#static bitching

[thestaticpulse-blog]

Getting nearly blasted by an idiot having a damn fit over how anyone pale = Drac is not the best way to start your morning.

I get that's sort of what I do, but I think most of the natives know not to shoot if I'm coming back from Battery.

These new kids....are they coming off some worse pills than we used to get? Starting to wonder if they're not getting dosed to the point of insane and then dumped out here on purpose because they're more trigger-happy  than usual.

Or maybe I just need a tan to survive anymore.

Hell.

[thestaticpulse-blog]

"What's fun about walking from Zone 2 to 3? Basically nothing.

Unless you have some sort of twisted fetish for the sun melting the skin off your bones; then it's just the shiniest thing ever.

If Cya can't fix the damn radio when I get there I may just cry, pathetically, and I'm man enough to admit it."

The stream of muttered words, if he was alone he usually was talking to himself, kept him company while his sneakers drug furrows in the sands along the side for the graying roadway; more of a risk to walk there but walking itself was a risk.

And unlike every other Zonerunner, or at least it seemed to be the case, he had no talent in taking a piece of junk car and making it into something that would actually lumber down the road.

So a nice little stroll through the sands it was; he'd been around home for weeks as it was and needed supplies, neede to get out and roam, before he became a total hermit. And most of all he needed his radio fixed, before the silence drove him insane.

It was worth the risk.