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"The Ishimaru Nanaho Login" - A SoJ Oekaki.

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(Oekaki is Japanese for scribble or doodle).


Here's a eldritch piece I wrote some years back, but might now be revaluated (a warm feeling) in the context of the brilliant "Secrets of Japan". Not quite a hook, not a full scenario, part weird tale, part brain-storm - a bunch of odd ideas that might start a pachinko-cascade in some Keeper's head out there... :wink:


"The Ishimaru Nanaho Login"


Akimoto’s concept of beauty would always swing to the magnetic north of orange sodium streetlamps. Basic fears would begin as metaphysical scribbles on her palmtop. Ninja lacquer gradually dried on her fingernails with all the grace of coy carp. Wishes & dreams fluttered; data flowed. The worn oval plastic windows of the 777 Boeing framed the black & Lucozade motherland. Interface at night, turning gracefully. It had crackled open, cross-roads interconnecting; mountains had long passed underneath.


‘Modern ghost stories manage to shake up my scabbed sense of security’ she began quickly jotting down with the stylus. Her knowledge Interface wouldn't get her out of this mess of pretension - “It was never anything at its best, assuredly; never anything save foolishness. Still, the City lit up on a summer night, with its extravagant electronic towers & walls, pavilions & domes & minarets, with all its fretted & fantastic work, with its still lakes & pouring waterfalls; in those old days before the war she has no doubt that it symbolised joy & enchantment to young & simple hearts. But afterwards, when long neglect had told upon it, when winter rains had wept upon its walls & soot showers had drifted on its pavilions, when the summer suns had scorched its whiteness, and black March winds had torn its feigned embroideries & false ornaments, when many autumn storms had beat upon its plaster battlements & the waterfalls were stilled & the lakes were become obscene pits of slime & rubbish - what an ugly mockery it stood there, and idiot’s city fallen into ruin, a scenic fairyland in evil days.â€Â


“So my Tokyo became like ‘Ridleyville’, magic down at heel, its enchantments silly & clumsy tricks, its mystic architecture a shabby sham, its strange encounters, meetings with people who turned out to be bores or worse that bores. You know the story of fairy gold: at night the man who had had happy commerce with the People of the Hill found himself enriched with boundless & wonderful treasure; but in the morning the marvel of gold had all turned into a heap of dead leaves; such was my case.â€Â


Technologically Adept Otaku Ohm Gekiga made her think that the 'Land of the Rising Sol Invinctus' was contaminated. Shoko Asahara & his nasty cyberpunks have some of the best weapons tech & top scientists working on doomsday plans. The Counter-weight cults therefore had access to world's most advanced tech. But as a writer, her invective was to concentrate her energy through the keyboard. The eternal mystery of Tokyo given the dazzling result: Her heroes had taught her that. Where were her London Otaku-coven counterparts? Writing was cheap entertainment for the hard-of-means. If she survived that encounter with Destiny, and didn’t find herself face-down riddled with gunshots on some distant tropical Pacific beach WWII style, she would have some existential security, the pact at the empty heart of the void, replacing experience for the secret knowledge of life. Naval Intelligence in the early 21st century was not a matter of ship-to-ship state strategies as in the past. A new horizon appeared, tomorrow glimpsed in the first rays over the distant horizon.


Meanwhile in Ikebukoru the PISCES cell, whilst analysing her screen’s mutation looked quickly through their ‘English’ studies websites & well-thumbed manga journals to clock these symbols. Little did Akimoto Emi realise that their computer-generated map-ball was a port-to-port navigational chart to the location of Mu, symbol of a civilisation that held all the cards before the last Ice-Age; pre-pagan whispers muffled out by our noisy age. Poor Yoshio got the duty to fix the broken foremast. Ito, Haruko, Yoshio, Kazuo, Kai & Hitomi all threw their Togo hats high in the air at the end of this exciting possibility, and these immediately banged against the ‘Mikasa’ mastergrade model hung about 130cm above them. When they all met to watch their favourite real-life webshow “Akimoto Emiâ€Â, they all wore a variation of the school uniforms the once wore as children & teenagers: Naval. It was Akimoto Emi’s moment to become a true Heroine. Ito even had a dutiful contact in southern Britain who knew someone at the costume department for United productions, so they all supplemented their costumes with damaged wardrobe from Ioan Gruffudd’s “Hornblowerâ€Â. Their apartment walls were plastered in Wachowski brothers prototypes, and near-‘perfect’ metal, wood & cloth models of early 20th C. battleships hung from the ceiling on fishing wire. The Otaku cell had trained alongside with untrustworthy British Psionics, in a Royal Naval style.


The effect of the whole 3D graphic was hypnotic. It was exactly the right kind of information you need to destroy a monstrosity. “You coward, you want to run away & destroy the ship... With all due respect, if you were any other man I would kill you where you stand†Hirokai growed in his best pigeon-Michael Dorn/Patrick Stewart. Hiroaki, Ito, Haruko Yoshio, Kazuo, Sawako, Kai & Hitomi comprised a unisex Anglophile ring; too much noise in the world, obviously. The sound of builders hammering away next door did nothing to distract them. When run through a sound processor, it sounded like drums anyway, like prefecture Kodo & also similar to Hitomi’s antique vinyl “Merringues & Folk Ballads†LP in her DJ box. But not too shabby.


Akimoto began to use her System Applications Protocol models on top of this financial bauble. As her fingers blurred across the keyboard, mouse clicks barking each command-line, she could see the change beginning. Maybe one fine day a well-hidden, but professional crew would record their foibles too & transmit them to the world (little did she actually suspect). First to establish a sphere which could represent the planet; then to map onto that all the financial & economic flows from each multinational & bank. Storm systems seen clearly, protean TV vortices over South America & L.A. especially. Kazuo loved the natural unknowing way that Akimoto Emi was oblivious to the international “Big Brother†webcast. The colour information vectors didn’t just move over the orb like water-vapour & wind, they seemed to intersect through the core of the planet.


With each scenario opened from her files, she could see the near-future effect, for up to about a week. Once this globe was programmed with the data of the last two week’s mercantile transactions & business fluctuations (pulled off Nasdac), it began to resemble a logo-heavy weather-system. Military Conceptual Artists, the “Sainte Roger†media group had switched up this new entertainment in the early noughties, and had expanded operations [and international market] by merging with “Debörd Dèsignsâ€Â, a ‘secret society’ of €-commerce ‘billionaires’ who’d seen the burst coming, the meteorology of money. Hitomi laughed most ‘unlady’-like at the audio argument they made. These could easily indexed to the shifting geographies of nation-state, pulled off the current web. There was talk [online] of a cable digital series, with plot arcs & other western memes. The Australian band had yet to be totally convinced before they blocked the infamous ‘British Newsprint dogs’; but that was just a plane ride away for face-to-face party with their ‘undustry’ fellows. If you looked at the system, examined its perimeters fully, you’d see that it not only had the ability to restructure any corporate infrastructure on the planet to a more efficient & trustworthy profit, but it had the very ability to control reality.


Kazuo, to show the cell proof of his real focus in 2001, had sent the Sainte Roger Co., by international UPS (not to arouse suspicion), seven hand-helds that his ‘mate’ Keni Ryuno snuck out from Sony R&D during an ‘Oticon’ raid. The whole network could be rearranged to generate the ultimate model for commerce & logistics. Ito & Haruko had practised Koga Ninpō together since high school, and now spent alternate weekends gathering cheap blisterpacks of pin-mikes & minute tele-lenses. How ‘merry’ would they all be to keep this secret from seven Subjects of the Crown; Sawako painted a vivid scene where local glances & gossip about the main characters would reach fever pitch; a holy grail in some Alternative Reality Gaming circles. Sawako, when giving the ‘crew’ a rousing speech at the start of March, had sent shivers down their spines: soon all of Tokyo itself would know about this spectacular performance that was taking place under their noses. It was a million butterflies flapping their wings in unison, making more turbulence than the complex arrangement of data in our world could handle.


The Chapterhouse’s PDAs began listing the new directives:

*Regency armchairs. *Eagle Street. *Crystal Shine technology. *Sandland Street. *Hugo Boss. *Great Turnstile. *Chanel levres Scintillantes.


The title screen read:

WIND -When moving, you must be fleet like the wind.

FOREST-When stopping, you must be still like the trees in a forest.

FIRE- When attacking, you must be ferocious like the searing flames of a fire

MOUNTAIN-When defending, you must be immovable like a mountain.

CLOUDS-When hiding, you must completely disappear, as though behind dark clouds.

LIGHTNING-When advancing, you must be sudden like lightning, allowing the enemy no chance for retreat.


Related Websites for SoJ Keepers:











Who wants to do a cadavre exquis (exquisite corpse) and continue this?

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