ZQ’s blog

know this is not the best way to submit them, but I can tell you what they are in brief now.
1. Jackalope.  Lance.
2. Invisible Man.  Kidari.
3. I was going to spend one BGA researching vampires.  Specifically, whether vampires are undead in the classical sense; whether I can still consider Victor as Victor or if Victor is dead and this “thing” is simply inhabiting his body; and whether I can blame the “thing” for having killed him.
4. I was going to research getting some magical shotgun shells to allow me to fire it in low-tech, high-magic settings, similar to what Danzig does.  I meant to contact some esotericists about this, but have been dicking around with my stupid computer for two days now.
5. Danzig raid.  Again.  Alone.
6. Our search for Florida.  Any BGA’s not needed to spent anywhere else go here.  I have 6 this time because of the 1 unused from last month.

C -

Well, another birthday, come and gone.  For obvious reasons, I ain’t never made such a big deal out of ‘em - I think I’d feel kinda funny if the whole room or whatever was lookin’ at me while they sang some song or lit sparklers or something.   I guess that’s a me thing, though, because I’ve noticed other people like the validation of knowin’ their friends remembered about them on their “special day”.  I guess that makes sense, but to my thinkin’, I don’t get any older today than I do any other day.  I’d rather be recognised for somethin’ I did besides survive another year.   That ain’t nearly so tough, and I’m proof of that - if just survivin’ was all that difficult, I wouldn’t of been able to do it as much as I have.

And speakin’ of survivin’, I’ve got to thank the Good Lord for gettin’ me back to the Midwest in one piece.  I’ve about had it with LA for any time soon.  If it weren’t for a couple of gems (Rosie, Smiley) in that big shitpile, I’d wash my hands of the whole bloomin’ place.  I got to write up my report to Jeff, and it won’t be pretty.  At least in the Midwest - or even more, in Jeff - when you come across a nasty, they tell you straight up they’re a nasty, before they shoot at ya.  In LA, you just never know, and I’m beginnin’ to suspect they’re just about all nasties, just different flavors.  I think the gems are all that’s keepin’ me from thinkin’ that.

I’m still lonely here without you.  I’ll see you in time, I guess, but it seems I still have more to do here.  I do think about you all the time, and I miss you dearly.

- Z

Well, I’m getting more established here at the Farm. Turns out someone in town has a TL6 generator just for the library, so I’ve been using that to keep in touch with the JET.

The farm itself is a little over 100 acres, and right now there are 3 full-time workers and 4 more kids from the town who come in to help out.  I mostly grow corn, and we have some cows, pigs, and sheep.  I have three horses now - Duke and Major are the plowhorses and the riding horse is named Gypsy.  There are two farm dogs, Rags and Pickle, and about a million barn cats and an owl.

I also have one picture that the previous owner had, and I hired a local photographer to come out and take some more pictures. Unfortunately, it’s TL 2 out there, so they’re all in black and white.

Here it is in the snow. This picture is over the mantlepiece.

Here it is now.

Here is one of the workers, with Duke and Major.

These two outbuildings are in the back, nestled back where the fields border the woods.

I’m pretty happy with it. It sure is quiet and peaceful out here. I think I’m going to like it.

- ZQ

This is the first Thanksgiving I’ve spent outside of the dust in, well, decades I think.  Funny thing is, this time I have a lot more for which to be thankful than usual.  Last year at this time it was just me and the critters back at the shack.

I haven’t been able to find my way back to the Midwest yet.  I think they have some sort of gate set up to get there, but to tell the truth, I’m not looking all that hard.  I’m realising that it’s nice to be here for a spell, where I can walk in grass and see the trees again, and not just for a few days like when we’re on deployment.  I think I’m going to head down to Jeffersonia too, use some of my savings to buy some land down there.  I’ve always liked that system, and I want to see what they’ve done with it.   Plus, they’ve got raccoons there, too.

I have to wonder whether I should go back at all.  I think the only things that would get me back to the dust are the people I’ve met there - and I really only see them at the JET anyway - and the government they’re setting up.  I think my experience with that could really help, but it feels like no matter how much I say that, no one wants to hear what I have to say.  I think they think I’m just some dustwalker - besides, I think they’re looking for a different kind of government than what we had before.  Still, it doesn’t seem very honourable to just up and go, so I’m not sure yet.  You know I’ve never been one to rush.

I brought all my clothes and stuff with me, and I managed to get most of them out of New Orleans before the fall, and all my tools and gadgets too.  I’m putting together a flamethrower for our next deployment (LA!), and it won’t work in Jeffersonia, so I’ve got to set something up here, a workshop maybe.  We’ll see.

It’ll be hotter down there in Virginia, and without the dust I may be able to hang up the coat for a while.  Maybe the hat, too, I don’t know.  If I’ll be toting around a flamethrower, I’d better be wearing a fire-retardant suit too, so that’s all the more reason to lose the heavy stuff.  I wonder if they’ll recognize me.

Dr. Johnson’s been doing a great job patching me up.  It looks like I’ll have some nice bite scars on my left shoulder to go along with those old claw marks down my back.

Well, it’s dinner time.  Still nothing fancy this year, but I take a moment and think a bit anyhow.  More later.

- ZQ

I really haven’t been writing in this too much of late.  It’s always been one thing or another,  somethin’ always popping up to take up all my time.  Now, though, I find myself sitting in Penn State, waitin’ for the gate to open back up so I can go travel a bit.  The way home won’t be for a while anyhow, and I really want to see what they’ve done with Jeffersonia.  So I thought I’d write some.

But where to start.  With Rosie, I guess.  Back in the last deployment, Nico went with her to New York and some rivalry family punks kidnapped her, so a bunch of us went to get her back.  General Sykes (who looked a little pale) flew us there, and Nico, Starke, Marie, Cody, Miryam, Nick, Lance, Rom, and the oily Prince Carlos all paratrooped in (boy, that’s been a while) to the farmhouse where they had her.  Miryam was so excited ’bout paratrooping.  Anyway, they’d done some sort of ritual to protect the place from magic, but sad for them it didn’t protect their goons from our bullets.   Turns out Starke is a capable sniper.  We got Rosie out - she was a little bad off, but she’s okay now.

Fast forward two weeks, and we’re back on deployment.  It sure is good to see Rosie back where she belonged.  Maddie was very pleased, I could tell.  Victor and Valerie were there, and I met a guy named Smiley from LA, who seems like a decent fella.  But man, something must have come over Jack.  I tried not to show it, but she was all made up and pretty.  Thinking back on it now, maybe I should have said something.  I hate myself when I do that, but it’s not like I’ll ever be able anything but alone any more anyway.

Jack also gave me a Christmas present - I haven’t gotten a Christmas present in I don’t know how long.  She gave me a taser, which got a good amount of use over the next couple of days, although it didn’t work once I walked out the door.  Also, Rom gave me a raccoon tail - I told his about Esepana when we first met back in Lincoln County, and I guess he remembered.  And, it was wrapped in twenty dollar bills.  I could have used those years ago, but now they’re all but worthless (or so I thought - read on).

Nigel loved his pina coladas.

The next day we did some missions.  I’m not going to do a full writeup here, because I hear they’re calling for departure in twenty, and I still have to get ready.  But we went on board Otto Reinholt’s sub - I remember hearing the story in WWII - and he himself was an undead monster.  I got an autographed picture of Hitler, and Reinholt’s name tag.  We checked out a new thread, which was Grinnell, Iowa, in 2007 - it was here I could have used those twenties, but I left them back in my room at the hotel.  From now on, I’m going to carry a larger kit.  We saw some old reenactor nerds who were holding off the Viking horde, and then there was the werewolf incident.

Someone was doing experiments on werewolves, you see, and we finally broke in to his room and I guess I didn’t speak up enough, because my team let him out.  The bells started ringing (I found out later that’s when the zombies were let out) and he wolfed out right in the middle of us.  He bit Nick and me and threw us around like rag dolls.  We torched the place and barely got out.  I have to remember to get one of those potions.

And that told me that what we really need is a flamethrower.

The rest of the expedition was fighting off zombies.  Oh, and one giant bat-like demon thing, but Rei took care of that.  We did what we could to save people, but I really didn’t like the practice of shooting townspeople.  I tried to taser that one woman, but someone shot her anyway. I really hope I don’t find out who.

Later that night, they brought back Al and Bud.  The whole place went quiet.  It reminded me of just after Horseshoe Bend, seeing all them lined up like they were.  Then the next day, we went to rescue Lance and the Tulane team, and found out we’d lost Jack and Dr. Archibald.  I sure liked the three fellas - and I had no idea Valerie was so close to Al - but man, did losing Jack hit me like a ton of bricks.

Jack was the kind of woman about whom people would say, “Oh, she can take care of herself.”  And now she’s gone.  Who’s gonna be next, then?  Angela?  Marie?  Cookie?  Valerie?  I can’t bear to think of it.

So I won’t.  I’ll do what I can, like I always have.  That’s kept me going for a while now, I guess.

Anyway, they’re boarding now.  I’ll write more later.

- ZQ

It gets a little lonely out there in the dust.  I wrote a song.

I was a trailblazer

Across the nation we did roam

The plains and mountains were our home

With our two captains and their forty gallant men

We reached the ocean and we made it back again

Thanks to one woman, not a single man was killed

So I am living still

I was a soldier

Marching to war with Old Glory by my side

To my command, I did abide

Ordered to kill my brothers that I did adore

Their family and friends slaughtered by the score

I walked away before I joined them in the ground

So I am still around

I was an outlaw

Across the midwest I did ride

With knife and pistol by my side

Many a maiden lost her baubles to my trade

Many a soldier spilled his lifeblood on my blade

The lawmen caught me in the fall of ‘81

But I’m still on the run

I am a dustwalker

Across the wasteland I will ride

Until I reach the other side

I’ll find a place to rest my spirit if I can

Perhaps I will become a trailblazer again

Or I may simply be a single drop of rain

But I will remain

And I’ll be back again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again

I’ll be back again

Well, howdy.

I’d been out in the dust for so long, I thought I’d head in to the Oasis and see what’s what. Well, it turns out that was about the best choice I’ve made in a while. I sure did meet a lot of good folk out there - the Tribe of Three, who, I guess by sheer fate, also live with the Sac and Fox. I guess they wouldn’t know any of the ones I knew.  Anyway, they’re Miryam, Bear, and Rom.  Rom’s the defender of the group, and I pegged him quickly as a good guy.

There were lots of others.  Mr. Deschenes and Mr. Thorne, a fellow named Zero, Miss Rosie and Mr. Potter from the Oasis, and lots of others from all over. I met a couple astronauts, people from New York and LA, a couple from dear old New Orleans, and some genuine fairy folk, like in the legends. I also met an ambassador from a place called the Hive - I’ll have a few things to talk to him about.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t there when Mr. McSween was gunned down. I should have been. I should have known it was coming, just like I should have known Dirty Dave would show up. Train jobs are so nasty, but it turned out all right, since Mr. Thorne will apparently be all right in time, and Susan wasn’t hurt at all. Anyway, I’ve been feeling really bad for her, so I’m heading out there with the merceneries that Mr. Deschenes said we’d send her way.

The food was just so good, like the old days. I’d be willing to go with them to Jerusalem just for that good cooking, but I like being able to help out as well. I hear they’re planning to open a P-Poc school, and I think I’ll help with that, too.

Anyway, there it is. More later.

ZQ

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