Spoiler
I recently discovered a latent hatred for my characters, which is why chapter one was first person from Dem's perspective, chapter two was limited omniscient from Zar's perspective and it is once again first person, only with an entirely different character who wasn't even introduced previously. His not occurring previously is mainly a result of not starting out with a plan and going from there.
Being me has its disadvantages. I never get time to think, for one thing. Actually, on occasion, I do get time to think, but it's often a really inopportune time, so I don't really get time to think, I just think I do.
I've learned to think on my feet a lot, over time, and I've still not quite mastered the concept. Last Wednesday, for example, I was in a huge fight with my ex-girlfriend. She was never really my girlfriend, technically, since we didn't have enough time together to actually form a relationship past a vague fond look.
Then she turned into a hideous monster.
Well, let me back up a little.
My name's Weaver. I don't know your name, but I think that's alright because I'm never going to see you anyway. I would put more effort into this sort of thing if I thought you were actually going to see me, but I think I should give you a name of some sort. I think Alfred.
Hello, Alfred, it's nice to meet you. I periodically disappear from one place and appear somewhere else. Sometimes I manage to finish what I start in the new place, but most times I find myself disappearing again.
I wouldn't call it "fun," but I try to remain cheerful. I don't have any money anymore and none of the places I go have the same monetary system anyway. Some places I don't even see any people around.
So anyway, I went to a city at some point and met this nice girl in a coffee shop while I was mopping the floor for a latte. Her name was unpronounceable, but she had nice camouflage-colored eyes and I thought maybe I could get another coffee out of cleaning tables. I used to be pretty shy around girls, but I'd discovered that never seeing anyone again has a few perks, like forcing you to interact with whoever else you see next.
It also probably makes me a little obnoxious, but who cares; you'll never see me again anyway.
Anyway, I asked her if i could get her a coffee and she smiled at me. She was about to say something when she yelped and clutched her head. She made a few pained noises, then leapt at me and tried to bite my head off.
Things like that happen a lot, actually, so I remained completely calm as I screamed like a little girl and tried to run away, only to be dragged back and have her sink her teeth into my flesh. It hurt quite a lot, and I told her as much as I tried to shake her off. She adamantly refused to let go of my arm, however, and, indeed, appeared to be exsanguinating me.
I decided at that point that things had gotten out of hand. I'd like to say I have combat skills. I'd also like to say I whipped them out at that moment and managed to kill the girl and free myself of her horrible teeth. Unfortunately, I'm a wuss, so I kinda shriveled up and fell to the floor.
This proved to be a very good defense mechanism, actually, as she assumed I was dead and moved on to kill the barista. I'm not entirely sure I wasn't dead at that point, but I did manage to haul my corpse to the door and slither out onto the sidewalk, so I guess that counts for some spark of life.
When I got to the edge of the sidewalk, I became aware that someone was watching me. I stopped slithering and turned on my side to look up.
He was a very mild character, really, and I fancied he could almost be friendly. He was smartly-dressed in a business suit and tie, which made him look like a businessman; he wore sunglasses and carried a clipboard, which made him look like a secret agent; and he looked exactly like my father, which was really freaky.
"Hello, son." He said in a conversational tone, "I suppose you're wondering why I almost killed you."
I was about to answer that in reality I wondered how the heck he got there, but he rambled on, "Well, I'm not going to tell you. I don't want to kill you, actually, since you're my son and all, but I know that if I let you live you'll try to stop me. Now I really don't want that happening, so I'm going to have to get rid of you somehow. Jarvis!"
Someone shuffled up behind me. A whispery, gravel-toned voice spoke, "Yes, Mr. Stian?"
"Take this youth and have him frozen. Make sure it's the bronze chamber; it's nuclear-powered and likely will stay frozen for several years."
I was slung over a shoulder and trotted off to the freezer. When I got there I was hooked up to several machines, which I assume anesthetized me, since my vision went black for a second and the next thing I knew I was in a capsule, strapped down. Things got pretty cold after that and I found myself wishing desperately that I would just disappear.
However, as with most instances of this sort of thing, it didn't happen. Just as I thought it was getting unbearably cold, It began warming up.
Then I felt like a bubble popped and heard something like a foghorn and everything went black.
Time passed, I'm sure. I'm not sure how much time, but when I was able to see again I realized that it had been enough time for me to arrive in a library. It was dark, dimly lit by a flickering fluorescent tube, but I could see enough to know that the floor had not originally sported a gaping hole surrounded by rubble.
At the time, I couldn't move, so I waited patiently to thaw out. This probably would've taken awhile if not for the screaming librarian who happened to find me. She actually didn't find me for awhile and probably would not have if not for the fact that I managed to lift my arm and tap her on the back as she was hyperventilating and walking around the hole. I was rushed to a hospital and given several warm baths until I was deemed fit for walking. I didn't feel quite right for awhile, and they didn't really want me to do too much on account of not having very much blood at the start.
I was going to stay for about a week, or longer, as the doctors suggested, but as things turned out I was feeling much better after the first day.
This was actually quite fortunate because the city started flooding the second day.
Shortly after I left the library, the pit in the floor started gushing water. They tried to stop it, but a lot of things began flooding besides that pit. The water had started moving up the land from the shores, pretty soon consuming the docks and coastal residences. The city, which was called Juniper, was located a little below sea level, so it became very difficult to staunch the flow of the sea.
Evacuation protocols were enacted and all the hospital patients were loaded onto ships. I wasn't; mainly because I was outside, walking in the warm summer day.
It was nice out, and the screams and sundry sounds of panic only added familiarity to the ambiance. I decided to find a nice spot and take a nap.
I dreamt of the man who seemed to be my father. He'd been very casual in his disregard for whatever had been going on in the coffee shop, which led me to believe he'd somehow instigated the whole thing. I wasn't sure how this would've been possible, but considering I knew nothing about any of it anyhow, I figured anything could've been possible.
I also dreamt of spaghetti squash. I had just baked it and I was ladling it into a strange carpeted table, then I went back to the oven and discovered that someone was already in the oven, floating in water. She wasn't actually in the oven, she was in a glass box, but it had replaced the oven. She appeared to be dead, but when I tapped on the glass her eyes flew open and she stared at me with a mildly perplexed expression.
Then the glass broke and water poured into the room, washing me into a gentle, if a tad abrupt, awakening. I picked glass out of my face for the next ten minutes, cursing my realistic dreams, and surveyed the changes that had been wrought to the environment.
The wreckage was actually quite extensive, and the water was covering several buildings. People in boats were paddling like fiends with whatever was handy, other people were trying to find flotation methods aside from boats, and still others were merely staring dumbly at the catastrophic sight.
The ground lurched and a tall building shifted, tottering on its foundation awhile before slowly collapsing. Panic and pandemonium still stalked the streets, and I could see people stealing food and clothes from stores. Small fires had broken out and no one was doing anything about them. Dead bodies lay forgotten in yards and alleyways, the only things at peace in the situation.
I was getting bored. I mean, dead bodies still turn my stomach, but they aren't at all fascinating to me unless they get up and roam around. Since this didn't appear to be happening, I decided to go see if any of the living needed help.
There were three kids wandering the streets, so I asked them if they knew where their parents were. They informed me that their parents had drowned in the basement of their house. I quickly assessed the situation and decided I had no idea what to do. The kids started following me around, though, even after I informed them of my inexperience on the subject of childcare in general.
"We're not picky." Said one of the boys. the other one nodded and the girl said something irrelevant, like how we should look for a boat.
We found nothing seaworthy in town, so we started asking if anyone would take us. Most people didn't have room in their boats and others wisely ascertained that our auras were disruptive and we'd sink the boat.
We decided the best thing to do at that point was wander about aimlessly as the water rose. It was quite fun, actually, since we were near a park and there was an abandoned playground in the middle of it. Unfortunately, everyone wanted to swing and I got caught pushing them all.
At some point, my arms were too tired to continue, so we stopped. I said something along the lines of, "Hey, kid, how about you push your brother for awhile."
"My name is Richard." the kid said, hopping off the swing, "And this is Perkins."
"I was going to say my name!" protested Perkins.
"My name's Olivia." said the girl.
"I'm not going to remember your names." I informed them.
"What's your name?" asked Olivia.
"I don't have a name."
"Yes you do!"
"I never get to use it, though, so I forgot."
"No you didn't! Just tell us."
"I actually did forget it."
Olivia pouted and went to play in the puddle that was forming near some dead trees.
Something exploded off in the distance.
Forgetting my name wasn't as distressing as one might think; I am a practiced forgetter and have forgotten everything from nuclear launch codes to the name of Prince Ungra's second niece's dog (Not the big one; his name is Bruteus; the small one isn't nearly as memorable because he didn't try to take my arm off).
I generally remember stuff when I really need it, but sometimes stuff is just lost forever.
I should have read the chapters before this, I guess, but I wanted to see what this was like, so... 
