Challenge accepted

As I was making my rounds of IP on the TV ranges last week, someone decided (or so he thought) to throw me a curve ball. The challenge that I was unable to come up with anything new was a given. 

I accept

So here is the initial part of something new, I let you be the judge (although my version of ‘How to kill a politician‘ is still on odds favourite to see getting an academy award for (we all have dreams). And of course to make that movie in Saudi and play part in the Netherlands should be great fun in promoting chaos (which is always nice).

But here without delay is a taste of something different.

The smiling lady

in a place that seems to look like most other places, all whilst there was little to no sound this place had its own noise, the rustling of fallen leaves, the noise of the wond puishing pieces of a newspaper, the soft sound of electricity as it powered lights. The view we see could be a place in London, Paris, or a specific place in New York, Los Angeles or Hong Kong. Yet, if we were to speed to these places, the sounds would be ever do sdifferent, not hugely so, but in the smaller details a little different and the woman who was casually walking these streets, she would know, she saw everything, heard everything and took notice of all the details, she looked in one part like any woman, a stunningly gorgeous one, making step after step through the street, lust looking around her and taking in the view. In either of these places a man would approach and as the man approaches her, her good looks would be the reason for him to do what he would do, for no other reason that he thought it was his risght, and as he approached her all versions were the same, she merely smiled at him and he would feel a sweet sensation as life would fade from him, he would fall to the ground wondering why he felt so good in the final minute of his life, and she would continue like there was nothing else that mattered, she would continue on her path, in this case towards the left, she caressed the knob of a door and it opened, she entered and cimbed the stairs, closing the door behind her. 

She climbed the stairs only to get to the door of an apartment, she entered the apartment hearing the soft sobbing of a girl, in the bedroom this girl had just given birth, holding onto the baby like there was no tomorrow, the lady smiled, she softly talked to the woman and caressed her arm. She blew over her face and the girl started to smile, still looking at her small born baby, she muttered a few words and left life behind. The woman took the baby and softly kissed it on the forehead, she placed the baby next to the mother, the phone in the other room fell off the hook, the number 999 was auto dialled. Even as the other side was giving of a faint ‘hello’, she knew that actions were taken to find out where this was. a vague faint shape was next to the woman now, she saw that life was inside the baby and the shape felt happy, the woman gave a small kiss to the little baby and covered the baby and put it next to the mother, the woman smiled and looked at the shape ‘Come, your work is done’, she slowly ushered the shape to follow her The shape was seemingly a little taken aback when she asked ‘Who are you’, the woman looked and with a happy face she said ‘I am Macaria, come you’ll be late, you will see your child again when it has done what it must do and it will do so much’, both moved towards the window as both faded away and they had left just as the ambulance people walked into the room seeing the deserted place revealing only a dead young woman and a crying baby. 

Violence and Chaos

It was a warm day in Cannes, a man was walking on the Boulevard du Midi Louise Moreau, on the footpath, seeing the water on his left side, and looking over the waters as he walked towards a large building. He saw less than half a dozen people, he liked the empty space that he normally would not get to see in this place, in an hour or so he tourists would be awake, all wanting to see a part of Cannes and another day of mayhem would begin. He took a small sip of his water flask. The water was icy cold, he liked that feeling of cold water, he always had. He kept to himself and slowly walked past people. Yet in an instance, one person was seemingly happy to seek chaos, he shouted something the man was not listening to, yet when the stranger attacked, he found himself thrown into the water like a raggedy Andy without any consideration. His friends were suddenly making noises and shouting at the man, he gave them no look at all, when two of the men walked towards him shouting he merely lifted a small ornate pugio from under his T-shirt, the casualness and the lack of consideration they got made them whinge back, this is not the kind of person they usually deal with, and the Pugio was ornate, not some trinket knife, they felt quiet and moved back. The man merely walked on and slowly placed he knife from where he got it. He walked on towards a coffee place where he stopped for coffee and a baguette, As he sat, he felt a difference, he saw the people react to other people and it was not the usual reactions. it was like every person took offense and resentment to a person next to them, it took a few seconds, but he saw what as going on, there was a girl at the centre of it all, she was pretty and wearing shorts and a pink Tshirt with a golden apple printed on it, he knew her, but he had not seen her for for a long time ‘Well Hello’ he whispered to himself, he stood up to walk towards her, he looked around and quickly paid the standkeeper, and walked towards her, she noticed him and smiled just as he was about to cross the street two of the earlier bunch catched up to him and they made their final stupid mistake, as one sliashed out, his stright hand slammed like a chopping block into the side of his throat, the man was suddenly reflective on his lack to breathe, the second one had a small billy club which he used, only to miss and whilst he missed, the man kicked him in the side of his right knee, the man fell down and got his head slammed into the wall for good measure. The man walked to the girl, and stated ‘Well, look who we have here’, the girl looked surprised and puzzled for a second ‘Egan?’, the man smiled, “Yup, it’s me” and they both laughed for a second, within 10 seconds there was a lull, everyone seemed to relax a little, she looked around ‘I was bored’, “I noticed” Egan voiced. 

So here it is, a mere introduction to three characters in a new play, optionally a new tragedy, it took less than 10 minutes to think off and an additional 15 to type (and find a place to set the stage). When people ask me the question, how do you come up with IP, my answer tends to be the same, whether it is a device or a story, my mind can fathom beyond beyond the need to seem clever, I organise the weakness of one part and design a solution around it, when it is written IP it is different, I rely on a classical education and the option to dream. That is all that is required, and all this I should ever need. Oh and whilst I diod take notice of the requests of hardware IP, I ignore it because the registration of the IP I have there is limited to two players at present Google and Huawei, and there is a price, so whilst it sounds nice to put it all on paper, until the IP value is met, I will not make any haste in revealing the IP, unless I see that someone else has found what I did find at that point I will plaster it out in the open so that patents on what I initially designed will be harder to file.