From the author

Hello. I am Wally - aka subsistcyber - aka Lance Jackson - aka - - -

Every day sometime between 2am and 8am PST, I assume the role of Lance Jackson on the NoPixel Whitelist GTA5 Roleplay Server. 

All live streams can be found on twitch. 

All edited footage is published to youtube. 

Frequency - As often as I can.

All of Lance's thoughts and feelings and interactions are recorded here, in my words.

This is his story. 

"Can you show me the way?" Lance asked, gesturing for Canter to escort him out of the hospital. The hallway outside of ICU was packed full of people, and that made him nervous. He glanced at a man in scrubs that was armed with an automatic assault rifle, then averted his gaze as he passed.

"One second," Canter said, stopping at a group of doctors. Under her breath, "Is he free to be discharged?" She eyed Lance as she asked, her accent stretching the vowels.

The Doctor looked Lance up and down and replied, "He's awake and test results were negative for infection, so he's free to go home." He then turned his attention back to the others to continue his conversation. 

Canter sent Lance a smile and gestured for him to follow through a pair of massive double-doors. As she led him, she began, "You are going to have to sign some forms at the front desk to acknowledge that care was given to you for the last few days."

"I understand," Lance responded under his breath. His groin still ached and he had an odd pain in his abdomen, but he was happy to be walking again. After signing the papers, Canter escorted him to the front door. Lance stopped her before she turned away, "Is there anywhere to go for food?" He asked. 

"For food..." She thought, "Uhhhh... I think yer closest option here - unfortunately we're not that close to anything - but if you can get to the car rental there is both UwU and Maldinis over by Little Seoul - and if one is closed you can check out the other." Her words ran on like a sentence chanted by a Southern monk. "But I do prefer Shrugway myself over there in Mirror Park."

"Thank you," Lance responded, simply. 

"Yes, of course," Canter replied. "You let me know if you need anything, alright?" It was as though she felt it were something she was supposed to say. How was Lance supposed to respond? 

"Thank you," Lance responded, simply. 

As Lance began walking away, he heard her whisper under her breath, "Good luck..." 

Perhaps that was a prediction of things to come. 

The city always intimidated Lance. It had been two years since he had gotten out of Fort Zancudo, but even before his court martial he avoided the crowds. The lights, sounds, yelling, honking, gunshots, explosions - it was all too much. A simple map at a bus stop provided Lance with all the directions he needed. UwU would have to be his first stop. He needed food. 

A straight shot down Adam's Apple Boulevard brought Lance to UwU's parking lot. But first, he stopped at each trash can and dumpster - he'd learned early on that others' excess often times became his fortune. As a child he'd dumpster-dive with his father, pulling out the recyclables and more interesting items. It was amazing what people threw away. He took this lesson to life after getting out of Zancudo. As a dishonorably discharged veteran, he knew his chances of being hired anywhere were slim. Now he lived one bin at a time, working his way to UwU for a bite to eat.  

He was immediately set upon in UwU's parking lot, "Hey stranger!" 

Lance glanced over, spotting a feminine figure atop a motorcycle. She was covered, head-to-toe, and would have been impossible to identify in any other outfit. She exuded confidence as she pulled her motorcycle past Lance and into an open spot.

Lance approached cautiously, not knowing what to expect. She came around a set of bushes, limping as though in pain. "Come over here," she demanded. Lance approached. He couldn't tell if she were pale, wearing makeup, or a mask. Quite frankly, her appearance was terrifying.

"Are you in the market for a new vehicle?" She asked, nonchalantly. 

Lance chuckled. "Nah..." He said, "I can't drive." It was true. He hadn't driven anything in two decades.

"What about storage?" She followed-up. 

"I have nothing to store," Lance replied. It was obvious he wasn't the customer she was looking for. The hospital did his laundry and he had a shower, so perhaps she mistook him for someone with a bank account.

Her phone began to ring. "I have to take this phone call," she said dismissively. Lance complied, walking past her towards UwU cafe. "Yo - yo - it's Ruth." 

"I don't even have a phone," Lance muttered, walking past a muscle car towards the side of the building.

He figured there would have to be something worth scrounging in the cafe's dumpsters. And there was. More food than he could fit in a single box. After gathering it all together, he intended to ask for permission to take it. Usually they'd add their own fresh meals to the box then send him on his way. He was going to eat well.

"Hey, I'm reeeeally sorry," Lance heard from behind him. He half-pulled himself from the dumpster to look behind him. Two men, both armed, one pointing a semi-automatic pistol at the back of his head, "Yup - yup - one of those days," the man concluded.