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Tales From The Federation 2TALES FROM THE FEDERATION
Time had passed. Life had become even more twisted, as the Leadership continued to find new and interesting ways of bringing citizens in line. The second Civil War had ended some time ago, and with it's passing a myriad of sweeping laws and revocations had been implemented.
Former citizen Groz, for example, had seen his life extended far beyond it's mortal limit. No longer did he go to sleepy little bars in the seedier parts of Federal City 7. No longer did he even have a small cubicle of a home. Like many in the hum-drum clerical sector, his parent company had literally become a parent of sorts. The corporate masters had, along with those in government, bought up the very rights to his life. They had increasingly helped to add implants to extend his useful "expiration date". When his company decided it would be both several times more efficient and thus several times more cost effective, they had the majority of their low and mid lev
Tales From The FederationTALES FROM THE FEDERATION
a good worker drone is a productive worker drone
Groz ambled in to the slum-level pub. The buzzing neon sign proclaimed the establishment to be "Federal City 7's Premier Establishment", but Groz had the feeling that was far from the truth. Officially, Groz was known on his ID papers and card as Citizen #1172339004. All Federation citizens were mostly addressed by their number in any formal manner. Well, as far as the officials and Security Forces were concerned. Groz specifically was a paunchy, balding forty-something. He worked in one of the towering strato-scrapers closer to the city center, but had to commute nearly an hour to the cheaper outer ring every night to reach home. Most Federal citizens lived in the squalid and run-down outer rings of the cities, the much trendier and spacious residential blocks reserved for the top members of any metropolitan elite. Not that, as Groz himself would tell you, it was a genuinely bad area. There were w
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More