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Ta-metru_defender

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Blog Entries posted by Ta-metru_defender

  2. Ta-metru_defender
    I'm not sure why there's this vague sense of anger/disappointment I get emanating from the internet (besides the fact that it's, yanno, the internet).
     
     
     
     
    I understand that some things remain consistent no matter your choices, and to that, well, it's certainly different. But it's an ending and, well, I guess it ended the way it had/ought to.
     
    And now, a rant on why the ending made sense
     
    Control is a big theme of the third game. The Illusive Man trying to gain control, Reapers trying to gain control, Humanity trying to gain control of their fate.
     
    And, of course, you controlling Shepard
     
    But...
     
  4. Ta-metru_defender

    Home?

    By Ta-metru_defender,

    Currently Rocking Out To: Meant to Live, Switchfoot
    Mood: Happy?
     
    I'm writing this from the Kiosk on board the Logos II.
    To think, two years ago I thought I'd never see this place again.
     
    The Kiosk (a central room, crossroads, like a living room), along with the rest of the ship has changed.
    For starters, the Kiosk is different. The couches are gone, and the arm chairs are in their place. I'm sitting in an armchair that I've sat in countless times. The notice board is all but empty, so many things that would so often be there are gone. There's only a few people passing by... It's sooo... empty.
    Two years ago, the ship would've been sailing. A soccer ball was being kicked around by the few kids on the ship. Some of the adults watched and laughed as we chased the ball around. How did that work? What was the goal posts I can now stretch out with my arms and just about touch the sides. The ceiling is now centimeters above my head, I almost have to duck to avoid sprinklers now.
     
    Every time I step into a hallway or room I'm disorientated. Everything's off. I'm too high, the angle's wrong. I went down to the school my first day back. It's still there... But it's not the school. What had once been my classroom is now filled with boxes, I can't see the desk where I worked on the computer so many times, nor the desks where I built a castle with LEGO once with James.
    The library is full of boxes too. Gone is the TV and the numerous books, many of which I had read. The computer which Laura and I so often fought over is gone, too.
    The other class are still there, stripped of furniture. It all seems so... small... My first classroom is still there, along with my desk. I check to see if my socks that I put in there my very first day are still there. They aren't. I think I took them out when I left. I went out through the Book Hold, I walked there everyday, didn't I? Price guns are still there. The dining room is similar. All the tables in the back have been taken out, a mini-kiosk is there now. My table's gone. Ha, were it Christmas of 2003 you would've seen a trio of kids playing Ligretto until 1 in the morning. The food's the same. Believe it or not, I missed it, it tasted nice tonight. Everything looks so... Different.
    I go down to the Blue/Maroon room. The stairs are as steep as ever, hah. The door handle's lower than I remember. Ah well. The TV's missing from the Maroon as are many of the chairs. But it's the same. I remember when we spent the whole night down there. That was fun. I open the fire door down there and go up another deck. All these 'short cuts' are still there, what fun.
    I go up on top, the Fun Deck's still there. They moved the swings again, ah well. The White Box is there, the nettings there... The smaller box is there, and my fish is still there. I remember when we painted that all so long ago. The Funnel Deck somehow seems sooo low... The angles off again. Much to my surprise my old bike, the one I brought from Singapore is still in there. I wonder if anyone's used it since I left.
     
    The ship's mostly the same. I still know my way around, no problem. It doesn't feel odd walking around the ship. I don't get this rush of, "hey, I'm back". It feels... Normal, right.
    Yet it's empty. People who made the ship Home are gone. Friends, Adelaide, Andrew, Esa, Laura... It's the same old hunk of floating metal, but it dosen't quite feel like Home anymore.
     
    I still love it, anyway.
     
    *sigh*
  7. Ta-metru_defender
    Practicing tossing a(n American) football around with Zarai a while ago I realized something, I can't throw one properly to save my life...
     
    TMD stared down the rows of armed executionors. Here he was destined to be executed for reasons that he himself did not know. He had been told that his sole bid for freedom would be based on his failure. The minutes tick by. A sole bead of pespiration slips slowly down his neck. On the far side of the chamber a door slides open - slowly TMD notes. Out walks a man dressed in a uniform similar to the others. A medal and stripe on his chest marks his supierior ranking. The man is carrying something behind his back. TMD waits for what seems like eons as the engimatic being walked to him. In one swift movement the man drew an object from behind his back. An official size football. TMD's eyes widened noticibly.
    "It's a football as you can see," The enigma stated sourly. "Your life will be spared if you can throw it four yards. Properly." A cold grin creeps across his face, the room tempreture drops noticably. TMD takes the oval learther-clad object in his hand. He gauges the weights. He waits a few moments, does a series of test throws. The enigmatic man's smile grins considerably. TMD hefts the ball up and throws. His arm swings forward, he adds a twist and releases the ball. TMD and the rest of the crowds' gaze follows it. The ball swings and wobbles like an injured sparrow.
    Darn
    A gunshiot fires.
    It's over.
     

     
    TMD
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