Dale sat in the pool of light cast by the lamp at the table in the otherwise dark hotel room. Arranged in front of him in order of diminishing size were a bottle, a shot glass, and a cybereye. Dale picked up the cybereye and stared into it with his left as if looking for something within. “Fucking fate,” Dale said, downing the shot. He put down the eye, and stood up. “All-father my ass,” he said, clicking off the light.
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Well, I was hoping that they wouldn’t realize that it was war until they’d already lost. Now it begins. Well, that didn’t go as badly as it could have. Most of the city is still standing, after all. We didn’t exactly make the best impression on the JET members. Even the P-POCers think that LA is a place to be afraid of. There is something here, though. It is something I can’t seem to put in to words. It’s a place of breathtaking highs, and crushing lows. On some level the contrast itself is almost beautiful. In any case, it’s my home. |
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