Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor

Hello friends. It was a good week. I had a friend stay here which was nice, we had fun times. He made me buy an Xbox, which I did almost entirely so I could play Star Ocean 4, because it is my favorite series. I only had enough for the system so I am getting the game this weekend. In the meantime, I have been downloading ridiculous amounts of demos and playing those. Fun fun.

That's about it. Everything else I want to blog about right now is so ridiculously nerdy that to read it would actually reduce your own social life. The LEAST nerdy thing I can think of is how a manga page I just read was insanely inspiring and profound and oh GOD is that really all I have going on right now?

It's tough times, readers. I go to a school full of people who ostensibly exist outside of classrooms and all I seem to be concerned with is fake things.

Why doesn't it bother me more?

There's lots of movies I want to see. Coraline and Watchmen top this list. I understand going to the cinema is something humans often do, sometimes in some sort of group configuration. This would be a pleasant thing to do, I think.

Exciting times, my friends. Exciting times.

So, I'm in Simsbury at the moment, and there is a bit of a stir!

You see, a couple houses up the road from me, a man was apparently busted by a SWAT team who entered his home and found $600,000 worth of Marijuana, 400 plants between the greenhouse, basement and garage. This man had been stealing elecricity by bypassing his meter for something like five years, because he was using huge amounts of power for his lamps. He is 49 years old and being held on $75,000 bail.

This all went down Thursday night around midnight.

My neighborhood is full of nice-lookin' families full of pleasant people, guess you never know who's operating a pot ring on the block.

Although it sure explains all the weird cars that used to idle and circle the culdesack near my house.

Also! This week I have a good chum staying with me. Fun times and revelry seem likely to very likely. Mostly he'll play World of Warcraft and I'll play Star Ocean then we'll both play Smash Brothers. Considering the high (low) volume of human contact I maintain during the average week (I've been trying to up it but I'm a lazy man who's bad at being proactive!) it should fun times.

Three posts in one day? That's what I call VALUE.

So I know no one wants to hear about this but someone at work pointed me to this article:

http://www.courant.com/community/news/ec/hcu-stomachfluuconn-0217,0,4631517.story

So, let me get this straight.

Either one of my favorite types of food betrayed me in the worst possible way,

or I got a horrible disease during the two to three hours max that I spend on campus.


Awesome.

We 'bout to do it up LJ style

I looked back at my old Livejournal a couple weeks ago looking for some stuff I'd written. Especially near the end of when I was actually updating it, all I seemed to do was post these little memes.

So, in honor of nostalgia and putting off the things I have to do today, here you go:

A
- Available: Insanely
- Age: 21
- Annoyance: CELERY
- Allergic: nothing, I am biologically perfect
- Animal: penguinz
- Actor: Cillian Murphy/Rachel Mcadams

B
- Beer: mostly gross but sometimes I like to drink it symbolically
- Birthday/Birthplace: Like all Greeks I burst fully formed from my father's thigh at the beginning of time
- Best Friends: MY DREAMS
- Body Part on opposite sex: hair/eyes/face
- Best feeling in the world: the end of an episode of Lost
- Blind or Deaf: couldn't choose
- Best weather: gray skies so I can actually see, slightly chilly so I can wear a hoodie if I want
- Been in Love: nope
- Been bitched out?: Hell no, everyone worships me too much
- Been on stage?: Yes
- Believe in yourself?: Yes
- Believe in life on other planets: There's a billion of them out there one has to have some space prawns on it at least
- Believe in miracles: The end of an episode of Lost
- Believe in Magic: maybe
- Believe in God: maybe
- Believe in Satan: maybe
- Believe in Santa: maybe
- Believe in Ghosts/spirits: maybe
- Believe in Evolution: as a concept yes, as creation maybe

C
- Car: Hovercar
- Candy: Twix PB, Reverse Reese's
- Colour: what is this canada go to hell
- Cried in school: Not since 2nd grade!
- Chocolate/Vanilla: Chocolate, no contest
- Chinese/Mexican: Mexican because chinese gave me FOOD POISONING a couple days ago
- Cake or pie: Pie
- Countries to visit: England, Japan, Greece again

D
- Day or Night: Twilight
- Dream vehicle: Hovercar
- Danced: I never don't dance, if it looks like I'm not I'm just dancing a little
- Dance in the rain?: ^
- Dance in the middle of the street?: ^^
- Do the splits?: The splits? Speak ENGLISH


also no

E
- Eggs: iloveegg.com
- Eyes: Blue!
- Everyone has: to agree that Phil is great
- Ever failed a class?: Almost. Very very almost. Oops!

F
- First crush: I had a girlfriend in preschool, I was an extremely early bloomer
- Full name: My full name takes four days to say, a decade of practice to pronounce correctly, and if said in it's entirety will summon all the hordes of heaven and hell to your beck and call
- First thoughts waking up: I HAVE THE POWERRRRRRRRR
- Food: oh god don't talk to me about food right now

G
- Greatest Fear: Somehow becoming less great
- Goals: To continue to be this great
- Gum: Raspberry!
- Get along with your parents?: One yes, other unfortunately no
- Good luck charms: I AM THE CHARM

H
- Hair Colour: Dark brown
- Height: 6'1"
- Happy: I experience all emotions at once all the time
- Holidays: Don't get many :(
- How do you want to die: I wish to be impaled on the sword of my greatest enemy as I, in turn, deal his final blow. Blood- and rain-soaked, we will slowly look up at each other. Lightning will flash, and in that brief second we will smile at each other.
- Health freak?: Sometimez
- Hate: CELERYYYYYYY

I
(In guys/girls)
- Eye colour: Shape>color but green and blue are nice
- Hair Colour: Depends entirely on the cut and skin tone (wtf how gay)
- Height: Not too short
- Clothing Style: At this point anyone who's not wearing fuzzy boots or a north face fleece coat is alright. If someone has an actual style that compliments them it's probably great.
- Characteristics: awesomeness
- Instrument: Any girl who can't play a harp shouldn't even talk to me

J
- Jewelry: Totally doesn't work on me but I wear it anyway, but only 1 item at a time
- Job: World-famous write star

K
- Kids: Are awesome and love me, probably because we're the same amount into Power Rangers
- Kickboxing or karate: 13 years of Karate, hell yeah
- Keep a journal?: I'm writing a BLOG RIGHT NOW

L
- Longest Car Ride: I once drove a timecar 4,000 years into the past
- Love: Any food that's not celery
- Letter: Letters are neat
- Laughed so hard you cried: I don't remember, probably Office-related
- Love at first sight: Love at first BITE


M
- Milk flavour: CH-CH-CH-CHOCOLATE
- Movie: Labyrinth/The Breakfast Club
- Mooned anyone?: dear god no
- Marriage: I'm gonna marry a cougar for 5-10 years then take the money from the divorce once I get too old for her and go find someone to lovemarry
- Motion sickness?: Nah
- McD's or BK: Generally BK but McD for breakfast (MCGRIDDLES) and sometimes I just liek to go there because it's classic

N
- Number of Siblings: 1/2
- Number of Piercings: My dad's policy is to cut off anything I pierce
- Number: 4,567 - current amount of enemies felled

O
- Overused Phrases: I have so many I can't even list them
- One wish: For something really awesome to happen
- One phobia: Car crashessss

P
- Place you'd like to live: The Philium, an impossibly large mansion that stands on four lesser mansions so it never has to touch the ground
- Pepsi/Coke: C-C-C-C-COKE

Q
- Quail: I like their eggs
- Questionnaires: I fucking hate these things, if I ever fill one out I hope I die

R
- Reason to cry: Ending of Last Samurai
- Reality T.V.: SOBER HOUSE
- Radio Station: Chill on Sirius
- Roll your tongue in a circle?: I just tried to do like 4 different versions of this and I have no idea what it means

S
- Song: Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley
- Shoe size: 13 or 14
- Sushi: OMNOMNOMNOMNOM
- Skipped school: Only in collegez
- Slept outside: Couple times
- Seen a dead body?: Mhmm D:
- Smoked?: Nevar
- Skinny dipped?: Nevar
- Shower daily?: I refuse to go out if I've not showered
- Sing well?: A chorus of a thousand angels would weep to hear but one note emerge from my immaculate vocal chords
- In the shower?: Yes
- Swear?: Wouldn't it be funny if I answered this with something like "fuck no"
- Stuffed Animals?: I have exactly 2
- Single/Group dates: Well if I'm dating someone I assume I'm spending time with them singly anyway so group
- Strawberries/Blueberries: I'm iffy on both, they have to be REALLY GOOD
- Scientists need to invent: a cure for all diseases

T
- Time for bed: 2-5
- Thunderstorms: Saucesome
- Touch your tongue to your nose?: Yes!

U
- Unpredictable: Not horribly
- Under the influence?: Nah
- Understanding?: I understand all things

V
- Vegetable you hate: CELERY CELERY CELERY CELERY
- Vegetable you love: Mushrooms!
- Vacation spot: Mars

W
- Weakness: N/A
- When you grow up: I am ageless
- Which one of your friends acts the most like you: No one (else) is perfect
- Who makes you laugh the most: The cast of the Office
- Worst feeling: -food poisoning-
- Wanted to be a model?: Yeah, I think it'd be neat but I wouldn't wanna do it for a career
- Where do we go when we die: I haven't died and I don't know anyone who has so I really couldn't say!
- Worst weather: Humid heat, GROSS
- Walk with a book on your head?: Never tried!

X
- X-Rays: A few

Y
-Year it is now: I exist in a constantly warping time-stream, here it is every time and no time

jk it's 2009
-Yellow: Is cool

Z
- Zoo animal: PENGUINS
- Zodiac sign: Aries!



Good times.

Chinese food and I are SO in a fight right now

So Wednesday night I was talking with a friend about how much food poisoning sucks (I'd never had it, he had).

Little did I know I was going to find out.

Food poisoning sucks.

A Change Of Mace

I'm really into puns this week.

Anyway, I got my book proposal back today. It was actually ridiculously hard to write, because it's hard to decide what the selling points of a story are and get that across.

He warned us we'd all do bad, which is nice because it prepared me for how he (nicely, granted) tore my story apart, which I'm fine with because my proposal was super shaky at best. He said there may be a good idea in there but I need the thing that'll make it pop and be different.

The more I think about it, the more I'm not sure this is the book I should write. I don't think I'm suited to science fiction, really. Which I've said before, but for some reason people respond really well to the Runners chapters I've written.

So now I'm at kind of an impasse. Personally, I think my funny/weird writing (this shtuff) is much better because it has a lot more personality in it. I dunno if it's funny to people who aren't me or people who think like me, though. I feel like I want to switch my proposal to that ,hopefully I can do this before the one-on-one conferences next week because I really don't wanna have to talk about what a mess the outline I have now is.

I dunno why I didn't just stick with my instincts and go with that to begin with. Doing all this career shit just stresses me out. This isn't some random internet guy, this is a real writer and publisher.

I'm totally afraid of suceeding. How goddamn trite. I should have way more interesting issues than that.

Well, I am afraid of telephones. I guess that counts.

Not like all the time. But ringing phones freak me out. Sometimes to ridiculous degrees.

Unless it's from someone I want to hear from. Then ringing phones make me excited.

But that doesn't happen often.

Call me :(

Seriously though don't call me I'll roll up in a ball and eat cookies until the ringing stops.

Except actually I have a really cool ringtone now.

Actually voicemails are the worst. Those terrify me.

...Anyway I should probably pop out.

A Poem, Or Phil Avoids Studying for Three Minutes

An angel visited me today
It came down as the sun came up
I knew it was an angel because its feet
Would not touch the ground
It looked at me
And I looked at it
I asked it how things were going
And it said they were alright

L-O-V-E, or Lenny Ostensible Varies Enumerably

Today was Valentine's Day, which is a holiday that sparks either insane overwrought happiness, panicked stressful confusion, or dejected lonely bitterness. I like a holiday that appeals to everyone.

Given the activity of my love life (last time I went on a real date people were talking about starting a civil war) it is natural for everyone to assume that I would be lonely and bitter. There were also a lot of people who assumed that I had some fancy but low-key date arranged, which is actually far less offensive but far more depressing than people assuming I'd be alone and sad all night.

Neither proved to be true, because in deference to the winter holidays I actually like Valentine's day. I think it's cute, and it's no more unfair to people who aren't in love than Thanksgiving is to people who don't have families but it's a lot more personal so people take it badly. Also there's a lot of people who say you don't need to be told when to tell someone you love them but to be honest people are busy and sometimes we neglect things or people and it's nice to have a day where you remind people.

I guess what I'm saying is that as someone who has never had a date on Valentine's day (I came within two weeks last year, it should be noted) I don't really find it particularly depressing. I have a few stock movies I usually watch, a list from which I pick two based on what I feel like watching. As someone who considers moping a hobby, I like to do it in a structured and deliberate way, while not actually being at all sad.

You know, I think this is the kind of entry that's entirely uninteresting to anyone. People like to read about hot successful Valentine's Days, they like to hear about horrible disasterous Valentine's Days, and they like to hear about how much single people hate Valentine's Day (although only so they can think about how no one likes a complainer and that you should stop trying to ruin everyone's fun). I fall somewhere completely in the middle and that's horribly boring, don't you think?

If you would like to know how I spent my Valentine's Day: I worked in the morning, went to the mall with visiting friends and bought some jeans, went back to work, hung out with friends again and watched The Office for a few hours and came home to write a blog entry. It is a departure from my normal tradition but all in all it was a nice although uneventful day, and certainly better than my usual weekends where no one is home and I'm exclusively miserable rather than only in short bursts.

I guess what I'm saying is that I really, really like Twix PB.

STREET FIGHTER IV VIDEO APP

Envy's Story

Untitled, another Sin story. This takes place somewhere completely different from the game, I thought it'd be interesting to try and write a short story based on an alien planet where you get next to no info on them.


Envy's Story

His eyes are the maroon of a sun cresting over the horizon, and they have a warmth and depth that defies conventional description. She leans in close, feeling his heartbeat and listening to her own; they are beating as one, and as they move deftly around the dancefloor she finds herself practically on her own plane; she closes her eyes and pretends that they are alone, that it is only her and him and the slow, deep music. She didn't think it could be like this.

She is not, by any means, used to this sort of thing. Her kind are not meant for love, and while her sister is by far less suited to the prospect it is she that laments it the most. Until this point, she did not think it possible. She feels his talons in hers, rubs the crested feathers of her headdress against his beak, and wonders if this is what it feels like for them, too. She has only ever seen the world through the eyes of others, taking in their fears and hopes and dreams. She is the Other. Always fated to be someone else.

The vaulted ballroom in which the two dance overlooks the seemingly endless rust-colored desert. The matte blue metal from which the tower is constructed reflects the two ambient orbs of light in the massive circular roof, casting the entire room in a gentle glow, illuminating only what needs to be seen. Over a hundred of the Inui flutter in and out of the room, going about their business. Some feast on roasted sandskimmers, some sip warm, heady wines, others saunter to the dance floor with those they love, or those they might. A thick, slow bass reverberates throughout the spherical room, a quiet accentuation to the reverie.

Near the stage, two Inui sit together, sharing the same cup of a green liquid. They have just been wed, successfully merging two of the most influential and powerful families in the entire western sands. It has been a long, complicated courtship. The two are hardly in love, though they share no ill feelings. Their union is looked at with unmixed pleasure, heading off the mounting tensions between their families. This is their event; the whole of the nobility is here to celebrate. But few eyes rest upon them, as the gravity of the room seems to shift into its center, where two winged lovers dance.

They move slowly, deliberately, in a way that betrays little skill. It is the raw passion between them, however, the unmitigated desire and love, that makes their dance so powerful. He is Nnina, a prince of the warrior-clan Jokko. He is notorious for being chaste; among these people, it is nearly unheard of for a young warrior to be anything less than promiscuous. He has, however, brushed off all those who wished for his company, and there were many, all for the love of her. She is Loppi, youngest daughter of a merchant family that, while noble, is not the type one would expect one of the warrior families to ever associate with, for more than a night or two. But from the moment he saw her, he knew there was no other woman for him.

Loppi, for her part, loved him. She denied him at first, believing he would tire of her once a fortnight had passed and she would bear his eggs alone, to the knowing smirks of all the other ladies of the court. He had been relentless in his courtship, however, undertaking several self-imposed quests to prove his love to her. At last, she had accepted his bid for her affections.

This woman is not her. She shares her body, her memories, but Loppi's face is nailed to a room deep within the recesses of the Fourth House, where last vestiges of blood still manage to drip, from time to time, out of eye sockets from which the tears have long dried. She came to Loppi's chambers late in the night, and what transpired there none were privy to; her silent screams fell to one set of ears, from which no sympathy was returned. The process was slow, brutal, for without raw emotion the ritual loses all meaning. The Inui who did this to her was not one she had ever seen, but in time it did not matter, as the murderer placed the freshly cut skin onto her own, absorbing every moment of Loppi's life, every thought, every dream. And her love for Nnina. A love that the culprit herself shared, but one she could never indulge. Not as herself. But as Loppi, she had a soulmate.

She purrs, ever so slightly, as Nnina whispers to her of his love, of the lengths to which he would go to prove himself even now. She is wrapped in ecstasy. She has existed nearly since the dawn of time, her lot in life one of murder, judgment, and the ceaseless grip of the vice she was born to at once exploit and punish. She is Envy, and she knows that this world will one day have to end, and that it will be by her hand, that she will help to build this civilization to its peak before tearing it to shreds, but in this moment, for the first time since her inception, she is happy, content.

“Oh dear sister, don't be ridiculous. You can't be happy. You can't be satisfied. It is not in your nature.”

The voice is not Nnina's. She knows it, however, and her eyes go wide as she pushes him back. The edges of his beak tilt up, a wicked smile. His appearance begins to change, the familiar green feathers turning to a pure, unadulterated gold. He is called Pride.

“You...you miserable, despicable little-”

“Come now, sister. You didn't really think it would last, did you? This pathetic shade of a superficial love some low-level merchant's daughter felt for a man she could never deserve...that you even pretended to it is pathetic enough, but to let it affect you so deeply is truly pathetic.”

She shakes with rage, her talons clenched so tightly she draws blood from them.

“What did you do with him?”

“Nothing so horrible. It turned out he was truly in love with that little Inui girl, much more than himself. Naturally I found this entirely reprehensible, but I gave him the honor of slaying him in an official duel.”

“...Why? Why him?”

“I don't even know what that question means. This is what we do, sister. We corrupt. We build. We destroy. It has been our lot since the beginning, and it's going to remain that way until the end. Until we are finally finished. No mortal, not a solitary one of them, is worth anything more than a useless plaything to us. I am simply saving you from becoming any more invested in this baseless fantasy.”

Envy cannot speak. For so long she has suffered, without a moment of reprisal. And here, at the smallest glimpse of anything beyond the tortured existence she has been forced into, she is broken.

She extends her consciousness out into the desert, searching for something. When she finds it, she simply nods, not answering her brother. Her body begins to contort sickly, expanding and elongating, taking on a muted yellow that sends all the Inui fleeing. Their one natural predator, the reason they have built their vaulted blue towers, the Aarathi, the sand worm. More begin to sprout from the ground, and the tears gathering at Envy's eyes fall as spiked feelers take the place of her face and beak. She stands at full height, a massive creature whose every inch is designed to make her a more efficient killer. Five more now stand around her, extensions of her will.

The massacre is unmitigated. The night becomes legendary, though it is not remembered long. The Inui had at least another half-century left to them, but Envy goes on a rampage that leaves nothing of their civilization. For all their advancement, the Inui cannot defeat their enemy from within, especially not with Envy's fury behind it. In days, they are gone.

And Pride simply watches, and smiles.

And in the Garden, Snake Was Charming

This is a story I wrote based on a character who is the physical embodiment of Lust for the Graal server I've shown some graphics for here.

It's the spiritual sequel to a short story I wrote for a class last year, and was an attempt to make an erotic story that wasn't erotic. If that makes any sense.

If you've delicate sensibilities, this story may offend. I'd specify how but it'd ruin it.


And in the Garden, Snake Was Charming

In the garden, the sweet smell of exotic fauna hangs in the air. No breeze blows here; it is always humid, warm, almost like a film hanging on the world. I wipe the sweat from my brow, and breathe in the thick air. I have been standing in this spot for twelve days now, observing a single blossom on a tree, purple with specks of blue. My Lady has put me here to observe it, and to make sure its beauty does not wane. I focus my eyes on it, desperately attempting not to blink, that I may miss a moment of the pristine beauty that my Lady wishes to document. Twelve days have I stood here, and twelve more I would gladly give without a second thought. For my Lady Lust is a beautiful and just mistress, and if she is to reward me with even a second of her presence, it will have been worth it and more.

I may have had a family once. I no longer remember. None of that matters. One day I caught her scent, and it led me to her garden. I have seen her but once, when I first arrived, and that moment plays over and over in my head. The leaves parted slowly, and through the thick mists that move through the garden like a serpent, slow and thick, I saw her, and my heart filled until it overflowed, and from that moment I knew only her, only my Lady, and nothing and no one else could ever matter more.

She is perfection. Wild, crimson locks frame a face whose form could not be sculpted by the very gods themselves, were they to try a thousand thousand times. There is no word that yet exists for the color of her eyes; cities have risen and fallen in the time it would take to properly describe the hue, to say nothing of the depth. Her body, framed in blood-red silk, is like the desert, gentle rolling dunes forming perfect curves, with ice-pale skin that betrays none of the heat she radiates. Her scent is of rose wine, late nights, and of sex, uninhibited and primal; once you have tasted of it, you are hers. And of course, her lips, fresh-plucked cherries draped in morning dew, lips that have sent countless men to their deaths. Lips which release a voice for which I would crawl to the ends of the Earth to hear but one word. Her word is golden. Her word is law. Her word is my beginning and end, and I will do anything to hear it.

When I finally hear it, a dull echo in the back of my head, my eyes begin to shiver as tears fall down them. Already my heart has begun to beat faster, my breath shallow. I feel a stirring below my stomach, and I know it is time. Time to see my Lady. To taste of her fruit, and to fulfill a desire so strong I abandoned everything I knew for the hope of obtaining it.

My Mistress's sanctuary is bathed in flowers, myriad colors adorning the vines and the trees. Before I enter I catch her scent, that marvelous, transcendent, life-changing scent. She is without adornment, her naked form stretched out on a bed of grass. It is like seeing the sun for the first time, as if Saurvold were descending from the heavens and casting his divine light over me. But she is no god. No, she is much more than that. Her eyes pierce my soul, and with but one glance I know that I am to lay with her.

A single finger grazes my chest as I kneel before her. Her nail grazes my skin, and as the tip of her finger makes contact with my bare skin my vision blurs and my head swims. It is as I imagined; no, it is more than that. My Lady wastes no time, grabbing my head and pulling me to her. She kisses me so deeply, so powerfully, that I cannot help but imagine time stopping, that nothing in this realm can exist to surpass this moment, and perhaps that is what happens. Men were not meant to hold congress with my Lady Lust; her every touch is ecstasy, her every movement a miracle, and as I am consumed in her glory and her warmth, a distant voice in my mind weeps, for no joy could ever equal this, no worldly experience could ever stir my heart, that I have known Lust's sex.

My Lady is, as one could only expect, a master of lovemaking. With the ease of one who has only the slightest interest in her work she moves, building up the pressure until I believe I will surely explode, only to send it back to the beginning once more, controlling me to suit her needs. I am her willing servant, and as we lay together I see worlds, the myriad galaxies of the universe laid bare before my eyes, our intercourse unlike anything mortal man has known. Even as the smell of burning skin rises to my nostrils I am bathed in a pleasure so all-consuming I feel almost separated from my body.

As I feel the burning on my chest I begin to look down, but her hand grabs my jaw and thrusts it upwards, so that I can only glare at the canopy through teary eyes as she sears her crest into my chest. The scent of her poison mixed with my rotting flesh threatens to end my consciousness, but still she continues our act, flooding my body with please as she places her entire hand on my chest, excreting a poison that I can feel tearing into my skin, and tears flood from my eyes as waves of pain and pleasure wash over me, coming over and over until I can no longer tell the difference.

She keeps me awake as she moves her hand downwards, and now I can feel my insides boiling, my skin melting. She stops just short of the area where our bodies join before reaching tenderly into the left side of my torso, tearing and burning through muscle and sinew and bone. She wraps her fingers around my heart, and even now she continues our congress, keeps me alive and awake and aware, and I feel every move she makes as she begins to rip my heart from her chest, slowly, methodically. It is ecstasy beyond measure, torture beyond reckoning. As my eyes close I still think only of her, my perfect Mistress, and I hope I have been good for her.

As the sun begins to set, dull pink light filtering through the trees, Lust licks the blood from her fingers, covered in bits of the organ she has just consumed. She gazes at her own body, perfect but for the bits of her former servant that still lie on her. She gets up gingerly, sauntering to a dark, clear, pool of water, the only part of her garden that offers any solace from the oppressive, tropical heat. As she bathes the blood, skin, and bone from her body, she revels in her own beauty, spending hours making herself clean. She smiles to herself, and takes stock of the men in her garden, examining them and judging them and ordering them.

Ah yes. He will do nicely.

In Which I Abandon All Pretenses

So my main concern about blogging is becoming some sort of professional and having an unprofessional blog, or the even more paranoid and ridiculous worry that something here will somehow come back to haunt me or be seen by people I wouldn't want seeing it.

NUTS TO THAT. NUTS, I SAY.

I ain't no professional and anyone who ain't know I'm a nerd ain't know me so I ain't gonna pretend this is anythin' more than the insane rantings of a crazy person.

Ain't.

Here's Sterile. It's a manga done in shounen style, so if you don't like things like Naruto, Bleach or Dragonball you probably won't like this.

STERILE!!!

Also here is a drawing I did during the snow day yesterday that I am very proud of:


















This is based on a team that I adventured with a while back in Graal. We called our team Team The Gilmore Girls because we all had characters with long hair and delicate sensibilities (our leader actually -was- a girl though XD).

I originally was doing a group pic with all our armor and weapons, but I'm not good at drawing fantasy stuff and I was frustrated with it, but at one point I had the idea to do a modern group pic like this (kind of like you find on manga title pages a lot) and yesterday I randomly drew it.

Lots of little things bug me but in general I'm really proud of this, considering it was all done in one sitting.

Also, I didn't notice till I was almost done but except for the last guy on the right I racially segregated the picture. I swear I have nothing against elves, they can stand on whatever side they want.

As long as its to the right.


So, there's some stuff.

EDIT: Okay this is the most heartwarming game I've played in ages, this made me believe in love again: http://www.newgrounds.com/portal/view/481559

Runners, Chapter 4

[04.Damned.If.You.Do]

Eve was still holding onto her small silver gun very tightly. It made Colin nervous, but what really disturbed him was that he didn't see any bullet holes in the first man she'd killed. The gun, then, was a last resort; Colin shuddered at the thought of what a hundred-pound prostitute could do to frighten three gun-toting men twice her size. Eve saw his look of wonder, and smiled weakly.
“You know how many people try to rough you up when you're in my line of work? At least half, usually more. A girl has to know how to defend herself. They make you learn, so they're not losing out on their investment. Me, I pull in good money, so they're not just gonna let some asshole cut me up, you know?”
“Or do something crazy like try to leave the City,” Colin replied, eyes still fixed on her pistol.
“Well, yeah. Its not something they'd approve of. Of course, they don't know about that; all they know is I'm not working for them anymore and they're not gonna let go.”
“So they try to kill you?”
“They're not shooting to kill. They know I'm too smart to get shot so easily. Of course, if they do end up offing me, at least I went out on their terms. Its all a power game, the hooker business. And I happen to be the best they've got.”

Colin massaged his temples.
“Okay, so you actually want to leave? I don't get it.”
“Of course not. Its not the type of thing that would occur to more than one person in a generation. We've spent so long in this city its not worth thinking that there might be anything else out there. I just happen to be that .01% that actually thinks about that sort of shit.”
He cocked his head. It was so mind-bendingly revolutionary a concept he couldn't even wrap his head around it. The city was the only thing in the world; it was commonly known that the outside was gone, but it was as much a subconscious knowledge as anything. It was the unmentioned backdrop to the setting of their lives, and while he could conceivably understand thinking about what there used to be outside, it was unthinkable under any circumstance that anyone would think about leaving. After all, there was nothing out there.

“Eve, there's nothing out there. Where exactly do you plan to go?”
“Dunno. Its not that kind of thought-out plan. One day it just hit me; I was gonna get out. Don't know where I'm goin', don't know how I'm gettin' there, but its happening. Now I have to run. You really don't have to follow me this time, I'll be oka-”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she dove to the right as shots rang out, bullets ricocheting off of the metal siding of the building she'd been leaning against. Colin yelled and fell back as Eve started firing. Four bullets exploded from the barrel of her slim silver pistol, past Colin and into another alley. Colin, sitting now, backed up frantically and covered his head. A whole lot of good he was. Eve ran ahead and took cover on the opposite wall, cool and calm. Just another third Sector gunfight.

“Colin!” Eve yelled, rounding the corner and firing a few more rounds before taking cover once more, “there's only one but he's going to bring friends! You have to get out of here!”
Colin, however, was frozen with fear. He was still reeling from the revelation of Eve's plan, and he was seeing firsthand just how difficult it was going to be. How could she do it? How could she defy the basest facet of their existence and risk her life to wander into nothingness? He couldn't understand it. He was snapped out of his stupor by Eve's voice crying out in pain. He looked up to see her leg bleeding, and her stumbling back.

A man rounded the corner, gun pointed at Eve, back to Colin. He had an earpiece, and he spoke into it:
“I found her, boys. Got her in the leg but we can graft over it. Now get over here before she gets going!”
Colin shook uncontrollably. If he got up to run, he would probably get shot. If he stayed, his fate was no better. This was really it. He'd kept pushing this thing, kept following this girl, and now he was going to die.

Its a strange thing, what happens when one's faced with one's own mortality. Colin's life was never one of great security; Sector Three wasn't renowned for its residents' quality of life. But he lived in a nice neighborhood, he delivered contraband medicine to the clinics, he did what he could to stay out of trouble. Crime was common, disease was everywhere, but thus far he'd managed to live a life much less colorful than the average person who lived there. And now here he was, an inevitable death before him. He could take his chances and run, sure, but statistically it was a futile plan. So it was that in the final moments of his life Colin was able to look at his situation with a surprising amount of detachment and clarity. His predicament was literally that of being about to die, but he realized it represented his life on a larger level as well. The place he living in, he was going to die this kind of death eventually. The only thing he could run to was the fourth Sector, which would be an even surer death in an even more dilapidated part of the city. It wasn't until he met Eve that another option presented itself.

So he dove. He dove forward and tackled the gunman, who shot one final round that hit inches from Eve's head. She jerked to the side, but seeing the man down pointed her gun and shot one last time. Colin's face was to the ground, but the sound was enough to make his stomach turn. But there wasn't time for that; Colin had made his decision. He bolted up and ran to Eve, hoisting her up and beginning to run, giving her seconds to adjust and keep pace with him. She winced, and Colin was a little short to be supporting her, but they managed to go relatively fast. Ducking into several more alleys at random, they finally stopped.

Colin let Eve down against the wall, and reached into his bag. He didn't have much left from his supply run, but he disinfected the wound and began to wrap it. The wound didn't look too bad, but it was bleeding pretty heavily and there were still gun-toting men after them.
“Damn it kid, no matter how many times I tell you to run away you keep going in the wrong direction,” Eve muttered as she tried to concentrate on getting past the pain.
“Yeah, well chances were I was gonna die anyway. And I've never seen this many people go after a rogue prostitute before, I guess I can't let it go.”
He was telling the truth. But he knew there was more to it than that. The thing inside of him kept forcing him into action, wouldn't let him leave Eve's side when he knew she was in trouble. Honestly, he couldn't tell whether or not his actions were based on morals or instinct anymore. Either way, it didn't matter now.
“Man, of all the hits to take. Not that I thought I'd just walk out, but now I'm injured and they're mad. Its gonna be a hell of a trip. Thanks, Colin. I really do appreciate it, but I have to get going. You get closer and closer to being shot each time they find me so get out of here, I can't be responsible for you.”
“Who's the one with one good leg here? Looks like I'm gonna have to be responsible for you from now on,” Colin said, smiling, as he helped Eve up.
“No. No way, you're not-”
“Its too late. I made my choice. I'm coming with you. We're gonna get out of this city together.”

Runners, Chapter 3

[03.The.City.]

The city was large. Specifically how large wasn't something anyone particularly cared about, so if the information existed there was most likely no one who actually knew.

This was because it was the last city on Earth. And if there wasn't anywhere else then just how little was left wasn't something anyone was particularly interested in.

The city was surrounded by a wall that kept it safe from the elements and, one would hope, the apocalypse. There were Generators, large obelisks spaced throughout the city that kept the air clean and emitted a thick white cloud that engulfed the city, controlling the temperature and generating light as needed. The cloud was, perhaps, the only thing that all Sectors shared in common.

The Sectors themselves were established to keep the turbulence of a city surrounded by nothing stable. It allowed for the people with wealth to maintain a high quality of living without being reminded about anything that wasn't particularly pleasant; those in the third and fourth Sectors had to worry about surviving, and didn't have time to question a system whose purpose was essentially to keep them out of the hair of the parts of society that mattered. Most people lived and died in the city without ever seeing much more than the area they were born in.

Sector 1 was the best possible place for a human being to live, a fact the residents of the Sector took quite seriously. Only the elitest of the elite lived there; every facet of their lives was bathed in extravagance. The latest technologies assured any resident of the first Sector did little that was needless or uncomfortable. The streets were immaculate, the buildings sterile. Scientific advances allowed for genetic specification and cosmetic modification that gave the young and wealthy an unprecedented level of aesthetic expression and health. The Sector was essentially the aristocracy in the city, with a vast majority of the families that inhabited it having been permanent residents. While one could hope to gain money and settle into Sector 2, Sector 1 was unattainable. It was heaven.

Sector 2 was not, all things considered, a half-bad place to live. Comfortable without being posh, enjoyable without the pinnacle of technology to support it, it was as good a place as anyone in the city could normally hope to live. People in the second Sector most often worked for people in the first; the wall that divided the two was built around factories and businesses that linked the two. Although it was always made quite clear which side the people of Sector 2 were on, in general they tended to be content. Sector 2 was security: face-scans, DNA recognition, and GPS navigators made sure that the people were safe. Crime existed but was not all that common. The farther from the wall leading to Sector 1, of course, the more likely bad things got. The City Police operated almost exclusively in this Sector, and their power knew essentially no bounds.

The third Sector was where the lower classes lived. It was dirty and significantly less modern than the other Sectors, but most of its people would never know how much. Its people viewed the people that lived in the first two Sectors with a mix of awe and disdain, but the Government would barely acknowledge its existence at all besides keeping peace in extreme situations. It essentially ran itself, which left the City to look after the parts of itself that were important.

The thing that made the third Sector livable was the knowledge of what Sector 4 was like. Primitive and volatile, it was essentially a warzone for gangs. It was a death sentence for anyone who had reached rock bottom; the buildings were in such horrid condition that it was barely different than living on the street, and it was at times more safe anyway. The fourth Sector was a topic that was never discussed by anyone with any power in the City, and most of the residents of the first two Sectors didn't even know it existed.

Thus the Last City on Earth was a sectioned half-globe in the blackness in which everything had its place, and in which there was little that stirred. As for that End itself, the thing that left the city as the last on the planet, it was a subject that was completely and utterly taboo. It wasn't so much that people avoided it; rather, it had been collectively decided long ago that it should be ignored and forgotten, and thus not only did no one know what had happened, it never even occurred to anyone to ask. Years of living in the wake of the End had created an atmosphere in which the people were too afraid to operate outside the parameters they were given. It wasn't long before this became a completely unconscious state of being. It was a psychological phenomenon that explained why Eve was so crazy.

No one thought about anything outside of the city. No one even considered the possibility that there was anything aside from the city, or that there ever had been.

Eve's desire to leave was, then, a tiny, barely noticeable crack in an otherwise perfect glass enclosure that kept the people of the city free of the burden of being the only humans left on Earth. Eve's idea, her desire by itself was enough to shatter the carefully crafted order of the City, but to actually act on it threatened all of reality within the wall that separated it from the nothingness outside.

You couldn't leave. There was nowhere to go. But Eve was going to do it. And, for reasons he could never hope to explain, Colin was going to do it too.

Runners, Chapter 2

[02.Room.And.Board]

He sat there, for a while, looking at her, which in the back of his mind he knew to be creepy, but he couldn't help himself; covered in blood, sticky and dirty and bruised, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and when he looked at her everything around him got blurry, as if her presence made everything else less important. He stared at her for a long time before her eyes lazily opened.
"What time is it?" she asked, breaking him out of his trance.
"A...are you okay?" he stammered, shifting uneasily in the chair.
"Time."
"Its almost ten," he said, glancing at his computer, still at his hip.
"Ten? Hell...I was out for a while."
She began to get up, and he went to hold her down.
"What are you doing? Two hours ago you couldn't move, you can't get up!"
"Unless," she said, wincing as she tried to make a throbbing head pain pass, "you want me to pee in my bed, you'll let me go to the bathroom. You gave me some rest, I can make it."
"Some rest?" He protested. "You almost died, some rest isn't enough."
"I'm a tough girl, honey. I need to wash off too. This stuff smells horrible already."

He watched as she staggered into the bathroom. To be fair, he hadn't seen that many injuries on her. He couldn't help feeling like she just let him carry her because she didn't feel like walking back. Now he was sitting in her apartment while she washed herself, and it was getting late to be walking outside. And who the hell was she, anyway? Then again, who the hell was he, to her? There was a sort of mutual trust going on that Colin wasn't entirely comfortable with.

She emerged from the bathroom some time later wearing a towel that struggled madly to hide any significant portion of her body. Her skin was now devoid of red, so he could see the scars and bruises better. This observation was followed by the realization that he was intently staring at her barely-covered body, and his face went red as he looked away. Who comes out of the shower glistening and wet with a tiny towel in front of a kid anyway? He nervously stumbled out of the room, hand over his eyes. She laughed.

"Come on, honey," she said from the bedroom, "its just a body. No need to get worked up."
Colin struggled to find anything to say, but just ended up making some nonspecific sounds. Terrific, now he looked like a pervert and an idiot. He helped himself to a can of soda while she changed. She came out of the bedroom wearing a tank top and underwear. It wasn't a huge step up from the towel, and did nothing to dissolve Colin's immense discomfort. She got herself a drink and sat across from him at her tiny table.
"So, what is my brave savior's name?" she asked, cocking her head.

"My name is Colin."
"Colin, huh? And do you normally walk around picking up bloody girls in alleys?"
He struggled to answer, but couldn't think of anything to say. He really didn't have a good reason to have taken her here. He looked away, embarrassed.
"Well, my name is Eve. Thanks for helping me out."
"You..." he said, then hesitated, vocalizing an observation as he was making it, "you don't seem too hurt."
"What can I say," she chuckled, "soft glass is a nice thing to fall on."
"It's just... you had a lot of blood on you.
She only smiled, and stood up, going into a cupboard and getting out a gray pot. She filled it with water and put it on the black heating panel on her counter.

"It's late. You can stay here tonight if you want, but I should warn you I'm getting up a little early tomorrow."
Colin agreed, and accepted a cup of tea that was handed to him. He took one sip and almost gagged; it was made with actual tea. Real tea leaves were not something a resident of the 3rd Sector could ever hope to afford. The natural taste was too much for a mouth unaccustomed to it. Eve let him lie on what could charitably have been called a couch. It was rock-hard, and v-shaped from wear, so that it took him over an hour to find a position that didn't cause (much) pain. He had the intention of going back and trying to figure out the day, but a deep sleep overtook him.

About four hours later, he was dragged out of his sleep, someone shaking him lightly by the shoulder. It was Eve, fully dressed (not that this meant much).
"Sorry kid, but I gotta get goin'."
He tilted his head, and looking out the window saw that it was still dark. He groggily asked what time it was.
"Almost four. We really should be going."
"Why, what's going on?" he asked, slowly sitting up. He sensed the slightest uneasiness in her voice.
She smiled at him, but he could see the insincerity of it.
"Things are about to get a little messy. We need to go."
He saw urgency in her eyes, and that was enough. He got his shoes on as quick as he could, and he kept asking what was wrong, but she wouldn't say anything.

Then the first volley of bullets came through the wall. They sailed upwards into the ceiling, ricocheting off and clinking as they landed on the ground. Colin instinctively fell to the ground and covered his head, his entire body shivering with terror. Eve was calling to him to move, but her words didn't reach him; he was in his own world of fear. Crawling over, she grabbed his collar and heaved him out into the hallway as the bullets stopped coming.

"What the hell is going on?!" Colin voice faltered as he yelled, his ears still ringing.
"We're being shot at, I'm afraid. Get up, and go to the top floor," Eve responded, getting up and running down the hallway towards the stairs. When they had reached them, she stopped and looked at Colin, smiling weakly.
"Thanks, Colin. I'm sorry you had to get shot at. Just go up and wait about thirty minutes, it should be clear then."
"What? Where are you going?" he questioned. He was leaning against the wall; his legs were still trembling.
"I'm running, honey. They're after me, and I'm not in the mood to be caught."
"But they've got guns," he protested, "how are you going to survive?!"
"I'm very quick," she said with a smirk, and began to bound down the stairs. Colin stood there for a minute, watching her skip down. She was just going to go out there and face whoever was shooting at her? She was so...confident. Her unease, it had only been for Colin's wellbeing. That thing began to well up inside him again, but he knew it was suicide to go after her. What was he going to do?

Eve checked the camera on the inside of the door before going out. Its range was small, but she would probably be alright. As soon as it slid open wide enough for her body to get through, she was out and running down an alley. She fumbled through her purse, drawing out a small gun. A girl had needs, after all.

After she'd run for a while she put her back against a wall, and caught her breath. If they'd seen her exit the building they'd have found her by now. She was safe, for the moment. She looked around, running scenarios in her head, trying to decide on the best place to lay low. She was about to go when she heard someone in the alley, about to round the corner. She turned sharply, thrusting her gun forward. Colin's face went pail as the barrel made contact with his forehead.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"
"I...I can't let you run alone!"

After she'd run for a while she put her back against a wall, and caught her breath. If they'd seen her exit the building they'd have found her by now. She was safe, for the moment. She looked around, running scenarios in her head, trying to decide on the best place to lay low. She was about to go when she heard someone in the alley, about to round the corner. She turned sharply, thrusting her gun forward. Colin's face went pail as the barrel made contact with his forehead.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"
"I...I can't let you run off alone!"
"And how, exactly, does your make getting shot at easier?"
Colin went to speak, but realized he had nothing to say and closed it again. Eve sighed and pulled him out of the alley and made sure no one else was there, then went off running as he trailed behind. Eve's head kept darting around as they ran; she was looking for something. It was apparent she had at least some idea of where they were going, and this gave Colin some meager comfort. He was running out of breath when she finally stopped in front of a doorway.

Eve pressed a fingerprint scanner next to a name to the side of the door, and after a minute a voice escaped through a speaker.
"Eve? What in the hell are you doing waking me up?"
"You think I'd be doing it if I didn't need to? Let us in, Charlie."
"Us?"

Colin found himself in an apartment not much nicer than Eve's. Charlie was in her underwear, which she happened to fill quite nicely. Colin looked at the floor while the two spoke in another room. He was feeling incredibly awkward around all these scantily-clad women, as well as a vague sense of guilt for not enjoying it more. Under different circumstances it may not have been so disturbing. Who were these people, anyway? No one dressed like that.

Charlie walked out of the room alone and grabbed a can from the refrigerator, which she began to drink while she looked Colin over. He felt her eyes on him and looked towards her but found it hard not to stare. She smiled at him.
"Aw, that's cute, he feels bad looking at another woman. Although, you're a little young to be goin' out with girls Eve's age."
"What, I'm not-" Colin began to protest, but he was interrupted.
"Of course, that's every young guy's dream isn't it? Chill out kid, I'm just messing with you. Really though, what are you doing following Eve around?"
Colin explained everything, and Charlie listened, not speaking, just drinking. At the end, she sighed.
"Yeah, Eve has that effect on people. Lord knows how many men have fallen hopelessly for her. It'll destroy you if you're not careful."

"Its not like she means to do it...people just get pulled into her world. We've all been there. Anyone with half a brain that knows her would stay out of her way, and yet here I am harboring you two. I can't believe she's involved you in this, though. I mean, you're just a kid."
Colin disliked her reasoning. No young man wants to be told they're young, and it is the ultimate insult to use their age as justification for anything.

Eve eventually emerged, yawning. Colin remembered that it wasn't even morning yet, and fatigue washed over him. Charlie smiled at him sympathetically as Eve put a hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry Colin, but we don't have time to rest. We have to go before we get Charlie in trouble."
"So where are we going?" he asked, trying not to seem exhausted.
He didn't get an answer. Eve started walking out the door, but Charlie got in her way.
"Evee, don't do this. He's a kid. You can't."
Eve and Charlie looked into each other's eyes. The tension was almost tangible, and it made Colin squirm.
"I'm doing this. If he wants to come along its his own decision-"
"Then tell him. Tell him what you're doing. Why they're after you."
Eve shifted her gaze away from Charlie. Charlie sighed, and looked past Eve, at Colin.
"Hey, kid. The guys after Eve are the guys we work for. And they're going to be here soon. You better leave. Just do me a favor, and leave her alone. Nothing good is going to come of this, and you don't deserve to die for her."

Eve and Colin were walking down an alley. Neither of them had spoken since leaving Charlie's apartment. A few minutes after they left, some men went into the building. The two of them watched from across the street. Once the door had slid shut she began to walk briskly. Colin followed, Charlie's voice echoing in his head. She made him think about what he was doing, in a way he hadn't been able to himself. At one point he thought he heard gunfire. It wasn't an uncommon sound in the city, for sure, but it made his stomach turn.

It had been twenty minutes when he finally spoke.
"Did they kill her?"
"Hopefully not. Charlie's a good worker, and a good talker."
"Did..." Colin struggled, not wanting to hear an answer, "did you use her as bait?"
Eve paused before she responded. "Charlie let us up. She knew what she was doing, and she knows how to stay alive."
"You didn't answer my question."
"To be honest, Colin, its not a question you'd understand the answer to."

Colin stopped dead in his tracks. Enough was enough.
"Is it true, what she said?"
"You tell me. Why are you following me? You don't owe me. If anything, I owe you. You have no idea who I am, who I'm running from, where I'm running to- you've got a home, and you could be safe and sleeping but you chose to come with me. I didn't ask you to, I didn't make you. The chances of you living through the night are incredibly slim right now, so you should just go back to where you came from and leave me alone!"
Colin's hands were balled into fists. He was angry, fuming, with himself. He searched desperately for something to say, something scathing and damaging to show her up, but he could manage nothing but turning around and running away from her.
"By the way, kid. I'm a hooker. If that makes you feel any better. Have a nice life."
He had run out of earshot, and didn't hear her apologize.

Colin paused to catch his breath, leaning against a dirty wall. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was, and given the dubious moral nature of the people in this part of the Sector coupled with the fact that it wasn't going to be light for another couple of hours, he was probably not in the best of situations. It wasn't like he could go asking for directions, either.

It was the latest in a short but significant list of things he'd done lately. There were things that someone living in the third Sector simply did not do. Among them were:
1.)Going near anyone you didn't know.
2.)Gong near anyone injured.
3.)Following strangers home.
4.)Getting lost.
all of which he'd managed to do in the past 10 hours. Since he'd met Eve, he hadn't done one thing that made an ounce of sense. He rested his head on the wall, and barely noticed that someone else was there.

“That's what Eve does to guys,” Charlie sighed. “It never ends well. I just saved you the trouble.”
“So you're a...”
“I imagine you just found out,” she replied, leaning against the wall next to Colin. “That little fact tends to kill relationships.”
Colin blushed. Figuring that she was just trying to get a rise out of him again, he changed the subject. “I thought they'd killed you. I...”
“You didn't want to be next. Don't worry about it, kid. Self-preservation is a necessity. The boss came by my place. I told him she would have expected him to come to me first, so they moved on. I doubt he believed me, he probably just didn't want to lose two girls in one night.”
“You risked your life for her?” Colin could tell she wasn't telling the whole truth. He shifted his gaze over to her. Charlie was looking up.
“Its like I said. Eve has that effect on people. Even if you don't want to get in her pants, you just feel like you need to help the girl. Its why she's so valuable to them. They'll do anything to get her back.”

Colin ran, hoping that he wasn't going to come to a dead end as he turned a corner. Following the echoes of gunshots isn't by any means easy; all he could do was run like hell and hope he ended up where he needed to be.

“Eve is special,” Charlie had told him. “I don't know how. But knowing the girl like I do, and seeing what they're willing to do to keep her, she's got something none of the rest of us have.”
“Man, to think she's risking her life just to quit her job...”
Charlie's eyes widened, and she tilted her head at him.
“You mean, you really don't know?”

He heard a scream. It could have been anyone. For all he knew, he was running into an average Sector 3 gunfight and he was going to be full of holes any minute �" No. He knew Eve was there. He could feel that...that thing welling up inside him again. He rounded a corner, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Eve was hunched over a body. There was blood on the ground, and it was not hers. She held a small, silver gun in her right hand. He left was clutching the hair of the man under her. In front of her were three men with considerably larger guns. Given that they had her so drastically out-gunned, Colin was surprised to see that the men seemed to be in shock.

Colin felt something pushing him, and for a second time seemed to slow down and he thought he saw Eve's eyes looking at him and he found himself running. He tackled the man closest to him, toppling two of them, their heads crashing onto the concrete. Eve pulled the trigger of her gun, and a shot rang out, echoing through the alley. It almost masked the gurgled yell of the man she'd shot, the third and final one. Colin looked up to see her standing above him, gun pointed down.
“Out of the way, Colin. We gotta end this.”
“You...you're gonna kill them?” Colin stammered.
“Them or us, kid. Quick, before they come to.”
“The other two...you killed them!”
Eve sighed, cursed, and then grabbed Colin by the coat and dragged him up.
“You better damn well hope they incurred massive head trauma. I'm probably going to die for this, you know that?”
They ran.

“She first told me about it a few years ago. I thought it was a joke, and even when I knew it wasn't I didn't think she would ever actually try,” Charlie said, as Colin stared at her.
“What is she trying to do, Charlie? What's this all about? What's worth dying for?”
“Its simple, really.”

Eve reloaded her gun and placed it back in her purse.
“What are you doing here, Colin?”
“Is it true?”

“Eve wants to leave.”

“I'm just a hooker who attracts as many bullets as I do men. You've done enough for me already.”
“No,” Colin said cooly. “Charlie told me what this is about. You're trying to leave the city. You...you know what's out there, right?”
“Everyone knows what's out there, Colin. There's nothing. There is no out there.”
There was a brief silence. Finally, he had decided.
“I'm going with you.”

Runners, Chapter 1

First of all, she was covered in blood. Her hair was sticking together in clumps, and her clothes were saturated. What he found so strange, though, was her lack of injuries. She was hurt, for sure, but the inevitable conclusion he came to was that the blood was not all hers. He couldn't tell you why he picked her up. He couldn't even tell you why he went near her.

But he did.

She was laying on a pile of broken glass. It must have been a newer window; the shards were all crumbles. If it had been an old window, she would definitely had died. Lucky. She wasn't moving, but her bare midriff was moving up and down, slowly. Her eyes were open, just a bit, and he could see her pupils, though they looked milky and dim.

This was just the kind of thing you saw in this part of the city. If you tried to help every bloody body laying on the ground you'd have no time for anything else, and you would have contracted all manner of disease. You just shook your head and kept walking, and hoped you weren't next.

But he was drawn to her. He couldn't walk away.

He shot looks around the alley before he went over, glancing also up at the now-broken window she had fallen out of. It was a hell of a fall; in all likelihood the soft glass fragments saved her life. Whoever had done this to her was nowhere in sight, at least for now. If he was going to save her (save her? He didn't even know her. What was he doing?) he had to act fast. He knelt down in front of her, and his breath went short. She was beautiful.

There's different types of beauty. There's beauty that inspires admiration, that inspires lust. There's also beauty that just simply inspires. The woman lying bloodied before him fell into this latter category: as he saw her up close, he suddenly felt something welling up inside him. He couldn't tell what it was, but he could feel it in his stomach, crawling up until--

A red hand shot up and grabbed at his shirt, weakly. Her eyes opened up a little more, and something that was barely a whisper escaped her lips.
"Left. Four blocks. 775. Third floor."
"W-what?" he asked, nervously.
"Go...go now..."
He swallowed, and gazed at her for another moment. He felt it climbing his chest until he could barely breathe, as if the something was constricting his lungs. His eyes widened as it exploded in his chest, and he found himself picking her up and running. What had she said? Left.

01 - Morning

Colin let out a big sigh as the ambient sounds of his alarm eased him out of his slumber earlier than he would have liked. He went over to his computer and shut off the alarm, switching it to television mode and bringing it into the bathroom. He left the news on while he covered himself in a thin layer of antibacterial gel.

As he cleaned it off with a wet rag, he listened to the droll of what they called "news." It was all human interest stories; a person training their parrot to hold complex conversations, a particularly lively night at the local retirement center, the kind of story they put on when they had nothing important to talk about. That, however, was all the news ever had.

Next came a cream, rubbed into his hair to disinfect and style. He listened to (and glanced at, occasionally) an infinitely interesting story about a neighborhood's yearly bloc party in Sector 2. They loved to show Sector 2. Colin went to the kitchen and ate a daily morning ration; it was a crunchy, nutrient-rich bar that cleaned teeth and gave the body the energy and building blocks it needed to get it through the day. He looked at the time. He was early, just barely.

Colin walked the streets of Sector 3. It wasn't the worst part of the city by any means, but it wasn't paradise either. The sidewalks were dirty, the buildings full of graffiti, but the chances of getting stabbed or shot were statistically much lower than in sector 4. There was, to some degree, a steady decline of quality of life going down from Sectors 1 to 3 but once one reached Sector 4 one was really in a bad place. Sector 3 was at least somewhat secure, and even if something went wrong you could have the City Police there in thirty, forty minutes on a good night.

He pressed a button on the computer at his side, and a voice told him he was three minutes from his destination. He patted the bag he was carrying, idly checking to make sure his package was still there. Eventually he reached the clinic, and was greeted by the aging nurse.
"You're a saint, Colin. We really need this medicine."
"Its the least I can do. I'm just happy to have a job."
She handed him a meager sum, apologizing several times that she couldn't give him more. He assured her it was fine, and left.

Colin made a living delivering goods that were, in general, above Sector 3. He had a friend in Sector 1 (not a common thing) that was generous (definitely not at all common) and slipped him, quietly, medical supplies and other necessities that the people of Sector 3 couldn't afford. He would have really liked to take the stuff to Sector 4 but he would be killed within minutes for it. The only reason no one did anything about it in Sector 3 was that without him there would be no more. It was easier just to let the stores and the Clinic get the supplies and get them that way. Colin wasn't the only one doing it; but he was the only one that wasn't stealing the things he delivered.

Living in Sector 3, what you found was a general indifference; life was crappy, but what could you do? The Sector was dirty, but you had face-scans, you had clean air, and if you were willing to put aside personal pride you could even get a job. Not the worst place to exist in the world. Bad things happened, of course, but people didn't pay it much notice. You couldn't afford to care about anyone you weren't immediately connected to, so when Colin heard the window smash he didn't pay it any attention. He cared more than the average person but even he couldn't save everyone, and by the time he was headed home it was getting dark anyway.

But then his eyes crossed her, and in that moment his destiny was no longer his own.

He ran out onto the sidewalk, holding the bloody girl, eliciting disinterested gazes from the few people on the street. Four blocks. Feeling her weight, he walked now. What was he doing? He catches a glance of someone lying in an alley and five minutes later he's carrying her somewhere? What was this thing that was inside him, making him do this - no, making him want to do this. He had to. He just didn't know why.

775. It wasn't what you would call a spectacularly modern building. He took her hand, gently, and put a bloody fingertip into the reader, and the door slid open. Third floor.

"Uh...where now?" he asked, his breath labored as he started to feel the strain of carrying her all this way. She pointed to a door, weakly. Another fingerprint scan, another sliding door, and they were inside an apartment. The walls were a faded red, and there was almost nothing there. Seeing a tiny bedroom, he went inside and let her down on a stiff, musty bed. The thin sheet soaked up the sticky blood still on her body.

He slumped down into an old plastic chair, laying his head back. The last thing he needed was to be getting involved in this sort of thing. Whatever she was involved in, it obviously wasn't something he should be anywhere near. Not to mention, this wasn't a great part of the Sector to be in - fingerprint scans? You barely saw them anymore, even in Sector 3. They had to be close to the border, and he could feel instinctively it was too close. He looked at the girl, lying on the bed, her breathing stabilized, and knew it was too late to just leave her now.

Runners

Runners (tentative title because I can't name things to save my life) is #5 on my list of book ideas, and the one people seem to be the most into. Personally I don't think of myself as much of a sci-fi writer, but the technology in the story is really second to the action, so hopefully that comes through.

I wrote four (short) chapters, starting in March 2007. Like most of the stuff on here, completely unedited. Reading it for the first time in at least a year, I have to say I don't hate it. It's a little clumsy and awkward because, as I said before, this is an unfamiliar genre. But some of what I'm getting at shines through.

Also, I drew the main characters back then, a drawing that I was surprised to find I still really like. Except for the girl of course, which is marvelous because she's the most important character. Ah well.

















As a final note, sorry for spamming your blog updates, my three followers.