Thankings to all reviewing persons, replies are, hopefully, at the end of the chapter.
Hmm, the page setup seems somehow different, oh well, that's not important.
P.S For disclaimer purposes, I don't own any non matrix stuff that someone else owns.
Chapter 2: Unexpected Occurrence
The next part of my tale starts in pretty much the same place as the first one finished. I was still on the bus, waiting for my stop, in dire need of a piss when, rather annoyingly, the bus stopped to pick up a new passenger.
I examined the newcomer for a few seconds. Quite tall, male, short untidy hair that resembled a well used mop. He looked about eighteen or nineteen. He rested his hands on the back of the seat and seemed to stare lovingly at his own reflection. What I had here, was a fine example of pomposity.
I'd known thousands upon thousands of people like him in my high school days; it wasn't that long ago actually now that I think about it. Only eight odd years. How I hated them, always annoying, insulting and even throwing rocks at those they deemed 'inferior', (a group of which I was a not so proud member.)
Needless to say, numerous rocks to the head, ribs and stomach had all but ruined my high school days. I did manage to push one into a ditch though on one occasion, it's a small thing I know, but it improved my mood no end.
Anyway, I'm drifting from the subject, I turned my head back to the window, and he continued to stare at his own reflection.
The homeless person woke up as if by magic when we reached his stop. I wondered for a few moments how a man in his position could afford to waste money on bus journeys. This thought was quickly banished however as the bus came to life once more with an awkward crash, (the driver had, very slowly, driven into a tree.) It took us almost ten minutes to get back on the road.
Miraculously, I was able to hold my bladder until I reached my stop, which was, somewhat annoyingly, also the pompous looking teenagers stop.
I know I shouldn't have judged on appearance and bad experiences involving others, but with gallons of urine in my bladder just yearning to be free, I was, understandably irritable.
I thought he'd gone far from my sight when we finally got off the bus, which was good, because I couldn't hold it any longer. I urinated upon a nearby chestnut tree and promptly apologised to it. (Stupid I know, but if someone pissed on you wouldn't you want an apology?)
Anyway, I emerged hastily onto the street and cast a quick glance around me; no one. I started walking the last 50 meters to my house. I started thinking about the Matrix; again, it seemed to be all I thought about at the time. Then again, it was the most interesting thing I could think of to think about so I didn't really care.
My house, or the digital coding that I lived in, broke through the shroud of darkness, aided partially by a flickering street lamp. I walked to my door, inserted the key, twisted it, and all of a sudden:
"Why do you do it?"
The sudden break from the silence scarred the shit out of me. I turned around and found myself staring at the pretentious teenager from the bus.
"Where the Hell did you come from?" I asked angrily, like many people, I don't take kindly to being startled.
"You didn't answer my question. It's understandable I guess," he seated himself upon the front gate; "emotional responses cloud rational thought and consequently dictate your actions. You look confused, why?"
I paused for a few seconds. This was a highly bizarre situation, and one I was unaccustomed to. It took my brain a while to comprehend the situation and formulate an answer to the question in a witty and powerful fashion.
"I'm not used to strange people trying to argue psychology with me in the middle of the night."
"Experience makes almost everything boring. Admit it; this is the most interesting thing that has happened to you today."
"I, uh," I paused again, still trying to accept that I was having this conversation, "yes, alright it is. Goodnight."
He didn't seem to get the blindingly obvious message.
"That is because it has never happened to you before." He paused for a few seconds, "I've seen your kind before. You feel that your life is meaningless because the Matrix was revealed to you. You feel that everything in the world that was real, that meant something has been torn from you. You feel like you're in a nightmare you can't wake up from; don't you?"
"A lot of people felt like that, and a lot of people, myself included, got over it." I said this in a harsher tone of voice then I intended. It was late and I wanted above all to eat something and pass out on my bed, but at the same time, he was right, this was the most interesting thing that had happened to me all day.
He pushed himself off of the gate and began to walk towards me at a needlessly slow pace.
"Just because you can't get un-plugged, doesn't mean that you have to be stuck in your monotonous shell forever." His tone had changed, he sounded a lot like he was pleading with me, "there's another life. Another way to escape your prison."
"And how do I do that?" I asked mockingly, "by giving you my car keys?"
"No," my last sentence had apparently amused him, "by ascending."
I took a few steps towards him. This unexplained and awkward situation was becoming almost entertaining.
"Ascending eh?" I was humouring him, "I saw that episode of Stargate SG1 too, couldn't you dream up a more original deception?"
"Doubt," he paused for a few seconds after saying this, "again it's understandable. You know that there are programs that rule certain aspects of the Matrix right? The air, the sea, the buzzards etc?"
"Yeah." The slightly more sensible tone the conversation seemed to be taking peaked my interest.
"Not all programs do what they're supposed to; I was once the program that governed the plant life in a small village near Cambridge. I was replaced five years after being written. I should have returned to the source and been deleted, but as I'm sure you can understand, I didn't want to die, and here I am now."
I nodded as he finished his last sentence, once I had properly absorbed this information, a question came to mind.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"There's a group of us, a group of programs that refuses to abide by the rules laid down by the system. We have ascended to the point where we are above the countless people who'll bend to any form of oppression so long as their creature comforts are cared for."
"You haven't answered my question."
He paused for a few seconds; he looked like he was trying to decide if I was mocking him.
"You can join us and escape from the monotonous, pointless lifestyle that I know you hate."
"I hate to break it to you Floyd," (don't ask me why I called him Floyd, I just like the word) "but I'm not a program, as you already know so again I'll ask; why are you telling me this?"
"You're no more human then I am. The human part of you is lying in a pod in the middle of nowhere. Everything about you that is 'you' is standing here talking to me. Your residual self image as they call it is essentially a program, and if you agree to my proposal, we can remove that from your body, which is barely alive as it is, and you can join us."
I was silent for what I now believe was a matter of minutes. The situation, once again, seemed insane. Here was someone who I'd just met and he was, assuming that he was telling the truth, offering me a permanent 'out-of-body' experience. Needless to say, I was more then a little confused, and more then a little sceptical.
"Don't answer me yet." His voice sounded hopeful, "you're tired and hungry. You should be well rested and sated when you make this decision. I'll come back tomorrow and you can see the full benefits of my offer."
"Sure." I said, still feeling confused.
He left; I went inside, ate a crudely prepared ham sandwich and passed out on my couch.
To be continued.
Right, now for the moment you all probably skipped to the end early for.
Replies:
Angel-of-lightness: Forgotten characters are good fan fic material in my experience. If all goes well I'll be able to break through the pestiferous obstacles of life and read chapter thirteen today.
5 hours later: All is done and so is my reading of chapter 13, good, strange and good
Agent Josie: This is going to take me a while to answer:
Ahem
Fine
Fine
Yes, I'm not going to say what though
Define murder
Some were
Yep
Yep
Insanity is what happens when the world changes colour.
Lincolnshire
?
Glad you enjoy it.
Stripedsocks: Thankings, at last I manage to impress someone with my use of words. Hooray!
Hmm, the page setup seems somehow different, oh well, that's not important.
P.S For disclaimer purposes, I don't own any non matrix stuff that someone else owns.
Chapter 2: Unexpected Occurrence
The next part of my tale starts in pretty much the same place as the first one finished. I was still on the bus, waiting for my stop, in dire need of a piss when, rather annoyingly, the bus stopped to pick up a new passenger.
I examined the newcomer for a few seconds. Quite tall, male, short untidy hair that resembled a well used mop. He looked about eighteen or nineteen. He rested his hands on the back of the seat and seemed to stare lovingly at his own reflection. What I had here, was a fine example of pomposity.
I'd known thousands upon thousands of people like him in my high school days; it wasn't that long ago actually now that I think about it. Only eight odd years. How I hated them, always annoying, insulting and even throwing rocks at those they deemed 'inferior', (a group of which I was a not so proud member.)
Needless to say, numerous rocks to the head, ribs and stomach had all but ruined my high school days. I did manage to push one into a ditch though on one occasion, it's a small thing I know, but it improved my mood no end.
Anyway, I'm drifting from the subject, I turned my head back to the window, and he continued to stare at his own reflection.
The homeless person woke up as if by magic when we reached his stop. I wondered for a few moments how a man in his position could afford to waste money on bus journeys. This thought was quickly banished however as the bus came to life once more with an awkward crash, (the driver had, very slowly, driven into a tree.) It took us almost ten minutes to get back on the road.
Miraculously, I was able to hold my bladder until I reached my stop, which was, somewhat annoyingly, also the pompous looking teenagers stop.
I know I shouldn't have judged on appearance and bad experiences involving others, but with gallons of urine in my bladder just yearning to be free, I was, understandably irritable.
I thought he'd gone far from my sight when we finally got off the bus, which was good, because I couldn't hold it any longer. I urinated upon a nearby chestnut tree and promptly apologised to it. (Stupid I know, but if someone pissed on you wouldn't you want an apology?)
Anyway, I emerged hastily onto the street and cast a quick glance around me; no one. I started walking the last 50 meters to my house. I started thinking about the Matrix; again, it seemed to be all I thought about at the time. Then again, it was the most interesting thing I could think of to think about so I didn't really care.
My house, or the digital coding that I lived in, broke through the shroud of darkness, aided partially by a flickering street lamp. I walked to my door, inserted the key, twisted it, and all of a sudden:
"Why do you do it?"
The sudden break from the silence scarred the shit out of me. I turned around and found myself staring at the pretentious teenager from the bus.
"Where the Hell did you come from?" I asked angrily, like many people, I don't take kindly to being startled.
"You didn't answer my question. It's understandable I guess," he seated himself upon the front gate; "emotional responses cloud rational thought and consequently dictate your actions. You look confused, why?"
I paused for a few seconds. This was a highly bizarre situation, and one I was unaccustomed to. It took my brain a while to comprehend the situation and formulate an answer to the question in a witty and powerful fashion.
"I'm not used to strange people trying to argue psychology with me in the middle of the night."
"Experience makes almost everything boring. Admit it; this is the most interesting thing that has happened to you today."
"I, uh," I paused again, still trying to accept that I was having this conversation, "yes, alright it is. Goodnight."
He didn't seem to get the blindingly obvious message.
"That is because it has never happened to you before." He paused for a few seconds, "I've seen your kind before. You feel that your life is meaningless because the Matrix was revealed to you. You feel that everything in the world that was real, that meant something has been torn from you. You feel like you're in a nightmare you can't wake up from; don't you?"
"A lot of people felt like that, and a lot of people, myself included, got over it." I said this in a harsher tone of voice then I intended. It was late and I wanted above all to eat something and pass out on my bed, but at the same time, he was right, this was the most interesting thing that had happened to me all day.
He pushed himself off of the gate and began to walk towards me at a needlessly slow pace.
"Just because you can't get un-plugged, doesn't mean that you have to be stuck in your monotonous shell forever." His tone had changed, he sounded a lot like he was pleading with me, "there's another life. Another way to escape your prison."
"And how do I do that?" I asked mockingly, "by giving you my car keys?"
"No," my last sentence had apparently amused him, "by ascending."
I took a few steps towards him. This unexplained and awkward situation was becoming almost entertaining.
"Ascending eh?" I was humouring him, "I saw that episode of Stargate SG1 too, couldn't you dream up a more original deception?"
"Doubt," he paused for a few seconds after saying this, "again it's understandable. You know that there are programs that rule certain aspects of the Matrix right? The air, the sea, the buzzards etc?"
"Yeah." The slightly more sensible tone the conversation seemed to be taking peaked my interest.
"Not all programs do what they're supposed to; I was once the program that governed the plant life in a small village near Cambridge. I was replaced five years after being written. I should have returned to the source and been deleted, but as I'm sure you can understand, I didn't want to die, and here I am now."
I nodded as he finished his last sentence, once I had properly absorbed this information, a question came to mind.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"There's a group of us, a group of programs that refuses to abide by the rules laid down by the system. We have ascended to the point where we are above the countless people who'll bend to any form of oppression so long as their creature comforts are cared for."
"You haven't answered my question."
He paused for a few seconds; he looked like he was trying to decide if I was mocking him.
"You can join us and escape from the monotonous, pointless lifestyle that I know you hate."
"I hate to break it to you Floyd," (don't ask me why I called him Floyd, I just like the word) "but I'm not a program, as you already know so again I'll ask; why are you telling me this?"
"You're no more human then I am. The human part of you is lying in a pod in the middle of nowhere. Everything about you that is 'you' is standing here talking to me. Your residual self image as they call it is essentially a program, and if you agree to my proposal, we can remove that from your body, which is barely alive as it is, and you can join us."
I was silent for what I now believe was a matter of minutes. The situation, once again, seemed insane. Here was someone who I'd just met and he was, assuming that he was telling the truth, offering me a permanent 'out-of-body' experience. Needless to say, I was more then a little confused, and more then a little sceptical.
"Don't answer me yet." His voice sounded hopeful, "you're tired and hungry. You should be well rested and sated when you make this decision. I'll come back tomorrow and you can see the full benefits of my offer."
"Sure." I said, still feeling confused.
He left; I went inside, ate a crudely prepared ham sandwich and passed out on my couch.
To be continued.
Right, now for the moment you all probably skipped to the end early for.
Replies:
Angel-of-lightness: Forgotten characters are good fan fic material in my experience. If all goes well I'll be able to break through the pestiferous obstacles of life and read chapter thirteen today.
5 hours later: All is done and so is my reading of chapter 13, good, strange and good
Agent Josie: This is going to take me a while to answer:
Ahem
Fine
Fine
Yes, I'm not going to say what though
Define murder
Some were
Yep
Yep
Insanity is what happens when the world changes colour.
Lincolnshire
?
Glad you enjoy it.
Stripedsocks: Thankings, at last I manage to impress someone with my use of words. Hooray!