Origin

[Jak Snide]

Today was an especially miserable day for those sleeping in the streets. The winter was even harsher than usual, the cobblestone being buried under a foot of snow, and many of the little sheltered areas that tramps and vagabonds could use as a place of rest were now rendered null. This, of course, led to competition for living space.

He found himself face down in the snow, the white before his eyes slowly being dyed red with his own blood. Behind him the man who had just stolen his new home grinned smugly, and settled down to rest. The boy staggered to his feet, shivering in the cold. The old bastard hadn't even let him keep the rag that passed as his blanket.

He didn't bother to turn around and fight for his home. The man was easily larger and stronger than he was, leaving the kid unable to reclaim his sheltered alcove next to the brewery.

"He probably just wants to be around the stench of drink"

He trudged off into the night, arms wrapped around his body, shivering in the midnight cold. He didn't wager he'd live through the night.

---

The next morn he awoke, stiff and sore, and his face stained with blood. But he was alive. It was fortunate that the stables had been left unlocked, and that there was a convenient pile of hay to act as a bed. A month or so ago he would have praised his gods for such fortune. Now he simply snuck out into the half lit streets, hunting for his breakfast.

The morning delivery from the bakery to the few shops around town proved to be a boon to him again. After all, a driver who had woken just a half hour ago wasn't going to catch a small child sneaking up to the cart and swiping a loaf. The little thief quickly scrambled off down a side alley, and began to feast on the only meal he'd get that day. There was no joy, no sense of accomplishment in this action. Just the will to survive, no matter how painful his existence was. If his thinking had been different, he would have done himself in many moons ago. For Jack Soloman was a truly miserable orphan.

[ChristianC]

Good, quite good actually. I want to see more of this. But obviously with the ending I'm missing something? Who's this Jack?

[Jak Snide]

For some convoluted reason, I don't want to state that openly right now. But you can probably guess who it is from the first name.

However, if you want an answer, Jack is just a street orphan. ^_^

[ChristianC]

Ja...ck? Hmm... Oooooooooooooh... I get it!!! hehehehe... KEEP ON THE STORY OR I'LL RIP YOUR MARROW OUT!!

Ignore that, just keep on the story and I'll get happy! <p><div style="text-align:center">

---

"Such friends cannot be bought. They are made solely from the beating of juvenile thugs.I swell with pride to the bursting."
-Tommy Chen in StinkyKick.
http://www.atomictoy.org</div></p>

[Jak Snide]

It was a month or so later. Winter was entering spring, which meant that the weather was improving slightly. Not that you wouldn't freeze to death at night, but it just meant that there were more spaces to sleep now.

Not that this mattered to Jack right now. What he was worried about was the burly mercenary chasing after him, and the small money pouch he had in his hand. He'd moved up in the world from a simple bread thief to a slightly more skilled cutpurse. Although, as the current situation told him, he was nowhere near as good as he needed to be.

He scrambled down a side alley, his right hand cupped tightly around the money that'd pay for his meals for the next week. Besides, what did that man need it for anyway? All he'd seen him doing during the hour he watched him was boozing at a tavern. He had no family to support, and it was apparent he could easily take care of himself.

He quickly slipped into an alcove, and watched and the man charge past. He waited a few moments, then walked off in the opposite direction, figuring it was about time he fed himself for the day.

[ChristianC]

...*hugs pillow in expectation* Weee! Can't wait for more! <p><div style="text-align:center">

---

"Such friends cannot be bought. They are made solely from the beating of juvenile thugs.I swell with pride to the bursting."
-Tommy Chen in StinkyKick.
http://www.atomictoy.org</div></p>

[Nekogami]

<.< >.> Do you want critiquing, Jak? o.o I want you to write more, of course. I was wondering if you wanted any criticism?



Oh, and does this post make my penis look fat? XD <p>

---

<center><table border = 1><tr><td><center>
Arch mage144: It becomes more symbols than numbers at that stage, which is why it's my personal belief that calculus is actually a form of ritual summoning for the purposes of conjuring up hellspawn.Arch mage144: It obviously hasn't happened yet, but mark my words, one of these days some calc prof will be scribbling on the board and he'll draw some greek letter the wrong way and have a balor breathing down his neck. (on calculus) </center>

---

<center> 2 Sugoi!~~Mmm, Mechage RPGWW style!~~Live Journal</center></td></tr></table></center></p>

[Jak Snide]

Critiquing would be good, yes. *noddles*

Oh, and yes it does. *smirks*

[ChristianC]

... <p><div style="text-align:center">

---

"Such friends cannot be bought. They are made solely from the beating of juvenile thugs.I swell with pride to the bursting."
-Tommy Chen in StinkyKick.
http://www.atomictoy.org</div></p>

[Nekogami]

Jak, write mooooore
<p>

---

Words to live by:
OMG PRIAM: ninja sex would be neither felt nor seen by either partner
OMG PRIAM: each would just suddenly need a smoke</p>

[ChristianC]

MOOORE!!! <p><div style="text-align:center">

---

Quote:

---

ADDEUM: Yes there is an RP forum, but the people there suck and we all know it.

---

[p]-Idiot</div></p>

[Jak Snide]

He woke with a scream, as he did so many nights these days. He was covered in a cold sweat, which wasn't helped by the temperature of the streets. He stood groggily and began to shamble away, looking for somewhere else to sleep. He couldn't sleep there again. Not after a nightmare. He had to escape.

He'd lost count of how many alcoves, gutters and hiding holes he'd surrendered to the night, and the torments that accompanied it. He'd grown thinner of late, his lack of sleep making him sloth and less able to sustain himself. He didn't care. Fear drove him away from such petty things. He could never forget what had happened, how everything had changed that one horrid night, and how despair had become his sole companion. Everyone else was gone, swept away by the ebony monsters that tormented his dreams.

But there was something else he could forget. Something which terrified him as much as they did, but something that was totally unlike them. The former were his tormentors. The other was his saviour, though he knew not his nature. But he couldn't deny what he'd seen, what he had felt. What he'd smelt, as the charred remains of the wicked thing lay on the ground before him, burnt by his hand as all that around him had been burnt by it's own.

The child shoved such thoughts aside, his head aching from the multitude of memories and the emotions that accompanied them. He instead focused on the half snowed street before him, and trudged on into the night.

[Uncle Pervy]

Awaking with a scream in the streets could get a kid knifed, you know.

Interesting story, Jak. I shall await to see where you go with it. <p> Rum, White Magic, an' Cabbits. That's th' life fer me. </p>

[Kotoki]

Wheeee~! ^_^ *much huggles*

[ChristianC]

I totally agree with Kotoki. <p><div style="text-align:center">

---

Quote:

---

ADDEUM: Yes there is an RP forum, but the people there suck and we all know it.

---

[p]-Idiot</div></p>

[Jak Snide]

Jack looked over the blade again, rotating it slowly and watching how the light reflected off it. He'd lost count of how many time's he'd lost himself like this, and he didn't care. The simple dagger was more than a crude weapon to him. It was one of the few objects from the past that he'd decided to keep, at the time clinging to it like a shipwrecked sailor would cling to a lifesaving piece of driftwood. But it was so much more now. It was a memento, and precious to him. A few days ago he'd stabbed the man who'd tried to take it from him, leaving him screaming in the alley as he ran.

It had felt good. In that moment, he hadn't felt helpless, as the adult clutched at his calf and screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground. He had done that, proving that he was more powerful than the one who'd tried to rob him of the small, precious thing which he held dear. Not like before, before when he'd been helpless, save for that one moment of salvation, powered by something within. He'd felt it when the man had touched his precious possession, a sudden compulsion to...he didn't know. But it demanded action, and he'd answered it. He didn't think what he'd have done if the weapon hadn't been in his hand, what he might have done instead.

At that moment, he was happy to sit there, watching blade again, rotating it slowly and watching how the light reflected off it. Remembering days gone and lost, washed away by darkness. But never forgotten.

[Uncle Pervy]

Nice.

Be kinda groovy if we learn where he got the knife from. <p> Rum, White Magic, an' Cabbits. That's th' life fer me. </p>

[ChristianC]

It would be kinda groovy if you didn't point out plotholes... especially unimportant ones... I mean, how hard is it to find a dagger? Okay, a sword might be a bit hard, but from what I've learned from my share of D&D Wisdom is that daggers costs nearly nothing... Of course, what with Jack being a poor kid, he probably just stole it from the guy he toasted or something. <p>

---

<div style="text-align:center">weep in your weakness...</div></p>

[Nick Shogun]

I have no idea if you're planning on making this a long or short origin, but the whole "next night, next night, etc" thing is kinda weird for this. I mean, so far, all I've learned is that he's a hobo-kid with a knife.

[Jak Snide]

At the moment, he is just a hobo kid with a knife. More will come of this, I promise.

As for the knife, I'm not going to explain where he got it just yet, but considering Jack regards it as a memento, you can probably guess that he didn't just find it in a gutter.

Oh, and I was kinda hoping that I'd given the impression that each "chapter" was separated by at least a couple of weeks. I'll have to correct that in later installments. ^_^;;

[pd Rydia]

It works well on a message board, but as a fic, it'd be nice to have some sort of better transitions between the posts, what with all that time passing and all.

Oh, and nice little ficcy. ^_^ The narration gives a feel of all moments running together without particular distinction, kinda like how I'd imagine life is running for Jack at the time. I'm used to more dialogue and such, myself, but I think it quite fits here.


<p><div style="text-align:center">

---

"On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me...an F.N.W.C.!"
-- VampireJesterJinx (VA by...Dia! :D!)</div></p>Edited by: pd Rydia&nbsp; at: 6/10/05 17:23