Wednesday, March 17, 2004 — St. Patrick’s Day

I finished watching the original Mobile Suit Gundam series yesterday evening.

It was quite a journey. I was frankly blown away at the mature storytelling in Gundam — and it’s not “mature” in the sense of blood and guts. Mobile Suit Gundam is about war, in all its folly and nobility. The other Gundam series are clearly doing their best to live up to the original Gundam, and I don’t think any of them have come close to equalling it.

The series excels in practically every area except perhaps animation quality (“perhaps” because it was, after all, made twenty-five years ago; there wasn’t all that much one could do with animation back then) and directing style. I’m incredibly impressed.

And now, on to the VR story, where the girl Doodlehopper has managed to save Thomas and they are now fleeing his apartment.

She hissed and yanked him into a side hallway, then shoved him into a doorway and slammed herself into the meager cover it allowed. She slipped her right hand into her jacket and held it there, and for a moment only breathed. Thomas decided it wisest to press himself against the door and stay just as silent as her.

Footsteps thundered down the hall they’d just vacated. They sounded like linebackers charging a quarterback. They ran past the side hallway within which Thomas and the girl were barely breathing, and Thomas could only see nondescript jeans and sweatshirts hanging off massive bodies. These guys could withstand some serious punishment. He wondered why they needed to.

The thundering pack had barely passed their hallway when Doodlehopper leapt forward, pulling Thomas with her, bolted towards the intersection, and ran down the hallway away from the Linebackers From Hell. He glanced back over his shoulder, horrified that they might notice the escapees, but he could see those huge shapes retreating down the hallway without so much as slowing down.

They approached the elevators at high speed, but Doodlehopper veered away and slammed her body into the door leading to the staircase, banging it open. Thomas winced in sympathy, but far from seeming hurt, she gathered up the force of his piling into her body and redirected it, pushing him towards the top of the stairs.

He took the first few steps one at a time, then she pushed him again and he found himself falling more than stepping down the stairs, barely keeping himself on his feet as he leapt down three or four steps at a time. And she was right behind him.

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