Post nuclear war RP where England died and Sealand grew up. Written in January. 

I really wished we continued this 

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It’s hard to remember a time before the internet. A time when everything wasn’t as simple as the click of a mouse and conveniently delivered to a brightly lit screen in an instant. News wasn’t momentary, it could take weeks to find out what’s going on somewhere relatively close by. A time when words disappeared when people forgot them. A time when communicating could be impossible. A time when expressing yourself was much more difficult.
There were other methods, however. There always were. Before internet, there was television. Before television…

There was radio. 
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        Recently, with all the boats docking themselves nearby, Sealand had to pull out all of his tools in an attempt to make repairs for whoever needed them. Each day more and more ships would pull in-be it for the trade, to find a place to stay for a while, or temporarily just for some repairs so they could continue on their way. 

         On this particularly clear night, Sealand couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of his family, friends, and past memories were running through his head, reignited by interacting with all the families he was taking care of. He went into the deepest part of the fort’s storage, rummaging through old belongings and things long forgotten. In the background, the shadow of his aged guard loomed by the door. Most of his toys had already been given to the children, but he managed to find a few remaining action figures amongst his boxed possessions. He picked one up and dusted it off with a gentle smile. This one was from Christmas…From…

He paused. 

England. 

His smile faded away and he set the toy aside. 

           In the far back of the storage stood a box tightly shut. The box looked somewhat familiar… Sealand slowly approached it and grabbed the lid, taking no precaution before prying it off. Inside of it was older looking electronics that took him a moment to identify. It was radio equipment. 
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On an abandoned frequency….

Fzzzzt. Fzzzzzzzt. 

The first sound to come about that wavelength in decades. The faded sound of whirring. 

Fzzzz….

Mumbling could be heard.

Tap, tap. 

“Is it on…?” 

It was a man’s voice. 

“It’s working?” 

“Ahem.”

The nervous voice drew closer to the microphone once more, stammering as he began to speak.

“W-welcome to…”

It wasn’t his first time working this, there probably wasn’t anyone listening. Why would anyone be listening to the radio right now? Did anyone use radio anymore? …It didn’t really matter, did it? 

He cleared his throat and began again. 

“Good evening. This is Radio Essex, broadcasting live. I’m your host, P.K. The first hit, a song from way back. ‘Green, Green, Grass of Home’.”

The screeching of a needle faded as the old song began to play. 

OOC: MAYBE IT IS DRAMATIC 

I just found this on my comp, it was written a while ago so it’s still a little rusty. 

I like reviews. 

Currently still a WIP! Current characters- England, Sealand 

Description: Uhh Sealand wakes up to the Powers Ranger’s theme

and then 

stuff happens ??? 

THEME: Uh…um. Angst?? AU…uhh…

I’m horrible with descriptions just read the bloody fic. 

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(( okay the plot is Julchen and Sealand accidentally magic’d off the planet and onto Gunsmoke ( you know, the Trigun place ) and they meet Vash. Sealand gets an epiphany on how to make money as they’re walking to an undetermined location when his thoughts are interrupted by that prussian chick

this is like one of the only writing examples I have on me because my computer with all my stuff is next to me and not turning on )) 

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* “East” didn’t really mean anything to him. North, south, east, west, everything just seemed…new. He didn’t know where they were in terms of location on the planet or even about other cities. Jeez, this is why GPS is so useful. What’s he supposed to do without Google…it wouldn’t even be called Google Earth here. * Fufufu… * It would probably be called something weird. And Google wouldn’t even be called Google. The internet wouldn’t be internet. Computers…he didn’t really know how many computers there were. Just then, Sealand had an epiphany! If the things that were popular on Earth didn’t exist on this planet… his face beamed with a mischievous grin. Not that the slowpokes behind him would be able to see it, anyway. *

  * What would he do first? Books seemed like the easiest option until he could get a grasp on what the technology was like here. Though, he had to admit, he was pretty good at singing. He did it a lot in the shower, and, not to boast or anything, but he’s not that bad at it. Anime and cartoon theme songs are his specialty. Books! Right, books. Harry Potter had just ended, so… maybe he could re write Harry Potter? He looked around him. Harry Potter would make no sense in a world like this. Sealand began to pity the people on this planet, they don’t know the meaning of “magic”…. Have they ever seen a magician?

Or a mage? Or a wizard? There weren’t any fairies nearby, either. N-not that he’d say if there were, at least when other people are around. But even here fairies might be comforting sometimes. Maybe that Prussian bastard would be a little NICER if she could see fairies. It’s hard to be angry around them…how does that Jerk manage to be such…a him?! Hmph, it’s of no concern t-* UWA! * His thoughts were inturrupted and he stumbles forward a few feet* Hey, what was that for?!

Outside his window, the only thing visible was the black of night. The house was quiet-aside from the faint sound of a movie echoing through the halls. The dimmed, white lamp atop the recently organized desk whined, and the fan of the large, polished laptop gently whirring along with it in some sort of harmony. 

Sealand lay on the floor with his laptop, typing up nonsense and looking up more of what he shouldn’t be this late at night. Which is to say, anything. The wires and chords tangled around him, most of leading up to devices still sitting on the desk. A few of them, however, mainly the ones connected to speakers and a mic, sat beside him on either side of his faithful computer. 

His head, resting on a pillow he’d dragged from his bed some hours earlier, stared directly at the computer screen. It seemed to get brighter by the second, and Sealand’s eyelids seemed to get heavier equally as fast. His hands grew tired from typing all day, but he barely noticed through all of his mindless excitement of what he’d been doing. Games, forums, blogging, Wikipedia, Youtube…the entire world was at his fingertips. He’d never be able to get used to this, despite how long he’s had internet connection. Who would be able to take such an amazing thing for granted? Maybe that jerk. Hmph. 

Sealand was in the middle of typing up an elaborate review of an anime that had recently finished airing when his eyes became particularly irritated. He shook his head violently, trying to ward off any signs of sleepiness. The world doesn’t sleep, so neither will I! 

It didn’t cease. After a few minutes, and after he began to realize that his reviews were becoming less and less coherent, Sealand decided that shutting his eyes just for a moment would do no harm. Once the sensation of wanting to sleep had passed, he’d open them once more and finish up writing his long awaited opinion of the show. Perfect. He wouldn’t sleep. It wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t that weak. 

He set his computer to mute, just in case some music began to play or he received a notification while he was…resting his eyelids. He removed his hands from the keyboard and clutched the pillow he was resting upon. Slowly, he closed his eyes. 

Within moments, he’d fallen asleep. 

It would only be a few minutes later he would be carefully carried to bed by loving arms.

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“Good night, Peter.” 

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Have a drabble. Wrote it a while ago.

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It was that tree again. 

Peter grabbed hold of the branches, making sure to move his feet somewhere safe before carefully moving his hands upward. He took another step, using his arms only for balance, allowing all of his weight to be supported by his feet. Legs are stronger, after all, and if he slipped he probably couldn’t hold himself up by his arms alone. Not like he was a superhero. Yet. 

The tree, a mighty tree, the tallest of which Peter had ever seen, stood there for as long as he could remember. Trees were popular in mythology, often being magical, even being the center of life. If he could climb to the top, he thought, he’d be able to see the entire world. It’d probably make that damn jerk jealous, too. He tried climbing the damn thing several times, but always got scared only a few feet up and had to be carried down. His last attempt was over a year ago, after nearly falling off of it and being forced to descend back to the ground before he could even see the top.  There had recently been a rainstorm, making it even harder to get hold of everything. It must have been the rain that inspired him to climb, reminding him of his fort…

Half way up. Peter didn’t dare to look down, knowing that he’d probably get scared again. That and there was an annoying voice yelling at him to get down, he didn’t want to make eye contact with him, either. Watch and learn, jerk. Gonna go higher than you ever could. 

Right foot, left foot. Right hand, left hand. He repeated this process as he slowly ascended the tree. He was going to do it this time for sure, there’s no turning back. Peter already was picturing the view at the top, looking down to see the stupid face he would have, jealous and in awe of how AMAZING Peter was. Peter would climb down slowly, listening to nothing but the calming wind, and proceed to laugh in his face when he finally reached earth. He’d be a hero, that’s for sure. Everyone would praise him. 

That’s how it would go in his head, anyway.

The wind began picking up as the tree began to shake. He was almost there, just a few more steps. The entire tree was swaying as the voice below him got louder. He wasn’t going to give up, no way in hell! He clung tightly to the trunk and waited for it to stop moving, holding on to anything that could possibly keep him up. Not like there was much up there other than branches. The wind wasn’t slowing down any time soon, he had to climb before it got worse. It had to be done now. Right foot, left foot, right hand, left hand. Right foot… 

He slipped. 

The wind shook his foot out of the hold, his arms couldn’t hold him. He began to fall, being battered by the leaves and stray branches. He tried to grab a hold of some of them, but he was falling too fast. The tiny twigs slipped through his fingers like water, the larger ones snapped off with a sound similar to a toothpick being broken in half. This was it, he wouldn’t be able to climb for a long time, if ever. A fall from this high, he could be in the hospital forever, he thought. His mind was racing. He held his eyes closed tight, tears began to trickle out as he braced himself for the ground. Covering his head, he prepared for the worst.

He landed…into the familiar arms of a certain someone.