From: | CEvans9159@***.com CEvans9159@***.com |
---|---|
Subject: | [RA:S] Beginnings of a story... |
Date: | Wed, 7 Jul 1999 05:46:40 EDT |
be happy to accept comments and critiques and I promise not to get to
defensive about stuff. :) And yes, I spell checked it.
"Indiana Troll and The Labyrinth of Doom" (It's only a working title)
by: Tay-Dor
December 24, 2059 (21:30:32 PST)
I thought I'd open this wizzer package since it doesn't look like
I'll be getting home in time for Christmas. I bought this Pocket Secretary
for my sister. It comes complete with a telecom, day-timer, diary, and even
a detachable text reader. I know my Sis will love that last item since she
doesn't know how to read either.
I am starting to wonder if I'll get home at all. That's probably why
I'm starting this diary. Who knows, maybe someone will find it. Maybe
somebody will at least know I was alive.
It's cold. There's no heat in this place I've found to hide. I
managed to scrounge enough blankets to conserve a little warmth. I figure
none of the critters out there would be interested in this electronics shop.
I just hope none of them Spider-things come in here looking for spare parts.
Since you are reading this, I suppose introductions are in order. My
name is Frankie Winston, but my chummers call me "Flatline". It comes from
two different sources. I have a thing for pre-turn-of-the-century Flat
screen trid...or what they called Television. I guess the other source is I
flatlined when I was getting my spurs implanted. Not really, but the
ripperdoc's heart monitor had a glitch and drekked out for a moment or two.
Of course Flatline has some other connotations with doesn't hurt my street
rep, you know. I run with the Blood Screamers gang up in Shoreline. Before
you bother asking, it's the city directly between the downtown border and
Lynnwood -- you know, between 145th and 205th. Yah, I heard some drek-head
left it off the on-line source book I hear people talking about. We're a
troll gang. Now you are looking back at this diary and wondering how a Troll
came up with big words like "connotations" and "conserve". Troll
doesn't
mean stupid. I may not know how to read, but if you watch the right shows on
the trid, you learn a thing or two. Now if you still got a problem with
that, then go frag yourself.
Well since I have some time to kill, I guess I'll tell you how I got
myself into this God forsaken hellhole of a mess. It all started about five
days ago.
My sister had been bugging the drek out of me about something she'd
seen on the trid. it was an advertisement for one of Renraku's new Pocket
Secretaries. She had been whining about having some way to keep a diary. So
on that fateful day, I grabbed the credstick that I'd been saving money on,
left my gun and my colors at home, and splurged on a taxi. It was nice to be
riding downtown in style instead on a smelly stinky bus. You never know who
died or puked on the seat you just took.
The Arcology was so wizzer, man! Mere words cannot describe it.
Those trid shots just cannot convey the appropriate sense of scale. I
jandered up to one of the main doors. That's important. You have to look
like you know what you are doing, that you belong. Forget the fact that I'm
a troll in a long armored duster. With the right bearing, you can pull most
things off. Guess I did it right. I slotted the stick with my SIN on it and
was passed on through. I can hear it now. A troll ganger with a SIN? Well,
I'll let you in on a secret. It's a fake. Cost me a bundle and it took a
long time to save for, but now I can at least access some of the things that
the SINners can.
I don't think I had ever seen anything more shiny and clean.
Everything was lit up bright by large fluorescencents. I jandered down the
main thoroughfare of the mall and gaped at all of the stores. At the other
end, I could make out an indoor park with real trees that went up three
stories at least.
That's it so far...