[[!meta title="Material"]] Material is a short story from several perspectives showing the oddities caused by [[dims/heaven]] (and thus causality) being destroyed in the [[Deceiver Universe|dims/deceiver]]'s bad timeline. The story is unfinished and probably won't be finished, any time soon at least. # Contents

Material

12:40 20/01/3101 NE // UNKNOWN
Over the last year I've found little reason to be on Earth with all the war going on at the moment. I'll be sitting here drinking my cappuccino, bitches! I sent the BBS post to the travel board, surely someone'd laugh. Anyways, I said to my friend, I'll be star-side. Give me a few minutes in there and we'll be moving again. What the fuck even went wrong? We fueled up to a 120 lightyear trip and it's failing at only 20. This is worse than when we had to refuel every 5 a few hundred years back, at least then we'd know when we'd have to spend all our money. Her annoyance filled the room with a stifling atmosphere, and then I knew it was fate that I'm getting the hell out now. Well, I said as I jumped down to the base chamber, laden in all kinds of colors, maybe we were shammed when we bought this ship. No good, she says, no good at all. I didn't agree with the sentiment. The retro-deco design of the ship was definitely my style.
12:42 27/01/3101 NE // MARS ORBIT
We reached the abandoned ship, a mere thousand something kilometers out of high orbit. A few hundred years pass and there should only be a bit of rust on these things, but the ship was in worse disrepair than I've ever seen. The four of us trunked into the ship and checked out the interior. A few hours pass and we didn't see anything. The report was dull, but an object that big just coming out of hyperspeed – which it apparently entered for no reason – just isn't right. I guess I just don't have time to dwell over these things anymore. Excessive time waste summed up the trip. I did like the parts of design on the she ship I could see, though. Retro-deco is definitely my style.
10:15 28/01/3101 NE // MARS
Four men in space suits walked into the café. Kind of a strange sight to see, but I'd heard of these garbage hunters before. Seems like an excessive time waste to me, you can't get money from selling space trash. … Maybe you can, who knows. My friend was singing at me but I wasn't paying attention. The four guys, in unison, sat down at a table. It was pretty funny. They didn't all ask for the same drink, though, and I was disappointed. I looked at the seat next to me and waited for my friend to arrive.