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+--- Thread: Shingen Aida (/showthread.php?tid=44077)
Shingen Aida - Ramuthra - 07-18-2010
-...Stars ... Hundreds, thousands of them. Some are blindingly bright, seemingly big fat dots in infinite space; some are so small that sometimes disappear from sight. Some light with calm conciliatory light; some blinking nervously, as if were alarmed. All of them are scattered countless myriads of all-consuming abyss of space.
Their light differently manifested itself. Some, melancholically moving its existence through a long time, not too generously bestow a warmth to the own system’s planets, making them a kind of giant ice blocks. Some the contrary, due to its irresistible activity, free and clear burned the surface of all the nearby celestial bodies, while also creating a wide dead zone by a horrible radiation. And only a tiny number of ‘the chosen’ stars have the privilege to bestow a life upon their own worlds, taking care of them like a loving mother. One of these stars was the star of New Tokyo...-
These thoughts kept coming to mind of the young man Kusarian origin, lying on a rather hard bed in a room, placed in a densely populated residential bay of the station. A small porthole allowed contemplate the very picture of the previously described, though not in the form of colorful because of the dirty stains on the solid glass. It was early morning - despite the fact that it is hard to understand what o'clock it is in space, an ultra precise man's wristwatch and wall ones that were installed on each corner of the station allowed to cope that problem.
Shingen Aida - it was the name of the young men - specially woke up so early to "dip the mind into the cool water of reflection and contemplation," as he called it. It was usually used like this: he wakes up at dawn (though he did in his own home, on the space station sunrises are still technically impossible) and thought, not wasting a single motion. From early childhood he was accustomed to a life of contemplative stillness. It was such an early hour (around 5 am) he understood many things that at other times not or simply not paying attention. Around 6 am Shingen was asleep again for an hour or two, then woke up completely.
The Shingen's workplace fully explains his whereabouts - Shinjuku station, the headquarters of the Samura. Most recently, he left home after years of grueling studying at the Economic Institute of New Tokyo and the Flight Academy of the same origin to occupy an important position in the social structure of the empire through the income on the job in the largest Kusarian keiretsu. This was the dream of life as for Shingen's parents, as for himself. Though he had already missing his native places...
Suddenly, to the right of the bed, where the desk stood, there was a prolonged squeak - obviously, it was the sound of an incoming message received via small-sized transmitter. Shingen, though being surprised (he didn't get much messages), but slowly got out of a bed and walked to the desk:
[font=Times New Roman]
Shingen gave a sigh of frustration. First, because of the dryness of the letter; the second - his girlfriend hadn't written to him herself. Having a quick look at his watch, he began to dress - it was time to work...
Their light differently manifested itself. Some, melancholically moving its existence through a long time, not too generously bestow a warmth to the own system’s planets, making them a kind of giant ice blocks. Some the contrary, due to its irresistible activity, free and clear burned the surface of all the nearby celestial bodies, while also creating a wide dead zone by a horrible radiation. And only a tiny number of ‘the chosen’ stars have the privilege to bestow a life upon their own worlds, taking care of them like a loving mother. One of these stars was the star of New Tokyo...-
These thoughts kept coming to mind of the young man Kusarian origin, lying on a rather hard bed in a room, placed in a densely populated residential bay of the station. A small porthole allowed contemplate the very picture of the previously described, though not in the form of colorful because of the dirty stains on the solid glass. It was early morning - despite the fact that it is hard to understand what o'clock it is in space, an ultra precise man's wristwatch and wall ones that were installed on each corner of the station allowed to cope that problem.
Shingen Aida - it was the name of the young men - specially woke up so early to "dip the mind into the cool water of reflection and contemplation," as he called it. It was usually used like this: he wakes up at dawn (though he did in his own home, on the space station sunrises are still technically impossible) and thought, not wasting a single motion. From early childhood he was accustomed to a life of contemplative stillness. It was such an early hour (around 5 am) he understood many things that at other times not or simply not paying attention. Around 6 am Shingen was asleep again for an hour or two, then woke up completely.
The Shingen's workplace fully explains his whereabouts - Shinjuku station, the headquarters of the Samura. Most recently, he left home after years of grueling studying at the Economic Institute of New Tokyo and the Flight Academy of the same origin to occupy an important position in the social structure of the empire through the income on the job in the largest Kusarian keiretsu. This was the dream of life as for Shingen's parents, as for himself. Though he had already missing his native places...
Suddenly, to the right of the bed, where the desk stood, there was a prolonged squeak - obviously, it was the sound of an incoming message received via small-sized transmitter. Shingen, though being surprised (he didn't get much messages), but slowly got out of a bed and walked to the desk:
[font=Times New Roman]
| Incoming message |
| Comm ID number: 266894530 |
| Subject: Konnichiwa, son |
Konnichiwa, How are you? We're fine. Recently your cousin visited us. I am glad that during the war, he is also healthy as ever, hope you're happy too. By the way, Natsu gave you greetings. In general, I don't have anything more to tell. Write if there's something wrong.
[font=Times New Roman]<div align="right]Your mom with love.| Comm ID number: 266894530 |
| Subject: Konnichiwa, son |
Konnichiwa, How are you? We're fine. Recently your cousin visited us. I am glad that during the war, he is also healthy as ever, hope you're happy too. By the way, Natsu gave you greetings. In general, I don't have anything more to tell. Write if there's something wrong.
Shingen gave a sigh of frustration. First, because of the dryness of the letter; the second - his girlfriend hadn't written to him herself. Having a quick look at his watch, he began to dress - it was time to work...
Shingen Aida - Ramuthra - 07-18-2010
Bar. Few familiar faces, some unfamiliar, random number was gaijins, mainly Rheinland origin. After exchanging mutual greetings to the all met, man continued his own way. Customarily looking round the menu, he turned to the bartender:
"Konnichiwa, my friend"
"Oh, konnichiwa, Aida-san. How goes it?"
"Like always, - smirked Shingai. - What can you tell me about sorta interesting? Perhaps the rumors or what like?"
The bartender moved his thoughtful look at the ceiling: "Can't promise. Maybe you should ask other people in the room"
Despite the fact that Shingen had looked at the seated/standing people in the room, he hadn't intended ask anyone. If the bartender had not been able to tell, then he either had not wanted to talk (what a young man was doubting), or there had been really nothing to tell about.
Instead of asking, Shingen shifted his gaze back to the menu. The bartender nodded:
"The same order as usual?"
"Yes, perhaps. A plateful of rice with wasabi and sma-a-all glass of Sake. Please take it to that table "- Shingai pointed his finger at the table nearest to the door.
"Okay, will be done right now"
"Arigato, my friend"
"Konnichiwa, my friend"
"Oh, konnichiwa, Aida-san. How goes it?"
"Like always, - smirked Shingai. - What can you tell me about sorta interesting? Perhaps the rumors or what like?"
The bartender moved his thoughtful look at the ceiling: "Can't promise. Maybe you should ask other people in the room"
Despite the fact that Shingen had looked at the seated/standing people in the room, he hadn't intended ask anyone. If the bartender had not been able to tell, then he either had not wanted to talk (what a young man was doubting), or there had been really nothing to tell about.
Instead of asking, Shingen shifted his gaze back to the menu. The bartender nodded:
"The same order as usual?"
"Yes, perhaps. A plateful of rice with wasabi and sma-a-all glass of Sake. Please take it to that table "- Shingai pointed his finger at the table nearest to the door.
"Okay, will be done right now"
"Arigato, my friend"