Register a SA Forums Account here!
JOINING THE SA FORUMS WILL REMOVE THIS BIG AD, THE ANNOYING UNDERLINED ADS, AND STUPID INTERSTITIAL ADS!!!

You can: log in, read the tech support FAQ, or request your lost password. This dumb message (and those ads) will appear on every screen until you register! Get rid of this crap by registering your own SA Forums Account and joining roughly 150,000 Goons, for the one-time price of $9.95! We charge money because it costs us money per month for bills, and since we don't believe in showing ads to our users, we try to make the money back through forum registrations.
 
Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.

Mercedes posted:

In, bitches. Flash me.

Someone's drawing crop circles... on the Moon?!

In, flash.

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.


In.

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.
Prompt: Wifredo Lam - Dark Malembo, God of the Crossroads https://www.artsy.net/artwork/wilfr...-the-crossroads

RE: WHAT IS SHE DOING DOWN HERE
1320 words


Oh, now you want to talk about it? Fine. Let’s talk about it. That Sunday was dinner and movie night. We made goulash, she was very helpful. The movie was great. And yes, okay: afterwards Roisin went out to the beach and reshaped again. So maybe she did become a deep red starfish, this time with three hundred arms and a wide-irised eye on the base of each, and maybe she did start heading towards a very specific point on the bottom of the North Sea; but that’s not the problem here. Firstly, I’m not the one who used to bring their work home. Secondly, we both know why she keeps doing it.

Surely you haven’t just noticed? Don’t you have sensors down there worth a poo poo? I see you’ve got internet. She’s been changing as she goes deeper, every dive’s lessons feeding back into the design. It’s getting bigger, stranger. The latest thing: now she spins constantly and silently like a sub’s propeller. You tell me what animal that is. This time we were headed to the edge of the midnight zone and I was worried: if she slipped down into the black I’d have to go loud.

Yes, I reshape as a dolphin, even though I told you I’d rather drink bleach than do it. It’s all very amusing and you can spare me the I-told-you-sos. She made it for me: roll that around your mouth instead. You’re off making people into crab-shark assassins and manta-squid shocktroopers and all that, and our daughter showed me how to reshape into a dolphin. Even though that means I come too.

Her words glowed in the dark, let me pick her out in the gathering gloom. I told you it was fine mum she said, in spiraling lines of red across the nearest hundred arms, and leveled herself out. She’s spliced in octopus skin since I started coming. Easy in easy out. Her central mouth opened impossibly wide, undulated, and disgorged the bluelight camera. A couple of arms flicked it on and began taking pictures of the space below. Just recon today.

I rolled myself over and looked down. Nothing but the faintest speck of pale light, unknown fathoms away. I chirped.

??? Still dont speak chirp. Pls let me upgrade your ride before i die of shame.

She bloody well knew what I meant. I chirped again.

Ok promise ok no deeper i said already ok. The thick water caught the light of her words and held it close, like it might try and run.

Roisin’s instrument clicked and hummed. Whatever she could see there with her bluelight cameras and infrared eyes was just the void to a dolphin. So instead I tried to listen with my whole head, like the real dolphins do. Just the usual vibrations, the deep churning of powergen and aircyclers.

Im serious tho because theyll hear it later when were closer.

I twisted my head and gave her the Look as best I could.

SAID LATER MUM LATER DOES NOT MEAN NOW OK.

(You see the problem? What am I to do with a sixteen-year-old intent on approaching a very specific point on the bottom of the Irish Sea - give her a good chirping to? She has your reshaping tech, your love of bolding, and more besides)

I chirped one last time, authoritatively. We would talk about this little outburst later, when I had a larynx.

But when the sound went out into the water it bounced back all wrong. Something was moving down there. It hit my ears as a thick struggling. I looked down. That faint light was getting brighter, coming closer, bobbing wildly like it was on the end of a line.

I waved a fin at her. We were too close. But she had turned her attention to the readings, and she didn’t see anything until Mike came looming out of the dark. I remember that weird little kid lurking out on the beach when you still visited, guarding the submarine. The tattoos are still there on his arms, for Christ’s sake! I could hear the water rush differently over the raised skin.

Mike the anglerfish-man opened his cavernous mouth and revealed those long dagger teeth, his limbs thrashing in place of fins and tail, going for the kill. How would you have liked that, Frank? Our daughter landing down there in a rain of arms?

I put on a burst of speed and launched myself forward. I rammed him head first, knocking him back - it’s not like I had arms - and got between him and Roisin. She had twisted herself into a new shape, her arms pulled back behind her like a squid’s.

I chirped. But I don’t think he speaks chirp either. Instead of backing off the fucker sank his teeth into my left flipper. Blood spiraled into the water. I screamed, a loud piercing shriek that must have set off every bottlenose in a hundred miles, and that’s when she hit him with the inkjet. He let go and span away, trailing black and red.

She fired another jet, smothering Mike’s spindly lantern. He flapped his hands wildly, trying to clear the smog, and then she dove through it and was upon him. A hundred arms held his two fast, another hundred closed that hellish mouth, a few spinning off severed; the last hundred were a rippling sea, twisting and striking and also still holding the camera. He didn’t stand a chance.

Two arms curled around the long thin lantern’s stalk. Then she pulled. It came off like a plucked flower. Mike recoiled, his hands feeling for the bloody stump. Colour flashed across her skin. gently caress off Mike she said. She remembers him too, you know. Mike took one more look at her, drawn up in combat stance with inkjets primed and three hundred arms ready for trouble, and he turned tail and flailed back down into the darkness.

She turned to me and laid a single arm on my torn flipper. Mum you ok.

I chirped quietly, flexing it, wondering how baseline it really was. It’d hold, for now.

She turned over Mike’s lantern in her arms. The light at its tip fizzled weakly. Not bad kit, she said, and jammed it into her skin. There was no blood. Instead her flesh met the addition eagerly, pushing up and around the stalk until it held firm. The light flickered once then shone brightly. Her circular mouth twisted into something I know to be a grin. Easy in easy out she said. She swallowed the camera whole and gripped me with her arms, the rough suckers softly clasping to my skin. Then we swam upward and homeward, Mike’s lantern lighting the way, before the crab-sharks caught our scent.

So I’ll be straight with you, Frank. If it were up to me I’d rather you just stayed down there forever. But we have a child together, and that changes things. You were a lovely father, but that’s not the problem here. We both know what the real problem is: she’s better at this than you are. She doesn’t just turn a guy into a cobra-seal and call it a day. Every dive she refines the shape of herself, prepares it for her objective. And she’s getting closer.

So here’s what I think she’s doing. She’s giving you a choice. Either you can come out of your lair and actually talk to your daughter, man-to-custom design tactical starfish, or you can try and stop her. But I don’t fancy your chances. Hide if you want. When she’s ready, she’ll come pry you out of there like the meat from a mussel and there’s nothing you or I can do about it.

You want to know what she’s doing down there? What the hell are you doing down there, Frank?

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.
I picked a loving terrible month to quit weed didin't I

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.
Have you heard enough about Week 419? No? In that case you're extremely fortunate because :toot: the rebooted Thunderdome recaps podcast :toot: had numerous opinions on the words you done made! Some of them were not negative! This week I, Sitting Here, Uranium Phoenix and Yoruichi covered the following topics:
  • Advanced Shitposting Metatheory!
  • Dulcet Scots tones and pitch-perfect valley girl imitation accents!
  • Why was the week full of witches?
  • Your story, assuming you were in this week!

Obliterati fucked around with this message at 09:29 on Aug 23, 2020

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.
Contributor: take the moon
Genre: Science Fiction
Protagonist attribute: mental ward patient
Protagonist obstructor: vainglory
What the protagonist wants: the sun to shine again
Story setting: alternate version of earth thats also sci fi & poo poo
Setting details: aeons in the future, bleed between dimensions with a force field around it
World problem: the bleed between dimensions is making peoples cells disentegrate
Your protagonist... Is about to discover what they want
Your protagonist's attribute... Becomes an OBSTRUCTOR
Your protagonist's obstructor... takes the character completely by surprise
At the end of the story... The world problem is not solved, but it's getting better



The Several Proclamations of the Man-who-is-the-Moon
927 words


At the unanimous request and desire of the people of this world, since the Doctor does absolutely not get a vote and all others have fled into shadow; we, Maximilian? Andromachus? McAfee II?? the Lunar Emperor, formerly of the endarkened ‘Earth’ and ‘Tycho Mining Corporation’, declare and proclaim ourselves to be the sole Sovereign of All Luna.

By virtue of the authority herein invested in us by us we announce any previous claims upon this ‘the Moon’ by the overcast nations of Terra to be null and void, direct that the spaceport henceforth be open to accept all refugees who shall submit to the Imperial Authority, and assert that the Empire of Luna shall resist and destroy that ‘Bleed’ which wraps your world in darkness.

- from the Sunlit Throne, The Capitol (formerly ‘Tycho Mining Base Mass Driver Control’), 1st Majesty Year One-


-yes yes Doctor, very well! But we still consider this exercise to be a waste of the Imperial Time. We have claimed this world for our own and stood beneath an unshadowed Sun: that should be enough for anyone to know that we are serious about this. But very well. You shall be humoured, at least until the first of our subjects arrive and a surgeon can be found to prise you from our skull.

You wish to know why we have assumed the Imperial Authority? Well how about you shut up for a moment you algorithmic plague shut up shut up and let me- we- work-

We are well aware of your opinion on our task. This is because you do not understand Imperium. It is our solemn and inevitable duty to command all the forces of Luna against the Alien threat. If the Terrans shall abandon their occupation and settle for a life in shadow then we must take up the burden.

Let it be known that their Regolithic Majesty the Lunar Emperor, on behalf of the great arsenals of Luna, send our profound regrets for the ongoing failure to strike against the ‘Bleed’. Thus, we decree: those individuals with skills most conducive either to settlement or to the building of more mass drivers shall answer our summons at once and attend us at Alexandria-on Marineris? Yankuitenochtitlan? Nova Byzantion?? The Capitol with immediate effect.

- from the Sunlit Throne, The Capitol, 12th Majesty Year One-


We were in the yard when it first appeared - you and we, so we both saw it happen. You had just been installed. This was before we donned our crown and cut you off from the rest of the facility, so you likely saw better. You had all the cameras to watch through, the ability to zoom in. We just had the pane of glass.

By the time it had come to our attention the morning had already been smothered. As we watched the Bleed settle into place across the planet’s face like a shroud, the afternoon and evening followed it. A darkness fell that did not lift.

And then you dare to ask why we fashioned our crown from aluminium foil, quickly coronated ourselves in the hospital chapel and escaped? We rather thought that a being in your profession could, you know, work it out yourself. Is that not the point of you?

Hark, nations of Terra! The Lunar Emperor, Master of the Airless Spaces, strives relentlessly in the pursuit of the defence of humanity and regrets to learn of the consequences on human bodies of approaching too close to the ‘Bleed’.

In our capacity as the last hope for all life we decree: if none are able to depart Terra to join us, we shall act on our own. We thus request that at the very least you send us your latest media. This is but a small price for our monumental labours and the people crave recent episodes of CSI: Low Earth Orbit.

- from the Cardinal? Golden? Monolithic?? Throne, The Capitol, 16th Industry Year One-


Tell me - what use at all is your obsession? We suspect that your skills might be best employed on analysing yourself, ascertaining what defects have you cling to such useless purpose. Has it helped align the mass drivers? Has it mined their stony payloads? Further - you have already heard our answer to the question.

We are the Lunar Emperor because no-one else would be. We are the Lunar Emperor because the ‘sane’ staff fled in haste back down to the dark homeworld and they can drat well stay there! Because on great people lies the weight of terrible vision- so spare us your prattling about ‘trauma’ and ‘treatment pathways’. You are tolerated within the Imperial Head. This is enough!

What we need from you right now is your silence while I work! Shut up shut up shut up-

Terrans!

Several hours ago the brave soldiers of the Empire of Luna engaged the Enemy. With the awesome fury of our single mass driver, we successfully landed several strikes on the ‘Bleed’. We recognise that it is not much. It may be only a few holes and there may be some small destruction on the ground below; but through them we have brought you sunlight, and hope. Also, we were very careful to avoid inhabited regions.

In the light of our achievements on your behalf and my- our ability to throw rocks at you very hard, we demand the immediate recognition of Lunar independence and for none to hinder the teeming millions who surely wish to join us.

- from the Capitol, 1st Victory Year One? Zero? One?? Zero??? One, shut up shut up-

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

Obliterati
Nov 13, 2012

Pain is inevitable.
Suffering is optional.
Thunderdome is forever.
You can take my losertar from my cold dead loser's hands

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5