The girl's hand reached up, silently obeying the on-screen request. With another flicker, the screen changed to a well-groomed man sitting behind a large desk. He was dressed in a white lab coat, though underneath he wore a business suit. His posture was near perfect and his presence, even through a recording, radiated a call for respect and admiration.
"Hello, unit zero-zero-five-four. If you're seeing this, then that obviously means you've woken up. Due to a systemic malfunction, the C-batch of clones, the batch in which you were born, were prematurely cancelled. As you may have experienced, the latch mechanism on the C-tanks were al
"Identification code C14, clone unit number zero-zero-five-four. Good morning."
It was hardly morning, but the computer didn't know that. It was a preprogrammed response chosen as one of many to inspire warmth and acceptance in the freshly hatched.
"Your initial disorrientation will pass soon. Please pause a moment to take in your surroundings."
The recording continued playing, though the tank remained silent, the girl still.
"Do you have your bearings? Good. Welcome to the world in which you now live. You will notice several other clones around you. These are your batch-mates. Please take a moment to regard them with kindness. T
The inevitable nice guy, fire hose ready,
Another day of damage control.
Lost in fires of origins well known,
Failing to see the bigger picture.
Am I really helping? Am I really stopping anything?
I douse the flames, trying to save those innocent few,
Yet I still see that damage those painful licks have caused.
I rush in, guns blazing, trying to save someone,
Yet in the end, am I really saving anyone?
The fires still go on, the fire starter remains.
I can't bring myself to end his reign,
Still he goes on, fire after fire.
Friends are lost, friends are found,
I dig through the rubble to see what I can salvage.
With my head held
The girl's hand reached up, silently obeying the on-screen request. With another flicker, the screen changed to a well-groomed man sitting behind a large desk. He was dressed in a white lab coat, though underneath he wore a business suit. His posture was near perfect and his presence, even through a recording, radiated a call for respect and admiration.
"Hello, unit zero-zero-five-four. If you're seeing this, then that obviously means you've woken up. Due to a systemic malfunction, the C-batch of clones, the batch in which you were born, were prematurely cancelled. As you may have experienced, the latch mechanism on the C-tanks were al
"Identification code C14, clone unit number zero-zero-five-four. Good morning."
It was hardly morning, but the computer didn't know that. It was a preprogrammed response chosen as one of many to inspire warmth and acceptance in the freshly hatched.
"Your initial disorrientation will pass soon. Please pause a moment to take in your surroundings."
The recording continued playing, though the tank remained silent, the girl still.
"Do you have your bearings? Good. Welcome to the world in which you now live. You will notice several other clones around you. These are your batch-mates. Please take a moment to regard them with kindness. T
The inevitable nice guy, fire hose ready,
Another day of damage control.
Lost in fires of origins well known,
Failing to see the bigger picture.
Am I really helping? Am I really stopping anything?
I douse the flames, trying to save those innocent few,
Yet I still see that damage those painful licks have caused.
I rush in, guns blazing, trying to save someone,
Yet in the end, am I really saving anyone?
The fires still go on, the fire starter remains.
I can't bring myself to end his reign,
Still he goes on, fire after fire.
Friends are lost, friends are found,
I dig through the rubble to see what I can salvage.
With my head held
Current Residence: Wherever I happen to lay my head. Favourite genre of music: Classic Rock Favourite photographer: Aubrey Sapero Operating System: Windows 7 Favourite cartoon character: Dr. Zoidburg and Bugs Bunny Personal Quote: Knowledge and love are the only two ambitions I have. Don't stand in the way of either.
Well, it had to happen. I forgot I had a Deviant Art account. However, now I'm back and ready to supply the two people that follow this with new reading material! A new project has fallen into my lap (it didn't fall far, as it came from my head), and I've decided that this one was worth pursuing, more so than the other countless projects I've started but failed to finish.
It's called The Monstrosities of Doctor Oswald Zerga. It's loosely based on The Wizard of Oz and sticks to a sort of...let's say bio-punk theme. It follows the story of four failed experiments: a clone girl, the only surviving member of her batch; a patchwork man, comp
Well, I just realized that only two of my journals don't start with the word "well", followed by a comma. For some reason, I seem to be addicted to that introductory word and punctuation. It seems like a solid opener to me. I think I'll stick with it.
As for actual posty news, I've went ahead and added what one might technically consider...a fan-fic. And while I have always vehemently been against fan-fictions, I was quite enticed by the pre-existing material. That's right, Borderlands. I have yet to see a fully devoted Borderlands fan-fiction, and while I'm slightly upset with myself, I've decided to try and continue this project, pro
...but I finally got more stuff up. Not that great, but I have to keep up with someone, otherwise she'll hold it over my head. And we can't have that. Especially since I'm rather tall, and it might be hard for her to hold things over my head. That and she might drop it.
You know who you are!
I was going to post an actual good photo of him- but it turns out, Sanzy deleted it by mistake. So until I buy a better Camera, this is the best I could do.
But the flowers were nice, right? I know I should have centered it better- but we were in a rush to catch the ferrie.