When you didn't have anyone around to push you, you learned to push yourself.
Dirk got up early in the morning, just after sunrise. He would climb down the frame that supported his apartment, nimble over struts and crossbars until he reached the water. He would there check his fishing lines. Dave had left him many things, but one cold not live on nothing but orange soda and even oranger chips. He had to be careful with the lines, reeling them in gently in order to not snag or break. He had a limited supply. If he had caught anything he would carry them to the rooftop to gut and clean them. There was no point getting the smell of that in the apartment. After the fillets had been prepared came the first shower of the day.
He would grab a quick bite and then dry himself with exercise. He would be tempted to check his computer first, get drawn into chatting with his friends for hours but he couldn't afford to. He left the bullshitting to his Auto-Responder. After exercise came another shower then maintenance checks. Squarewave could do most of his own repairs these days, but occasionally he would get debris wedged somewhere his limbs could not reach and Dirk would have to shut him down and carefully pick it free from his wires and gears. On the rare occasions Sawtooth came home it would be a bigger affair. That guy knew how to get in a fight. But those rare occasions were becoming even farther between as Sawtooth journeyed longer distances looking for valuable supplies and information.
The schedule for apartment repairs changed with the day. He would wait for low tide and journey down again to clean away the trash that floated up from the ruins and wrapped itself around the rebar. Once a month it was barnacle scraping day. He hated that day. If it was a particularly hot day, and these days it was almost always hot, he would relax afterwards with diving. It was just for fun, there was nothing down there that could be useful to him anymore.
Then came cleaning the salt away with another shower. He would wrap his hair up with a towel and finally give himself some time to relax. Grabbing some chips and soda, he would pull Cal into his lap, resting his chin on Cal's cap while he opened Pesterchum. The Auto-Responder would give him the low down on Jake's daily ramblings, always descending into angry ranting at the end. The predictability of his fits of frustration would always bring a smile to Dirk's face. Jake would learn one day that anger clouded the mind and left him vulnerable to Brobot attack. Dirk would check in on Jane first. She needed the closest watching. Her brand loyalty to Crocker Tech was worrying.
After the daily assessment of Jane's level of brainwashedness he would do some stretches and light calisthenics while chatting with Roxy. It was a challenge to maintain their banter while building up to more strenuous activities. Roxy often joked that he should try talking to her while jerking off sometime, always accompanied by a solid wonk. He ignored those suggestions.
When the sun was started to fade he would sit down and have a formal meal. It was always fish.
Some days were harder than others. Sometimes he just wanted to lie there was Cal. When he was younger he had given in to these impulses, not exercising or cleaning or eating for days. Wasting away to nothingness, letting the sea erode away the metal strut until it collapsed, letting the waves crush his bones into dust, that had seemed so appealing. He had wondered if he died before the game even started if he would stay on Derse permanently. Which seemed even worse than death, being stuck there with all his friends fast asleep and being hounded by the queen at every turn.
He had always picked himself back up, pulled the disgusting sheets from himself and showered for hours, until his skin was red and clean again.
FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE<3JANE<3ROXY
Dirk got up early in the morning, just after sunrise. He would climb down the frame that supported his apartment, nimble over struts and crossbars until he reached the water. He would there check his fishing lines. Dave had left him many things, but one cold not live on nothing but orange soda and even oranger chips. He had to be careful with the lines, reeling them in gently in order to not snag or break. He had a limited supply. If he had caught anything he would carry them to the rooftop to gut and clean them. There was no point getting the smell of that in the apartment. After the fillets had been prepared came the first shower of the day.
He would grab a quick bite and then dry himself with exercise. He would be tempted to check his computer first, get drawn into chatting with his friends for hours but he couldn't afford to. He left the bullshitting to his Auto-Responder. After exercise came another shower then maintenance checks. Squarewave could do most of his own repairs these days, but occasionally he would get debris wedged somewhere his limbs could not reach and Dirk would have to shut him down and carefully pick it free from his wires and gears. On the rare occasions Sawtooth came home it would be a bigger affair. That guy knew how to get in a fight. But those rare occasions were becoming even farther between as Sawtooth journeyed longer distances looking for valuable supplies and information.
The schedule for apartment repairs changed with the day. He would wait for low tide and journey down again to clean away the trash that floated up from the ruins and wrapped itself around the rebar. Once a month it was barnacle scraping day. He hated that day. If it was a particularly hot day, and these days it was almost always hot, he would relax afterwards with diving. It was just for fun, there was nothing down there that could be useful to him anymore.
Then came cleaning the salt away with another shower. He would wrap his hair up with a towel and finally give himself some time to relax. Grabbing some chips and soda, he would pull Cal into his lap, resting his chin on Cal's cap while he opened Pesterchum. The Auto-Responder would give him the low down on Jake's daily ramblings, always descending into angry ranting at the end. The predictability of his fits of frustration would always bring a smile to Dirk's face. Jake would learn one day that anger clouded the mind and left him vulnerable to Brobot attack. Dirk would check in on Jane first. She needed the closest watching. Her brand loyalty to Crocker Tech was worrying.
After the daily assessment of Jane's level of brainwashedness he would do some stretches and light calisthenics while chatting with Roxy. It was a challenge to maintain their banter while building up to more strenuous activities. Roxy often joked that he should try talking to her while jerking off sometime, always accompanied by a solid wonk. He ignored those suggestions.
When the sun was started to fade he would sit down and have a formal meal. It was always fish.
Some days were harder than others. Sometimes he just wanted to lie there was Cal. When he was younger he had given in to these impulses, not exercising or cleaning or eating for days. Wasting away to nothingness, letting the sea erode away the metal strut until it collapsed, letting the waves crush his bones into dust, that had seemed so appealing. He had wondered if he died before the game even started if he would stay on Derse permanently. Which seemed even worse than death, being stuck there with all his friends fast asleep and being hounded by the queen at every turn.
He had always picked himself back up, pulled the disgusting sheets from himself and showered for hours, until his skin was red and clean again.
Keep moving, always keep moving.