I don't own The Matrix or it's characters, or the plot. I own THIS
plot. This is my 1st attempt at a Matrix fic in Trinity's POV, so spare
me. I'm not used to this. (Check out my other fics if you want.) Please
R&R.
A pale haired woman's face looms out of the darkness, her eyes tinted by orange sunglasses. "She looks like a ghost", I think to myself. She doesn't say anything, just motions for me to follow her down the dark alleyway that we're standing in. I wonder how much powder it took to get her skin and hair to glow like that.
What is THE MATRIX?
The question automatically enters my mind. Part of me wants to know- the part that led me here; the part that doesn't have second thoughts about anything- risks, life, death... that part is nurtured by thrill, curiosity, and (sadly), sheer ignorance of danger or whatever obstacles lay ahead of me.
The other part actually has some sense; could care less about the whole thing; could care less about wasting my time with a woman I don't know when I could be at home hacking. Getting money. But "THE MATRIX", as hackers called it, had gnawed at my mind ever since I met Morpheus. (Online, that is). Curiosity had gotten the best of me though, so here I am...
A black Lincoln Towncar pulls up and interrupts my pointless thoughts of rambling. The woman climbs in the front passenger seat while someone sitting in the back opens the door on my side. I am obviously expected to travest. After settling in the back seat, I reach out to close the door, but it isn't there. Oh. Suicide doors. Very nice. Feeling stupid and a little uncomfortable in the midst of the car's stiff silence, I reach to the left, a little behind me, and shut the door.
Are the suicide doors an intentional foreshadowing of these future days? I wonder this, and the likeliness of my observation grows as I study the people in the car. The driver: a man with a black ponytail, PowderWoman in the passenger seat, and this guy beside the back left window with a bald head and a goatee. They all look grim- not sad, just overly serious.
They look like they had just come from-or are going to- a funeral. I am very uncomfortable, but that is the least of my worries- I am to find out later. The car starts down the long dark road.... Right before my steady fall down this rabbit hole takes a turn for the worse and plummets down nonstop into a mind-bending, sane-smashing, morbid fall that will last a lifetime. Now there is no way to go back. If only "suicide" doors were possible now.....
Well that's chapter 1 of my first Matrix fic. Please give your take on it. Good, or trash? Constructive criticism accepted too, but please no flames.
A pale haired woman's face looms out of the darkness, her eyes tinted by orange sunglasses. "She looks like a ghost", I think to myself. She doesn't say anything, just motions for me to follow her down the dark alleyway that we're standing in. I wonder how much powder it took to get her skin and hair to glow like that.
What is THE MATRIX?
The question automatically enters my mind. Part of me wants to know- the part that led me here; the part that doesn't have second thoughts about anything- risks, life, death... that part is nurtured by thrill, curiosity, and (sadly), sheer ignorance of danger or whatever obstacles lay ahead of me.
The other part actually has some sense; could care less about the whole thing; could care less about wasting my time with a woman I don't know when I could be at home hacking. Getting money. But "THE MATRIX", as hackers called it, had gnawed at my mind ever since I met Morpheus. (Online, that is). Curiosity had gotten the best of me though, so here I am...
A black Lincoln Towncar pulls up and interrupts my pointless thoughts of rambling. The woman climbs in the front passenger seat while someone sitting in the back opens the door on my side. I am obviously expected to travest. After settling in the back seat, I reach out to close the door, but it isn't there. Oh. Suicide doors. Very nice. Feeling stupid and a little uncomfortable in the midst of the car's stiff silence, I reach to the left, a little behind me, and shut the door.
Are the suicide doors an intentional foreshadowing of these future days? I wonder this, and the likeliness of my observation grows as I study the people in the car. The driver: a man with a black ponytail, PowderWoman in the passenger seat, and this guy beside the back left window with a bald head and a goatee. They all look grim- not sad, just overly serious.
They look like they had just come from-or are going to- a funeral. I am very uncomfortable, but that is the least of my worries- I am to find out later. The car starts down the long dark road.... Right before my steady fall down this rabbit hole takes a turn for the worse and plummets down nonstop into a mind-bending, sane-smashing, morbid fall that will last a lifetime. Now there is no way to go back. If only "suicide" doors were possible now.....
Well that's chapter 1 of my first Matrix fic. Please give your take on it. Good, or trash? Constructive criticism accepted too, but please no flames.