Space Reclamation

So foreword here to explain, this story is going to be for the assignment “Different Point Of View – Same Place”.Ā Which says to write out a movie scene from a different character’s point of view. Well since we need to do have our characters intersect with other characters, I thought this would be cool to warp a bit and instead of doing a movie scene, I’d use another classmate’s story (In this case, it is my radioshow group mate’s intro story for his character Donnie Rejj,

Cyborg Space Cowboy… I couldn’t resist.

. The idea being how would a sci fi rendition of my character go about his business upon arriving at the scene. I figured in the vastness of space, where a single man can be hard pressed to be noticed, to keep up his mortuary mystery he’d need to be part of a bigger mysterious organization that can have myths around it.

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Each step CrawlstonĀ took deeper into the station caused thicker and thicker fog to condense on his facemask’s eye lenses until they were little more than white plates. Unlike the miners who had uneasily greeted him at the air lock, his enviro-suit was visibly archaic, using materials and technology not seen on a modern suit in dozens of years with a gaunt, almost skull-like facemask that looked like something warriors of the Great War would’ve worn millenia ago on Earth.Ā It lacked the modern conveniences of the miner’s suits like naturally fog resistant glass, even so, he seemed unphased by the near opaque wall of condensation on the lenses as he purposefully strode into the empty facility. Only a hand torchĀ he carried with him lit the dank interior of the building. Despite protocol being for a miner to escort him to the bodies, none volunteered and instead all skulked around the ship they arrived on, talking to each other on private comms channels that Richard was unable to tune into.

Crawlston already knew where his objectivesĀ were to be located and went directly to his first task. It was said to be a bar, Ā but Crawlston had seen drug dens with more style and character than it. A barrenĀ room of steel walls that reflected his torch’s light wherever he showed it and beaten up, semi rusty stools greeted him, but he ignored them all, instead instantly locking his vision on the giant concrete slab that served as the bar’s counter, where a man was slumped over, almost like a drunkard save for the rouge pool that was spread out on the counter and dribblingĀ downĀ thru the grated floor.

Without wasting a moment, Crawlston approached the corpse, finally taking a moment to clear the dog from his lenses before bending over to inspect the body.

“Incision, base of skull, two point one centimeters wide, five point eight centimeters deep. Severance of spinal chord likely cause of death”

Nobody was around to hear him, but the auto-mnemonic Ā electronics device implanted into his skull immediatly recorded all of his statements for later study. He reached into a pocket on one of his hips and pulled out six circular pads, each about the size of his palm and the thickness of a Ā bottlecap. With practiced hands he applied a disk to each limb, the man’s back, and the man’s head. Upon placing the final one, all six lit up red and a shimmering field encased the dead barkeeper. With a casual wave of his hand, the six pads started humming and lifted the barkeeper from his slouch, gently leaning him back into a reclining position. Where the blood had been slowly oozing out the back of his neck and his mouth, it had ceased within the field. Another hand wave as he walked out of the bar and the dead man started drifting towards himĀ as he made his way to his ship.

Beyond the airlock, the miners were still standing glumly around, mutely refusing to lift their heads to look at the undertaker or his freshest charge. They all knew the procedure in the event of deaths such as these, up high sends an undertaker, body disappears, nobody speaks of it or else ‘accidents’ happen. Once the man was gone, they’d get life support back on and a new engineer and barkeeper would be sent out. The less they thought about it, and the less they questioned it, the better.

The body gently floated up the ramp to Crawlston’s ship as Crawlston watched. Once it was securely on board, he turned around and walked back in to find his next objective, a Mister Danny.

Time Traveling Train

For this assignment, Lindsey M‘s character Danny and my own SallyĀ  “emailed” each other a little sequel to the radio show they participated in. It consists of a time traveling train and what’s going on back in Tombstone, Arizona. Read below to see what happening now in that crazy western town! This assignment was worth 4 stars and Lindsey and myself worked on it at the same time altogether.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are they now?

Howdy Danny,

It’s Sally here on this new thing called a computer. I’m sending you this e-mail because I don’t know where the heck I am. I ended up in the north in a place called Virginia and I have been told the year is 2016. Remember that crazy scientist who kept saying he was going ā€œback to the futureā€?! Well, I somehow ended up on his crazy train and am now in 2016! I thought I saw you the other day at a bar I went to but it just happened to be a stranger. I hope you get this at some point in time. How is everyone back in Tombstone? Especially after Johnny’s passing, I know that took a toll on most of the town. Keep me updated!

-Sally Winderson

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Where are they now?

Hello, Sally!

How on earth did you get to 2016? I received your note from some bird that flew in, and it’s sitting here now I think waiting for a response. I don’t know how you could possibly be writing to me, but it’s good to hear from you. I wasn’t sure where you’d gone out of nowhere! People have been asking, too. They’re mighty worried about losing you so soon after Johnny. Here’s hoping you have a quick journey back.

Everyone is quiet here, maybe a bit more chipper than when you left, but it’s still almost unbearable. I started working for Riza recently, but I think I’m going to head out of town soon. Her saloon is lovely, but just not the same as before. Hopefully the town brightens up again in time for the local festivals, but it’s a long way until then.

Anyway, Riza’s been busy as ever. I don’t know what it is about you saloon types but you don’t seem to sit still. She was kind to let me work for her after everything. I hear Bonnie Sue and Agnus and the sheriffs officially locked up the one who got Johnny. Still hard to believe it was that crazy woman all along. Talie comes by pretty often to make sure we are taken care of, always offering help. She’s been asking for you like crazy, too. I’ll be glad to give her something next time she comes around!

Will you be back soon? Are you with that crazy scientist? What is 2016 like? (I keep checking to see if you really went that far forward; part of me still thinks you’re pulling my leg, Sally. This is crazy.)

Best wishes,

Danny

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are they now?

Danny,

I am most definitely in 2016. There are all these fancy automobiles on roads covered with what looks like hard, black soot. And like I said before, I’m on this fancy letter-writing device called a computer. I don’t understand how these are getting to you by bird but the ā€œinternetā€ (I still don’t understand what it is) is really big so who knows! They also have small versions called cell phones, not quite sure how those work either… But besides all of that, last I remember of Tombstone was being at the bar with my good friend Meg. She had just returned from a trip to the North the day after Johnny passed. We went to the bar when I didn’t have to work and decided to celebrate her birthday late. All I remember was Riza pouring more shots for me and Meg trying to get me to go back north with her. I kept refusing because Tombstone is my home! Last I remember was a train at the most random hour carrying me off into the night with the conductor being some man with wild, grey hair and Meg asleep next to me. Since I arrived to this year I haven’t been able to find either of them. I do have a lead as to where I could find them though. There’s a bar, just happens to be down the street from this little house I am staying in. It’s called the Conductor. I’m hoping to find the conductor of the train I ended up on and see if he can take me home. It’s a shame to hear you wanting to leave! I do hope you’ll stay until the festivals are over! And tell Tallie I went on a trip to clear my mind and that I’ll be back soon! I’ll send more information as I figure out what to do!

-Sally

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Where are they now?

Dear Sally,

I know you’re not one to spin stories, but I am still rather perplexed. I suppose you really did get my letter in your computer if you actually responded. Well, I decided to stick around until we figure out what happened to you at least, maybe until the festivals. My next destination hasn’t been quite mapped out yet, and I haven’t really told anyone else about it, either, so we will see.

Talie seems satisfied with your answer, although she seemed upset that you were sending me letters and not her, but I don’t know what I could do for her on that front. At any rate, I’ve been looking around here as well to see if there’s any way to find out what happened. I think I saw that scientist in Riza’s saloon the other night, talking to someone else about his crazy ideas, but I didn’t get the chance to approach him before he was gone and away. He seems to only exist within the saloons, which is unfortunate — lately the only time I’ve been in one is for work. It’s my night off, though, so I’m going to see if I can find that sneaky fellow. I might also ask around the train station if there’s anything about trains passing at unscheduled hours or anything similarly peculiar. I will let you know as soon as I can if something comes up. In the meantime, please let me know if you find anything out yourself.

Best wishes,

Danny

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are they now?

Danny,

Good news!!! I found Meg at a nearby store. She knows where the crazy conductor is and we’re going to meet him tonight to see if he can get us home. Turns out she had one too many of Riza’s shots and mistook his experiment train for her train to Boston! I hopefully will be home in the next two days, if not, please split up all of my stuff in Tombstone between all the Gals of the West. I’m hoping the end result is not that and that I will arrive safely at the station on the 10th platform but at this point I don’t have a clue. I will write you right before we leave so you know when to expect me home!

-Sally

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Where are they now?

Dear Sally,

I’m glad to hear this! I hadn’t found anything on my end, so I had been extremely worried. I was just about to write you and find something else when your letter came. Everyone will be happy to know you will be returning soon and in good health. I will let everyone know tonight of your plans! Please let me know if there is anything you need on my end for your travels. I hope everything goes well. I’m sure you will have some wonderful stories to tell upon your return, too. I simply cannot wait to hear them!

Best wishes,

Danny

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Where are they now?

Danny,

Well, I’m leaving for home today. The crazy conductor, his name is Doc, he promised to take us back in his ā€œtime traveling trainā€. It sounds crazy but if you go to the 10th platform at the train station we should arrive around 10:30 a.m. I promise I’m not making this up! If for some reason I’m not back by high noon call it quits and just divvy all my stuff up. Hope to see you real soon. Also when I get back, remind me to never had Riza’s shots anymore.

-Sally

 

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Where are they now?

Dear Sally,

I’m not sure if you’ll get this letter, but I hope your return is safe and comfortable! I will be waiting when you return, as will half the town most likely. Hopefully it doesn’t come to divvying up your belongings, but I’ll honor your word. You’ll have to let Riza know that old Shot can’t handle her shots, though. Ha!

See you tomorrow,

Danny

Dream Vacation

For my last assignment bank post of the week, worth 3 1/2 stars, I selected to doĀ welcome to paradise. This assignment instructs you to write simply about your dream location. I will be talking about my character, Bob’s, dream vacation with his friend, Gus Lee, who is a character from another student in this course. Overall I think this was my weakest assignment bank post of the week, but I have to say it is challenging to write about two different characters (especially since I am a since major who doesn’t do any creative writing). Of course I picked the Galapagos Islands because I was just there a little over a week ago.

Bob: My dream vacation would be to the Galapagos Islands. I have never wanted to go myself, but I know one of my good friends, Gus Lee, has always wanted to go. Gus is my barber. He has been my barber for at least 8 years now and I can’t imagine having another person as my barber. He is so friendly for the rough life he has had. His mother died when he was young and they think she was possibly poisoned. Gus doesn’t make a ton of money from being a barber so I really want to take him on vacation with me. Several weeks ago I got him talking about if he would travel anywhere, where would it be? Without hesitating he said the Galapagos Islands. He wasn’t able to tell me why there, but I knew that is where I would take him. When we get there we plan on hiking the second largest active volcano Sierra Negra, bird watching and snorkeling. Gus has always loved animals which would make sense why he wants to go to the Galapagos Islands. I cannot wait to see the smile on his face when I surprise him with this all expense paid trip!

In Ten Years…

I choseĀ an assignmentĀ that asked me to write about where I saw myself in ten years. Since we are doing all our assignments on our characters this week, I wrote about a version of my character’s younger self and where she saw herselfĀ in ten years.

The reason I chose for a younger version of my character to write on this topicĀ is because I have to incorporate another character. Since my character is a homesteader’s wife, I thought it would be funny to have her as a young girl talking about a crush that she wants as a potential suitor. I chose Kris’s,a senior at UMW, character, Merrell Shale, as the lucky guy.

How I Wish…

Continuing along with my assignment bank posts for this week, I selected to doĀ I’m a real boyĀ which is worth 3 stars, bring my total to 6 1/2 stars this week out of 10 thus far. This assignment instructs you to write about your life if you could be anyone else. What I decided to do was write about my character, Bob, wishing his life was another character, Wayne JohnsonĀ (which was made by another classmate). I am happy how it turned out. These combining character assignments are difficult, but I think I did the best I could with it. Here we go:

How I wish I could be Wayne Johnson. He is just incredible. With his handsome looks and swift moves on the ladies. Now don’t get me wrong, I love my life, wife and family. Rose, my wife is my everything and I don’t know what I would do without her. Working on my ranch is also my life and I would’t trade it for the world, but how I wish I could have Wayne Johnson’s looks. His tall structure with his brown hair and sun beaten skin. I am just pale with bright red/orange hair and load of freckles. Rose is always saying how handsome I am, but deep down I know she wishes I looked more like Wayne Johnson. My life is great as I said before, but kind of boring. I get every morning at 6am to work on the ranch and my day is pretty structure, but Wayne Johnson he is always having a good time. He has the biggest and baddest gun collection and is always up to some trouble. I wish I had that thrill in my life. We were once at the shooting range together and I think I have pretty swift gun skills, but this guy makes me look like an amateur. Wayne Johnson, how I wish I was you.

The Past

This week we have to do 10 stars worth of assignments not only dealing with our character, but another person’s character as well. I have to say, if I had known we were going to be using our characters so heavily this semester, I would have spent a couple days working on my character to make sure I had a lot to use for the whole semester. So for this writing assignment you have to write about yourĀ character’s pastĀ and it is worth 3 1/2 stars. What I am going to do is write about my character and how he came in contact with another person’s characterĀ Tripp the horse. I am happy how this turned out! I think I was able to to tie the two characters together pretty well.

Growing up my character Bob always had big dreams. Unfortunately though, he grew up very poor. Food was scarce and his ma and pa had to work very hard. His parents not only had to feed him, but also his three younger brothers- Samuel, Zachary, and Timothy. When Bob was four his grandmother bought him a christmas gift that was a small porcelain horse; from then on Bob knew he wanted a horse more than anything else. This was not possible though for him seeing as his parents could barely put food on the table, let alone buy him his own horse. One day when Bob was ten he was walking out in the fields when he came along a mother and her foal. The foal was gorgeous white color with a black mane. Bob started to head over to go see the horse when all of a sudden these older and mean looking men came out of no where and grabbed the baby foal. Bob started to run after the men, but knew there was nothing he could do. He sat with the mother horse until it was time for him to go home for dinner. Several weeks went by and Bob was walking in the city when he noticed a beautiful white foalĀ with a black mane chained to a post near a store. Bob went up to the horse and knew right there and then it was the same foal that he had witnessed being taken several weeks ago. Several angry looking men came out of the store and told Bob to go away since it was not his horse. Bob watched how the men treated the horse and did not like it. He went straight to the deputy’s office and reported it. About a week later a deputy arrived at Bob’s house. The deputy told Bob that those men were inhumanly treating that horse so they took the foal from them. Bob asked what the Deputy planned on doing with the horse and he looked at Bob with a smile. “Since you did the honorable and right thing of reporting the cruel men to use we want to gift the horse to you because we know you will take good care of her.” Bob could not of hugged the deputy any harder. He named the foal Tripp and they became best friends. This is how Bob met his first horse.

Thoughts during a Meal

The sticky grease underneath my finger nails, the smell of Ringo sitting next to me, begging for food, and the thought of Johnny keeps me from eating. How could he have died? Why did he have to go, yet, who did this? I look down and continue to eat as I slowly rip one piece after another. I bring each piece slowly to my mouth, allowing myself to smell the grease, and taste the flavor while savoring it. I had never really been a fan of this meal, but it’s the only thing I can bring myself to eat after his death. My mind explores all possible options as I crunch down the tender flesh.

Tate, my husband, was the one to have killed the animal. I couldn’t bear myself to do it. I was a coward. But, the taste of it, oh, the taste had me in a food coma. I couldn’t eat anything but this. The juices filled my mouth with each bite as I kept writing down every idea that crossed my head at how Johnny could of died.

As I wrote, I did promise myself one thing. I would never eat chicken ever again after today.

This assignment called for us to describe our meal through words. I did so by incorporating my western character, Riza, as well as her dog, Ringo, and husband, Tate.

I added another western character, Johnny, to the story. Riza is thinking of how heĀ could of died since he was her close friend. If you want to find out more about Johnny and his death, tune in to the radio show on March 17th!

NOTE: This assignment counts for 4 and 1/2 stars towards the 10. Find the original assignment here.

Cool Hand Luke’s Dinner

This three star assignment was to take an image from the daily shoot and write a haiku about it. After searching through a few images, I chose this one because it seemed the easiest to relate to the western theme. I don’t think I have ever seen a western movie that they didn’t eat beans at least once.

 

Eat beans on the trail
No can opener in sight
Guess I need a rock

Seven days this week
I can’t eat another can
Some beef sounds better

 

 

2011-272 Beans

How many x words even exist?

This 3 star writing assignment was to write a story in alphabet.Ā  The challenge is to write a story using a word starting with each consecutive letter, the more sense it makes, the better.Ā  X is a real problem though, and there are only two ways around it that I can see…Ā  Either forego literal sense, or bend the rule. I chose the latter as you can see in my story about boy who hates his mother’s dinner option.

A boy called dinner. Everyone from grandmas’ heard. I just kinda lingered, mom’s noodles’ odor proliferated. ā€œQuit remonstrating,ā€ said tiny uncle Vern. ā€œWe’ve extra yellow zucchiniā€

Hot Lead Lunch

This two starĀ  assignment was to write a terrible death ending for a choose your own adventure style book. It was a great assignment to incorporate the western theme; no shortage of deaths in gun battles in westerns. It was fun to take a typical western finale scene and create a silly twist that meant that the hero wasn’t going to go down in glory like usual.

You Chose Wrong!

The man that challenged you to a fight only looked like he was a loner. After venturing out in the street for an old fashioned draw, you noticed an ominous glimmer from a rooftop across the road. Turns out the whole thing was an elaborate scheme, and that the man on the roof whose gun barrel just revealed him was still sore at you for taking the sheriff job in the old 4 horse town you had left. Before you could draw your weapon or even turn tail and run, you heard the loud report from the rooftop rifleman and felt the bullet tear though the flesh in your abdomen. It was at that time that the man who called you into the street drew his revolver and fired two more well aimed shots. You were dead before you hit the ground.