I thought we all could use a little help in keeping motivated and see a little bit about what others are doing for the 2015 contest!
Chapter one.
It took less than two weeks, fourteen singular days for things to start failing. Project Clarity it had been called, an attempt at clandestine population control. Not Procreation, but the baser, more integral mental control of a population. They had started in small villages in Afghanistan, in Iran, in Iraq, spraying a new chemical agent into the air. It had conformed with UN sanctions, as it caused in theory, no harm to the populaces, or the environments, but instead quelled the overall urge of aggression. Not completely mind you, but lowered it to 5%, enough to let a person strive to better themselves or their work, though not enough to act out. Only 3% of those exposed to it had an adverse reaction, and under the guise of national security, these adverse reactions were never made public, but buried under the lock and key of bureaucracy.
He had been out of the military a few years before any knowledge of that, he had striven hard to become one with his sudden civilian Live. Still to this day, aspects of it left his mind on a great slippery slope, but when Clarity had escaped its first domestic use, in the burbs of Los Angeles. Suddenly the adverse reaction to it, tripled in number, he found those given up skills, that way of life, of sneak and peek, of advancing to contact, suddenly very very needed once more. It’s been two years since the release of Clarity on the United States, two years of a new 'Dark Age', two years of this new life.
He had gathered a small group together saving some from what had come to be called reapers. Roving bands of murderous people, clarity having increased their aggressive nature and gave them the added benefit of dulling their pain receptors to next to nil. It was like a damned science fiction movie. Like whoever was playing god had watched to many space cowboy movies. He stood his watch over this ragtag band, kryptrek camp pants.... and a black tee emblazoned with a sword with wings.... writing on it saying death smiles at everyone... airborne smiles back. Fires burned in the distance as they huddled scared like children. Food had run low and they were having to venture into reaper territory in hopes of getting even a can of baked beans. Many of those who claimed to be strong and your "bullies of the world" seemed to find themselves more the victim. He had been watching over these poor souls for a while now. He had lost some, gained others, but always had a small group that he watched over.
It took less than two weeks, fourteen singular days for things to start failing. Project Clarity it had been called, an attempt at clandestine population control. Not Procreation, but the baser, more integral mental control of a population. They had started in small villages in Afghanistan, in Iran, in Iraq, spraying a new chemical agent into the air. It had conformed with UN sanctions, as it caused in theory, no harm to the populaces, or the environments, but instead quelled the overall urge of aggression. Not completely mind you, but lowered it to 5%, enough to let a person strive to better themselves or their work, though not enough to act out. Only 3% of those exposed to it had an adverse reaction, and under the guise of national security, these adverse reactions were never made public, but buried under the lock and key of bureaucracy.
He had been out of the military a few years before any knowledge of that, he had striven hard to become one with his sudden civilian Live. Still to this day, aspects of it left his mind on a great slippery slope, but when Clarity had escaped its first domestic use, in the burbs of Los Angeles. Suddenly the adverse reaction to it, tripled in number, he found those given up skills, that way of life, of sneak and peek, of advancing to contact, suddenly very very needed once more. It’s been two years since the release of Clarity on the United States, two years of a new 'Dark Age', two years of this new life.
He had gathered a small group together saving some from what had come to be called reapers. Roving bands of murderous people, clarity having increased their aggressive nature and gave them the added benefit of dulling their pain receptors to next to nil. It was like a damned science fiction movie. Like whoever was playing god had watched to many space cowboy movies. He stood his watch over this ragtag band, kryptrek camp pants.... and a black tee emblazoned with a sword with wings.... writing on it saying death smiles at everyone... airborne smiles back. Fires burned in the distance as they huddled scared like children. Food had run low and they were having to venture into reaper territory in hopes of getting even a can of baked beans. Many of those who claimed to be strong and your "bullies of the world" seemed to find themselves more the victim. He had been watching over these poor souls for a while now. He had lost some, gained others, but always had a small group that he watched over.
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