Beau's timeline

I'm sitting in my apartment, wearing a raincoat and smoking a hand rolled cigarette. I only partake in the action when I get to make them.

The lights are off, and my phone is sitting on the table in front of me. How long have I been waiting for it to buzz? The clock on the wall isn't even set up right, I just keep it around to fill the room up with the clicking of the second hand.

It's been a couple years now, doing the same damn tedious job for some big-eared no show. That is possibly the most true and nicest explanation from him... good thinking Beau.

Thanks Beau-

I'm talking to myself again... that's wonderful. I need that phone to buzz, I need something to do and I need it fast. If I don't get moving again, I'm going to go take it out on somebody else-

*he looks back, theres two bodies left where they were murdered, an Enderian, and a Blaze, both suffering from water burns and bullet wounds.

I have a firearm in my coat. It's a 9mm, holds 11 rounds, yet when I take the magazine out and spill the rounds on the floor... I count nine.

It's a nice place... it's definitely not mine. My phone still hasn't gone off. Maybe I should recount the bullets?

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...

I don't remember using the two- no. I don't remember being told to use the two, I was told to use one. Just the purple one, 'n at the fire abomination.

Why the hell did he have to collect rent at this very moment?

"Yo my guy, tell me why you had to get your damn money at this cery second?" I call out, shockingly I get no answer. He's probably dead.

Why am I talking to myself so much? What does it achieve...? Who knows, it passes the time. I don't think on my hobby that much... usually it's just simple things like "oooh... this dude asked the wrong question" or "waaaa I'm god but I can't fix this problem, waaaa"

Tssk Tssk.

It's kinda funny honestly. So what if they know? The hell are they gonna do? Ask to leave? Sometimes I question what the hell this is all for-

bzzzzz

Never mind. It's about damn time.

Written by Dec (Server Owner)

My name is Beaumont Bel-air. I live in a moderate condo off the coast of the Gliese, South of it to be specific. I am 87 years old, yet I don’t looks day over 24. I believe in skin care, I’m a rather fond advocate for products from Odessa. Each morning, I apply a rose based facial cream on my skin, it adds depth. For the transparent parts, I tend to apply a lighter amount as to not rash the thin layers of skin covering those bones. 

I don’t have a car, nor a bike. For work each morning, I throw on a pair of shorts and jog the five miles, taking my work clothes with me in a backpack. A few weeks into my routine, I invested in a showering system at my work place, I still choose to wear deodorant each morning, derived from a local dealer of mine.

I wear a pair of dress pants and a matching shirt and tie from a eco and humanitarian friendly company. My tie situation is assorted, yet they are always the same length. I also tend to carry a larger raincoat and aviators with me for unfavorable conditions

On my jog, I enjoy taking mental notes of my surroundings. Knowing your world allows you to be the best possible version of you. I notice portals opening each day, more people appearing on my boulevard, more accountabilities for our government.

Intrusive thoughts want me to do something about it, however I am stronger than them. When I stare at my mirror each day, nothing stares back. It serves as as a reminder than I can always be better, that I need to do something more.

That others need to do less.

I don’t let the intrusive thoughts win often.