01-17-2010, 04:40 AM
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[color=#33CC00][font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Y...
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Save entry as:
"Ananda's Diary"
Oh yes... my creativity is unmatched.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Recording initiated...
My mom bought this diary for me fifteen years ago, and obviously it's been empty and untouched this whole time. I guess you could say that I never felt my life was worth sharing with anyone, let alone saving it for future access. I've gained enough confidence in myself over the last few days to give this diary another chance.
So where do I begin? My name is Ananda Acosta and I'm a Manhattanite to the fullest. I was born in Jamaica Medical Center on Queens Island on 02.06.796. My parents, Felix Javier and Amanda Acosta, moved from Queens to the mainland just three years after my birth, because of my father's job relocation. He was an engine mechanic for the Liberty Navy. Yes... I was a navy brat. He would spend most of his time repairing and maintaining grounded heavy fighters, and every so often I would have the opportunity to see my daddy at work. I remember clinging tightly to his leg as a child, calmly asking him to stay with me and my mom every time he was sent for duty. He's been the only man in my life.
I grew up in Washington Heights, and much like the days on old Earth, most residents of the neighborhood had a little bit of what Earthlings would call "Latin-American" blood.
My mother worked as a barber a couple of blocks down the street. My mother was such a strong woman, yet stubborn as hell. She suffered from acute chest pains from time to time. Whenever I noticed her clenching her chest and asked what was wrong, my questions would be immediately dismissed. She was always so protective, always fabricating excuses and lies to keep me worry-free. I'm sure I shortened her life by asking so many goddamn questions.
When I was four years old, I can vividly remember spending one particular day with my father. It was the last day that I would ever see him. He would always tell me stories of his experiences in the navy, and I would become so mesmerized. Half the time I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but just hearing him was enough to make me feel warm inside. I hugged him tightly before he was finally transferred to Norfolk.
It was the beginning of the Nomad War, and most of us were fooled into believing that we could trust Manhattan's most influential politicians and commanders. Within a few months of my dad's departure, my mother was informed that he was killed in action. He was onboard of the dreadnoughts that was destroyed in the Alaska blockade... I can't recall the name of the ship. At the time, I was too foolish and young to understand why daddy never came home. My mother's face strained as she forced herself to hold back her tears in front of me.
While attending public school, I would always try to find some way to express my fascination with Liberty Navy technology. I wanted to grow up to be just like my daddy. Well, as most people do, I matured and slowly disconnected myself from those visions. My mother was forced to work two separate jobs just to pay rent at our small apartment. When I turned sixteen, I applied for my pilots license with hopes that I would be able to share the financial burden with my mother. Her heart has already suffered enough, literally.
I had become practically anti-social after I was hired as a package carrier for the Manhattan Postal Service. I never really had anything to say to anyone during class, I ate lunch by myself, unless of course some random guy stopped by to flirt with me. I was good at making guys feel awkward, as I really couldn't allow myself to be tied down to a relationship that would probably end after graduation anyway. Immediately after class I would change into my dazzling, head-turning brown uniform with black boots, Ha, yeah... and would take the shuttle to the nearest MPS office. With the scores I had received on my pilot aptitude exam, I was qualified to fly small civilian freighters along my routes.
I was beginning to struggle with coursework by the time I was a senior. I started seeing my mother less as the days went on. I would come home so late, only to find her passed out on the sofa, too exhausted to even take off her clothes from work. The days that I was able to speak to her, I desperately asked her to go to the doctor for her pains. It was almost as if she just didn't have anything to live for anymore. She was so goddamn stubborn. The most I could do for her now was continue working for the MPS.
She died two weeks later... cardiac arrest. I was informed by our neighbors that the paramedics made their way into the apartment while I was gone for work that evening. I noticed several LPI officers and neighbors outside the complex as I looked out the window of the shuttle. As I got off, I immediately took a quiet stroll down the block. I put on my headphones and listened to the only genre of music that can put me in a relaxed, spiritual state of mind. A tear slowly streamed down my cheek.
Neighbors and close friends of my mother managed to afford a decent funeral for her. I didn't attend. I was done grieving.
Another day shipping packages to lazy bastards. I remember trying to find time to cram for an exam. I like having full control, so I was very uneasy putting my freighter in autopilot between shipments. I would put on my headphones, listen to my music while reading up on classical hyperdimensional physics. My body was thrown forward against my restraining belt. I could hear the sound of rubble falling against my freighter's shield. I opened my eyes to see the amazed stare of fifty or so consumers shopping for food at the local megamarket. I seriously just crashed into a store. I saw several shoppers lying on the ground motionless. I just closed my eyes and let out a long sigh...
Here, let me pull up my record real quick:
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Failure to pay rent on time...
[color=#CC0000]LEASE TERMINATED. FAILURE TO LEAVE THE PREMISES WITHIN A WEEK WILL RESULT IN...
Okay... enough. What else?
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Charges...
[color=#CC0000]RECKLESS FLYING: FAILURE TO YIELD TO AIR TRAFFIC.
DESTRUCTION OF PUBLIC PROPERTY
Lawsuits...
Urgh, I really don't want to look through this. At least they should be happy for being alive.
[color=#33CC00][font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Debt accumulated for trial costs, fines, lawsuits...
My face just got really hot. I'm turning this off now before I combust. I eventually dropped out of high school. After pleading with my boss, I managed to keep my job. Credits were low, and I couldn't afford to pay rent anymore. My mother's friends and neighbors offered to help, but sorry, I can't just accept credits like that. I don't want to be a burden to others. *Sighs* I'm just like her...
I removed my essentials from the apartment. My civilian freighter had become my temporary home. When I had saved up enough money for the cheapest 1/1 apartment I could find on the upper east side, I told myself I could finally try to live a normal life again. For three years I've been living this life, struggling to find a decent way to make credits to pay off my debts. Oh I've tried looking for a new job, but without a GED as a minimum, and with zero references and credentials, all of my resumes have been rejected. I've been told I have gorgeous eyes... being a Washington Heights prostitute is not an option, thanks. Despite my short-comings I still have a sliver of self-respect left in me. Seriously though, in these days models are required to be to some degree intellectual, and unfortunately I don't have much to provide without a completed high school education. I could have tried to go back to school, you know, finish what I started. If I forced myself to work less during the week, I wouldn't have enough money to pay for electricity. I was such a mess.
Several nights ago, I became bold... really bold. I was done with Manhattan. They don't lie about the high cost of living here, and I just couldn't handle it. I thought about heading out to low orbit, something I've never done my whole life. Once the LPI catches a glimpse of the company logo on my freighter, they'll definitely know something's up. Besides, I'm sure the MPS will detect their ship heading into restricted space at escape velocity from their headquarters. After my shift, I traveled around the barrio, hoping that I could find at least one ship I could commandeer without being noticed. Call it a ridiculous stroke of luck, but I stumbled across a damaged Junker CSV with its canopy open. I'd never noticed it there before, and I had no other options.
It was way too easy. The damn keycard was still there! Oh well, at that point I didn't give a damn about what could happen to my reputation with the Junkers, I was outta there. I took off immediately without thinking of the ramifications of my actions. The CSV could have been rigged to blow upon engine ignition, but that didn't stop me from approaching escape velocity and viewing Manhattan from space for the first time. I felt so anxious, all the way down to my stomach.
*Sighs*... finally. Manhattan looked so beautiful from space. I could see the bluish-green reflection of the atmosphere on my flight suit. Perspective is such a complex concept. Seeing the planet from this view made me realize just how majestic it was. I can finally see my world from my father's point of view. I want to say I stayed in low orbit close to thirty minutes, just mesmerized by the scene while thinking about my parents. I woke up from my trance and decided I would move out of Liberty and see if I could find some work as a freelancer.
Several jump gates later, I entered Manchester and tried to settle down at Sheffield Station in orbit around Jersey. The planet was so reflective that planetshine was visible behind the station, causing Sheffield to appear fully illuminated. I docked with the station and took a deep breath of air. Immediately I saw a Bounty Hunters Guild recruitment poster. It read: YOUR PAST DOES NOT MATTER WHEN YOU BECOME A BOUNTY HUNTER. ONCE YOU JOIN THE GUILD, ALL IS FORGOTTEN.
Oh really? Whoever made that poster is a genius, because it completely won me over. I tried to freshen myself up and look presentable before walking into the recruitment office. I happily can say that I had enough flight experience to be a recruit, and was accepted automatically. I've been training at the station for several days now, and I have to admit these days have been very thrilling. I feel like I've been revived. I guess you can say I've found my calling.
Today, I've become affiliated with the Bounty Hunters Guild and I've started getting all of the paperwork sorted out so I can begin preparing an application to submit to the guildmasters. I'm currently lying in bed in the living quarters of the station, with my headphones on of course, just dreaming about what comes next. *Yawns* This music is going to put me to sleep, so I guess I'm done with this entry.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Saving...
COMPLETE
Wow, I spoke for that long? Holy s***! Haha, I can only imagine who would have the patience to listen to my voice for that long without thinking, "damn, you are one boring bitch. Stop talking, please." Oh man... hahaha! Okay, turning this off... now.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Status:
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#CC0000]OFFLINE
COMPLETE
This archive is empty. Would you like to create a new log?
(Y/N)
*Sighs* Yeah, I'm finally ready.
[color=#33CC00][font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Y...
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Save entry as:
"Ananda's Diary"
Oh yes... my creativity is unmatched.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Recording initiated...
My mom bought this diary for me fifteen years ago, and obviously it's been empty and untouched this whole time. I guess you could say that I never felt my life was worth sharing with anyone, let alone saving it for future access. I've gained enough confidence in myself over the last few days to give this diary another chance.
So where do I begin? My name is Ananda Acosta and I'm a Manhattanite to the fullest. I was born in Jamaica Medical Center on Queens Island on 02.06.796. My parents, Felix Javier and Amanda Acosta, moved from Queens to the mainland just three years after my birth, because of my father's job relocation. He was an engine mechanic for the Liberty Navy. Yes... I was a navy brat. He would spend most of his time repairing and maintaining grounded heavy fighters, and every so often I would have the opportunity to see my daddy at work. I remember clinging tightly to his leg as a child, calmly asking him to stay with me and my mom every time he was sent for duty. He's been the only man in my life.
I grew up in Washington Heights, and much like the days on old Earth, most residents of the neighborhood had a little bit of what Earthlings would call "Latin-American" blood.
My mother worked as a barber a couple of blocks down the street. My mother was such a strong woman, yet stubborn as hell. She suffered from acute chest pains from time to time. Whenever I noticed her clenching her chest and asked what was wrong, my questions would be immediately dismissed. She was always so protective, always fabricating excuses and lies to keep me worry-free. I'm sure I shortened her life by asking so many goddamn questions.
When I was four years old, I can vividly remember spending one particular day with my father. It was the last day that I would ever see him. He would always tell me stories of his experiences in the navy, and I would become so mesmerized. Half the time I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but just hearing him was enough to make me feel warm inside. I hugged him tightly before he was finally transferred to Norfolk.
It was the beginning of the Nomad War, and most of us were fooled into believing that we could trust Manhattan's most influential politicians and commanders. Within a few months of my dad's departure, my mother was informed that he was killed in action. He was onboard of the dreadnoughts that was destroyed in the Alaska blockade... I can't recall the name of the ship. At the time, I was too foolish and young to understand why daddy never came home. My mother's face strained as she forced herself to hold back her tears in front of me.
While attending public school, I would always try to find some way to express my fascination with Liberty Navy technology. I wanted to grow up to be just like my daddy. Well, as most people do, I matured and slowly disconnected myself from those visions. My mother was forced to work two separate jobs just to pay rent at our small apartment. When I turned sixteen, I applied for my pilots license with hopes that I would be able to share the financial burden with my mother. Her heart has already suffered enough, literally.
I had become practically anti-social after I was hired as a package carrier for the Manhattan Postal Service. I never really had anything to say to anyone during class, I ate lunch by myself, unless of course some random guy stopped by to flirt with me. I was good at making guys feel awkward, as I really couldn't allow myself to be tied down to a relationship that would probably end after graduation anyway. Immediately after class I would change into my dazzling, head-turning brown uniform with black boots, Ha, yeah... and would take the shuttle to the nearest MPS office. With the scores I had received on my pilot aptitude exam, I was qualified to fly small civilian freighters along my routes.
I was beginning to struggle with coursework by the time I was a senior. I started seeing my mother less as the days went on. I would come home so late, only to find her passed out on the sofa, too exhausted to even take off her clothes from work. The days that I was able to speak to her, I desperately asked her to go to the doctor for her pains. It was almost as if she just didn't have anything to live for anymore. She was so goddamn stubborn. The most I could do for her now was continue working for the MPS.
She died two weeks later... cardiac arrest. I was informed by our neighbors that the paramedics made their way into the apartment while I was gone for work that evening. I noticed several LPI officers and neighbors outside the complex as I looked out the window of the shuttle. As I got off, I immediately took a quiet stroll down the block. I put on my headphones and listened to the only genre of music that can put me in a relaxed, spiritual state of mind. A tear slowly streamed down my cheek.
Neighbors and close friends of my mother managed to afford a decent funeral for her. I didn't attend. I was done grieving.
Another day shipping packages to lazy bastards. I remember trying to find time to cram for an exam. I like having full control, so I was very uneasy putting my freighter in autopilot between shipments. I would put on my headphones, listen to my music while reading up on classical hyperdimensional physics. My body was thrown forward against my restraining belt. I could hear the sound of rubble falling against my freighter's shield. I opened my eyes to see the amazed stare of fifty or so consumers shopping for food at the local megamarket. I seriously just crashed into a store. I saw several shoppers lying on the ground motionless. I just closed my eyes and let out a long sigh...
Here, let me pull up my record real quick:
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Failure to pay rent on time...
[color=#CC0000]LEASE TERMINATED. FAILURE TO LEAVE THE PREMISES WITHIN A WEEK WILL RESULT IN...
Okay... enough. What else?
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Charges...
[color=#CC0000]RECKLESS FLYING: FAILURE TO YIELD TO AIR TRAFFIC.
DESTRUCTION OF PUBLIC PROPERTY
Lawsuits...
Urgh, I really don't want to look through this. At least they should be happy for being alive.
[color=#33CC00][font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Debt accumulated for trial costs, fines, lawsuits...
My face just got really hot. I'm turning this off now before I combust. I eventually dropped out of high school. After pleading with my boss, I managed to keep my job. Credits were low, and I couldn't afford to pay rent anymore. My mother's friends and neighbors offered to help, but sorry, I can't just accept credits like that. I don't want to be a burden to others. *Sighs* I'm just like her...
I removed my essentials from the apartment. My civilian freighter had become my temporary home. When I had saved up enough money for the cheapest 1/1 apartment I could find on the upper east side, I told myself I could finally try to live a normal life again. For three years I've been living this life, struggling to find a decent way to make credits to pay off my debts. Oh I've tried looking for a new job, but without a GED as a minimum, and with zero references and credentials, all of my resumes have been rejected. I've been told I have gorgeous eyes... being a Washington Heights prostitute is not an option, thanks. Despite my short-comings I still have a sliver of self-respect left in me. Seriously though, in these days models are required to be to some degree intellectual, and unfortunately I don't have much to provide without a completed high school education. I could have tried to go back to school, you know, finish what I started. If I forced myself to work less during the week, I wouldn't have enough money to pay for electricity. I was such a mess.
Several nights ago, I became bold... really bold. I was done with Manhattan. They don't lie about the high cost of living here, and I just couldn't handle it. I thought about heading out to low orbit, something I've never done my whole life. Once the LPI catches a glimpse of the company logo on my freighter, they'll definitely know something's up. Besides, I'm sure the MPS will detect their ship heading into restricted space at escape velocity from their headquarters. After my shift, I traveled around the barrio, hoping that I could find at least one ship I could commandeer without being noticed. Call it a ridiculous stroke of luck, but I stumbled across a damaged Junker CSV with its canopy open. I'd never noticed it there before, and I had no other options.
It was way too easy. The damn keycard was still there! Oh well, at that point I didn't give a damn about what could happen to my reputation with the Junkers, I was outta there. I took off immediately without thinking of the ramifications of my actions. The CSV could have been rigged to blow upon engine ignition, but that didn't stop me from approaching escape velocity and viewing Manhattan from space for the first time. I felt so anxious, all the way down to my stomach.
*Sighs*... finally. Manhattan looked so beautiful from space. I could see the bluish-green reflection of the atmosphere on my flight suit. Perspective is such a complex concept. Seeing the planet from this view made me realize just how majestic it was. I can finally see my world from my father's point of view. I want to say I stayed in low orbit close to thirty minutes, just mesmerized by the scene while thinking about my parents. I woke up from my trance and decided I would move out of Liberty and see if I could find some work as a freelancer.
Several jump gates later, I entered Manchester and tried to settle down at Sheffield Station in orbit around Jersey. The planet was so reflective that planetshine was visible behind the station, causing Sheffield to appear fully illuminated. I docked with the station and took a deep breath of air. Immediately I saw a Bounty Hunters Guild recruitment poster. It read: YOUR PAST DOES NOT MATTER WHEN YOU BECOME A BOUNTY HUNTER. ONCE YOU JOIN THE GUILD, ALL IS FORGOTTEN.
Oh really? Whoever made that poster is a genius, because it completely won me over. I tried to freshen myself up and look presentable before walking into the recruitment office. I happily can say that I had enough flight experience to be a recruit, and was accepted automatically. I've been training at the station for several days now, and I have to admit these days have been very thrilling. I feel like I've been revived. I guess you can say I've found my calling.
Today, I've become affiliated with the Bounty Hunters Guild and I've started getting all of the paperwork sorted out so I can begin preparing an application to submit to the guildmasters. I'm currently lying in bed in the living quarters of the station, with my headphones on of course, just dreaming about what comes next. *Yawns* This music is going to put me to sleep, so I guess I'm done with this entry.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Saving...
COMPLETE
Wow, I spoke for that long? Holy s***! Haha, I can only imagine who would have the patience to listen to my voice for that long without thinking, "damn, you are one boring bitch. Stop talking, please." Oh man... hahaha! Okay, turning this off... now.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#33CC00]Status:
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium][color=#CC0000]OFFLINE