shadowchan

logging into shadowchan
please solve captcha
"tenochitlan trogs"
captcha accepted
uploading "simforce"
▲
▲ ▲
uploading excerpt from " "My life in the Shadows" by Fineas Edward Line" "

"I fled seattle in a busted up van that I bought off a humanis policlub member that liked to whack it to gnome porn and beat his girlfriend in his offtime. I paid too much for the van frankly but I didn't have time to haggle and I needed the jackass to think he was getting the better part of the deal as he was a part of my get away plan.

I planted some pay data on his computer that turned up some serious red flags when he began his nightly torrenting of the latest yakuza bunraku vids. Yakuza shocktroopers kicked down the door [embed tridrecording "HumanisInterrogation"] and tortured him for a few hours, I faked a family call to his girlfriend so she wasn't present and didn't wind up as spare parts when the yakuza finished torturing her boyfriend to death.

the van broke down on the outskirts of the metroplex, I spent 3 days trying to repair the thing before a group of Go-Gangers stumbled onto me. It was rough going for a patch but my fluent Or'zet saved me from (too much) of a beating and I actually got some help repairing that shitheap of a vehicle from the gangers. Spent the better part of a couple nights going through their initiation rituals. They called themselves horny-toads after a species of reptile native to the North American Desert Climates. I dunno where they got it but they had some nasty drek they called Red-Eye that would make your eyes bleed the whole ritual involved reciting something in Or'zet while your eyes were bleeding and you'd wind up with a name associated with whatever you were talking about. I wound up reciting bits from Macbeth and got the moniker "Trouble" from that witches line that everyone remembers. They gave me a jacket, painted up my van and loaded the back with enough drugs to make someone a small fortune. I mentioned that I wasn't welcome in Seattle, they told me it didn't matter we were headed for the NAN.

In retrospect I could've chosen better friends.

The days that followed were a surreal haze of substance abuse, the odd physical confrontation (which half the time turned out to be some weird form of courtship ritual), and occasionally a helterskelter run for your life against things you previously did not know existed. If you’ve ever looked into a history chip you’d know North America use to have millions more people than it currently houses, all those old towns and cities are just left lying around. Gangs, Ghouls, and misfits of every size and shape take advantage of that. There are no real formal texts on what you encounter out in the wilderness of North America, there are reasons for this.

For starters you have to be fucking crazy or desperate to go out there, secondly once you go out there you need to pay attention and put some effort into recording your experiences so they’ll be of use to other people. Most people who have those kinds of skills sell them either to Corps or any number of criminal syndicates. I’ve got no interest in that, call me a ‘Hood but my interest lies in letting people actually know what lies outside the cities and how to survive it.

First rule: never leave the cities in a motorcycle. No I don’t care if it’s a pinto with that weather canopy with four sidecars and an autocannon that somehow defies all rational laws of physics and engineering you only leave in a bike if you’re in a group and someone has a larger vehicle that holds supplies. You won’t find any stuffer shacks out on the cross country roads and I doubt you’ll have a survivalist who can live off the land either.

Second rule: conserve ammo, fuel, and food on no less than 3 occasions a super massive awakened armadillo weighing in at twelve tons rolled into a ball and chased our little caravan for multiple miles. We faced manastorms, were accosted by ghouls (feral and sapient) and occasionally face NAN military patrols. You don’t know what you’re going to encounter, especially in those busted little ghost towns that line the road, be extra cautious.

Third Rule: do not make a life out of travelling cross country roads unless you feel like dying young or have some kind of serious advantage no one else has. Pay the extra cash, have your vehicle shipped by air or sea like everyone else and only go overland if you have a good reason, there’s bug spirits out there, shedim, older stranger things that we don’t have words for. Travelling long distance across the former USA or big places like Eastern Europe are not a good idea.”


▲             ▲
▲ ▲ “NewFag”  ▲ ▲
“So is this guy full of shit or what?”