The remains of people long dead and gone to skeleton lie strewn about a desert in the growing dark. A little distance away, one sits away from the others. A journal lies nearby. Most of it is illegible, but the following section can be made out.
Poor Bunny. He was no more than a child himself on the inside. Poor Jake, who wasn't ready for any of this. How could we have been, though. None of us knew what the hell was going on. Poor Tommy, what an awful way to go.
It shouldn't have been like this! We were trying to fix things! All we wanted was to stop the Pigs. But we didn't know what was going on anymore, didn't know what to do. We didn't know what we wanted to stop. It was too big, I guess. It's too late now, everything is over.
Fire's about to go out, I guess we'll be next. Getting hard to breathe. I don't even know why I keep this damn thing now the whole damn planet
There is a scribble, as of someone writing and then losing strength quickly. This seems to be the last entry. It's just as well, because it's now too dark to read. A forlorn sound moans across the space; a wind is blowing. And in the dark, pages turn, and turn, and turn.
:x
WHAT IS GOING ON!!!!!
:x :x
I don't know, but I like it.
Sunlight passes over the forms of the dead, topping a ridge to the west and setting it aflame.
The journal near to the dead possible woman is opened to a new page, one near the beginning.
We found a hoverwhatsit today! Not one of those tiny ones, no, this one is like, I dunno, a cruiseship or something, with big anti-gravs on the bottom. We plan on hijacking it and bringing most of the refugees with us. We rescued them from the Pigs, but we have to move quickly. They'll be on our trail in no time, and we can't afford to get caught. We're still trying to figure out a plan, we'll probably have one soon.
Hm. I have a possible idea. Maybe if we went straight through the Pigs' camp, we could cause enough confusion and get away. Yeah! I think I'll go see if the others are up for it...
Yes! We've got a couple back-up plans just in case something goes wrong, but we're pretty much figured out on tomorrow. Gonna be one hell of a shindig.
End of entry. The air is still and dead all day. The possible writer of the journal screams at infinity, jaw hanging askew. Night falls, and the wind picks up again, still moaning away. The pages begin to turn, and turn, and turn.
I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT
:argh!:
More please.
The page open the next morning is a picture.
(http://i5.photobucket.com/albums/y153/Meiintas/Pig.jpg)
It seems the writer wasn't a very good drawer. It appears to be a hybrid pig-man, with several captions: "Stupid Pig", "haha you have a tail", and "puke stick".
On the next page is the following:
They almost caught us today. Why are they chasing us? There's so much bullshit going on right now amongst the higher ups, I can't even keep up. We have to do something. Jack is talking about doing something about it all, but I don't think he knows what. What CAN we do? The only sure thing is that there is no more sure things. We obviously can't trust the higher ups. My gramma used to tell me bedtime stories about how it used to be. I don't think she's telling the truth, though. People wouldn't have just LET people take control of their lives if they had some control in the beginning. I think she was just trying to put ideas in my head.
This page seems to be somewhat earlier than yesterday's page.
Quote from: Jenkem and Bubble Baths on April 09, 2011, 09:26:41 PM
It seems the writer wasn't a very good drawer. It appears to be a hybrid pig-man, with several captions: "Stupid Pig", "haha you have a tail", and "puke stick".
:lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz: :lulz:
You are a superb writer, J&BB! Keep it up.
You can still call me Freeky, Nigel. :)
As the sun rises and reflects of patches of air in a strange fashion, it can be seen that the page is still open to the drawing that looks like it was drawn with a rock and some dirt. It is apparent the wind did not return the night before. Nothing interesting there.
The bodies remain unchanged. Dry, dusty skeletons sitting around a blackened pit. A couple that look as if they might have been keeping watch, although not very far away, possibly as if they didn't expect trouble and were only doing it for the look of the thing. Several skeletons are lying in a cluster, as if the had been holding each other before sleep - or something else - took them. A couple bodies lie with their hands at their throats.
Pull back. There is no greenery, live or dead. There is no movement from animals of any kind, despite the coolness of the day. It is dry, barren earth as far as the eye can see. Some patches of bedrock show through the colorless earth. The campsite can just be seen under an overhanging rock protrusion; this is a canyon, though a wide one, and carved from wind.
Pull back. In the distance, there seems to be a copse of trees, but looking closely, they are long dead. Dust devils far out, as high as a mile, can be seen roaming their kingdom of deserted, desolate land. No signs can be seen of birds, if there were eyes to watch, and no sounds of them, either, if there were ears to hear.
Off towards the horizon, clouds are massing. As night falls, the storm marches over the land, thunder like cannonfire and lightning like explosive blasts, and rain like acid.
:) thanks!
:mittens:
Freeky this is awesome!!!
Last night had been turbulent and loud. With the sun up and the storm gone, however, little has changed. Maybe a few splotches in the ancient clothes on the bodies near the edge of the overhanging rock have been eaten away, but hardly anything different. But there is a new page opened in the journal.
We nearly didn't make it out of the caves alive. We lost a lot of the refugees. There was a monster flood, I have no idea how it happened. Bunny said something about the Pigs opening a dam. How is there a dam under a mountain?
Anyway, we're out now. It's too dark and scary under there, anyway. We're in a forest, or some kind of swamp, or something that is halfway between them.
The hoverthingy was nearly capsized by the flood water. The lights flickered in and out, it was so confusing. I think it was a mistake to ever leave home. I wish I knew what to do. We need help, bad.
When's the last time I had some sleep? Better get some now, while I have a chance.
I don't think I've ever been so scared.
The script on this page is very shaky and roams from the lines a lot.
The sun sets down behind the mountains, the air shimmering slightly with light before the sun leaves completely, and a wind picks up again. Pages turn, and turn, and turn.
This is fucking eerie.
This is so full of shuddering scariness.
Clouds - non-storming kind - move in the sky. The sun peeks out in sudden bursts, then hides again. Down below, a new page is showing. Looks like this one was one of the last entries, but not THE last.
Son in Heaven! Things are spiralling out of control. We have almost no time left to stop the higher ups, and the Pigs are on the lookout for us. Have to keep moving, and fast. We had to stop, because Bunny is in shock, we think, after watching Tommy die. The Pigs' pigs ate him alive, man. He never had a chance.
But we found out what we need to try to do, finally. We found a silo, and we think that's where they're keeping it. I don't exactly know what "it" is, nor what we'll do when we get there. I just hope Jack can keep it together for a little while longer. I think he's starting to lose it. Ever since the forest-swamp, and what we found there, he's not been right. It breaks my heart.
Got to get some sleep. Been days, almost, since I had the time. We'll have a few hours, and then we'll get up and leave.
Overhead, the afternoon sky is a bright red. It's been that way since morning, actually. Every morning.
Well, I'm glad I'm getting the tone right, at least. :)
Eeegh. Arm-hairs standing up.
Bump for easy finding.
Time has passed, or maybe not. It's hard to tell when everything stays the same.
But apparently some time has passed. A new page is open. An earlier one, it looks like.
We were on our way to the next city today. Before we got there, though, we found a small camp of underclass. I remembered that my gramma told me once that everyone, even the underclasses, got their sicknesses treated. I think my gramma must have really been losing it those last few years she was with us.
Anyway. It was really scary, because we didn't know how to get around them, and everyone knows that if you go near an underclassman and go to a big city you'll start an epidemic that will wipe out the entire population. That's why the Pigs have orders to shoot anyone who doesn't belong. They usually do it on sight, so as to prevent much travelling.
We were coming over this hill, right, and this awful stench hit us. That was our first hint that we were in trouble. It smelled like amonia, and dead bodies, and I don't know how else to describe it, only that it was sad and desperate. There were shacks made of rusted sheet metal, and trash everywhere. We decided we had to walk through after a while, because there was no way through.
What we didn't know when we decided that that there were Pigs watching them and making sure they didn't leave the area.
It seems that this entry is continued on the next page. Hours pass, and winds hotter than the air howl and moan, but the pages of the journal are barely touched.
moreMOREmore!MOREmoreMORE!
Good stuff, Freeky!
:D
talent!
A gentle, steady breeze is blowing. flip
We walked along the river, there was a river, I remember seeing it and smelling it and remembering how my teachers always told us that the underclassmen live in filth because they don't WANT to learn to be clean and sanitary. I don't think I ever quite believed it, and after experiencing it in person I definitely didn't believe it.
We felt them watching us. The underclassmen, I mean. We didn't see them though, I think they were hiding. We didn't stop to think about it very much, because we heard some thunder in the distance and figured we had better hurry up or get caught in a storm. We were right, but it was different than that.
The encampment was built on either side of the river, so we basically had to march through the middle. It went on for about a mile - quite small, compared to others I've heard of, but very dense, it was surprising to me - and we were almost out the other side when this guy comes up to us. He's this big guy, and he says to us "Hey. What are you doing in my town?" "We're just passing through, mister," said Jack. "I just bet you are, kid. Just backpacking through an underclass city, is that it?" "No," said me, "we're just... um..." "Just what?"
I didn't really know what to say. What were we doing? There is really only one thing I want to accomplish, and only one way I could think of how to say it. I hung my head, already embarrassed. "We're gonna save the world, mister." Dude roared, actually roared, in laughter.
The page flips again, but it's become too dark to read the next page.
(I am totally going to finish the story THIS WEEK. Promise. It's just, you know, 2 in the morning and I have a final in a few hours.)
Just to reiterate, I know now what this story is, and most of the bits between what you've read, and I will finish it this week.
See if you can guess what it is precisely. It'll be fun!
YAY!
Holy shit, Freeky, this is excellent.
Good luck on the finals, then finish, plz?
Freeeky! Dude! I don't know how I missed this last time around. Good lord.
Can't wait to see the rest! :D
Yeah, sorry about the 8 months of not working on this. :oops: :lol:
Quote from: Science me, babby on December 15, 2011, 06:14:35 PM
Yeah, sorry about the 8 months of not working on this. :oops: :lol:
You've been busy.
Quote from: Luna on December 15, 2011, 06:39:12 PM
Quote from: Science me, babby on December 15, 2011, 06:14:35 PM
Yeah, sorry about the 8 months of not working on this. :oops: :lol:
You've been busy.
Oh, Luna. You're sweet. Wrong, but very sweet.
flip
He asked a bunch of questions I can't remember now, and sometime in there a bunch of angry looking people showed up and had us surrounded, and I know that because I all of a sudden knew they were just standing there. It was really creepy, and I'm pretty sure if Trevor, that's the big guy's name, Trevor, if he hadn't eventually believed us, we'd have probably been killed. So he says for us to follow him, so we do because we don't see any other choice. I looked at Jake, and he looked scared, like I was. So we go, and he leads us to a bigger shack, it was pretty big. He said, "this is our town hall." He sounded kind of bitter when he said it, kind of derisive about it. He told me later he'd used to live in Avondale before they'd shipped him down here to Arivaca Junction. My gramma told me about Arivaca Junction once, though she was pretty vague; "There was a railroad with blobby black rocks around it. Also I think there was a ghost town somewhere around there." I asked him about why did he have to come live here and he said to me, he said "Kid, questions like that are what get you a ticket to being underclass."
He had brought us to his City Hall because he wanted to talk to us, and there was enough furniture for us to sit I guess. I can't remember exactly what he said, but I remember the first thing he said was "Big ideas have big consequences. Didn't you know?"
We talked for a while, and he told us what was up with this place, and it was different from what I'd been taught about the underclass and where they chose, or didn't choose I guess, to live. He said that most of them that live here were deemed unfit for society, which lined up with what I thought I knew, but his explanations were different. They might have said the wrong thing in the wrong person's ear, or they might have stood up for themselves versus the Pigs, he said. They might have been too smart for their own good, they might have made a ruckus about a family member disappearing, he said. Well, I guess that does sort of align with what I thought I knew, it's just phrased differently, to make them, the underclass, look like the victims in the situation.
(http://static.tumblr.com/wykoqhc/03zlvfobz/thisisstupidflashing.gif)
I'll finish it, but is it just me or did I pick a really stupid way to go with it?
I don't think it's stupid at all. Keep going!
What makes you think it's stupid?
Is it that it's not going where you had planned for it to go? Or :?
I like it!
Quote from: Nigel on December 18, 2011, 12:09:38 AM
What makes you think it's stupid?
Is it that it's not going where you had planned for it to go? Or :?
I dunno. I know what it is and where the end is, but I don't have a beginning or a middle, and I didn't want to get into dialogue or large sections of details. It helped with the ambiance, those short bits of detail that don't really add up, but I also do want to tell a good story, too.
ETA: BLAAAAARGH. Ah well, maybe is just this section that bugs me. The sooner I finish it, the sooner I can move on.
Note: Edited a name for preference and ...thingy. That thing that happens where it is the same throughout and doesn't change back and forth.
THINGY. :argh!: <- can't remember.
Continuity? Maybe.
flip
As much as I wanted to believe this guy, who was nice enough, that he didn't really do anything wrong, how could the higher ups tell that big of lies? How could everyone believe them? It still boggles my mind. So I just nodded politely. He talked about how a lot of people here just wanted things to change, and I guess that explains a bit why me and Jack are getting chased. I'm still not sure I get it.
A gaggle of underclass refugee whoever were hanging around just outside the door. I still don't know what they wanted, it was kind of weird. But other than that, people were kind of... nice isn't really the word. A lot of people seemed beaten, and from that they were subdued and meek. Others were angry, more than a few got in our faces with a load of belligerence. Nobody really seemed happy, everyone had some level of distraught just emanating out of them. Even the people who just sat against their houses buildings (they aren't really houses, but shacks is a bit cliche for what they are). ESPECIALLY them. It supports Trevor's point of view and undercuts the one I always had, but we're always told in school and everywhere about how the underclassmen aren't like us citizens, because they don't want to work, and they're selfish and smug and right shameful bastards. Nobody here acts smug, though, and it doesn't seem like they could work if they wanted to, unless you count burying their dead (Trevor tells us that there's a weekly rotation). It makes me really uncomfortable to think I might have swallowed such heinous lies all my life without really thinking about it.
Trevor said we wouldn't be able to leave. That freaked us both out, we thought they were going to keep us hostage so that they could regain their citizenship. No, he said, we wouldn't be able to leave because nobody is allowed to leave an underclass town. We pointed out that we were still citizens, we were officially on a vacation, but he just laughed. It wasn't a very nice laugh, it was an angry one.
flip
The thunder me and Jake had been hearing all afternoon swelled noticeably and then died back down, which made me scoff outwardly. What the hell kind of storybook had I landed myself in, I thought, that the fucking weather would participate? At least I wasn't scared anymore. It was clear to me that these people were just trying to mess with us. I don't think anybody noticed, because I did it quietly. Probably for the best.
Trevor told us that their town had been under supervision for about a year, since some nut case who didn't know how things really work tried to go back to his home. guy said he didn't do what they said he did. I doubted that. The higher ups had the pigs publicly bastinado the guy and made him walk home, the whole eighty miles. Standard punishment for attempted underclass escapees, but I remember that because it happens so rarely. I guess what doesn't get told is that whenever an attempted escapee gets back, the whole underclass town is flogged. This is to keep the underclass keep each other in line, Trevor said. I doubt that. It's a bit too contrived, a bit too insane and cruel.
My gramma told me once a few years back that once they didn't used to have such big knives when they bastinadoed someone. How big were the knives, I asked her. They didn't use knives at all, she said. Just big sticks.
That's ridiculous. How can you properly slice open all the creases in a person's feet with a stick?
<shiver>
Keep going...
Damn. Just, damn. :eek:
More bigger!