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iymcool

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Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 10:23 am

(Nick, if you come back and want your land back please tell me! XD I hope I didn't step on anyone's toes from the past making this.)

Once a pleasant and quaint farm overlooking the city of Crosshaven, the now old farm house is a dilapidated shack sitting a top a few withered crops. This area was once kept pristine by a friend and former soldier who always knew the right thing to say and always had a good word of advice.

Now however, all that's left of that memory is a small memorial set at front door of the worn down building. The name on the crude piece of wood read: "Nick" and below it sat a pile of dried flowers, each with the tip of the severed stems dipped in honey.

Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2008 10:57 am

Usually once a night the ghosts of this run down and tortured area would be visited by the caretaker of a small restaurant down in the city. However, trips have become more frequent and now it almost feels like a ritual performs every other night. Leave Naturae, brave the streets, get to the farm, scavenge, go home, repeat. You see, paying respects to a long lost friend wasn't enough. Mike also ha an ulterior motive: stealing the crops that had survived the small apocalypse.

Ever since the disaster the food supply, at least in the area surrounding Naturae, was a bit scarce. Trucks refused to deliver to a place that looked as though it had it's own Holocaust. So, whenever the pantries began to sow their rotted shelves, Mike would make a trip up here to try and look for something to give the kids that night. However, every time he cam up here he brought a small flower in memorium of the farmer who welcomed him so lovingly, and slightly inebriated, to Crosshaven so long ago.

"I can't help but feel like a trespasser here," mutters the young man as he leaves the front porch, his hand now distanced from the flower he had held all the way here, and made his way over to the fields.

iymcool

Hatacular Ferret

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iymcool

Hatacular Ferret

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Posted: Mon Sep 29, 2008 9:35 pm

The sky itself was a pal and dying yellow. It was almost as if the sky was losing the mental battle to a depression for twelve hours with little to no hopes for dawn to rise again. "I remember when the sunsets were something to celebrate and beginning parties under. Now they seem to be a warning against the gangs and the manic and unsound survivors who still believe the war hasn't quelled down. It seems though," muttered Mike as he bent down and began picking up a few heads of dried cabbage, "that it hasn't ended at all."

For about a half hour the young man silently went row by row and picked what he could. None of the food was necessarily fresh per say, but it would do. The kids didn't mind as long as they were fed. "It's a shame though. I used to be able to turn these husks into something filling and something that people looked forward to each night. Now without that sense of family and warmth it seems.....that all I can do is get by."

Posted: Tue Oct 14, 2008 7:38 pm

Soon it was nearly pitch black on the hill as Mike finished his harvesting for the day. Standing up, he put a hand on his lower back. "Ah....since when did lumbar pain affect the young under twenty? I guess we al aged a bit after this last year.". Looking around he quietly clicked on the small flashlight around his neck and created a couple of light sparrows. "Keep watch as we re-enter the city tonight you two. We usually don't stay out this long so we have to be on guard."

iymcool

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