Fan Fiction

Well, I used to have three chapter of a short fan fiction for a story I like on this blog, but the author asked me to not make it fan fiction, and to remove any links from those posts to her site.

I respect that, and since I hadn't used any IP of hers, I just removed the boilerplate and left them up.

So, I was going to post a new chapter in it, but I've got to come up with some new backstory.

But hey, it got me to post, so it can't be all that bad. Right?

A Little Less Education… Please!

On campus there's an Einstein Bagels, and behind it is an open outdoor seating/dinning area. I've had lunch there twice, once this week (today), and once last week (thursday as well). Both times I've been there I've tried to socialize with others, and both times I've succeeded.

Also, both times I've talked with Education students (future teachers). Yeah, I know, it's right next to West Classroom, home of the School of Profession Studies (where they teach teaching), so it makes sense for future teachers to eat there. But, it's also the only place to eat on campus outside the Tivoli, which means it should be fairly popular a place to eat.

Instead it's just an extension of the West Classroom student lounges.

So, I'm asking, anyone in particular, for that patio to have, at least next time I'm there, a little less Education (students).

Fort Save-Co - Chapter 1

Robert checked his inventory worksheet against the hard copy inventory book. For the last year he had painstakingly kept the inventory book accurate with his weekly inventories, comparing counts plus requisitions versus the inventory book, and then updating the record.

For most things, including food, the records weren't very accurate when compared week to week. People weren't as exacting as he was, and the council didn't care if the warehouse was short a half cup of lentils.

For others, like the firearms he was currently comparing, the records were accurate to a single round, a single magazine, a single replacement part. The council insisted on it, and it was the tracking of the weapon and armor supplies that his position had initially been created to do. Eventually, as there were more and more mundane items to keep track of, the duty of keeping inventory was added, until Robert was in charge of keeping track of every single consumable and tool that the council had to track.

It was also his last day on the job. Starting next week Jane, who was twenty years his junior, was to take over. He had done the job since it was created by the council twelve years before, and since he had reached fifty years in age, it was time for him to join the council itself, rather than just working for them.

He then looked to the next item in the record book. "Rifle, M16A2," he said aloud to himself. He then looked across the page to last week's entry, "Eleven." He then frowned, and looked at his worksheet.

"Ten?"

That didn't make sense.

"Okay Rob, breathe. It's probably just a miscount. Or you forgot to count a requisition form."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then side-stepped to the left to look at a neat stack of requisition forms.

He picked up the top form, it was for ten 5.56 mm rounds, a normal requisition. He then looked up at the date, and frowned again. "That's over a week ago. Maybe they're out of order?"

He quickly paged through the forms. They weren't out of order.

"Okay, time to double-check with a mark one eyeball.”

Stupid Fucking Gleemax!

okay, right now, I hate WotC. They did this whole deal with Gleemax, promoting it and whatnot, and now that they've opened the alpha, they've turned off the migration until Friday. That's two full days of noone being able to post on the forums, and two full days of me getting annoyed at not being able to socialize with my peers.

Of course, I'm not sure what else I'll use Gleemax for other than the forums, as of my two blogs, I only barely use this one (having completely and utterly abandoned LiveJournal) as it is.

So, I guess I'll just have to read other stuff. Good thing I've got the Amber Spyglass with me!

Delving 101 - Chapter 3

Mary split off from Rob about ten feet down the hall, when they had to go into their respective locker rooms. “Rob, you cut it a little close in there, you know that, right?”

Rob stopped, leaning against the frame of the locker room door. He bit his bottom lip, then sighed. “Yeah,” he admitted, “it was close. I wasn’t expecting them to follow as quick, and the corridor was a bit rougher than I would have liked. I couldn’t go as fast as I’d practiced on the track, but it’s alright. We made it, and in good time.”

Mary shook her head, then headed into the locker room, shouting to Rob over her shoulder as the door closed behind her, “Yes, but you almost didn’t. Think about it.”

Rob shouldered the door open and slipped inside, letting out a heavy sigh as soon as the door had closed. He walked slowly amongst the lockers, ending finally at the end, his mood suddenly lightening as he caught sight of someone.

“Hey Rob,” said Zeb, as he tightened the strap on his breastplate. It was just leather, like Rob’s, and like every other skirmisher in the class. It was black leather, and it’s studs were carefully painted a matte black to keep the glint off. “So, how’d you do?”

Rob sloughed off his pack and dropped down onto the bench, then drug it around in front of him. “I got it,” he said as he undid the buckles.

“It?” asked Zeb inquisitively.

“Yeah,” some Rob, as he flipped open the main pouch and reached inside. His arm went down deep as he leaned forward, deeper even then the bag appeared to hold. He then leaned back, pulling his arm, and what he had grabbed out of the bag.

“Wait? Didn’t Professor Torbin request you give that back?” asked Zeb as he looked upon the scroll case. It looked exactly like the scroll case Rob had given the Professor not five minute before.

“I gave him a fake. The farthest it gets from the original the heavier it gets. That’ll slow down the rest of the teams, allowing you and Jody to practically waltz through.”

Zeb chuckled.

Death by Awesome

Okay, I just found out that Scott Sigler (yes, of Earthcore, Ancestor, Infected, The Rookie, and more) is collecting information for people who want to show up as dead bodies in his new podcast novel Nocturnal.

I, as a loyal junkie, had to throw my hat in the ring. I may not have enjoyed The Rookie (too much sports, not enough sci-fi) that much, but all his other work is top notch.

Comfort Zones

I'm a student at Metro, and, unlike when I was a student at CSU or Red Rocks, I'm branching out of my comfort zone. I've explored the library (though I still haven't found anything I need to actually check out, so I'm still not sure how that whole process works at Metro, or at CSU or Red Rocks for that matter), and I've explored the campus (the 9th street historical walk thingie is really cool, and I might just lay out on the grass one of these days), and left the areas of expertise (I've visited the student lounges on the West Classroom, the Art building, as well as the Science building).

I've talked with people I didn't know and probably will never meet again at lunch at Einstein's (how cool that there's a bagel place in the middle of campus?). I've participated in the massive religious discussions (playing my normal role as devil's advocate). I've listened to the bands outside the Tivoli, and I've even talked with my fellow students (and my professors) outside of class.

But, I'm still in my comfort zone, even if it's edges are a little thinner, and the peripheral of the zone is larger. I'm still in college, still in school, the one place in life that I've felt truly comfortable in. I think that's one of the many reasons I want to be a teacher. I'm not going to have to leave my comfort zone even when I leave college. I'll still be within the loving arms of academia, safe from the wilds of the corporate world.

When I think about it like that, I get a little bit afraid. Because, like most people, I'm afraid of change, and leaving my comfort zone, that's a lot of change.