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[Ragitsu]

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With the first link, the chain is forged. The first speech unsanctioned, the first thought forbidden, the first freedom denied - chains us all irrevocably

[Ragitsu]

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[Ragitsu]

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http://www.seasky.org/deep-sea/ocean-layers.html

[Certified]

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The Defenders

[Certified]

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I'm listening to "Deep Ocean Vast Sea" by Peter Murphy (http://bit.ly/gx0pFt) #pandora

[Narf the Mouse]

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them

[Ragitsu]

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A little too much to buy into.

[Certified]

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOE0uE3XXmQ

[Ragitsu]

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"There is nothing so stable as change."

 

- Bob Dylan

[Ragitsu]

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=taXF_RNepvk&feature=related

[Ragitsu]

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I would never do drugs anyway because drugs are bad, mkay? Drags are BAD! But what in the world were you thinking getting stoned while playing Silent Hill of all games? I'm really surprised you didn't literally get sucked inside the game and forced to spend eternity being chased by rompers!

[Ragitsu]

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Jack Nicholson is the only man alive that can make dancing to Prince, scary.

[Ragitsu]

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Chapter 1 – Born to be wild

 

Ten years old. Big deal. Michael had spent his entire childhood in Vault 101, and would more than likely be spending the rest of his years there as well. The magic age simply meant that he was finally going to be getting his first work assignments, his first pip-boy, and maybe even a little respect from the older denizens of the vault. What he hadn't expected was lunchtime to be transformed into a party from his best friend Amata. Perhaps the fact that the lights were off in the room should have been a hint, but the burst of light and cheers of "Surprise!" was enough for him to realize that he'd be getting cake with lunch today.

 

"Happy birthday!"

 

"Happy birthday!"

 

"Happy birthday!"

 

"Happy birthday!"

 

"Happy birthday!"

 

"I can't believe this! Thanks guys!" Though about half of the people in the room were at least two decades older than him, that was just the way the vault was, and he was happy to see most of the people he could call friends had managed to show up. Officer Gomez, who had been teaching Michael everything he knew about self-defense. Lucy Palmer, the old lady who had always acted like a grandmother to him. Stanley, the old engineer who seemed to keep the vault running all by himself, while even squeezing in enough time to show Michael the maintenance conduits and air vents that always gave him the edge whenever the kids played hide and seek. And of course, his father James, who was responsible for every healing miracle in the vault. Looking around, he noticed that only some of the kids in the same pregnancy cycle as him were here, with Freddie, Christine, and Susie all missing. Amata more than made up for that however.

 

"Ha Ha! We surprised you, didn't we?" said Amata. She took one of the ridiculous party hats everyone else was wearing and placed it on her friend's head. Despite being only ten and nine years old respectively, Michael and Amata had been best friends for years, even with the jeering they got from other kids: "Girls are icky!" "Boys are smelly!", as well as an increasing hatred from her father Alphonse, known best as the Overseer by the residents of the vault.

 

"You bet! I never thought for one second that you would do all this for me! Thanks!"

 

"It wasn't all me, plenty of other people helped."

 

"But only a friend like you would manage to get everyone together like this."

 

Amata blushed. "Uh... Hey, guess what I got you for your birthday?"

 

"No idea...maybe an assault rifle?"

 

She laughed. "You're obsessed with those old movies, you know that? I know you'll be a security officer someday. Anyway, how about an issue of Grognak the Barbarian? Number 14!"

 

"Cool! You know you just completed my collection, right? This is the greatest... besides a magnum!"

 

"Of course! Go grab the first piece of cake before everyone eats the whole thing."

 

Alphonse Almodovar was easily the harshest person in the vault. Maybe the other kids made fun of his name when he was younger, maybe his mother dropped him when he was a baby, or maybe he was accidentally exposed to radiation from the reactor. Whatever the reason, he had a very low tolerance for anything that wasn't critical to the vault's survival. A young boy in particular named Michael easily managed to upset him on several occasions.

 

What angered Alphonse so much was that Amata and Michael had become so taken with each other. He knew Michael was most definitely his father's son, and bound to be a challenger to the normal, safe life here in the vault. That was an influence he hoped to keep away from his daughter. She was the only one he could one day trust to run the vault after him; she needed to be ready to enforce the rules set down by the Vault-Tec corporation.

 

Michael's offenses were numerous: insubordination, trespassing, and the occasional fight were to be expected of any young child locked in an underground facility. However, he had one particular note in his record that no one in the vault could match. It happened about a year and a half ago...

 

The sound wasn't loud, but it was more than enough to awaken the Overseer. He crawled out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and opened them to find that his daughter was standing in front of him with both eyes wide open.

 

"Did you hear that daddy?"

 

"Yes, stay here while I go take a look." Quickly stepping out the door, he proceeded past the other recently awaken residents and followed the smell of smoke down one level. Somehow he was only half surprised to find Michael at the center of the mess, but he had no clue as to how the heavy security door that had been stuck closed for three days was now open.

 

Officer Mack approached the overseer with a shaking voice and a wild look in his eyes. "You're not going to believe this sir. The kid hacked the lock on the high-security storage room, stole a chunk of blasting explosives, and managed to lay the perfect charge on the door here. He opened it flawlessly, no damage to the door at all, just blew the hydraulic seals."

 

Given that the boy was only eight, the overseer sent him back to his quarters with orders to report to his office first thing in the morning. Unable to sleep, he instead focused on having a speech planned out by morning. Unfortunately for the overseer, the profanity-laced tirade never came to pass, as two men arrived shortly before Michael, each with their own plea for mercy on the boy.

 

Stanley first arrived in the overseer's office only five minutes after the overseer himself had unlocked the door and sat down. Stanley explained that he had told the inquisitive child the day before how he was going to try blowing open the door as a measure of last resort, and that Michael was only a kid trying to help. Officer Gomez, who had been the first officer on scene that night, showed up mere moments after Stanley was done talking. He claimed that this act showed how Michael was a prodigy, and that the best way to stop repeat incidents was not harsh punishment, but rather giving him some kind of one on one training outside the classroom, even with GOAT exams so many years away.

 

With two of the vault's best people on his case, he felt he had no choice but to grant their request and assign a more lenient punishment: forty hours of probationary service. It was a decision he came to regret, as the obvious penalty for stealing and blowing things up was working for the security officers. He formed friendships quickly with most of the officers, and their attitudes toward the young delinquent slowly turned around. They made him an apprentice of sorts, teaching him the basics of combat and firearms, not to mention what he didn't already know about explosives. A comment by one officer a few weeks prior to the birthday party infuriated Alphonse, as the usually stern officer Kendall had said "Six years from now, I know that kid is gonna start out as a new officer."

 

"I'll be damned if that kid is going to carry a weapon in my vault, especially with my daughter constantly hanging on to him" said the overseer to his empty room. Showing up at this little brat's birthday was the last thing that he wanted to do, but it was tradition for the overseer to directly present every young child with his or her own pip-boy 3000 on their tenth birthday. As well, Amata had been begging him to come to the party, and the last thing he wanted to do was drive another stake between the two of them because of this little nuisance.

 

Walking down the hallway and through the door without so much as a smile on his face, he interrupted every conversation in the room with his neatly prepared speech. "Congratulations young man. I don't have to tell you how special today is. Down here in the vault, turning ten means you begin your official responsibilities, and for that you'll need this. Your very own pip-boy 3000. Get used to it, taking it on or off will take about fifteen minutes, and should only be done by an authorized technician. You'll be receiving your first work assignment tomorrow, be sure to sync up with the terminal in your quarters."

 

With no other words, he handed over the pip-boy, turned to several other adults, and began yet another of his lecturing conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with the birthday party. Maybe it wasn't what his daughter had in mind, but he had shown up, and he'd be damned if he was going to change his mind about a child that caused so much trouble, even for his own daughter.

 

"Sorry about that Mike. He just doesn't seem to care about anything, don't take it personal."

 

"Don't worry Amata. But seriously, you know I don't like to be called Mike. I'd rather have your father beat me with a pipe."

 

"Double sorry Michael. Come on, let's grab some cake already."

 

As they walked over to the counter, the robot Andy announced "Attention everyone! It is time to cut the cake!" To the horror of all watching, he raised one of his arms, powered up his buzz saw attachment, and began to bring it to bear on the cake. A suddenly silenced room only echoed a single protest of "Andy! No!" from Amata before the saw splattered the cake over most of the room.

 

The room was deathly still. Andy managed to utter "I'm terribly sorry sir" in his unique British accent before most of the room burst into laughter, including the young birthday boy. Everyone turned back to their conversations as Stanley said "Andy, next time you cut a cake, use a smaller blade please! Sorry about that Michael, I thought I had all the bugs fixed in his cuisine programming."

 

"No need for that Stanley. I know you're overworked on most of the vault's maintenance. Plus, seeing as how you're in charge of most of the equipment, I get the feeling that you're the reason I got the 3000 A model. You always said they were more durable and reliable, right? I've got the best pip-boy in the vault thanks to you."

 

"Not to mention the best hat!" Stanley said, as he whipped out of nowhere a pre-war baseball cap. Before Michael could say anything, Stanley had knocked the party hat off Michael's head, placed it on his head, and said "Play ball! Maybe I'll find you a mitt in the storerooms for your next birthday."

 

"Thanks Stanley! One question though, how do I download movies to this thing?"

 

"Clint Eastwood and Rambo will be the death of you" he said with a smile. "I'll show you later, get back to the party you little rascal."

 

Amata had managed to wander off and was trying to get her dad to join in the festivities, so Michael decided to wander around a bit. He got absolutely no intelligent conversation out of Butch and Wally, but at least Paul had managed to cough up a happy birthday when the other two weren't looking. Amata had strangely forgotten to invite Susie or Christine for reasons unknown to his immature mind, so his choices of fellow children to talk to were virtually expended. Eventually he found himself at the table where the overseer was. He saw the look of doom coming from him, and decided it would be best to not wander past and try to talk with Amata. Trying his best to be polite, he struck up a conversation with the overseer, even knowing he would more than likely be baited into a word fight. "Hey, thanks for coming, I know you're a busy guy. Did you help Amata with this?"

 

"No, I have much more important matters to attend to. I am honestly surprised that I have spent so long in this room so far. You really puzzle me as to how you can attract so much attention from my daughter, considering all the trouble you constantly get into."

 

"Hey, what can I say Alphonse? I'm a charming guy, with an "explosive" personality." Michael made sure to purposely rhyme the words 'say' and 'Alphons-ay' in a sing-song fashion, all while displaying the typical scoundrel smile he always used. Purposely reminding the man who ruled the vault with an iron fist about an incident that involved breaking and entering, theft, and high explosives might seem foolish to some. Teasing him about his name would probably be describable as a death wish, given how no one in the vault, even Amata, addressed him by his first name. However, this particular ten year old had managed to get away with a lot over the past few years, and it had given him a feeling of invincibility when dealing with the overseer.

 

He snapped back to reality as the Overseer began to harshly address him. "Very funny Michael, but remember that what I decide happens in this vault, and I can assure you that you're one offense from being separated from the rest of the vault, most especially my daughter, for the foreseeable future."

 

Michael did his best to hide both his anger and fear. Though only eight years old as of that night, the overseer's first idea for punishing him that morning way back had been several weeks in the vault security office's detention cell. He sheepishly smiled as he thought to himself "Dad's right, I've got to stop picking a fight with him. He's got way more ammo." Wandering back over to some of the other party guests seemed like a good idea. One table away was the perfect distraction, Mrs. Palmer, also know to Michael as Grandma Palmer.

 

"Hey grandma! Thanks for showing up."

 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, be it radioactive or clean as the day before the bombs dropped. I have a present you might like!"

 

"Oh, you didn't have to get me anything! You've been doing so much for me already."

 

"Fiddlesticks! What ten year old doesn't like a present. Anyway, I baked a whole batch of my special sweetrolls yesterday. I traded most of them for a few work credits, but I saved you one. And I bet you'll like it even more now that Andy demolished your cake."

 

"All right! I was a little hungry. Maybe I'll split it with Amata."

 

"My my my! You're so young, but I can tell one day you two will be the perfect couple."

 

Michael made a fake groaning sound with a smile, and took three steps away before Butch stepped in front of him. "I'm hungry, and the stupid robot destroyed the cake. Give me that!"

 

A quick look around showed that no one, not even Mrs. Palmer, had even noticed Butch. Michael thought it over for a second, before finally saying "You know what? This is mine. F**k off."

 

Now although Butch had not caught anyone's ear, a ten year old swearing was enough to catch a few people's attention, including a giggling Amata and a rather angry Overseer. After a few seconds, the words "You gonna just take that man?" came from Wally, and Butch decided to say "You're gonna be sorry punk!" before swinging at him.

 

Butch had next to no idea what he was doing, while Michael had managed to learn quite a bit about hand to hand combat after the training the officers had given him. A duck and somersault placed him several meters away from and behind Butch, where he then proceeded to set his sweetroll on a table and place himself in a boxer's stance before Butch could even turn around.

 

Butch yelled some kind of crazed war cry and ran toward Michael. At the last second, Gomez stepped in between the two and Butch ran headfirst into the officer's security vest. Impacting the ceramic plates was too much for Butch, and he crumpled to the floor sobbing. Grabbing Butch off the ground by the arm, Gomez said "Just what do you think you're doing? Try that again and your mother will hear about this."

 

"No she won't." Michael quickly responded. Butch had made him mad, and he was more than ready to step down a level. "His mom will be so drunk that she won't understand a word you say."

 

"You bastard!" Butch yelled, struggling against Gomez's grip. Gomez quickly pulled him out into the hall and gave him one last warning before both stepped back into the room, an angry grimace on Butch and a strangely mellow face on officer Gomez. "Wow, I can't believe what I just saw!" said Amata, who had somehow managed to sneak behind Michael during the incident. "Did he even get a chance to hurt you?"

 

"No, but he did give me a good idea. Maybe I shouldn't keep this sweetroll to myself, maybe I should share it with someone...someone who did something nice for me already..."

 

Amata quickly snatched it off the table, ripped it in half, and handed the bigger chunk to Michael. "Alright, now we're even. But promise me you won't beat him after this party is over."

 

Michael raised his hand as if he were on trial and said "I solemnly swear to do no harm to Butch today. But no promises about tomorrow."

 

James was the first person Amata had told about her idea for a surprise party. Obviously he wanted to give his son a great party every year, but something special was in store for Michael this time around. Several months ago, his assistant Jonas had found a BB gun in one of the vault storerooms, and after a little restoration it was in perfect shape, minus the spring in the loading mechanism. Fortunately, James had the perfect idea for how to acquire such an item.

 

James' days before his son had been born had easily made him the most seasoned man in the vault. He had learned a great many things, some of which the other vault residents wouldn't be happy to know about. Given the increasing tendency for Michael to get in trouble with Butch, it seemed a good idea to take away the switchblade Butch always paraded around with. A simple two minute conversation in a hallway with young Butch about his next check up was more than what James needed to pickpocket the switchblade, which turned out to contain the perfect replacement spring for the BB gun.

 

Though Jonas had told James that he was worried about Michael possessing any kind of weapon given his fascination with old movies and the vault security guards, James decided that it was a perfect way to introduce his son to a gun. Considering that Michael would one day most likely be a security guard himself, he thought that it would be best to teach him respect for the deadly power he one day might hold. He grew worried, however, seeing how easily his son could be provoked. Fortunately, officer Gomez had faster reflexes than him and had stopped Butch. He had seen Michael training with the officer and knew that the young child might be able to take on bigger opponents, to say nothing of people his own age. The palm strikes, chokeholds, and body locks he knew could easily put Butch in the infirmary, which would have likely been the last straw for the overseer.

 

A burst of static from the room's intercom panel was enough to rouse him from his thoughts. "Hey doc, are you there? I've got everything set up down here."

 

"Yes Jonas, we'll be right down." There was no more time for pondering, it was time for a decision. "Michael, come over here for a minute." And there it was. He was encouraging his son to begin a life of violence. "What am I saying?" he thought to himself. "He's a ten year old boy. It's a BB gun. What am I worrying about?"

 

"Hey dad, what's going on?"

 

Once again pulled from his thoughts by the surrounding world, he told his son "Why don't you head down to the lower level. Jonas and I have a surprise for you. I'll be down in a minute, go on without me."

 

His dad had always been an introspective sort, so this event was no real difference from how he normally acted. Mike walked out into the corridor without a second thought. Unfortunately for him, Beatrice was at the end of the hallway, and there was no other way around her. With a forced grin on his face, he walked toward the mentally unstable lady.

 

"Oh hello dear, I'm sorry I'm late to your party."

 

"It's OK, I have to step out for a moment anyway, so... see you!"

 

"Wait, let me give you your present now!" She handed him a folded piece of paper, which he slowly opened. Beatrice was well known throughout the vault for being eccentric, to say the least, so it really wasn't much of a surprise to see the paper contained a rather long poem which seemed to have almost nothing to do with his birthday.

 

"Thank you, I will treasure this always" he said through the obviously fake grin on his face. It was almost sad for him to see her in this state. Most of the other kids made fun of her, and Butch would sometimes even try to confuse her with odd questions. His dad had said that she was never quite right when she was younger, and her worsening condition was what happened to some people when they became old. He responded "But isn't there a cure? Something you can do?" James' response had simply been "Every problem has multiple solutions, but sometimes none of them are good solutions." Little did the man know how this phrase would comfort his son one day.

 

Running along the main corridor, he stopped at the stairs just in time to hear the overseer speaking with another of the security guards one level up. "Give them a few more minutes, then clear them out and send everyone back to work. The only reason I even stopped in is because my daughter is so taken with that brat." Shrugging his shoulders for no one, he brushed off yet another harsh comment from the overseer and started down the stairs. He ended up finding Jonas down near the reactor, quickly closing a crate he had been looking into. "What are you doing down here? Kids aren't allowed on this level."

 

Jonas had been his dad's assistant for years, and Michael trusted him like a brother. He knew that Jonas was joking around. "Aw, cut it out Jonas. I'm ten now, which is definitely old enough to walk down some steps. Besides, I heard the intercom. Dad sent me down here, and now I'm getting some kind of surprise."

 

"True, true, and true, but wait a moment. I think your dad will want to be here."

 

Just then, as if summoned by the very words Jonas had just spoken, James walked down the steps, around the corner, and right over to Jonas. Grabbing the handle on the crate, he asked "Are you ready for your surprise?", to which Michael responded "Dad, I'm ready. Open it!"

 

Opening the crate slowly, James reached inside and quickly produced an item Michael had thought he might never get to see, let alone have. "Ta-da! Your very own BB gun!" James said, presenting the rifle to him. A slack jawed Michael only stared at the present, unable to think about reaching out and grabbing it. Since he was young, he had wanted to get his hands on one of the guns in the vault. This might not have had the same punch as a 10mm pistol, but it was a gun, and that was all a violence-obsessed child needed before saying in a barely audible voice Reaching out at the speed of a snail, he managed to utter "Th-Thank you! I can't believe this! This is awesome!"

 

"And that's not all" said Jonas, swinging open the door behind him. It appeared to be just another dimly lit storeroom, but the other side of the room held several crude swiveling targets mounted on poles. "We decided setting this up was the perfect way to keep you from shooting that gun in the hallways. The overseer probably wouldn't like this, so stay down here when you're shooting."

 

The sight of the targets snapped Michael out of his daze. "Sweet!" he yelled, seizing the gun as he ran into the room. Suddenly stopping halfway to the makeshift shooting range, he sighted the gun briefly before letting off a shot into each target. PING! PING! PING! Unfortunately, this new noise awoke a radroach that had been sleeping under a pile of junk in the corner of the room. The vault was not perfectly sealed, and several irradiated roaches, or radroaches as the vault citizens had dubbed them, occasionally managed to find their way in. Unlike normal roaches from before the great war, this particular species grew to the size of a house cat, causing major problems on occasion, especially when a person was alone and unarmed.

 

Officer Gomez always told him how he had run into a radroach when he was only nine, and how he held the insect off with a chair until another child had gotten the attention of a security officer. He often told Michael how at that moment he knew he was going to become a security officer. Since Michael was much better armed than the young Gomez, and had already convinced himself that he was the perfect vault guardian, he had the radroach dead in his sights before either adult could utter the words "Look out! It's a radroach!"

 

While the two adults were busy reaching for any weapon they could find, Michael let off a shot directly into what he thought was probably the creature's forehead. The hiss from the roach, as well as the yellowish liquid flowing out of the small wound, was more than enough to encourage Michael to fire three more shots into the radroach, causing its legs to give way as it fell to the floor. With one final twitch from it wings, the insect let out a dying cry before seizing up in the strangely quick version of rigor mortis that these roaches possessed. Turning around to find Jonas holding a section of pipe and his dad holding a sledgehammer, he declared loudly "OK, I totally destroyed that radroach. Now, what else do I get to kill?"

 

Both adults heaved a sigh of relief, and placed their weapons back where they had found them. "You better not say anything like that near the overseer" said James, "or he'll know something's up and search your quarters for that gun. Come on, let's get a picture in to remember this day by. Jonas, would you do me and my son the honor?"

 

"Sure doc." He picked up a camera off one of the shelves, which somehow was loaded with film and in perfect order despite the coating of dust on most of the objects in the rest of the room. Had his father really planned this all in advance? Had he maybe even trapped the radroach on purpose, knowing that the best thing that could possibly happen would be for him to get a chance to really use the gun? Such questions were quickly suppressed by his father's hand on his shoulder and the camera's flash.

 

At that point, he was too excited anyway to really care one way or the other. He was ten years old. He had gotten a pip-boy, a baseball cap, and a BB gun for his birthday. He had bragging rights when it came to officer Gomez's story. He had even managed to impress Amata and mouth off to Butch with no consequences whatsoever. Today was definitely going to be on his list of best days for years to come.

 

Duh duh duh! An extremely long rendition of one day in the life of the vault dweller named Michael. How will things turn out for his teenage self in the coming years? Either move on to the next chapter, assuming I've already written it, or wait a minute and go make a sandwich. Your choice. Long stories usually mean you'll need a snack.

[Ragitsu]

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down payment

[Ragitsu]

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• Magnetic clip
  
• 3.5mm adapter
  
• Owner's manual
  

[Ragitsu]

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Interested? Send me an e-mail, and let's talk.

[Ragitsu]

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http://www.imdb.com/

[Ragitsu]

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4402#search

[Ragitsu]

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There are times I wish they could both be for something sane and decent.

[Ragitsu]

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The thing that pisses me off about Steam is that damn near EVERY game now has it pre-bundled, and the ONLY way for you to play is through Steam.

 

 

I remember the good ol' days when you could just pop in a game, install it, and play it right away without having to deal with some other bullsh*t program you don't even want to use.

[Ragitsu]

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4-16-2011 Victory

[Ragitsu]

Re: Ctrl+V

 

I have it, if you are still interested.

[Certified]

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Panel 1 [splash – Half Page]: Water pools in a long crack in the concrete of a sidewalk. It reflects the city around it.

Caption: Neon reflects off oily water. Chemical runoff from the Laundromat on off the boys muses as he sees his own reflection come into view.

 

Caption: There were five. All of them kids, young, hardly innocent but young, and that was enough. They thought they owned the world, or at least they would someday.

 

Panel 2 [splash – Quarter page (Bar)]: Same shot of large puddle. Group of kids passes though sending ways distorting colors.

Caption: It was just another step. Walking blindly down a street they had known their entire lives.

 

Panel 3 [splash]: Black foam rising from the center of the ripples in the puddle.

Caption: The water boils under their feet. None of them notice. This small act, none of them saw what was really happening.

 

Panel 4: Black out.

Caption: We were young and we didn’t realize we were already dead.

[Ragitsu]

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Plastic Goth

[Ragitsu]

Re: Ctrl+V

 

2154877]