S.O.S/Songs Of Sanity

[r3vange]

The butterflies in the stomach...associated with love and excitement since forever. The feeling that
uplifts...what a boring feeling. Things that make sense to normal human beings are completely
uncoordinated to the deranged mind. The simplest signs that define human emotion; happiness, love, hate,
laughter, cry were all merged into something so complex that it eventually became unreadable even to the
madness to that created. But then again can anyone define what is love? Can anyone put a definition behind
beautiful, ugly, annoying? It'€™s all a point of view'€¦ The beauty of the moment; the curved atmospheric glow
of Manhattan as the Sabre descended closer and closer to the surface, the air molecules which started
colliding with the hull living their last moments before igniting into a trail of plasma before being lost in
eternity

Lower Manhattan City. The cesspit formed under the most civilized place in the known universe. A breathing
living entity made of all wretched things a person can imagine, feeding off human misery and sin. In the
very heart of it was the reason for the infection - the ASL-SS 1 '€œLiberty'€. Like a splinter in the middle of a
searing wound with power cables running to and from it as if they are arteries helping to spread the viral
infection. Down below the sun rarely shines obstructed by the mile tall skyscrapers, power lines, elevated
skyways and landing pads. The Manhattan from the news and magazines was somewhere '€œup there'€
separated by thousands of light years from the streets that Maria was now walking. The crowded streets lit
by decaying neon signs, filled with lowlifes all of sorts, robots made of an unholy union between several
metal bodies born in the perverse dreams of some two bit lane hacker, street vendors selling various goods
and food, cars slowly making their way through the crowds...all pulsating. Martinez loved that pulse, the
pulse of wild life left to develop on its own accord in the technological jungle. Yes, the technology and
architecture of the lower city were quite literally taking the piss off Neo Art Deco styling of the upper city.
The buildings hidden in the bowels and adjacent to the foundation of the skyscrapers did not progress much
past the technological level of the landfalls.

Down in this paradise of wickedness Maria felt at home. A place where everyone of the million people was a
madman in his own right out pursuing his goals begging for scraps in the dark alleys or just heading to the
nearest bar or club to get stupidly drunk and start some form of misconduct. She was not here to get drunk,
not that she could, she was not here to make another shady deal which would grant her a hefty sum of
money, she was out hunting, hunting for somebody else'€™s excitement. Her part was over, she was down
there already. What limited control she could exert over her shattered mind she did. Now it was all instinct
given away only by that barely noticeable curve at the end of her lip forming a rather maniacal smile.

And the instinct kicked in. Going to a local dive '€œTech Noir'€, ordering a sidewinder fang, running her
unusually long and rather sharp nails along the glasses'€™ rim, aware that inevitably somebody will come to
her driven by his own instincts. She would smile, laugh, drink and dance turning into a massive neon sign
promptly stating the obvious '€œCome take me'€. Eventually she will draw him closer as they dance, kiss him
and seal his fate. Martinez'€™ DNA was almost 47% Cardamine strands, her kisses were quite literally
poisonous, her body fluids could get the average human intoxicated and utterly helpless within minutes. And
when her words finally started to make sense broken through the prism of his Cardamine clouded brain she
would go home with him and show him how badly the butterflies in the stomach can be broken'€¦

[/size]

---