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Me and my rig

We all talked about it, and as weird as it sounds, I'm going to be the first one posting here. Well, first one after Alfieri I suppose, but what he wrote doesn't actually mean anything. That's typical of Al. He just loves to write rambling bullshit.

I'm going to be the one maintaining this blog. Al and Vix are both arguing about it, as per usual. Alfieri thinks it's important to 'tell our story', Vix doesn't think it matters. However Alfieri also has zero interest in conversing with anyone who might read his story. Again, Vixen doesn't think it matters. I don't think she cares about this blog at all. You'd think given her interest in all sorts of esoterical weirdness, she would be interested in communicating with, well whatever the real world is. Alfieri thinks he doesn't matter because he isn't really real. Vixen thinks it doesn't matter that she isn't really real. Me? Well. I don't know. Let's communicate, and then find out.

I feel a bit strange about [posting first] as I don't see myself as a hero of our story, let alone 'the' hero. However, I'm the one with the interest and the motivation, so here I am. Alfieri will no doubt wax lyrical of his own accord in this space, but I shall attempt to pester Vix into posting every now again. After all, she's the one who really held all the cards (literally) right from the beginning.

So, here is the first part of my story. It's written in third person. I didn't really write it myself, but it's about me. It's embarrassing, actually. I shall have to resist the temptation not to edit it. Some minor details, like setting, and my age, are wrong. Alfieri keeps telling me that this does not matter, as long as the themes of our story are constant. Whatever.

Oh, and by the way. Hi. My name's Ande.Collapse )


Beginnings. Or Ends?

It's about an obsession. My obsession. I'd love to pretend I had a higher purpose, but nope, for me it was all summed up in that vision of sick glory; five feet and two inches of twisted-beautiful-perverted-perfect flesh.

I suppose I could pretend I love her. I suppose I can pretend to myself that I'm only pretending to love her when really I don't love her, but actually I do.

Okay. Let's slow it down a bit. I'll start, well not at the beginning. No one wants to hear where I came from. I'll start in the middle. My name is Alfieri. Well. It's not, but it'll do. Damn it - I must stop writing about what I'm not, but what I am. But then there wouldn't really be a story. And that's the one thing I am. A story-teller. Although maybe some people would prefer pathological lier.

My name is Alfieri Decelis. I've been thirty-nine for four years now. I like to think I look young enough to get away with that one, but, thinking about it, I probably don't. I've never really been particularly blessed in the looks department.

And I want to tell you a story. It's about an obsession.


Alfieri is a free-lance journalist who takes on cases as a private detective to supplement his income. He lives topside, and has a special interest in the company HydroGen.

Ande is a purpose-bred mutant, conceived for one of the few remaining rig ships. He slipped away whilst the ship was in-dock, and now lives and works for Vixen.

Victorian Xureb, alias 'Vixen' is a consental genie. She works in the Pink Flamingo, by day as a tarot-reader, and by night as an exotic dancer.

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November 2008


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