Cayden::Noone Will Ever Really Fuck with America

Fifth: I have met a man who had powers. He fixed my eyesight, for 30 mins.. so I know he had.
He did it just by looking at me, btw.
Cayden: Too bad they were only temporary powers. :)
Should have paid the full subscription fee after the trial 30 minutes.
Fifth: Well, I think the effect was not intended, was just a collateral..

Anyway, he had about 5 of his students, as he called them, with him on that forest clearing
He was a shaman, so they were chanting there something holding hands, in a circle.
Suddenly he stops and asks "Wanna see UFO?"
Everybody fell silent.
Then he says, "OK, look up..." and after a few sec, there is an UFO.
Every last one of em saw it, and the descriptions matched.
That's it. ;)

Cayden: Heh. I once saw a UFO... and I became a conspiracy theorist...
I saw it over Fort Bliss in El Paso.
It moved around mach 17-20.... impossible speeds.
At least, that's how fast it looked, because of the distance it seemed to be at.
It seemed to be about the size of a football field... but very far off.

Years later, I joined the military and got a security clearance and I found out what it was.
Haven't believed a single UFO story since, lol.
Fifth: ok.. and what was it?
Cayden: The sort of thing you need a security clearance to read specs on.
But nothing extraordinary.
Turns out it was slightly larger than a stealth bomber, not anywhere near as far as it seemed (that was apparently intentional) and only moving about mach 7-8.
Fifth: holy shit!
Cayden: Lol, well, yeah, that's still a wow.
But still, SR71 broke what, 4,5 back in the 70s?
Fifth: umm yeah
Cayden: Long story short, noone will ever REALLY fuck with America. They will end before they really start, lol.

Cayden::The Story of the Flying Capuchin Fireball Monkey

Hi Tinstaafl, just in time for the strangest story you will ever hear.
Which is entirely true btw.

I used to do my schoolwork on a Windows 3.1.
At any rate, this 3.1 was SO high tech, it had a 3,5 inch floppy drive...
And a 5 inch FLOPPY drive. Lol.
It seriously took like 10 minutes to save a document.
I could hit save, walk away and eat, come back, and still have to wait. So, I normally just didn't bother to save.
And I had this English paper...
About 3 hours had gone by, I was REALLY on a roll, just typing my fucking ass off...
Oh no, was a psych paper, excuse me.
Was a  300 class, undergrad, so no need to do any real research. Just bullshit for like 10k words, or however many it was.
So here I am, fingers blazing, and suddenly, the computer crashes and the electricity goes out.

Everything.
Complete power down, including street lights outside, for like three blocks down.
And this FIREBALL, I shit you not, a FIRE BALL, goes careening across my yard, flies like 30 metres, from a good 20 metres in the air... bounces a couple times, lands in a patch of mud... and it just burns.
I see this shit out the window and I turn to my chick, and I'm like "!!!!"
And she's like "!!!!"
So we run outside and get to this FIREBALL.
Which is, seriously, a ball of fire.
We're looking at this... and there is a CAPUCHIN MONKEY - like the one from Aladdin? - laying there, on his back, charred all to shit, SHAKING.

I have a really great emote I do when i tell this story in reality.
It is one of life's great travesties that you will never see it.

So, he's laying there with this complete "oh shit" look on his face.
And we're looking at each other with a complete "oh shit" look on our faces.
Just to reiterate - this is El Paso, Texas.
Just north of the Mexican border.
I had enver seen a monkey in my life. Ever.
And here's this fucking monkey, who's laying there KFC-style in a ball of fire.
We stood there, not knowing what we should do, and the guy's emitting these little monkey-coughs of smoke.
*Cough* [tiny puff of smoke]

Then a car pulls up.
Some bigass Towncar or something, early eighties, a complete BOAT of a car - huge.
This, at the time, was a REALLY expensive car.
And it pulls up with this four foot eight EIGHTY YEAR OLD MAN in a white pimp-suit.
He gets out, and he's screaming: "WHO SHOT MAH MONKEY!!!"
"WHO SHOT MAH MONKEY!!!"
and I'm saying... "Umm... Nobody shot your monkey, sir...
But he was on fire...
I mean, what do you really say, right?
"Well, there I was working on a paper that will define my Abnormal Psychology 347 class, and suddenly a monkey exploded out of thin air and flew amidst a fireball across thirty metres of yard to land on the ground."
No. Just doesn't work, right?
So I was like "ummm... he was on fire?"
Which was pretty obvious.
He grabs this monkey, still smoldering, cradles him against what must have been a 10k usd suit, gets back in his car and drives off.
That's it.

Half an hour later the electric company truck shows up.
One of the ones with a big basket on it, that lifts to a higher storey.
We go out to find out what the fuck is going on and this guy is up there working on the transformer.
He says "what THE FUCK is THIS?!" and he tosses it down to me.
And I said "Ummmm... I think.... that that's a monkey paw."
And so it was.
There was a fried Capuchin Monkey paw in my transformer.
Which actually explains the whole Capuchin Monkey Fireball.

So, the next day I go to class, and I tell my professor I don't have the paper.
HE is shocked, as I'm a 4,0 student and demands to know why.
I tell him there is a very good reason, but I wil never be able to tell him, because he would believe I was lying, and that would follow me for the rest of my time in University.
Well, he got me to tell him anyway...
When I finished the story, he says "That is the most incredulous thing I have ever heard in my life.
"There is no way on God's Green Earth that you seriously expect me to believe that.
"That is SUCH a FUCKING REDICULOUS story...
"That you have either got to be telling the truth or you are the ballsiest liar I have ever met in my life.
"You have until Monday."

So... that is the story of the Flying Capuchin Fireball Monkey in El Paso Texas.

Cayden::The Tranny Brothel Story

So, my bootcamp was in Chicago, Illinois.
After it, my paperwork wound up backed up, so I went on hold, waiting, for a few months.
During that time, I was pretty much put in charge of accountability for about a quarter of the people there...
So, I set it up so that my group of friends would alternate back and forth who'd be staying there to actually WORK, and the rest of us would go into town for a week.
Since we kept the rosters ourselves, we simply checked off that we were there...
And the only high ranking enlisted who were on hold there were the ones getting kicked out, so they never even showed up.
At some point, one of the guys accidentally discovered a bar-type thing in Chicago, it had an upstairs, and he found out the hard way that the women there weren't women.
But they REALLY looked like women. It was pretty convincing.
We'd take new guys there, to indoctrinate them into the group. We'd haze all the new guys we were letting into our administrative group, by taking them to this place, and hooking them up with a girl. "Girl" mind you.

The girls knew what we were doing, but they liked it, and didn't blow it for us, cus it was funny, and only one of them got hurt once. We paid for that one.
And who wants to fuck over a fun time for a bunch of good looking sailors, right? lol.
We had a bunch of different reactions.

One guy went upstairs with one, came down a half an hour later, swearing he had fucked her.
HER.
So... We knew he hadn't.
Which was ODD, because she was a whore.
s/he.
We asked her afterwards. She said he was "Just about the cutest man I've ever met... such a dork... he just wanted to talk the whole time."
A guy in a room with someone he thinks is a chick for 30 minutes, and he doesn't try to get his rocks off.
We had one dude walk in, say "that's the purdiest man I ever saw" and then laughed at us, he caught on instantly.
So we were like "waht the FUCK?" because NONE of these men looked like men. Not even like ugly women.
And he said he Mom had actually become a tranny when he was 16 o.O
So... We had one guy go up and fuck him.
Comes down, we KNEW he had done it, and we were like "WHAT THE FUCK?!!?"
Turns out he was gay, haha.
Joke's on us.

We had this one Puerto Rican guy, real suave guy.
He comes in here, and he walks in, and he doesn't even sit down. Walks right over to the "hottest" one and starts hitting on "her" and he's actually doing a REALLY good job of it, right?
Like, if it was a chick on the street, he'd be getting laid.
We don't interfere and I think a couple of the guys there were probably taking mental notes, he had really good lines.
At one point, he goes upstairs with 'her' and we, like with EVERY guy, sat there and had a betting pool.
NORMALLY what happens is that the guy comes down after about three minutes, pissed as FUCK.
Start swinging on us, etc...
We had learned where to sit, and how to arrange the money on the table so it didn't get mixed up.
Here we are with this betting pool going. 10 minutes into it, we've got probably fifty bucks on the table.
About when he's going to come down, what he's going to say, etc...
Twenty minutes in, we have well over a hundred bucks.
After FORTY FIVE MINUTES we have like 500 bucks on the table.
Half of us are saying he's gay.
I knew this guy, i knew the chicks he fucked--he wasn't gay.
I actually put down a bet that he had seriously fucked her up when he realized 'she' was a guy, and he was about to call one of us to come up there and bag the body.
We have like 500 bucks on the table... and he comes down the stairs.
He's COVERED in sweat.
His shirt is unbuttoned.
And he sits down at the empty chair...
And we're just looking at him (I think a couple guys moved their chairs a little away from him) and we were VERY silent for a few minutes.
And someone says "Man, you know that was a dude, right?"
And he says "Yeah... I didn't know she had already started blowing me... But by then I was so turned on, I just hit it anyway."
DEAD SILENCE.
And we started taking our money back. Not even splitting it up. Just silently picking up our cash... and left.
He went with us, but noone spoke a single word...
All the way back. Three hour ride back.
Noone said a thing..

He didn't wind up in the group.

DarkFall::Orolt Lifebringer

Small Scale PvP [1]
Small Scale PvP [2]
Small Scale PvP [3]

Agon::Mirendil::King's Holdfast

DarkFall::The Map of Agon

AfterWorld::"The Quarantine Zone"

translation of the short story by biker

Hail, heavy work,
Plow, shovel and pick!

-- Valery Briusov

This zone has no tip or edge. Once I reached out to its borders, and then far away in the haze, i caught a glimple of huge lifeless walls, reaching up to the sky. But most of the time I wander on the endless hills in a senseless pursuit of the next kilograms of incandescent copper or corrosive nitrate, rubbing my feet to the blood in my cheap jackboots. And all that time there was only one thought that kept me going - just one thought that gave me strength to carry on.

Now, in the center of the quarantine, the dazzling relentless sun once again is striping off my scorched skin. As I squeeze a cheap pickaxe into my right hand it's inconvenient handle painfully burns my blood blisters. But if I don't bring in half a ton of resources before the evening this smegging Warrant Officer deprives me again my shabby piece of bread and a pitiful handful of dollars. Worst of all, then I have to sleep under the open sky - and nobody knows whether in the night-time the unstable blocking energy shields don't fail again, freeing the repulsive monsters on the other side - evil mother wolf, ghoulish molesaurs or even a giant walking R-57..

Elite fighters, armed with "Kashtans" and Anela-type heavy swords, of course, will laugh at us, simple noobs whose only weapons are heavy and uncomfortable pickaxes. Their squad's firepower can turn any creature into heap of rubble from hundreds of meters away. But they prefer to watch from a distance as powerful bolotoids rush onto us, leaving behind them a repellent trail of human organs and intestines, or as high-speed lasers of bigfoots maim us, cutting off our arms and legs. One day I will become as powerful as they are - no, even better! - And I will take my revenge! My revenge for their indifference, ruthlessness and contempt for ordinary slaves. But to make this happen...

I look around cautiously. No-one to be seen, just lifeless boring slopes of parched dunes, and the sound of occassional distand blows of the pickaxe of another noob like me from half a kilometre away. But who knows what implants the masters of this harsh world have planted into our brains? Maybe their computers are capable of scanning even our most secret thoughts? Oh, whatever, i can't care less. What is the difference if I will be eaten up by a mad bear or given a life sentence to the forced labor camp by the local security services?

In order to take my revenge, I must run away from here!

Silence. No reaction, nothing changed in the world around me. Under the feet crackles fine sand and the dry barbed grass that sways lightly in the sultry wind, shivering my legs. Seems the Masters don't suspect anything. Excellent!

My plan is simple, but extremely risky. However, it seems, now is the time. Have to sneak closer to the energy shields, try to stay unnoticed and not attract the attention of police or elite fighters who love to spend their time near the "zoo" - holding area for the monsters behind the transparent protective wall. Sometimes the energy wall fails, and then these creatures rush out into Quarantine zone. For the elites it is an entertainment but for us ordinary plodders - painful injuries or death. The next time when the wall crashes I should try to escape from this hell zone. One friend - who was translukated last week for his failure to gather prescribed amount of mineral ores by two kilograms - told me a secret about a relatively safe route to Saransk. There, according to him, is underground Resistance, the opposition to governing regime. He even told to me whom i must contact to get a forged passport of a citizen. Yes, this is my only chance.

Escape from the quarantine!

Oh, that was what I have dreamed about in these endless quarantine nights, wheezing and coughing on my crude wooden bunk. All these years only the idea about escape gave me energy to survive. And now... Recently, the frequency of failures in screens has definitely increased, and i should use the opportunity before it's too late. If the cyborg-repairmen arrive this way out Quarantine will be closed down forever.

Tonight, when everything has fallen silent I will crawl closer to the power tower, and then I will tirelessly wait for my chance.

But meanwhile I have to complete this goddamn norm in order to get slice of bread and pottage, otherwise I don't have the strenght to hike up to the tower! I cast a look on the hot cheerless landscape and rise my heavy pickaxe up over my head. Only two thousand three hundred ninety-six strikes to go...


Wind is sweeping the surface layer of the soil, and the poisonous dust painfully chokes my heat-swollen eyes. But I try not to blink in order to not to miss a moment, when the dim red light on the tower flashes a couple of times, signaling about a decrease of the tension in the cable grid. The dark clouds in an almost black sky are rushing directly at me, like a severe security guards, who have spotted the scampering noob.

My tattered boilersuit noisily flutters in the gust of wind, I wince and nearly miss the cherished moment. Signal tracker on the rig went off! Yes, the force field has finally shut down - for kilometers to the east I can't see a single characteristic electric flash. Stupid monsters, of course, didn't realize what just happened - they may break in the Quarantine only by coincidence, but nevertheless - I must hurry. Most important now is to avoid ending up as a dinner for some hungry creature.

I duck and charge forward, trying to keep myself low, running to the north, towards my freedom. To the right I can hear the viperous barking of the feral hogs and the hissing of elslugs, the bony tails of huge scorpions strike my boots, and far away I can see the giant figures of the huge walking devices. But I rush forward, from time to time mustering all my remaining strenght to sweep my axe towards the threatening shadows. And then a miracle happens - somehow, with the seventh sense, I feel that I have escaped from the quarantine! Before me unfolds an amazing scenery - lush green forests, filled with endless downpours; rocky mountaintops wrapped into frenzied whirlwinds of snow, the abandoned cities, where unusual cybernetic machines are roaming around; the fierce firefights boiling around the deserted plants; caravans of armored oiltanker-trucks, stretching over several kilometers, plundered by gangs of bandits...

Suddenly, my brain stops working. The surrounding world just dies out and freezes. I try to turn my head, and then I realize that I'm completely paralyzed. Time stops, red and white sparks are dancing before my eyes, sharp pain pierces my head, and I feel like a fly, caught into viscous sticky web from which there is no escape... not even the slightest chance...


Chief AW-hitektor slowly sipped black coffee with a thick invigorating scent from the greenish melchior cup with a built-in heater, very pleasant to the touch. Cozy cyber-armchair smoothly rearranged itself according to little bit tired body of it's owner, and AW-hitektor touched the sensor "Light Massage". Once again, he enjoyed a delicious aroma of his favorite drink, and after that just as slowly puffed his Havana cigar, which was only recently carefully twisted up by sweaty young mulates for the owner of this private plantation.

The twelve-dimensional programming system dynamically visualized holographic pattern of information flows of the AfterWorld. Semantic meta-analysators monitored the individual threads and to identify suspicious patterns in the one-exabyte network traffic, heuristic tracer of critical alerts quickly formed a yellow spiral, signaling about the emergence of the suspicious event of a fourth threshold, which was automatically locked.

- Logs - throwed Chief AW-hitektor disgruntledly, and the next moment before his eyes howered uninterrupted flow of whimsical characters into which was coded the behavior of the beings of the subsidiary world. There! AW-hitektor slide his index finger, pulling desired lines out of the colorful ribbons. He carefully eyed on them, pondered and scratched back of his head. Then he sighed and leaned back to the backrest of the obliging intellectual armchair.

Yes, no doubt, it is a bug. Somewhere, apparently, did not initialize a temporary variable, which had to keep pointer to a dynamic object in the global self-organized memory, and as a result, from time to time an idea fix occurred to some noob to try some utterly stupid action - for example, try to escape from the quarantine zone. Bug was simple, and as soon as he can spare a couple of hours, he will fix it in the appropriate server nano-scripts.

But not today - in a hour starts a party in honor of the release of the last mega-patch, where four models are waiting for the AW-hitektor. Models are not virtual - they are very much alive - brunette, two blondes and a red-head of the particularly energetic type.

Meanwhile the malfunctioning noob will be simply respawned back to the quarantine - let him keep working. AW-hitektor quickly gave the corresponding order to the gateway debugger of the AfterWorld kernel and reached for the cup of coffee.


...I rubbed the palms of my hands, and wearily let my pickaxe fall down to stone nugget with glittering veins of nickel. Hot air roasted my lungs. For the miles around me there was not even the slightest scant of shade, and wiping the caustic prespiration off my forehead to the cankerous sand that was glowing in the fierce sun, I droopily continued my unending work.
Another couple thousand hits, and the norm will be filled. But I spit on the norm! I'm not doing it to meet the demands of the local police force. There is only one thought that motivates me, only this one thought fills me with infinite energy.

Escape from the Quarantine!

AfterWorld::Revival-killings

have u seen how old avatars are leaving revival? how they seem to materialize few meters away from it, while moving and healing up.. ?
the thing is in fact the revival killing is not possible any more, all revivals in AW are safe zones now. but it wasn't always like that, once upon a time this was possible to kill some one on the revival. i killed Mirror once at lake revival, using Warrior - the biggest gun i was able to use - and Mirror was a very powerful avatar, high avoids, huge HP, good gun. i could pull this off only once, because i was ready but he wasn't. second time he was prepared and all i saw was a slight shimmering in the air and then his moving shape materialized behind the revival pad..

i also remember Iulian shooting 4 or 5 ppl on the lake revival, over and over again. i was standing right next to Iulian, i couldn't do anything to stop him, but i didn't leave either - i stayed and tried to teach those ppl how to escape. they said it is not possible.
then i asked Iulian to shoot me at the moment i will revive on pad, and pressed ctrl+d. i did it 3 times, 2 successful and 1 unsuccessful attempt.

the dead bodies on the revival looked at this, and said it is not possible.
they were lying there nicely side by side like sprats on the frying pan, trying to revive - one a few seconds after another, thus giving Iulian's gun just enough time to reload an shoot the next.. no coordination, no teamplay, not trying to learn what was told and demonstrated to them, nothing..

just bunch of sprats on the frying pan and lot of whining on local chat
so i left, leaving them to their fate..