Realistic or Modern name

[Error 420]

The incongruent geometries of the gogolplex lock into place. The swirling features of the man melt into a warm feeling. He's watching you but he's hiding it. He's listening but he just smiles and waits. The damperous floor wafts slowly beneath. Damperous damperous

hello

hello

how can i help you

you can help me

hello

goodbye

The waves float gently past, waving, swirling, melting. The stamping stomping rattling through. Ticking, ticking, the walls continue onwards glowing. Glowing. Bright.

Waiting desperately. If you're a good boy she's coming. If you're a good boy. Are you a good boy?

>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

>yes

you're a good boy. she's coming. she promised.

love her.

the flashing fasts and the heart beats and the noises surround you. you're a good boy. you take your pills. good boys take their pills. the pills make you sad but good boys take them. bad candies. the chocolates of denmark were hearty and tasted of copper and blood. vietnamese candies soothed you to sleep. you miss those places, don't you? the isles and the orient.

we could go there, if you like. would you like to go there? to the orient?

>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

>yes

you used to hate the orient. going there made you sad, but the noises faded and the tears stopped.

In the streets of a Vietnam village you rode with your comrades in the 14th Cavalry. Your patrol came to be known as the Jokers, not only within the base but to the natives you came in contact with. Your antics caused a few problems and piles of paperwork, but your friends and their kind hearts bred a sort of kinship between the men and women of the village and the alien visitors of the US Army. It was one of the few places in Vietnam where an American could walk into a bar and expect a warm smile, and a Vietnamese woman could walk alongside a soldierboy without expecting to be raped. This time was a brief solace for you amidst your life, full of fear and toil. The hustling motor of schoolhouses and workhouses and your father's house couldn't paddle its way over the Pacific to find you. A country was at war, but for the time being, you were at peace.

There you are, in this village in this time. The cerulean sky of the Orient fills the broad top of your vision, with the jade jungles on every horizon. The hum of the wagon carrying you on your patrol nearly lulls you to sleep, but you are viciously and powerfully awaken literally and spiritually by the site of the woman by the road. She was the one beauty held close to your heart, the ultimate destination you felt this journey to the Orient meant for you to find. In this enclave of serenity among jungles of fire, there was singular, powerful love.

Don't you remember my face, John?

the ticking of the tocks shocks you. the waiting continues. the tocks sing to you, lie that you have not waited long but it has been long. you're still waiting. they're all staring at you. they're waiting to jump. the woman stares into her knife because she's going to use it on you. they wouldn't do this to you if you were a good boy.

if you were a good boy they'd leave you alone.

are you a loyal soldier?

>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

Dax
The album slides onto the player, proclaiming its vinyl hymns, sweetly serenading in its laquered melodies.



There you are, in that village in the Orient so long ago. She's there, embracing you warmly, singing along to the Shirelles, making up her own lyrics when her limited understanding of the English language failed her. There you are, in her arms, in her melodies and in her own melody of boundless love. The vivid colors of the jungle sunset swirl and tumble in your mind, effervescent hues of gold, red, and green.

The song nearly brings you to tears of elation as you raise your rifle to your shoulder and kill that boy.

Do you remember his face? Do you remember the way his mother cried, soldier boy?

You gently drift to sleep in her arms.

it's breaking apart. the strings of flesh and fire tumble and fall. you did this. this is your fault. you're not a good boy at all. you deserve this.

are you sorry for what you did?

>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

Dax
the tears start.

its really nothing sir

yes

its not your fault

yes

its just meat

The sargeant's words ring in your mind. "It's just meat, recruits." You knew you could deal with marching and living in the deadliest territory on Earth, but ending a life? That's different. You regret every mother's child you made sure would never make it home. No amount of sorry would fix that. You knew you were bound for Hell when your time was up, but when you were with her you were in Heaven. You repaid that debt in the Netherlands. By your estimation, it was Heaven in the seventies, and she agreed.

the woman approaches through the sea of honey and spices that you crossed. the screaming starts and the memories start. shes there screaming and it makes you want to scream too. you don't remember why.

she opens her mouth to cascading static. she's from heaven. she's one of God's angels your father warned you about.

are you afraid of God's angel?
>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>no

 

[Error 420]

Dax
God's angel is beautiful. of course you are not afraid. seeing God's angel makes you happy. the counter woman carries her knife but puts it down because she is afraid of God's angel. the rows of endless food bow to God's angel. the man at the door said hello but he was afraid too.

The greatest and least strenuous connection you had with your father was the Sunday mornings you spent reading the Bible under an old oak tree in the yard. On this Sunday, the long yellow grasses blow back and forth, swaying gently under the grey Georgia sky, the clouds looking down on you, waiting to rain on you. Here, in the roots of the old oak tree, there was a reverance, a tenderness in your father's eyes that were always affixed longingly on the horizon. You felt as though the stories about the Apostles were little windows into the fortress that was his mind, not allowing you in but giving you a glimpse at what was hidden behind his mask of indifference. It seemed as though the stories were meaningless to him, but it gave him a connection to the world and to your mother.

You turn the page. The words form slowly in your mind, the characters familiar but confusing. You read, stumbling, a passage from the book called Revelations. You stumble on a word, but your father mutters the pronunciation to you. He's gazing wistfully off in to the distance.

God's angel smiles warmly. she seems to be prying for information too, trying to get into your head. the cameras are watching, waiting for your answers. waiting for you to tell them about where your base is where your mother is.

do you know where your mother is?
>yes
>no

 

[Dax]

>no

 

[Error 420]

Dax
Your father was a silent man, and even more silent upon mention of the woman that was your mother. Your only knowledge of her originated from scrapbooks of USO glamour shots from the war: uniform clad women with five-inch heels raised above their heads and sparkles so bright they filled the faded image with white. Many had a little heart drawn on the bottom in red lipstick, each with the same dark-haired woman in the center, a smile as wide as the Pacific. You wouldn't hear about her from him, and you wouldn't hear anything else, save for the Gospel.

It was on board a dingy outside of a town you couldn't pronounce that you started disappearing. The police were watching you. They waited. You heard their sirens. They found you and they are coming for you. she's not safe here. the three of you are wanted. the ocean wants you. the waves are coming to take you to hell where you belong.

God's angel is in front of you. her glow wafts and sniffs through the waters of linoleum. her wings wrap the boundries of your soul. she's here to help you. she's protecting you. you are not afraid of God's angel. For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone. her hands reach out to you.

do you take God's angel's hands?
>yes
>no

 

[Epiphany]

> Heck yeah!

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

> Heck yeah!

>yes

you reach out your hands to hers. the warmth of her soul conducts into yours. her smile fills you with determination and wonder. Here you are, and here she is. You missed her so dearly. The flickering lightsof the seafood aisle illuminate her dark skin in a wondrous glow. Your eyes demand you to take her out of this harsh light that cast a single shadow of non-beauty on her. You look into her eyes and you see your own. You see safety. Her mouth crinkles and bounces and statics and the brights scream at you. they're all screaming at you. you want to break them but you don't because they'll catch you and they'll take you to hell.

Your patrol was on their last ever patrol. Just one more and you'd move on to the next town. You would dearly miss the six months you spent here and the girl you saw there. You would see her again, once this war was over, but you didn't know how long that would be. The jeep slowly tumbles down the mud road, the hot rain of the jungle slowly coming down from the heavens. The sky was overcast with dense clouds being torn around by quick winds. Your comrades make a toast of whisky and begin giggling out a rendition of Auld Lang Syne. You join in for the first line, but your mind is too occupied with thoughts of your beloved to continue. You look wistfully on the village of peace and brown huts, low to the ground. Children play in the mud, cackling with endless joy. Another boy, a teenager, perhaps, runs towards your jeep. You remember what you did to that boy. You killed him, but you didn't remember why. It was a secret that lurked in the darkest chambers of your nightmares, always out of reach. But now you see it again. In his hand, a grenade, his arm back to throw it.

From the ashes, you hunted him and you ended him.

hello

God's angel watches you. she's waiting.

you're here
where did you go

hello
can you hear me?

>yes
>no

 

[Epiphany]

>Yes

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

>yes

>Yes

She smiles and laughs shyly. She'd been on the beach before, but never like this. In her childhood, she marvelled in the hot waves of the South China Sea, exploring the jungled beach of Da Nang, lavishing in the dark blues of the water, not the bright white sands of Denmark. She claimed that she hated the icy cold waters, but she more likely hated it when you threw her in.

she's wading waiting waning in the icy

you were there when she came

she's come again

she's before you

she's speaking

yes i hear you

did you take it

no

take it, John.

>yes
>no

 

[Epiphany]

>Oh yes.

 

[Error 420]

>Oh yes.

take it
take the shot, white boy

the hellfire swirls black fire. your home is blood and loss. he looks and you see lastness. you pull the trigger.

God's angel stands before you, hand in hand. She smiles warmly. She's clearly disappointed in you, but she knows it's not your fault. With shaking hands, you reach into your pockets and pull out the medicine bottle, the white pills rattling against the orange plastic. Palming two into your mouth, you eagerly smile as a show of peace to her. She's so so familar, and you love her. Why can't you remember her name? What did those jungles steal from you? Why can't you think or speak or see? What's happening to you? Can you even do more than yes or no? Why are you here? YOU DESERVE THIS, JOHN. YOU BELONG IN HELL. YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF SO SHE WON'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH YOU ANYMORE. BUT ALL YOU DO IS SIT AND CRY BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT A REAL SOLDIER. YOU'RE A DISGRACE. THE MEMORIES ARE HERE BECAUSE YOU DID THEM. THEY WOULDN'T HURT YOU IF YOU DIDN'T DO THEM. IT'S YOUR FAULT. SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF. YOU KILLED HER.

SO TELL US, YES OR NO, JOHN? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO? YES OR NO?

 

[Epiphany]

> No.

 

[Error 420]

Epiphany Dax
And now we see John, hand in hand with his beloved daughter. Under the fluorescing lights, we see them move gracefully past the shelf where an employee stacks packages of meat that have fallen onto the floor back in their proper places. They meander through the aisles to the front door, and step out into the Georgia summer sun. It's harsh and bright and brilliant. They proceed to a sedan, which soon transports the two to a clearing outside of the city. The clearing is the yard of an old house from stories long ago, with a gravel drive that ends at an old oak tree in the center. John sits under the tree as his daughter retrieves a young child from the house and carries him in her arms to him. It's her son, a boy that John would never remember seeing before, and would never know the name of. He's happy, like he has been every afternoon like this. They play little games in the shadows of the old oak tree, running through the tall verdant grasses, the sun showering them with warmth in the glory of the blue skies. There they are, by the tree where John heard about the angels and the disciples. The oak tree where his father lie, his mother lie, and his beloved came to rest. Soon, he would come to rest here too.

And here we are, a mother, child beside her, a bible lying in the grass in the roots of the old oak tree. She holds him in his arm, the sun setting in the West, gone to visit her mother's homeland, and the land her father found, and unfortunately, lost himself.

"Do you want to hear the story again, John?"
>Yes
>No

 

[Dax]

>yes

 

[Error 420]

>yes

The incongruent geometries of the gogolplex lock into place. The swirling features of the man melt into a warm feeling. He's watching you but he's hiding it. He's listening but he just smiles and waits. The damperous floor wafts slowly beneath. Damperous damperous

hello

hello

how can i help you

you can help me

hello

goodbye

The waves float gently past, waving, swirling, melting. The stamping stomping rattling through. Ticking, ticking, the walls continue onwards glowing. Glowing. Bright.

Waiting desperately. If you're a good boy she's coming. If you're a good boy. Are you a good boy?

>yes
>no