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viridian, a Matrix RPG story with her character, Aeon, and Neo, and the prompt of "paramecium." No, most of you won't have any clue of the backstory here--I do not excell at bringing people up to speed, but maybe you can follow, if you like. Anyway, viridian, hope you like it, dude!
Making Strides
bytrinityvixen
*****
They stood--well, she stood, and Neo floated--before the largest maze of wires and pipes she'd ever seen. It looked like an M.C. Escher design of a jungle gym, and Aeon had a sinking feeling (where her gut would be, if they weren’t in the Construct) that that was exactly what it was.
"It's a straight shot on a bent course, that it?” She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing Neo with a glare that he sloughed off with an indifferent nod. For this training sim, she’d been uploaded wearing a gray sports bra, matching calf-length, skin-tight workout pants, and sneakers. He wore his informal get up, a green t-shirt, brown leather jacket, dark jeans, and work boots. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be going after her.
"More or less," Neo muttered, clearly disinterested. "You run, I keep time. You get one try at this." He never managed any excitement in training sims. He saved his energy for the Matrix--or so the crew told her. Since she'd yet to go back, she hadn't had the pleasure of seeing that energy expended just yet.
"Why only one?"
"Don't want to give you time to memorize the course." Almost bored, he added, "Though I supposed I could rearrange it, if you tried."
"Fuck you, too," she spat at him before throwing herself to it. Unused to physical exertion--even digital physical exertion--Aeon navigated her way over bars, under wires, around posts without too much difficulty but minus any real flair. Flair cost time, anyway, and she had a mind to break records.
"You're not thinking in three dimensions," a dull voice called from over her head, and she promptly tripped over a wire. She caught herself in time and glowered up at the white expanse to where Neo walked above the obstacle course.
"You're costing me time," she grunted even as she took his suggestion and launched herself upward; she clung to an overhanging post and rocked back and forth until she had enough momentum to carry herself over a series of low pipes. She cartwheeled over another set of wires, setting a hand or foot between each one, almost crowing when she didn’t trip up once.
"That's better," he said, though his tone suggested sarcasm. "You're still moving straight."
Aeon bit back a curse and started to zigzag through the maze of metal and wire. Her sense of direction wasn’t the best to begin with, and keeping an eye on the end wasn’t easy when she had to detour around to avoid overhead derision.
And it didn’t always work. “Predictable,” Neo called down to her, “Change up your strides. An agent could plot your movement with one eye closed.” She didn't bother to point out that he was better than an agent--reputedly--and had both of his eyes open.
She tried to tune him out, but she suspected that he led this particular sim because it was impossible to ignore him if he chose to prevent her from doing so. Her movements grew angrier: she banged her knee on a bar when she turned a corner by swinging her elbow around a post; her wrist complained as she twisted it too far in a handspring; an almost invisible wire clotheslined her ten feet from the exit. By the time she cleared the course, tucked into a roll and springing up to her feet, she had almost as many hurts as she’d come out of the jump program with.
If she had expected sympathy, she would have been disappointed. Neo blinked twice at her, and, without referring to any clock she could see, rattled off her time. "Three minutes, twenty-two seconds, oh-nine.”
Not knowing how to place that--whether it was commendation or insult--Aeon stayed quiet. He added, “I saw someone go through this in two minutes on his first time. And Trinity holds the Neb record."
There was a fucking surprise. Little Miss “Second-Is-Fine, Third-Is-Not” was the best at something else. Tank liked to brag he still got chills whenever he watched her old replays. It was a wonder they hadn’t posthumously promoted her to captain, what with how Morpheus and Neo both lionized her. Aeon wasn’t at all sorry Trinity was dead, even if it meant their side lost such a supposedly daring and unmatched fighter.
"Well, I think I did pretty good."
Neo went blank. Whatever else he was good at, Neo excelled at appearing utterly insensate when he chose. Not a trace of anything--emotion, intelligence, life--moved across his face as he stonewalled her. "You ready for the second part?"
"Second part?"
"Yeah, going backwards."
Aeon glanced at the maze and back at him a few times before she could believe he wasn't joking. With that flat monotone of his and his utter void of facial expression, she could almost believe he was pulling her leg. "You're serious?"
"Always."
Yeah, she should have figured. Being the survivor of a tragic love affair tended to leech all sense of humor from a person. That she understood how loss could do that was about the only reason she tolerated it in him. No way was she going to commiserate with him or anything, but she couldn’t disrespect his grief. He’d been the only one to seem sincere in his regrets when her sister died.
"You said we only ran these once.”
"You only get one time through on your own." A hint of mirth flickered in his eyes for a second and she caught herself before she could smirk back at him. Whatever mischief he had in mind, it probably wasn’t for her to be smiling about. "This time, I'm chasing you through it."
"Hold it," she put up a hand. "You. Are chasing me?"
"That's the plan."
"This isn't a sim I can win," she groused. "You'll catch me before I go ten steps."
Neo laughed. Actually laughed. It was the first she'd heard of him being even capable of such a sound. And, even if it was hollow and barely more than a chuckle or four, it was laughter--which was strange and out of place enough for it to seem a foreign tongue. God, how long had it been since she’d felt like laughing?
There was no keeping a smile down this time. Mock-shyly, she implored, “Paramecium?”
That was the password they’d used to identify themselves to each other when he rescued her; in the past weeks, they’d employed it as a safe-word, a means to an egress from the Construct if necessary.
He answering smile was wan but genuine. “Sorry. There's no out from a training sim unless there's an injury or an emergency.”
“What’s the point, though?”
“The point is you have to do it, and you have to do it right, or we leave you in Zion.” As an afterthought, he said, “You do get a head start.”
“This is going to teach me, what, exactly? Humility? That Neo-is-the-greatest-rah-rah-rah?”
His expression smoothed out again. She was beginning to get a read on those blank stares, though; anything that could kill amusement like that had to be awful. In a low rumble, he said, "There won't always be situations you can win, Aeon."
Tears would have threatened if she were a lesser person, but Aeon liked her pain to stay on the inside, where she could manage it, cultivate it, and keep it saved for those times it could be appeased with revenge. That was half the reason she signed with these rebels--the promise of vengeance for her sister.
"I never get involved so deep that I can't get out if I have to."
Neo's eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re out here with us now. Things change. Sometimes escape isn’t as important as giving chase.”
His logic was dead depressing but accurate all the same. As long as you stayed on the move, you couldn’t be pinned down. Relying on the possibility that eventually you would break loose was better than giving up, no matter how hopeless the situation first appeared. Hiding and running were all anybody had, except for Neo, and, as their short history together attested, even he wasn’t perfect.
“Fine,” she hissed, “You want to race? We race.”
“Good luck,” he said, unperturbed. “I’ll give you ten seconds.”
“Twenty,” she said automatically, used to these sorts of bartering sessions from her old days.
“Fifteen.”
“Done.”
“See you on the other side,” she challenged, goading him just a bit. If he could put her off her game with his ceaseless commentary, maybe she could put him off his with her attitude. It wouldn’t be the first time, and, rumor had it, given Trinity’s own attitude problems, he liked that sort of thing. And it had been a while...
Sure enough, his expression perked up a bit, almost into another tentative smile. “Sooner than that.”
As she dove into the maze again, Aeon found she wasn’t really bothered at all by the prospect of losing. Not much, anyway. Because Neo was mostly right: sometimes the chase was just more important.
viridian, a Matrix RPG story with her character, Aeon, and Neo, and the prompt of "paramecium." No, most of you won't have any clue of the backstory here--I do not excell at bringing people up to speed, but maybe you can follow, if you like. Anyway, viridian, hope you like it, dude!Making Strides
by
trinityvixenThey stood--well, she stood, and Neo floated--before the largest maze of wires and pipes she'd ever seen. It looked like an M.C. Escher design of a jungle gym, and Aeon had a sinking feeling (where her gut would be, if they weren’t in the Construct) that that was exactly what it was.
"It's a straight shot on a bent course, that it?” She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing Neo with a glare that he sloughed off with an indifferent nod. For this training sim, she’d been uploaded wearing a gray sports bra, matching calf-length, skin-tight workout pants, and sneakers. He wore his informal get up, a green t-shirt, brown leather jacket, dark jeans, and work boots. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be going after her.
"More or less," Neo muttered, clearly disinterested. "You run, I keep time. You get one try at this." He never managed any excitement in training sims. He saved his energy for the Matrix--or so the crew told her. Since she'd yet to go back, she hadn't had the pleasure of seeing that energy expended just yet.
"Why only one?"
"Don't want to give you time to memorize the course." Almost bored, he added, "Though I supposed I could rearrange it, if you tried."
"Fuck you, too," she spat at him before throwing herself to it. Unused to physical exertion--even digital physical exertion--Aeon navigated her way over bars, under wires, around posts without too much difficulty but minus any real flair. Flair cost time, anyway, and she had a mind to break records.
"You're not thinking in three dimensions," a dull voice called from over her head, and she promptly tripped over a wire. She caught herself in time and glowered up at the white expanse to where Neo walked above the obstacle course.
"You're costing me time," she grunted even as she took his suggestion and launched herself upward; she clung to an overhanging post and rocked back and forth until she had enough momentum to carry herself over a series of low pipes. She cartwheeled over another set of wires, setting a hand or foot between each one, almost crowing when she didn’t trip up once.
"That's better," he said, though his tone suggested sarcasm. "You're still moving straight."
Aeon bit back a curse and started to zigzag through the maze of metal and wire. Her sense of direction wasn’t the best to begin with, and keeping an eye on the end wasn’t easy when she had to detour around to avoid overhead derision.
And it didn’t always work. “Predictable,” Neo called down to her, “Change up your strides. An agent could plot your movement with one eye closed.” She didn't bother to point out that he was better than an agent--reputedly--and had both of his eyes open.
She tried to tune him out, but she suspected that he led this particular sim because it was impossible to ignore him if he chose to prevent her from doing so. Her movements grew angrier: she banged her knee on a bar when she turned a corner by swinging her elbow around a post; her wrist complained as she twisted it too far in a handspring; an almost invisible wire clotheslined her ten feet from the exit. By the time she cleared the course, tucked into a roll and springing up to her feet, she had almost as many hurts as she’d come out of the jump program with.
If she had expected sympathy, she would have been disappointed. Neo blinked twice at her, and, without referring to any clock she could see, rattled off her time. "Three minutes, twenty-two seconds, oh-nine.”
Not knowing how to place that--whether it was commendation or insult--Aeon stayed quiet. He added, “I saw someone go through this in two minutes on his first time. And Trinity holds the Neb record."
There was a fucking surprise. Little Miss “Second-Is-Fine, Third-Is-Not” was the best at something else. Tank liked to brag he still got chills whenever he watched her old replays. It was a wonder they hadn’t posthumously promoted her to captain, what with how Morpheus and Neo both lionized her. Aeon wasn’t at all sorry Trinity was dead, even if it meant their side lost such a supposedly daring and unmatched fighter.
"Well, I think I did pretty good."
Neo went blank. Whatever else he was good at, Neo excelled at appearing utterly insensate when he chose. Not a trace of anything--emotion, intelligence, life--moved across his face as he stonewalled her. "You ready for the second part?"
"Second part?"
"Yeah, going backwards."
Aeon glanced at the maze and back at him a few times before she could believe he wasn't joking. With that flat monotone of his and his utter void of facial expression, she could almost believe he was pulling her leg. "You're serious?"
"Always."
Yeah, she should have figured. Being the survivor of a tragic love affair tended to leech all sense of humor from a person. That she understood how loss could do that was about the only reason she tolerated it in him. No way was she going to commiserate with him or anything, but she couldn’t disrespect his grief. He’d been the only one to seem sincere in his regrets when her sister died.
"You said we only ran these once.”
"You only get one time through on your own." A hint of mirth flickered in his eyes for a second and she caught herself before she could smirk back at him. Whatever mischief he had in mind, it probably wasn’t for her to be smiling about. "This time, I'm chasing you through it."
"Hold it," she put up a hand. "You. Are chasing me?"
"That's the plan."
"This isn't a sim I can win," she groused. "You'll catch me before I go ten steps."
Neo laughed. Actually laughed. It was the first she'd heard of him being even capable of such a sound. And, even if it was hollow and barely more than a chuckle or four, it was laughter--which was strange and out of place enough for it to seem a foreign tongue. God, how long had it been since she’d felt like laughing?
There was no keeping a smile down this time. Mock-shyly, she implored, “Paramecium?”
That was the password they’d used to identify themselves to each other when he rescued her; in the past weeks, they’d employed it as a safe-word, a means to an egress from the Construct if necessary.
He answering smile was wan but genuine. “Sorry. There's no out from a training sim unless there's an injury or an emergency.”
“What’s the point, though?”
“The point is you have to do it, and you have to do it right, or we leave you in Zion.” As an afterthought, he said, “You do get a head start.”
“This is going to teach me, what, exactly? Humility? That Neo-is-the-greatest-rah-rah-rah?”
His expression smoothed out again. She was beginning to get a read on those blank stares, though; anything that could kill amusement like that had to be awful. In a low rumble, he said, "There won't always be situations you can win, Aeon."
Tears would have threatened if she were a lesser person, but Aeon liked her pain to stay on the inside, where she could manage it, cultivate it, and keep it saved for those times it could be appeased with revenge. That was half the reason she signed with these rebels--the promise of vengeance for her sister.
"I never get involved so deep that I can't get out if I have to."
Neo's eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re out here with us now. Things change. Sometimes escape isn’t as important as giving chase.”
His logic was dead depressing but accurate all the same. As long as you stayed on the move, you couldn’t be pinned down. Relying on the possibility that eventually you would break loose was better than giving up, no matter how hopeless the situation first appeared. Hiding and running were all anybody had, except for Neo, and, as their short history together attested, even he wasn’t perfect.
“Fine,” she hissed, “You want to race? We race.”
“Good luck,” he said, unperturbed. “I’ll give you ten seconds.”
“Twenty,” she said automatically, used to these sorts of bartering sessions from her old days.
“Fifteen.”
“Done.”
“See you on the other side,” she challenged, goading him just a bit. If he could put her off her game with his ceaseless commentary, maybe she could put him off his with her attitude. It wouldn’t be the first time, and, rumor had it, given Trinity’s own attitude problems, he liked that sort of thing. And it had been a while...
Sure enough, his expression perked up a bit, almost into another tentative smile. “Sooner than that.”
As she dove into the maze again, Aeon found she wasn’t really bothered at all by the prospect of losing. Not much, anyway. Because Neo was mostly right: sometimes the chase was just more important.
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