Friday, May 13, 2005

   Article number three is up! Yay!
I must say, Adam does good work. His intro to my editorial on the front made me snicker.

Hmm, so it seems articles don't handle HTML tags so much . . . oh wait! Oh, it's a special theO-specific sort of HTML'ing! I see now . . . heh, if only I noticed that sooner . . . ah well . . . now go read, si vous plait.
(That was me saying please, by the way.)


But yeah, I'll try to write a whole bunch of things over the summer, a'ight?
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Thursday, May 12, 2005

   And now for something nice and short
Two A's and three B's
This school year was not too bad
Latin got a D

Hunted down the Greeks
They won't bug me anymore
Onwards to Egypt!


EDIT: Late waking ups, plus caffeine = little interest in sleep last night. So instead here I am, early-ish morning. And then I wrote an article. Hopefully it shows up soon . . . and then some time maybe I'll get around to writing more of those things . . .
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Tuesday, May 10, 2005

   Roma: Totum Bellum vitam meam devoravit
So I've conquered the Greek penninsula even though Macedon still holds Athens (they're a protectorate under me now). I wiped out the Dacians and the Pontics (though the Senate only condoned the former). There were some border skirmishes with the Gauls but those have eased a bit as of late. So while the Julii are fighting them off and the Scipii are warring with Carthage, I'm off in the east blockading the Egyptian empire. With luck I might be able to take Memphis in the next few years, though Egypt has a rather large army at present . . . . .

So this is what I've been up to the past few days. I think it's good that I finally got away for a bit.

History prof said it was a good game. Who knew how true it'd be?
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Saturday, May 7, 2005

   You have been waylaid by enemies and must defend yourself . . .
Alright, so I haven't been around too much, be it myO, MSN, or whatever. Basically, "Rome: Total Waranoma" has taken over my life . . . it looks like this could be even worse than my previous bout of "Civ Threeitis". So yeah, I'll TRY to pry myself away from the game whenever I can . . . most likely it'll be during when the brother's playing it or something . . . . . or something.

Anyway, I've been meaning to post for a while, since I haven't said anything about my own things since that story-thing took over my other life for the past month or so. So basically, here's where I fill you in on EVERYTHING that's been going on in my head ever since regular postings died down for a bit:

• Exams. Scored good grades on the interesting courses. Scored less on the less intersting ones. By chance managed to not fail Latin 301, which was quite amazing.
  
• In between exams, one of the Japanese girls from last summer came back to Vancouver with her family to visit. Brought them to my campus again, ate dinner with 'em . . . . . tried not to be too much of a dork with what little Japanese I knew (the person in question told me to speak more of it, so I guess I was safe).
  
• Now that's school's done, I'm gonna start going to work more often again, which could be nice in the sense that I'll be getting paid. It kicked off with two consecutive graveyard shifts for the sake of inventorying(?). Plus side, no uniform, no customers; minus side, 12:15am-8:15 - 'nuff sad.
  
• Haven't really started archiving "Nougat: Origins" just yet, but I'll probably get onto that some time this week . . . I hope.
  
• The other day I felt like spending money after work, so I bought Rome: Total War (which has sucked up my life for many reasons) and a bunch of CDs . . . which is in the next point.
  
• Bought the Episode III soundtrack which is happiness. That was an impulse-buy, though. Really, I wanted to go to HMV to buy a Tegan and Sara CD . . . which I did, which is in my car, which is love (way to get me hooked, ochibi-chan, really . . .). So along with that and a U2 live-concert CD, I'm pretty happy in spending my overtime money . . .hehe.
  
• I think I'm gonna go steal the digital camera some time soon and get that "digital tour" of my room set up. Granted, it won't be digital like the fancy ones, it'll really just be a bunch of pictures of walls and stuff . . . ah well.
  
• Through two other myO members, I got to exercise my technical writing knowledge. That said, if anyone ever needs someone to proofread an essay or anything, well . . . I gotta do something with my English major, right?
  
• "Beck" (the anime) is over, "Bleach" keeps trucking on along with "Naruto" and . . . hm, guess that's all I'm really watching right now. Go fig . . . . . in any case, I started watching "Prince of Tennis". For a while, that almost sucked up my life, but then Rome: Total War came along and now, well . . . y'know.
  
• That said, 'Beck (the ojou-chan) told me that Prince of Tennis ate her friend. Just sayin' . . .
  
• I seriously need to start thinking about getting ready for Star Wars. Gotta call up the people, then find time to buy tickets some time, and all that . . . should be fun, methinks.
  
• Fish & Chips get really gross after a while . . .
  
• Still need to find a nailclipper . . . I mean I did, but it's just not the same . . .
  
• I miss my dear in the east. It's not news per se, but I still do, y'know? Especially since stupid people are bothering her again . . . let's go burn them!
  
• My hair is getting REALLY long . . . like, gravity affects it now! Gonna need to get a picture of that too . . . . . I'll probably cut it (after almost half a year) some time after Star Wars. I like to leave these things 'til after movies come out, y'know?
  
• I had waffles for dinner a few days ago (during the graveyard shift days). I wanna go get more now. That said, The Waffle House is also love.
  
• I wish the younger brother would go to bed so I could play Rome: Total War right now (I conceded the machine to him since I'd been playing most of the day . . . but still).
  

So that's me, pretty much. I hope are all doing well enough, and that life is not bearing down on you too much . . . and if it is, I'll kick its ass for you personally. See ya laters!
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Tuesday, May 3, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Epilogue)
Cream made his way to the office after the debriefing with the other team members in the lunch room. He knew it was probably nothing, but he couldn't help but keep worrying to a degree about his partner. When he had left earlier, there was definitely something important on his mind, and whether it was his place to ask or not, he needed to find out.

Luck was with the young detective when he saw light from inside the office shining from around the blinds behind the office door's window. Courteous to the other detective already inside, he opened the door and entered quietly. Once Cream saw Nougat sorting through his files at the desk, he grinned - he could have stomped into the office, slammed the door, and the other detective still would not have noticed. To break the silence, the younger detective cleared his throat audibly.
"Old man, you never came back," he said. Nougat looked up, smiled, and shrugged.
"Stuff . . . y'know . . ." he replied nonchalantly.

Cream made his way over to the twin desks and sat himself down on a bare patch of the other detective's side, skimming over all the papers and documents spread over the desk surface. Nougat, meanwhile, still basically ignored his partner and kept sorting through his files.
"'sit okay if I touch anything?" The younger detective asked.
"Just put it back where you found it," Nougat answered back, still not paying much attention to the other man. Cream grinned at seeing Nougat's odd moment of complete professionalism.
"Alright, let's see here . . ." Cream said as he leaned over the desk, being careful not to slip and fall on top of the papers.

Most of the actualy typed documents seemed rather loosely connected, and Cream was having a hard time trying to piece together all the different reports. He mumbled to himself as various names and places came up, along with the various dates at the tops of the papers - to the young detective, this was clearly not a simple case.

"Here," Nougat said to Cream suddenly, a photo in hand, "you might get a kick outta this." Cream took the photo and after a long moment realised what he was looking at. His outburst came shortly afterwards.
"Haha! Noug', it's you! And you're not old!" he chortled while looking at the old pub photo, his jaw unwilling to close. Nougat, enjoying his partner's reaction, sat up straight in his chair and back from his work.
"Yeah, I'm a bit younger than you are now in that pic' . . . . . kinda explains why I look so retarded, huh?" Cream let the harmless jab roll off his back.
"Heh, yeah yeah, I know . . ."

The older sergeant cracked his knuckles over his head and stretched back, forcing the stiffness out of his body. Still leaning back in his chair and feeling relaxed, Nougat took a cleansing breath and settled into his chair comfortably. Cream couldn't help but feel slightly amused by the whole process.
"Been at it for a while, eh?" he asked. The other officer just nodded.

"Whip," Nougat started, "I'm curious . . . why did you wanna make detective?" Cream snickered a little at the sudden question.
"You mean other than the extra two bucks an hour and all the women?" Both detectives had to laugh as the words echoed in the office.
"Yes, besides all that great stuff."
"I dunno," the younger officer answered, rubbing his chin and looking along the top of the back wall, "I guess . . . I just wanted to do something meaningful and interesting with my life, y'know?" Nougat nodded and lowered his head. "What, that not good enough?" the younger detective said, leaning over the desk towards his partner.
"Oh no, that's a great answer . . . really good, actually . . ."

Cream rolled his eyes and straightened himself out on the desk.
"Alright old man," he asked, "so what drew you to the world of investigative policing . . . um . . . stuff?" Nougat chortled as his partner pushed through his words.
"A few reasons, I guess," he replied as he reached over the desk towards some files at the far corner. Finding the file he wanted, he handed the sheet over to Cream. "This guy mostly, though . . ." Cream took the offered file and read over it.
"Sergeant Marcus Stone . . ." he read out loud.
"Yeah . . ." Nougat said, chuckling a little to himself, ". . . he was a bit of an asshole, but still . . . . . I owe it to a bunch of guys that I find him."

The younger sergeant carefully replaced the document from where his partner had taken it and whistled quietly.
"So you've been at this for like, about a decade now?"
"Just about," Nougat answered. "Every now and then I get a new bit of something for the case, and then I work at it a little more . . ." Cream shook his head in slight disbelief.
"Man . . . that's determination . . ."
"It's somethin', yeah . . . very 'one-step-closer' sort of work, but hey . . . what can ya do, right?" The younger detective nodded with a smile and looked back at Nougat's old squad photo.

"Hey," Cream asked once spying something curious in the image, "next to you is uh, your old partner . . . the one-armed golfer, right?" Nougat couldn't contain himself and laughed once again.
"Yeah, that's Henry . . . he wasn't quite as big of an asshole . . . . ."
"I guess compared to you, few are, hey?" Cream slipped in; Nougat retaliated with a thrown pencil that bounced off the top of the younger man's head, much to the older man's pleasure.

"Aside from Henry, I haven't really seen any of those guys in a long time," Nougat recollected out loud. Cream hopped off the desk and stretched himself out against his side of the desks.
"You miss 'em?" he asked. Nougat smirked as he looked at his shrugging partner.
"A bit, maybe . . . . . so yeah, when this is over, we have to pay them a visit . . ." As the words left Nougat's lips, a similar line from a particular movie came to mind and a smile instantly formed from the corner of his mouth. ". . . I'll bring the chainsaw." Cream knew instantly knew what movie it was from, as they had discussed it several times before.
"I'll bring the beer," he finished, painting a wide smile over the older sergeant's face.

"Tango & Cash, right?" Cream asked with his eyebrow raised, wanting to confirm the quote.
"Yup," Nougat responded while he nodded. Both detectives exchanged another grin as thoughts of their beloved movie flowed through them.

"It's a good line, good movie," Cream said before dropping himself into his own chair opposite the other detective.
"Yeah . . ." Nougat said back, slowly turning his attention back to the case set up on his desk. ". . . great movie . . . great quote . . . . ."




[And as usual, the trailing off dialogue brings us to the end of another story in the saga. I thought this one came out pretty well . . . I mean, I think all of these came out pretty well considering how little time I actually spend writing them - you're never supposed to submit first drafts, and yet . . . hehe . . . . . and yes, I do have an issue with referring to "Tango & Cash" a lot. The movie means so much to these stories, what can I say?

As always, if there are any questions about what you have just read, or if you completely missed any references or anything I tried to make, I'm very free for fielding these sorts of things. But that aside, I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it well enough. I know this one was a little less interactive than many of my previous stories, but don't worry, I have a feeling this is far from being the last of 'em. So 'til then, this has been a SomeGuy story, courtesy of myOtaku.com. May your summers be bright and pleasing to you all.]
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Sunday, May 1, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Chapter X)
Nougat exited his car in the damp parking lot outside the station. It had been almost a month since he last came to the precinct with his bag and uniform since the drug bust, and the precinct looked perhaps even larger than it did when he first arrived the year before. Upon entering, the weight in the air sank even more heavily - despite missing out on weeks of paychecks, work was not somewhere he wanted to be that day.

The sullened constable made his way up the stairs and towards the lunch room. Henry had called the night before and had told Nougat to meet him there before they got ready for their shift. Being the time of day it was, most officers about to go on duty had already eaten before coming to work, so the lunch room was a little more empty than usual - in turn, it also seemed a whole lot bigger.

"I got ya coffee," Henry said upon seeing his partner's face for the first time after all the previous weeks. "One sugar, no cream, right?" Nougat nodded.
"Yeah, cream just rubs me the wrong way . . . I don't touch the stuff unless I have to." Both officers smiled in greeting as the less experienced of the two sat down at the table. After Henry slid over the cup of coffee and a plain bagel and more properly greeting the other man, he just stared over at Nougat until the other man couldn't take it any longer. "Alright, now you're creepin' me out, man," he said as he shook his head and waved away any imaginary curses the other officer may have just sent to him; both men's efforts only led to a joint bout of more laughing.

"Now that you're back to normal somewhat," Henry began, "how've you been the past while?" Nougat took a sip of his coffee and leaned back.
"Ahh . . . I gotta tell ya, television during the day bites," he remarked, his efforts being rewarded with another smile from the other constable. "But yeah, I've been alright. Bored and still kinda pissed at myself for a buncha reasons, but I'll live."
"Mmm," Henry responded, "well, I can't imagine that a suspension is an especially enjoyable time regardless."
"I can vouch for that, yeah . . ."

"And how about you?" Nougat asked back. "How're you healing up?"
"Oh, you mean this?" Henry responded while lifting his arm and pointing at the upper half of it. "Ah, the guy was a horrible shot . . . 'sgonna take a helluva lot more than just some bullet to take away my arm!" After speaking Henry went on to flex his arm a few times while grunting in what was supposed to be a masculine way. Nougat just laughed and shook his head.

Nougat had gotten through half of his bagel while discussing basically pointless banter about who was being stupid about what, or whatever. By the time a fifth awkward silence hit their conversation, he knew he had to ask.
"We still haven't heard anything from Flint yet, have we?"

Henry's smile changed. For the better part of the meeting he had been smiling wide and comfortingly. He knew the question was going to come at some point, and he was ready to ease its coming as best he could. From happy and false, his smile shifted into one that was of complete sincerety, and the constable shook his head.
"They had people searching the area for over a week after everything happened . . . still nothing, it looks like." Nougat closed his eyes and nodded.
"I figured as much, yeah . . ."

Nougat suddenly felt a sudden feeling dare to overwhelm him, and clenched his teeth hard for a moment before continuing to speak.
"So now that he's pretty much off duty here on in, what does that do to us?" he asked.
"Well, long story short, the squad's breaking up," Henry answered. "Though Ruth was acting sergeant, she's still technically a couple years away from really being allowed a promotion and stuff . . . our force's policy and all." Nougat let out a slow breath and dropped his hands into his lap - dropped where he could clench and crack at them without the other officer noticing.
"Heh, well that sucks . . ." he said quietly. "So where do we go?"
"We," Henry explained, "get to go to Sergeant Mulligan's squad. The rest are here and there . . . . . yeah, I think stupid Kathy and Mars' got sent to Sergeant Shannon, Ruth and Twix went to . . . Sergeant Orlando . . ."
"Oh, Joe?" Nougat interrupted, recognising the last name.
"Yeah, that guy . . . I think him and Flint were buddies back in the olden days, kinda . . ."
"Mm . . . what about Roch?" Henry chuckled for a moment as he recollected.
"Roch caught the odd straw . . . again . . . . . . I think he went to Sergeant Tigger." Nougat half-snorted into his coffee as he listened.
"What?! Oh, that poor bastard . . . Sergeant Alex Tigger . . . . ."
"Hah, I know," Henry replied, "but, Tig's pretty good at that movie game, so I guess he'll be okay . . ."

The quick brevity of learing everyone's new assignment ended when Nougat remembered that it meant they were all splitting up now. The officer shook his head and tried to ignore the issue.
"We should go suit up now, huh?" he asked.
"Yeah, we'd better head down . . ."

As the two constables made their way through the precinct, another cold silence broke between them.
"Oh!" Henry recalled suddenly. "Since the squad's all going in different directions, we're all going to the pub tonight . . . y'know, one last hurrah and all that."
"I'm out," Nougat answered immediately. Henry stopped walking, completely off guard.
"What?"

"Come on, man," Nougat said, turning around to face his partner while they stood in the hallway, "there's no way in hell I can look those guys in the face after all the crap I caused . . ."
"Oh shut up," Henry fired back, "they . . . we don't blame you one bit for any of what happened out there." Nougat smirked in disbelief.
"Henry, ya don't need to butter me up . . . whether you guys all hold ill will against me or not, I don't care. Fact is . . . . . ah, it doesn't matter anymore . . ."

Henry stood, a complete loss of words overtaking him. He simply did not have anything to say to Nougat. The young constable moved up to his partner and slapped him lightly on the cheek.
"Hey, we still need to go work, man," he said. Henry dropped his head and smiled before nodding along. "And hey, keep tabs on the other guys for me . . . . . I don't know when, but I'll find Flint . . . . . after that, I'll buy the first round when we get that drink . . . . ."


[One more chapter to go! Even though that was clearly an excellent way to end a story, ya know I just love the epilogues . . . . . if anyone noticed, I themed the names of the sergeants a bit as homages to THAT's own Prima Puellarum Trium! Hehe, me loves those girls . . . . . alright, see ya in two.]
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Friday, April 29, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Chapter IX)
[I would have started writing this 107 minutes earlier, but Blade Trinity was due back before 11pm last night . . . that said, it's pretty upsetting in my opinion . . . I mean come on! Headphones during a fistfight?! Oh Mary Camden, how your logic has gone to poop . . . not that I mind, of course, me loves the bad movies . . . . . sorta . . . anyway, we have a gunfight to get through . . .]


Flint and Nougat composed themselves behind one side of the bays of crates while the drug dealers began firing volleys of pistol rounds into the other.
"Sarge, I'm so sorry!" Nougat kept repeating as the concussion of gunshots beat on their chests through the air.
"You'll be more sorry if we don't make it out!" Flint replied. He grabbed the shaken officer and took them down along the back wall of the warehouse. As they neared the next opening between the crates, Flint ducked his head under his arm momentarily. "If you guys didn't figure it out yet, the heat is on!" he shouted into the concealed microphone strapped to his armpit.

"Those ERT asshats better hurry up . . ." he said before readying himself. "Alright, we dash across the gap, put some bullets into them, and keep going. Ready?" Nougat nodded and raised his firing arm. "Go!"

The two officers, shouting, sidestepped briskly across the fairly wide gap between the crates and fired quickly into the crowd in the center of the warehouse; a retaliatory burst pounded the wall behind the gap soon after they crossed it.
"I think I got one," Flint said, grinning. "You?"
"One," Nougat answered as he swallowed quickly.
"Good man," Flint replied before leading them further in the wide circle around the long bays of boxes. The young constable could barely register the chaos of the situation as gunfire tore its way through various points in their wood and cardboard cover.

As the two officers came upon the second corner, they were greeted with the line of bays that pressed directly against the back wall.
"Well, this sucks," Flint muttered though only audible to himself in the noisy warehouse. Seeing the situation grow worse, Nougat continued to apologise despite his superior officer's reprimands.
"Alright, shaddup for a sec," Flint ordered while he quickly looked around. "Okay, you move further over to that end of the wall, and when . . ."

The sergeant was cut off by a bullet that blasted through the box in front of him, embedding in the brick next to his head. As he ducked back from the narrow miss, he quickly kicked Nougat away from himself, back along the wall they had just gone past.
"Sunuva . . . . . Noug'!" He called out, "when I say go, kick yourself a firing slot! We're ending this now!"
"I'm set!" Nougat called back as he readied himself behind a bay of what seemed to be boxes of plastic lawn statues, taking several deep breaths and ignoring the various bullets crashing into the wall around him.
"Tear 'em up!" Flint cried out.

Nougat took another deep breath and kicked hard at the base of the boxes. Directly in his sight before him, he spotted two gunmen - one reloading his weapon, another turning his attention to the fallen boxes. Without any hesitation Nougat fired two rounds at both gunmen, knocking them both backwards into the far bays. As the men fell, the warehouse echoed one last time and went eerily quiet.

Nougat quickly stepped out from the space he had just created and saw Flint stepping out of his. He then turned to the men in the middle of the warehouse; not a single one of them was firing a gun anymore. The officers ran out and found five downed gunmen strewn about in various positions.
"Okay, there were way more than just five guys in here, weren't there?" Nougat asked in between hard breaths.
"Poor bastards," Flint said, "this is why I would never bring up the rear in a getaway."
"The others got away?!"
"Well, they sure as crap ain't here, that's for sure."

Nougat shook his head harshly after asking such a blatant question.
"Alright," Flint said to him, another grin smeared across his face. "let's try to nab 'em before the ERT chokes 'em off. Nougat put on a grin of his own and the two of them ran out the door into the small office area at the front of the building, ready for anything.

Nougat's passage through the door was interrupted abruptly as two gunshots rang out the moment Flint entered the office. The horrified constable tried to slow his momentum as he watched Flint collapsing to the side of the door, though to no avail - he skidded into the room and barely had time to duck under the third shot that came from right around the corner.

As Nougat slid into the room, he reached to his side frantically, taking a hold of the man's shooting arm and wrenched at it as hard as he could from his position. The constable did not have the energy to do it, and was quickly met with a knee to the back of his head. Nougat grunted as he fell forward hard, but did not let up and rolled quickly as the man fired three more rounds into the floor. Once Nougat was on his back looking up, he saw his chance: the slide on the man's pistol was locked back.

The young, tired officer yelled our a long cry and propelled himself with his hands off the ground and directly at the lone dealer. Nougat's left hand found the collar of the man's jacket and grasped hard; his right clenched into a fist and raked across the man's chin, bringing them both back to the ground with its momentum. Still holding the crook down, Nougat quickly propped himself up on his knee and threw another punch at the man's face.
"You bastard!" He growled as each blow connected.
He landed another blow - for going where he wasn't needed or wanted.
He landed another - for endangering the situation with his foolishness.
He landed another - for letting Flint take that last bullet . . .

Nougat cried out once again as three more haymakers drilled down into the bloodied criminal. Before he could land another, the crook kicked up with his legs and hit across the back of Nougat's head. The officer fell forward once again and the man hastily got up and dashed for the door.

Flint grabbed the man by the ankle as he hopped over him, bringing the crook back to the ground face-first.
"Nice try," the sergeant said wryly as he rolled and took hold with his other hand as well. The crook began kicking frantically, and with a flurry of movement kicked free of Flint's grasp and quickly made his way out the front door.

Nougat, who had used the brief tussle for time to get back up, hoisted the groaning sergeant back up to his feet.
"Flint," he said, "I . . ."
"Save it," Flint replied quickly, "we gotta catch that bastard . . . he's the boss!"

Once back out into the night air, the officers heard sirens and other similar noises all around them; the ERT units were closing in around them. The escaping thug, clearly dazed from Nougat's assault, ran from the warehouse with all his strength. As such, it took little to get the equally battered Flint and Nougat to give chase.
"Noug', I'm gonna tell you this now," Flint said as they ran, "you are going to love - to love - body armour like your own mother!" Despite all the danger and trouble the two had gone through, they both laughed briefly.
"I'll keep it in mind . . . but man, I seriously thought you had had it," Nougat confessed.
"Phah! Gonna take a helluva lot more than a few bullets to take me down!" the sergeant proclaimed.

The chase continued for another minute, and though the ERT units were definitely closing in, they were still off from completely closing off the area. As well, the ringleader of the crooks was not losing his pace at all - his energy coming solely from his own sheer will. Still fairly far away, Nougat swore in disbelief as the crook leaped at a fence between two buildings and made his way over it.
"How the . . ." he stuttered out. Flint glanced over at Nougat and knew instantly that the young officer's part in the chase was over - he was gasping hard enough as it was, and looked to be on the verge of falling over at any moment.


"Noug'," Flint spoke, "thanks for softening him up for me. Stay here and wait for the ERT guys."
"To hell with that!" Nougat replied, "I can't let you . . ."
"I'm still the pharoah, new guy," the sergeant shot back; Nougat went silent and his feet stopped moving.

Flint glanced over to the direction the ringleader was running, and back to Nougat. "I'll get him, don't worry . . . . . and after I bag him, you can bring the chainsaw." As Flint began to turn back to the chase, the line rang true through Nougat's mind.
"Only if you bring the beer!" he replied, finishing off the lines. Flint turned back to his officer one last time, smiled and nodded, and charged over the fence.

Nougat dropped to his knees once again, breathing raspily. Hearing a clatter of noise behind him, the constable turned around and saw serveral ERT members approach him . . . . . he turned his head back in the direction of the fence and the pathway behind it . . .


[Don'cha just love violence? And yet, there's no 'real' profanity or nudity/sexuality! What on earth do we rate this thing?! Nyah hah hah . . .]
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Wednesday, April 27, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Chapter VIII)
[This probably won't matter to many of ya, but I started writing this a few hours later than I really wanted to. The brother was playing The Sims, and once he was done I was still playing God of War . . . played this one ridiculously hard area for over an hour and still couldn't beat it . . . bah! I should've been writing! Stupid "God mode" difficulty level . . .]


Though the two constables had already driven past the better half of the warehouses, at the present they seemed to sprawl on for ages as they chased the mysterious character that had ran off on them. As well as the run, it was also well past their scheduled shift, and the eleven hours of duty time were definitely taking their toll - Nougat, most of all.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Nougat muttered as he forced himself to keep running, "this was so stupid to come here, I'm so . . ."
"I get it!" Henry said sternly. "I'll insult you more later if ya want, but we gotta catch this bastard before then!" Nougat grunted and nodded. The warehouses, meanwhile, continued to stretch on.

The gap between the suspect and the two officers was slowly widening, and the constables forced themselves to quicken their pace. But the strain was simply too much for the newer Nougat, and a gap slowly formed between his partner and himself; he pressed himself harder and harder, forcing his legs down and behind him as hard as he could. Still, as much will as he had, Nougat's body simply could not keep up.

A stinging pain shot through Nougat's abdomen, and though he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the cramp, he knew it was impossible. With that, he lost his footing and fell, rolling across the cold street.
"Go!" the downed officer cried out before Henry could turn around and stop. The other officer snapped his head back forward and began sprinting forward, trying to close the gap between himself and the runner in front of him. Nougat, meanwhile, clenched his fist and slammed it against the ground as he watched from his sideways view how his partner dashed onwards.

The young constable pulled himself into a kneeling position and started to regain control over his breathing. His stomach muscles continued to gnaw fiercely at him while he rested quickly, fearful that his partner would be caught alone in any sort of bad situation.
"Henry, you better be okay," he said to himself as the cramp began to fade. Standing up, Nougat could feel his knees and arms had taken the brunt of his fall, and while he could see that he had skinned several points along the bottom of his right arm, he could only imagine what his legs looked like - he certainly knew what they felt like, in any case.

Nougat ignored the slight stinging sensations under his pant legs and made his way towards the warehouses again. Henry was definitely long gone, but he still needed to finish what poorly planned operation he had already begun. The constable jogged along the warehouses, trying to figure out which one held all the important people, if not items. Each warehouse looked basically identical, and there was no way he could just go up to them and find out their contents, even if hypothetically all the doors were unlocked.

A gunshot in the area sparked Nougat back to the dire state of the situation and he broke into an all out run once again, completely forgetting about any sort of physical weaknesses that may come back to haunt him. Several more gunshots cracked the dead quiet air, including several rounds from what sounded like the service pistol the force used. Nougat picked up his pace and ran towards the direction of the shots.

The shots had stopped well before he could get anywhere near where they would have been, but Nougat was still relatively far from the area. As well, another stomach cramp dared to debilitate him once again; the constable opted to play it safe and dropped to a quick walk. Still, he did not have to walk for long, as he suddenly heard a slamming door and a pair of footsteps hastily making their way around the nearest warehouse. Instinctively, Nougat quickly dashed towards the corner while being careful not to make his own footsteps known. With a bit of luck, the constable put his back to the wall unnoticed and waited briefly.

The exact moment the moderately built man dressed in jeans and a dark jacket flashed into view, Nougat shot his left arm out and made a grab for the back of the man's collar. Unfortunately for the constable, his hand grasped higher than he had planned . . . . . even more unfortunately for the other, however, was that the constable's grasp landed directly on top of the man's head and firmly in his hair . . .

With a yelp, the man's head snapped back and Nougat slammed his hand down hard into the cement, taking the man with it - Nougat wasted no time and went on to deliver a sharp cross to the man's face with his right. After wiping off the loose hairs matted to his hand, Nougat quickly searched the unconscious man's pockets and found a set of keys; again, he wasted no time in taking them to the nearby door and letting himself into the warehouse.

Nougat ducked down the moment he entered the small office-like room that connected the main warehouse with the front door. All along the walls were windows that featured solid columns of crates and boxes behind them. Through the interior door that led into the main warehouse Nougat could hear a great deal of shouting. He wasn't able to make out any words, and made his way closer to investigate, being careful not to make any noise whatsoever. Once at the door, Nougat poked his head around carefully; he spotted at least three men pacing around in the centre of the warehouse - one of which he immediately recognised.

The front door violently swinging in stopped the young officer from listening any harder. Once Nougat turned around to the slamming door and rush of wind, he automatically started reaching for his sidearm when a shot rang out, echoing painfully in the small room and grazing a hard line across the constable's shoulder. As Nougat fell backwards directly into the open warehouse door, he froze as two gunmen entered the office room, weapons trained on his being.

"Boss, We got more than one problem!" the gunman shouted as he kicked Nougat into the centre of the warehouse. Nougat hit the ground face first and groaned again. He could only see directly in front of him, but he already knew there had to be a circle of guns pointing in his direction.
"What about the gunshots outside?" one man asked.
"Sprinkle's still taking care of that one," the first man answered. Nougat let his head drop back down to the floor and clenched his teeth hard while profanity and calls for his death rang out. He knew it; he was done.

"Damn cops," one man shouted, "they ain't wreckin' our job this damn fast!"
"I think we should make this one bleed a bit before we kill him," another commented. Nougat on the ground heard and felt a quick succession of footsteps nearing his position which peaked with a hard kick to his stomach. Clenching his teeth once again to keep from crying out, the young constable listened as his aggressor spoke.
"These damn no-talent ass-clowns," he said, "sending in these kids to get all beat up . . . it's shameful . . . they couldn't even win if they cheated!"

Nougat's attention zeroed directly in on the man standing above him: the string of words all pointed to a face he couldn't see but could still recognise . . . . .


Flint, dressed in street clothes but still acting with nuances unique only to him, grabbed Nougat hard by the collar and yanked him up into a kneeling position. He slapped the young officer across the head back and forth before bringing his own face down to his squad member's, looking him straight in the eye.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here, huh?!" Nougat spat out. "You realise that now you have to die if this deal's gonna go through safely?! Were you thinking about that when you came in here?!"

The words sank hard in Nougat's chest. Though the sergeant was playing a role, his words carried more than enough truth. Nougat remained silent, and Flint dragged him across the warehouse floor and threw him into a wall of crates.
"Hey," he said to the gunman who had originally brought the young officer in, "give me his gun, it'll be fitting this way . . ." The gunman complied and tossed Nougat's service pistol to the undercover officer. Flint then went on to drag Nougat across the line of crates until he reached the end where there was a gap in the wall of crates. Once there, he slammed Nougat's back against the stored wares and pressed the pistol barrel under his chin.
"See," Flint said, a great deal of annoyance in his voice, "now things have to get messy . . . . ."



. . . . . before Nougat knew what had happened, he found himself swung around by his collar, with Flint's gun arm poking over his shoulder; the painful ringing in his ear explained completely what the sergeant was doing with his pistol. As Flint unloaded the pistol into the line of crooks, he swung the two of them through and behind the wall of crates, out of the way of any direct retaliation.

"Holy hell are we in trouble now!" Flint shouted before laughing somewhat inappropriately. The pieces finally fit in Nougat's head, and he quickly took back and reloaded his pistol while Flint drew his own concealed weapon. "Noug', I'm swearin' to ya right now, if we get out of this alive I'm gonna kill you!"


[Heh . . . dang this got long . . . . . if you couldn't tell just from reading the chapter, I was REALLY tempted to cut the chapter off at Flint potentially blowing Nougat away . . . and y'know, for the chapter it would've worked, and would've given a nice little cliffhanger. However, then the next chapter would have to start in a slightly different place which just wouldn't work as well (and I wouldn't get to end on Flint's brilliant line!). Heh . . . that, and often I'm just too damn cruel with my cliffhangers. I had to ease up . . .]
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Monday, April 25, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Chapter VII)
[Just to remind everyone in case you came to read chapter 6 on its 2nd day in the sun, I'm writing this chapter a day early. If it seems like the story's out of place for you, head back a chapter and all will be well. Anyway, this chapter's notes are actually pretty short, so I'm curious as to how long this'll turn out . . . . . should be fun . . .]


"Hey, slow down a bit, will ya?!" Henry shouted as he bounced in his seat from Nougat's driving. Nougat laughed malevolently as he took another fast turn. "I knew it was a bad idea to let you drive . . ."
"You keep saying that," Nougat said, "and every time I remind you that you already did, so you might as well just hang on until it's over . . . . . 'sides, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Yeah, I think I dropped it on that hard right you took on East Tenth!"

Nougat continued to laugh with staged malice as they neared the warehouses on Cambie Street. For the most part the traffic was light considering it was in the dead middle of night, save the odd car or night bus service going through the busy commercial areas of the city. As commerical shifted to industrial, almost no other vehicles seemed present on the roads; as well, even the street lights seemed fewer and further in between.

"Well, warehouse district's coming up," Henry commented, conceding to his present situation. "I don't see any ERT guys, though . . ."
"They've gotta be around," Nougat said as he slowed the cruiser down and quietly drove down the dark, cracked roads.
"Well, in any case things are definitely looking quiet." Nougat sighed a little before answering back.
"Yeah, a little too quiet . . ."
"You did not just say that, did you?" Henry asked, his eyebrows twisted up in a sort of mocking disbelief.
"Hey, you just look for the ERT guys or something, I'll worry about my choice of dramatic cliches . . ." Henry shrugged and went back to scanning along the streets.
"Hey," he said, "you don't suppose they're all camped up in one of these alleys, huh?" Nougat looked down a few alleys as he drove by them.
"Nah, it's too cramped for ERT wagons," he deduced. "Besides, there'd be no good way for them to get from the alley into the warehouses unless they were in one of the ones next to . . . . ."

Nougat slammed the brakes hard once he realised what his words were leading to.
"Holy mother of friggin' hell," he said, his eyes opened wide.
"What?" his partner asked.
"Henry, we've been driving for a long time towards the warehouses," he answered while rubbing his chin and cheeks with one hand. "We're already right next to them right now . . ."

Henry slapped his palms down into his lap.
"Oh sh- . . ." he got out before biting down on his lip to silence his shouts. He composed himself quickly and spoke in a quieter tone. "We don't see ERT guys because they aren't supposed to be this close to the warehouse!" The younger constable nodded furiously.
"We messed up big," he said gravely.
"Hell no! You messed up big!" Henry retorted, his breath getting faster. "Park this damn thing around the corner or something already, man!"

Nougat was quick to comply, and hastily put the cruiser around the corner of an adjacent paint store. Inside the cruiser, the two officers sat quietly, staring forward; as well, Nougat had begun tapping the panel on his door with his fingers.
"Alright, so how do we make sure we didn't screw anything up?" Nougat asked.
"Well," Henry slowly answered, "first of all, we need to take the car and move it back out into the open streets . . . . . then, we will drive it up to eighty-eight miles an hour and go back in time to stop our retarded selves from doing . . ."
"Alright, you can stop." The two of them took another breath in unison and quietly thought for another few moments; Nougat's tapping quickened.

"I suppose we could always just stay here and wait it out," Henry suggested. "I mean, we were scanning the area pretty hard and we didn't see anyone that could've seen us . . . maybe they didn't."
"Yeah, but what if they did?" Nougat questioned.
"Well, that's the thing, isn't it?" Henry answered back. Another quiet moment went on, with Nougat's steadily increasing taps being the only audible sound in the car. With one final tap Nougat unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door.
"I need to go search the area for myself," he said before exiting the car.
"Whoa! Noug', don't be an idiot!" Henry whispered out harshly, though to no avail. Swearing once again, the more experienced officer got out of the car and followed.

Against all better judgement, the two constables slowly made their way towards the warehouses once again, though this time on foot and with their hands over their sidearms.
"Two questions," Henry said softly, "why are we going back towards the place we shouldn't be near, and why are you leading us?" Nougat shrugged.
"Damned if I know . . ." he gave. "It's good teamwork to have people watching your back, how 'bout?" Henry groaned.
"I knew we drilled that teamwork junk into ya too hard . . ."

They were about across the street from the main block of warehouses; again, the area seemed clear enough though what was visible was easily the least of their worries.
"Hey," Nougat said to the other officer, "why are you breathing so hard?" Henry punched him back in the arm in response.
"The hell do you think?! I've got the worst feeling about this whole thing!" If not for the intensity of the situation, Nougat would have been ready to grin once again.
"So what, you're psychic too?" he asked sarcastically.
"That's right," Henry shot back, "you wanna make somethin' of it, you . . ."

"Shh!" Nougat hissed through his teeth, cutting off the other officer. "Keep walking," he ordered while pointing forward. "Did you notice the guy behind us? Don't look at him! Alright . . ." Henry began breathing even harder and felt his heart pounding.
"Alright, turn around and just act like we were chasing a cat or something," he said to Nougat. With that, they both slowly turned around and kept their eyes down.

The man in the distance quickly turned and walked around the corner casually.
"I think we're hooped," Henry added before they both increased their walking paces. Once they rounded the corner, they saw the man break into a run towards the far warehouse. Again, the constables swore - they broke into a run in turn.

"Damn, another friggin' foot chase," Nougat muttered before concentrating on controlling his breathing . . .


[Heh . . . one of these days I'm gonna just hafta write a thing of dialogue. It's what I enjoy, y'know? Anyway, I guess I'll see ya after my Latin exam with Chapter VIII . . . oh, by the way, "gibbus, -i, m." is Latin for "hump". Could be useful, huh? Hehe . . . alright, have a good one, everyone.]
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Sunday, April 24, 2005

   Nougat: Origins (Chapter VI)
[Here's something slightly un-story related. Recently the brother and I lost track of where the basement nail clipper is. And this sucks, because that was a damn good nail clipper! It had a really strong "lever" that didn't bend, the clipper was sharp and actually cut, AND it was thin enough to really get at hard-to-reach areas, like the edges of the large toenails (mine are slightly ingrown), or under cuticles. Oh yeah, and not to mention the "blade" part of it was especially fine and also good at chipping away at the cruddy stuff . . . grr . . . . . 'cause for the past week my dry, peeling cuticles have been such a pain, especially at work (flowers, dirt, water, y'know . . .). Grr . . . . . anyway, story time!]


"Man, I'm tellin' ya," Nougat complained to Henry as the other constable drove the cruiser through the dark city, "In the fifteen months I've been with this squad, I've maybe driven about ten times during my shifts . . . and half the times were because Flint just wanted an excuse to call me his 'chariot driver' . . ." Henry nodded along passively.
"Uh huh . . ." he mutteredas they came to a red light. Nougat just kept on talking.
"I mean seriously, all that driving training at the academy's gonna rust up on me . . . it's an injustice, I tell ya! An injustice!"
"Uh huh . . ."
"I'm not even that new anymore, ya know?"
"Yup . . ."
"I'd like to think that I've earned my right to drive a . . ."
"That's true . . . . ."

Nougat stopped himself after Henry replied at such an odd time. He finally looked to his left and saw Henry biting the inside of his cheeks, trying as hard as he can not to laugh out loud. Sensing Nougat's lull, Henry looked over as well.
"Oh, did I chime in too early?" He asked sarcastically. "Sorry man. Please continue your griping . . . just make sure you end your sentences really noticably, I'm a little tired tonight . . ." Nougat shook his head and chuckled quietly.
"Sorry man, I've been bitching about that enough tonight," he said.
"Nah, not at all," Henry answered back reassuringly, "it's good to get these feelings out before they all build up inside ya . . . y'know, kinda like Roch when he gets into his times of the month and all . . ." Nougat let himself laugh harder while thinking about the most aloof member of their squad - though he granted that "aloof" barely fit the older officer's description, especially when considering the character of the squad as a whole.

"But hey," Henry continued, "you shouldn't feel too bad about anything. I mean, at least they're not calling you 'new guy' anymore, right?" Nougat nodded and rested his head ont his arm that he had propped up against the car door.
"So how long did they keep calling you 'new guy'?" he asked.
"Until you came," Henry answered, "and that was almost two years after I first joined." Nougat jolted up and turned, locking his seatbelt and pulling him back down into his seat abruptly.
"You're friggin' kidding me!" he exclaimed while trying to get more slack in his shoulderbelt. Henry laughed again.
"Well . . . maybe a little . . . it was more like a year and a half . . ."

Just as the light turned green, a red sports car blasted past their squad car on the left, elliciting more coarse language from the two constables.
"Wanna bag 'im?" Henry asked rhetorically while already reaching for the siren controls.
"Stupid enough to speed past a police cruiser?" Nougat replied, "Oh hell yeah."

The pulling over and ticketing went over extremely quickly. The man told them he was in a hurry and actually asked for the ticket as quickly as he could get it. Once the driver went off - after being told extensively to slow down - Nougat returned to the car and his partner, who had stayed behind in the car.
"Nice guy," Nougat commented as he walked up to Henry's window. "Absentminded as hell and a bit of a flake, but nice."
"I'm sure," Henry said back, "I bet you're just sad you didn't get to shoot anyth . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah . . ." Nougat interjected as harshly as he could. Henry laughed mischievously once again.
"Alright you dope, get in the car," he said.
"Hey, shift's almost over," Nougat said, "how'zabout you let me drive?"
"No way!" Henry said sharply, "I've been waiting two years to get to drive more often!"
"Come on man!" Nougat pleaded, "we need to break this cycle of pain before it's too late!"

Henry finally conceded after Nougat began to make a bit of a spectacle of himself and switched sides. Nougat, victorious, roared in triumph and took his place behind the cruiser's wheel.
"I'm gonna tell everyone how much you begged to drive," Henry added before buckling his seatbelt.
"You do that and I'll tell everyone how you let me," Nougat answered back with a grin while adjusting his seat.

The final hour or so of their shift was basically uneventful. For the most part the two officers just patrolled their district while listening to the various bits of chatter on their radio.
"Alright, it's 2am," Henry stated, "take me home, O chariot driver . . ." Nougat scoffed.
"Wiseass," he shot back to the amusement of both parties.

They came upon another red light when the radio flared up with what sounded like rather serious dialogue.
"ERT units on call report to Cambie and 49th, and be sure not to stop too close to the warehouses down there or else you might jeopardise the officer inside," the radio operator explained.
"Damn, sounds like somethin' wild's gonna go down . . ." Henry said before trailing off; he looked towards his partner and saw his expression change dramatically. "Noug'?"
"Y'know, we're about five minutes' drive away from there . . ." Nougat said. "And, since our shift's over, it's not like we're gonna be leaving our posts or anything . . ." After being paired with the newest member of the team several times over the past few months, Henry already knew what Nougat was thinking.
"No Noug', let's not do this," he said, trying to convince his partner to change his already made up mind.
"Come on now," Nougat said, an impish smile growing on his face, "what are the odds that Flint could actually be there? This just sounds like a big bust, and I wanna see it up close.
"Damnit, I knew it was a bad idea to let you drive! Take me . . ."

Once the light turned green, the excited constable floored it.


[So check this out . . . final exam's on Tuesday, so going by my story schedule, that'd put me in writing the night before. Clearly we can't have that . . . . . that said, this shall be the ONLY time I write two chapters in consecutive days for this story. So yeah, I guess I'll see you all tomorrow. Peace!]
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