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Winchester Quarry(Title Unknown)Winchester Quarry
Bishop knew the stories of the Quarry; everyone did. Screams in the night, red moons, terrible monsters erupting from the nearby mine to steal young virgins away in the night, dead men rising up from the dirt and hedge to devour young lovers the list went on. Some even said if you drifted too far beyond the edge of town, you could be captured and eaten by some of the cacti that had come to life in recent years. Winchester Quarry, as it was officially known, had become surrounded by tall tales and folklore. Bishop Johnson, youngest and newest edition to the c


Ms. BakerfieldMrs. Bakerfield (1P)Ms. Bakerfield
One night, I was sitting in Mrs. Bakerfields house in a wood paneled room at a table as old as the country itself beneath the evening dim of a wrought-iron chandelier waiting on a cup of tea. Cliché, I realize, but thats how things are here in the dew-heavy hush of the country. Lace curtains over screened kitchen windows, rickety porch swings with the seats worn smooth, and plastic barn house mailboxes with gold-on-black numbered stickers all made the whole town strangely timeless. The whole damned place aged but never changed, as if it had resign


That Terrible IntellegenceMy name is Jaraquin Sisco, and I am the captain of what was once the MRCS Wayward Star, a command ship in the service of the Minmatar Republic Fleet. I do not know the date, time, or location, as we - the ship and I - have been without power or sense of place since near the beginning of this forced mecca through the cold expanse of what is undoubtedly uncharted space. I note here that I only declare myself captain because I am the only one of her crew left standing; my official rank is no longer important. The captain, DuKath Dorado, died many years ago the day we were set upon by drones of our own creation, gThat Terrible Intellegence
welcome to dA
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melike
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