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More Futurisitic Fun Than You Really Wanted, part I of V

Started by The Good Reverend Roger, March 29, 2011, 04:58:14 PM

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The Good Reverend Roger

Hmmm...

I have an idea.  More later.  You spags keep on going, of course.

" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Cainad (dec.)

Recovered portion of a mental health professional's personal log, name undisclosed.

"Counseling And Wellness Authority," how about that, eh? That's how things work here: we don't nurture you back to well-being, we just have the Authority to make you feel better.

At first it was a godsend to have jobs opening up by the fistload for anyone with experience in Psychology... shit, I think they even hired on a few former stage magicians. Those guys are all in management now, though.

Then I got assigned my first Class D case. Class Ds are the ones that have survived too many trips down the pits and proven too good at their jobs to be medically discharged, even though it takes a questionably legal amount of sedatives to keep them from eating the janitorial staff in their sleep.

This guy's alias (can't use real names at the Authority, some legal shit) was Tom. Just Tom, no tough-guy addons or nicknames to dress it up. Tom had changed squads fourteen times in twelve weeks before becoming the leader of the first experimental All Class D Squad. Word was he didn't play well with others, but he was always polite to me. At least, I'm pretty sure he was.

See, it's awful hard to talk about conversations one has with Class Ds, because there's some deep-rooted instinct in the well-adjusted mind that glazes over the things they say. What I do remember though, quite well, was getting the impression that I wasn't counseling Tom to help him cope with the shit he dealt with down there, no. My job was to help him deal with the surface world again.

Tom was more at home down there than he was up here. I think, deep down, he liked the Nessies more than he liked us.

Bless his fucked-up little soul, I ended up recommending Haldol to his supervisor when it finally became clear that he couldn't tell friend from foe anymore.

The next morning, his power armor was missing, and so was Tom. No one ever wants to talk to me about him.

The Good Reverend Roger

Message found in a cannister, somewhere under Southampton.  Most secret.  Eyes only.

Hey.  It's me.  I'm not ever coming back.  I thought about this a bunch, figured out there's no reason to come back.  All I need is down here...And what I need is nessies.  I kill them, but I love them.  They know what's real, they know that it's really all about claws and spears and knowing who's best, because who's best is the one still breathing.

So let me tell you about the future...The future is anything I have decided not to kill.  Leave me alone, and maybe you get to be part of that future, right?  Just let me do my job, let me dance with the nessies until I finally find one better than me.  Leave power packs at supply point 4, and maybe some bangers & mash in a can.  Other than that, fuck off.

- Tom

End of message.

(Coordinator's note:  That's the 3rd one this quarter.  Maybe we should lower the doses?)
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.


Luna

You can hear them through the pipes, you know, if you know what you're listening for.

Not the clash of swords and spears on the pipes, though you hear that too, along with the echoes of screams, the kind that make you clutch your ears and keen to yourself to keep yourself from hearing as they go on and on.  It's after...

After the screams stop, it's the worst.  After the silence falls...

You can hear the nessies.  They sing, you know.  They sing... after it's over, when they're...  Well, when it's over.

If you listen, hard, you can hear it.

I'm not supposed to know about them, of course.  Nobody is, if they're not working to stop them, but he told me.  He told me, when he started going down there.  You know, when the dreams would wake him up in the middle of the night.  He'd tell me about them, when he could, in between the sobs.

Then, one day, he went down to them, and he didn't come home.  

I can hear his voice, sometimes, when they're singing.  He's still down there, with them...

And, some day...  Some day, I'll go find him.
Death-dealing hormone freak of deliciousness
Pagan-Stomping Valkyrie of the Interbutts™
Rampaging Slayer of Shit-Fountain Habitues

"My father says that almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know, everybody you see, everybody you talk to. He says that only a few people are awake, and they live in a state of constant, total amazement."

Quote from: The Payne on November 16, 2011, 07:08:55 PM
If Luna was a furry, she'd sex humans and scream "BEASTIALITY!" at the top of her lungs at inopportune times.

Quote from: Nigel on March 24, 2011, 01:54:48 AM
I like the Luna one. She is a good one.

Quote
"Stop talking to yourself.  You don't like you any better than anyone else who knows you."

Adios

Office of Management

Eyes only - CC Medical Team


To: Office of Coordinators,

This is the second time a suggestion has been received by us to lower doses  to the Tunnel Teams. This will not be allowed for the most secret and obvious of reasons. We have plenty of recruits in training for replacements. The Wilders who choose to stay in the tunnels are providing a great service to us.

Please re-assign coordinators #11 and #13 to Tunnel duty right away, no training will be required. A mission is scheduled for 1135 hours. Make sure they are assigned point.

(destroy after reading)

LMNO

"Hello caller.  You're on the Stream!"

"Yeah, what's your take on all this ballyhoo down in the East side?  We all know those degenerates love their stories, but wasn't there a vidcap being passed around?"

"That's what they've been saying.  And hey, the fewer the better, I say!  Let those beasties work their way through the proles, and we'll all be better off.  You know what I think?  I think--" (muffled sound of a hand covering the microphone, and some incoherent shouting.) "I... think... that these scurrilous rumors have got to be stopped.  Ministry reports have indicated youth gangs have been responsible for hundreds of murders in the last two years, driven to madness by the Direct Inject TV marketed as 'DirInTiV'.  These sickening reprobates hide among normal, everyday people like you and me.  So stay alert, and as always, report any suspicious looking citizen to the nearest Judgment Office."

"But my uncle Micky saw something the other night--."

"Next caller!"

The Good Reverend Roger

Transcript of one Milton Jones, at a pub favoured by BNP stalwarts.  Mr Jones disappeared 3 days later while walking home from the same pub.

Those damn Paynites are a fucking pox, I tell you.  Always running around looking all serious, like they're all high and fucking mighty.  They're just another sect of loons, and we'd be better off without them.  Word is, this Payne git isn't even from around here...Some kind of Northern pouf or maybe even a Canadian.

Yeah, you hear rumors, silly shite like there's things in the sewers and they go kill them.  What I think, I think they're taking kids down those manky old pits and putting it to them.  Someone ought to run those bastards out of town, send 'em back up North where they come from.  Monsters in the sewers...Bollocks.

End transcript
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Jenne

I got the call about 3 am.  The soft warmth sleeping next to me had left her reading glasses right beside the phone, and I had to root around for the receiver.

"Mmm...uh, mhello?"

"It's me.  It's on."

"Shit."

"Yeah, Fucker.  Game's afoot.  Get your ass in gear, Old Man."

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes.  Dammit.  Goddammit.  I thought I had at least 36 hours.  Last night I figured, Have a great dinner, knock a few back, get laid and bang out a few more for good measure, and get a good night's sleep.  Shaking the cobwebs out of my head I slammed the already-gone-dead phone down and picked up my drawers from where I'd dropped them not two hours ago.

Dammit.

The tousled head in the bed didn't make a sound.  I crept out of bed, shrugging into my black t-shirt and felt around the side of the bed for my socks and shoes.  Dressed, I went to the bathroom down the hall so's not to wake "my company" and splashed cold water on my face.  Taking a quick glance at the bloodshot eyes and scrubby past-5 o'clock shadow, I realized I was looking old.  

"Old man, indeed.  Asshole."  That last was for the caller.  My little brother.  The shit had been on Special Ops and had roped me in last week.  I was supposed to be on medical leave.  The higher ups had been trying to keep me from assignments like this for a couple of months, but I couldn't stay away.  Shit's been going down that just shouldn't be going down for a long time.  

I grabbed my keys and helmet after shrugging into my jacket.  I hopped on my bike and roared down the highway, barely turning onto the ramp in time.  I had to get it together.  A lot of shit was at stake.

The compound where I made contact with Crazy Eddie (his name ever since he and I went through boot camp together and played like we were GI Joe, though we were just kids, back then, straight from the 'hood) had a gate around it with barbed wire.  It was set next to a cow pasture and folks in the neighborhood thought it was an alumimnum factory.  Guess they figured that stench in the air was from smelting or somethin'.

"Got the specs, Eddie?  We gotta go in quick.  Junior called me about a half-hour ago, said shit's already going down--what the fuck?"

"Goddammit.  I knew this was going to go bad.  I knew it!  Look, man, you gotta fix this.  They put the GAS in the WRONG SUITS.  THE WRONG SUITS, MAN!"

"Eddie!  EDDIE!"  I grabbed his face between my hands and looked into his eyes.  "Ed, you know why we're on this mission.  We gotta fix this shit quick.  Those kids out there...they're depending on us."

I got the specs and rolled them up, tucking them inside my back compartment on my bike.  I roared off to the city limits, turning when I got to an old farm, where in back near the barn was a semitruck full of ammunition, supplies and more firepower than I'd seen in the last 10 years.

"What the fuck, man?  Where the hell have you been?"  My brother grabbed me and hugged me hard, once.  "Stan's still working on it.  You got the stuff?  Eddie cough it up?"

"Yeah, the paranoid shit had to be shook into submission, but yeah, I got it.  Here."  I handed Junior the plans and he took them inside the barn.  I followed him, knowing my fate rested with his in those hands of his, those hands that'd been murdering their way across the eastern seaboard.  Our operatives were spread far and wide, and Junior was the secret government backtracker, locking down those who were defying the government, shoring them up, and then making sure their enemies were taken care of.

The feds had left us no choice in '12.  When that shit in Congress went down, the whole country just went to Hell in a handbasket, and we in military intelligence were left to our own devices.  My old CO had been tapped, and now there were 7 platoons stranded throughout the continent, fighting for what was ours not 2 years ago.

I didn't have much faith in our efforts--London was succumbing to the "THINGS" in their sewer, the whole of Madrid had contracted some sort of contagion that was ripping through their water system, France was, well, France, and the Russians had shipped the current menace over to us to experiment with, in order to help them survive it.  And it had grown and run amok ever since it escaped our military labs out in Utah.

"Motherfucker!" I said in a quiet oath under my breath.  "It's grown."  The computer display I was looking at showed this thing had taken over lower Manhattan, most of Los Angeles, all of San Franciso, and pockets of the states along the Mississippi, Missouri and Colorado Rivers.  

"It's rumored to be harbored in the Great Lakes, too.  We're readying the camelbacks for the mission.  You up for a good time?" Junior looked at me and raised his brow.

I winked at him and said, "You get this gas shit ready to kick this thing's ass, and I'm up for any program."

"Well, come on, Rog, what are you waiting for then?"  And together we locked in our passwords and put a map in place for our next targets.  With the shit we had on board that night, we were gonna take back the world.  Our world.  For us.

The Good Reverend Roger

Extract from a police report dealing with the public intoxication of one Reginald Cooper, a homeless man from Southampton's East side.

Why don't you believe me?  It were just like I said!  This big beastie comes ripping up out of the storm drain, an bleedin' all over the place, and then these two guys wearing Orange space suits like on the telly come up, too, and they grab the beastie and shove spears in it and like that.  And then they haul the thing back down the hole, and one of them, he looks at me for a minute, like maybe I seen too much to be walking around, only it's hard to tell cause he's got a helmet covering his face and his elbows and knees are making this whirring noise when he moves.  Then he makes this weird bobbin' movement, like he's laughing, then he jumps down the hole after 'is mate.

What?  No, I were only a little off on the wine.  Paint huffing is for wasters.  Me, I'm a gentleman.

End of extract
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

The Good Reverend Roger

" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Jenne

:D  I'm proud that I managed to get you drunk, laid and make you hero of a lost, going to shit world, all in the same extract.  Though it's not as imaginative as the other stuff, it was fun.

The Good Reverend Roger

Quote from: Jenne on March 29, 2011, 08:07:26 PM
:D  I'm proud that I managed to get you drunk, laid and make you hero of a lost, going to shit world, all in the same extract.  Though it's not as imaginative as the other stuff, it was fun.

Oh, no, it was awesome.

My brother, incidentally, is always mixed up in weird things with the feds (no James Bond shit, mostly engineering shit), but he's older than me.
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.

Jenne

Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 29, 2011, 08:08:38 PM
Quote from: Jenne on March 29, 2011, 08:07:26 PM
:D  I'm proud that I managed to get you drunk, laid and make you hero of a lost, going to shit world, all in the same extract.  Though it's not as imaginative as the other stuff, it was fun.

Oh, no, it was awesome.

My brother, incidentally, is always mixed up in weird things with the feds (no James Bond shit, mostly engineering shit), but he's older than me.

...I totally forgot you even HAD a brother!  :D  Can't see you as a middle child, though, strangely...you like detail way too much.

Anyway, thank you.  It was fun, and exhausting.  Damn.  I'd never make it as a writer.  Well, not while doing something else altogether, that is. 

The Good Reverend Roger

Quote from: Jenne on March 29, 2011, 08:10:09 PM
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 29, 2011, 08:08:38 PM
Quote from: Jenne on March 29, 2011, 08:07:26 PM
:D  I'm proud that I managed to get you drunk, laid and make you hero of a lost, going to shit world, all in the same extract.  Though it's not as imaginative as the other stuff, it was fun.

Oh, no, it was awesome.

My brother, incidentally, is always mixed up in weird things with the feds (no James Bond shit, mostly engineering shit), but he's older than me.

...I totally forgot you even HAD a brother!  :D  Can't see you as a middle child, though, strangely...you like detail way too much.

Anyway, thank you.  It was fun, and exhausting.  Damn.  I'd never make it as a writer.  Well, not while doing something else altogether, that is. 

It was fucking awesome, and it gets easier the more you do it.

" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
- TGRR, shaming himself forever, 7/8/2017

"Billy, when I say that ethics is our number one priority and safety is also our number one priority, you should take that to mean exactly what I said. Also quality. That's our number one priority as well. Don't look at me that way, you're in the corporate world now and this is how it works."
- TGRR, raising the bar at work.