deegee

Heya! I'm Dan. But you can call me Fel, Taeru, Kaarn, Cal, 'Boomer,' Silas, Fletcher, Arrik, or any of my other PC's... 'hey you!' works, too.

@AllOurPrettySongs

My doomsday machine requires no password. I'm chaotic like that. (and I have a terrible memory for such things.)

nyuk nyuk...

Heya! I'm Dan. But you can call me Fel, Taeru, Kaarn, Cal, 'Boomer,' Silas, Fletcher, Arrik, or any of my other PC's... 'hey you!' works, too.

All of the Pretty, Lovely songs! Thanks for stopping by!

I remembered the password. Then I wrote it down on my iPhone 'notes' page, along with all my other bank cards, credit cards, my wife's birthday, my pants size from nine years ago, my psychiatrists' cell number, and all the other terribly important info.

I'll hit you up with any querulous quandaries I find myself in. ;)

-D

Heya! I'm Dan. But you can call me Fel, Taeru, Kaarn, Cal, 'Boomer,' Silas, Fletcher, Arrik, or any of my other PC's... 'hey you!' works, too.

Oh -- by the way... where do I click to see what my password to the site is? I've already forgotten.

Selune - howdy. What would you like to talk about? Random subject generator (aka my head) says: Honeydew melon.

Heya! I'm Dan. But you can call me Fel, Taeru, Kaarn, Cal, 'Boomer,' Silas, Fletcher, Arrik, or any of my other PC's... 'hey you!' works, too.

How are you tonight? Me? Nice of you to ask. I'm well, thanks. Just roaming the halls of the RPGuild, as it were.

I'm a Canuck. I like craft beer. I ride BMX bikes in my spare time (though I'm not as flexible and rubbery as I was at 14...) I make lights and sound for theatre happen. I have a nearly-four-year-old who doesn't know what Star Wars is yet, and it's killing me a little every day. I could live forever on granola and peach yogurt. Coffee should be a vehicle for sugar, and never from Starbucks. Johnny Cash and Joe Strummer made me want to learn the guitar (which is to say, I'm not great, but I've got heart.) There is nothing quite like the sound of four barely-controlled V-12 engines not quite in unison. Best piece of advice I ever received was "I can show a young man the landmines, but he's going to likely step on some anyhow." Top 5 movies: Ghostbusters (the original one) Goonies, Mad Max: Fury Road, Star Wars V, and The Big Lebowski (but I could change all five selections tomorrow.) Desert-island music: The Band.

Say hi. I don't bite (much.)

The Risen: Fear the Fallen

It is 10:40 PM. I am sitting in a supermarket security office with another survivor. We met today, and until this moment, he has gone by 'Ryan' only. He is a man with too much nervous energy, constantly biting his nails, or working away at a terribly broken pair of glasses with wire and a small phillips-head screwdriver. I produce my recorder and iPhone, and ask if I can ask him some questions for my ongoing memoir of the great death. He chuckles at first, shaking his head in disbelief, but then grows serious when he sees I actually have juice for my phone. I snap his picture <insert here> and flip on my clip-on reading light to take notes. (my interjections omitted)



...(in a loud but insistent whisper) Hey, man! Douse that light. You want to bring 'em all in here? Use your head.
...I don't care if it helps you write. You want to write - do it in the daylight. You really serious about this? Waste of juice, you ask me. If I had a working iPhone, I'd be listening to Modest Mouse, or CCR, not taking strangers' pictures.
...I already told you. Ryan.
...(exasperated) Ryan Alexander Canfield. Good enough?
...what is there to tell? (pause) Fine. Ask away.
...I'm 29. Birthday's in... uh... six weeks? What day is it, anyway? Hold on, let me check my fucking calendar. What kind of questions are these? (he wipes at a perpetually-teary and bloodshot right eye. -ed.)
...About 6' tall. Used to weigh around 190ish. Now? The belt has been taken in a notch or two. Who's to say?
...what did I do? When?
..."before?" Shit, man. Don't see what difference it makes. I had a bunch of jobs. Guess you could say I wasn't 'career minded.' uuuhhh... short order cook. Bike courier. Studied graphic design at college. Shit-load of good that'll do me now. Oh -- built a school once, in Zaire...
...what do I have? Oh, you mean tools of the trade. I picked up this AK-47 in a farmhouse in upstate NY. (it is, in fact, a Chinese Norinco type 56, with fixed wooden stock and folding bayonet. -ed.) No rounds for it right now though... I also have a pistol. Took it out of one of the dead ones' pockets. Guy in Albany said it was made by FN? I dunno. "Fuckin' Nasty." That's right. It's a 9mm. Holds thirteen rounds. I have three. hahahaha.
...Huh? Oh, this? Just some old aluminum softball bat. It's light. It works.
...Can I sleep now? Enough with the questions, man.