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So the point of this topic is to create something fun and interesting for people to read on Dakka. It is like the stories we did when, SOME of us, were young. I begin with a start to a story. The next person adds to the story and so on and so forth. What follows are the rules.

1. 1 sentence minimum. 10 sentences maximum. (If you are beaten to a post please revise your post or edit it down to just say LATE.
2. Keep to the story and try to maintain some form of 40k reality to it. (Keep it reading like a story. No ...and the universe explodes.)
3. Must follow the main character, no killing him till the 50th post. After that the 51st poster can choose another character to lead the story if desired.
4. Posts can be funny, dark, upbeat, silly, serious or anything you want as long as you keep the plot moving forward.


The glow globs weak light spilled across the cobble stone street. Their energy cutting out periodically with small popping sounds. Causing portions of Hab unit 456 to flicker in and out of perception, leaving only occasional ghost traces of seemingly deserted buildings in its wake. The reddish light flashing like a pic caster bulb highlighted the wet filthy streets. Small puddles of water covered in mildew or worse reflected the light and gave the appearance of blood. As if the very buildings themselves were bleeding.

The street itself was worn from centuries of routine comings and goings of the people of Hoatu. From the tired dragging feet of the indentured workers of the steel mill to the frantic feet of children playing various games, none could be heard or seen this night. It was as if the very buildings themselves had stolen them up for some unknown purpose. Only the sound of the glow globes popping intermittently could be herd. "Well that is a more than a little bit unsettling." Said Narin as he idlely chewed on his thumb nail. His jacket was slick with rain following the quick storm that had just hit. The storm passed almost as fast as it began. As if someone had tossed out their bed pan out the window and hit him square. "Almost wished some one had," he thought, crinkling his nose. "Might smell a touch better." Narins teeth finally tore a small piece of nail from his thumb. Spiting it out, he frowned noticing the bloody nub that he used to call a thumb. His nervous tic that had got a bit out of control the last few days. He winced as few drops of rain fell from his cap and splashed on his hand burning the exposed raw flesh. "I hate this fracking job." 15 years now he thought working as a .....