Home Trending Latest threads New posts Developer diaries

New Zealand: Land of the Long Red Cloud

Jump to latest Follow Reply
  • We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Jalex: I never knew you were from Aucks, what part?

Trekaddict: I forget that when I make these things some people show up just to mock us :mad:. Nah, apparently the number of sheep is declining massively, there is no money in sheep farming anymore. Still, the stigma will remain...

Colonel Bran: Curse LOTR. They actually have tours of that now. "And here is another hill where they filmed something" "ooohhhh ahhhh" take photos, move to next hill. Bah. "Orlando Bloom sat on that rock there!" "Oooohh, ahhh" :p. But thanks for the kind words!
 
Chapter Three​
I had been working at the supermarket for about five months now. Five months of getting up every Saturday morning and trudging down the road. It wasn’t that the work was hard; far from it. It was probably the easiest job I’ve ever had, but god was it ever boring. The Killers started to tell me that they were Mr Brightside as I began the walk. The most infuriating thing about work was its distance. There was a supermarket owned by the same chain not 5 minutes from my flat. My place of work however, was a solid 40 minute walk from the flat. While this was nice during summer, it was most certainly not pleasant in the heart of winter.

As I had showered, the wind had picked up. It sliced through my jumper and ski jacket as if they weren’t there. I shouldn’t have given my warm jacket to Siobhan. Then again, she needed it more. The temperature must have been about 4 degrees Celsius, but with the windchill it felt like it was -5. My hands began to go numb. The song in my ear changed. The Killers left, to be replaced by Audioslave, who informed me that to be myself is all that I could do. I thought I was doing that quite nicely. During the lull between the songs, I heard the fair noise of an airplane labouring to climb. I allowed myself a quick daydream of what it would be like up there. Sure, they would have been up earlier than me, but having an awesome job to go to would make up for it. I imagined breaking through the clouds and seeing the stars laid out above me, pushing in more power, climbing higher. But that was all it was, my imagination. Onward to the produce department and my own private purgatory.

While I daydreamed, I had reached Castle Street. The thing about Castle Street is that it is almost exclusively inhabited by students. The street was flanked by old, worn out flats, with overgrown gardens. Also in abundance was the evidence this was the student area. Empty cans of beer lay scattered on the road. Wine bottles lay broken in the gutter. Every now and then I stepped over a plastic 2 litre bottle of cider that still had duct tape on it from its previous owner playing ‘cider hands’. Further along, a burnt out couch lay on the sidewalk. This had been a popular pastime for students that I had never managed to grasp. Why burn a good couch? The University was also taking a dim view on it, and had put strict rules in place, along with signs proclaiming ‘that’s not just a couch you’re burning; it’s your degree!’ I found the signs hilarious. I couldn’t begin to imagine the roaring trade that KFC and McDonalds would do in about four hours when these very hung over students manage to pry their eyes open. There but for the grace of god...

I was nearly half way there now. As Castle Street ended, the University of Otago began. Old flats gave way to modern buildings with glass facades. Inside I could see lights that hadn’t been switched off. I idly wondered why businesses don’t switch off all their lights when they finish. Surely it costs a bomb in power bills? Mingled within these new flash buildings were the old buildings of the original University. These were buildings made of strong stone, with stained glass windows and big oak panelled doors. They were awesome. The clocktower stood on the opposite side of the Leith River, although to call it a river was somewhat of an exaggeration. The hands on the illuminated face of the clocktower were pointing to a quarter past six. A series of bings and bongs rang out from the bowels of the tower, telling all within a 200 metre radius that it was still too early to be out of bed. All those wise enough to still be in bed.

I left the Uni and began to close in on work. This took be beside the hospital, which was a huge khaki-grey colour building that dominated an entire block. It stood eight stories high, the highest windows were just starting to get some glare from the rising sun behind me. I looked away, and spared a though for those within. The nurses inside would be looking forward to the end of their shift at seven, as they had started at eleven the night before. Then there were those who wouldn’t be getting out of bed again, ever. It was those people who I really thought of.

I rounded the final corner before work. The Foo Fighters began to tell me to come alive. I was only just starting to feel alive after getting up so early.
I lay there in the dark
I know the feeling Mr Grohl,
And I close my eyes...
Oh how I wish I could do that right now,
You saved me, the day you came alive.
That was a very nice sentiment, but the best bit of the song, was coming up. The part where they brought the guitar into it...
The rising sun behind me sent rays that hit the windows of the supermarket. Five more minutes and I’ll be there. Sigh. The glare caused me to squint, before finally having to look at something else. I looked down and turned up the volume on my iPod so I could fully appreciate the guitar.
Come alive, come alive, come alive, come alive, come alive, come alive, come alive, come alive...
Here it was... the guitar solo... I love it every time.

The windows at work shattered, unexpectedly going from smooth, reflecting glass, into a maelstrom of flying debris. Completely and utterly destroyed. Shards of glass flew in all directions. An explosion erupted from the building in front of me. Tall pillars of flame burst out and reached for the sky. Above the noise of Dave Grohl screaming in my ears I could hear the explosion issue forth from the ruined structure and echo around me. I flinched back in inital fear, before standing and looking at the scene, my mouth gaping open in horror, my feet rooted to the ground. What is this??
 
Last edited:
Nice work, you can really build an atmosphere. I couldv'e sworn it was just going to be another normal day. But if it were I guess you wouldn't write about it.
 
Teep: Thanks! I was trying to. Funnily enough this came to me as I was walking to work, under the hospital and thought, 'what would happen if work exploded?' then it was just a matter of figuring out how to make it happen!

On another note, for those New Zealanders out there I just want to say... ewwww Steinlager! :rofl:
 
I'm more a The Who fan, but I still liked it. Continue.
 
trekaddict said:
I'm more a The Who fan, but I still liked it. Continue.
Click to expand...

I live to serve... I hope to pump out another chapter tomorrow. I only have one Who song: Pinball Wizard. In fact I just put it on. Good song indeed. You dont find The Killers, Audioslave and Foo Sighters appropriate to my tale? :D

I hope everyoone has heard 'Come Alive' by the Foos, or else that part would be pointless.
 
Raaritsgozilla said:
Inform me of some decent songs and I am there!
Click to expand...

The Acid Queen, Won't get fooled again, Who are you (the last two of CSI fame, as CSI Miami and New York use them as theme tunes ), The Song is over, and these are just my favourites.
 
Oh and I forgot: Baba O' Reilly is a song you shouldn't miss.
 
What is it with people doing comedy AARs then going on to do great narrative ones? First phargle, now you! Frankly it's lucky I'm planning one for the new year or the peer pressure might be getting to me.

Anyway an excellent start and I do look forward to seeing where you go with this. :D
 
El Pip said:
What is it with people doing comedy AARs then going on to do great narrative ones? First phargle, now you! Frankly it's lucky I'm planning one for the new year or the peer pressure might be getting to me.

Anyway an excellent start and I do look forward to seeing where you go with this. :D
Click to expand...


I never did a Comedy AAR. :p
 
Fernando Torres: Unexpected is the way to go!

Colonel Bran: Thanks, its had long enough to figure out in my head, so it should be alright lol. Alas, no update today, just woke up at 2.30 pm and am hung over, maybe tomorrow though!

Rocky43: Thanks, but stating the obvious much? :D

El Pip: I think it is something in the water. But thanks!

Trekaddict: Havent got any songs yet, but I will, someday... Maybe you SHOULD do an comedy AAR!
 
Ok, update time!

And I would like to thank El Pip for nominating me for fan of the week! Cheers!
 
Chapter Four​

I stood transfixed, staring at the flame engulfed edifice that used to be my place of work. A thick pall of smoke wound its way toward the heavens, signalling to all in the city that something was seriously, seriously amiss. If I hadn’t taken so long in the shower... If I hadn’t stood there talking to Dave and Siobhan for that long... The consequences were too grave to contemplate at this time. I started to take tentative steps toward the inferno, the realisation sinking in that everyone that I had worked with and knew no longer existed anymore. My earphones dangled uselessly in front of my chest, Dave Grohl changing from screaming to singing in a soothing voice. Funnily enough, I did not find it very soothing at all.

From the ringing in my ears, a new sound began to emerge. It had persistently been coming closer and closer, but my addled brain had not managed to recognise it. A feeling of impending doom began to weasel its way up my back. I had half turned to see what the noise was when I realised that it was already upon me. Again, I flinched and half fell to the ground as the shadow swept over me. The air was filled with the noise of tearing paper. I followed the shadow to see what the hell was happening. The shadow flitted overhead, just seeming to skim to top of the hospital, before wheeling away into a left hand barrel roll. I had seen pictures of them on the internet and in books, hell, I’d flown one in a computer game, but still my brain struggled to comprehend what my eyes were telling it. Flying over top of me was a Russian made Sukhoi SU-27, a fighter aircraft that definitely should not inhabit the skies over Dunedin, New Zealand.

As I stared after the departing jet, it pulled up into a hard climb. A small object fell from the bottom of it, plummeting earthward at a very high rate of speed. After a few seconds a motor kicked in, and the missile, for that is what I was now certain it was, streaked off into the horizon. The jet made another hard turn before heading back the way it had come. In the distance I heard a dull boom, followed by another plume of fire and smoke. This was bad. I turned and started to run for home.

My legs pumped harder than they had ever worked before. My breath came in heaving gasps as I pushed my body harder than it had been designed to go. I wasn’t sure why I was heading home. Why would that scummy old flat be more of a haven than anywhere else? In a world turned upside down, where is safe? It didn’t matter; it was where I wanted to be. Chaos began to rule as people poked their head outside. Two more missiles slammed into the city behind me. The shrieking of jet engines above had to compete with the screams that were beginning to rise in volume, as well as number. My lungs were burning too much to be capable of making any sound.

I had just reached Castle Street when I saw a figure lying in a crumpled mess in the middle of the road. It seemed that a wayward missile had hit one of the flats on the side of the road. Flames licked hungrily up the blue paintwork, while the roof sagged, dangerously threatening to collapse. Castle Street now looked like a war zone in the literal sense, not just metaphorical. I began to head past the body in the street. A McDonalds bag lay beside it, a half eaten bacon and egg McMuffin littering the asphalt. I would have passed it by faster had something not twigged in my panicked mind. The jacket on the figure looked suspiciously like one I owned... oh no.

I rushed to Siobhan’s side. A nasty bruise on her temple now complemented the hickey on her neck. Small pieces of glass had embedded themselves in her leg. I bent my ear to her lips; she was breathing, so I guess that was something. She must have been to Maccas on her way home to try and get a head start on curing her hangover. From the direction she was headed, it looked as if she was lucky she had, seeing as her flat was now burning even more furiously. She moaned briefly, then her eyes shot open, showing a mix of horror and confusion.
“...Jay? Wha, huh?” She began to try and get to her feet. Her legs buckled, and she whimpered in pain as the glass in her leg made itself felt. Behind us, the roof of her flat finally lost the fight against the fire and collapsed in a shower of sparks. Pieces of ash began to float down upon us.
“I know, I have no idea what the fuck is going on, we gotta move!” I grunted as a hauled her onto her feet. She put her weight on me, and we began to hobble up the road to my flat, not 100 metres away. Her hair flew into may face as the wind caught it and stung my eyes. The whine of jet engines had died away, leaving only an ominous void filled with an increasing amount of screaming, accompanied by the crackle of fires. No more explosions punctured the landscape. We managed to reach to front door of the flat, which had miraculously survived the attack. I hurriedly swung open to the door and none-too-gently pushed Siobhan into the flat, before spinning around to shut the door. My mind was in disarray, Dunedin was burning, people were dead. I was almost about to shut down in panic when a new sound interrupted the screams.

The droning sound of more aircraft engines filled the sky. I craned my neck up to see what they were. Siobhan, supported by Dave joined me at the door.
“Jay, what’s going on?” Dave whispered. I didn’t know why he was whispering, yet it seemed oddly appropriate. Above us, four engine planes clawed through the morning sky. At least 20 of them could be seen as they cruised over the city.
“Man, I have no idea what this shit is, Dave” I whispered back. The planes continued on their march. Suddenly, a flurry of activity occurred. Behind each plane now stretched what looked like very small clouds. I strained my eyes to see what they were. Parachutes...
“Oh fuck...”
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back