Love making this...stuff..

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It should then be........
3, 4, out the door.

iu
 
I'm not original....I did this Saturday apparently..but..the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog...and my predictive text remembers...fresia you NSA and FBI, and any other three letter government agencies
 
"Be lamer" ok...a grasshopper walks into a bar and orders a whiskey double neat, because he has a pair. The bartender remarks, 'we have a drink named after you'. The grasshopper replies, ' You have a drink named Steve?'
 
The devout cowboy lost his favorite Bible while he was mending fences out on the range. Three weeks later, a group of grasshoppers walked up to him carrying the Bible on their backs. The cowboy couldn't believe his eyes. He took the precious book off the grasshoppers backs, raised his eyes heavenward and exclaimed, "It's a miracle!" "Not really," said the grasshoppers. "Your name is written inside the cover."
 
>disclaimer< this may end up as an endless rant, however my boredom compells me. Ok

So, once upon a time, in a world that is actually this one, there resided people who didn't have a nice classification. Everyone is the sum of their experiences. But, unbeknownst to them, their world intersected. More like collided, but I love under used words. They were nothing special. Each one, however, had experiences that were not the norm. If, and I highly doubt that will be necessary, I have to go into more detail, well I'll try to mold it. Anyway...our protagonists never set out for any notoriety. The were just trudging through their daily life. But each one had a very specific hardship to endure. One day, conveniently, they all came upon an almost insurmountable obstacle. So, they all went into the unknown. Fear as a companion, dire need their driving force, and the slimmest thread of hope, they sallied forth. None knowing how things would play out, not even sure if fate would bless them, they stalwarted forged on. Each player filling the shoes of their hero predecessors. And, that's just some bored bullshit...cause, I have time to kill
 
Ok, so, as always when I start these things, I have ideas. The difference, is all of these excursions are relegated to my numerous paper filled notebooks. So, the optimistic building of bones...

Our first disregarded and overlooked protagonist. Hers was a hardscrabble life. Born third into a family of five boys, she was just assumed to fill the role of all the women in her family history. Be obedient. Be submissive. Know your place. But she always strived for...better. Sure, her two older brothers were basically stronger, but not necessarily smarter. Life lived off the land is not an easy one. But any idea for making things easier, even marginally, were dismissed with prejudice. Until one of the boys parroted the same idea. Then they were showered with praise. This happened not once, not three times, but too many to keep count. This left her with a great amount of anger, and anger unfocused is problematic. After one such idea of how to optimize crop growth was yet again stolen from her, she decided to make a trap, a type of procedural management for the better of the homestead. Such a small thing, she thought, it really wouldn't be that detrimental in the long run. While it is a blessing to understand your environment so fully, one can forget the enormity of the male ego. It all seemed so simple..sure, one field left fallow every year to minimize arid field conditions. No dust bowl honeysuckle. They had five plots. Mention to the brothers, two would make for a lean year, but the following would provide that much more, at market time they would have a whole field to sell at said market. Unfortunately, the father, not seeing a fault in their sons' logic, went ahead with the plan. Oh, she knew the outcome, and spent the cold months and following growing season before the next year waiting. However, when the fall harvest left them at the edge of starvation, all her brothers said it was all her. They wanted to 'give her a chance'..never disclosing all their 'ideas' were always hers. The rage in not only her father, but also her own mother, and the very violent abuse she was subjected to broke a tenuous grip held to her kith and kin. That night, bleeding from a copious amount of belt strikes, and inhumane verbal torture led her to come to one conclusion. Stay, and suffer, and be miserable, or just leave. Having the hope she might survive. But, regardless, better to die to animals, or humans that are almost animals, then the family that should have cared you were alive and a part of. Off she went, no idea, no direction. Just..away
 
Let's see if player number two in this rambling series of something going somewhere is a good fit.

Our second unfortunate lives the ignored life. Well, ignored by many. His life was not charmed in the least bit. Abandoned as just a wee babe, his was a hardscrabble life also, much like our under appreciated farm girl. Where she had family, he knew not of Familia connections. His life consisted of cold floors, little food, and much unspeakable treatment by the priests who ran the orphanage. At a very young and vulnerable age, he learned how to disconnect from reality, a trait that kept him alive, but unbroken. Not blessed with size nor strength due to early malnutrition, he was prey to all those around him. But be it luck, fate, or destiny, his mind was both sharp and fluid. He picked up on patterns easily, and found a profound ability to manipulate or predict situations. He would find ways to avoid the abuse, to procure a bit more provisions, to be invisible. And he knew how to wait. Alas, I wish I could say he was always successful, that he never again suffered. But, children being children, and monsters being monsters, he was still subjected to the beatings from his peers, and worse from his protecters. But they lessened as he adapted. And then came his moment. Children grow, if able to. And time always marches on. It happened on one of the 'holy days'. Each child was shown a bit more compassion. Each priest a bit more...cheer. A time to be placated, to enjoy. That was his time. When the hour was late, and all should have been satiated, he acted. To retain some privacy for our second actor, all I will reveal this. Those who deserved a reckoning, were paid in full. And our next player left that horrid dwelling not only with a sense of fulfilled justice, but a bit of spending money. Outside the walls for the first time, should have been a relief. Sadly, it was not. Panic enveloped him. He didn't contemplate this part of his life. So, although he left the home he knew, he couldn't leave the city. His ability to be invisible to most was a God send however. During the days, people ignored the poor waif by choice. After nightfall he made sure it was his choice. There was obviously an investigation into what happened at the orphanage, but what was found is how little anyone could recall of our intrepid youngster. So, he survived by following, recalling, and exploiting those who were well off. He eked out a living in this way for a number of years in a city too large to be commented on. Those days of obscurity were either sadly, or thankfully, soon to end.
 
There is certainly a patten forming. But, let's hold back judgements until all players have been revealed. So, here's our third and rather unlikely protagonist.

He lived life mostly in the present. Where he came from was unknown nor was it an issue he addressed. That was for the more existential beings. His was a simple, more base life. Food to eat, sun to sleep in, territory to mark and defend. He had known kindness, mostly from the smaller population. The larger ones, especially the ones whos scent was sour, tinged with hostility were to be avoided. Many kicks and other hurts were their purview. No, he spent his days and nights avoiding those two leggers. Some of the smaller, higher pitched ones were okay, even kind. His days blended into a single existence. But, never knowing what a mirror was, never knew his own appearance. He had stiff areas from scars of fights past and victories achieved. Little did he know such a basic thing would lead a group of the foul smellers to find, corner, and entrap him. Once captured, he could smell the excitement among the tall ones. But being confined was new and frightening for him. He was all fear and uncertainty. He would soon find out what his new existence would be. And this new life was full of noise and pain. But, each night, after he had to fight another for no logical reason, to stay alive, he received food. And, food was life. But his life wasn't sunshine or territory, it was a box, in the dark, with the tall foul smelling. But, the days of dirt, blood, noise and fear would end in a freedom he could never comprehend. Because it always about the food.
 

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