(no subject)
So, it turns out my Sunday wasn't a total waste.
Uptime: 7 years, 5 months, 14 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, 35.65 seconds
Amun-Ra stood at the edge of the world, staring outward at the endless, trackless waste. He strained his eyes against the wind and flying grit, hoping to catch some sign of his quarry. It was a futile hope, of course. The Friar was cagey and had sizable head start, but the Hidden One was not worried. The man was soft and wizened, lacking the expertise required to survive in the harsh conditions beyond. He would be caught.
Once more, Amun-Ra reminded himself not to underestimate his old foe. On two occasions, Ra had fallen victim to his cunning and the sheer recklessness of the flight into the desert proved he did not lack for courage. Death among these dunes might well be true death, or as close to it as Arcadia allowed. Even on the edge, days or weeks might pass before a nomad stumbled across the body and collected his restore tithe. Where The Friar ventured, there would be no chance whatsoever.
And yet he followed. Though a competent tracker, an experienced survivalist, and a warrior almost without peer, Amun-Ra felt vulnerable and exposed. The Friar's risk was only slightly greater than his own. Arcadia was his everything. The cost of failure here would be exile to an old life dimly remembered. Only one thing could explain the Friar's actions: he must have solved the Riddle.
Uptime: 5 years, 2 months, 19 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, 35.65 seconds
"Let me get this straight," the girl said, leaning in, "you get paid to play a game?"
"Not just any game," he replied, grinning. "Arcadia." He tilted his head back, angling for a better view down her loose-fitting t-shirt. BAANGSHINS it exclaimed in huge, English lettering. She couldn't be more than seventeen, with a round face and an earnest, if somewhat dazed, expression. "Do you watch the gaming channels?"
She nodded, taking his cigarette out of the ashtray. "You do look familiar. What did you say your name was again?"
"Joo-chan Rhee. . . Doctor Joo-chan Rhee. You might have seen me on one of the news shows a few months back. It was a big deal at the time."
"It's not a big deal anymore?" She asked, straight faced.
He laughed. "Not in the news cycle, no, but I'm still a pretty big deal in Arcadia. A lot of people didn't like it and put up a fight to keep me out."
"That's dumb. What for?"
"They thought having an avatar owned by an incorporated entity instead of a player violated the terms of use. A few of the more wealthy players got together and lawyered up to try and stop it, but it didn't turn out so well for them. I feel bad about it, really. It was pretty bitter stuff, and a lot of people have bruised egos over it."
She had finished smoking his cigarette and leaned back. He wondered if he was boring her. Since taking the job, the expected increase in luck with women had not materialized. He had imagined himself seducing girls by offering them the secrets of the world's most exclusive online game. Instead, it always went like this. Even the game-obsessed - of which there were millions - did not want to hear about games they couldn't play.
"I'm not boring you, am I?"
She grinned. "A little. I don't care about that shit, really. I'm just about killing things. People can keep their dramatics to themselves. It sounds like a pretty cool job, though. Must have a pretty top-rate system if you're a pro."
"Pretty good, yeah, but not as good as I'd like. I'm not sponsored by Samsung or Filia or anything. The Arcadia Group is just a small pool of investors, not some huge multi-national."
"Fully immersive?"
"Yeah. Optical, tactile, auditory - the works. Freon cooled." "Sounds pretty nice. My parents say we can't afford all that." She frowned. "I'm still on Flat. Can I have another one of your cigarettes?"
Joo-chan tapped one out for her, and lit one himself. "Thanks, I'll be right back." His fantasies had also not taken into account his life-long inability to read the opposite sex. At thirty, he had not yet turned fully to sexual despair, but "disappointing" did not even begin to describe his recent sexual history. He watched her walk off and wondered if she had noticed him looking down her shirt. He took a long drag, sighed, and turned back to his laptop.
"Hey!" chipped a familiar voice. "I said I'd be right back. If I was bothering you, you should have said something."
He turned back to her. "Sorry."
"How come you never even asked my name?"
"I didn't?"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, rubbing out her cigarette. "I have to go. Thanks for the smoke."
And with that, she really was gone.
He closed his laptop, packed up his things, and left the cafe. As he rode home, he played through the conversations he wished he'd had and grew more annoyed by the mile. Dr. Rhee decided was finished with the real world for today.
Uptime: 4 years, 6 months, 14 days, 3 hours, 46 minutes, 12.00 seconds
"Let me cut right to the chase, Dr. Rhee," the man said, "I represent the interests of a small, recently incorporated LLC, men who believe that a man of your knowledge and skills could be a real asset to their organization."
"Thank you for saying so, Kobayashi-san, I'm certainly interested in hearing more." Joo-Chan had been told very little since Mr. Kobayashi's call three weeks ago inviting him to Tokyo for an interview. The Arcadia Group, the name of the company, had arranged his flight from Seoul to Tokyo and referred him to their corporate website, where pages of company history, mission statements, and corporate vision went into a great deal of detail about everything except the actual mission and vision of the company. All Joo-chan had been able to figure out was that the company had some sort of technology focus, had offices in Tokyo and San Francisco, and had a website totally maintained by one M. Watanabe. When he arrived in Tokyo, he also learned that The Arcadia Group kept a dizzying array of nondisclosure agreement forms on hand.
"I'm glad to hear it. May I offer you a drink, then?" Mr. Kobayashi stood and walked over to an expansive liquor cabinet. He was tall and lean, with wide shoulders and a long gait. Judging his age was difficult, as his long, craggy face had a peculiarly timeless quality about it. He could be as young as forty, but Joo-chan had the feeling he was much older. Kobayashi poured himself a glass of amber liquor and Joo-chan gratefully accepted water with lemon.
"We have our eye on you for some time, actually. Your dissertation is brilliant, and its success since publication is well earned. As you have already no doubt guessed, the group I represent is interested in the online game Arcadia, and you are already considered by some to be the foremost authority on Dr. Suzuki's life and work."
Joo-chan sipped his water and listened, nodding and asking no questions. While his book had received high praise, critical success in the academic world had little real value. Universities stopped giving tenure in anything that didn't produce grant money years ago, and Joo-chan's innovative case-study had only earned him one seat among the hundreds of low-paid adjuncts that made up the Department of Social Sciences at Seoul National University. Whatever Mr. Kobayashi's firm was offering, it had to be an improvement.
He was not disappointed. The monetary compensation alone would have made him jump at the opportunity, but as Kobayashi explained the job, it became clear that it was meant for Joo-chan. According to Kobayashi, the investors agreed with his theory that there was something deeper to Arcadia, and they had put up sizable amounts of capital to find out what. It seemed to Joo-chan a lot of expense and risk for very little reward, but it was their money.
"Is this some sort of tax shelter or something?" Joo-chan asked, suspiciously. "Even if there is something to Arcadia, I don't see it being anything of value."
Kobayashi allowed himself a good-natured laugh, which helped put Joo-chan at ease. "The Arcadia Group does presently operate at a loss, yes, but the board of directors is sincere in its belief that there is potential enough to justify the short-term losses."
"I didn't mean to suggest-"
"Oh, I understand completely. Please, do not hesitate with questions. The job is yours to be had or declined, so feel free to ask anything you feel you need to know."
"Thank you, Kobayashi-san. I'm curious - How do you fit into all of this?"
"Chief legal officer, human resources, public relations, and employee number one. I'll also be acting as your liasion to the Board of Directors."
"Employee number one, hm? What's that make me?"
"Employee number two, of course."
"What about Watanabe-san?" Joo-chan asked, hoping to impress his new boss with his extensive research efforts.
"Who's Watanabe-san?"
(in progress. Feels more like a long short than a novel.)
Watched the final two episodes of Rome last night. Felt bad for ol' Caesar watching him get hacked up. Knives are very awkward tools to assassinate. (Sorry for the lack of spoiler warning. There is a statute of limitations to these things.)
In exchange for making DVDs of Lost Season Two (to date), my mom gave me some provisions. Going to try to make it to February without going to the store. Shouldn't be a problem, though I'm running short on canned food.
Off work today. Got to go spend money to get iPod fixed, drop off some laundry, and go to lunch with autrice. Maybe a lesson plan, too.
Uptime: 7 years, 5 months, 14 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, 35.65 seconds
Amun-Ra stood at the edge of the world, staring outward at the endless, trackless waste. He strained his eyes against the wind and flying grit, hoping to catch some sign of his quarry. It was a futile hope, of course. The Friar was cagey and had sizable head start, but the Hidden One was not worried. The man was soft and wizened, lacking the expertise required to survive in the harsh conditions beyond. He would be caught.
Once more, Amun-Ra reminded himself not to underestimate his old foe. On two occasions, Ra had fallen victim to his cunning and the sheer recklessness of the flight into the desert proved he did not lack for courage. Death among these dunes might well be true death, or as close to it as Arcadia allowed. Even on the edge, days or weeks might pass before a nomad stumbled across the body and collected his restore tithe. Where The Friar ventured, there would be no chance whatsoever.
And yet he followed. Though a competent tracker, an experienced survivalist, and a warrior almost without peer, Amun-Ra felt vulnerable and exposed. The Friar's risk was only slightly greater than his own. Arcadia was his everything. The cost of failure here would be exile to an old life dimly remembered. Only one thing could explain the Friar's actions: he must have solved the Riddle.
Uptime: 5 years, 2 months, 19 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, 35.65 seconds
"Let me get this straight," the girl said, leaning in, "you get paid to play a game?"
"Not just any game," he replied, grinning. "Arcadia." He tilted his head back, angling for a better view down her loose-fitting t-shirt. BAANGSHINS it exclaimed in huge, English lettering. She couldn't be more than seventeen, with a round face and an earnest, if somewhat dazed, expression. "Do you watch the gaming channels?"
She nodded, taking his cigarette out of the ashtray. "You do look familiar. What did you say your name was again?"
"Joo-chan Rhee. . . Doctor Joo-chan Rhee. You might have seen me on one of the news shows a few months back. It was a big deal at the time."
"It's not a big deal anymore?" She asked, straight faced.
He laughed. "Not in the news cycle, no, but I'm still a pretty big deal in Arcadia. A lot of people didn't like it and put up a fight to keep me out."
"That's dumb. What for?"
"They thought having an avatar owned by an incorporated entity instead of a player violated the terms of use. A few of the more wealthy players got together and lawyered up to try and stop it, but it didn't turn out so well for them. I feel bad about it, really. It was pretty bitter stuff, and a lot of people have bruised egos over it."
She had finished smoking his cigarette and leaned back. He wondered if he was boring her. Since taking the job, the expected increase in luck with women had not materialized. He had imagined himself seducing girls by offering them the secrets of the world's most exclusive online game. Instead, it always went like this. Even the game-obsessed - of which there were millions - did not want to hear about games they couldn't play.
"I'm not boring you, am I?"
She grinned. "A little. I don't care about that shit, really. I'm just about killing things. People can keep their dramatics to themselves. It sounds like a pretty cool job, though. Must have a pretty top-rate system if you're a pro."
"Pretty good, yeah, but not as good as I'd like. I'm not sponsored by Samsung or Filia or anything. The Arcadia Group is just a small pool of investors, not some huge multi-national."
"Fully immersive?"
"Yeah. Optical, tactile, auditory - the works. Freon cooled." "Sounds pretty nice. My parents say we can't afford all that." She frowned. "I'm still on Flat. Can I have another one of your cigarettes?"
Joo-chan tapped one out for her, and lit one himself. "Thanks, I'll be right back." His fantasies had also not taken into account his life-long inability to read the opposite sex. At thirty, he had not yet turned fully to sexual despair, but "disappointing" did not even begin to describe his recent sexual history. He watched her walk off and wondered if she had noticed him looking down her shirt. He took a long drag, sighed, and turned back to his laptop.
"Hey!" chipped a familiar voice. "I said I'd be right back. If I was bothering you, you should have said something."
He turned back to her. "Sorry."
"How come you never even asked my name?"
"I didn't?"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, rubbing out her cigarette. "I have to go. Thanks for the smoke."
And with that, she really was gone.
He closed his laptop, packed up his things, and left the cafe. As he rode home, he played through the conversations he wished he'd had and grew more annoyed by the mile. Dr. Rhee decided was finished with the real world for today.
Uptime: 4 years, 6 months, 14 days, 3 hours, 46 minutes, 12.00 seconds
"Let me cut right to the chase, Dr. Rhee," the man said, "I represent the interests of a small, recently incorporated LLC, men who believe that a man of your knowledge and skills could be a real asset to their organization."
"Thank you for saying so, Kobayashi-san, I'm certainly interested in hearing more." Joo-Chan had been told very little since Mr. Kobayashi's call three weeks ago inviting him to Tokyo for an interview. The Arcadia Group, the name of the company, had arranged his flight from Seoul to Tokyo and referred him to their corporate website, where pages of company history, mission statements, and corporate vision went into a great deal of detail about everything except the actual mission and vision of the company. All Joo-chan had been able to figure out was that the company had some sort of technology focus, had offices in Tokyo and San Francisco, and had a website totally maintained by one M. Watanabe. When he arrived in Tokyo, he also learned that The Arcadia Group kept a dizzying array of nondisclosure agreement forms on hand.
"I'm glad to hear it. May I offer you a drink, then?" Mr. Kobayashi stood and walked over to an expansive liquor cabinet. He was tall and lean, with wide shoulders and a long gait. Judging his age was difficult, as his long, craggy face had a peculiarly timeless quality about it. He could be as young as forty, but Joo-chan had the feeling he was much older. Kobayashi poured himself a glass of amber liquor and Joo-chan gratefully accepted water with lemon.
"We have our eye on you for some time, actually. Your dissertation is brilliant, and its success since publication is well earned. As you have already no doubt guessed, the group I represent is interested in the online game Arcadia, and you are already considered by some to be the foremost authority on Dr. Suzuki's life and work."
Joo-chan sipped his water and listened, nodding and asking no questions. While his book had received high praise, critical success in the academic world had little real value. Universities stopped giving tenure in anything that didn't produce grant money years ago, and Joo-chan's innovative case-study had only earned him one seat among the hundreds of low-paid adjuncts that made up the Department of Social Sciences at Seoul National University. Whatever Mr. Kobayashi's firm was offering, it had to be an improvement.
He was not disappointed. The monetary compensation alone would have made him jump at the opportunity, but as Kobayashi explained the job, it became clear that it was meant for Joo-chan. According to Kobayashi, the investors agreed with his theory that there was something deeper to Arcadia, and they had put up sizable amounts of capital to find out what. It seemed to Joo-chan a lot of expense and risk for very little reward, but it was their money.
"Is this some sort of tax shelter or something?" Joo-chan asked, suspiciously. "Even if there is something to Arcadia, I don't see it being anything of value."
Kobayashi allowed himself a good-natured laugh, which helped put Joo-chan at ease. "The Arcadia Group does presently operate at a loss, yes, but the board of directors is sincere in its belief that there is potential enough to justify the short-term losses."
"I didn't mean to suggest-"
"Oh, I understand completely. Please, do not hesitate with questions. The job is yours to be had or declined, so feel free to ask anything you feel you need to know."
"Thank you, Kobayashi-san. I'm curious - How do you fit into all of this?"
"Chief legal officer, human resources, public relations, and employee number one. I'll also be acting as your liasion to the Board of Directors."
"Employee number one, hm? What's that make me?"
"Employee number two, of course."
"What about Watanabe-san?" Joo-chan asked, hoping to impress his new boss with his extensive research efforts.
"Who's Watanabe-san?"
(in progress. Feels more like a long short than a novel.)
Watched the final two episodes of Rome last night. Felt bad for ol' Caesar watching him get hacked up. Knives are very awkward tools to assassinate. (Sorry for the lack of spoiler warning. There is a statute of limitations to these things.)
In exchange for making DVDs of Lost Season Two (to date), my mom gave me some provisions. Going to try to make it to February without going to the store. Shouldn't be a problem, though I'm running short on canned food.
Off work today. Got to go spend money to get iPod fixed, drop off some laundry, and go to lunch with autrice. Maybe a lesson plan, too.