In the end

Sean ducked behind a spire of pockmarked concrete as the whine of lasers burnt the air past him. He was a gunrat, trained to destroy cyberoids and any so-called thinking machine, but now he was trapped, and wounded; most likely surrounded.
He touched his hand to his side to check his wound; he wasn't bleeding, his fingers found only wires and damaged panelling. No flesh, no bone.
He paused and looked up, the sun was shining faintly through the clouds above.
The last thing he heard was the click from his laser's trigger as he put it to his head.

Dial 9 for an outside call

Good weekend, although my neck isn't currently a fan of it and I have a bit of tidying to do around the house.
Friday, wrote mr. Kipling, and on friday there were some exceedingly good cakes, someone's birthday at work, so I stuffed my face a bit, yummy; then off out to EB for bounceyness, really good evening that initially looked like it would be deader than a can of spam, but many double vodkas later and lots of sugar and frantic dancing the night away everything faded to grey as I died on the sofa at EHQ, mucho gracias for letting me crash there zenmeisterin. Exhausted; But I really needed that, to consume brain poison until I couldn't think and to dance until I couldn't move - got a load out of my system and stopped thinking for a while which was a relief.
Rest of the weekend was a good blend of LRP, not been playing so much but the Saturday's vamp went quite nicely by the looks of it, a nice intro for the new DST; and Sundays Changeling was also chaos, nearly got me a blaster - curses! But that wore me out; crashed out afterwards and watched the simpsons and a new episode of Futurama with wyrdness and Chris before spending the rest of the evening hammering at my duff PC, finishing off the stub of a bottle o' Vod and passing out eventually having got the damn thing finally to work.
So, not so bad really, but this morning is a wierd blend of unreality; usually is after a particularly good weekend, like a nagging in the back of my mind telling me it all wasn't real or that this moment isn't real and that I'll be waking up to realise that now or then never happened and all was a dream; dreams and memories tend to blend for me sometimes, which isn't helped by the lack of dreams and my dire memory so they tend to get even more muddled. Conversation is all just distant as well, as if my mind is some kind of concious epicentre and everyone else's is too, talking just causes verbal earthquakes inbetween these points that triggers events and warping of these epicentres.
Bleh, random babbling again; I feel the need for a brain dump.

Choc...

I have a Starbar, haven't had one of those in ages.
Yum

MOT

Spinner passed his MOT this morning, no extra cost at all.

Diamond.

Crashland

It was a windy day, the clouds racing across the sky in a kaleidoscope of greys with the occasional small puffy white cloud scurrying along beside them.
Without power it'd be a long fall, but another gust of wind gave the machine no choice. Away; rotors spinning crazily as it fell towards the ground, the wind pushing and playing with it as it fell.
Almost down now, the wind howled in annoyance at the escape of its plaything as with scarcely a bump the rotors stopped and the machine came to rest on the ground.
The sycamore seed had landed.

Which music am I quiz?

( Arrrrrgggggghhhhhh! )