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 Subject: i'll see you on the other side [18+]

PostPosted: July 7th, 2017, 6:50 pm 

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There was very little that he could do, when it came down to it. It wasn't as if he was capable of even starting to understand the science behind it, nor was he capable of infiltrating the base he'd been held prisoner in. And even if by some miracle he got inside, there was no actual proof that going through the Rift wouldn't simply kill him.

In fact, if assumptions from others were correct, it was more likely to happen. The Rift was only meant to be used for one way travel. And Eli had already used up his.

It was funny, if he set aside his emotions, that he even believed he could ever see his family again. He should have been resigned that it was a lost cause years ago, but he supposed he had been naive. Not anymore, of course. There was nothing like being transported over 100 years in the past that forced you to grow up.

Then again, he supposed he had been lucky, not having been sent to prison. Not that labor camps were fun, not by any means, but he hadn't been forced to stay where the air was less filtered. Everyone knew the damage that it caused long term. The excruciating work was worth being sound of mind now.

He didn't feel that way all the time, of course. He'd been trying to meet with his family-who he had very little opportunity to see in the two years-and make a new life with them on the other side. Traveling by the Rift, however, was risky. There was a good chance you'll end up where you need to be, but the people who didn't were never found again.

It was a little surreal, that he was one of them now.

In an attempt to find the people he loved most, he ended up even more alone and far away from them, than he had ever been before. Coming to terms with the fact that he was stuck here was the hardest part. He'd known the camps were temporary, even if his stay would be long, because his sentence for disobedience wasn't as bad as it could have been. And knowing where his family had gone to, gave him some hope of finding them again.

But this was entirely different. This was permanent.

---

Sending the man in line in front of him a bland look, Eli snatched up a fruit cup, and slipped to the drink station before him. He didn't care to make many friends but usually he was polite. Being hungry did make him crabby, though, and he'd admit it. The last shelter he managed to stay in had no food so he'd spent the last few weeks scrounging for it till he heard about this place. And shelters came with their own issues, he'd learned. He couldn't exactly keep a job if he needed to be back by curfew.

Truthfully, he wasn't very good at the transient life. He had very little choice, without identification, but it didn't make him an expert. Not yet, anyway. Despite having been out in the streets for about six months, Eli was only now coming to terms with it all. He had a life once and now he felt subhuman.

Sleeping on a cardboard box and minimal showers was one thing; that wasn't much different from the camp. But not being able to do things like use a library computer for more than an hour a day (and not on weekends) meant he was forced to fill his time with nonsensical entertainment. It was having too much time on his hands and yet not nearly enough when it came down to finding food/shelter that stressed him out the most.

He hadn't traveled even half of what he did in the last few months his entire life till now.

Finding a seat in the corner chair of the last table after grabbing a drink, Eli hunched down and wrapped his arm around his plastic plate. He'd had enough people steal his stuff that he didn't trust anyone-not even the most innocent looking people. The food was good at least, and warm, which he hadn't managed to get recently except for a McDonald's burger a few days ago. And that was not anywhere near a full cooked meal like this. If he was lucky, he might end up with some left overs to munch on later.


He ate the mac and cheese probably too quickly but then slowed down with the rest. The coleslaw wasn't his favorite but there wasn't much he'd complain about anymore. He washed the gluey taste away with a sip of his fruit punch every few bites and prodded at the chicken with his spork until it was shredded and he could eat it in smaller amounts. His stomach would thank him later.


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PostPosted: July 7th, 2017, 8:26 pm 

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Honestly, no one really expects to turn into a humanish monster…Mostly because it shouldn’t happen. Apparently, Clayton was that random oddity where it had happened. Of course, he half suspected that it was that experimental medical stuff that had been done on him while he’d been in the military. Admittedly, it had saved his life where he otherwise would have died, but still.

Interestingly enough, some of the other soldiers who’d had it used on them had also changed. None of them were like him, of course, but not all of them were left human. All of them would suddenly stop posting on the forums within a few days of talking about the changes. Clayton wasn’t the conspiracy theory sort, but even he could tell that something was up. There were plenty of rumors on where the technology came from. Aliens and from the future were the two biggest theories, more the latter than the former. After all, the technology had just randomly popped up. In any case, after he changed, he had decided to be very, very careful about things.

He had made plenty of mentions in the past about going backpacking. So, he commented about finally growing a pair and going hiking in the Rockys. Of course, in actuality, he pulled all the money out of his bank account, put it on visa gift cards, and headed east. He didn’t want to use up all his money, so he half walked and half used overnight greyhounds since they tended to be cheaper. Plus, there wasn’t always a lot of people on the buses.

With it being fall, it was easier to blend in with a long coat, baggy jeans, and boots. Honestly, the whole get up made him feel stupid, but it helped to hide what he was. It didn’t do anything about hearing the thoughts of those around him, however. The thoughts crept into his mind unwanted, threatening to overwhelm him at times. Still, he’d been able to get an iPod and that had helped to a degree since it gave him something else to focus on. Regardless, he was still able to hear some of the louder thoughts.

As winter started getting closer, he made the unpleasant discovery that it was getting too cold to hang out in the open. Well, if he had the proper supplies it wouldn’t be bad, but he didn’t. He was slowly getting things put together, but it was hard to convince someone to just buy everything for him. Plus he couldn’t really do that in good conscious. As it was, he was trying to conserve what money he had left; he hadn’t exactly been loaded in the first place.

So, here he was, hanging out at a homeless shelter. One of many he’d frequented, actually. He tended to rotate around the shelters since he was able to make the people who ran it forget he’d visited recently. It tended to be a bit of a mental strain, but it was worth it to be able to stay for a day or two. It was also handy in convincing the person dishing out the food to allow him a second fruit cup.

Taking his food, he retreated to one of the cleaner corners of the dining area and crouched down, putting the tray on his thighs. Chairs weren’t comfortable for him due to his tail, so crouching would have to do. For many, the position wouldn’t be comfortable after a while due to muscle strain, but thanks to the altered physiology of his, it didn’t bother him.

Despite being tall and lanky enough that a stiff wind might blow him over, people didn’t really bother him. He had the sort of look to him of someone who’d seen too much and wouldn’t hesitate to end anything that someone might start with him. With that in mind, Clayton focused on eating and trying to figure out where he should head next.



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The voices in my head have all begun to sing.The voices in your head have all begun to sing.
Sure hope I ain't listening.
Sure hope you weren't listening.


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PostPosted: July 13th, 2017, 4:14 pm 

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He tended to ignore other people, not particularly interested in making friends with anyone, and not very worried about anything but his food. Despite that, he did keep his guard up. A lot of people were even more distrustful than he was, which meant there was always a certain amount of tension within them. Not that he blamed them any but he didn't care to get into a fistfight because he looked at the wrong person too long.

Spearing a few pieces of chicken, he ate them one by one. Looking over briefly when someone sat in the corner next to him, he scooted a bit, so as to give them more space. The guy's bag was about the size of him, his clothes thick and clearly ready for winter, so Eli frowned to himself. He'd taken a shower himself so it wasn't like he looked a mess but the guy looked more like he was setting out on a backpacking trip.

His own boots were scuffed, the edges of his jeans a little frayed, and socks dirtier than he cared to have them (nobody ever donated socks dammit). It wasn't anything that screamed homeless, not necessarily, but he was clearly not at his best. He poked at the small hole on his coat, having gotten it caught on a fence just the other day, and turned back to his food. He told himself resolutely that the guy had all the right in the world to be here just as much as he did.


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PostPosted: July 13th, 2017, 4:37 pm 

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His clothes weren't the best, but they weren't the rags that most of the other people had. On the other hand, the backpack he had was clearly from the military, but any identifiers, such as the name patch, had been removed. Clayton wasn't going to deny that he was military, but he wasn't going to make it easy for people to identify him. Especially since his last name wasn't super common.

Quietly, he ate. He'd had worse, he'd had better, but food was food and he'd need the energy. It took him a moment to realize that he was being glanced at. Looking over, he gave the man next to him a frown before going back to his food. However, the peace wouldn't last. Trudging over was one o the mouth breathers that liked to push people around for extra food.

"Why the hell do you have two fruit cups. Hand it over." The guy demanded, causing Clayton to look up.

"Because I'm better looking than the rest of you cocksuckers." Clayton retorted, a slight southern accent hinting on where he was from.

The man reached for the cup, "Give it here you inbred hick."

Clayton pulled the cup towards him, "How 'bout you keep trying to find your daddy since your mom was the town cum-dumpster? Oh, wait. You don't know who she is either because when she found out she had a shit for brains for a son, she chunked you in the nearest garbage can. Why don't you fuck off and bother someone who actually gives a shit?"

By this point, a bit of a scene was being made, so the would be thief gave Clayton a bit of a glare before finally leaving.



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The voices in my head have all begun to sing.The voices in your head have all begun to sing.
Sure hope I ain't listening.
Sure hope you weren't listening.


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PostPosted: July 16th, 2017, 11:15 am 

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When the guy noticed him, Eli just looked back down to his food, and continued eating. However a second later the other guy came over. He stiffened, turning his body so that his back was to the wall, instead of him. He eyed him quietly, waiting to see what would happen.

Clayton's retort made him stiffle a chuckle, though not very well, and he watched the other man walk away before sitting normally again.


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