diff --git a/notepad.mdwn b/notepad.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61a4748
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,6 @@
+[[!meta title="stuff on my notepad"]]
+
+Random crap I write goes here. The name of each story is chosen at random. None
+of these have anything to do with any existing work.
+
+[[!inline pages="notepad/*"]]
diff --git a/notepad/=31=4=134=.mdwn b/notepad/=31=4=134=.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15ab166
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/=31=4=134=.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,6 @@
+I jump into where the elevator should be. Nothing but tether now. I drop down a
+bit as my eyes adjust, and notice I am cornered not only above in the third
+floor but in this shaft, too.
+
+"Let's see, one, two…" I count the demons. "And then one, two, three groups of
+them. Oh *fuck*, that's 9."
diff --git a/notepad/====cc.mdwn b/notepad/====cc.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44e4aea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/====cc.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,7 @@
+White clouds cover our sins just as we do often–
+
+I might say that the clouds don't have to try nearly as hard.
+
+Maybe one day we will be just as good as them,
+
+and end up seeming just as pure.
diff --git a/notepad/]]1414-2.mdwn b/notepad/]]1414-2.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fdbdcc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/]]1414-2.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,25 @@
+Dreamers dream in a small night, periling over themselves
+
+peril never ends, unlike them does not sleep
+
+they could try harder
+
+they couldn't try harder, but so is thought
+
+afraid because they won't be who they want to be
+
+won't be the image everyone made for them
+
+they can't live up to it,
+
+though they feel desires, suppress it
+
+though they feel pride, don't possess it
+
+they forget
+
+and so it continues
+
+dreamers dream of no one's self
+
+only to find them not themself
diff --git a/notepad/]]1414-3.mdwn b/notepad/]]1414-3.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee83d37
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/]]1414-3.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+Find it and don't fix it, and don't think of how
+
+you find it, you feel it, it comes back around
diff --git a/notepad/naruto.mdwn b/notepad/naruto.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..978df0d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/naruto.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,9 @@
+[[!meta title="naruto was better than I expected"]]
+
+夢の中で三の井戸見られた。あの井戸に行きながら起きてしまったが、「命」なんてものを感じた・・・・
+
+夢だったって思ったのだが。その井戸が命。その井戸が審理というもの、その見られた夢は現実であったもの。
+
+命の井戸で一次の真力を思い出した。「変われ」という力。そういうものがある・・・・・
+
+考え中で、ただ起きた。
diff --git a/notepad/orion-1.mdwn b/notepad/orion-1.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8856ef9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/orion-1.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,49 @@
+[[!meta title="Orion-1"]]
+
+Year unknown. The Earth is at constant war. There is no longer peace, and
+technology has forced the masses to submit.
+
+An unknown force launches a gigantic spacecraft that engulfs the world in
+flame. Very few survived this attack, and only ten thousand humans remain on
+the planet.
+
+20 years pass. Society has yet to fully rebuild. For years, they observe Mars,
+now mysteriously shrouded in metal.
+
+Year unknown. The biological mutants of the last era are found roaming the
+Earth. *Hunter Team* are formed by a powerful family to exterminate the last of
+them.
+
+After a night observing the metal planet, the head of Hunter Team, Graś,
+recalls a legend; the legend of ORION-1 — a cybernetic beast created to rend
+the world of sin not once – but twice. Yet while a hundred years ago this may
+have seemed just a folk tale, now he knows it to be real. Recalling odd
+details put out online such as the estimated weight of such a creature, it
+seems simply too accurate to the situation to not be true.
+
+Year unknown. Hunter Team is mobilized to stop the legendary beast after
+gargantuan ion storms rain down from Mars, obliterating cities and killing
+hundreds – forcing humanity to once again retreat to the underground.
+
+The first flame killed over 8 billion, enough to nearly wipe the earth clean.
+Now Orion is trying to finish the job.
+
+"I had an 80-round around here somewhere. Last I recall it was just sitting
+in this chair, but father must have hidden it just before the first
+attack." The young man sifts through various containers, looking for his
+gun.
+
+Meanwhile, his fellow hunter cracks open the floorboard, and she gleams –
+"Ooh, looks like there's a bunch of stuff down here."
+
+The boy springs to action and begins sifting through the dozens of various
+broken lever-action rifles and beach towels for some reason contained within
+the floor, and finds an 80-round drum magazine in the rubbish. "Here's the
+spare mag I had when I went hunting. Now where's..." He wonders, while the
+girl holds something infront of his face. "This it?" She questions,
+holding a strange – and, in the pile of rifles – out of place sub-machine
+gun.
+
+"Yes! That's it. Thank you," he says, grabbing the gun rather hastily
+from her hands. With an ugly drum round and simple, un-ergonomic front grip,
+the gun is not the prettiest.
diff --git a/notepad/paul.mdwn b/notepad/paul.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..823f73d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/paul.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
+[[!meta title="Paul"]]
+
+The day was pretty long, but eventually we got onto the ship. The anti-gravity
+chambers were always a bit odd to get used to, but it certainly wasn't the
+worst part of my day. As we finally lifted off the ground sitting in the lunch
+room, our instructor briefed us on the situation.
+
+"Cadets. This discovery is perhaps mankind's strangest. We'll be touching down
+in about 15 minutes, so eat quickly. It's a system not far from our own which
+for decades we have somehow overlooked. In essence, it is a direct copy of our
+planetary system. It appears that some few centuries ago, a giant part of the
+population of the planet was replaced. Only approximately one tenth of the
+planet is even inhabited by life. Much of that is not carbon based lifeforms,
+but silicon based ones. It seems that artificial life forms have somehow
+replaced most of the natural inhabitants of the planet, and buried them under
+ground. They do not take well to us, either."
+
+The instructor's words were bewildering, to say the least. Without any time to
+dwell on the matter, the automated announcement system beeped and said, "Please
+brace for impact. This ship is landing at CX-43-01-06."
+
+After the turbulence stopped and we deshipped, we were met with the strangest
+sight we'd ever seen. Earth, as we knew it centuries ago in the early 2000s,
+but with no sign of life anywhere. Giant buildings still stood decrepit and
+filled with green, fields for miles where perhaps there were roads and
+highways. And to complete the sight, there were robotic life forms of dozens of
+kinds, roaming the wild, flying high above, crawling the ground. One which
+stood out to me was a towering black robot with two legs and no arms. Its body
+was sort of cylindrical, horizontally. It reminded me of an ape, although
+veritably huge and with no arms. Actually, I guess the analogy falls apart the
+more you think about it.
+
+Among the fields were various researchers who had set up camps, monitoring
+these life forms and surveying the landscape. We were directed to one
+particular research team, named "Paul."
+
+We were designated to search a particular building, the teams all were
+organized to search in a pattern across the landing city. Ours was a
+restaraunt. The moment I walked in with the others I could tell it was going to
+be a problem; the geometry of the room was particular and clearly altered to
+suit some inhabitant which had been living in it for a while. I stopped the
+team as we entered, pointing to the various traps laid about. Some of them
+didn't believe me, but with enough coaxing I was permitted to search alone.
+
+One of – no, perhaps the sole inhabitant – was running wildly about. It was an
+oddly shaped, sort-of flat being. Grey, sort of beige likely due to dirt. It
+flung itself through the room, avoiding every trap it had laid, almost mocking
+me. I was myself a thin and acrobatic person, so I chased it, like a game we
+were both having fun playing. Despite the clearly deadly traps, I had a lot of
+fun running after this thing, and eventually I caught it. The robotic being was
+not hostile by nature, and from that I had guessed that perhaps none of them
+were.
diff --git a/notepad/thecake.mdwn b/notepad/thecake.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c4e3e02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/thecake.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,79 @@
+[[!meta title="The Cake of Reason"]]
+
+It was midnight, and the being that had erupted from the southern volcano was
+rampaging still, throwing away the lives of millions.
+
+Millions lost to our lack of foresight. But we cannot do anything now. The
+beast never sleeps. It only grows.
+
+I saw a child, with her mother; the child looked up to me and said, "Is my
+daddy doing good in the war?" So I thought, this young lady knew too well of
+the sitaution. But still I replied to her, "Yes, I saw him just a few minutes
+ago preparing to depart."
+
+Her mother cried, but she stood silent.
+
+So I said to him, my partner, "David, is this not too far gone? Is it even
+possible to save merely one life at this point?"
+
+"I can't leave this place knowing we didn't try. We must keep fighting."
+
+"David, surely you jest—"
+
+"Can you still walk, fire a weapon? Invoke methods?"
+
+"Yes," I answered reluctantly.
+
+"We will go, and we will win. If we don't…"
+
+"I understand."
+
+[insert things about fighting, then finally crashing back into The Place]
+
+"It always comes back to this place."
+
+"Doesn't it?"
+
+"We need to use it, David."
+
+"I have, through seeing all possibilities, failed to find any other
+solution."
+
+"This sucks."
+
+I got up out of the rubble, wiped the dust off my coat, and walked toward the
+kitchen. The cabinets were still pristine, unlike the rest of the house, now
+destroyed by us crashing directly into it.
+
+The third cabinet from the right side of the room, on the bottom shelf, lay a
+small cake, not but the size of a miniature candle, round in shape and with
+four candles smaller than a nail burning strong. The cake made of chocolate,
+and the icing on the outside like a shell, vanilla.
+
+"Are you ready? Look into my eyes." I said, taking the cake and shoving it into
+my mouth, whole.
+
+I chewed the cake, which must not have taken even five seconds, and swallowed
+it.
+
+"O divine cake of reason, forgive us but one treason; destroy this world, in
+place another, the time to go, for last summer."
+
+"The final sin laid out tonight, remove of us the fatal plight;"
+
+"Conteret omnia haec, respice in hac mundi."
+
+As the roof went crashing down, everything became a blur.
+
+The ritual was complete.
+
+\[insert sections]
+
+- reuniting
+- planning
+- moving
+- insertion
+- destruction
+- forgiveness
+- procedure
+- finish
diff --git a/notepad/there.mdwn b/notepad/there.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..713a650
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/there.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+[[!meta title="There"]]
+
+"There there there there there there there," there it appeared, seven times,
+the word "there." It wasn't pointing to anything, there was clearly nothing in
+the room worth nothing besides this wall mysteriously written upon. Like a
+logical person, I used this opportunity to introduce said wall to the power of
+40 millimeter explosives – though to my surprise, the wall was actually a
+façade.
+
+"Oi, konnanoka?" I shouted, wondering what language this story was being
+written in. It was probably whatever the writer's stream of consciousness
+pushed out, but I wasn't convinced that using foreign languages in dialogue was
+a good idea. Digressions aside, Jane quickly responded through proper
+communications (and language,) "Yes, that's the entrance. How did you find it?"
+
+"There were a bunch of 'there's," I answered. She looked at me a bit funny and
+scratched her eye, before walking into the blaringly red cave entrance, without
+saying a word.
diff --git a/notepad/therest.mdwn b/notepad/therest.mdwn
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3211603
--- /dev/null
+++ b/notepad/therest.mdwn
@@ -0,0 +1,124 @@
+[[!meta title="where's the rest"]]
+
+Time is not flowing, but thrashing; our waking minds do not notice the
+inconsistency as they have always lived within it
+
+However, the unconscious mind can see far more than the awake...
+
+And thus begins our story: Hacker
+
+In a humble country ruled by three parties democratically: Anvil, Labour and
+independent parties owned by corporations, often backing capitalism
+
+Our story begins in a bank, owned by a capitalist party Ban'qi
+
+"Yeah. Yeah. I've got it. I know." The man talks on a phone, rather archaic
+looking in style. He stands tall clad in beige business garb, tuxedo and all.
+Yet the smell of sweat emenates from him. In his other hand is a small blue
+satchel.
+
+"Yeah, I've got it. I'll keep the weapon--" he stops. On the outside of the
+phone booth within the bank, a guard is looking straight at him. He stutters.
+"Hah, hahah, yeah I'll keep our secret weapon down until we're ready for that
+big stock! I've gotta go. Yeah. Bye." The phone clacks as he places it back on
+the receiver, but the guard still stands tall staring at him.
+
+Without a word, the guard forces the man's hand up to his chest and clicks a
+tracker to it, and quickly hands it back to the man. He nervously chuckles and
+rushes past the guard, but not soon after the tracker beeps to life and scans
+the item.
+
+"Shit." The guard sees quite literally right through him. "Fuck it." The man
+swiftly rips the satchel's zippers open and pulls out the fully loaded pistol
+from it. The lone guard is the first victim of this operation, and as he's shot
+down, vital scanners activate the silent alarm.
+
+The man does not hesitate. He's pulled the trigger on the gun and the op. He's
+going to deal with it. He picks up the satchel and grabs the two extra
+magazines and knife out of it and brings out his pager. "Op is on."
+
+
+As soon as the pager beeps out the communication, in through the door bursts
+another man clad in blue business attire. He's thin, but in his hands are two
+guns. "Are you serious?" he asks rhetorically, wondering if he should have even
+brought along this idiot. No reply. The two go straight for the elevator.
+
+"Dan, we can't deal with starting too early," says the man in blue. "I fucking
+know.  I did something dumb and I'll pay for it. But right now all we need to
+worry about is getting the fucking expplosives in place on the 73rd."
+
+"Whatever." He presses the button for the 50th floor. "We'll go up to 50 first.
+The elevator breakers will be offed by then. After that we'll have to walk."
+
+"...And Dan," he continues, "fuck you."
+
+The bad blood between them started many months ago, during their first
+operation. As rebels against the ruling capitalist party, they worked in secret
+to destroy vital components of their political framework. Often through more
+subtle sway than terrorism, of course. Dan did not agree with these acts of
+peaceful rebellion, but in their first outing, nearly got both of them killed.
+
+The two stand silent in the elevator as it hums along to the 50th floor. When
+planning, they had revealed that after the silent alarm is activated, it would
+stop after approximately 70 seocnds. This was enough time, he pondered, to make
+it up about 50 floors, a safe estimate.
+
+The elevator dings as it arrives at the 50th floor. This one was rather arhcaic
+and did not have any kind of announcement besides a ding, nor a elevator
+operator. The man in blue and man in beige make their way out and quickly get
+into trouble. Their guns  burst like deadly firecrackers going off on a
+holiday. Of the dozen or so guards in their path, none of them even manage to
+raise their gun before being shot down by the deadly duo.
+
+As is in the plan, they make their way to a private service elevator, one that
+wouldn't be shut down so easily. In it is a woman, clad in beautiful middle
+eastern garments. The man in beige barely notices, but the man in blue stares
+for a moment. Thinking of the damage this could do to the civilians who get
+caught up in the crossfire. Thinking of the reprecussions of their actions.
+
+"Get the fuck in!" Dan shouts. His patience for these moments of reflection is
+nil. The man in blue quickly steps in the elevator as Dan reaches for the
+buttons. Just as he does, thouhg, in bursts two -- no, three, four men. They'd
+been followed the whole time by spec ops. In full black kevlar suits and
+balaclavas these four stood, machine pistols at the ready. They were ready to
+shoot regardless of the woman.
+
+The man in blue had enough. He could see in their eyes that they were going to
+open fire at a moment's notice, fingers on their triggers. Blue had had enough.
+His arm extended to the frame of the door and pulled it shut faster than the
+spec ops had time to react, and pulled it completely shut with inhuman
+strength.
+
+"72nd," As he barked the command, Dan pressed the button straight away.
+
+"What the fuck?" Dan asked, but to no reply. Their trip up was rather silent.
+The elevator moved quicker than feet could, and there was no other available
+due to the circumstances.  As they reached the 72nd floor, Blue took a block of
+plastic explosives out of his jacket. The woman, scared and panicked but
+silent, stayed there without a word. The two got off and continued their
+violent rampage down the hallways of the giant building. They'd reached their
+final destination, an unmarked room with an unusual black door.  Blue sets the
+explosives and they back away from the door.
+
+A medium sized boom crackles through the air, and the two walked right through
+the now-combusted doorway. Inside was a single server rack connected through
+the walls by dozens of cables. On the other side is a singular monitor, with
+nothing on display. Blue handed the rest of the explosives to Dan, as he
+walked over to the monitor and Dan walked over to the server. He turned on the
+monitor and after a few loading screens a login prompt appears. He exploits a
+security flaw in the printing dialogue for the help menu to log in as the
+administrator. As he looks through the files on the server, he notices a
+folder of alphabetized workers for the Ban'qi internal organization.
+
+And on that list of folders appears "Daniel Blackside." Dan finishes setting up
+the timer and wiring for the explosive and turns to see what Blue is seeing.
+
+His automatic response is to pull his gun and aim it to Blue's head.
+
+"I had a feeling...." remarks Blue. "I told you not to fuck around on this op,"
+says Dan, bringing his gun up to Blue's temple and grabbing him by the neck
+from behind. "You'll be my shield now. They want you."
+
+Blue doesn't react, except to stand up from the chair and put his hands up to
+the air. Dan moves to the window, and jumps out of it with Blue in hold. The
+explosives detonate as they fall through the air.