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Old 03-27-2010, 04:49 PM
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Default [WIP - Story] - Just Another Day, In Black 2154.

Part 1 - The wanderer

Act 1 - The goose

"Don't"

Jaggers had dared to touch her wife's precious black box, the place where she had everything she had earned by herself; and uselessly hid from her husband, who knew perfectly where she placed it every time.

"If you take a single dollar from it I'll cut your balls off" rebuked the voice under the unwashed and tangled blond hair.
"Don't get like that, I'm just going out"
"Don't f*cking dare, motherf*cker!" and she threw away the cigarette pack to him while taking the ashtray in the other hand; preparing to do the same. "Every single cent in there is sacred to you, understood?!"

Jaggers wasn't stupid, at least not as much as he seemed, but he knew how to treat her woman in this cases. Unfortunately for him, divorce was too dear by those days; instead he had to learn how to get rid of the fat, wrinkled and selfish wh*re he was forced to live with. It was incredible that such an ugly woman could maintain her job in the sex services.

"Alright" yelled the voice at the end of the corridor. In opposition to her, he was a skinny guy that still conserved traces of his youth. He smelt, most of the times, of smoke, cigarettes, sweat, alcohol and cheap perfume; the long hours working at the factory made him a man with very bad health who spent most of his time doing simple work or, as he intended that day, having fun at the local brothels.

"You see, darling, I always loved you. Remember the day we married?" said the voice again, getting closer to the sofa in which the spare tires of the woman spread freely. "It was a nice night at Antonie's Night Church, you were laughing all the time because the priest had a big big wart on his nose" She slightly giggled "And he did, and he did"

"And remember the night at the Italian restaurant? Forno di Pietro, you took a pizza and I had spaghetti..."
"We ended up eating the spaghetti together" she interrupted with a smile, showing her yellow teeth.
"And we had the best night of all, didn't we?"
"Yes we did, we did" replied pleasant the wh*re.
"Hon, I love you" and he kissed her on her forehead.
"I love you too" she answered, smiling while she saw the walking skeleton getting out home. As the door closed, the smile on her face faded away, realizing what had happened: she moved out the sofa and found the black box completely empty.

"Bugger" she said, as a tear dropped off one of her eyes.

Jaggers never loved the wh*re he had for wife. In fact, it was strange to find someone with whom Jaggers had shared any kind of feelings; but anyway that wasn't what worried him. Times were hard enough to care about those little things; he, as the vast majority of the male population, had to work for a misery at the RDA industries; while the ladies had to offer their bodies for anything they wanted, earning the same misery.

Since that great company had the control over everything, there hadn't been any war; because they decide to whom sell arms; and like a puppeteer, they decided who attacked who, who starved and who was on the top of the world. As good puppets, the people wouldn't say a thing about it; because who would listen them? The RDA people seemed to do whatever they wanted as long as they could pay the bills, and now they've found their goose that laid golden eggs they wouldn't ever stop.

That goose was named Pandora.

Jaggers, walking to the vicious hotel, found a group of activists who were handing around papers with strange photographs on them, shouting nonsense such as "There is few green remaining on Earth, and it's worth more than all the RDA's money!" or "Protect the Na'vi! They're being wiped out of their home because the greed of a few people!". One of them, a tall, black young with wide lips, showed Jaggers the photograph of a blue woman. The being was laying on the ground; in fact, crying.

"Why the f*ck would I give a single damn for... that?"
"Because we're killing them sir. It's in your hands to say "no" to the slaught..."
"Shut the f*ck up nigg*r. It gives me enough trouble to keep me alive, don't make me care for something that you'd imagined while you were on LSD"

Rudely pushing the boy away, Jaggers kept on his way to the cathouse taking care of his feet, avoiding the ponds of urine and the dirt; while the motors of the tube train sounded, almost as loud as the music and the hubbub of the bars; while the police tried to reach two criminals on their motocycles. Thanks to the multiple levels, roads and railways were suspended in the air, a few meters above from the passerbies, by giant concrete pillars; but that also meant that everything that went off them would crash on the pedestrian level. Despite the protective walls, it wouldn't be the first time it happened.

A woman who went in the opposite direction fell over Jaggers' shoulder, and he took her off it quickly: although wearing an exopack, she hadn't been able to keep breathing anymore, later on the paramedics had found she had asma and had been having trouble with her black lungs since several weeks ago. In Jaggers' own words, it's the survival of the strongest; he had proved with his ability of being able to inhale the grey smoke of the factory and keep being alive, hence why he believed in belonging to these.

However, there were people stronger than him; something he would find out that day.

"Hey buddy, you left something behind"

As he turned, three pale, tall and wide-backed eighteens, armed with a big club each and suited in a black shirt in which it was written "Fortis super debilis" around a white claw; stared at the poor bastard with no good ideas under their shaved heads. He tried to appear calm, at least for the first five seconds before they rised their bats; when he ran like the blowing wind down the street.

"Come here f*ggot!"
"Run you son of a b*tch, run before we kill you motherf*cker!"

Jaggers might had been lighter than them, but they were quicker and could easily skip all the obstacles he tried to put them. Desperatly throwing away the trash cans and the stools from the pubs he passed in front of, the three shadows ran with ease and jumped over all of them with an incredible agility.

Undoubtedly, they were from the iron and steel industries; the hardest in which to be working at before the mining sector. It was known in the area that there have been appearing some kind of gangs in the last weeks which were joining the anti-RDA resistance, the RDA-PAW (RDA for the People And Workers); one of the many terrorist organizations which, in cold blood, could wipe out of the Earth's surface a whole city with their nukes. They were respected and feared; in the case of Jaggers, rather the second one.

Taking advantage of a near line that was being made in front of the local food market, he went inside an alley which entrance was covered by the mass of people; being such a thin person, he could get in with ease, unlike the skinheads who finally decided to stop hunting their prey. He got some air and tried to stop his heart from getting out of his chest. The rest lasted little, however; before he could even notice three dark figures appeared at the other side of the alley.

It rained pain.
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Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 08-27-2010 at 11:08 AM.
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  #2  
Old 03-29-2010, 09:39 AM
Pamtseo Vitra
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An excellent beginning to what sounds like an intriguing story, very much lookig forward to see this one progress.
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Old 03-29-2010, 03:33 PM
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Interesting. Seems to be a lot of good fanfic being started recently, keep it going
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Old 03-30-2010, 07:12 PM
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Thanks both Fkeu'itan and Human No More, I'm going to finish it by the end of the spring break (that is, if I am able to).

Do you think it's well written? I'm not a native and can easily make spelling or grammar mistakes.
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Old 03-30-2010, 08:42 PM
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Quote:
Do you think it's well written? I'm not a native and can easily make spelling or grammar mistakes.
Yes it is, very much so. I don't remember coming across any spelling or grammar issues. Plus I really like the style of writing.
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  #6  
Old 03-31-2010, 07:34 AM
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You updated it...
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[Today 11:06 PM] tallbluewanderer: logic must give way to AVATAR

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  #7  
Old 03-31-2010, 11:05 AM
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Act 2 - Dead Amazon

Once he was conscious again, he found himself in a dark apartment laid on a strange hammock; in a room where the street illumination could barely pass trough the windows' filters that tried to emulate natural light. Instead of parquet of carpets, the floor was covered with soft grass; and on the walls some creepers and vanilla bushes grew freely, except of one on which a male silhouette stared at a giant and old glass screen showing different parts of the city and pictures of an exotic place where the wild vegetation grew with no limit. The air was humid, hot and felt strange for Jaggers who had never breathed anything apart from the urban smog. As he woke up, he fell off the hammock crashing against the floor; what made the man turn.

"Well well well, did the princess have a nice sleep?"

Jaggers' back ached; and remembered him what happened before. As he stood up painfully, he looked at the black shadow and recognised his face.

"Nigg*r?"
"Nice to meet you too" replied his deep voice with a sarcastic tone "Welcome to the Lil' Ol' Amazing Amazon, best known as the Refuge" and lending him a hand to sit down on the hammock again, he added "You can call me Blue"
"Whatever nigg*r, I just want go home"

It seemed like if all the extinct plants on Earth had been brought to the place where he was now. Jaggers just saw them in old films and TV programs, he thought it was just something scriptwriters pulled out of their hats to make their sceneries look prettier; and now he had real grass and real flowers in front of him. Their scent was intense and filled the room.

"What is this?" asked shocked the man, aching all over.
"Well, since two or three decades we've been bringing all the plants and seeds we could to this place, so the block became a little jungle itself..."
"What? The whole building is like this?"
"Yup. So far we haven't got any problems with the police or the legal paperwork; although the RDA doesn't look with good eyes our stuff. They'd tried to burn down the building twice, but fortunately we've got plenty of water here."
"And why do you do it?"
"We like it the natural way, just that. Anyway this is a free country man" he replied, adding a slight "for the moment"

Blue picked a vanilla flower from the bush on the wall and handed it to Jaggers "Come on, try some."
"I'm not in that drugs sh*t"
"It's not drugs, it's just vanilla. They put substitutes of these in ice creams and cakes; you wouldn't have ever tasted a real one for sure"

Jaggers distrustfully looked at the smiling face of Blue, took the flower and following the instructions he was given he licked the stamens. As he did, a sweet taste flooded his dry mouth, which opened in sign of pleasure.

"Ha haa!" laughed Blue "Say, how is it?"
"You are f*cking mad..."
"Oh come on, don't be so stroppy"

"Is he alright Blue?" exclaimed a female voice from the door
"I think he is, hon. Did you bring the painkiller?"
"Yes, darling." A second dark and tall figure appeared, dressed in a simple top and a shorts, wearing some strange necklaces. It was Blue's girlfriend, Leda; she came to the hammock and brought Jaggers a glass with a red liquid, once she had done so she went to his boyfriend and kissed him slightly on the cheek, whispering "Don't call me hon, darling", and smiling she walked gracefully out of the room again.

"I want to get outta here nigg*r"
"You can't with those three bastards out there. Stay, have your painkiller and rest until tomorrow. May I call your wife?"
"She'll be OK" replied the skinny guy while taking the drink, which tasted sweet and hot. As he did, he suddenly fell asleep and dropped the glass to the floor.
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Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 04-02-2010 at 04:47 PM.
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  #8  
Old 04-02-2010, 04:46 PM
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Act 3 - Outsiders

Jaggers woke up, thinking all the Refuge thing was just a dream and that as he stood up we would feel the cold floor of his apartment again. However the dense and hot air proved his thoughts wrong. He was alone now, and the pain was completely gone. He wondered how many hours he had been asleep, and if the skins were still looking for him. He stood up, took his shoes and walked by the grass in search of Blue.

Before him, a dense fog covered a large corridor, one of the largest he had ever seen in his life. There were doors at each side, but nobody in their rooms, just plants and empty hammocks. He could hear voices from the upper floor, but the elevators were nowhere to be found; just two stairs in the middle of the corridor that were covered in moss and which Jaggers refused to use.

The windows were closed in every single room, but were wide enough to let some light pass slightly inside the building. Surprisingly, there were no lamps to be found there, and all the plugs seemed to had been removed except of the one used for the blue screen at Jagger's room. The filtered beams illuminated the place in a somewhat mysterious way, making a dark and upsetting atmosphere for the outsider.

Jaggers gave up on his attempt to find the end of the corridor and went back to the stairway for the second time. Upstairs, the fog was quite denser than before and he couldn't see anything a few inches away from him; but the voices were louder, what made him keep going up until he heard quick steps running down the staircase.

It was a kid of about 9 years old, when he found Jaggers he shouted scared: he didn't expect to find anyone on there.

"Who are you?" asked the kid, shaking on the floor
"I... am a friend of Blue. You know him?"

The child nodded mechanically. Jaggers offered him his dirty hand and helped him to stand up. He was half naked, just wearing a pair of red shorts because of the heat; unlike the old man who was still on outdoor clothing and sweating like a pig.

"Say, where is he?"
"He's with us, we're now having dinner at the twenty-seventh floor"
"Twenty-seventh! Where are we then?"
"On the twenty-fifth, sir"

Jaggers was in some way shocked for being called "sir"; he didn't remember receiving that kind of form of addressing from anyone. Anyway, the kid pulled him from his leather jacket's sleeve to get him out of the catatonic stage in which he appeared to be and brought him upstairs.

The place was big. Every wall had been tore down and the next floors were taken off to make the twenty-seventh floor a real jungle itself. It might had had the same extension as a little estate, there were even giant trees growing off the ground since the twenty-sixth floor was just for soil. Above it, a fake sky that changed its color as the day passed by, and a great lamp with the same filters as the ones found at the windows to imitate the old Sun, now covered by black clouds. There were four primitive chimneys at each side in which food was cooked, and the kids played on the tree branches and bushes as the adults gathered food and discussed about what to do the next day.

Jaggers could only have his mouth wide open when Blue went to the place where he stopped.

"How's Grumpy today?" asked Blue joking
"How's your face today? Because I feel it needs a fix and I'm an expert on giving face fixes"
"Hey relax man. What do you need?"

In answer to all his questions, Blue told him that he had been in the Refuge five days since he picked him up; that all his belongings were in the room he had been resting and that there was no need to pay anything since they were a charity and just helped those who needed it.

"We needn't any money, we've got our food and stuff from the harvesting floors" Blue added "Oh, and your boss called us yesterday. We told her you were ill and we convinced her to give you a week to rest"
"What?! She'll take that from my vacation time!"
"I told her we'd pay those days, so you still have all of them" and before he could ask anything, he said "Donations and selling genuine fruits make a great business, trust me"
"And you need no money?" answered Jaggers in a mocking tone
"Hey, just in case we've got an accident or anything like that"

Jaggers got out there that night, and felt again the light bulbs illumination, the cold breeze and the smog in his lungs. Sighing, he went back home with his wife to spend the two days he had been paid by the Refuge crew.
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Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 04-03-2010 at 06:59 PM.
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Old 04-03-2010, 10:11 PM
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Act 4 - The Way Home

It was dreamlike. Everything was dreamlike for him since he put his feet in the Refuge; nobody in his very own life had treated him the way he had been treated there. The smiles, the kids, the food, the hammocks,... The way home had never felt colder for him. He picked the dirty subway, with his sight lost somewhere on the train. He could still feel the warm atmosphere the people had recreated.

"Stop thinking over it Jaggers" he thought "Get a drink and forget it. Why would you ever want to get in there, with those hippies of sh*t? You've got a nice job and an easy life; don't let it go down the drain because of a nigg*r"

And so he tried to fool himself. He distorted his memory of the visit making it look completely dystopian, what made him stay busy for a while. Once he arrived his stop, he was convinced that was a place where people with incurable diseases and mental retards were interned. The plants were actually synthetic, and the food has drugs in it, what makes everything look prettier. Jaggers knew deep down it was the greatest lie he could have ever invented, but he tried to get it in his mind.

But as he arrived his apartment, the smell of cigarettes and the fat woman waiting on the sofa, in front of the large TV, made him feel homesick about the Refuge. Staring once again at nothing, he didn't notice the ashtray approaching to his head.

"Welcome honey! Did you have fun tonight?!" said the voice from within the fat rolls.

Jaggers didn't reply; instead he went to the bathroom to stop the hemorrhage on his forehead. The wh*re keep shouting out loud from her sofa, while the soap opera illuminated her angry face. She threw away the Coke light can she had in the other hand, but the man didn't seem to care. He fetched what he needed, he seemed deaf then; so the wh*re decided to stop arguing with the walls and let a painful tear run down her wrinkles.

"Linda," Jaggers finally asked from the other side of the corridor "Do you love me?"
"Oh you try to steal me again f*cker? You think I'm that stupid? You've got all my mon-"

Jaggers had put the 218 dollars and 60 cents in front of her while she was talking, holding up the dirty towel with ice on the other hand against his head.

"There is a dollar forty cents missing, I took a beer before" and turning back to go to his bedroom, he added "Sorry"

The room was for a single person, with a single bed and a single night table. The couple was completely on their own, while he worked at the industries and visited the brothels, she worked on them and spent her spare time watching one of the thousands of channels TV had by then. Weekends passed by quickly, and both Jaggers and Linda spent them separately; he was out and she stayed home. That incidentally imposed routine was losing its sense for the man that now, sadly and thoughtful, was laying on his back.

He took a look at the outside, through the window. The sun was supposedly still shining, but the clouds and the smog didn't let its beams reach the city. There was just a plain cement wall with holes that were supposed to be windows. Behind it, two kids were fighting each other, an old lady was trying to hang out her family's clothes and a man was smoking, putting his head and arms on the window, with a bitter face.

He wondered how much longer he was intended to live in that hole.

Linda, who had never seen his husband in a similar mood, had been standing against the wall, next to the door. She couldn't explain what was wrong with him: trouble with the police? No, he would have come home accompanied by an officer. Bad time at the cathouse? He wouldn't have been out there for five days. Drugs? He didn't seem high.

Eventually, she asked:

"Are you OK?"
"Yeah yeah, it's just..." he added standing up "I need some time to make up my mind"
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Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 04-10-2010 at 09:14 AM.
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Old 04-04-2010, 12:04 AM
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Nice
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Old 04-09-2010, 07:22 PM
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End of the first part.
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Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 08-27-2010 at 11:08 AM.
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  #12  
Old 07-05-2010, 05:55 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by ZenitYerkes View Post
"Why the f*ck would I give a single damn for... that?"
"Because we're killing them sir. It's in your hands to say "no" to the slaught..."
"Shut the f*ck up nigg*r. It gives me enough trouble to keep me alive, don't make me care for something that you'd imagined while you were on LSD"
Ah, the tragic paradox of modern life. With all this technology, we are still just surviving. And because everyone has to work so hard at surviving, no one has time for compassion, or thinking, or changing the status quo that traps us all. How the hell did we get in this bind?
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Old 07-06-2010, 01:05 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by joeylovesgaia View Post
Ah, the tragic paradox of modern life. With all this technology, we are still just surviving. And because everyone has to work so hard at surviving, no one has time for compassion, or thinking, or changing the status quo that traps us all. How the hell did we get in this bind?
Maybe that's just the nature of this planet. On Pandora, they thrive, on Earth, we survive. (Maybe I shouldn't have watched After Armageddon ).

Though I agree, ma tsmukan. I've been just surviving my entire life, and I'm sick and f***ing tired of it.
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