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Hey everyone, my name is Cernunos (I wish) and I'm a Central kid. Born on the outskirts of Old Bellevue (shout out to the Crossroads kids), we moved around a lot before moving in towards Central. I went to college for a little while but left because I was getting a bit restless. I've got a cool crew of about half a dozen and we aren't afraid to get necro. Rez and Nikhal grew up with me and I've known them since middle school. Mazer, Kibra, and Alex all came later, found them at a meetup only a few years after the Beacons. Finally there is Lamb (the name's Lambert but we like to call him that, Lamb hates it though) who is our trusty cameraman, he contacted me after my old blog caught some attention. Anyways, I don't wanna hold you up too much longer, check out my blog and see where I've been.
GOING NORTH - 7/23/2074
posted by Carnunos
When were all much younger, before the Beacons were built, my mom used to stay up late telling us stories about her world, this curious place without walls and with Death still an impending thing in the dark. I remember the countryside from when I was a kid, but we never had pets so Death was never a conversation that came up. Our favorite stories, out in that open land, were ghost stories. They would always be set in the same place too, an abandoned house out beyond the grass, far away from any home or even a simple dirt road. To reach these houses you would have to be truly lost. The victims of these stories were usually children who didn't listen to their parents. Now, looking back, I realize that even living in the country the idea of a place so far from civilization was absurd.
Today we explored the Juanita Mudflats, and these ghost stories kept coming back into my head. Those old haunted houses were always abandoned. Out there, even on the edge of New Bellevue, the shacks were never empty. We didn't go clambering around some forsaken ruin this time, just wandered around a lost part of the city. Space is so important that the whole of the 'Flats is occupied, and much of it is just boards stood up against each other. Plenty of narrow alleys and small doorways leading away from the lights. The people who would talk to us said that anytime a room was left empty for even a day, someone would show up and occupy it.
When we made it to the edge of the encampment, there was a sort of low stone wall that people said marked the high tide, I thought of it as the edge of civilization. Sitting on that wall looking out at Juanita Lake, and beyond that the wreck of Seattle, was really calming. Way more quiet than Central ever gets. Anyways, thanks everyone for reading and maybe next week I'll go somewhere a little more dangerous.
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