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Voicemail
Hey, this is Jack. Message, beep -- you know the drill.
In creating this journal, the author has assumed the identity of a fictional person for use in the role-playing game fandomhigh, for the sole purpose of entertainment, without intending to obtain a benefit or to injure or defraud either the person who created the fictional person, or any reader of ( Read more... ) -
The Docks, Tuesday
Jack sighed and scuffed his toe in the slime on the Homer's deck. The boat had resurfaced, after it was sunk on Friday by the weight of the world that Jack carried around with him. The motor still ran, the weapons in the lockbox and beer in the minifridge were still all right, but the rest of the boat looked pretty nasty. And the deck chairs ( Read more... ) -
The waters of Fandom, Friday afternoon
Jack had been having a pleasant day, fishing out in the water under the blazing sun. There was a cold beer in his hand, and his hat over his eyes, and nothing around him but the lapping of the waves against his boat and the calls of seagulls ( Read more... ) -
The Waters of Fandom, Monday morning
Jack wasn't entirely sure why his other self had felt the need to (handwavily) hotwire his OWN DAMN BOAT yesterday. Or why he'd filled the empty tank with cooking oil instead of diesel, especially since there was an emergency can of gas onboard for just that occasion. Or why he'd built a battery out of a lemon and used it to power a lightbulb ( Read more... ) -
33 Apocalypse Ave., Saturday Morning
Waking up in a strange room wasn't all that new of an experience for Mac. It happened a lot in his line of work, and he'd eventually remember what he was doing there. What DIDN'T happen all that often was the gun under his pillow ( Read more... ) -
33 Apocalypse Ave., Sunday Evening
Jack had, in fact, NOT put handwavey posters up all over town. He'd stuck up a sign out in the front yard, with balloons on it, though. Good enough, right?
The sign read:
SUPERBOWL PARTY
Tonight. Here. Game time.
Pot luck.
No puking on the carpet.
No gremlins allowed.Aaaannd... Yeah. After that, he parked his ass in front of the TV. There ( Read more... ) -
33 Apocalypse Ave., Saturday Noon-ish
For whatever reason -- maybe it was the new kid who was boarding with him, or maybe he was just bored -- Jack made an actual breakfast this morning. Well, more or less. He scrambled a pile of eggs, and popped some waffles in the toaster.
And then, since he was being so domestic, he gave Jon a call. And then called back. And then, because he ( Read more... ) -
33 Apocalypse Ave., Saturday Afternoon
Jack sat on the porch, looking out into the distance across the waves. He kept watch on the street, too, looking for new faces -- he was aware that new people were arriving today, and past experience had shown there was about a 50% chance that one of them would be John Sheppard. Just in case any walked by, he had a sign up saying "Welcome New ( Read more... )