Captain N and the games/characters mentioned in this fic belong to Nintendo/Capcom.
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Shi-chan: Randomness that just hit me in a wave of nostalgia.
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Stage Clear
~By Shimegami-chan
It was a model NES-004.
I had many others, of course, but the 004 was my favorite. A grey rectangle outlined in black. Its shape was awkward, at first, but as time went on it grew to be as familiar to me as an old friend. I was a teenager then, young and old, and didn't have the slightest clue of what adventures I might have to go through for my games.
Its weight now feels to me much less than when I was sixteen and kept it on my belt. My hands are too strong for the light plastic; my thumbs too big for the buttons I once knew so well. It has rested here for some five hours now, but I have yet to rediscover that feeling of it being melded to my hand.
Instead, those hands are taking undue abuse. Between my left fore- and middle-finger has grown an angry red spot, a result of the sharp edge rubbing against my palm. My wedding ring lies on the table by the scattering of carts and magazines, temporarily left behind. My fingers ache long-forgotten pains and my wrists are stiff from being held for so long in one place.
I'm stranded.
No longer can I stand the castle music that has haunted my ears for the past two hours--navigation is so much harder than it was twenty years ago. I could recount the order of the Masters and each of their weaknesses, but I can no longer time that perfect jump over the bed of spikes. My hands are nimble, my shoulders tense, and yet each time he slips through my fingers and into destruction. Data bits fly everywhere...
Game Over.
I hit the remote in disgust, muting the sound of Blues' theme. My fingers are cramped after the long hours spent huddling here. I almost consider reaching for another cartridge, but Captain N would never have done that. Captain N would have persisted until he had jumped nimbly through the maze of disappearing blocks, and scrambled up the ladder. Captain N would have found a way.
Of course, it was that Captain N that had stored the NES in the closet in the first place, and replaced it with the more streamlined Super NES. But he couldn't have known then what the future would be like. It had always just been hidden away, "For when I feel like playing my old games."
Like now, but different.
I turn the control pad over in my hand again, rubbing my thumb across the A button. There are scratches on the side and a worn Mario sticker on the back, beside the initials 'KK' written in indelible marker. I had taken very good care of it--once I had treasured it very much. It's almost too much for me to think about, to go back to those teenager days.
Rubbing the irritated spot on my left hand, I reach forward and turn off the TV. After all, I ration, there's work to be done, the kids will be home soon; I should tidy up his mess and get ready for dinner. If they knew I'd wasted my day playing video games, what would they say?
I gather up the carts and stack them back in the closet, beside a pile of consoles, controllers, and decade-old magazines. Time to put the past behind me for a few more years.
The castle theme plays in all its 8-bit glory in my head.
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Bet you can't guess what I did all night. Cookies to anyone who can tell me what game(s) I played.
---------------------------
Shi-chan: Randomness that just hit me in a wave of nostalgia.
---------------------------
Stage Clear
~By Shimegami-chan
It was a model NES-004.
I had many others, of course, but the 004 was my favorite. A grey rectangle outlined in black. Its shape was awkward, at first, but as time went on it grew to be as familiar to me as an old friend. I was a teenager then, young and old, and didn't have the slightest clue of what adventures I might have to go through for my games.
Its weight now feels to me much less than when I was sixteen and kept it on my belt. My hands are too strong for the light plastic; my thumbs too big for the buttons I once knew so well. It has rested here for some five hours now, but I have yet to rediscover that feeling of it being melded to my hand.
Instead, those hands are taking undue abuse. Between my left fore- and middle-finger has grown an angry red spot, a result of the sharp edge rubbing against my palm. My wedding ring lies on the table by the scattering of carts and magazines, temporarily left behind. My fingers ache long-forgotten pains and my wrists are stiff from being held for so long in one place.
I'm stranded.
No longer can I stand the castle music that has haunted my ears for the past two hours--navigation is so much harder than it was twenty years ago. I could recount the order of the Masters and each of their weaknesses, but I can no longer time that perfect jump over the bed of spikes. My hands are nimble, my shoulders tense, and yet each time he slips through my fingers and into destruction. Data bits fly everywhere...
Game Over.
I hit the remote in disgust, muting the sound of Blues' theme. My fingers are cramped after the long hours spent huddling here. I almost consider reaching for another cartridge, but Captain N would never have done that. Captain N would have persisted until he had jumped nimbly through the maze of disappearing blocks, and scrambled up the ladder. Captain N would have found a way.
Of course, it was that Captain N that had stored the NES in the closet in the first place, and replaced it with the more streamlined Super NES. But he couldn't have known then what the future would be like. It had always just been hidden away, "For when I feel like playing my old games."
Like now, but different.
I turn the control pad over in my hand again, rubbing my thumb across the A button. There are scratches on the side and a worn Mario sticker on the back, beside the initials 'KK' written in indelible marker. I had taken very good care of it--once I had treasured it very much. It's almost too much for me to think about, to go back to those teenager days.
Rubbing the irritated spot on my left hand, I reach forward and turn off the TV. After all, I ration, there's work to be done, the kids will be home soon; I should tidy up his mess and get ready for dinner. If they knew I'd wasted my day playing video games, what would they say?
I gather up the carts and stack them back in the closet, beside a pile of consoles, controllers, and decade-old magazines. Time to put the past behind me for a few more years.
The castle theme plays in all its 8-bit glory in my head.
--------------------------------
Bet you can't guess what I did all night. Cookies to anyone who can tell me what game(s) I played.