NationStates Jolt Archive

yeah, you're pretty. . .

you're cute too <333

That boy blushed, even. As he continued his five hour going on six hour triste with this hard core girl from across the district into the hours of the early morning, the batteries running low on his digital camera and the clothing too small for his little sister dampened by sweat stains, never once did the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, there might be something more to life than having clicked his way into this girl's heart. And as that girl from across the district shuffled through her bag looking for makeup, quickly, as her batteries were running low too and she just must upload some new pictures, never once did it cross her mind that there might be something more to life than click click clicking around with this boy. And as they uploaded a final round of pictures containing severe lighting and angles from up above, never once did either of them think of what might be going on outside.

----

"This is not the time to start harbouring emotions, you know. In fact, this could possibly be the single worst moment to do so, so if you don't mind, shut the fuck up, and get back to work."

"You don't understand! Do you realize how many people are going to fucking die because of this? Because of your sick little sociological experiment? DO YOU REALIZE THAT YOU FUCKER?"

"I swear, Nano, if you don't fucking kill this line immediately I'll have you shipped away with the rest of those ingrates."

"You've gone too far! Way too far Kisa!"

"Expect a deportation order, you're gone."

And that conductor of that ethereal web shattered that catalyst, on the eve of shattering perhaps that entire web. And that bile slowly crept from that broken vessel, slowly ilking its way through its own web, slowly blackening any who come into contact with it.

----

yeah it's really me!

haha.. qt..

Flash flash. Bang bang. As this boy runs back from the bathroom, with a small nearly disposable digital camera and and shirt flung over his shoulder, the boy on the other end of that connection finished shopping his own pictures and started uploading them. One of them was destined for default. And as he went click click clicking away, oblivious to the sirens in the street and the banging next door, and as the other boy went click click clicking away, oblivious to the whirrrs over his home and the grumble out in the street, that viscous muck of life started to harden around their ankles.

----

And those people, those dusty people in dusty uniform, those people did conspire with one another, in dusty cars in dusty lanes, in dusty light with dusty words. Of things to be which shouldn't, of things that will but couldn't. And so they whispered in dusty whispers fo dusty things to be dusted over. From the sky would fall ashes- they said in billows of dust, erupting from cracked and dusty lips and cracked and dusty throats. . . From the sky will fall ashes.

----

no srsly11

lol, ilu

Water boiling over a burner a few feet away, and hair dye sitting right next to the pot. Intentions are obvious. And as she continues to pour her heart out to this stranger on the other side of that magnificent screen, that water sits idle, as it has been since it first started boiling. And on that other side, that man with a wife and a child and a career thought up some more interesting concoctions to trap this child with, musings of love and transcending materialistic things, with words far beyond her comprehension. And as both of them lost themselves in a fantasy so fantastic, they remained oblivious to the flickering lights. Only when the phone rang, and the girl jumped, and the girl crashed into the burner next to the phone, and a crash from the upstairs apartment prompted the man to look upwards- Did at least one of them notice. Yet this was soon overshadowed by shouting from upstairs, and his interest in that. Something to report to his lover so far away.

And that sun was risen, yet it was unseen. Nothing to see through all this dust.

Orange is the color of nothing, evidently.

And as rapturous winds pound against decrepit walls and windows, those within lay sleeping. Screens alight and towers buzzing, yet people sleeping, exhausted from that tireless emotional gauntlet. Oh, that horrible race! That tortuous excursion! Oh, pity them! That horrible breed, that they must suffer so much! They take the world on their shoulder! Pity them! Pity!

Such fucking pity.

And then as this girl, this girl with this blonde hair, and this black hair, and this short hair and this long hair, all this hair upon her head, so many different things, this girl, as she awakes, ever so slightly, and peers up to he screen and jostles her mouse, and clicks that bookmark to that wonderful fantasy, her life-time dream is interrupted.

Forbidden

----

Bang bang. As that dilapidated door fell in to the might of that dust, she screamed. They charged into her room, weapons poised at that girl, a torrent of that dust exploding into the room with them. In seconds that room was torn apart, that girl dragged away kicking and screaming, her parents torn from another room, everything erupting into a brilliant orange. And one of them stepped up to that screen, only that one word scrawled across it, and took that and smashed that, releasing a wave of lead into that buzzing tower.

Flash flash. And downstairs, a family huddled together, fearful of the shouting through the walls and the eruptions above. And that father and mother shielding their only child, a young child, no more than four, that father so grim. And in the hall, flashes, and their door fell in, and then that family was torn apart as well, and that father was dragged from his home, and that mother was clutching to her child as they tried to pry them apart. And at last that home was empty. And a spectacular orange.

Forbidden

Those pallid creatures set before their altars did weep and moan and pray, click click click click click. And still they remained oblivious to life and what fell down around their ears. With another flash another was abducted, another bang and another disappeared. Flash flash. Bang bang. And all around them things were falling away into dust, and they remained dumb, and blunt, and click click click click click. So shocked were they by the collapse of that digital world that they couldn't appreciate the collapse of that real world. All they could do was click click click click click click click click click click.

----

On the other side of that pseudo reality, where people breathe and think and see thing for what they are, where people have exploited this gift and the misfortune of the others, where people have risen to such power that they could exert their own will upon countless lives with no opposition, on this side of that pseudo reality, in reality, these people smiled and laughed, they smiled and laughed, with each other, over drinks. For this was only a game, after all, and they were so close to winning. Just have to keep running, is all. Just keep running and they will win eventually.

And over that other evil they would appear, that evil which thinks for you.

And on that dreary Friday night, (with rain and smog and and coke, with black and white and pink), that brimstone storm continued. Yet now some awoke, far too late to take action.

"I don't know what happened. Like, I went over to Andrew's place and it was wrecked. Like, and the other day at Helena's, she lives a floor below, the other day we heard lots of like banging and thought there was like an explosion, so my parents rushed down and I followed but, like, when we got downstairs. . . Whatever."

And those subversive agents did drop from the moon's neon light.

"Tiffany?"

"Yeah?"

Flash. Bang.

----

"Tiffany H.M., you hereby relinquish all human rights. . ."

Lights. Camera. Action.

"For the past week, many of you may have noticed rather peculiar things happening. People disappearing, homes torn apart, FodNetwork shutting down for most of the week. . . Problems in the electrical grid. . . Peculiar things. Yes. . ." Sacha glanced down to a bundle of illegible, blackened papers, and ran a finger along the edge of those charred manifests, smiling sadly to himself, before looking back into the eye of those people. "I would like to assure you all that nothing out of the ordinary is taking place. Most of these disturbances have been taking place in the inner city, or in remote farmland. . . And I promise that such things will never reach the pristine gates of suburbia, or the financial district, or the parks or the schools. I promise that the ordinary person will never be affected by such things. . . And with that, I would like to tell you why you're all in danger." Pause. "The administration has identified a radicalist organisation. . ."

And the rest sort of just, faded out, into a monotonous drone, feeding the people what they need to hear, sedating the people, lying to the people. It just sort of faded out, into a continuous wind, lie after lie, biting at the ears of all those people, all those people falling helplessly in love with it. And after an hour or so of that single intricate lie swaddling all those children into a comfortable cradle, it cut out, and those people resumed their normal schedule, anxious, worried, yet satisfied.

And then something happened.

Something happened which wasn't planned.

And this is where we see things start to, well. . .

----

so u wan met up at commerce park?

yes11!

And upon that foreign land, that strange land of strange customs and stranger people, upon that land the king of all shadows did press. That king's magnificent spider's creation reached further than ever realized. And he now wanted all that he realized.

"Around the corner, then down the bend."

"Through the window, then down the hall."

"Down with the door!"

And that soft, acidic dust fell upon that foreign land in a fragile, electric cloud.

Concrete walls loomed over deserted alleys, shadows dancing with the flashes of red and blue amidst the low whispers of whispering onlookers from behind cold steel barricades. Their eyes flit between each police officer and detectives coming and going into a house that once belonged to a neighbor. Gossips washing over the hushed conversations like an April shower.

Tall with ruffled black hair, sorrow filled eyes and a poorly shaved face. A thick muscled body hidden by a silver overcoat, emblazoned the blue triad of Niiatar laden over a sphere of gold on its right side. He stepped out of an unmarked police car, rows and rows of other cars marked and unmarked separating him from the house.

"Shit. . . Why was I called out here. . . Why was anyone?" He puffed on a cigarette, throwing a nmatch to the ground. He traversed the maze of cars in his path, eye on the senior detective.

"You know why. People don't just disappear in the middle of the night, in the middle of a crowded neighborhood like this."

Cracked and broken things, dust and a solemn face. "Whatever. Just tell me who it was and what evidence we have so we can conclude this little... Whatever it is." He walked into the house, cringing at the dusty ruins of what once was a beautiful home. Bullet holes, smashed furnishings, and broken down doors. Nothing taken, nothing missing. Only the people were absent in a now depressing and decrepit place. "What the... Hell happened here? It's impossible this close to the capital. Someone would have noticed something."

"You're the damn detective, you tell me. Cameras saw nothing, the neighbors heard nothing. It's like it was done by some damned ghosts."

"Ghosts with big guns, apparently." Another said walking in, younger and with an arrogant smirk cracked across his face.

"It happening so close to the capital means we've got more leverage than we normally do, so..." The senior detective considered, rubbing two fingers along the brim of a large hat. "Ok. I want four squads working on this, round the clock for the next week. I want everyone within a five-block radius to be put under a polygraph and asked every question we can come up with. Expand to ten blocks if nothing come of that. I want full reports on these people who used to live here. Habits, pains, favorite sports, everything."

An aide rushed out, with instructions scribbled down on a data-pad rushing for his phone and rereading over what he got down. Emmanuelle Deyona watches in silent indifference as wisps of orange dust curled and furled in the gentle breeze from dusty rooms out into dusty halls running along the dusty walls out into the green yard, something believed to be nothing by the outside world, fear coalescing into a pool somewhere deep within.

Kansu sat on her SI-computer, the Unix struggled with the lacking memory and the high RAM demands of her browser vh. She typed into a foreign text-field while her friends (all female) giggled:

Heja! Nice to have you around!

"Ka~n, that is like so majuvedian! They will find out about you in no time!"
"They will only note your correct spelling! Sy, they mangle spelling like this in their own language!"
"They might be dyslexic!"
"Them all?"
"Okay, that was a weird idea!"

They giggled much while Kansu told misled several users of this site. Eventually, vh got out of memory and the pretending stopped being that much fun. They settled for going to the next Xeme instead.

"What do they know, what do any of them know. . . Just keep playing 'monster of the week' and it should all work out. They'll eat it all up. . . Radicals, as if."

"With the recent leak of this audio tape and allegations from Kay Medical accusing the Roman Union of subversive measures to control the population, various local consuls have called for adjournment of Imperial and Popular House. Jordan Lion has released information regarding the Roman Union and various Imperial officials incriminating them in the developing situation. People speaking out against administration and supporting the Kay Medical stance on the issue have started to seek asylum. We have with us now Brian Baker, Popular Speaker from Bourbon District- What?"

A few moments of whispering with an anonymous intern.

"Speaker Baker has yet to arrive, so in the mean time we'll take a quick commercial break."