19
It's been a pretty good day today. I finally finished my first ever (and absolutely terrible) Gundam SEED 1/144 High Grade Model. The Calamity Gundam, piloted by Orga Sabnak.
(Seriously, I went to a course on Gunpla* modeling, and they already explained that everything I did on this model is so wrong. Luckily my next models, the CGUE type DEEP arms, the Forbidden Gundam, the Destiny Gundam, The Dreadnought** Gundam, the Destiny Gundam***, and the Strike Noir Gundam will be far, far better with all the info I'm learning)
After finishing that model I crashed for a bit at my sisters, and then went off to Metrotown (A popular BC mall. Way too popular, mind you) Skip ahead a bit, I picked up the first Invader Zim DVD for my mom, and finally designed the layout of her present. It's going to be a scavenger hunt with her present at the very end. It all went swimmingly. In fact it went so well, that I feel I needed to get some writing out, so here it is, the first Janus story that has been public in quite some time.
Rain-Soaked Tile
"Could you pick up some eggs while you're out?"
My sister asked, her voice carrying just above the satisfied giggles of her young child. With a grin I responded that I could and promptly left, the door swinging shut behind me and settling in with a satisfied click. With a slow and steady movement I pulled my heavy coat over my shoulders and pressed the 'play' button on my PSP, instaneously my mind was filled with the soothing sounds of Pachabel's Canon in D minor Smiling I set on my way down the long hallway.
The elevator slid open with a slight hiss, dingy and badly lit it trembled slightly as I stepped inside and made my floor selection. With a jerk it dropped, rattling and shaking all the way, my stomach churned but remained steady, finallly with a last shake the doors slid open and stepped out on the ground floor, the grey sky and dreary weather plainly in sight. With a small sigh I heaved the door open and stepped out into a blast of wind and rain. With a glance skywards I wished I had brought an umbrella from home--unfortunately home was many miles away, and across a bridge. Oh well, C'est La Vie.
I noted with some chagrin that the music had shifted from Pachabel to a more fitting and morose tune, the single working headphone on my machine streaming out tales of woe. Slightly perturbed at this change in background noise I shifted my eyes downards, watching as the rain pitter-pattered off the soaking wet pavement. What a great day to be outside, huh?
The cars and traffic whirled by, their lights gleaming crimson and gold through the mist of the rain, there were very few people on the sidewalk with me--few enough that I felt I could indulge myself in a hidden pleasure, with a small, reserved smile I opened my mouth and began to sing along with Satori Negishi to a personal favourite of mine Hoshi No Tobira of Gundam SEED Destiny: Stargazer fame. A few more tracks, more rain, a constant deluge of the stuff just pouring down. More songs, more singing and then people started showing up, slowly at first, as is always the case but soon they were filling the sidewalks. I sighed, of course I knew it would happen but nevertheless the dreamer never wants to be woken when the dream is satisfying.
Finally I arrived at the skytrain station, a monument of bricks and simple technology, guided by remote computers and a team of highly trained professionals in a tower far from the remote station I was boarding at. Nervously I felt in my pocket for my sister's buspass, satisfied it was still in my pocket where I had left I ascended the rough stone staircase and waited on the platform, happily breathing in the fresh, wet air.
In a flash of motion and colour the skytrain arrived, touting the location to which I wished to travel. Seeing the crowded exterior I took my favourite position near the sliding doors and leaned against the transparent plastic 'window' which divided those sitting from those who, like me, chose to stand instead. The trademark tones came over the speaker and with a sudden lurch we were off.
Stations flew by, people flew by, places flew by. People I didn't know, places I knew but didn't care about, places I did know and did care about, people I thought I knew, and stations that I vaguely remembered in the recesses of my mind. Every time the doors slid open with their serpentine hiss I became so aware of the vibrancy and life within everything, from the cold white metal that composed the many stations, to the faded yellow warning paint on the slick tile, and every time the doors slid shut the thick plastic windows muted everything, turning the bright into the dull. I watched this all with an indescribable feeling.
Finally I was one station before my terminus location; a crackle over the loudspeakers and the computerized female voice informed us of the locale we were pulling into. I closed my eyes and allowed the sounds of the train to wash over me and when I opened them something within me gave a tug.
There was a sight, indescribable, really that in my many years of riding the skyrain I had never seen, and may never see again. The car I was in was near the edge of the station, far from the protective sheet metal that made up the brunt of this paticular stop, no, I was in a place lit only by the natural, grey, light from the sky. Rain-soaked tile split only by two metal poles was all I could see at first, and then--then directly across from me, crossing that Rain-soaked tile, and on the other side of those metal poles, holding up their weak sheets of plastic was another train just like mine.
I'm sure it seems absurd and even a bit silly, but there was a train exactly like mine directly opposite to me, both of our doors were open, there was someone standing in my exact location and it suddenly struck me how amazing it was. I could see them and they could see me, and there was some sort of connection, some primal, human connection. Somehow across that rain-soaked tile I discovered the feeling of...humanity.
I don't know how long we stayed there, the train silently humming as the influx and eflux of passengers continued, I can't imagine it was very long. But after what seemed like an eternity of a second the doors slid shut on both trains. The connection was cut and simultaneously both trains pulled out of the station.
And the rain continued to pour.
My apologies on the story, it's a little rough, but it's not really for anything but me. You're simply getting the chance to peer into my head.
*GUNdam PLAstic models
** That's how it's officially spelled, oh Engrish, how I love thee.
*** This is the coolest Gundam in the world, that is all.
(Seriously, I went to a course on Gunpla* modeling, and they already explained that everything I did on this model is so wrong. Luckily my next models, the CGUE type DEEP arms, the Forbidden Gundam, the Destiny Gundam, The Dreadnought** Gundam, the Destiny Gundam***, and the Strike Noir Gundam will be far, far better with all the info I'm learning)
After finishing that model I crashed for a bit at my sisters, and then went off to Metrotown (A popular BC mall. Way too popular, mind you) Skip ahead a bit, I picked up the first Invader Zim DVD for my mom, and finally designed the layout of her present. It's going to be a scavenger hunt with her present at the very end. It all went swimmingly. In fact it went so well, that I feel I needed to get some writing out, so here it is, the first Janus story that has been public in quite some time.
Rain-Soaked Tile
"Could you pick up some eggs while you're out?"
My sister asked, her voice carrying just above the satisfied giggles of her young child. With a grin I responded that I could and promptly left, the door swinging shut behind me and settling in with a satisfied click. With a slow and steady movement I pulled my heavy coat over my shoulders and pressed the 'play' button on my PSP, instaneously my mind was filled with the soothing sounds of Pachabel's Canon in D minor Smiling I set on my way down the long hallway.
The elevator slid open with a slight hiss, dingy and badly lit it trembled slightly as I stepped inside and made my floor selection. With a jerk it dropped, rattling and shaking all the way, my stomach churned but remained steady, finallly with a last shake the doors slid open and stepped out on the ground floor, the grey sky and dreary weather plainly in sight. With a small sigh I heaved the door open and stepped out into a blast of wind and rain. With a glance skywards I wished I had brought an umbrella from home--unfortunately home was many miles away, and across a bridge. Oh well, C'est La Vie.
I noted with some chagrin that the music had shifted from Pachabel to a more fitting and morose tune, the single working headphone on my machine streaming out tales of woe. Slightly perturbed at this change in background noise I shifted my eyes downards, watching as the rain pitter-pattered off the soaking wet pavement. What a great day to be outside, huh?
The cars and traffic whirled by, their lights gleaming crimson and gold through the mist of the rain, there were very few people on the sidewalk with me--few enough that I felt I could indulge myself in a hidden pleasure, with a small, reserved smile I opened my mouth and began to sing along with Satori Negishi to a personal favourite of mine Hoshi No Tobira of Gundam SEED Destiny: Stargazer fame. A few more tracks, more rain, a constant deluge of the stuff just pouring down. More songs, more singing and then people started showing up, slowly at first, as is always the case but soon they were filling the sidewalks. I sighed, of course I knew it would happen but nevertheless the dreamer never wants to be woken when the dream is satisfying.
Finally I arrived at the skytrain station, a monument of bricks and simple technology, guided by remote computers and a team of highly trained professionals in a tower far from the remote station I was boarding at. Nervously I felt in my pocket for my sister's buspass, satisfied it was still in my pocket where I had left I ascended the rough stone staircase and waited on the platform, happily breathing in the fresh, wet air.
In a flash of motion and colour the skytrain arrived, touting the location to which I wished to travel. Seeing the crowded exterior I took my favourite position near the sliding doors and leaned against the transparent plastic 'window' which divided those sitting from those who, like me, chose to stand instead. The trademark tones came over the speaker and with a sudden lurch we were off.
Stations flew by, people flew by, places flew by. People I didn't know, places I knew but didn't care about, places I did know and did care about, people I thought I knew, and stations that I vaguely remembered in the recesses of my mind. Every time the doors slid open with their serpentine hiss I became so aware of the vibrancy and life within everything, from the cold white metal that composed the many stations, to the faded yellow warning paint on the slick tile, and every time the doors slid shut the thick plastic windows muted everything, turning the bright into the dull. I watched this all with an indescribable feeling.
Finally I was one station before my terminus location; a crackle over the loudspeakers and the computerized female voice informed us of the locale we were pulling into. I closed my eyes and allowed the sounds of the train to wash over me and when I opened them something within me gave a tug.
There was a sight, indescribable, really that in my many years of riding the skyrain I had never seen, and may never see again. The car I was in was near the edge of the station, far from the protective sheet metal that made up the brunt of this paticular stop, no, I was in a place lit only by the natural, grey, light from the sky. Rain-soaked tile split only by two metal poles was all I could see at first, and then--then directly across from me, crossing that Rain-soaked tile, and on the other side of those metal poles, holding up their weak sheets of plastic was another train just like mine.
I'm sure it seems absurd and even a bit silly, but there was a train exactly like mine directly opposite to me, both of our doors were open, there was someone standing in my exact location and it suddenly struck me how amazing it was. I could see them and they could see me, and there was some sort of connection, some primal, human connection. Somehow across that rain-soaked tile I discovered the feeling of...humanity.
I don't know how long we stayed there, the train silently humming as the influx and eflux of passengers continued, I can't imagine it was very long. But after what seemed like an eternity of a second the doors slid shut on both trains. The connection was cut and simultaneously both trains pulled out of the station.
And the rain continued to pour.
My apologies on the story, it's a little rough, but it's not really for anything but me. You're simply getting the chance to peer into my head.
*GUNdam PLAstic models
** That's how it's officially spelled, oh Engrish, how I love thee.
*** This is the coolest Gundam in the world, that is all.
