when I started hearing Symantha’s voice, but her mouth wasn’t moving. “[B][I]Holy crap, how did he know that? I took all the precautions to prevent them from being seen at work, I don’t understand how he can just look at me and practically sum up my life at home![/B][/I]” Wait… What, her mouth is isn’t moving, I don’t get this; unless I’m… Symantha cleared her throat and asked me if she could continue her documentation, I told her to keep it going, that’s when she pushed record on the datapad and put her hands on my chest and pressed lightly. “[B][I]Right lung… Left lung…[/B][/I]” I exhaled, trying my best not to feel awkward as her hands continued to examine how much of me was left. I’m hoping she’d give me an answer to how much of me remained after surgery. “[B][I]One, two, three, four ribs on the right side… And, three on the left. The texture of your skin still feels like skin to the touch but if I look closer, I can see evidence that they stuck something between you… Like they ripped out the parietal peritoneum and replaced it with Kevlar. Amazing that your musculature remains the way you kept it before the incident. Nice and fit, with the six pack like I remembered.[/B][/I]” Bulletproofing? Why would I need such a thing, who did this to me? Could it be tied to the publication of my incident? Her hands continued to work around my body, down to my legs now. “[B][I]Well, I can tell you that your femur, tibia and fibula are organic… But your patella, tarsals and metatarsals are not , they’re much denser than bone… Maybe more Kevlar?[/B][/I]” “[B][I]If those are Kevlar, then why can I still bend? Possibly carbon fiber?[/B][/I]” I asked, Symantha hushed me and turned me around. Her hands were now on my back, and my spine. “[B][I]There’s more dense material in C2, C4 and C5…God, has anyone told you how amazingly fit you are?[/B][/I]” Her hands continued along my back, while my mind wondered what life would be like if Symantha was the one to settle with. I can see us, living happily in this same city, same mansion, but we’d be out of the service then. I’d be working on music and she’d be cooking endlessly. That girl really loves to cook, there’s never a time when I visit her where she’s never got some sort of cooking utensil in her hand. “[B][I]She’s great; wouldn’t give her up for anything in the world.[/B][/I]” I murmured, as she turned me around again. Symantha was surprised that the doctors managed to salvage what they could, she said the amount of damage I received would have killed a normal person; she turned off her datapad and started eyeing me as I put my shirt on. I think she has something for the looks, I can’t help that I’m half Spanish and half Russian. One side is forever endowed with charm and good looks and the other is fueled by perseverance and strength. “[B][I]How did you do it? How did you survive and keep your Spanish accent?[/B][/I]” Symantha asked me “[B][I]I guess my lineage has something to do with it, you know how they say the Russians don’t go down without a fight… As for the accent, I guess the galaxy doesn’t have enough mestizos.[/B][/I]” I answered, all of a sudden I realized that we were really close to each other. That’s when the AI chirped in asking if I wanted to examine the case’s victim. [B][U]Chapter IV[/B][/U] [I]Extreme remedies are appropriate for extreme diseases[/I] – Hippocrates I walked out of the DNA lab down to my favorite place in the entire complex, the morgue. Cold and quiet; to be honest, I think the loudest thing I’ve ever heard in my body fridge would be the saw opening up the skull to determine if a subdural hematoma (blood clot in the brain) was the cause of death. The morgue’s mech assistants were heaving the body onto my table as I was walking in and whistling that song Down by Blink 182, I know it’s relatively dated but it’s pretty damn good. “[B][I]What do we have here?[/B][/I]” I asked as I stretched my fingers, before I could begin the examination itself, my internal computer began analyzing my subject, although I didn’t get any identification it did give me cause of death though. Electrical burns and multiple ballistics wounds within the torso due to the shrapnel of an electromagnetic pulse grenade; I also noted that were various tool marks along the forearms and there was signs of conjunctiva petechiae (bloodshot eyes), along with bruising on the neck consistent with strangulation. Judging by the depth of the wounds on his arms, the strangulation and the EMP grenade to the stomach, I’ve concluded that this guy was tortured. My question now is by whom? I can’t think of any crime syndicates within the city or state, who would go as far as blowing up their victim once they’re proved to be useless... Since this autopsy was easy, I’ve ruled this one as a homicide. I reached over the table for my camera to take reference photos, when I heard something fall to the floor. A soft pinging noise, followed by a high pitched sustaining beep, my internal computer had shown me the hazardous materials symbol. Then an explosion, I could feel massive amounts of electricity surging through my body as another grenade exploded, I could see the small flash from the grenade and the lab’s safety systems kicking in then, I blacked out. [I]I’m screaming in pain as the doctors are wheeling me through the ER ward, with rapid fire speech and the morphine slowly flooding my endocrine system, they pushed my gurney through numerous doors until they stopped in a very cold and bright operating theatre. I can still hear the numerous voices all talking at once, and some a much more agitated tone. I can hardly see the bright lights and silhouettes of the numerous surgeons. “[B]Dr. Shepard, can you hear me?[/B]” one of the voices asked, in a calm and soothing tone, how could she be so unperturbed in a situation like this? I wondered. I groaned and she took that as a yes, the questions continued. “[B]Are you in any pain?[/B]” “[B]Well my arms are missing and my legs are broken, how DO you think I feel?[/B]” I replied in a sarcastically agitated tone. “[B]Can you tell me how this happened, Alexander?[/B]” “[B]I was driving back to the lab and along the SR821; this big rig cuts across three lanes and fishtails my Camaro. The rest goes by too fast for me to remember.[/B]” I can hear the sound of two surgical saws powering up and more of that rapid fire speech, sounding more worried this time. The saws were getting closer to the remains of my arms. “[B]No, wait… what are you going to do with those?[/B]” I asked nervously “[B]Do not worry, Alexander; this won’t hurt a bit.[/B]” The calming voice reassured me. “[B]Whatever you---- AHHHHHHH![/B]” I screamed as the saws were working their way through the bone, muscle and bits of flesh. I could feel spots of my cold blood hitting my face, I could smell the burning friction of the saws spinning their way through the bone, I could hear the voices becoming more distressed but now they were worried, as I looked around I could see the silhouetted hands coming down on my torso and felt this small but sharp pain running through my chest. That’s when the morphine kicked in, as the hands took some sort of nail and hammer contraption and in one swift pound they managed to break open my ribcage. As I was fading out, the voice reassured me again “[B]Alexander, do not fear; for you’re now in the hands of one of Miami’s best surgeons.[/B][/I]”[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]It's been awhile since I've made a thread about anything; now seems like a good time to break that silence. Over the spring holiday I got back into writting this story that was supposed to be done last semester for my forensics course, but I got lazy and never finished it. (although I passed that course with an A-) To kill time here at home, I decided to give it another try and this is what I've come up with so far. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I have been writting this. Feel free to critique the story, I need more ideas on where this should go. _______________________________ [B][U]Chapter I[/B][/U] [I]Experience is one thing you can’t get for nothing[/I] – Oscar Wilde Water, it’s a calming placebo of sorts for me, but for others it can be a cold fear that stops them in their tracks… Personally, I find it to be better when it’s hot but, at least its running--- Right? I hear a loud thud, shouting and constant throbbing. The throbbing grew closer, the voices were louder and clearer; the water became colder and eventually it receded. “[B][I]Shepard, Shepard… Are you still in there?[/B][/I]” one of the voices inquired, as the two people who stormed the shower stall helped me up. I tried to say something but instead coughed up about a cup’s worth of water and gasped. My vision slowly blurred into focus and the cybernetics came back online as I tried to put a name with a face, I heard the other one relay back to some sort of HQ that I was recovered and in the process of being escorted out of the crime scene. I began taking stock of my being, everything felt fine; except the fact that I still had those new arms and eyes that my benefactor had given me. I didn’t want any of this but who was I to say no? I mean I was out for quite some time as they put it, after my incident. I let out a sigh of relief that I was found; that’s when three agents from The Corporation came into the bathroom and threw me onto a stretcher. “[B][I]Wait, where are you taking him? He might have evidence![/B][/I]” Relay insisted, while the other two Corp suits started fastening me to the stretcher as I began to struggle. “[B][I]Hold on, this isn’t right! I didn’t do it! Maybe we can talk this out![/B][/I]” I screamed but the Corp suits carried on with drugging me up and wheeling me out of the hotel room. “[B][I]What do we do with him?[/B][/I]” I heard as my cybernetics began to shut down and my body grew weaker, the leader of the pack laughed and said, “[B][I]He knows too much about the mission, the solution is elementary… We kill him.[/B][/I]” My name is Alexander Shepard and 14 days ago, I was the only thing standing between us and total annihilation. [B][U]Chapter II[/B][/U] [I]Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication[/I] – Leonardo Da Vinci The buzz of my answering machine woke me up this morning; it was the sweet sound of my coworker, Symantha Laurent, once again with a wakeup call but this one seemed a little more concerned than her usual ones… “[B][I]Hey Mr. Shepard, it’s the 18th of June 2027… Just calling to get you up this fine Friday morning… The doctors told me that they’re reactivating you today; I wanted to call and be the first to hear how you’re doing. You really left me worried after your incident… Since you aren’t picking up the phone. I guess you’re not up yet. Well, I’ll see you at the lab![/B][/I]” The tape clicked and announced that was the end of all incoming messages as I got up and slowly shuffled to the panoramic windows of my Miami mansion; the house’s AI began to retract the shutters while my new eyes began to saturate my line of sight with the blinding flood of sunlight… I sighed in relief as the optics activated the protective UV lenses. When I retracted the lenses, I looked at what the hell those doctors had done to me. New arms; new eyes and a retracting blade in my left forearm popped out as I wondered how much of me was left to be organic. Once my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, I looked out into the city’s skyline, nothing in my city seemed to adapt to this new fangled façade the rest of the world had taken. Most of the original architecture has remained the same since the start of the 21st century, albeit… There are some slight renovations to help ease the city into the current state of the time; like these pesky Virtual Interfaces that pop up almost anywhere and bother with assistance which really isn’t needed, along with mechs that do the simple mundane jobs and the influx of intergalactic residents. As I got dressed my mind began to slip in and out of the event; I can hear the crushing of the metal and the desperate scramble of traffic trying to get out of the way, I can feel the car getting airborne and landing in a skid sunroof first, I can smell the smoke and fire from the wreckage. I can taste my own blood coming out of my mouth. Voices, worried and in a panic--- they’re coming closer… One of them emits a gruesome scream, I look around to see why this person is screaming and, I try my best to hold in my own fear… As I see my arms ripped from my body about 10 feet from me. Once I snap from my trance-like nightmare; I notice that I’m sitting in my new car with the engine ready to leave for work… “[B][I]What the hell brings all the aliens to Miami anyway?[/B][/I]” I wondered to myself out loud as I peeled out of my neighbourhood and onto the freeway towards the crime lab.[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"] [B][I][U]Anakoni Stark[/B][/I][/U] [B]Who:[/B] Member since 27Mar06 [B]Where:[/B] - Joined in London in 06 - Left to Vegas for three months in 07 - Moved to Los Angeles in 08 for six months - July08 - Present: Living life in Miami, FL. [B]What:[/B] Currently studying to get a BA in psychology; also working on my writing (you guys can read my latest project [URL="http://otakuboards.com/showthread.php?t=61040][B][I][U]here[/B][/I][/U][/URL]) and I've met the most perfect girl who's stealing me from a hermit-like life in front of a monitor. [B]When (Back Then):[/B] As I read my older posts, I realised how much of an obnoxious high school freshman I was and how much I tried to desparately fit in, and I do feel really lame for trying to do so. I spent alot of my time in the lounge discussing mundane and ordinary things that always got pushed to the side; I'm pretty sure you guys remember how much I loved indie-rock, but now that love has kind of quietly subsided as it now interpolates with electro/trance. [B]Why:[/B] I just kind of slip back in and out to see what's what; if anything's changed (or remembered me for that matter) [B]Favourite Things About The OB:[/B] Although I've met only a few, I've managed to learn quite a bit from my interactions with them; without those people (or the boards for that matter) I wouldn't of survived high school and gone onto college... Here's to another four more years everyone. - x[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]I opened my blinds this morning about 0900hrs and I was blinded by the amount of sunlight that flooded my room. Great to know that winter's finally over; even better that the temperature will be going up soon... Not so great that I'm still suffering from a cold. -____-'[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]After playing the [STRIKE]lackluster[/STRIKE] somewhat interesting [B][I][U]Biohazard 5[/B][/I][/U]; I have to say that Wesker is once again my new favourite villain. Not because [SPOILER]he's practically immortal til the end of the game[/SPOILER] and he has that odd accent... It's due to the odd accent that he delivers the most hilarious lines about a plague I've ever heard. Wesker: I have [B][I]Uroboros[/B][/I]... And nothing can stop me! Stark: I'm sorry Wesker, but it sounds like you have an STD... I can't take you seriously anymore.[/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]Would it be considered some sort of irony to be all: "[B][I]Holy crap! I just got God Of War III![/B][/I]" then coming down with some sort of head cold a day after playing the game?[/FONT]

[quote name='Zen'][size=1] I'm a big fan of his track "Ghosts 'n' Stuff" and a few others. I'm a big electro-style techno fan, with the 'whompier' beats and samples, like Justice, Daft Punk, and Bloody Beetroots. A lil' Dubstep is nice also.[/size][/QUOTE] [FONT="Times New Roman"]Speaking of The Bloody Beetroots, my ipod decided to pick on this song.[YOUTUBE="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvNTrvJorbs"] Butter by The Bloody Beetroots[/YOUTUBE] I have to say [B][I][U]Roborama[/B][/I][/U] is a great album. This track in particular gets me through most of my parkour runnings.[/FONT]

[SIZE="2"][FONT="Times New Roman"]I've been out of this loop for awhile, during my concurrent browsings, I've been streaming [B][I][U] Random Album Title[/B][/I][/U] by [B][I] deadmau5[/B][/I]. It's a break from the frantic and high energy music everyone around here used to know me for; it's interesting.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT="Times New Roman"]It now takes me a couple seconds to come up with positive, netural and negative replies for everyday conversations. Thanks [B][U]Mass Effect II[/B][/U]. -______-'[/FONT]

[IMG]http://i308.photobucket.com/albums/kk326/T_Stark/recent.jpg[/IMG] [SIZE=1]It's been awhile since I've been here, hasnt it? Yes, I do own a camaro now. Inherited just for showing up at a family reunion. I aso realise that I didnt undo the red effect.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]For some odd reason, I feel like the track [B][I]Run[/B][/I] by [B][I] Snow Patrol[/B][/I] kind of sums up alot of everything that I'm feeling since my little sister had passed away recently. It also causes that annoying [B][I][U][COLOR=Red] YOINK[/B][/I][/U][/COLOR] feeling in the back of my mind after going through a violent breakup. I know I should let go and move on, but there's part of me that does not want to.[/SIZE]

[CENTER][SIZE=1][B] Now:[/B] Ares [B] Artist:[/B] Villians [B] Album:[/B] Intimacy: Remixed[/CENTER] The album doesnt drop for another five weeks, but I did manage to get my hand on most of the remixes, and I really am digging what I'm hearing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE="1"]Not alot of stuff under my bed... 1) A strangely neat stack of notebooks 2) A pair of drumsticks on top of said notebooks 3) My acoustic guitar 4) My "outdated" Stratocaster on top of my acoustic 5) (sometimes) my puppy, as she likes to sleep there when my other dog has already jumped onto my bed 6) A pair of adidas gym shorts 7) A pair of Quiksilver slippers on top of the gym shorts It's like someone has been playing tetris under my bed with my belongings... o_0[/SIZE]

[url=http://profile.mygamercard.net/Anakoni+Stark][img]http://card.mygamercard.net/Anakoni+Stark.png[/img][/url]

[SIZE=1] I think that Obstacle I by Interpol has some way of relating with alot of people, well at least those who've heard it. [CENTER][B][U]Obstacle I[/B][/U] By Interpol I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips We can cap the old times, make playing only logical harm We can cap the old lines, make playing that nothing else will change But she can read, Oh, she's bad It's different now that I'm poor and aging. I'll never see this face again You go stabbing yourself in the neck We can find new ways of living make playing only logical harm And we can top the old times, clay-making that nothing else will change But she can read, Oh, she's bad It's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again You go stabbing yourself in the neck But it's different now that I'm poor and aging, I'll never see this place again And you go stabbing yourself in the neck It's in the way that she poses, it's in the things that she puts in my head Her stories are boring and stuff, she's always calling my bluff She puts, she puts the weights into my little heart And she gets in my room and she takes it apart She puts the weights into my little heart I said she puts the weights into my little heart She packs it away It's in the way that she walks Her heaven is never enough She puts the weights in my heart She puts, oh she puts the weights into my little heart[/SIZE][/CENTER]

[SIZE=1]I rented the game, and it's great, the whole free running aspect is awesome (for the most part) but the combat feels half baked and the paths are a little too linear for me, I mean it's a free running game, it shouldnt have only one direct paths to the red doors. -___-' only thing that really gets to me is, the massive headaches after playing the game for at least an hour I'm usually popping a few painkillers and crashing on my couch, only to wake up in the middle of the night, ready to play it again.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1][CENTER][B] Now:[/B] Idioteque [B] Artist:[/B] Radiohead [B] Album:[/B] Kid A best song ever[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y9UkgkzUkUA"][B][I].[/URL][/B][/I][/SIZE][/CENTER]

[SIZE=1] Like, I normally do, I play the daylights out of [B][I][U] Rock Band II[/B][/I][/U], it never gets old. but I picked up [B][U][I] Dead Space[/B][/I][/U] about three weeks ago, and it's a great game that focuses on scaring the [spoiler] ****[/spoiler] out of you with bloody disgusting enimies and boss fights that heighten the sense of claustrophobia the enviroment offers. I'm also playing [B][I][U] Gears Of War II[/B][/I][/U] with a friend, and we've managed to get to Act IV in one day on normal, I cant believe that we'll finish it by tommorow; the story is great, but the gameplay is still the same from the orignal, which I have to get used to, again. only drawback to [B][I][U] Gears II[/B][/I][/U] is the vehicle section, which frustrated not only me, but my team mate, and I couldnt believe that Epic tried to [spoiler] pull at people's heartstrings by throwing the whole Dom/Maria subplot into the game, I know it humanizes the whole war concept of the game but I could of done without it. one reason is because it made my teammate cry her eyes out for a good thirty minutes.[/spoiler] but never the less it's a good game, and I cant wait til we get around to the hoarde mode.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1] me as of 08Sept08:[/SIZE] [IMG]http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh7/Felix_Freeman/S5300026-1-1.jpg[/IMG]

[SIZE=1][CENTER][B] Now:[/B] Better Than Heaven [B] Artist:[/B] Bloc Party [B] Album:[/B] Intimacy[/CENTER] The first half of the track is very dark and bumpy, electronic blips trailed by a thick bassline and echo-y guitars with the xylophone thrown in for good measure. Then after the 2min50sec mark, the band makes a return to form with a violently dance punk fueled interlude, I think this is the standout track of the album which showcases an equal balance between their new electronic radiohead-esque sound and their catchy dance punk roots.[/SIZE]