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I may not have time this weekend due to travelling for Chinese New Year and other stuff but I wrote 3 things for Prompt One I'll see whether I can do stuff for the others. All 3 are 250 words: The Food Truck At the Corner of The Street Where I Live that Everybody Says is Overrated But Eats at Anyway A million times! A million times I’ve told you I’m not going to Halal Fam! I care not that their lamb kofta are to die for, I literally died the last time! I only escaped Alam-e-Arf because grandpa found the meat stuck in my teeth funny, and lent me his goat to cross the hair-length bridge back to the human realm! “That just happens to everyone haha it’s just how good their food is,” No! Remember Dayang? Her veal and hummus shwarma was too hot so she blew in it, accidentally summoning a djinn fuckboy who looked like her ex she never got over who dumped her for a white girl? The fuckboy who sang he would show her the world, shining, shimmering, splendid? Which she fell completely for despite growing up dancing to that song? And then he sang Maroon 5 to her? And now they’re gone from everyone’s memories except mine, because I became her ex that day? You do not recall Dayang! Ya Allah! You ask me to support local businesses but which local business has men with eyes of ifrit and tongues of nagas who turn on their grills by reciting the sūrat l-wāqiʿah? How they consider the fire they kindle! I refuse to eat at Halal Fam. Not even a roti! Not even their mint tea! Not even for their new waitress! Wait. No, scroll back. Give me your phone. That’s her. Dayang’s in their Instagram stories. Yes, Dayang exists! OK, I’m going. Stop celebrating. ---------- You are Not Benevolent First there is no mountain. Then there is. You pack your gloves your boots your stick, and you hike, alone. You wave at people descending and they wave back, one beat slower. You hike allow light rainwater to flow down your face, moisturizing your lips. You step on grass and fern and sticks and mud and fruit bursting into splashes of red and black on your soles. The dark ventures through the curtains of daylight. The stars in the long black shimmer and fade off one by one. The moon is waning. You turn on the flashlight on your headband, pale yellow piercing through the fog. Someone is walking towards you. You wave. They do not wave back. They smile and walk towards you. You throw your stick at them. They keep smiling. You keep hiking. You close your eyes and the fog mists your glasses. There is nobody. You ascend. Black volcanic rocks crush under your soles. Heat burns through them and you discard rotten boots. You grab onto cedar trees, their twigs tearing through your gloves. Your glove holes grow bigger as you scrape past cacti, past succulents. The peak pierces through the full moon. There is no cave. The cave beckons. You take off your gloves. You take off your glasses. You take off everything. You enter the cave surrounded by glow worms. There is an ocean. The ocean in it shimmers under their glow. You sink into the water. You descend. There is no ocean. ---------- gently caress Goddamn poo poo I Hate Haunted Highways So Much Yeah loving ma cao hai absolutely some garbage, this Ying Yang Road again, always traveling over to nearest highway when I have late shift and then cannot close shop until last customer hangs around for everyone to leave then buy one condom, like never had sex meh? Sien dou sei lah! Drive out and wah all foggy, drat super silent hill, even though it’s tropical country! YY Road just because you’re ethereal and not comprehensible by human wisdom, also dunno what equator is ah? Not everywhere got winter autumn! Learn geography lah! And then a Sadako hang around at the roadside, wooh wooh I am pretty Japanese lady I want a ride please wooh… ohhh I am going to… my grave! Wah! So unique perspective go download car-hailing app lah, so hai!. Or suddenly your car breaks down and then some nice uncle in a Mercedes says he’ll drive you. Once you’re in uncle will go, “My terrible family didn’t even burn chauffer for me,” oh no uncle died last week and yesterday family burnt paper car offering for him at funeral! Worst one, you drive out of the fog, wah! Can survive eh! But you look at your phone. How come miss one whole hour only 3km mah, and then you look at rear mirror, how come hair so white, eye bags so dark? Stupid YY Road lost me time and then make me age extra years leh! gently caress lah! Better sleep in backroom, waste my time only okay!
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Feb 3, 2024 06:41
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Saying in so I actually post the thing I already wrote (but not tonight).
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Feb 3, 2024 06:55
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Feb 3, 2024 08:15
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In. Prior Experience Not Required 111 words Prompt 3 / Gooseberry Pie / Exactly six sentences I, Sophie Twitcom™, hereby consent to be the subject of the ValveUs Dermabrasion Alpha v6.2 this tenth of January 2034. I release ValveUs LLC from any and all claims, demands, and causes of action arising from this procedure, including but not limited to intentional or negligent infliction of emotional distress, defamation, and invasion of privacy. I acknowledge that I am being compensated for my time, and that I will receive payment in instalments. I understand this surgery is being performed for entertainment purposes only. I waive my right to be informed of possible side effects. I grant ValveUs permission to reproduce and distribute my image, likeness, and performance without limitations.
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Feb 4, 2024 02:39
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In and  for my crimes in a past life
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Feb 4, 2024 04:36
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[Prompt 1: Apex Magazine] Waylaid by The Quarrell (243 words) The Quarrell picked an awful chance to taunt us. Here I stand, with family, at my grandmother’s burial. She and I were never close; I was a shitbag. So I’m making up for it by actually listening to the chaplain talk about her. I ignore the burbling crick. I tune out the cemetery groundskeeper, who's far enough away, she must think we can’t hear her whistling. I just concentrate on all the dandy-waxing about “ashes to ashes.” And The Quarrell appears. Out of the heavens lurches a gargantuan, disembodied hand. Its thumb digs into its middle finger. Between these sky-dangled digits, hang nine silver beads, uniform in scale to the hand. The hand bobs in mid-air, rustling the nine beads together. Their clank is thunderous. Their twinkling glint, too bold to avoid. Now the taunt has begun. The chaplain falls silent. I try to glance at my grandmother, but The Quarrell wrests my gaze toward the jerking beads. I miss the casket reaching its nadir, and a wave of bad-grandson guilt washes over me. I use it. With great effort, I ply my vision back to the casket. Beside it, all my mourning family stands agape: sentinels for the sky. But another hand appears, its shape and hue deviant from the first. Oh what a choice ill-omen. I hate when there are two! My grandmother sinks to afterthought—I am bereft of attention to pay her. My absolution is forfeit.
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Feb 4, 2024 17:21
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Feb 4, 2024 23:02
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Prompt 1 - Apex BUSTED: Dispelling Five Myths About Integration Ta feh! You have made the kindly decision to integrate with Abode Cedar. The purpose of this document is to dispel common misconceptions about the immigration process. 1) Abode Cedar is a hivemind FALSE. Abode Cedar is a distributed biocomputing network. Your thoughts and memories are not available for public access*. 2) Citizens are liable for crimes committed against the Abodes prior to integration FALSE. All newly-integrated citizens are granted complete amnesty**. 3) Citizens are forbade from venerating the Holy Sianad FALSE. Anasiani is the second most common form of veneration; most venerative scholars agree that Centralism and Anasiani are not mutually exclusive. 4) Citizens are restricted from contacting aberrant family members over the tangle FALSE. Citizens enjoy unrestricted tangle access***. 5) Unsuitable bodies are forcibly placed in nodes FALSE. Nodes provide disabled citizens an opportunity to contribute computing capacity to the Abodes. Nodal integration is never compulsory****. *Central may review your intellectual materia when there is a reasonable cause **Certain crimes of extreme moral turpitude (e.g. the forceful removal of a citizen’s implant) are not eligible for amnesty ***Central may interrogate tangle access when there is a reasonable cause ****Certain conditions preclude full ambulatory integration; if nodal integration is rejected, the application may be denied.
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Feb 4, 2024 23:37
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Residency VISA application form for Cuono 3 and Affiliated Systems Length of stay: indefinite Number of applicants: N/A ___ Applicants must attain a rating of 11–15, divided among the following categories with no less than three points in each: * complaisance * neurophilitic aptitude * income Complaisance Rate yourself from 1–5. 1: I am a person. 2: I am obedient. 3: I am indifferent. 4: I am eager. 5: Yes. Neurophilitic Aptitude Rate yourself from 1–5. 1. I do not dream. 2. I do not remember my dreams. 3. I remember my dreams. 4. I remember others’ dreams. 5. I possess control. Income Rate yourself from 1–5. 1. <2000 words/day. 2. 2001–4000 words/day 3. 4001–10,000 words/day 4. 10,001–150,000 words/day 5. I speak in imago. ___ Workers in the following fields may apply for a special exemption allowing them entry with a rating of 7–10, so long as they are willing to pass a unity test. * Visionary Specialist * Communications Coordinator * Somnial Analytics * Neural Boundary Restructure and Acquisition ___ Unity Test: please answer the following questions Are you? 1) No 2) No 3) I am amenable. How many have you eaten? 1) <100,000 2) an acceptable quantity 3) all of them How would you rate your emergence? 1) Tongues 2) Lips 3) Teeth 4) I am Are you really? 1) Yes 2) No We know. 1) Of course 2) I understand 3) Help
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Feb 5, 2024 00:00
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How is what you are doing right now better than what you were doing before? Six sentences Picture a tennis ball, one of the cheap ones with the rubber seam you can run your thumb over. The ball’s green fur is worn and slicked with mud, and there’s a slit in the side where the rubber broke, long ago. You want to kick it but instead you must quickly put into it everyone who has ever wronged, upset, disgruntled, or injured you; they will be tiny and struggling as you jam them in there, use your thumb. As you hold it, you will feel a thrumming like your tennis ball is full of fat angry wasps. Ignore it and hurl the ball away, over the high fences that surround you, far off into the distance, an admirable throw; you did well! Now stand where you are, equidistant between the four fences, feet comfortable on the close-packed earth.
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Feb 5, 2024 00:36
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Long Weekend Apex Magazine / Strange Locations 150 words Duuuude, you’re gonna love it here. The Festival of Summer is my FAVE. I’m not a huge procession guy, but the flag-sparkled avenues, the boats in the sparkling bay, all those moss-grown gardens and joyous clanging clamour-bells. poo poo’s tops. I figure we grab brunch at one of those bougie spots, bright-towered by the sea. Maybe rent a jet ski? There’s a gig in the Green Fields later and food trucks and stuff. They’re cash only fyi. If you don’t know your way around, I’m down to do the walking tour. What’s that? When can you see the kid? Uhhh, I guess I can check. Nah, I haven’t gone yet. I keep meaning to get around to it. Okay, so. Even if we lined up early for the kid, we’d probably miss the races. What’s so great about the kid anyway? gently caress that kid, man, you don’t want to miss the horses, do you?
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Feb 5, 2024 00:50
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prompt 3 Proof This beach inhabits the root-bound clutches of Yggdrasil. Death squishes up between our toes as we traverse the humps of rotting kelp, mounds of fallen sea-bodies reanimated by the TV static of sand fleas. You’re precontemplative in your sobriety, but for now we drink from a naked sack of wine and smoke sodden cigarettes, careless of the gods who hurl shards of rain in our eyes. When the time comes to cook sausages, I eye the weather and say it can’t be done. Laughing, you ignite yourself at both ends and we eat and eat until the ethanol in your blood has burned away.
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Feb 5, 2024 01:01
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I’m not really a tourist I’m more of a traveller apex 174 words In the far-off jungles of New Zealand, somehow, there is an entire Aztec temple complex, buried half into the verdant ferns and vines of the forest! Inconguously bright native parrots and macaws call from the weathered cornices and abutments, echoing in the mossy silence. Most mysterious! You should press further in, protective helmet on head and torch in hand! Your questing light falls on wonders all around, glinting jewels, platonic solids and liquids, even a perfectly complete miniature civilization, kept in a glass ormolu dome. A protest march is wending its way from one place to other, impressive commitment to realism. Peer closer at the tiny world, nose pressed against the cool ancient glass. Marvel at the wrongs of the world made infinitely clear and jewel-bright through glowing glass. One day the long-lost Aztecs who built this palace, or temple, or tomb, will return and demand accounting for our use of their long legacy, but until they do their riches remain ours to delight in.
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Feb 5, 2024 01:15
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All tires bring farmers all farmers bring dogs 210 words Prompt 3 / 6 sentences My heart is dumb as a new lamb and when it bleats for mother or bleats for answers it expects no consolation it only wishes to say it is alone alone alone and to hang its cries on the heavy night like washing on the line sodden and doomed to beckon rain. My heart is dumb as a new lamb for when sun crisps the mist and toasts the still-hanging sheets all traces of my tears will dry along with them and my knock-kneed lamb heart will spring to life and the air will tousle in its tiny lungs as it leaps and plays unwilling or unable to recall the shape of the night's fear. My heart is dumb as a new lamb cud-chewing grass-touching soft lamb light lamb combed by gorse chased by dogs bumping up against barbed wire when it thought the hills rolled endless. My heart is dumb as a new lamb startled lamb leaping lamb pick the prickles from its curls scratch its little lamb ears nuzzle wool eyelash flutter breathe deep careful now startled lamb shiver lamb surging to the flock at the slightest gravel crunch all tires bring farmers all farmers bring dogs. Please take care. Please take care of my dumb lamb heart.
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Feb 5, 2024 01:26
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Prompt one 250 words Welcome to Foxton, home of the De Molen windmill, and, you. Pop the lock. Climb the near-vertical stairs. Close your eyes past the window. Your uncle’s house is out there. After all these years, your panic reflex is still on a hair trigger. The millstones are white with flour. All that Dutch engineering, just for bread. But then, it’s not like anyone born here could build a thing like this. Least of all you. Mr Whitelies your PE teacher once said you had a talent for hockey. Open the door to the balcony. The wind lifts your fringe from your damp forehead and the windmill sails rattle against their chains. Below your feet the solitary streetlight goes out, so you miss your chance to take one last look at Foxton’s main drag. Good. Release the sails and jump back out of harms way. You’re getting out, remember. Run to the wheel on the opposite site. Loose it, give it a spin. The De Molen shakes like a wet dog then lurches to one side, then the other. Its legs rip free of Foxton’s fertile loam and it rattles to its feet. You drag on the steering wheel, but the De Molen already knows. Turn, point south, across the floodplains. Would you sacrifice this town to save Palmerston North from drowning? The sails spin faster and faster and the windmill gathers speed. Your grip the wheel, brace your feet wide. It’s only a hundred kilometres to Wellington. Maybe this time you’ll make it out.
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Feb 5, 2024 02:15
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False Fungus Friendship 102 words Prompt 3 / Gooseberry Pie / Exactly six sentences “Okay, it’s mushroom time.” Josie checks the buckle on her harness, flips her braid over one broad shoulder, and bounces off the balls of her feet onto the tree. The cluster of mushrooms is high enough to make a fall dangerous, but not so high she can’t reach it with some effort. A quick flip of the pocket knife, a short drive home, and one hot oiled pan later it’s on her plate and her fork and then into her mouth. Her lips wrinkle up to match the mushroom. “So that’s what Gus meant by a ‘unique’ flavour profile, just like me…”
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Feb 5, 2024 02:20
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July 6th, 9:12 PM 220 words Flash Frontiers / QUIET | MARINE The paint's flaking off the newest sign in front of the gravel pit. It was supposed to be Chokecherry Lake this time, after Riverview Shores and Chickadee Pond, those signs collapsed and moldering in the underbrush. A few abandoned frames of Chokecherry Lake houses stand by the shore, waiting to be claimed by grass and horsetails. When does a boomtown become a ghost town? The gravel pit, defiantly nameless, is the same as it ever was. You pick your way down the beach, stepping around the remains of fireworks, wondering if whoever set them off stayed up to wait for the brief sliver of night or fired them futilely against the midnight sun. The lingering gunpowder smell mixes with the scent of freshwater weeds and the faint scent of rot. Something has died here; something surely dies here every day. You don't think about the depths of the gravel pit. You've always favored the shallows, the edge of the water glistening with shards of mica worn smooth. You wade in to your knees, trying not to think of the summer that will be dead by mid-August, or of the next school year, or of the hotels sprouting along the banks of the merciless river just down the road. You've never needed the river. You have the gravel pit's chill embrace.
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Feb 5, 2024 03:44
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flash frontier - quiet 250 Love Gone Wrong On the whole me and her get along fine in spite of things. She were a troubled woman and I guess I’m a troubled man, especially now that’s she dead on the kitchen floor. Funny how I’m not mad no more just looking at her among the butts and crap of the cracked linoleum she never cleaned. Can’t even remember what it was about this time. I stumble off to the fridge to get a beer and there’s none and I remembered that’s why. Maybe she’s just passed out drunk. Shouldn’t have hit her so hard, not like the bitch couldn’t take it cause if I knew her daddy right she’d been taking it awhile. I try picking her up and fall down drunk besides her and she gives off a groan. Still alive, well aint that something. Yes, Jesus, I love you too. Let’s get you to bed my sweet. I get her in bed and she’s awake and not saying a lot, the old silent treatment. I go to the dresser to get undressed and I can hear her rustling around doing the same if she knew what’s good. I turn to get in and see she’s pointing my old .45 at me looking mad as hell and before I could say a thing she shoots me and now I’m looking at the stains on the ceiling. I try calling for help but nothing comes out but blood as she runs past and I hear the door close.
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Feb 5, 2024 03:52
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The Thicket (Prompt one) 250 words Down by the riverbed there was a copse of trees we always avoid, even if it means wading into the treacherous quicksand. We had delved inside it, once, juvenile brains full of imagination and wonder. The trees were dark and strange, roots rising out of the ground to meet gnarled branches coming down to scrape it. We climbed through the twisted branches, eyes out for trampled grass and broken sticks, the telltale sign of wild pigs, fortunately absent, but also absent were any signs of animal life at all. No fluttering of startled birds, or skittering insects. A few scrapes and scratches later we reached the middle, a clearing two dozen yards across, dominated by a lone tree, grotesque as the others but larger, winding branches reaching halfway to the edge of the clearing. It drew us near, irresistibly, a large knot in the trunk seeming to shift, forming faces filled with anger and fear. A voice, no, a wordless thought formed in my head. All wrath and fury, screaming death on anything that moved. I called out to my friend, but he was transfixed, slowly moving closer to the tree. I ran, cutting and scraping myself on the roots and branches of the thicket, till I was back out in the bare hills where sheep stupidly caught their heads in barbwire traps. I never saw my friend again, but when I skirted the edges of that copse, I noticed a new, twisted sapling, rising up from the stony soil.
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Feb 5, 2024 03:54
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A Walk Down Emberley Road 216 words Apex Magazine / Strange Locations Remember this: wherever Emberley Road takes you, it will never take you home. The buildings you pass may look familiar, in the darkness and the distance. Emberley Road is lined with houses, yours and those of old friends, and an apartment building or two: your parents', say, where you spent your first year. There's the odd commercial storefront, the after-school retail jobs you fled to after miserable days at school. Enter none of them. If your resolve falters, and you go in, there will be no ghosts who care to announce themselves to you. All you will find is other people's things in unfamiliar arrangements. Everything will smell wrong: like strangers' sweat, like foot powder, like nothing. All familiar-looking objects will deceive. Your favorite books bear other people's bookplates. The coffee mug in the sink, so much like your father's, has been chipped by some clumsy hand, and the residue inside is candy-red and sticky. At the end of Emberley Road is a cul-de-sac, every lot empty save for one. In that lot, the place where you felt safest is waiting for you, and it is empty. The floors are polished and clean, the walls bare. Nobody has ever stepped inside, least of all you. Stare through the windows, if you like, and then turn back.
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Feb 5, 2024 03:59
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Memories of a Birthday Party Prompt 1 WC: 246 You walk down a strange hallway until you come to a large room. The walls are painted with white picket fences and bright sunny meadows. The room appears to be full of children's toys, including a small ball pit. There is no one else in the room, child or otherwise. A flash of memory suddenly hits you. You entered this room before waiting for something to begin. Was it a doctor's appointment? No, it couldn't be. It had to be a birthday party. Another memory takes form in your mind and the scene switches. Now you're standing at the foot of five indoor playground slides, their colourful plastic exteriors gleaming in the bright light. You hear a strange melody come from somewhere. It's a somewhat soothing tune coming from somewhere up high. A strange purpose fills you. You need to get up to the top of the slide and find the source of the music. As you climb up the brightly colored padded stairs, the smell of birthday cake and candles hit your nose. You've definitely been here before. But why are you in this place now as an adult? Another scent fills the room, the aroma of cheap, oily pizza. Then it clicks. It must be someone's birthday! You make your way to the top and have a look around. No one is here except you, an aging being in a place that never ages. For this place closed down years ago, never to return.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:08
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Scene From A Fast-Casual Restaurant 79 words Gooseberry Pie / Six Sentences "When did you stop loving my whimsy?" He starts every fight this way, with the big broad leading questions, and she's always held back her answers for them. When you decided to start this in public; when I turned 20; when all your jokes started being on me. Today's answer, though, comes to her tongue almost unbidden, a date, a city. A hotel room. She sees the incomprehension in his eyes, and she rises to settle her bill.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:14
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Not from here Gooseberry Pie / Six Sentences 113 words There’s a ghost somewhere behind you, between the dunes and the little orange bench that sinks into the sand when you sit down and surprises you because you don’t know the beach comes this far back. Everything out here is built on sand, and one day it’ll go away. Nobody here worries about that, we’ll all be gone by then too, someone else can figure it out. The ghost is still behind you, whispering instructions and whorls of sand that eddy through the tussock. The wind picks up the sand and fills the air with noise that scours words, dunes, layers of skin. The ghost’s gone now too, but you’ll figure it out.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:34
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Kaboria-7 Black Hole Memorial 249 words Apex Magazine / Strange Locations Welcome traveller to the Kaboria-7 Black Hole Memorial. As a precaution please ensure you keep your ship well within the safety beacons marking the event horizon. Before us lies the wreckage of the Adamant Fleet, lost in one of the final battles of Our Divine Conquest. An unnamed commander of the Mask of Worlds, knowing the fight to be lost, turned their imperator drives inwards and created the black hole you now orbit. Some smaller ships were able to escape the immense gravitational pull but vital systems were damaged. They have been left here as a memorial to the untold numbers of dead; for more information on each please refer to our supplementary material. If you tune your comms to Galactic Standard Frequency you can hear the remnants of the fleet's SOS beacons. As there were so many simultaneous broadcasts it can be difficult to discern any one signal, but thanks to the efforts of our volunteers we have identified no less than __54__ unique messages from Divine ships. These signals will persist indefinitely due to the effects of the black hole. Kaboria-7 itself survived relatively unscathed and is now a jewel of the Divine Worlds, responsible for 17.7% of this sector's industrial output. Although its orbit has been skewed by its proximity to the black hole, calculations assure us all it is in no immediate danger. This broadcast beacon has been brought to you by the Divine Worlds Cultural Legacy Commission. Please consider a donation as you leave.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:45
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Late, Again 165 words Gooseberry Pie "Just meet me at eight outside Scalini's," she tells me on the phone right after she says she isn't coming home first. I just scoff and reply, "sure," because how many times has she made that promise? I roll my eyes as she hangs up, where she can't see. She'll be late, like always, and I'll be soaked to the bone by the time she arrives but I know I'll see that smile, the one that shows just a hint of teeth and says, "oh, it's you," and I know I'll forget everything, like I always do. Later she'll joke that she's so awful with appointments she'll even be late to her own funeral, and then catch me off guard with a quick kiss that makes me laugh. It makes me want to hold on to her, to keep her always in my sight, to be late to her funeral too because I'm still at home, stealing kisses from a girl with a wolf's smile.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:45
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Rano Pano 249 words Flash Frontiers / QUIET | MARIRE We're lying down in a field, sharing one set of earphones and listening to the climax of something noisy when I tell you I'm moving away. The wire trails down to her iPod sitting between us, where our fingers are not quite touching. Earlier you'd been cracking jokes almost non-stop. The sun is high above and I can feel my skin burning. Three days before I leave I head out to see you one last time, hoping this time, anything will happen. Someone I've never met before is already lying in bed next to you, watching a movie I pretend not to enjoy. I don't see how it ends. We try and chat online, but the time difference makes long conversations difficult. I get a message on my birthday every year, and send one back. Five years later I'm flying home. I've made a playlist of our favourite songs to drown out the plane and I'll skip to the same three songs, over and over until I fall asleep. Just before we land I wake up to slow, pounding drums and think of you. We'll meet for coffee, one of a dozen coffees with people I used to talk to every day, and an hour later say goodbye. Another four years and I'm sitting on another plane. The birthday message didn't come this year, or the last. Seven years, and I've got flights booked. I think about you for the first time in years, and wonder where you are.
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Feb 5, 2024 04:45
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Excerpt from "The Fish of A-Declercq Bay" 250 words Apex Magazine Venturing beyond the protective reefs awards sights of Bathysalmon and, occasionally, Jeweled Dolphins. However, only swim with an experienced local guide, for these open waters are the domain of the Bridal Shark. Several generations ago, young men would swim down and cut off a shark’s tassel to present to their beloved as a prerequisite to marriage. Nowadays, the tassel is handmade or an heirloom, which is less a concession to animal rights than it is to the danger of the practice. The Bridal Shark's tassel sits atop its thin, five-meter dorsal fin while the shark itself lurks in the depths. When a fish, seal, or lovestruck youth is sensed, the tassel is whisked away as the shark propels itself vertically at its victim, jaws open. Divers should give anything that resembles a small black fish a wide berth. Until recently, the only accommodation in A-Declercq was in backyard outbuildings or at the singular inn, the Dancing Ray. Now, several hotel brands have a presence due to the new Thynas zeppelin route. Locals welcome the goods, mail, and tourism it brings, but it is undeniable that more of the bay’s character will be lost when additional national chains arrive. Already, imitation dolphin jewelry and Bridal Shark tassel keychains have appeared in gift shops. What was once evidence of manhood is now available for purchase, a symbol of devotion reduced to a facsimile. If you want to immerse yourself in the true A-Declercq Bay experience, I suggest you book a trip now.
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Feb 5, 2024 05:39
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flash frontier - quiet 250 Primates Yankov Sammuddictch, autist and autodidact, was confused by the days events, having gone from top sales executive to unemployed within the hour after a meeting with his boss, Mr Zekov. Yankov turned the curious event in his mind while feeding the ducks in the pond his lunch. Mr Zekov first had congratulated him on his figures, offering Yankov a cigar, which he refused on account of his mother, then some vodka, which Yankov also graciously declined. Mr Zekov had seemed pleased by what he called ‘sober habits’ and invited Yankov to his house to dine, and to meet his wife and daughter. To this Yankov also declined knowing he had a full schedule that month teaching violin, studying Nietzsche and watching trains, and further explained that he was celibate. Mr Zekov listened in acceptance at first, then seemed to pause a moment before launching into a furious tirade and firing him on the spot. Yankov pondered this in silence, what had he done wrong? It dawned upon him that Mr Zekov became angry on the third refusal, therefore one must accept whatever is offered if two previous offers were refused. He wrote it in his notebook to think upon later. In the quiet of his room Yankov pondered the notebook. It became clear to him Mr Zekov wanted him to mate with the two females, and Yankov very much wanted his job back. He decided to present himself to them the next morning and started reading on biology to prepare.
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Feb 5, 2024 05:51
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Welcome to the Omniveritas Museum of Extant Realism! 247 words Apex Magazine / Strange Locations We hope that you enjoy your visit, and look forward to sharing our collections with you. For your safety, we ask that you please adhere to all posted rules and regulations throughout your time in our halls. Be advised that failure to abide by said rules and regulations may result in fines, criminal liability, catatonia, psychosis, partial or total loss of limbic function, retroactive nonexistence, or, in extreme cases, ejection from museum premises. Patrons who fail to follow museum rules are NOT entitled to compensation or refund. Please keep your existential anchor on your person at all times. Visitors who did not bring their own anchor can pick up a pre-fabricated one from Guest Services. Please note that we ensure only that these anchors are from the same reality as the local Guest Services desk, and thus cannot guarantee the same efficacy as one specific to you. If you are visiting from another reality and have lost your original anchor, please inform museum staff as soon as possible. Before you enter our halls, there are a few final things to keep in mind: -All exhibits are real and/or factual. Disbelieve at your own risk. -Art is subjective. You may be subject to the art. -Guests whose birthday it is today are advised to leave. Immediately. -Always remember to maintain your own corporeality. The Omniveritas Museum is not responsible for lost belongings or body parts. -ABSOLUTELY NO OUTSIDE FOOD OR DRINK!!! Thank you, and enjoy your stay!
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Feb 5, 2024 06:02
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Anahera Quiet | Marire / Flash Frontier 250 Words (Hidden for publication) cptn_dr fucked around with this message at 22:23 on Mar 13, 2024 |
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Feb 5, 2024 06:29
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What to do in Asterism Delta Apex 250 words Immerse yourself at the Ylem Museum: Everyone knows that Asterism Delta Crucis 3 | Earth is one of the most lucrative sources of ylem in all the worlds of the Dominion, but did you know that it’s more than just fuel in traditional local culture? Learn all about how early Dominion red-shift scouts discovered the planet and its vast ylem repositories, our early encounters with the native Humans, and the beginnings of the industry that still powers the planet’s economy today. In Era-9-3709, the Museum teamed up with award-winning memcrafters and Human experts to recreate what those ancient ylem repositories would have been like, and let you explore inside an historic Human blue-shift ylem-craft. And more technically minded visitors will love hearing how extraction works now that all surface ylem is exhausted. Don’t miss the newest exhibition, Drinking, Dowsing, and Drizzle, which explores the many ways that Human culture celebrated and utilised water (ylem). Hear Human songs, wear a famous blue raincoat, hold a dowsing fork, and paint your own rainbow! If you’re lucky, the local tour guides might even let you take a sip!* Entry by donation. Find out more here! *All ylem tasting uses a synthetic substitute specially designed for consumption. Next feature: Get some warm Human-style hospitality at the Living Earth Cultural Township.
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Feb 5, 2024 06:37
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I wrote another thing today, so I believe I owe a crit! Here it is:kaom posted:Prior Experience Not Required First thought: dermabrasion is a real procedure (god bless sinister plastic-surgery terms?), which I'm not sure is an intentional choice or not -- the concept of a 2034 alpha for something that already exists is a little sinister, but if you want something novel, you might need to coin another term? Second thought: I feel like "Sophie Twitcom" is a little twee as a dystopian name choice, especially given that this is only set 10 years in the future. Maybe use a standard name, but keep the TM? Other than that, I think this is good and faintly sinister, as is appropriate. I'm particularly fond of surgery for entertainment purposes only. Good stuff!
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Feb 5, 2024 06:41
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An Introduction to East Montane For Travelers 226 words Apex Magazine / Strange Locations The first rule of tourism in East Montane: be boorish. Boorishness is not to be confused with rudeness or criminality. To be properly boorish, one must cultivate an attitude of scorn and disinterest for the nation which you have chosen to visit, as if your meticulously-planned tour is an embarrassing accident. Learn three phrases of the local tongues, and pronounce them poorly. Pay no obvious attention to your tour guides. Complain loudly about the offerings at restaurants, until the waiter offers you a plain cutlet of some familiar meat. Treat East Montane as a bore and a burden, its history as trivial, its customs as an inconvenience. The locals will be unfailingly gracious. Do not mistake this graciousness for deference. Natives of East Montane know the sting of insult as much as anyone; the pain they know better, though, is that of the traveler who takes too keen an interest in their nation. East Montanian population control statutes are harsh, immigration laws for the wealthy lax. Every enthralled tourist who immigrates is a conception license not issued, or worse, a surplus East Montanian to be stricken from the rolls by any means necessary. Every enchanted foreigner is a threat. Appreciate the charm of East Montane, but keep it to yourself, lest the natives' greetings turn from gracious to cautious. Be boorish, but tip well. Leave promptly.
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Feb 5, 2024 06:41
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Family (Prompt 3: Six sentences, 294 words) The three ships arrived at the same time, each of them miles long, wormlike and writhing, and while all three could be seen on YouTube, San Diego’s was easily the most spectacular, with its dusky Pacific clouds pulled to ashen taffy before stiffening into crooked triangular shards miles long end to end, all stabbing inwards towards a central point, then sagging back into themselves as the visitors unspooled themselves into our world. As a species we were generally batshit with fear at first, of course, but that grew boring with time and was soon replaced by a petulant anger at the way they batted away our planes and shrugged at our bombs, which would in turn give way to an odd resentment, or even envy, for their silent and monolithic indifference to us. When it became more clear that they were helping us, things got much more complicated; some shrank further into suspicion and distrust, while others fell to worship them as gods. So they saved our oceans, and purged the skies of all our poisons, and nursed our ailing forests, and coaxed our home's aching soil to fresh life, and so it was hardly strange that many of us came to love them as silent guardians to us all, strange step-parents charged with our well-being. Twice in one year the night skies flickered and pulsed with ghosts of white flame as they fended off intruders far beyond the atmosphere, guarding our precious world from harm. And even at the end, when the first newborn tendrils burst from the ground like colossal roots, splintering the oceans and cracking the earth like a walnut as the newborn wriggled free, even then we could not hate them for protecting their children, as any good parent should.
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Feb 5, 2024 08:58
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Submissions are closed! Crits are still welcome and encouraged. Take us into week 601, derp!
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Feb 5, 2024 09:06
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Week 601 - going under the knife I’m going to have my first surgery ever in a few days, and my first time going under anesthesia since i was a teen (which doesnt count since teens are barely conscious anyway) and I am having all kinds of thoughts about death and stuff, so, now you get to as well! PROMPT: Your character is about to do something which might kill them. What are their thoughts on this? Wait a minute, you say, isn't literally every thunderdome story about someone doing something that might kill them? Yes BUT, most judges don't demand introspection on this, I DO DEMAND INTROSPECTION. Your story can be about whatever you want, but make sure you describe the existential crisis going on in your character’s skull with at least as much effort as you do whatever external stuff is going on. You can ask for a flash and I’ll give you some innocuous action which is the thing which might kill your character. (example that no one will get: pushing a button) You’ll have to figure out why it’s deadly. I wont be able to give flashes on wednesday or probably thursday, so other judges can provide them for those days if needed. 1500 words Usual rules, no erotica, no political screeds, no fanfiction, I generally don't give negative mentions but reserve the right to do so. signups close friday midnight pst, submissions close sunday midnight pst (or later if i fall asleep early and forget to close them until the morning) Judges: Me ? ? Entrants: fat jesus beep beep captain person saddest rhino obliterati sitting here thranguy derp fucked around with this message at 18:15 on Feb 8, 2024 |
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Feb 5, 2024 09:14
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In. also, please don't die
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Feb 5, 2024 09:21
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Prompt 1 & Prompt 2 Even Gravity Can’t Bring Us Together (250 words) If you come to that natural rock formation at the peak of the mountain, that upside-down ziggurat-like structure made of porous rock coloured brown by millennia of windswept dust swept from the deserts thousands of miles away, where the inside is a hollow cylinder which you must climb to reach the top, and you look up at the midnight sky on the slab on top, close your eyes, and place your favoured hand on your face palm inwards, fingers covering your favoured eye. Open that eye and let your index and middle fingers part, and look through the crevice, at the moon in its lonesome. Leave your eye open, pull the fingers back, then draw them apart again. Do you see it? The sky is moonless. The stars twinkle, uncaring. Now move your fingers so when your middle and ring fingers part, your eye will see through that crack. Draw your fingers, like curtains. See? The moon has returned. Close your fingers and re-open them. The moon is gone again. Try it again with your ring and little finger. A disappearing and reappearing moon again. You can only witness the moon playing its tricks here, on this plateau, and you must be alone. It wishes to be observed, alone. Bring a friend and the trick fails. It cannot be captured via equipment. The moon orbits the earth, always close by, but never feeling each other’s touch. Perhaps the moon, in its lonesome, wants someone to know how it feels.
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Feb 5, 2024 10:07
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Prompt 1 and 2 Spoilers for Final Imaginary Friend in Hidden Stage and What I Learnt (250 words) Fail all the minigames, get the bad ending (see my other guide) 3 times. Usually Jolly appears in the car backseat to stab you for escaping the nursery alone but this time your model will t-pose spawn. You can move freely, this is “noclip”. Exit the car, go out of bounds, you’ll see all the levels. Move downwards, ignore the sewer subway and skull catacombs until you see the dev’s test room where usually Wally is hiding for the good ending. You can see behind the no-door-programmed fridge there’s a long hallway to a blank space. Go there, you won’t see anything at first but if you turn the lights off and on a teddy bear head will spawn then it will grow one limb at a time based on the other Imaginary Friend’s assets, it’s randomised and the texture flickers doing the glitchy screentears and branch cracking noises. It’ll just stand there glitching and if you interact with them the dialog box says Why Won’t You Stay but it won’t do anything else unless you touch them. Like all the Imaginary Friends if they catch you you’d get sent to Baby Jail. You have to go out of your way. Maybe the dev didn’t code in enemy AI, they have no name either. After that you can leave them alone and close the game. Maybe the dev will do more content but this game and secret are 5 years old. Thanks for reading check my bio for more guides.
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Feb 5, 2024 10:26
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| # ? May 29, 2024 04:42 |
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i was writing these and loaded an older page so never saw the sub closed post... anyway those were for Week 600 lol
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Feb 5, 2024 10:27
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