From: Matt LaRocque (larocque.matt_at_gmail.com)
Date: Mon Mar 26 2007 - 14:03:49 PDT
=/\= "Glimmer of life in hope or trust" Con't from "Vignettes III" =/\= Location: The Canadian Shield Stardate: 2.60326.1702 Scene: Escarpment face A tiny pebble freed of its compact dirt prison with the mere brush of a finger, rushes toward its new found freedom with unrelenting enthusiasm, energy set into motion racing faster and faster away from where it started. Crashing into the damp earth some 400 metres below where it was freed by Kel McClellans desprate attempt to catch himself on this exposed segment of the Canadian Sheild before he made the journey himself. He was making an attempt to reaquaint himself with... well himself. After all the madness that had just occured on the last mission, he had a moment of clairity. The sythesised stimulant he had grown so dependantly fond of had begun to take his toll, not long after the PATRIOT set course for SB1 had hand tremors set in. Kel managed to keep this disturbing circumstance to himself long enough to beam into the Canadian Wilderness with little more than his pack and his guile, dead-set with determination to break his dependancy. =/\= Scene: Steeltown Docks Time Index: Kel is 15 here "You know that's going to kill you right?" Damian Hedges said mockingly before taking a sip from the beer he held. He was only 17, still a year before he was legally entitled to purchase alcohol, but as the oldest of the group the job of nagging everyone about their vices seemed to fall to him. The youngest of his 12 siblings, Damian never had a tough go of things on the street. People knew who he was, and that's all they needed to know. Kel looked back at him in faux-disgust, "That's what I'm going for here guy, I don't want to live forever." "What's the problem with that, you know how much money you could make in that time?" Johan Stills was the son of a pair of immigrants from Sweden, and usually spent at least half an hour of each day running from whomever decided to take out their rage over their life on him. He was blond, white and had an accent. He was wild and strong, like his friend Kel. The three of them were at the top of a large group of kids, thugs who ran around with whatever heat they could find committing all kinds of crimes because they hated the world. Damian and Kel met when Kel first moved in next door. His older sisters liked Kel because they heard he was a hockey star. Damian avoided him after that, knowing his father wouldn't be pleased to see his daughters running around with a white boy from the prairies. They started hanging out when Damian's youngest sister had her backpack stolen by the neighbourhood bullies after getting off the school bus. Before Damian even had a chance to get it back, Kel got in the perpetrators face, first insulting him then assaulting him, leaving him in such rough shape that anyone who had half a thought of giving this minority, this outsider a hard time quickly forgot about it. Johan was running from a group of kids who were making fun of his accent when he nearly ran Damian over. Damian quickly went from wanting to beat this kid to protecting this kid once he realized that these were some of the same kids who picked on his sisters. Since then, the three were pretty much inseperable. "Speaking of money..." Kel began, waiting for the other two to give him their full focus. As the youngest he was never sure if he was at the the top of the gang or if Damian was, but neither seemed to want to knock the other out of contention so they carefuly played the balance game, "I need tweleve guys to knock off that old bag's place. She's got dogs man." "So take some steaks, you don't need tweleve guys." Damian retorted. "Yeah so when these giant freak-ass dogs swallow these steaks and start gnawing at tibia how am I supposed to break into the safe?" Kel shot back, smoke billowing from his nose as he exhaled. "So what, you just feed the things a few of our smaller guys? That's a bad plan man." Damian was half-kidding, but they all shared a good laugh. "No man it's simple. Trap the dogs, tie up the old bag, blow the safe. Trap, Tie, BOOM. It's fuckin' flawless." Kel took another drag. He was only 15 but he still smoked a pack a day. His wretched aunts would blame it on his father's lack of compassionate influence. Kel simply knew the value of looking cool. "And fence it." Johan added uncertainly. These discussions were usually over his head, but since he was usually the one who pulled off the more complex aspects of the plan he was always involved. "Of course. So how about it, because we have a perfect opening tomorrow." Kel looked at Damian. People on the street steered a wide berth around Kel, no one wanted to be on his list. Damian however had the respect of most people, so drumming up the numbers to pull off Kel's schemes was his department. "I'll see what I can do. Meet up tomorrow same time and place?" =/\= NRPG: To Be Continued next time I'm at a computer. Matt LaRocque Lt. J.G. Kel McClellan Strategic Operations Officer USS PATRIOT From HyperNews_at_youth.net
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