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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 10, 2011 16:59:56 GMT -5
*After I leave the party, I start walking towards the city. It seems crazy at first, but I'm just hoping to find a road. I somehow find a car before I find a road, which is especially crazy because it's MY car, the Trans Am that I was in with Retro, Blackie, Airs, and IA before we hijacked the BLI van. I could have sworn I left it near a road, but I realize that some other Killjoy must have used it, because the gas tank is close to empty and there's a few empty cans of Power Pup in the driver's seat. I toss them out in disgust, then get in and drive off toward a string of lights in the distance, which I find to be made up purely of streetlights. No one leaves the city, really, so it's not unexpected that there are no headlights to be seen. I shrug and floor it, fiddling with my radio absently. I don't know what I'm looking for, but it's probably Dr. D's station. I forget that he's not on the air (or possibly on this plane of existance) anymore, so I keep skipping around. I don't expect to hear a girl's happy voice on station 99, and it makes me jump and swerve a bit when something that ISN'T static comes on the radio. She's talking about the some kid named "Nack", whatever the hell kind of name that's supposed to be, and then a "The Only Hope For Me Is You" comes on. I sing along loudly, and things feel like a roadtrip.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 10, 2011 17:27:25 GMT -5
*Suddenly, the stream of music stops, and the happy girl starts talking again. She mentions trouble at Lucky Strikes, and I gulp; I want to help, but I can't go back there. I ran away from everyone else for a reason, and I'm not going back on my plan now.
And then she mentions me. And how Bullet - a Killjoy I've known for a week at most - is wishing my luck, and how everyone's missing me.
I have to pull over so I can cry my eyes out without the danger of running myself into a lamppost. I can just tell, the message was on Blackie's behalf. She's probably torn between missing me and wanting to tear me in half for leaving at the moment. Hell, I'm doing that myself. Even "Na Na Na" isn't cheering me up; I can't even sing one word without cholking on it.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 12, 2011 18:42:14 GMT -5
*I'm almost to my Zone 6 hideout when Stell's first transmission comes through. The one about Aspien. I pull over again, fists clenching; I only met the kid once, but she was one of us, and her death will be mourned.
I wait too long.
And now Bunny Killightly is added the the list of dead friends.
I punch my windshield. Hard. I don't give a fuck that it's my favorite car I'm breaking, I'm just so angry. No, not angry. Sad. Full of dismay. How is this possible? How can everything get so messed-up within one stupid day? I punch the windshield again and again, my knuckles bleeding, the glass starting to crack a tiny bit. Finally, I just double over and sob.
So much heartbreak in a single day. For the first time since I left school, the familiar, cynical voice flits through my brain. You're going to die anyway, it says. Why not now? In the wake of all this sadness? I stab the fleeting thought before it can get away, rip its imaginary wings off. I have a job to do. Avenge them. All four: Bunny, Aspien, Cross, Ry. Two that no one in the Zones knew, two that everyone's mourning.
And I turn off the road, toward the open desert, and I floor it, heading toward the only place that I know is a safe haven for me.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 13, 2011 20:03:53 GMT -5
*I somehow manage to stay well away from Lucky Strikes while driving to Six. It involves a fairly lengthy detour on a major road, but I guess it's worth it. Blackie's probably back there, and if I know her, she'd chase after me fast enough to catch up. Those crazy adrenaline spikes are too shiny, and I wish I could have some sort of cool radiation superpower. But at least I have my hideouts.
Which reminds me. I stop next to the greenhouse and crawl in through one of the windows, which is somehow broken. Trying not to get broken glass in my shoes, I crawl in and turn one of the empty plant pots (which once contained some black-eyed susans, according to the tag in the dirt) 90 degrees. When I look back outside, my car disappears in an artificial sandstorm. I disappear seconds later in an elevator, and reach the floor of my lovely hideout in Zone Six. A quick run through the booby-trapped hallway and two doors later, and I'm in Seven. Safe. Home.* Volume! Welcome back! *Caroline's voice is a lot happier than I remember it being. She must have been learning from something. AI is great.* Thank you, Caroline. *I glance around, expecting to see Music, or Leather, or someone. But there's a conspicuous lack of people.* Weren't there people here? They all left. Even that girl in Zone Three and the one in Zone Five. I have seen none of them since they left. Oh. Okay. If you do, record footage of it, please? *I go into my little room and start shoving clothes into a bag. The most boring outfits only, and only monochrome. I can't go looking like a Killjoy while pretending to be a civvie.* Are you not staying? Nope. I've got some things I want to do. So I'll be away for a while. But I WILL come back. This isn't a permanent vacation to Battery or anything. *I glare at the pile of papers from my old life. Andrea Alexander. It feels like she died a long time ago.* Just a road trip. To see my family...and my dead friends....Hey, Caroline? Could you look up an address for Sandra and Daniel Alexander? See if it's changed within the last few years? *A whirring sound can be heard.* They have lived at the same address for seven years. Does that help? It does, thanks. And could you also create some fake records for one Andrea Alexander? You're not gonna find the name in there. Just make something up for her activities since 2015, but have me...erm, her, cross into Zone Six from Zone 20. Understood. I take it you're going to visit these Alexanders? Yep. Going home, or whatever I should be calling it. *I shove a few more white shirts into my bag and zip it shut.* Doesn't seem like a home anymore....
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 14, 2011 20:48:09 GMT -5
*As an afterthought, I pick up a small bundle from a forgotten corner of the room and peel off the bloodstained shirt that I wrapped it in. It's my old code scrambler, or whatever it's called, a pocket-sized red and white Bible that's not supposed to be red, and a burnt-black denim jacket. I didn't ever want to look at these again, and I bite my tongue hard to distract myself from the sinking in the pit of my stomach.* Those are significant, are they not? They are. Highly. Only things I kept from the dead bodies of two dead friends. *I run my fingers over the scorch marks on the jacket.* Ah, Ry. I warned you, idiot. Should I keep those safe for you? You should. And hide them. I don't want to look at them again for a long, long time. Do you still have that boring black compact car hidden away? Because I'm gonna need it. You certainly are going through a lot to fit in. Those clothes look...strange on you. *I'm wearing a white button-down, long-sleeved shirt and tight blue jeans. Other than the hair stripe, I could totally pass for a normal kid, which sickens me.* Trust me, they feel even weirder. It's like I peeled off my skin and put on snakeskin or something.
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 14, 2011 21:21:22 GMT -5
But really. I'm gonna need the stupid car. I understand. It can be ready for you in Zone Six within five minutes. Gotcha. I'll just pack up a few more things, then. *I have a secret little pouch in my black backpack, which I open up. The scrambler goes in, as does my bandana and Plague. I remind myself over and over that Andrea Alexander is not a Killjoy, does not need protection, cannot have even a sliver of an attitude. Andrea Alexander is a boring old civvie, and I need to be her. For the last time, I swear. I'm never being her again. It's too irritating.* Caroline, if I'm not back within two months, don't expect me to come back. I don't think it should take that long. So, you're implying that this is going to be dangerous? I'm implying that if I don't convince everyone that I'm a civ, I won't be coming back unscathed if I come back at all. Please come back safe, Volume. No promises means no expectations. *I choke on an unexpected wave of emotion.* Are you- I was so incredibly heartless. No wonder you used to have a boring old bot personality. *I grimace and turn toward the hallway to Six.* Sorry about that. Don't be sorry. My sole purpose is to make you happy, Volume, and it seems I am failing. Wrong. You were created to help all the Killjoys of the Zones as best you could from here. I'm just a side project. *I open the door and race toward Six, dodging traps and the sound of Caroline's voice. "My sole purpose is to make you happy"? Where'd she get THAT from?*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 15, 2011 18:11:58 GMT -5
*I decide that I should block all the old slightly-gushy movies from Caroline's hard drive when I get back, and eventually climb into the stupid black compact car. Any normal teenager would probably want one like this: there's not that many miles on it, and it's polished so much that I can see myself in it (I look horrible, as per usual). I hate the thing. It makes me feel like I'm a civ again, which, technically, is how I should be feeling. This whole charade is bound to end badly for me. But, hell, my family must need some finality. Sweet lady, my mom filed a missing persons report on me.
I might need some too. Now that I can finally say that I have a heart and all, it hurts even more to remember Cross and Ry.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 18, 2011 12:38:51 GMT -5
*It almost seems like the Zones have gotten bigger as I drive through them. I know that One through Six are relatively small, but once I cross into Eight it feels like I'm driving for an eternity. I thought that Cross and I managed to get from Zone 20 to Cali in four days, but maybe it took longer than that. With the extra time, listen to all my My Chem CDs, because apparently Stell's away from her station, and dream up my cover story.
According to my lie, Andrea Alexander was held captive by Killjoys. Two of them, both dead, that BLI would never end up searching for. I model them after Cross and Ry, but give them different names: Light Show and Desert Ratt. I create a nonexistant, highly-detailed hideout for them, and dream up a few other captives. It's not even difficult, like some lies I've kept going before.
By nightfall, I'm in Zone Nine. I've been going at an actually reasonable speed, which makes me wonder how fast I was going on the way to the hot Zones. I was probably subconciously flooring it. I draw my mental map and remember that Cross's grave was somewhere just inside No Man's Land, close to both 17 and 19 in the least radioactive bit of that area. Ry's was somewhere in Zone 12. Neither were very far off any old highways. I drive off the road and, once I can't see it anymore, curl up in the driver's seat and sleep.*
((I'm using IA's map of the postapocalyptic U.S. for the Zones.))
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 22, 2011 15:17:22 GMT -5
*The next morning, I wake up with a wide yawn and get to driving again. Today, I'm going crazy slow, not even close to my usual "high-speed-chase" driving style. I'm dreading what's going to happen to me once I hit Zone Twelve. Judging from how I first appeared in Six, dazed, depressed, and standing on a cliff, it won't be anything good. Humming almost every sad song I know, I eventually recognize the spot in Zone Twelve where Ry and I stayed for... however long. It gets hard to tell about the passage of time in the Zones. I veer off the road and speed up. The grave's not going away anytime soon, and I can't avoid it.
I get out of the car and kneel down on the sand next to a huge, overturned rock. Last time I was here, I was burying one of my friends. It's weird how much it took over my life. I can barely remember anything from between arriving in Zone Six right after Ry died and meeting Blackie in Zone Four, a lapse of a few weeks at the very least. I run my hands through the sand and absently draw with one finger, trying to pull something, anything out of my mind. Nothing. I glance from side to side before speaking.*
Hey, Riot. It's been a while. *I half-smile.* Yeah, I know you're kind of dead right now. Idiot. How many times did I tell you to quit it with the fire? Doesn't help now, though. *I look over my shoulder for a second again.* It feels stupid, sitting here, talking to a big rock. But I like to think that sometimes, shadows DO live on without us. Even though it's creepy. It means I'm not just talking to a dead guy for the second time this year, but that you're actually listening and I'm not totally insane. *I keep drawing with one hand, not entirely concious of what I'm doing, and continue to mumble to myself for a while, not even thinking about the words spilling out of my mouth. After I'm done, I can't even remember what they are.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 24, 2011 9:15:27 GMT -5
*I think I'm done talking to the desert within an hour. Eventually, I stand up and dust myself off, beginning to walk back to the car. A few steps away, I trip over something which I assume is my own foot and get a faceful of sand. Slightly embarassed, I get up again and kick the sand. Instead of tiny bits of rock, my foot hits something solid. I kneel to brush the sand off it and pick it up.
It's a Better Living Industries radio. It's covered in scorch marks and exuding static, as if whoever was using it to transmit had been spontaneously killed.
Suddenly, I feel a stab of pain in my forehead as a long-buried memory forces itself to the surface. Unbidden, a scream eminates from my throat as a past long suppressed runs past underneath my eyes. I don't realy see things, but I can essentially feel what the images look like as the flow through my brain....
"Sorry about this, Vol. But they were about to kill us both. It was my only choice." "No, it wasn't!" "It was life or death!" "You could have always chosen death! It's what I would have done!" "I...I couldn't. I couldn't just write you off like that-" "So you picked BLI?!" I can see my gun raising beneath my eyes, Riot's eyes widening. "That WAS writing me off. I could have taken them. And I can take you, no problem." "Volume. You wouldn't. You couldn't." "Give me two good reasons not to." Ry paused. For a long time, as if debating something. "I lo-" "No you don't!" I screech and fire. Ry slumps to the ground. I shoot a few more times, angry, betrayed....He was the only thing I had had out in the Zones anymore, after Cross. I know Ry's dead, but I won't stop shooting until my gun runs out of battery. Suddenly, the ceiling seems to raise up as I slump to the floor, instantly erasing the memory from my mind....
I can't do so well in the present. My brain burns with the memory of the lasers, and betrayal hurts ten times more than it did the first time.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Sept 25, 2011 10:03:54 GMT -5
*I stand in the same spot for a while, staring alternately at the radio with its annoying static and the blank sky. Finally, I organize my racing thoughts and speak to the desert.* So...that's three friends that I've killed? And Ry wasn't burned, he was shot many times with a laser? And everything I used to console myself was a lie. *The last one isn't a question. Nothing answers me, as expected, and I sigh deeply and walk shakily back to the car. The second I sit down, I am overtaken by tremors so strong that it feels like I'm about to shatter, vibrate myself into a million pieces. They eventually subside, leaving me clutching at my sides and barely holding back tears. I have to force myself to stop shaking and start driving, but it takes quite some time. I drive in silence through the night and eventually stop (presumably somewhere in Zone 14, though it might be in 16. I don't keep track.) and sleep. I have nightmares, but upon waking, I can't remember what they are.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Oct 1, 2011 0:19:51 GMT -5
*The sun wakes me up for the first time in a long time. I cover my eyes with one arm, groaning as if it will make the all-too-bright light go away. Of course, it won't. So I get up, still irritated, and drive. I drive and drive and drive, staying off all the main roads, making random loops sometimes to find a place to pull over. I eat sometimes, sleep sometimes, and sometimes just sit there and stare out at the scrubby plants and sands, wondering how my life could go so wrong so fast. This goes on for two or so days, with me sleeping longer and being more skeptical of highways. I haven't seen a single Drac patrol in half a week, and that leaves me open to believe that something needs to happen to me soon. I just have that kind of luck. After four full days of travel, I end up somewhere around what used to be Illinois, ready to head south and find Cross. After the incident at Riot's grave, I've tried to prepare myself for another major memory shift; my memory of her death, however, is so terrible that I can't imagine that I made it any better.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Oct 1, 2011 22:54:47 GMT -5
*The next morning, I cross into No Man's Land near what used to be West Virginia and immediately strap on my gas mask. The corner between two of the clean Zones is actually alright to live in, but there's no way in Hell I'm taking any chances. As I reach Cross's grave and kneel down by the makeshift cross that I made for her in a sorrowful stupor, I half expect something else to come flooding back, some other terrible, long-buried memory to surface. Nothing does. I just feel terrible, knowing that it was my creation that had killed my oldest friend, my first Volume Bomb that shattered her eardrums and sent a piece of debris into her lung. I never did stop hating myself for this, I recall. I realize that I probably never will.
Unbidden, flashes of stars come back, the ones I watched on the night after Cross died, crying, praying for the last time in my life. That there really was a Heaven, and that my poor friend made it there. Sometimes, I still look up at the stars and wonder about that. Some things don't change over time.
Others do. Namely, the fact that Cross's death is a dull pain now. Less than the other recent deaths. Maybe, I realize, I got finality on this a long time ago.
I talk through my mask filter to her grave for a little while, mostly talking about the people from the Zones and how she would have liked them, the battles and rescues and infighting, how crazy I got after I got back from Battery. I don't tell her about killing anyone, though, out of respect for the old Cross. She would have hated the thought of me killing anyone. By mid-afternoon, I'm back into actual Zones, heading toward my old home.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Oct 2, 2011 9:19:24 GMT -5
*I have to drive for four hours after I see the "Welcome to Zone 20" sign. My stomach drops as the scenery starts to become familiar, knowing that I'm almost home. I drive along the main highway that I used to use to get from my grandmother's house back to mine getting gradually faster and faster as I get more and more tense. My mother will panic, ask me what happened, why I've been missing for four years. I'll have to give them my story, which I run through in my mind just to be sure....
It's then that I see the flashing lights behind me and swear. Of course. I've been too lucky. I pull to the side of the road and roll down my window, noticing the speedometer going down from almost 90 in the last few seconds. What a time to slip back into my Killjoy style of driving.*
Miss, do you have any idea how fast you were going? Very fast, apparently. You were going over 100 miles per hour in a 65 mile per hour zone. Now, I know that there is next to no one on the road, but that is no excuse. Yes, sir. I know, sir. It's just that I've been away from home for four years and I'm almost there and I was excited- That is understandable, but you will still be fined. Identification, please? Of course. *I reach into the backseat of the car and grab the wad of papers out of my backpack, passing them to the patrol guy. He's wearing one of those stupid full-head masks that looks like a giant sock with the BLI face on it.* *He reads over my papers.* Miss Alexander...you have been missing for four years. Do you have anything at all to say for yourself? I was kept in a Killjoy base for the majority of that. They kidnapped me, locked me in this small dark room...I can't even explain it. Four years! Really, now? Because Better Living Industries has updated the wanted list with civilian-level information of wanted Killjoys, based on facial recognition. Did you know that, Miss...*He looks down at his little BLI tablet for a second.* Volume? No, I did not.... *I trail off as I realize that I just responded to my Killjoy name.* I believe that is all the information I need. Come with me if you want to survive this encounter. *He points one of the BLI laser rifles at me.* *I rear back and punch the guy in his face. As he's distracted, I reach back and grab Plague out of its little compartment in my bag and shoot him through the heart. The instant I'm sure he's dead, I whip my car around and drive down the highway at a semi-reasonable speed, clutching the raygun, breathing hard. I don't stop driving until I'm in the desert, leaving me awake for about 30 hours straight. A few hours in, I realize that I left the patrol man holding my civ papers.*
Another hate crime for Volume Virus. *Safely off the highways, I floor it.*
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Post by Volume Virus on Oct 4, 2011 19:10:59 GMT -5
*On an impulse, I drive longer than I normally would, passing every one of my hideouts in favor of Zone Two and my old friend's grave. My pilgrimage is not over yet. Humming along to "Exile Vilify," the song that I will never NOT equate with my murder of Alec, I let my car shoot through Zone Two...until it stops running.* Ah, shit. Really? Now? *I get out of the stupid car, which I never liked, and open the hood, getting a faceful of smoke. Okay, so driving for days and days at illegal speeds until the tank was almost empty isn't good for your car. I should have guessed that before. Groaning, I grab my backpack out of the backseat and start walking in the estimated direction of Zone Three. Eventually, I see a large, low building with...I have to squint to see it, but there's an anarchy symbol on a scrap of cloth attached to the wall. I jog toward the building, which I take for a Killjoy hideout, and start waving my arms over my head.* Hello?! Is there anyone in there that can fix a car?
((Aaaaaand transferring to "If This Is The Frontline". Excursion over.))
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