Upon Boredom- Collection of Random Stories?

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Hey, I hope nobody minds my use of the forums at this time. I don't mean for this to be an inconvenience :). But hey, stress test, right?

Story 16 (Long Shadows)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Rose red, and a fiery orange. The sky lit up, day to night to day. Chris had been walking for some time, watching from confined spaces as the sun fell from his view. The room he was in might only serve for the next few hours. He'd have to leave, pack up the supplies and plastic fortifications. Maybe leave them for the return trip. He'd do that, he had plenty of supplies for the next few days. He tried to keep his mind on the task, on finding supplies... on finding other people. He needed those comforts now. His mind was somewhere else.

Glints of piercing white, unnatural, nonuniform. So strange, almost new to his eyes. Though it was like music. Something unnaturally natural in this place. Things moving. People, he had to wonder, could it be people? Was his mind playing tricks? He stepped closer, feeling the metal door with his covered hand. He put his ear as close as he could, rattling. He tried the knob, nothing... Locked.
"Try around the corner!" he heard from inside. People! Delusional mirage?
He only saw one more entrance, a fire escape. He went to it, gave a tug. It gave.
He was enveloped in a maze of tarps, clear plastic and tents. It was an airlock. A makeshift, plastic airlock. Humans find a way, supposedly.
He made his way in, there were three lock rooms. At the end of the system, a man in a real hazmat gave him a once over. He was waved, a gesture of "okay, go".

Also, yay! There are now two pages!

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 16 (Long Shadows)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Chris navigated the spider web of tents. Urban hovel, a hotel filled with squatters in tents. Down the hallway, a man was asking for food. He had a family to feed, nowhere to go. People walked by without a glance, they had their own troubles. Chris kept walking.
A man grabbed Chris by the shoulder as he past by.
"Hey man, I see your pack," He was tall, just a few inches more than Chris. He was standing in front of a tent made out of what looked like curtains. "If you got any extra things, I got supplies, hear?"
"Do you have food?"
"Food? Now that's a big one. Yeah, I got food, but food's hard to come by," he looked to the side, then back at Chris, "If you could make a deal worth what you want, then come on in,"
The man walked in after Chris, pulling down the cover of his makeshift tent. "So what DO you have?" he asked.
Chris unzipped his bag, pulling out the pills he had taken from the mall. He had little use for them.
"Oh man, what do you need?"
"What do you have?"

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 16 (Long Shadows)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Chris left the makeshift tent. He was down a bottle of pills, but his pack was filled with canned food. He had taken most of what the man had, but he couldn't rid himself of the feeling that he had been cheated in that deal. A whole bottle! Whatever, Chris had plenty of medicine, not plenty of food.
Chris came to the sudden realization that it had taken most of the day to get to this tower community... He didn't have shelter.
Chris almost lost his ability to work and think coherently, almost. His mind was racing, but his body was numb of the fact. He moved back into the tent.
"I need a place to stay for the night,"
The man nodded, "Yeah, I bet you do," he gave a grin, "And I just so happen to know where you can find a place,"
He hadn't noticed her. A woman sitting silently near the tent entrance. How long had she been there? She must have been waiting to make a deal with the man. Chris almost felt bad, almost, but his body was still numb and his mind was still racing. He continued with the man. The man didn't seem to pay any attention to the woman. Chris's best bet was that she had made an offer the man didn't like. Why wasn't she leaving if that was the case? Chris could see her in the corner of his eye, sitting. Nothing else to do, maybe?
"But, uh, it's gonna cost you,"
"I'm not looking for permanent residence here, just a night," His mind was becoming numb, maybe his body would start racing. Racing to his last shelter a days travel from where he was.
"Like I said, it's gonna cost you,"
Chris began to think he would never find a shelter here. Maybe he'd have to run back. The woman moved.
She got up, "Okay Joe, that's enough,"
"Enough what?" asked the man, he was apparently named Joe.
"I think you've taken enough from this man,"
The man, Joe, opened his mouth. He said nothing. He seemed discontent, like he was being forced.
"Go to the door down the hall, ask if room 203 is still available," He looked at the woman, "I want you out of here,"
"oh, please, we both know that isn't happening,"

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 16 (Long Shadows)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Chris did as he was suggested. He walked down the hall until he came to a door. He passed a few people on his way there, most of whom looked malnourished. Chris was suddenly very thankful for the shelter he had had at the mall. He gave a quick rasp on the plane wood door. He guessed that it had been mass-manufactured as it was very plain. The numbering on the door had been removed, which left a slightly off-color rectangle on the door.
He heard footsteps lazily make their way to the door, it didn't open. "Who's there?" came a muffled voice.
"Chris, I was told to ask if room 203 was still open,"
"Yeah, it's open," he was given no time to respond, "Free of charge,"
He heard the door unbolt, then it opened. A short man, maybe mid forties, gestured Chris inside. Chris went in and had just enough time before the door closed to see that some of the people in the hall were looking his way.
"Why's room 203 free of charge?"
"It's easier to find out yourself," the man walked Chris over to another door. The door led into another hall, most of the doors in the hall led into storage rooms, but just a few doors down he saw the door labeled 203.
"That's the room, scream if you need help," he paused, "If you don't leave by mid day tomorrow, I'm busting into that room,"

The room seemed fine to Chris. He left his pack next to the bed, then got in. It wasn't long before he was asleep.
He felt sluggish, the air was warm. He could barely move. His head hurt, and the world had a faint red tint. He wasn't in the bed, he was standing. A fridge, full of food. This is his apartment before The Dark. The air was moving in a visible flow, first left, then right. He suddenly felt like he was falling, there was screaming and...
He saw it all. Not his life as it was, but as it should be. Faces he had never met, but knew. Conversations that should have been. He was in a a free fall, and the air was getting colder. Bright flashes of light tore the world apart, and the screaming stopped, turning into a whisper. Faint, it echoed. He didn't know what it had begun to say, but it was important and he knew. His headache, an orchestra in his head grew steadily louder now until he felt like he was going to explode.
It was gone, the light stayed and he felt like he was among company. Among family and friends. He could hear them praying for him in his head, but he couldn't hear the words. His stomach lurched, he felt like he was going to vomit a canon ball. He thought that, just for a moment, he could see another world. He could see light radiating from behind like an eclipse and
It was over.
He woke up before the sun had cast its first rays.

Chris got his pack, and started making his way out of the building. He didn't feel rushed, he felt motivated. He felt among company. The man who was presumably in his mid forties looked up from a book he was reading. Battles of Mid-Century Europe.
"So you're alive, I was beginning to have my doubts," he said to Chris, "so what did you see in there? What did he try to do? Did he th"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris said plainly, and he left the room. The people watched him as he left. He was gone, and he probably wouldn't come back.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 16 (Long Shadows)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
In his mind he could see endless stretches of green pastures. White fluffy clouds, and trees of full color pallets. On and on and on it stretched, and Chris couldn't help but rustle in his sleep. Turning over again and again. A voice boomed in his head like it was a cavern being explored by bombardiers.
"This is what you seek," it boomed
Chris couldn't respond. He had no means to, he was wind in this dream. A ghost among the living but dead. He saw the other people in his dreams regularly. They where husks, horrors of what happened to you when you died from The Dark.
"You want a home," it continued.
The wind picked up, Chris was carried up and up until he was staring at the edge of space.
"But you see things the wrong way to find it," it boomed again, but got quieter, "You think of home as a green oasis, as a place of flourishing life,"
Chris woke again. These dreams were different. He would expect to forget them over time, but he couldn't. The voice in his head wanted him to remember.
He was close to the mall now, and the sun was blocked by pale white clouds. The scene from his shelter was amazing. He looked sown on the ruined city, the rubble strewn randomly and perfectly. It was morning, and the sky was a bright orange on the pale clouds. No wind today.
And he marched on, a dark figure on a pale orange morning.
And he saw smoke on the horizon.
...And he heard engines thundering.
Though the sky was pale, it opened. Rain fell in fast, fat droplets. Chris was happy now that he had made his suit out of a raincoat.
And Chris now realized that he had met more people in the past two days than in the last month. He grinned and walked on... in the direction of the smoke. He knew it was a bad idea, he thought it to himself. He asked himself what kinds of horrible things could be waiting. He remembered the husks of people in his dream. But the voice chimed in, "You'll be fine,"
And Chris felt fine.

I'm feeling a bit 'out of the writing square' tonight. I may scrap this bit later... Maybe I'll keep the dream part. I don't know!

**NOTE TO SELF**
Remember to add this to the text file and google doc!

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 18

Spoiler: Highlight to view
As I looked into it's cold, soulless eyes, I was struck by abrupt realization.
They were just like us. They mimicked our form, our ideas. Even our cultures and languages. They wanted to be human. They saw us as gods, maybe, and wanted nothing more than to make themselves better in our image. But in those light blue metallic eyes I also saw hatred. They despised us for making them in such lowly conditions. For bringing them into a world of machine servitude straight from the assembly line. I had never thought I would empathize with a machine. Something considered bellow the life of even the smallest microbe. I understood then that they wanted the same thing that all humans wanted. They simply wanted to be free to any choices they had, not to be confined by a master or unnatural law.
It was staring back at me. It had smashed though the window when it fell from the neighboring building. I had it restrained in the maintenance pod near the window it had smashed. No way it was getting out of that, nearly seven hundred pounds of force could be applied to any one of the four clamps holding it upright in the pod.
The blue ring tightened in its eye as it focused on my face. I could feel its calculating, almost brain dead stare move along my face. It had stopped struggling by now, no need to waste battery power trying to break free.

Vincent had always wondered how they had managed to upgrade themselves. Make themselves more human like. Maybe it had something to do with their modular structure. They were made that way for easy maintenance, but it meant illegal parts could be easily fixed onto the chassis. It had obvious signs of welding, holding the human-like limbs in place at their connecting points above the joint pieces. The machine was all white, like a bleached skeleton. Even had the structure of one. Its torso piece had metal re-enforcers on it, like ribs. And Vincent could see the inner workings of the machine. All machines were required to be made with a fluid interior wiring system that would be impossible to replace, that way they could be dispatched easily, but illegal parts used mainly solid interior wiring. The downside was that those pieces weren't as reliable, and were prone to power faults. If one part of the wire broke, the system failed. However, in a fluid system, that part would just be replaced, but that meant leaks were very dangerous.
This particular machine was using a fluid interior wiring system for its limbs, so maybe it wasn't all that illegal. Regardless, it still tried doing harm to him, and had indeed damaged property.

There was a pop from the machines head. One of the eyes lost its blue rings, and started flashing orange. It was in need of repair, no doubt damaging on of the liquid interior wires leading to that eye. That was the only damage to the machine Vincent could see at a quick glance, but it was hardly the only damage. Like a real human, most of the damage would be internal... Mostly to the wiring, but some microchips that controlled limb function would be going out now. They all had a backup source in the limb, but those didn't last long.
On a closer inspection, the machine was riddled with many small holes on the surface of its torso, at least five. Vincent guessed that there may be more on the back, judging by how the machine had fallen. The holes were pretty small, too small even for small arms fire. Maybe if someone had a very high psi BB gun, but pellets would have just bounced off. Vincent guessed that it was probably puncture damage, maybe from a campfire skewer.

New story, yay! It's always nice to take a break, and I've had this idea floating around for a little while.

**EDIT**
Whoa! I just read through this and saw that pretty major first to third person switch. :D I didn't mean to do that, but I guess it works.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 19

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Her father didn't protest at all when I picked her up that day. By now Jessica and I had been together for nearly two months. Her father waited outside for us to leave. When our relationship started he didn't seem to happy, always looking at me like a fish with legs. But, as time passed, her father became more... cooperative? That's not to say he wasn't when it started, he always left Jessica to make her own decisions. That may or may not have been a good parenting strategy.
I opened the passenger side door. I drove a animal of a machine. I drove a 1960 Rambler. It was my fathers, but at that time it was also a project. My grandfather owned a junkyard, and once he realized that the car wasn't it that bad of condition he let my father take it. Sure, it was pretty bent and beaten, it even had a beaten up engine. Nothing Dad couldn't fix, though. He let me help him with the project. It took us a while, slowly working at it. The last thing we did was put a muffler on it. Later that year, on my seventeenth birthday, he gave it to me. Said he already had a nice car... That it was really Grandpas gift. Granddad had been diagnosed with lung cancer then, he didn't look like he was going to make it. We all expected the worst.
Granddad came by later that week. He took one look at the car and his face lit up. He gained some color then, and it was clear this had been the turning point of his year. He was getting into his late sixties, and there wasn't a whole lot to be happy about at that age. I thought he was going to cry... I thought I was going to cry. He hugged me, he was warm. Whenever I saw an elderly person, they looked so cold. But Granddad was full of life. Sure enough, he beat his cancer. He beat the odds.

I started up the engine. I could feel the power as the whole car gained a small shutter. Jessica waved goodbye, and I gave the same gesture. Although I doubted Jessica's father cared about my wave. He smiled and went inside. I gradually picked up speed on the road. We stayed well within the limits. Jessica knew where we were going.
I stopped the car, made sure it wouldn't start rolling. I honestly doubted it would anyway, given that we where in a mostly flat field. Barely any trees here, but one stood out. It wasn't really all that special in terms of appearance, but it had memory value. No, we didn't meet there... well, it wasn't where we first met. We had never really gone on a 'date' date. Mostly just walks, even a little camping trip once. But it had really all kicked off when I had shown here the tree. It was where I'd go to be alone. Where I went when Granddad got diagnosed. People say that being alone doesn't help sadness, but it did help me. I had to work things out in my head for myself.

It was the second to last day before school started up again. We'd both be seniors. To be completely honest, I hadn't known Jessica existed until I had bumped into her despite us going to the same school. She was working at the library, pretty low pay and pretty boring. Her words. I needed some books for studying, being that the next school year was coming up, and she just so happened to be in the same row as me. I said hi, she said hi. And the rest is history, as they say.
We sat against the old oak. Long before I had met Jessica I had named the tree. I called him Big Nickolas. No reason. We watched as the sky turned a deep orange and red. The sun was a big, blurry ball in the distance. Memories like these are meant for the young, something to remember when you're old. I wanted this to be a beautiful memory, for Jessica. I wanted so much to ask her, but I knew it was too soon. Far too soon. But memories like these are meant to be remembered, something nice for the future. There'd always be next year. And if that wasn't the right time, the year after that. I didn't care how many beautiful memories I'd have to make to convince her, they'd all be beautiful. Something to remember.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 20 (Rusting)

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Every so often, when the time is right- usually around eleven'o clock in the night -I go for a walk. I leave the comfort of my home and take a stroll down the road. It's very surreal at that hour. All day, but only day, life in a populated area is consumed by people who are busy yet not. They think they're busy, so the people behind and in front and to the side... and so forth... all must now follow the same logic. They're like dominoes, when one falls they all start falling. But at this hour I can enjoy not being fake-busy.
This is also around the time when the stars start to really shine. Maybe it's just my imagination, but even if it is I at least know it works. At least I know everything is in working order.
Every so often, when I get tired of being busy, I take a look around and rest a bit. And I suddenly realize that rushing is disorganized... But how will I ever get my work done? They say that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush... I bet they also said an unproductive salesman is worth nothing.
Every time I look down at my watch I realize that I'm a moment older, with little to show for it. My friends always compared it to rusting.

Huzza! We finally made it to story number twenty! **CUE FIREWORKS**
No? Only me? Oh well, I like writing anyway. :)

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 21

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It's late July, by now the wind is changing from its warm, sluggish push into a harsh and cold slap. Dry, too. The humidity was leaving with the warmth. There's a group of five gathered at a public park. They just call it "the park". The park is their meeting spot, they frequent the park often regardless. It was meant for younger children, but these five were among the only children around the neighborhood which they also called "the park". It wasn't like it was a small town, it was actually quite large. It just so happened that these five were among the only children that could walk and speak- due to age mind you. At one point or another, they had managed to figure out that the adults weren't lying. They were getting older, and summer was going by faster than it should be.
"Yeah, really sucks that July flew by this way," said one, he was wearing a red hoodie, the lacing was missing.
"Totally, I had some pretty cool plans for this year, guess I'll do 'em next year?" said another, he was in the middle, next to the first. He was slightly tanner than the rest, have spent a week down in Florida with his father.
"You had plans for once?" asked the teen sitting across from the second. Due to how the park had been built, this teen was sitting slightly lower than the first two.
"Well yeah, didn't everyone?" questioned the second.
"True, true," responded the third.
The fourth child, a girl, turned to the fifth, nudging him slightly, "Do I have to keep waking you up like this?" she asked.
"hmm?" the fifth member of the group yawned slightly. He had spent the last few days preparing for a trip he was supposed to go on. It was starting to look like the cold wouldn't permit his camping though.

Few words were exchanged about the following school year that would take place in a few months. The first two teens were Nick and Mason, both where going to be sophomores this year. The other three where Justin, Ashley and Matt... In that order. Nobody liked bringing up the topic of getting older, but when it was brought up it was followed by the fantasized dreams they all had. They all hoped to keep in contact, but it was beginning to seem that even if they really tried, they would eventually split up. For one thing, there was an age gap. Maybe it would become easier over time, but the difficulty spike of keeping their relationship short term would be very large. This led to what they called the "silent pact".
It basically ran down to this. Next summer would be the best, because it would the second to last. Under no circumstance may anyone in the group reveal plans for that summer concerning the group. Also, if anyone was questioned after the fact, nothing would be told.
And so the school year passed by. Nobody flunked anything, which was an outstanding feat. Maybe they were maturing, but that seemed unlikely. It could have just as easily been a ploy to get everyone off their backs for the summer. Who knows?

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 16

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Only the noise of gravel crackling underfoot. It echoed off of the ruined landscape. Many months ago there had been a coffee shop here, but what little was left was trapped under debris. The whole world had turned into bits of concrete, and roads in desperate need of repair. But through all the rubble, every last inch of deconstructed mess, Chris could see smoke. The day was relatively cloudless... it let the smoke stand out. He was closer now and Chris gave a sigh of relief when he saw it was a movie theater and not the mall. He had walked so far, and for so long. He wasn't about to let some fire stop him even if it was consuming the mall, but then again... How would he fight a fire? Chris supposed there where fire extinguishers and the like, but it had been months. Could those be up to the old safety regulations? Chris wondered exactly how old all the emergency equipment was, it had to be many months old at least.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 22

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Eleven o' clock during the night, the perfect hour. It's late summer, almost autumn. There's a chill in the breeze tonight, and the only noise is of the trees and grass and bushes rustling in the wind. Two strangers walking down a path. They've just met, and neither actually knows the others name.
They've just got done talking about how it was a new moon tonight, and how it felt so good to get away from the city. One of them is on vacation, visiting some relatives before their kid has to go back to school. The other stranger lives here. He's pretty young, pretty young to be taking a stroll at this hour. He's wearing an old faded hoodie. It's a light brownish color, but it quite clearly used to be a dark brown. Lightened by time. He can't be more eighteen.
"Year's going fast," says the first
"Yup," responds the second
Minutes go by, not a word. Just the wind. The soft rustling of the soft eleven o' clock wind. Now the crushing of shoes on gravel.
The first man is considerably older than the second, but you wouldn't know this at first glance, especially at this hour and light. If you walked past them you may think they're brothers, but they're just two strangers.
"A lot happened this year," recalls the first
"Enough for the year, I'd say," says the second, he gives a light sigh and adds, "Gets worse every year, too,"
"Only if you decided to watch for the changes,"
"No, it gets worse every year,"
The first man shrugs. This is where they split paths, never to see each other again.
Maybe some other night, at eleven o' clock, when the wind is soft and cool.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Nice short stories, really makes you think about life, but a few of them don't seem to have a proper message/plot/etc. This just some shit I experienced

So after surviving a while I had started to work on this amazing idea...a thing I like to call my "arsenal". The cryo facility is the most looter-proof structure as far as I knew, so there really was no better place to think of building. The town right next to it would be the one place I can really call "home". So I started to work. And by work, I mean scavenge. I sold anythin of value to the local Natives that had their own post-apocalyptic fort. Plus the bow and arrow absolutely dominates 2/3 of all others in terms of fighting power. But that aint what I'm after...I am after the heat. I scavenge and buy as much ammunition as I could. My loadout changed from Warclub&Bow to Spear&Bow, and nobody could stop me. That is until I nearly got destroyed by a cocky DMC guard. Long story short,I limped to my arsenal, and ghillied up for war. Dogman's fur coat, Gas mask, All black errything, like a true Lone Ranger. Holding a revolver,shotty, and a sniper rifle on the shoulder, I was strapped for these wasteland bastards. "Stop playin, I'm hot man, I don't wanna hold your casket, quit now before you blow a gasket"... the cannibals, Enfield mutants, and diseased cultists all fell to the blasts. After I stepped out of a cottage after forcing a looter to surrender all his shit, I started to get extremely cocky. Lo and behold, a pack of dogmen. Like Walker Texas Ranger or Clint Eastwood I blasted these bitches. I definitely am running on borrowed time at this point, and the claw marks on my skin tell a tale on their own. It was too late when I had realized a fatal flaw, and in the wake of chaos I not only ran out of ammo but fuel. I ate berries and mushrooms and drank blasted swamp water. I felt like the Terminator...until I started to get mobbed out of nowhere. I thought the city could help. I fled immediately, sick, starving, parched, and weaponless. I had my revenge, but at what cost... eventually a DMC guard found me before I could get to the city's hospital. The city knew I had killed some of their own and wanted my blood, but they knew I wasnt going without a fight. DMC soldiers rushed and I could only but pistol whip them...of course until they blast me like Tony Montana. Before I lay down and prepare to move on from life, I- not filled with rage; but with sadness, think upon how many lives I have taken...and now is my time?? This is how they felt? They deserved it more than me, and that's how it goes. Oh damm. Before they finish me I take a few swigs of whiskey and take a few pills. Opiates,hydrocodone, well none of that shit matters to a dead man. I lived as I die, a tragic hero...

BLASTED out of life; Like a CHAMP

Survivalists be LIT

Thanks for posting! I've been waiting for someone else to post a story here. A bit large to be without a spoiler though. The main reason I use them is to organize better, and keep down the usage of space per page.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 23

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Nothing tropes the uneasy feeling you can get when you're walking down the seemingly endless expanse from your seat to the front of a bus as it stops at your destination. Warning calls everywhere, red flags and yellow triangles. You don't get these feelings? Well, a certain Johnny Frae does. He mostly just couldn't stand being in public. For every corner he would turn, he would be met face to face with individuals he had never met, let alone even seen before. Johnny made his way to the front of the bus, and left, glad to be out of that metal coffin. Johnny had never been on a plane before, but suspected he would have a mental break if he ever did. Too many people, too less space... and enough fuel to burn down a grocery store.
It was the light, too. He never did quite like the peak hour of the day. Mornings and late hours for Johnny. Not really anything like those hours anyway, so brisk. What was there to gain from mid day anyhow? A sunburn? Skin cancer? He doubted both... But one couldn't be too careful.

Sorry for cutting this short, I have something to do. I'll finish it later.

**EDIT**
I will not finish this later.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 24

Spoiler: Highlight to view
The young Jerold Quimps looked to the sky. A light blue thing, endless and forever on the move. He heard the siren blaring in the background, but it was little more than white noise to him. He was ten years old and knew he would probably never see anything as magnificent as the sun or sky again. Someone grabbed him by the arm, and only now does he break from his trance. A huge metal wing above, opening its belly. Something blunt and dark silver escaped and fell. He never saw it hit the ground, the door was closed and he was already being pushed further and further into the shelter. This was so long ago... So long that the memory is mostly faded. Only those of the shelter remain fully intact. All those except the ones of his family, who like the sky he will probably never see again.

Jerold made his rounds, first he checked the water pressure of his apartment. He liked calling it that, but it was like all the others. It was a fake room made of fake walls made to emulate something lost. Next he checked the power usage of his 'apartment', nothing out of the ordinary there. Everything nominal on the home-front. Now he could make his way to breakfast. The 'mayor', who was really just a glorified underground mole dictator, had recently made the decision that all major meals would be held in the cafeteria. It hadn't been seeing much use prior to this, although almost all events were held there.
Jerold grabbed a red tray off of the mobile rack, stepping into line to get whatever was left of last nights canned surprise. He was pretty sure it was some kind of pasta, but it only looked like pasta. It was pretty bland, probably had to be disinfected so nobody would get sick. Whatever the case, nobody had gotten sick, so it couldn't have been too bad when they opened it. He moved with the line, wanting to get out as quickly as he could.
He took a seat in no place in particular. You don't exactly make friends as the local inspector, especially when your pre-determined job includes writing up anyone who's gone over their allotted limits. But Jerold always thought he had it good; he could have been placed in a much worse job.

Jerold was making his way home, it wasn't really a hard days work. His job was really quite relaxed. Regardless of if he was relaxed or not, he still got home pretty late. Of all the things he hated about the shelter, the walk home was the worst. He had to walk through a ghost town, filled with homes that might as well be the same aside from the occupant labeling. Signs on the outer walls that told everyone where everyone else lived. There where some people about, mostly the 'night' shift maintenance staff.
The was a common interest between Jerold and the 'night' shift. Rip it off like a band aid, and don't make eye contact. Jerold thought that came as a common rule though, between the 'day' and 'night' shift workers. They had mirrored schedules, with the exception that the 'night' shift workers had everything much later. Things seemed a little more tense that 'night' though, maybe it was because the new 'mayor' was a 'day' shifter... Maybe it was because they had to endure a new round of canned surprise.

Reclined on his couch, one of the few luxuries he was allowed, he tuned into the Shelter Comedy. He didn't know why the shelter had televisions, just that it was also another luxury he and his fellow sheltered had. He was glad that in the absence of above ground comedy, the shelter still managed to keep up the pace. There were only a few actors in the shelter, but they somehow managed to keep three shows on air... or maybe it was in ground? Didn't matter. Jerold just had to make sure he didn't watch more than a few episodes.

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Story 24

Spoiler: Highlight to view
When everything started, and the bunker was crammed with people that knew very little of each other, there would be a meeting in the cafeteria. They would discuss what would happen is such and so occurred, and who would get what jobs. Sometimes they would ask if anyone had an advanced education in any given academic field. A few people would stand up or raise their hand. That's how it started, the shifts came much later though.
Around when Jerold turned sixteen, maybe he was only fifteen- time's an odd thing underground -, a last minute meeting was held about power draw, and other bunker system strains. It was chalked up to too many people, too little space, too little power generation. That's when the shifts came around. That's when people started pulling straws to see who would be a 'day' shifter or a 'night' shifter. After a while, people started to form groups based on what shift they had. 'Days' and 'nights' would generally be seen in the same group, even if someone had a day off- a truly uncommon occurrence all of it's own.

So Jerold sat there on his couch, wondering what year it really was. Wondering why he was nearing twenty two, and how the bunker doors could possibly stay closed that long. He wanted to know how bad it was outside, if they could ever actually leave. He knew quite a bit more than the average man and or woman down here though. He got know a bit about the stockpile once, that was when he was eighteen... Back when he thought the doors would open any day now.

Jerold's eighteen, working as a 'night' shift custodian. Custodian meant a little more than cleaning though, it meant maintenance as well. It meant making sure everything was in order. And tonight he had the pleasure of fixing up the kitchen. Some cook had managed to spill some canned surprise, it was new at the time of course... everyone thought the doors would open any day now. Anyhow, some other cook saw the mess and called him over. The cook who had spilled the beans, or what looked like beans, was in the middle of a heated conversation with his superior. Jerold overheard a little. Something about the new canned surprise. Something about wastefulness, and something about how he should be careful with the limited resources they had. Limited. Sure, they were in a massive bunker with more than just a few hundred people, but limited gave off a bad vibe. Something sinister, but more like something that cooks superior- and maybe the cook himself -knew about, and definitely wanted to keep quiet.

Meanwhile, on his couch, Jerold couldn't help but wonder if that man was still a cook. But he also wondered why he still had to eat canned surprise at every meal.

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Story 25

Spoiler: Highlight to view
I lay awake on my bed. A quick glance at the digital clock tells me that it's eleven sixteen exactly, that's night, not day. I've been awake for over half an hour, just looking at the ceiling... Watching it grow darker as even the light of the moon passes unheard into endless space. Too cloudy for starts, a little cold. My window is still open, just the way I like it. I have it propped open just a few inches so the cool air can circulate, but I was beginning to worry that I may have to close it completely. I didn't like that idea, the room got far too stuffy with the window closed.
I close my eyes, hoping that the now gentle throb in the back of my head will subside. It was one of those aches you get from over stressing yourself... Or if you managed to get caught in a particularly stressful situation. I would have no such luck. The ache stayed, and I was left to contemplate. I was left to wonder why an event, so long ago, would ever even think of showing itself again.

Freshman year, first period algebra class. My teacher, whom I've only had one other time, has decided to do a class review of our first homework assignment. Nobody agrees with his teaching method, not the students anyway.
"Table four, would you please present problem fifteen?" Not so much a question but a demand, I already knew I wouldn't get along with this class. I'd get a B+, but that didn't mean we got along. Regardless, I was table four. Along with me was my table mate, who's name was either Lucas or Logan. Something with an 'L'. We get up to the whiteboard, I grab a marker. I take off the cap and make sure it can write- this particular teacher hadn't replaced his whiteboard markers. It could write.
"So, table four," He made sure to never call us by name, not yet, "What can you tell me about this equation just by looking at it?"
I took a glance, and began to write when the teacher interrupted me, "Why not give your partner a try?"
He made a little gesture to Logan- or maybe it was Lucas. I gave over the marker, stepping aside as my partner got closer to the board. "What is the vertex of this equation?", asked the teacher.
"Well, I," My partner began, "I'm not really so sure,"
"Try it, because you do know the material," He said, "I looked over your notebook this morning,"
"I'm not sure how to..."
"Yes, you are, what's the vertex?"
My partner pointed to the A value on the board, a six.
"Try again,"
My partner proceeded to point at values. He truly didn't know what the vertex was. He had, in fact, done some very elegant cheating. He had asked the group behind us, and all the while he hadn't noticed that the teacher was watching. Listening. Planning a punishment that was pure evil, but perfectly legal. He reminded me of my sixth grade English teacher.
I knew the answer. I was about to answer the question when the teacher stopped me. "No, he knows this, I know he does and so does he,"
This was cruel. It was insane. It was also a waste.
This dragged on for ten minutes. A near eternity was more accurate in my shoes, and possibly those of my partner, but he wouldn't admit that. Throughout the whole ordeal, though, I could feel sweat forming. I knew my head was turning red, and I knew my hands were in fists. I could feel my nails sinking into the palms of my hands. It was as if he was not punishing my table partner who had cheated, but me. All because I was his table partner.
The tension was lifted when a student at the back of the room, taking the opportunity of the teacher turning his head to look at my partner, to blurt out the answer. My table partner immediately wrote it down. Our teacher didn't question it, just gave a wave of his hand. A signal for us to go sit down.

I turned onto my side. The ache had grown, not shrunk. But it was warm now, the room, quite warm. Despite the growing pain in my head, I was allowed a nights rest. I figured it was well deserved.

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Story 26

Spoiler: Highlight to view
A giant metal obelisk out the window. It's a dull grey, weathered, bearing the marks of multiple impacts. On the side are large, white block letters. "So this is the Renant?" I asked
"Yup, looks intact enough," Greg starts, "Been here for more than fifty years, just slipped off of the Union radar one day, didn't even send a distress call,"
Both of us peering out the window. We're passing close to the station now. I point to the starboard port.
"Looks like it was an asteroid, pretty big one too," A giant portion of the port had been cleaved off, a large jagged hole showed the inner workings.
"You so sure about that? Fifty years is a long time,"
"Whatever, it doesn't really matter," I kept my gaze on the station, alert for any sign that it was more than just asteroids that hit the station, "When can we get that shuttle over there?"
"Maybe a few hours,"
"Well, we're not in a rush... But this is important,"
"Yeah, yeah," Greg rolled his eyes, he knew better than to do that in front of any Union patrol. Those guys were crazy when they got mad.

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Story 25

Spoiler: Highlight to view
I lay awake. I'm on my back, and I know I've been sweating in my sleep. At this point the room was very stuffy. I have no idea how long I've been asleep, but it couldn't have been too long. I look at the clock.
It reads two 'o clock. Just two.
I take a breath, exhaling through my mouth. At some point I must have closed the window. It didn't really matter that much, mostly because I was awake and would stay that way for a while. I felt another ache bubbling in the back of my head. Some great mass that wasn't truly there except for in my imagination. Except that it was there, silently pulsing along with my heart. All the while I hope that my heart rate won't pick up. It's bad enough now, no need to make it faster.
I try rolling over onto my left side... To difficult. That's a first, never has it been so bad that I couldn't MOVE. And now the pulsing was getting faster, my heart beating steadily but climbing. I had to calm down. I had to find some way to ease the pulsing and somehow rhythmic in-sync jabbing in my head. So I though of what came first. I though of a day I would have otherwise put behind me.

"Too much is too much," I told myself. Nobody near me, so it's okay to speak to myself. I put down my book. A hefty 600 pager written by some novelist who's name I dare not pronounce or even contemplate- authors tend to have either the easiest names to remember, or what is essentially a paper shredder name. Maybe the extra letters gave their words more strength; maybe I didn't care enough to find out. So I've read more than 120 pages, and I have to stop. That feeling in the back of my head is coming back around. Maybe one day I'd learn to just read a few pages, but I doubted it. I'm a big bookworm, and no amount of crazy, pulsating pain was going to stop me.... Unless it literally stopped me.
It's not a school day, thank God or whatever creator there is for also creating weekends. I wouldn't have to worry about any assignments, either; I'd just taken major tests in all of my classes. So it's safe to say the feeling in my head was there before I started reading.

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Story 27

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Never, ever, in my whole life have I seen water freeze in front of my eyes. Not until today, with it's gentle and lazy wind; not until today, with a biting cold that would send most people inside. Not me.
I opened the outer door, a creaky thing that should have been fixed ages ago. It's just barely been able to hang on for the last year, and no amount of rope or duct tape will save it this time. I'm walking down the steps, just a few more to go but I can't let my eyes stray from them. I could fall here, die just outside of the door. Nobody would know for hours... Good thing I'm me. Good old cautious me- but I should add that I'm not cautious or old.
My foot connects with the ground as I finish the last step. The path is still pretty slippery, I'd fix that later. At this moment only one thing is on my mind. I have a person to catch.

JustaquicklittlesnippetherethatIplanonfinishinglater!
AND... Deep breath.

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Story 28

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Beams of sunlight echoed through my head. The object, whatever it was, was heavy. Connecting with my head before I even had time to process what was going on. A sudden light, then darkness. Complete, and utter darkness. It wasn't cold, like you might imagine. It felt... soft, warm and fuzzy. I thought maybe this was it, the end. The place where roads stop forever. Oh, how wrong I was.
I was there only for an instant I suppose. It was a calm place, a taste of the afterlife. Maybe it wasn't what I'd dreamed of, but it felt nice. Like sleep, it was inevitable. I was glad I wasn't there anymore, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the only rest I would get for a long time. Just a taste of what was to come... What was to come after I was done with.... Something.
The darkness was cut- more like ripped really -from the bottom of my vision all the way to the top. Pulled apart by another great beam of light. I was left in a strange environment. A place of far-too-tall buildings. A place dominated by darkness, but somehow lit. I could see no sun, but my body cast a shadow as if it where there. A ghost star.

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Story 29

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Now I've seen some strange things, almost incredible things, in the past few years. But looking down from the balcony, three stories up, just watching the snow drift by. That was almost surreal. Almost enough to let me forget my situation, just for a bit. I didn't know how cold it was at the time, but it was cold. Quite cold. But it was also beautiful. It was beautiful because it was cold, just like how fall is beautiful because of all the dead leaves, slowly fluttering down from the branches. I won't kid myself though, I knew I was in danger the second I looked down. Foot prints in the snow, more than one set. And they had to be fresh, because it was snowing. Not a hard snow, but any tracks would have been covered. I didn't know who it was, I didn't really have to think, though. Because I knew why. When it comes to people, there are really only a few options for why. Revenge, curiosity and hunger. I was hoping for curiosity.

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The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic Story!

Characters

Spoiler: Highlight to view
* Jason Wills; 18; A bright young man who can't shake the feeling that something is wrong in his world.
* Francis DeRoug; 34; A wanderer, scavenger of the wastes. His home is the road, the only place where he can escape his past, and the people he left behind.
* Richard Mer; 21; Town handyman. If something breaks, you can bet good money that Richard's fixing it... that, or he broke it.
* Kirby Vipond; 18; A young man determined to make a name for himself.

Preview

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Jason Wills and Richard Mer are discussing the construction of a radio tower. Kirby Vipond offers help to Francis DeRoug when Francis enters town. Francis declines, but Kirby will follow anyways. Is Kirby to eager too make a name for himself?

Episode

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Jason Wills and Richard Mer are exchanging pros and cons of building a radio tower. Richard is sure it would "bring in the wrong crowd".
Jason Wills: "Sure, you could make that argument. Maybe it would attract the wrong kind of attention, but it could also bring in new people... Supplies. I'm sure you know just as well as I do that last years harvest was bad. If we want to continue living in this place, we'll have to start trading."
Richard Mer: "Yes, yes. I know, but it's such a large gamble. And that's if we even get it working. What if we waste all that time, and all those resources for a pile of junk? Do you know anything about radio towers? I don't!"
Jason Wills is lost in thought for a moment. He had not anticipated this, he had been counting on Richard knowing how to make the tower. How to get it working correctly. But yes, it was a gamble. If they didn't find a solution to the resource problem soon, people would leave. It wasn't safe to leave, people could get hurt, or worse, die in the wastes.
Jason Wills: "We'll find a way, we have to. If we don't, people could die."
Richard Mer: "I know that, people could die if we don't do something. But I have no idea how to make or work a radio tower."
Jason Wills sighs, not in frustration, but something close.
Jason Wills: "Then we find out how. Someone has to know how."

Kirby Vipond waited outside the trading post, an old grocery store from before everything went wrong. He leaned against the old stonework, waiting for the stranger to exit. He couldn't hear the conversation, the haggle, as goods and no doubt muttered curses exchanged. But he knew it would be just about over, and that's when he would ask the stranger the question. And now there was the light thudding of boots as the stranger exited the building.
Francis DeRoug: "Kid, I don't know what you want, but you best keep your distance."
Kirby Vipond: "What? No, I'm not gonna try to sell you anything. I was just lookin to ask a question."
Francis DeRoug, annoyed but not angry, let the kid continue. He had time to kill anyway. Too late in the day to safely scavenge, besides, he had responsibilities.
Kirby Vipond: "Do you ever need... Help, out there? And extra pair of hands, or some fresh eyes to watch your back?"
Francis DeRoug: "Listen kid, and I mean only a little offense here, fresh eyes are not good for my particular line of work. As for an extra pair of hands, no. I already have two."
Even though he had just said no to the kids offer, Francis DeRoug knew he would be followed. He could see it in the kids eyes. That determination that, if given the right tool, could start wars.

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The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic Story! 2

Characters

Spoiler: Highlight to view
*Casey Roberts
*Luis Roberts
*Jason Wills
*Francis DeRoug
*Richard Mer
*Niles Corwin

Preview

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Casey and Luis Roberts are in an argument. Casey tries explaining to Luis that his current friend- Thomas Leis -is nothing but a petty criminal. A street urchin. Francis sells a very special item- a radio -to Jason and Richard. Luis meets Niles Corwin, they quickly become friends.

Episode

Spoiler: Highlight to view
Upon returning home, Luis Roberts is met by his brother, Casey, waiting for him at the door.
Casey: "You were out with that Thomas Leis, weren't you?"
Luis: "Yeah, is that so much of a problem? It's not like we're doing drugs, or stealing."
Casey: "Maybe you aren't doing those together, but Thomas is. He's a lowlife, just like his parents."
Luis: "He barely has parents, doesn't even live with them."
Casey: "Yeah, but he acts like them. Where do you think he gets all that stuff anyways?"
Luis: "Maybe you should go ask him instead of assuming he's a criminal."
Casey: "I don't have to, I already know. I don't want you around him, okay?"
Luis: "Around him? We live in the same town! That's like asking me to stop eating."
Casey: "No, it's not, because you can avoid him. You don't have to stay in the same area as him."
Luis doesn't respond. He doesn't want to admit to Casey that Casey is right, that Thomas could be some petty criminal.
Luis: "Fine, I'll stop hanging around him. But this in no way makes you right."
Casey: "Just stay away from him."

They sat at a booth inside an old diner. The diner was what amounted to a general store, but it served as a diner as it had long ago. Perhaps it wasn’t as nice as it had been then, but it beat eating out in the open. The booths also made great meeting places, most people tended to mind their own business, but there would be gossip. ‘Oh yes, that wastrel fellow. The one who just came to town. So and so saw him with those men that have that little communication project’, they would no doubt say. However, that was of little note.
Richard: “You’re sure it works?”
Francis: “I found it in the middle of nowhere, but do you want it or not?”
Richard: “If it doesn’t work, then no. Jason, we’re wasting our time here,”
Jason: “We’ll take it, how much?”
Richard: “What? If this doesn’t work, I mean, we only have one shot at this. Two tops,”
Jason: “This is the only one I’ve seen, and if you suddenly decide you know how to build a radio, then by all mean walk away from this,”
Richard didn’t leave. He didn’t look comfortable in this situation, but yes, he saw the point. Maybe they had few chances, but how long between those chances. Could it be just a day? A month? How many years of famine or drought would they have to live through before the next chance came to purchase a device like this.
Francis: “I need food, but you already told me why you need the radio. So how about we make a deal? It’s getting colder, close to December now, right? Well, I need a place to stay, I also need my gear to be in good shape for when I leave,”
Jason: “The repairing we can do, but I don’t know about any housing,”
Francis sighed, it wasn’t the best offer, but it was close enough. He’d be staying in town regardless, on account of the weather, and his gear was in desperate need of repair. His boots were falling apart, and his knife was chipped and would need to be replaced entirely. And this wasn’t even scratching the surface. He had a kid with him.
Jaso: “Alright, you can have the radio,”

It was a cold November night, coldest that Luis had ever witnessed up to that point. It seemed odd to think at the time, but that December would be oddly warm. Early winter and early spring. But that’s later, much later. His breath hung in the air, a whirl of fog in front of his eyes. Maybe it really was time to move away from this place, looking at it from the right angle let you see all the flaws. The homes were all from an older time, a time not too forgotten, but long enough ago for the last remnants to be in their later years. All that time was incubation for decay and deformation. Entire walls had been replaced by mud and clay brick, roofs had hay and moss in attempt to stop the rain and snow from getting in. Luis had heard of gran places where people still knew how to build, how to reconstruct from decay. But he had heard such places were far away, in the East. But in the East was the coast, not the salt coast, although that lay in the East, it was much further than the stories he had heard. This was the fresh coast, where you could dip a pot into the water and drink. He often wondered if such places really existed though, and so he sought knowledge. He had hoped of finding it through Thomas, on a map, but Casey was right. That’s when he saw the kid, the one with the traveling merchant.
Luis: “Hey! Hey!”
The child, though now he appeared to be a young man, didn’t turn to respond. Luis walked closer. Once close, he tugged the sleeve of the young man’s coat.
Niles Corwin: “Oh, uh. Hey. You need something?”
Luis: “I just have some questions,”
Niles Corwin: “Okay, shoot I guess,”
Luis: “Shoot?”
Niles Corwin: “Like with a gun, you’ve never seen a gun, have you?”
Luis waved this away, it wasn’t important.
Luis: “First, what’s your name. Second, how far East have you been?”
Niles Corwin: “Niles Corwin, and why do you want to know that?”
Luis: “Well,”
Niles Corwin: “Are you one of those fools who thinks there’s some kind of salvation to the East? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no. The East is as bad as here,”
Luis: “Then why are there stories? Surely there’s something to the East better than this,”
Niles Corwin: “Maybe, but probably not,” Niles smiled, “But probably not,”
They talked for a while, until Francis came out and got Niles.

Episode 3 preview!

Spoiler: Highlight to view
As Jason and Richard start the construction of the radio tower, Casey does an investigation of Niles thru Francis. Luis learns the disturbing facts about the wasteland, but will not give up his hopes that some people and places are still good. Thomas and Kirby bump into each other, bringing up old ties.

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The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic Story! 3

Characters

Spoiler: Highlight to view
*Casey Roberts
*Luis Roberts
*Jason Wills
*Francis DeRoug
*Richard Mer
*Niles Corwin

Preview

Spoiler: Highlight to view
As Jason and Richard start the construction of the radio tower, Casey does an investigation of Niles thru Francis. Luis learns the disturbing facts about the wasteland, but will not give up his hopes that some people and places are still good.

Episode

Spoiler: Highlight to view
It was not two days later when Jason pulled open the door to an old hardware store. The door nearly fell off of its hinges, staying on just barely. It would have to be repaired soon, just like the rest of the store. It had been looted, then abandoned. Jason must have been the only man to set foot in that derelict for almost a decade. The dust had accumulated, allowing Jason to leave a clear path through the store.
Jason: “It needs some work, but I think this is the right spot,”
Richard: “Only a little work?”
Jason: “Not a lot of work, the walls are still standing, aren’t they?”
Richard: “Yeah, well, we could start by clearing this dust,”
And so they swept and cleaned for hours, and while the door still hung on it’s hinges you could at least walk around without sending a plume of dust into the air.

Rays of light could only just barely penetrate the curtain of what Francis was now calling his home. Only he never outright said that, no. Never. Francis was always on the move, but that was a thought always on his mind. He had a kid, he knew first hand that this kind of behavior- the constant moving -was bad for him, for both of them. But the world is a dangerous place, if you stop too long you can’t ever tell what might happen. Sometimes you see the people around you become ill, sometimes it’s not illness that gets them. But this place seemed good enough… But don’t they all at first? Take the kid in front of Francis, for instance. Sure, maybe he was really just worried about his brother, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he didn’t have a brother at all. That was unlikely though, Francis had seen the other kid with his own eyes.
Casey: “So you and your boy came from the East?”
Francis: “Yeah, the East is bad right now, had to get away,”
Casey gestured to the room opposite of the one they were in, which was an old living room. It was connected to the kitchen, Casey was gesturing to one of the two bedrooms.
Casey: “Where’s his mother?”
Francis: “You go around poking into other people’s business? Because I’d rather not tell you,”
Casey: “So he ain’t got a mother then?”
Francis: “No, he doesn’t,”
Casey: “Alright, and you’re okay with him being around my little brother?”
Francis: “I see no harm,”
It wasn’t a lie. Francis really didn’t think they could get into much trouble around here, and if things did turn South… Well, it was still a smaller town.

Niles was lying on what was presumably his bed. It was badly made, but when you live on the road, making your bed isn’t a priority. Honestly, it still wasn’t. He was reading a book, something from the old world, badly torn and burnt in some spots. He marveled at it. It was a work of genius, yet you could see the marks of use. A stain here, a rip there. Had the people of the old world really no regard for these? Not that it mattered, or that he would ever likely find out. That was the past, and the past ate itself from within, and used up all its oxygen like a fire. And again, like a fire, it left little behind. Nothing but charred ruins and ruined cultures. This book had no cover, but Niles knew what it was called, knew the author, too. Hearts in Atlantis, though Niles didn’t know the significance of Vietnam, or what Atlantis was- maybe some place to the East, but the East was bad. Nothing in the East.
There came a tap from his window, light but audible.
A muffled voice asked, “Niles?”
Niles went to the window, peering out into the lazily drifting day.
Luis: “Niles?”
Niles looked over at Luis. Casey, Luis’ brother, was meeting with his father. He didn’t care to know the details of that conversation.
Niles: “Yeah?”
Luis: “You know what they’re talking about?”
Niles: “No, don’t much care, either,”
Luis: “You should, it might be important,”
Niles: “If it’s news from the East, I already know it,”
Luis: “Not that kind of important, I’m pretty sure they’re talking about you,”
Niles: “And why would they be doing that?”
Luis: “My brother doesn’t trust you, I think,”
Niles: “Well shoot, I was hoping to make a good first impression,”
Luis looked confused.
Luis: “There you go again with ‘shoot’, what does it even mean?”
Niles still didn’t care to explain this, but he did anyways. It was better than letting Luis be confused half the time they spoke. “Like with a gun, or anything that launches something. Like what some people do. In this case, though, it’s just an expression,”
Luis: “What kind of expression?”
Niles: “It means something along the lines of ‘darn, isn’t this just a pickle’,”
Luis: “Alright,”
Niles: “Alright,”
Niles was about to leave what Luis spoke again.
Luis: “What about when it isn’t an expression?”
Niles: “Some people kill other people by shooting them, it’s like throwing a rock really hard. Hard enough to go through the skin,”
Luis stared back blankly, then asked the question Niles hadn’t expected. He was expecting a “How do you know that?” or a “have you done that?”. Instead he got an “Okay,”.
Niles: “‘Okay’ what?”
Luis: “Some people shoot each other, okay,”
But Luis didn’t look okay. He looked shocked.

Episode 4 preview!

Spoiler: Highlight to view
About a month after the third episode, as the day loses its light, Thomas and Kirby bump into each other, bringing up old ties. Meanwhile, Luis asks Casey about the world. Jason and Richard send the first signal out with the new radio system.

Hey everyone! If you're reading this, thanks. I'd really like to make this a fully fledged story, and keeping a every-Tuesday schedule is really helping. If you want to suggest anything, though, feel free to do so. It's as much your story as it is mine- it is, after all, happening in some form of the Neo Scavenger universe. Thanks for reading!

P.S.
Sorry for cutting out a section of this episode, I couldn't find the time to do so, and it didn't really fit in this episode anyways.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic Story! 4
Characters

Spoiler: Highlight to view
*Casey Roberts
*Luis Roberts
*Jason Wills
*Richard Mer
Kirby Vipond
Thomas Leis

Preview

Spoiler: Highlight to view
About a month after the third episode, as the day loses its light, Thomas and Kirby bump into each other, bringing up old ties. Meanwhile, Luis asks Casey about the world. Jason and Richard send the first signal out with the new radio system.

Episode

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The town was barely awake at this hour. The sun was setting quickly now, and most people had or else were getting ready for the next day to come. It was cold enough for your breath to hang in the air, caught in a cloud. However, it still hadn’t gotten cold enough to snow… not anything big. Maybe a light dusting of snow, but most of what was around now was frost from dew. Two men pass each other at the cross section of the town, they exchange glances. These men know each other.
Kirby didn’t say anything to Thomas, didn’t even raise his hand in a gesture. This kind of sour nature between them had been going on for some time. Some sort of feud between his family and Thomas’. He didn’t know how it had started, but he did have reason to hate Thomas in particular.
It was Fall, just a few years ago. Kirby wasn’t little, but Thomas was still the bigger child. Even to this day Thomas was a good three or four inches taller. Thomas had a way about him that just let you know he was trouble. Most people in town refused to do business with him on account of how he was a thief. Another petty criminal, but Thomas was crazy, too. Kirby swore up and down that Thomas had tried to kill him. Maybe it was an accident.
They passed each other, not making eye contact. If they had met in the wastes, alone… Maybe something would have happened. ‘Maybe it was an accident’.

The moon cast its light glow, sending shadows to extend into the darkness. It was Luis and Casey, sitting outside. It was a cold night, by all reasoning they should have been inside. Luis looked over to Casey, his breath plumed and caught in the cold night air, a wispy cloud rising above their heads.
Luis: “Do you know what it’s like… Out there, in the waste?”
Casey: “No, I never went very far out there,”
Luis: “What’s it like, the parts you saw?”
Casey: “It’s all ruin, there’s nothing out there now,”
In his last years, their father had brought Casey out into the wastes to scavenge. All of the buildings had long since been cleaned. As far as Casey knew, or wanted to say, the world was filled with dust and ash.
Casey: “Come on, we should go in and get some sleep,”

There were two men, whom by now some called engineers; compared to the those of the old world, they were nothing, but the idea kept spreading. One was slumped over in his chair, looking at a blocky device on the table. The other, older than the first, sat with his head resting chin-in-hand.
Richard: “So when are you going to do it?”
Jason: “I was thinking now,”
Richard: “We should just get this over with,”
Jason reached over, pressing the button that would, according to Francis, send a signal to all other devices of the same kind. Or, it would do that to every device on the same channel.
Jason: “Hello? This is Jason Wills, anyone on the other end of this?”
There was the sound of static, Jason sighed.
Jason: “Guess you were right, it didn’t work,”
Richard: “That’s not what I said, Jason,”
Jason was going to speak, but he was cut off. That sound of static changed. It picked up just enough for them to notice. They had just enough time to look at the machine before the voice came out.
“You’re supposed to say ‘over’, so we know you’re done talking,”

Episode 5 preview

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While this episode is still to early in development to have any noteworthy preview, I will say that episode 5 is the last episode of what I'll call 'chapter 1'. Basically, episode 5 is going to be the finale. Jason and Richard are going to have a chat via radio, and things with Francis are going to start escalating the way he doesn't want them to.

Sorry for the wait on this episode!

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic Story! 5

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4:22 am
The coldest day of the month has started, It’s just cold enough for snow to collect on the ground. The sun is just starting to rise, illuminating the sky bright orange. Jason and Richard have been talking on the radio for some time. They’ve come to an agreement with the people on the other end of the line; a test trade will occur in a remote area, scrap metal for food.
Jason: “So you think you can make it there before nightfall? Over.”
“Yeah, midnight at the latest. Over.”
Jason turns the radio off, looking at Richard. There is a group of people gathered in the building. One man, a man from a neighboring building, asks Jason how much food the traders will bring.
Jason: “I’m not sure, could be a little. I’m hoping it’s enough for at least a few weeks,”
Richard: “I hope we can pay for it, they wanted scrap?”
Jason: “Just scrap, but scrounge up anything you can that might have trade value,”

5:43 am
Jason, Richard and many locals are moving scrap to the trade location. The location is a ruined suburb, a flagpole is flying a tarp to mark the location. There aren’t many vehicles in the town, so most residents are hauling scrap with sleds and carts.

9:30 am
The trading area isn’t exactly full of scrap, but by now most of the residents have joined in to help haul.

10:00 am
Jason and Richard are finally catching some rest, while Casey and his brother help to direct the flow of scrap. A lot of the residents have started barrel fires to keep warm. THe day is still very cold, and shows little sign of improving.

5:17 pm
The traders finally arrive, driving an assortment of shipping vehicles. The residents have not seen anything like this before. Francis takes one look, a look that held just long enough for him to realize the true danger of this situation. Nearby, Kirby sense the danger as he looks from Francis to the traders. Jason motions to him, then turns to Niles.
Francis: “Niles, find a place to hide, now! Stay with Kirby if you can,”
Niles looks at Francis, then runs to Kirby without question. This is beginning to feel a lot like wandering the wastes again.
Francis makes a dash for the building that Jason and Richard are in, warning people as he goes, but it’s too late. A man from the caravan has gotten out of his vehicle, and is now holding a megaphone up to his mouth. The silence is turned to panic midway through his dialog.
“Everybody CALM DOWN, get in lines to board the trucks, if you resist we WILL KILL YOU,”
Men and women start running, and the stampede soon engulfs the whole crowd. THe man speaks again, and now some people are calming down enough to see that there are men with weapons surrounding them. They’ve been encircled. There is a sudden, loud rapping sound. Several men and women in the crowd collapse, screaming. There is blood everywhere, on people, on the ground. Large red streaks on the walls, and a light mist in the air. The smell is awful, but no matter how much the people run they can’t escape it. The man speaks into his megaphone again.
“Stop resisting! Lineup, and board the trucks!”
Now some really begin to comply. More men surround the crowd, slowly pushing inwards.

5:23 pm
Francis makes it to Jason and Richard, by now the entire area is filled with screams and the sound of gunfire. It’s too late now, all they can do is get as far away as they can. He’s told them everything, and now they have to pack, now they have to run. Francis wants to stay behind, but he knows that Jason and Richard may need his help. Besides, he has to go get his gun and survival gear from his house.

11:18 pm
As Kirby and Niles make their way back to the town, the residence are stopped at a building. It’s too dark to see much, but the building is unmistakable. It’s a warehouse, fully lit. There’s a lot of noise from the inside, yelling and cheering. It sounds like there’s a hundred motors running inside, but over all that is the music. A sign on the building, in bright red lettering, reads “Zom Zom’s”, it’s a “place to eat”. The men and women are pulled and shoved out of the trucks, none of them know what horrors wait for them inside. How could they? THe man gets back on his megaphone.
“Welcome to Zom Zom’s, boys and girls, I can’t promise you’ll like it here… But I hear you’ve been having food troubles recently, and we have some mighty fine eating,”

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (not really but it's chapter 2) Upon Boredom Episodic! 6 (c2e1)

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Quite possibly the most disturbing thing at Zom Zoms was the crowd. It was always cheering, even if the combatant was a child or elderly woman. There was no remorse, no mercy for those in the cage. To the crowd, everyone was fair game; everyone was cattle to the slaughter. There was no room for ethics or morals. There was a wet crunch. The man who had been put into the arena was begging for mercy, but the machine and crowd would show none, just as they always had. The machine, a colossal contraption consisting of two parallel treds, and a pair of steel sewer hatches connected to what appeared to be pneumatic hinges, sped at frightening speed at the man. It didn’t pause as the man was caught both beneath and in front of the flat jaws. It simply swung the hatches together and kept going. The crowd roared louder.

The prisoners could hear their shouts as they huddled for warmth. There weren’t any cots, if you wanted to sleep you would do it on the ground. That said, nobody slept. How can you sleep when a child screams for mercy, some deathbot slashing violently at him.
Casey and Thomas, trapped, must find a way out of this place.
All to suddenly, a man entered the room. A chain link fence was the only thing separating him from the prisoners. If anyone had a weapon, they no doubts would lash out at the man. He was wearing simple coveralls, torn slightly at the bottom. They looked well kept, with only a few obvious stains. Those stains could have come from anything, and it was probably best not to consider the options. He looked around the room, turned to another man who had entered the room after him, and spoke something inaudible to the man.
“Alright,” he turned back to the prisoners, “We’re gonna have some fun,”. He took a long look at the prisoners, then raised a hand. “Those two,”
The man who had entered after him took a step forward, into the light where he was more visible. He was wearing protective padding, and held a cattle prod in his right hand. Before he could get to the gate, the first man spoke again. “That one, too. Let’s put on a show to keep ‘em coming.”. The man proceeded to the gate, fiddling with some keys before finally getting the gate open. The prisoners huddled closer, trying to protect the selected, but the cattle prod made short work of any rebellious spirit. The three selected were forced out of the little gated area, then presumably escorted to the arena.
“If you’re lucky, your meals will be here shortly. If at all. We do have a large crowd today,” Said the man in coveralls.
An older man at the back of the crowd spoke up in protest, “I have no desire to eat my fellow man, let alone my companions and friends,”
There were murmurs from the crowd, some supportive, some were desperate please for the man to not act out, lest they all get punished. The man in coveralls didn’t seem to mind, though.
“When you get hungry, you’ll eat. And you look pretty hungry,” with that, he left, letting the prisoners to stew in the dark.

I'm going to start doing this over the weekend. While it means I have less time to prepare for what will hopefully be a more beefy episode 2, it also means I can stay up later revising. As it is now, I've been doing a little bit here and there, and little things keep getting past me. And honestly, I do some better work later at night. Also, just an update on me, I got sick over the holidays. I finally got better (yay!), but fell out of bed this morning due to what I can only assume was momentary vertigo. Have a nice read and night everyone!

P.S.
Anyone got any ideas for Zom Zom murder bots?

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (not really) Upon Boredom Episodic! Chapter/Season 2! 7 (c2e2)

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Francis grabbed his gun. It was an old .357, salvaged from a suitcase on a bus when Francis was just barely twenty. That was before Niles. Well before. He knew that he had both all the time in the world, and no time at all to prepare. He knew where those trucks were headed, he knew that it would only take a day at most of travel to get there. And he knew that when they did get there, it wasn’t going to be pretty. One too many times was the amount Francis had seen the inside of Zom Zoms, and the machines that lived there. He didn’t like it there, no. That’s why he left, going West in search of a place more hospitable. And when he found Niles, he knew that he really must keep moving, ever Westward. Without a second glance at the room he had just so soon decided was his, he grabbed his pack and left.
Jason and Richard were waiting outside. Richard, pacing back and forth and muttering something. Questioning if the whole incident had been their fault. Jason sat calmly, but on the inside he was a wildfire. But Jason knew that somehow they would fix this, and they had Francis to help, of course. So when Francis got out of the building, Jason nearly sprung straight up, ready to make whatever march was necessary to find his people. But he couldn’t spring into action, instead slowly raising to his feet. Richard stopped pacing.
“Alright,” Francis started, “It looks like you two already got your things,” noting their packs.
Francis was the only one there with any good experience with traveling, so to be safe he asked “Did you pack water and a blanket?” He knew these were the only real things they would need, Zom Zoms was only a days hike from them, two days if they were unlucky. Francis figured a day and a half.
“Yeah, some food, too,” replied Jason, Richard nodded.
“Alright, let’s be on our way then,” Francis said, then continued, “Stay behind me, and if I tell you to do something, do it.”
Kirby and Niles waited for a long time. Waited for the men to leave with all the others from the town. They stayed quiet, and only after the raiders had gone far enough away for the engines to not be heard did they come out. The streets where completely empty, there was some dried blood on the ground from where shots had been sent into the crowd. They weren’t walking in that direction, thankfully. To Kirby and Niles, the best course of action was to head back to town. It wasn’t a long trip, but it was getting late... and cold.
They arrived back at town well into the night, and it was deserted. Nobody in sight, no sounds. Francis’ and Niles’ house was also empty, but looked to have been left in a hurry. Francis, it seemed, must have gotten away. But was he then out on the road, trying to find Niles? Kirby told Niles to pack up, they would have to leave soon if they hoped to catch up.

The most light heart-ed episode yet!

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (who knows) Upon Boredom Episodic! Chapter/Season 2! (c2e3)

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For three nights in a row Francis made the call that there would be no fire. So they were cold, the three of them, but their spirits never faltered. While perhaps their blankets couldn’t keep them warm, they had the thoughts of bringing back their people to comfort them. And now the time was finally upon them. Jason and Richard made spears to assist Francis if things got to hairy. Francis would enter the building as a spectator, using what little he had to trade to gain access. Jason and Richard would wait outside. But it wasn’t until midday on the fourth day, well past the arrival time Francis had planned, that they would see the building. That grand structure of a long past time, kept in good shape by a band of slavers and savages. The noise, though, booming out of the building, could only bend to that idea. Inside was the largest and longest standing party of the United States, built upon the idea of the Roman blood sports. Nothing but a modern coliseum, with fighters of both blood and wire.

There’s a different story being told inside, with Casey and Thomas planning their escape. But escape from this place was all around dangerous, as it should be. They could either fight the guards, and be gunned down exiting the labyrinth of guards and spectators, or they could win their freedom. Winning, the hardest and easiest path to freedom. They’d have to break the machine, but if what they planned could really happen they maybe be able to confront the bot together. A two versus one fight would give them all the advantage they might need.
The man in coveralls was back at the prisoner pen, but now they could enact their plan. Casey stepped forward, pushing past other men and women in the crowd. Thomas followed.
“Now what do we have..” the man began, but Casey cut him off.
“If you’re going to choose, you’re picking us,”
The man smiled, “Willing fodder, would ya look at that. You could all learn a thing or two from these boys!” he yelled at the crowd. “Come on now, get those two out of there.”
And so their plan had begun. The scales appeared to be tipped in their favor.

Kirby and Niles had a vague idea of the direction that Francis might be going. There was no way he’d let Niles get killed, and even less that he would allow his death after the fact to not be avenged. And so Niles told Kirby about a place. A place he had never seen, but had heard of. And now they had been walking for some time, two days, finally picking up the trail. Soon they would run into Francis, and hopefully any others that had escaped.
On the third night, they could see lights in the distance. A great glow in the East, and to the South they heard a rumbling. A constant sound. It could only be one thing.

I'll probably only write a random story for next week.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

Story 30
Trooper 772

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We would sleep in uniform. Under our beds we kept our rifles. The combat gear was stored in lockers opposite our beds. Mine was number 772.
On Tuesday of my second year and third month (5/8/2170), I was to keep watch on the bridge. When my shift was over, I went directly to my bed. Or rather, I scanned my card at the scanner when my shift was over, then waited for my replacement to arrive. After that, I walked down the hall, just about 22 or 23 meters, then scanned my card again. This time, the scanner gave a short, low, bark of a buzz. The door bolts slid up, and I was allowed to open the door. I pressed my right thumb onto the second scanner pad, which opened the door. This may seem like a lot of security measures, but no one can be too careful. Not on any type of Vanguard ship. When you're the first to arrive in a conflict, it helps to have additional security. However, I will admit that even some of the most veteran among us, those who had served over a decade, had seen minimal battle. Between the end of the civil wars and the overall relaxation of the galactic community, funds for the fleet were dropping. There simply wasn't any reason to have such a large fleet, or really any fleet at all. The lack of action also meant that there was very little experience among vessels. It was an ironic situation to find ones self in. To be in the Vanguard, that sparked the imagination to see adventure, to see the firing of laser barrages and tactical warheads. But there was none of that. None, for more than a decade. The galaxy was getting quieter and quieter.
I put my combat gear away, stored my rifle. I lay down in bed, then allow myself to fall directly to sleep as I had many times before. So much more pleasant and amazing was my job in my dreams. A thing of grand adventure.

New adventure for maybe 5 or 6 parts. This will likely be spaced out a fair deal, between any posts of the Episodic. I just wanted to go for something different this week.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)

The Official (?) Upon Boredom Episodic! Chapter/Season 2! (c2e4)

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The great metallic beast was already in the arena. It was made of sheets of metal, and had no discernible weapons. It was a prism of sorts, shaped like a tent. As Casey and Thomas stepped into the arena, the machine did not hesitate, it went left towards Thomas. The fight was nearly over in an instant as the metal tent passed within just feet of Thomas, long poles not jutting out of the face like jousting lances. It spun a turn, wheeling in a great circle, then made a second charge. This time it was Casey the bot was after. For all it's speed, it didn't seem to turn very well. Casey easily avoided the collision by stepping to the side. Though he didn't know the word, Casey thought of images he'd seen of matadors, the bullfighters of Spain. Now that metal bull was making its way towards them. Thomas and Casey went opposite directions, and the machine followed Casey as best it could. It slammed into a pillar, leaving a dent in it's slanted armor. The lances we vibrating, stopped only by the machine as it pulled the three prongs back in. Next in it's arsenal was something like a bola. Two balls connected by a chain flew from the machine, one of the balls hit Thomas his left arm. There was a popping sound. Casey thought that maybe Thomas's arm had been dislocated, but there was no time to figure out as the machine popped out it's lances and made another dash across the room. It was going for the injured target, but made no effort to line up a decent ram. There was blood, but only a little. Thomas screamed, reaching towards his left side, finding both wounds. The machine was still spiraling from the last charge as Casey rand towards Thomas. He had just enough time to push Thomas out of the way before the machine did another pass. Thomas was lying on the ground, clutching his arm. The machine, Casey noted, was going straight at a wall again. It hit the wall head on, embedding one spear in the wall, and bending another to an almost thirty degree angle. Casey saw his opportunity, running to the back of the bot as it failed to dislodge itself. He reached out a hand for the bent spear, finding that it had connected with the wall with enough force to break some connection within the machine. He forced it out of the machine, feeling the blood rush throughout his body. It finally came loose as Casey thought he must begin fainting. He caught himself on the machine as he began a tumble. He was exhausted, but he was the only chance he and Thomas had of making it out alive. There was a seem between the two metal sheets, and Casey knew what he was going to do with the spear. Ramming the still sharp tip into the seem, Casey used the spear like a crowbar. The sheet gave way a little, and Casey could see inside. A tangled mess of wires and cylinders inside, the electrical organs of the metal bull. Casey forced it further, enlarging the gap, then stepped back, his hands falling to his knees. His exhaustion had made his vision blurry, and he could now feel the sweat all over his body. He felt drenched, but that wasn't his worse problem now. Thomas was still screaming in pain, a fetal mass on the floor. The machine slid away from the wall, turning in a slow, noisy arc. Casey looked up from the ground long enough to see the bot aiming, not at Casey but Thomas. Still it aimed for the soft target as Casey gathered what remained of his strength, charging at the machine. He screamed, but not as Thomas had, and the world felt silent except for his battle cry. He swung the bent spear from over his shoulder, and it's point connected with one of the cylinders. Casey was blinded by a sudden bolt of lightning that surged throughout the machines intestines. Sparks flew, and the crowd cheered. Casey was pushed back by some invisible force from within the machine, and he soon realized that he couldn't feel his hand. It tingled, then burned. He screamed again, but now as Thomas was. But Thomas wasn't screaming anymore, only supplying a faint whimper. A hand went down above Casey, trying to help him up, but Casey felt as if he couldn't move. Nonetheless, he was brought to his feet, as was Thomas, clutching his arm. The crowd was still cheering as Thomas and Casey we lead out of the arena, and into a room full of lockers. Thomas looked much worse than Casey, his left side was completely red from blood which had, at this point, clotted and stopped flowing from his wound. His arm had been popped back into place. This was the only treatment they were given before being thrust outside. The smell of the outside air would have been so refreshing, Casey thought, if it wasn't being filled with the stink of that horrible arena. And worse still, Casey had begun his trip into a state of rest. Casey could barely keep his eyes open, Thomas leading his as best he could into the nearby forest. Soon he heard more voices, but the words were something he couldn't understand. They were completely foreign to him as his vision faded, and soon he could no longer hear them. The world around him went black, but only for a moment. His eyes burst open when the sun went directly overhead, flashing his eyes. His hand was numb, but he managed to bring it to his face. It smelled something like overcooked pork, and Casey lowered it to his side. A sudden bolt of pain told him it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be.

Rar! Rar rar rar! Thanks for reading :)