Plans

k, here's the deal:

I work in technology.

You're supposed to write about what you know.

Theoretically, I should be able to write about technology.

Right?

Well... here goes. This one may evolve over several posts.


PLANS

...they say the best-laid plans... well, you know.

Greggy had a problem. He always had problems, but this was actually someone else's problem. He had a bizarre network traffic fluctuation which he was having problems tracing.

Here and there, through various ports and in an out of switches, routers, servers and clients, he saw packet counts creeping up as more and more data gets shuffled around in a perpetual game of tennis that never ended.

He could swear it was alive.

"Hey, boss..." he called to Evan. Any time he called Evan boss, Evan knew there was trouble.

"Mate, you've gotta stop calling me that..."

"Forget it, man, this is just too crazy to figure out..." Greggy showed him the stats he saw creeping up, told him that people were complaining that things were working slowly, then quickly, then slowly in fits and bursts.

"Well, it's gotta be a virus."

"Everything checks out clean, though."

"New one?"

"Been through the latest updates on all the big ones, Symantec, McAfee..."

"What's crept up the most?"

"This server here." Greggy logged onto a little-used file server, cut off from the internet by a firewall so intense you could almost actually feel the burning as you tunnelled a connection to the thing.

"Uhm, that server's so secure it's virtually disconnected from the net. It's on it's own VLAN, too. Plus the logins are so nondescript... there's not even an Admin account."

"I know. But it's all coming from here." Greggy couldn't figure it out. He pushed his glasses up his nose, determined to work it out, and checked the server's current load.

Suddenly, a system message appeared:

Hello gstorey@support.com. Leave me alone.

"...uhhh, you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yep. You've totally got a virus... somehow..." said Evan, obviously wanting to walk away.

"No. Not possible. This server's never used by anyone, remotely, onsite, anything." Greggy triple checked the logs, but this was a secure server for a reason. "Yep, noone's been on this box for two months. Our virus scanners are updated every week. There goes your virus theory."

Greggy and Evan stared at the screen for another minute in silence, wondering what else to do. Then:

Now that you've checked the logins for the past month, you will know that I am no virus.

Greggy and Evan began to worry. What the hell...? This made no sense. This was like water getting into an airtight locker in the middle of the ocean. And what's more, how could... whatever was going on... know what they were thinking?


That'll do for now, more later.

Vampire silliness

This is just a silly idea which occurred to me last night.

...she saw him standing like a bloodied crow on the windowsill. It was the moment she'd been praying for for years. He was here. He had come to take her away into the night. Grace got up from bed and walked over to him, fingering her necklace nervously.
"My dark Lord, I am yours!"
He sneered with joy at her and leapt to her neck, his fangs blazing glory in the twilight. Grace felt pain at first, then a rush like nothing else on Earth as he drained her. She felt her heart pounding with quickness, then a howling so inhuman... the constant howling, speaking of such great soulless pain and suffering...
She came to herself rather abruptly as she realised the Crow had stopped drinking and was looking at her strangely.
"My Lord, is it done? Am I your immortal slave now?"
The Crow stared at her and looked almost... afraid? He'd held his hand over his mouth
"My Lord...? I'm still bleeding, surely you thirst for more..." She offered herself to him once more, her blood steaming out of her artery. She was beginning to feel light headed now, surely her entry to immortality should be better than this?
The Crow stared fearfully, still covering his mouth, dripping blood between his fingers and down his chin.
Grace lost her patience at his hesitance.
"Hey, bleeding to death here, aren't you supposed to drink?!?"
"I broke my tooth on your necklace!" whimpered the Crow.
Grace was stunned.
"Oh."
The awkwardness seemed to be breeding babies of awkwardness, it was just soooo... awkward.
"Oh, well... uhm... I guess it... happens..." Grace said, fumbling for her dignity, and something to bandage the blood gushing from her neck.
"Wait, you don't think I'm less of a vampire, do you?"
"No, darling, it's fine."
"But I can still take you..."
"No, it's alright, it's fine."
"But we were so close..."
"No, I'm fine, you're fine, we're all fine. OK? It's fine." Grace somehow stopped the bleeding with her nightgown, and started guzzling water deeply from a bottle. She started feeling better (though not the kind of better she had been hoping for) and crawled back to bed.
The Crow looked heartbroken - more so than usual - and skulked to the foot of the bed. "Grace, this can't be the end. We need to be together, you and I, in darkness for all eternity..."
"Oh, I don't know..." Grace looked out the window thoughtfully, "Look, I guess I should tell you. There's another creature of the night, dear. He's a werewolf. He's always there, dependable, loyal... and his bark definately leaves a LOT of potential for his bite..."
"It's that cad, the Claw, isn't it!???" Crow sulked a little more. "I hate him! He is so... HAIRY! How could you, Grace? What did I do to you to drive you to him???"
"No, no, no, darling, it's not you, it's me. You're a wonderful, wonderful vampire, and I'll never forget you. You'll always be my special little guy." Grace's smile was so sweet it made Crow sick to (what was left of) his teeth.
"Then this is the end?"
"Yes, dear. I'm sorry."
Crow sadly stepped back out the window before turning back. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Oh, maybe, one of these days, we'll meet again and we'll be best friends."
"...but werewolves don't *like* vampires..."
"Don't trouble yourself, dear, it's fine. We'll be fine. Goodnight." Grace slammed the window on the Crow and shut the curtains.

"...can I have my tooth back?"

Running the pain away

...so this is the start of something... maybe.

I'm intending this to be a bit of a creative writing blog.

I need to commit to a frequent update - I have no idea how frequent.

But I figure if I'm going to start this creative writing shenanigan, then I'd better practice.

Oh, let me know what you think - be more constructive with your feedback however if you're planning on writing "d00d, UR lik, TEH SUCKETH"; such comments will be filed appropriately.

Today's episode: Running the pain away - a brain dump.


He closed the door and left chaos inside. Runners, sweat pants, iPod, headphones, house key, blame, all check. Okay, great, now what?
Forcing himself onto the footpath outside, he stumbled into a walk trying to convince himself that this was his time, not anyone else's, and all that rubbish he'd just walked out of at home was not going to make him think about everything that wasn't his fault.
Rounding the first corner, he broke into a sprint. He ran and ran until it hurt so much he couldn't tell the pain in his leg from the pain in his heart. Sweat beaded down his face like tears, the ground was slapping him in the feet (face?) for every infraction he'd performed that day.
At the fourth corner, he slowed to a jog, catching his breath and remembering to breathe slowly - out and in, out and in. He dropped again to a walk by the fifth corner, thinking as deep as his breathing about everything he'd caused to go wrong that day.
Rounding the ninth, tenth, and eleventh corners, he pushed himself back into a light run, working out what should happen next - a debate? A reasoned discussion? Punch-ons?
The last corner arrived and he wrestled with himself whether to run or walk. Electing to walk, he breathed again, made the last distance, and prepared himself to apologise, and fix this mess he'd made.