Kayota

[SaltandVinegar 1]

Well.... I'm not going to start this journal off with anything too special and creative, although I would like to. But...

Here is the basic

Game Plan

I hope this image isn't to big. I made it 600 X 600, but let me know. Anyway, Nothing special planned out quite yet. The main plan is for low density development next to the CBD, as well as more residential development  further north as demonstrated by the pic... blah blah blah.

[jeremy12 0]

what map are you using? is this on PO or SP

[Larks2242 251]

Great start Can't wait to see more!

[SaltandVinegar 1]

Jeremy12: It's on The Volcano, and on SP. I didn't want to get PO since I don't have a whole ton of time to use in the next two months, so it wouldn't be worth the money.

Larks2242: Thanks.

Isolated Logging Town

At the junction of SR-10 (The one that extends the whole pic) and SR-23, the city of Kayota is founded.

Homes and lots are built by several logging companies prepared to work in the nearby Wampshi and Kayota national Forests.

Soon, growth is spreading with more and more companies coming to exploit natural resources nearby...

Running the length of the screen is the new SR-12 and intersecting SR-23.

The once sleeping logging community is growing into an isolated metropolis...

TEASER

[SaltandVinegar 1]

I decided the last post was boring.

So, I'll try and spice things up...

Flannel

Francis zipped down SR-23, his truck weighed down by a load of timber. Every tree stood towering over his rig, haunting him in the cool night air of the Wampshi National Forest. He’d driven the ol’ ‘Flannel Highway’ hundreds of times into Kayota, but this night was different. He felt the chills and goose bumps shiver up his spine.

  “Frank,” Francis shook his Dalmatian awake in the passenger seat. “Come on ol’ boy, stay up with me.”

            Raising his head, a boy appeared on the highway in front of him. Frantically pulling his wheels to the left, the rig careened out of control, screeching into the grove of evergreens drowsing on the side of the road. Creaking, the rig and its trailer tipped onto its side, unleashing Francis’ load of logs.

            “Ohhh,” wailed Francis. “Frank, where are you boy?” Francis reached over to grasp his companion. Frank whimpered, softly, as the air drained from his canine lungs.

            Francis felt the tears, but failed to wipe them, instead stretching for the window, pulling himself into the night air. Cool breezes blew threw the trees. His nose itching with the stench of the gasoline drenched air. 

  “Crap,” Francis hopped to his feet, limping about fifty feet from the wreckage. Adrenaline pumping, Francis felt his heart beating like a rapid metronome. Holding his cool, Francis sat down for a second on the side of the highway. Cuts, bruises numbered high on his body, and Francis sat only wondering what had happened.

            That boy. I saw a boy. Francis stood back up, stumbling passed the wreckage, meandering around spewed logs, to where he saw the boy enter onto the highway. Scouring in the darkness, with only the light of the moon, Francis searched for any sign of what he had seen. In the corner of his eye, what appeared to be a blanket rested on the roadway, partially underneath a log. Upon closer inspection, Francis saw the arm of a small boy sprawled out from underneath the log…

 

 

To Be Continued…