post 415 ~ over the weekend…
ah, even with the extra hour over the weekend, i still felt busy or that i didn’t have enough time to do what i wanted… burning more downloads onto DVD, printing more wallpapers for my DVD-case covers, trying out my Canon EOS 350D Digital Rebel XT, working on my “otaku merchandising” article, catching up page-by-page on my magazines, starting my letter to Anouck (afterwards, i’ll start one to Anna), even resisting the urge to cut some tiresome LJ’ers from my list… AND not only that, DAMN, tons of anime!… whether i was sampling an episode, starting or continuing a series, here are the 16 titles i was able to watch… from dramatic to humorous to mediocre:
Black Blood Brothers, Eureka Seven, Giant Robo, Gokusen, Gun Parade March, His and Her Circumstances, Ichigo Mashimaro (Strawberry Marshmallow), Jinki Extend, Kujibiki Unbalance, Le Chevalier D’Eon, NANA, Nana: Seven of Seven, Negima!? (Alternate Storytelling), Pia Carrot, Shakugan no Shana, Space Pirate Mito
meanwhile, here’s my first post for the LasVegasOtaku.org role-playing fiction “Firefly-Class Bebop“, a multiple-writer story based on a mix of the sci-fi “Firefly” and anime “Cowboy Bebop”…
~01a~
“Uh,” Jacob “Jayman” Mandara gasped as he jumped back into consciousness.
Rubbing the sandiness from his still-natural right eye, the 30-something-old Eurasian captain of the Firefly-class transport Bibo Opto looked up and gazed beyond the transparent dustshield. Another typical starscape. He checked the auto-pilot. Nothing out of the ordinary. With several blinks and left-eye movements, he triggered the digital time display within his green-irised ocular implant. 23:11. Still on schedule. Well, that is, if he remembered everything.
Occasionally, he’d wonder about chucking it all out the window. No more bounty hunting. No more trading to cover up his bounty hunting. No more Guilds, Networks and Syndicates to mess with, keep secrets from, or take jobs for. And no more wandering about the solar system in a rusty bug-shaped bucket with half a sandwich in his gut and half a hope in his heart.
Ah, hope. He chuckled to himself. It felt like a bad joke. Bibo Opto. Latin for “to drink” and “to desire or wish for”. Or more poetically, “I drink, I dream.” Not that he cared much for poetry. Just something his ex-wife used to play around with. Yeah, when she didn’t play hooky with rookie pilots. That’s probably how the abbreviation Bebop stuck. One of their former pilots made a half-assed jest and she thought it was cute. Definitely a bad joke.
Jayman shook his shaved head, and eye-flickered off his time display. Time. How time flies. Has it been six months since the Companion joined his so-called crew? He shook his head once more and lazily activated the interweb news wave, as the starlight laughed at him from the distant black.