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Pyrok Driftlin's blog

 

Homesick

 
 
 
It was a dark, dark night on a dark, dark road.
At the end of that dark, dark road was a dark, dark house.
In that dark, dark house were dark, dark stairs.
Up those dark, dark stairs was a dark, dark door.
Past that dark, dark door was a dark, dark room.
In that dark, dark room was a dark, dark fridge.
In the dark, dark fridge was a dark, dark container.
 

Bunker Fever

 

It's been... I don't know how long it's been since my last entries.

Months at least.

Days At A Time

 

I decided to set up home on the roof of the library.  Rains a fair amount here, I think I could use that to my advantage somehow. Roof became the best option when I spent a sleepless night worrying something was going to come through the windows. I don’t know what’s out here, could be human, could be something else. Could be nothing. Nothing is just as terrifying really, if no one’s inhabiting this town – there’s a damned good reason for it.

I just don’t know it.

Stuck Outside - One

 

Things to be thankful for:

Sturdy walls

My steadily returning technical aptitude

The hobby store down the road

A relatively undisturbed library

 

Arguing with Myself (Zombies Ate My Neighbors)



"Hey. Wake up. You've got shit to do."

Sleep, Interrupted (Zombies Ate My Neighbours)



Pyrok's Journal


Sleep has avoided me again, and I mean actual sleep, not this half coma I go into when I try to sleep. I've been tired enough to see things that I know aren't there, but seeing Croft in the rear view mirror was a new one. No idea where he is, or what's happened to him, but to see him in a exhausted 'vision' was new. The voices have stopped at least. Probably wasn't anything, or anyone, just my brain hearing something remotely similar to my name.

Tired Voices (Zombies Ate My Neighbours)


Trader's Flat


Pyrok snapped his head up from where he rested it on the bar counter. He was sure he heard it this time, someone calling his name. He scanned the bar, narrowing his eyes as he looked. He couldn't place the voice, where it was or even who was calling him. It was the sixth time that day he'd heard someone calling to him.
It was the tone that bothered him, an urgent whisper, like someone trying to quietly wake him up. It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen when he was out alone either.

A Most Unusual Withdrawal - Final



Jason woke up stumbling out of a cloner. It took him a few moments to process what had happened, but the result was blatantly obvious.
...Completely forgot about the other two. Too focused on the male.
He rushed out of the bunker, and into the sunlit pond market area. The people milling about were largely unaware of the crime being commited
only half a block away from them, or if they were, they steered well clear.
Gotta hand it to the Union, they know how to contain a problem. That's if anyone cares.

A Most Unusual Withdrawal - Two



The man pushed the teller towards the huddled mass of her fellow employees and turned back to affix a cutting wheel to a portable grinder.
'You know, you never told me where you found those tools.' the woman said, looking down at him.
'Oh... you know. Around. Sometimes they pop up on the auction lists. This though? I made it back when we were legitimate business people.'
'You never used it before.'
'You never saw me use it.' he chuckled, giving the tool a few test spins.
'Oh goddammit will you stop it with that?'

A Most Unusual Withdrawal - One


New Flagstaff National Bank


It was a dull day at the bank, just lines and lines of account holders depositing their chips, paying Banker fees, and withdrawing more than they needed. There was a sign at the entrance, that asked all visitors to remove their masks, but after a string of angry clones taking violent exception to having to remove their headgear, the sign was bluntly ignored.

You Can Always Go Home Again


Last Stop Garage.

Fire Suppression

Rating:


Sometimes the things you see cannot be ignored, words heard cannot be unsaid, nor actions taken adequetely justified. You can only souppress the rage for so long, you know when the dam is about to break when your chest gets tight and hot, your sudden silence is deafening. The ones closest to you know this is the time to leave, or prepare to be part of the immenient explosion.

Man From the Wastes



Pyrok sat on the roof of his car, he was 'working', it was the excuse he came up with for being away from home for long periods. Truth was there was no Earthship project somewhere in Epsilon, no Vista project

Edge of Reality

Keywords:


I ran my hands through short brown hair, my fingers leaving sections of it sticking up in some places. The Mind's Eye Tavern, a mental construct I created to get some 'one on one' time with my other selves. Sometimes it was full of characters, humming with stories, victories and defeats. But today, I cleared it out. Everyone but two people were sent home at 'closing time'. This was a conversation I had wrestled with for some time, part of the reason for putting off this discussion was simply because I never thought I'd see the day I'd be shutting this tavern down.

A Tavern of the Mind - Part One

Keywords:


There's a tavern in the middle of Nowhere called 'Mind's Eye', it has a regular crop of patrons, and occasionally a new one comes through the curtains that serve as the door.

Driftlin's Log - Asshole Scavenger


Pyrok sat on a bench with his elbows propped up on the table, staring at the clouds as they rolled by. His hand was on the front of his jacket, which held the letter from Hyle. Going to Kaibab with Sorja. Can't settle. Never around. Shark's a good friend, but he's not you.
He stared down at the letter for the tenth time, trying to dredge up some idea of what he should do. He was stuck on a odd phrase he heard some time ago: 'If you really love someone, let them go.'

What do we say to the God of Death?



I don't want to pile on to the recent posts. No, I'm not quitting, don't... get back here, I'm not quitting. Sit. Stay. Good, have a cookie.
I'm trying not to flog a dead horse here but, I think it'd do the community some good to get into one - and this is the key bit here-  CENTRALIZED

Stuck


Can't sleep. Still too wired, Hyle wore herself out.
Pyrok shifted on the couch, idly wondering for the hundredth time if he should try and move Hyle to her bed.
Don't even know where it'd be. Don't wanna put her in the wrong bed, not that I'd get blamed for it just... Maybe I should wait for Tuki to get home, and see if she can help me get her mom in bed. Wow... that... sounds really bad. Maybe I'll just stay put.

Driftlin's Log - Home Sweet Container



Seems pretty abandoned to me, and I've seen my fair share of ruins.

Keep Circling Back



Sky.
     Dirt.
  Sky.
Dirt.
Dirt. Dark dirt.


A rock. That's what sent him tumbling down the side of the hill, he rolled his ankle on a rock. But that wasn't the start of his 'Bad Day'. The irony of falling down a hill in an area known as 'Deadfall' wasn't escaping the detached voice in the back of Pyrok's head as he rolled head first down the side of a hill. He'd been distracted, looking up at a radio tower, idly wondering if it worked, if it picked up the Spider Hill station or not.

Bad Dreams



The Dummies closed in on him, and the only defence Pyrok's mind could come up with as he covered his head with his arms was:
Wake up. Wake up.
'Huh?'

Events in the Past - 'Sawtooth Grin'

Rating:




Somewhere in Union Plains, several months earlier
Standing over a hole, six feet deep.

Guess this needs to get done, I keep circling back to it. Moreso when the names come up in conversation, or someone says something that makes me remember them all.
"Stop wiggling, you're only making this harder for you."

The Foul Miscreant, Nylan Bredh
The Troubled Psycho, Miss Brown

"Send in the Clones"

Keywords:





Prairie chickens, ugly as hell, but the meat is good with Thurber's sauce. Then again, just about anything is good with Thurber's.

Living out of a Trunk


Two footlockers. Stowed in the frame of the buggy. That's pretty much all I have, aside from Banker held vaults.
Spare supplies, couple more batteries for the buggy, a solar charger to stretch the batteries out a little more.
Dried food, raw perishables wrapped in a small chillbox...

'... Are Doomed to Repeat It'

Rating:


Pyrok sat at a table in Credit Bend's bunker bar, his vacant stare belying the tornado of thoughts and arguements in his head. A small pile of chips - his sum total wealth - sat on the table, four red chips seperated from the whites, blues and other reds. They were flanked by his steel helmet, and a pistol. Pyrok sat, playing out the scene over and over again in his head, hoping this time he'd done enough - this time, he hadn't botched it badly.

--------------------------------------

"Pinkish and Vibrating"

Needed: Materials and Information

Pitchblende, Deadfall

Driftlin's Log - Update Information

Rating:



 A flick of the wrist

A twist of the knife

Driftlin's Log - Hygenics

Some time ago (i kept forgetting i have lye facilites at Pyrok's home)


Mental Ping Pong

(Going to attempt a new stream of thought kind of thing, basically this is what Pyrok is usually contemplating while doing... whatever it is he does when no one is looking.)

Few days back... Devil's Own Camp, somewhere in Union Plains

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by Dr. Radut