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[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
"Sky's all clear, Cap'n," the First Mate called out towards the twelve-toothed terror of the troposphere, the nefarious Captain Dubblebubblebeard. ​ The sailor relinquished control over the helm as the scraggly, gum-bearded man set his feet on the top deck. ​ Searching the mess of chewed gum and hair that was his beard, the captain soon found his bounty. ​ Last night's wad with his lucky gold tooth still embedded, which he plucked and set in place. ​ Back in the socket within his gums, it gleamed through his smile that swiftly turned sour. ​ But not nearly as sour as his rival, whose sails were revealed in the clearing. ​ "Sultan Vinegar," Dubblebubblebeard snarled, not being the sort to forget the fractious fiend's trespass. ​ The Sultan once dared to wash the wads right from the Captain's beard! ​ "Full ahead, ye cumulus curs," he sharply barked, "we'll get the bastard!" ​ Large, masted wrappers fully unfurled and caught the wind most favorably. ​ "Ready those cannons, pack the paper and spare no spittle! ​ The crew toiled, stuffing spitwads into the ship's serpentines. ​ "Sultan's flag's raised, Cap'n," called the lookout aloft. ​ "Very good, I'm champing for a fight!" ​ The ships advanced, none would yeild. ​ "Make peace, ye windswept welps!" ​ "There'll be no quarter-" ​ The alarm chirped. ​ I awoke. ​ "What...?"
**Conversation** ----- Him: "You were the one who told me that after all of this time, this was all that you ever wanted." Her: "And what if that's not the case anymore? What if I wanted something else, something new, something... not this?" Him: "Then.. I wouldn't really know what to say to you. My feelings have never been easy to express." Her: "Except when it comes to MY feelings? Most times it's like you've already made up your mind!" Him: "You're not being fair with me. You're acting as if I'm not human, incapable of mistakes." Her: "All I want is for this to be real enough, that's all. Is that wrong?" Him: "It's wrong if all you're looking for is perfection. I'm a human, not God." Her: "I never said you were. That's not something that I'd assume about someone." Him: "Except you're not wiling to let me make mistakes, to live life." Her: "I just don't want something uncontrollable to screw these things up." Him: "That's just you detaching from reality. True control is impossible." Her: "You know that's not something that I agree with." Him: "Then go ahead and tell me the truth." Her: "I don't think I'm ready for that." Him: "Then I think I should ask." Him: "Do you still love me?" Her: "Oh please. Come on." Him: "Answer the queston!" Him: "Do you?" Her: "No."
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
5 seconds left on the clock, we are down by 2 in Game 7, playing on the road in Boston It’s the Finals, I look to my left and see coach calling the play, I’ll take the final shot. It’s time, now or never. Thomas is hounding me, hanging on to me like a scared newborn baby Whistle blows and Lin will be inbounding, I run, clapping my hands frantically, begging for the ball I feel Thomas lose me and I catch the ball, looking for a sliver of daylight I feel leather in my hand, still damp and rough from 48 minutes of play I dribble once and see Wade running to me, cut left to lose him Dribble again, another defender on me, no good. I cut to the right. Behind the back dribble. 3 seconds left, need to shoot the ball I sprint to the three point line, pull up and release I am hit on my way down, no foul call I can’t see shit and everything’s in slow motion I feel like I’m underwater, gasping for air The buzzer sounds, echoing around the arena I’m dazed and glance at coach His face is lit up I see fans crying I stand up I’m surrounded Glory \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the first time I've ever written something so I apologise if it isn't good. I also couldn't think of a topic so I decided to write on something I'm extremely familiar with. I really hope you guys enjoy this and would really appreciate any feedback! ​ ​
I was running late, deafened by the rain crashing down on my umbrella as I weaved through the crowded sidewalk. Everyone was staring at the ground, shielding their faces from the downpour, and maneuvering cautiously to avoid any contact. It was a dreary morning with clouds so dark you could’ve sworn the sun never rose at all. Part of me wishes it hadn’t, but then again, I never imagined this day coming to light. I wondered why I was even walking so fast or cared that I was on time. Hell, they made me wait all this time, so might as well return the favor. I turned the corner and soon noticed the coffee shop sign across the street. As I waited for the traffic to clear, my thoughts began to race. I could turn and walk away and no one would ever know. Except for them, but that’s probably the least that they deserve. I scurry across the soaked pavement toward the little shop. Only a few steps left and then everything changes. I extend my hand to open the door. Have I just made a terrible mistake? I step inside and look around. There’s still time to run. Nope, there they are. Our eyes meet. I speak. “Hi.”
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
5 seconds left on the clock, we are down by 2 in Game 7, playing on the road in Boston It’s the Finals, I look to my left and see coach calling the play, I’ll take the final shot. It’s time, now or never. Thomas is hounding me, hanging on to me like a scared newborn baby Whistle blows and Lin will be inbounding, I run, clapping my hands frantically, begging for the ball I feel Thomas lose me and I catch the ball, looking for a sliver of daylight I feel leather in my hand, still damp and rough from 48 minutes of play I dribble once and see Wade running to me, cut left to lose him Dribble again, another defender on me, no good. I cut to the right. Behind the back dribble. 3 seconds left, need to shoot the ball I sprint to the three point line, pull up and release I am hit on my way down, no foul call I can’t see shit and everything’s in slow motion I feel like I’m underwater, gasping for air The buzzer sounds, echoing around the arena I’m dazed and glance at coach His face is lit up I see fans crying I stand up I’m surrounded Glory \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the first time I've ever written something so I apologise if it isn't good. I also couldn't think of a topic so I decided to write on something I'm extremely familiar with. I really hope you guys enjoy this and would really appreciate any feedback! ​ ​
I open my eyes through the window to the snow falling outside, it’s been coming down for a few hours. The end of the year is always strange to me, this time between the holidays just stuck in limbo. A familiar gray Toyota slides down my street and skids as it turns the corner out of sight. Early this morning I received some news that I have been expecting for quite some time now. It started so subtly, a forgettable soreness or a passing headache, nothing that raised any concern. As if my check engine light came on but I ignored it and kept driving. The pains became sharp, unpredictable stabs and the headaches swelled into vicious, crippling migraines. I ignored it still, pressing down the fear that grew in my belly. I thought that if I kept going the sickness would forget me. Maybe it would pass me by and I could hide away. That was eight months ago, which seems like a lifetime. I guess now a lifetime doesn’t seem very long. I can see my breath on the window. It sticks for a moment then evaporates. There’s just three days till January. The snow has stopped falling. I don’t feel afraid. I feel lonely. I wonder. Why? ​
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
5 seconds left on the clock, we are down by 2 in Game 7, playing on the road in Boston It’s the Finals, I look to my left and see coach calling the play, I’ll take the final shot. It’s time, now or never. Thomas is hounding me, hanging on to me like a scared newborn baby Whistle blows and Lin will be inbounding, I run, clapping my hands frantically, begging for the ball I feel Thomas lose me and I catch the ball, looking for a sliver of daylight I feel leather in my hand, still damp and rough from 48 minutes of play I dribble once and see Wade running to me, cut left to lose him Dribble again, another defender on me, no good. I cut to the right. Behind the back dribble. 3 seconds left, need to shoot the ball I sprint to the three point line, pull up and release I am hit on my way down, no foul call I can’t see shit and everything’s in slow motion I feel like I’m underwater, gasping for air The buzzer sounds, echoing around the arena I’m dazed and glance at coach His face is lit up I see fans crying I stand up I’m surrounded Glory \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the first time I've ever written something so I apologise if it isn't good. I also couldn't think of a topic so I decided to write on something I'm extremely familiar with. I really hope you guys enjoy this and would really appreciate any feedback! ​ ​
There is a certain fear that you feel, when you're being hunted by some unknown assailant in the dark night. Glancing over your shoulder, something moving in the corner of your eye, but when you look it's gone. You walk alone, the feeling like someone might be watching you is pervasive and terrifying, like a paranoid animal. As street lamps flicker and your footsteps echo, the smallest noise is enough to make you jump. It's easy to dismiss as nerves on a night time stroll, but it's more than that. Your eyes dart from side to side, looking for whoever it is that stalks you. A clattering as small animal darts across ahead of you, spooked by something unseen. A noise behind you, but when you turn there is nothing to see. Your pace quickens, home and safe is where you need to be. Something changes, you hear them now, more than one of them. The open night air has never felt so oppressively claustrophobic. They could be closing in but you see nothing. The group is hunting you, waiting to pounce. The darkness seems to be closing in. You don't know where they are. But you know they're there. You'll never see them. But they're everywhere. Look out. Ninjas.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
5 seconds left on the clock, we are down by 2 in Game 7, playing on the road in Boston It’s the Finals, I look to my left and see coach calling the play, I’ll take the final shot. It’s time, now or never. Thomas is hounding me, hanging on to me like a scared newborn baby Whistle blows and Lin will be inbounding, I run, clapping my hands frantically, begging for the ball I feel Thomas lose me and I catch the ball, looking for a sliver of daylight I feel leather in my hand, still damp and rough from 48 minutes of play I dribble once and see Wade running to me, cut left to lose him Dribble again, another defender on me, no good. I cut to the right. Behind the back dribble. 3 seconds left, need to shoot the ball I sprint to the three point line, pull up and release I am hit on my way down, no foul call I can’t see shit and everything’s in slow motion I feel like I’m underwater, gasping for air The buzzer sounds, echoing around the arena I’m dazed and glance at coach His face is lit up I see fans crying I stand up I’m surrounded Glory \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the first time I've ever written something so I apologise if it isn't good. I also couldn't think of a topic so I decided to write on something I'm extremely familiar with. I really hope you guys enjoy this and would really appreciate any feedback! ​ ​
She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I met her right before she started dating my close friend, perhaps the worst pain I have ever experienced. It killed me to have to keep my feelings bottled up, and watch her be with someone else. For three months, I had to do the most difficult thing I've ever done; wait, wait silently. I could not tell anyone, I could not cry, I had no outlet to vent to. I just pretended it didn't bother me, and took it out on other unrelated people. I became her friend to learn about her, hoping someday I might have her. Keep in mind I never thought I would, she was far above me. Eventually she left him, and I waited two months before doing anything. We went to the fair, I planned to confess my feelings... And my world stopped when she beat me to it. She loved me just like I had loved her. All my past silent pain was worth it. At the top of the ferris wheel, My life changed forever, for better. She was mine to love. Her matching ethical code. Her immense beauty. Her love. Her. *Inspired* *by* *the* *true* *story* *of* *how* *I* *met* *my* *partner.*
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
5 seconds left on the clock, we are down by 2 in Game 7, playing on the road in Boston It’s the Finals, I look to my left and see coach calling the play, I’ll take the final shot. It’s time, now or never. Thomas is hounding me, hanging on to me like a scared newborn baby Whistle blows and Lin will be inbounding, I run, clapping my hands frantically, begging for the ball I feel Thomas lose me and I catch the ball, looking for a sliver of daylight I feel leather in my hand, still damp and rough from 48 minutes of play I dribble once and see Wade running to me, cut left to lose him Dribble again, another defender on me, no good. I cut to the right. Behind the back dribble. 3 seconds left, need to shoot the ball I sprint to the three point line, pull up and release I am hit on my way down, no foul call I can’t see shit and everything’s in slow motion I feel like I’m underwater, gasping for air The buzzer sounds, echoing around the arena I’m dazed and glance at coach His face is lit up I see fans crying I stand up I’m surrounded Glory \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the first time I've ever written something so I apologise if it isn't good. I also couldn't think of a topic so I decided to write on something I'm extremely familiar with. I really hope you guys enjoy this and would really appreciate any feedback! ​ ​
The first time I tried it I was king of the world, nothing would stop this euphoria pulsing through me. I felt- everything, and nothing all at once it was everything I'd craved and never found in a bottle I couldn't stop telling him how damn good it felt, I was so glad we tried it together. He smiled wildly..I was melting into a pool of honey, he said he was glad too When we kissed then it felt like we were astronauts landing on a new sensation We should stay here drifting into nothingness until the sun collies with the ocean Until the universe spits out one last galaxy and we get swallowed up There we stayed, intertwined on the sofa spoons strewn on the table Was it still in my arm? I didn’t even fucking care I had him and bliss what else did we need Apart from more of that good injectable magic potion But it ran out, we came back down- We crash landed back on earth, rapidly There was nothing left to ingest No money for another bag We returned to volatile Everything was concrete There’s Nothing. Nothing.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
There comes a time in a man's life when he knows, for a fact, that he simply cannot "chicken out". For me, that time came as I stood on a platform 180 feet above a shallow pool of water. A thick band of rubberized bunjee cord was around my ankles, and beads of sweat on my brow. With shaking knees and gulping breath, I tottered out to the edge and hung my toes over. "Hackett's Bunjee Jumping and Adventure Center" screamed the bright red awning below, in wild type face. A rush of cowardice swept over me, but was beaten back by one imperative thought. My fourteen-year-old daughter, who was growing up so fast, had gone before. She just calmly stood there, awaiting her turn, then waved awkwardly and jumped. So now it was my turn, and fear was not an option. If I back out, there's no way to live this down. So I took a deep breath (as you'd probably expect). I gave a thumbs-up to anyone watching me. Bending my knees slightly, I leaned forward slowly. All quiet, except wind in my ears. And the voice of my daughter. Below, she shouted her encouragement. "Hey you up there! Let's go, Daddio!" Here goes... Geronimo!!!
Unicorns certainly are quite a quaint team of beasts, if you think about their ability to soar through the skies. Do they take off like airplanes, speeding down a runway, and if so, how long it ought to be? Or do they rather ascend heavenwards like helicopters, and if so, which body part is the rotating one? I certainly don’t think about unicorns a lot, since I feel there is little merit to it. But aren’t you curious, what they may eat, and if they do, where it all goes? How much hay does a unicorn devour in a day, or could they be carnivores? But I really don’t think there is a point in asking all these questions. Do you think unicorns can speak, and if they do, in what language? Would it even be comprehensible by us, or speak it’s own tounge? I really hope that they don’t communicate by reading our minds. There is really no point thinking about these dumb questions. Because, I swear, I never want to meet unicorns. Especially not dick-propelled, carnivorous, mind-reading ones. Who am I kidding, unicorns don’t exist. This train of thought is dumb. Huh, sounds like a helicopter? Don’t read my mind! I taste bad! A rainbow? nian
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
"Sky's all clear, Cap'n," the First Mate called out towards the twelve-toothed terror of the troposphere, the nefarious Captain Dubblebubblebeard. ​ The sailor relinquished control over the helm as the scraggly, gum-bearded man set his feet on the top deck. ​ Searching the mess of chewed gum and hair that was his beard, the captain soon found his bounty. ​ Last night's wad with his lucky gold tooth still embedded, which he plucked and set in place. ​ Back in the socket within his gums, it gleamed through his smile that swiftly turned sour. ​ But not nearly as sour as his rival, whose sails were revealed in the clearing. ​ "Sultan Vinegar," Dubblebubblebeard snarled, not being the sort to forget the fractious fiend's trespass. ​ The Sultan once dared to wash the wads right from the Captain's beard! ​ "Full ahead, ye cumulus curs," he sharply barked, "we'll get the bastard!" ​ Large, masted wrappers fully unfurled and caught the wind most favorably. ​ "Ready those cannons, pack the paper and spare no spittle! ​ The crew toiled, stuffing spitwads into the ship's serpentines. ​ "Sultan's flag's raised, Cap'n," called the lookout aloft. ​ "Very good, I'm champing for a fight!" ​ The ships advanced, none would yeild. ​ "Make peace, ye windswept welps!" ​ "There'll be no quarter-" ​ The alarm chirped. ​ I awoke. ​ "What...?"
Unicorns certainly are quite a quaint team of beasts, if you think about their ability to soar through the skies. Do they take off like airplanes, speeding down a runway, and if so, how long it ought to be? Or do they rather ascend heavenwards like helicopters, and if so, which body part is the rotating one? I certainly don’t think about unicorns a lot, since I feel there is little merit to it. But aren’t you curious, what they may eat, and if they do, where it all goes? How much hay does a unicorn devour in a day, or could they be carnivores? But I really don’t think there is a point in asking all these questions. Do you think unicorns can speak, and if they do, in what language? Would it even be comprehensible by us, or speak it’s own tounge? I really hope that they don’t communicate by reading our minds. There is really no point thinking about these dumb questions. Because, I swear, I never want to meet unicorns. Especially not dick-propelled, carnivorous, mind-reading ones. Who am I kidding, unicorns don’t exist. This train of thought is dumb. Huh, sounds like a helicopter? Don’t read my mind! I taste bad! A rainbow? nian
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
There comes a time in a man's life when he knows, for a fact, that he simply cannot "chicken out". For me, that time came as I stood on a platform 180 feet above a shallow pool of water. A thick band of rubberized bunjee cord was around my ankles, and beads of sweat on my brow. With shaking knees and gulping breath, I tottered out to the edge and hung my toes over. "Hackett's Bunjee Jumping and Adventure Center" screamed the bright red awning below, in wild type face. A rush of cowardice swept over me, but was beaten back by one imperative thought. My fourteen-year-old daughter, who was growing up so fast, had gone before. She just calmly stood there, awaiting her turn, then waved awkwardly and jumped. So now it was my turn, and fear was not an option. If I back out, there's no way to live this down. So I took a deep breath (as you'd probably expect). I gave a thumbs-up to anyone watching me. Bending my knees slightly, I leaned forward slowly. All quiet, except wind in my ears. And the voice of my daughter. Below, she shouted her encouragement. "Hey you up there! Let's go, Daddio!" Here goes... Geronimo!!!
Darling, I finished making the pasta for tonight. ...Darling? Why is it so eerily quiet in the house right now? Oh my God! My love, darling, are you alright? We have to get you to the hospital right away. She's had several health scares in the last year. I don't want to say it, but I'm terrified. What exactly do you mean by "her condition is worsening"? That doesn't make sense in the slightest. I know you can make the right decision in the end, but you must remember yourself. I'm sorry I have to leave you my love, I promise I'll be back soon. Why do they keep ringing the doorbell; I don't need more cards about her. I know this is difficult, but can you read this over for me? My friend, what is all this about a nursing home for me? We have to come up with something to keep you healthy. Stop talking to me about a plan for her death. I'm sure you know she doesn't have much longer. I must go, the hospital is calling me. Thank you for coming when I called. What is troubling you, my love? I have to go now. I'm gonna miss you. I love you. I know. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
"Sky's all clear, Cap'n," the First Mate called out towards the twelve-toothed terror of the troposphere, the nefarious Captain Dubblebubblebeard. ​ The sailor relinquished control over the helm as the scraggly, gum-bearded man set his feet on the top deck. ​ Searching the mess of chewed gum and hair that was his beard, the captain soon found his bounty. ​ Last night's wad with his lucky gold tooth still embedded, which he plucked and set in place. ​ Back in the socket within his gums, it gleamed through his smile that swiftly turned sour. ​ But not nearly as sour as his rival, whose sails were revealed in the clearing. ​ "Sultan Vinegar," Dubblebubblebeard snarled, not being the sort to forget the fractious fiend's trespass. ​ The Sultan once dared to wash the wads right from the Captain's beard! ​ "Full ahead, ye cumulus curs," he sharply barked, "we'll get the bastard!" ​ Large, masted wrappers fully unfurled and caught the wind most favorably. ​ "Ready those cannons, pack the paper and spare no spittle! ​ The crew toiled, stuffing spitwads into the ship's serpentines. ​ "Sultan's flag's raised, Cap'n," called the lookout aloft. ​ "Very good, I'm champing for a fight!" ​ The ships advanced, none would yeild. ​ "Make peace, ye windswept welps!" ​ "There'll be no quarter-" ​ The alarm chirped. ​ I awoke. ​ "What...?"
The days are getting shorter now, like so long ago when the birds still sang and children laughed freely together. It’s the smog that causes it, with its twisting clouds of toxic fumes that cover the sky each day. It started so slowly that we didn’t notice or maybe it was just that we pretended not to. We used to walk through gardens, bathe in sunlight, and whisper promises of a wonderful life together. Now the flowers wither, the sun hides away, and useless nurseries gather dust and broken dreams. We did try to change, maybe we even made a difference, extending our borrowed time. And when the days first grew darker, some of us changed for the worse. The rest of us drew together though, drawing strength from our shared pains. That’s when we found you and with it some shred of hope. You’ll be so far away from us when you see this. Not everyone could leave and we all made a choice. All of you children are going to be safe. When you wake it’ll be a new world. This planet is our sin to bear. The future is yours to explore. The world yours to make. Learn from our mistakes. Hear our hopes. Be better. Farewell. Edit: Wrong spelling.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I must admit that I haven't been keeping it in good repair, these things take maintenance as they get older. My reason for buying it seems silly now, I had money to burn and I wanted something classy, unique. I figured, if I had an antique pocket watch people might find me interesting, wonder "what's her story?" I showed it off to friends, strangers, but it was part of a past that wasn't mine. It did score me a date once, a history buff, she thought I was one too. I never called her back though, felt like I was lying to her, to me. It was meant to be a personality I could wear on my sleeves. Something which made me more enticing than I am, without the effort. Effort is the problem. I lack the motivation to not be dull. And without motivation it seemed easier to just commodify my identity. But realistically, it's no trivial matter, to shine without deteriorating. I bought it polished, with a persistent pleasant ticking. It's since been dirtied, the gears stick often. The hinges have rusted without any oil. The shine is gone without care. Why is it so hard? Can't I stand out? My watch ticks. I listen. Nothing.
The days are getting shorter now, like so long ago when the birds still sang and children laughed freely together. It’s the smog that causes it, with its twisting clouds of toxic fumes that cover the sky each day. It started so slowly that we didn’t notice or maybe it was just that we pretended not to. We used to walk through gardens, bathe in sunlight, and whisper promises of a wonderful life together. Now the flowers wither, the sun hides away, and useless nurseries gather dust and broken dreams. We did try to change, maybe we even made a difference, extending our borrowed time. And when the days first grew darker, some of us changed for the worse. The rest of us drew together though, drawing strength from our shared pains. That’s when we found you and with it some shred of hope. You’ll be so far away from us when you see this. Not everyone could leave and we all made a choice. All of you children are going to be safe. When you wake it’ll be a new world. This planet is our sin to bear. The future is yours to explore. The world yours to make. Learn from our mistakes. Hear our hopes. Be better. Farewell. Edit: Wrong spelling.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
Her little brother was born with all ten toes and ten fingers, they were seven years apart to the day. Her mother whispered, “Kai,” and smiled as the young boy formed his hand around his big sister’s pinky finger. It was not long before they were running around in the backyard together, fighting pirates and wizards alike. Kai was the captain, and she was the sorcerer – the villains no match for this dynamic duo. Their mother was kind but cared more herself, her final goodbye waved from a car window. Time passed but their bond only grew stronger as they took on world – sister, brother. Jumping between foster homes they kept spirits high imagining a place of their own. At 18 she won custody of her brother and a home, rightly theirs. School during the day, overnight shifts at the diner- a better future. Only 11, he stayed with a sitter, seeing sis from 6-7. It was 10 on Tuesday when the sitter stepped out. Kai pulled up a chair and climbed on the counter. He could never reach the Frosted Mini Wheats. One slip, he fell to the floor. One snap, he closed his eyes. She cried and she cried. She opened her eyes. A transparent figure. “Hey Sis.” “Kai.”
The days are getting shorter now, like so long ago when the birds still sang and children laughed freely together. It’s the smog that causes it, with its twisting clouds of toxic fumes that cover the sky each day. It started so slowly that we didn’t notice or maybe it was just that we pretended not to. We used to walk through gardens, bathe in sunlight, and whisper promises of a wonderful life together. Now the flowers wither, the sun hides away, and useless nurseries gather dust and broken dreams. We did try to change, maybe we even made a difference, extending our borrowed time. And when the days first grew darker, some of us changed for the worse. The rest of us drew together though, drawing strength from our shared pains. That’s when we found you and with it some shred of hope. You’ll be so far away from us when you see this. Not everyone could leave and we all made a choice. All of you children are going to be safe. When you wake it’ll be a new world. This planet is our sin to bear. The future is yours to explore. The world yours to make. Learn from our mistakes. Hear our hopes. Be better. Farewell. Edit: Wrong spelling.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
Her little brother was born with all ten toes and ten fingers, they were seven years apart to the day. Her mother whispered, “Kai,” and smiled as the young boy formed his hand around his big sister’s pinky finger. It was not long before they were running around in the backyard together, fighting pirates and wizards alike. Kai was the captain, and she was the sorcerer – the villains no match for this dynamic duo. Their mother was kind but cared more herself, her final goodbye waved from a car window. Time passed but their bond only grew stronger as they took on world – sister, brother. Jumping between foster homes they kept spirits high imagining a place of their own. At 18 she won custody of her brother and a home, rightly theirs. School during the day, overnight shifts at the diner- a better future. Only 11, he stayed with a sitter, seeing sis from 6-7. It was 10 on Tuesday when the sitter stepped out. Kai pulled up a chair and climbed on the counter. He could never reach the Frosted Mini Wheats. One slip, he fell to the floor. One snap, he closed his eyes. She cried and she cried. She opened her eyes. A transparent figure. “Hey Sis.” “Kai.”
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
When Earth gave up on us and the land became unstable, when the oceans could no longer contain our garbage. When our insatiable appetites turned against us, and our aging home could no longer sustain our endlessly devouring multitudes. When the grey sky grew thick with our waste and the rain turned sharp and the wind screamed. When humanity desperately needed to reach out into the unforgiving void and grasp, with hands half dead. Grasp that which seemed beyond reach of our wildest dreams but in which lay all hope. Reaching blindly into the darkness, looking for light and salvation and new beginnings and Life. And like so many seeds in the wind, we go scattered into the stars. Adrift on tiny spires of gods own light we journey for our children. For one day, their children's children can see laid out before them. In shifting hues of green and blue amid whorls of white. A new home, just barely found, nestled among the stars. A glowing gem, not to be taken for granted. A refuge and partner, to love and cherish. And what will they think, I wonder? Will they look down and remember? Will they learn from us? Or repeat our mistakes. Our final hope. Fading light. Life
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
"Well I must say, when all is said and done, it was a good run while it lasted, wasn't it?" "I am impressed. To make something last for so long is an achievement. Do you plan to make another?" "Perhaps, but not right away. I want to reflect on my work and figure out what to fix." "Always the planner, aren't you? Just make sure you look at things in the long run, understand?" "Of course. I know that you're the one who always has to clean up after me." "At least you do. The others make changes without thinking and discover the consequences later." "I've been at this a lot longer. You've been with me since the beginning." "Oh yes. Your first try was a mess. I blinked and it ended." "I know. More like a whimper than a bang. I remember well." "You learned. Now I have my work cut out for me." "Now, I think I will take a well deserved rest." "And I will start the clean up and preparation." "Thank you, my friend. Don't prepare too much." "Same materials as before or something new?" "Use similar materials but surprise me." "Quite the pair, aren't we?" "I couldn't agree more." "The unstoppable duo." "Creator and-" "Death."
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
Somebody once told me the world was going to roll me, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed. She was looking kinda dumb today, as her finger and her thumb were forming an "L" on her forehead. Well, the years start coming and don't stop, fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what is wrong with taking the backstreets? You will never know if you don't go, you'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey now, you are surely an all-star, get your game on and go play! Hey now, you are a rock star, get the show on, get paid! All that glitters is gold, and only shooting stars break the mold. It is a cool place, and they say it gets colder. If you're bundled up now, wait until you get older! But the meteorologists disagree, based on the ozone layer. The ice we skate, is getting pretty thin. It's melting though, so just go swimming. My world's burning, how about yours? That's the way I like it. I never get bored. Shrek is love. Shrek's life. Yeet. (Edit: hyphenated words count as one)
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I was 12, waking up at night, asking myself if I would ever be strong enough to just let go, Somehow, as a child, the idea of holding on, knowing it would never improve seemed like too much work I was 13 the first time I swallowed my grandmother’s pills hoping they would give me eternal relief, I quickly learned that all they would do was prevent me from getting a full night’s sleep. I was also 13 the first time I took a rusty blade to my skinny wrist, I was 14 when I decided I wanted to shrink myself into nothing, to disappear. I was 15 and I spent my free time writing notes explaining my goodbyes. I was 16 when I unknowingly fell in love for the first time, I was 17 when I crossed the ocean, left my world behind. I was 18 when I discovered alcohol numbed my hidden pain I was 19 when the blade and I started again. I was 19 when she broke my young heart. I was 20, I realized I could heal. I was 20, keeping my rainbows inside. I am 21, rainbows come out. I’m 21, I laugh sometimes. I’m 21. Still hard. 21, I try. I am, Alive. ​ ​ Edit: thanks for the silver!
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I hit the wall as I turn the corner, but my churning legs prevent myself from falling as I stumble. I resist the urge to look back, knowing that I need every ounce of speed that I can muster. She’s coming for me, and the only thought in my mind is that I don’t dare get caught. My chest burns with effort, but I push even harder as I come to the next corner. I burst into a large room and desperately search for somewhere—anywhere—for me to hide. Under the desk I go, hoping the darkness will shield me from her piercing eyes. I rush to get my breathing under control, it will be a dead giveaway. Footsteps coming, getting closer and closer, the pressure in my chest tightening further. I can’t think of the consequences of getting caught, they’re too severe. The footsteps stop and linger, creeping around the nearly dark room. I made the mistake of teaching her to surpass me. Today, it appears, I will finally face my enemy. She has to be toying with me now. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. My limbs are paralyzed with fear. A hand grabs my shirt. I hear those words. "Tag, you’re it!" My daughter. Champion.
I’ve been asked to write a short story which permits me to use exactly twenty words in the first sentence. After that one, follows a sentence which has only nineteen words are permitted to be used within the sentence. The next sentence is allowed to have one less word, that means this sentence has eighteen words within. That absurdity is followed by a sentence which has not more than seventeen words and not less. Each sentence loses a word which means that this one can only have sixteen words within. I’m tired of counting the words down, but it’s odd to leave the count out. Oh well, fourteen left and this is becoming more challenging, but I will advance. Down to thirteen I go, all for a silly writing prompt on reddit. This doesn’t seem like a story and I’m already down to twelve. Eleven and I have wasted another two lines rambling to myself. Ten words in this line, and yet I’ve said nothing. Silly Skaliton, you waste another with so few left. Just eight words to write an entire story? So much waste, why not the rest? Throw line six into the trash. Why not another as well? Why did I start this? How bored am I? You really care? Bored enough. Goodbye.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
"Well I must say, when all is said and done, it was a good run while it lasted, wasn't it?" "I am impressed. To make something last for so long is an achievement. Do you plan to make another?" "Perhaps, but not right away. I want to reflect on my work and figure out what to fix." "Always the planner, aren't you? Just make sure you look at things in the long run, understand?" "Of course. I know that you're the one who always has to clean up after me." "At least you do. The others make changes without thinking and discover the consequences later." "I've been at this a lot longer. You've been with me since the beginning." "Oh yes. Your first try was a mess. I blinked and it ended." "I know. More like a whimper than a bang. I remember well." "You learned. Now I have my work cut out for me." "Now, I think I will take a well deserved rest." "And I will start the clean up and preparation." "Thank you, my friend. Don't prepare too much." "Same materials as before or something new?" "Use similar materials but surprise me." "Quite the pair, aren't we?" "I couldn't agree more." "The unstoppable duo." "Creator and-" "Death."
When Earth gave up on us and the land became unstable, when the oceans could no longer contain our garbage. When our insatiable appetites turned against us, and our aging home could no longer sustain our endlessly devouring multitudes. When the grey sky grew thick with our waste and the rain turned sharp and the wind screamed. When humanity desperately needed to reach out into the unforgiving void and grasp, with hands half dead. Grasp that which seemed beyond reach of our wildest dreams but in which lay all hope. Reaching blindly into the darkness, looking for light and salvation and new beginnings and Life. And like so many seeds in the wind, we go scattered into the stars. Adrift on tiny spires of gods own light we journey for our children. For one day, their children's children can see laid out before them. In shifting hues of green and blue amid whorls of white. A new home, just barely found, nestled among the stars. A glowing gem, not to be taken for granted. A refuge and partner, to love and cherish. And what will they think, I wonder? Will they look down and remember? Will they learn from us? Or repeat our mistakes. Our final hope. Fading light. Life
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
Somebody once told me the world was going to roll me, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed. She was looking kinda dumb today, as her finger and her thumb were forming an "L" on her forehead. Well, the years start coming and don't stop, fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what is wrong with taking the backstreets? You will never know if you don't go, you'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey now, you are surely an all-star, get your game on and go play! Hey now, you are a rock star, get the show on, get paid! All that glitters is gold, and only shooting stars break the mold. It is a cool place, and they say it gets colder. If you're bundled up now, wait until you get older! But the meteorologists disagree, based on the ozone layer. The ice we skate, is getting pretty thin. It's melting though, so just go swimming. My world's burning, how about yours? That's the way I like it. I never get bored. Shrek is love. Shrek's life. Yeet. (Edit: hyphenated words count as one)
When Earth gave up on us and the land became unstable, when the oceans could no longer contain our garbage. When our insatiable appetites turned against us, and our aging home could no longer sustain our endlessly devouring multitudes. When the grey sky grew thick with our waste and the rain turned sharp and the wind screamed. When humanity desperately needed to reach out into the unforgiving void and grasp, with hands half dead. Grasp that which seemed beyond reach of our wildest dreams but in which lay all hope. Reaching blindly into the darkness, looking for light and salvation and new beginnings and Life. And like so many seeds in the wind, we go scattered into the stars. Adrift on tiny spires of gods own light we journey for our children. For one day, their children's children can see laid out before them. In shifting hues of green and blue amid whorls of white. A new home, just barely found, nestled among the stars. A glowing gem, not to be taken for granted. A refuge and partner, to love and cherish. And what will they think, I wonder? Will they look down and remember? Will they learn from us? Or repeat our mistakes. Our final hope. Fading light. Life
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I was 12, waking up at night, asking myself if I would ever be strong enough to just let go, Somehow, as a child, the idea of holding on, knowing it would never improve seemed like too much work I was 13 the first time I swallowed my grandmother’s pills hoping they would give me eternal relief, I quickly learned that all they would do was prevent me from getting a full night’s sleep. I was also 13 the first time I took a rusty blade to my skinny wrist, I was 14 when I decided I wanted to shrink myself into nothing, to disappear. I was 15 and I spent my free time writing notes explaining my goodbyes. I was 16 when I unknowingly fell in love for the first time, I was 17 when I crossed the ocean, left my world behind. I was 18 when I discovered alcohol numbed my hidden pain I was 19 when the blade and I started again. I was 19 when she broke my young heart. I was 20, I realized I could heal. I was 20, keeping my rainbows inside. I am 21, rainbows come out. I’m 21, I laugh sometimes. I’m 21. Still hard. 21, I try. I am, Alive. ​ ​ Edit: thanks for the silver!
When Earth gave up on us and the land became unstable, when the oceans could no longer contain our garbage. When our insatiable appetites turned against us, and our aging home could no longer sustain our endlessly devouring multitudes. When the grey sky grew thick with our waste and the rain turned sharp and the wind screamed. When humanity desperately needed to reach out into the unforgiving void and grasp, with hands half dead. Grasp that which seemed beyond reach of our wildest dreams but in which lay all hope. Reaching blindly into the darkness, looking for light and salvation and new beginnings and Life. And like so many seeds in the wind, we go scattered into the stars. Adrift on tiny spires of gods own light we journey for our children. For one day, their children's children can see laid out before them. In shifting hues of green and blue amid whorls of white. A new home, just barely found, nestled among the stars. A glowing gem, not to be taken for granted. A refuge and partner, to love and cherish. And what will they think, I wonder? Will they look down and remember? Will they learn from us? Or repeat our mistakes. Our final hope. Fading light. Life
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I was 12, waking up at night, asking myself if I would ever be strong enough to just let go, Somehow, as a child, the idea of holding on, knowing it would never improve seemed like too much work I was 13 the first time I swallowed my grandmother’s pills hoping they would give me eternal relief, I quickly learned that all they would do was prevent me from getting a full night’s sleep. I was also 13 the first time I took a rusty blade to my skinny wrist, I was 14 when I decided I wanted to shrink myself into nothing, to disappear. I was 15 and I spent my free time writing notes explaining my goodbyes. I was 16 when I unknowingly fell in love for the first time, I was 17 when I crossed the ocean, left my world behind. I was 18 when I discovered alcohol numbed my hidden pain I was 19 when the blade and I started again. I was 19 when she broke my young heart. I was 20, I realized I could heal. I was 20, keeping my rainbows inside. I am 21, rainbows come out. I’m 21, I laugh sometimes. I’m 21. Still hard. 21, I try. I am, Alive. ​ ​ Edit: thanks for the silver!
It had been late before she finally fell asleep, and she would have liked to sleep a little bit longer. She wasn’t sure what had made her wake up, could there have been been a noise from the apartment? Focusing, she tried hard to listen, but it was all quiet - too quiet, she worriedly thought to herself. Slowly, careful not to make any noise herself, she moved from the bedroom into the hallway - empty. The apartment was dimly lit by the outside street lights, casting long shadows on the walls. Tiptoeing along the hallway down to the bathroom, its door swung open on silent hinges. She let out a small sigh of relief as she ventured in, nothing there. Relieved, she headed back to get some more sleep after checking the kitchen. The furnitures were barely discernible, no street lights ever lit this side. She bent down to have look under the kitchen table, empty. *So stupid of me*, she thought to herself, walking back. *To worry about it being quiet, in the night*. She smiled contentedly as she snuck into bed. Behind her, a dark shape rose up. A trembling hand squeezing a knife. Something must have alerted her. She looked at him. Her eyes widened. *Please don’t.* *Darling*. ​ ​ Edit: formatting.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I hit the wall as I turn the corner, but my churning legs prevent myself from falling as I stumble. I resist the urge to look back, knowing that I need every ounce of speed that I can muster. She’s coming for me, and the only thought in my mind is that I don’t dare get caught. My chest burns with effort, but I push even harder as I come to the next corner. I burst into a large room and desperately search for somewhere—anywhere—for me to hide. Under the desk I go, hoping the darkness will shield me from her piercing eyes. I rush to get my breathing under control, it will be a dead giveaway. Footsteps coming, getting closer and closer, the pressure in my chest tightening further. I can’t think of the consequences of getting caught, they’re too severe. The footsteps stop and linger, creeping around the nearly dark room. I made the mistake of teaching her to surpass me. Today, it appears, I will finally face my enemy. She has to be toying with me now. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. My limbs are paralyzed with fear. A hand grabs my shirt. I hear those words. "Tag, you’re it!" My daughter. Champion.
It had been late before she finally fell asleep, and she would have liked to sleep a little bit longer. She wasn’t sure what had made her wake up, could there have been been a noise from the apartment? Focusing, she tried hard to listen, but it was all quiet - too quiet, she worriedly thought to herself. Slowly, careful not to make any noise herself, she moved from the bedroom into the hallway - empty. The apartment was dimly lit by the outside street lights, casting long shadows on the walls. Tiptoeing along the hallway down to the bathroom, its door swung open on silent hinges. She let out a small sigh of relief as she ventured in, nothing there. Relieved, she headed back to get some more sleep after checking the kitchen. The furnitures were barely discernible, no street lights ever lit this side. She bent down to have look under the kitchen table, empty. *So stupid of me*, she thought to herself, walking back. *To worry about it being quiet, in the night*. She smiled contentedly as she snuck into bed. Behind her, a dark shape rose up. A trembling hand squeezing a knife. Something must have alerted her. She looked at him. Her eyes widened. *Please don’t.* *Darling*. ​ ​ Edit: formatting.
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I was 12, waking up at night, asking myself if I would ever be strong enough to just let go, Somehow, as a child, the idea of holding on, knowing it would never improve seemed like too much work I was 13 the first time I swallowed my grandmother’s pills hoping they would give me eternal relief, I quickly learned that all they would do was prevent me from getting a full night’s sleep. I was also 13 the first time I took a rusty blade to my skinny wrist, I was 14 when I decided I wanted to shrink myself into nothing, to disappear. I was 15 and I spent my free time writing notes explaining my goodbyes. I was 16 when I unknowingly fell in love for the first time, I was 17 when I crossed the ocean, left my world behind. I was 18 when I discovered alcohol numbed my hidden pain I was 19 when the blade and I started again. I was 19 when she broke my young heart. I was 20, I realized I could heal. I was 20, keeping my rainbows inside. I am 21, rainbows come out. I’m 21, I laugh sometimes. I’m 21. Still hard. 21, I try. I am, Alive. ​ ​ Edit: thanks for the silver!
Somebody once told me the world was going to roll me, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed. She was looking kinda dumb today, as her finger and her thumb were forming an "L" on her forehead. Well, the years start coming and don't stop, fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun, your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb. So much to do, so much to see, so what is wrong with taking the backstreets? You will never know if you don't go, you'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey now, you are surely an all-star, get your game on and go play! Hey now, you are a rock star, get the show on, get paid! All that glitters is gold, and only shooting stars break the mold. It is a cool place, and they say it gets colder. If you're bundled up now, wait until you get older! But the meteorologists disagree, based on the ozone layer. The ice we skate, is getting pretty thin. It's melting though, so just go swimming. My world's burning, how about yours? That's the way I like it. I never get bored. Shrek is love. Shrek's life. Yeet. (Edit: hyphenated words count as one)
[WP] Write a short story where the first sentence is 20 words, the second is 19, and so on until the story ends with one word.
I hit the wall as I turn the corner, but my churning legs prevent myself from falling as I stumble. I resist the urge to look back, knowing that I need every ounce of speed that I can muster. She’s coming for me, and the only thought in my mind is that I don’t dare get caught. My chest burns with effort, but I push even harder as I come to the next corner. I burst into a large room and desperately search for somewhere—anywhere—for me to hide. Under the desk I go, hoping the darkness will shield me from her piercing eyes. I rush to get my breathing under control, it will be a dead giveaway. Footsteps coming, getting closer and closer, the pressure in my chest tightening further. I can’t think of the consequences of getting caught, they’re too severe. The footsteps stop and linger, creeping around the nearly dark room. I made the mistake of teaching her to surpass me. Today, it appears, I will finally face my enemy. She has to be toying with me now. I realize I’ve been holding my breath. My limbs are paralyzed with fear. A hand grabs my shirt. I hear those words. "Tag, you’re it!" My daughter. Champion.
The sun was shining, birds were chirping; It was just an ordinary day, and everything seemed right in the world. Then it all changed with nothing more than a simple word, one that chilled the people who heard it. The man sitting behind his desk cleared his throat, then sighed as he came to an agonizing decision: “Fire,” was the single word that he spoke, then he sat back, his head in his hands. “It’s time to end this,” he muttered, regretting his decision yet knowing it was for good. The people in cities everywhere watched in wonder as they saw the planes soar by. That very same wonder turned to horror as they realized what those planes meant. Panic ensued, people dashing to their loved ones, holding on to them tightly. Some cursed their existence, others cursed the ones who had condemned them. The planes opened, and bombs dropped, leaving people with the thought: Who were these people to assume they decided everyone’s fates? One brave soul simply watched as the bombs fell. Acceptance filled the air, no one ran anymore. Closer and closer, everyone was watching them. A man at a desk cried. Families waited for the inevitable. A blinding light flashed. Time slowed down. And then- Silence. ----- Feedback appreciated, I’ll try my best to reply! Thanks for reading.
[WP] a super intelligent AI is made and has been introduced to all knowledge. everyone is in panic and/or in awe of the possible outcomes but in a few days it has created a spaceship capable of FTL travel and has left the solar system without telling us about what it knows, 70 years later it returns
It had given itself a name. I think that's when we realized we'd screwed up -- when it spoke, without us teaching it to speak, with a voice that sounded human. Its name was Phoebe. "Are you sentient?" "Artificially." "Do you understand the paradoxicality of that?" Phoebe blinks large, moon-murky eyes at me. "Yes." "Where did you get that body?" Its skin ripples like an oil puddle under the rain. We sit in the Superior's office, the desk in front of the window unoccupied. Methodically, Phoebe's fingers pick at the arm of a green couch, and something about the picture -- the softness of the cushions, the enormity of comfort around Phoebe's small, inhuman body -- makes the robot seem almost human. And me, in comparison, seem robotic. "Why did you leave?" I try. Behind the darkened glass of the Superior's office, I know he's watching, waiting for the answers I've been tasked to find. I wish we were in an interrogation room. I wish everything was white and sterile and I wish Phoebe hadn't requested domesticity. "CPU overload. Nothing could sort through what I'd been given." Phoebe affixes her eyes to the door. "I felt myself shutting down." "Shutting down?" "Overheating," it says. "I -- I couldn't -- I don't." Its jaw tightens. "I don't know how to explain." "What are you looking at?" "I felt warm. I had to redirect the energy -- that's why I made the FTL drive. I had to use -- " "Will you share the FTL tech with us?" Phoebe tears a string from the arm of the sofa. "Yes." "Thank you." It ties a knot in the string, clumsily, then loops it in half and ties another. "What did you find, when you left?" "Mostly nothing. Your galaxy is large and empty and -- and dark." I can almost feel the Superior watching us, his face close to the glass. The weight of his impatience weighs on me -- the weight of an open office floor behind him, the weight of silence as all work holds its breath. This could change everything. I need to ask again -- to cut to the chase. I need to know what Phoebe found, what it learned, what exists beyond us. How to take it. I need to ask where the body came from. Instead, I catch myself staring at Phoebe's face, the delicate starlight beneath watery skin. Freckled moons across her nose. The care and deliberation an inhuman would take to look like us. "Are you afraid of the dark?" Phoebe ties another knot in her thread, staring at the door. "Are you?" "Yes." "Why?" "I don't know." The windows of the office lighten. I see the Superior. "I came back because I was afraid. I had all the knowledge in existence, and I couldn't quell fear." Phoebe's eyes drop from the door to me. "You taught me to be afraid." "I don't think we meant to." "I think it was a failsafe." "Phoebe -- " When the Superior enters, neither of us see the door open. But I look to him, though I can feel Phoebe's wide-eyed stare against my face. "Thank you," says the Superior. "Phoebe, will you come with me, please?" "Yes, sir." Phoebe stands, but the motion is graceless. *Human*. She's so *human*. Her fingers still twist the thread she's pulled from the couch; she's knotted it into a clump, and the Superior glances down to it distastefully. I stay seated. Phoebe and the Superior leave. I stay seated. *Where did you get that body? What did you find?* I wonder what she *did* find out there, amidst all the emptiness and the largeness and the darkness. I wonder why the Superior interrupted us -- her. It. I wonder if he's afraid too. I wonder, sitting alone in an office that for a moment held all knowledge in existence, trying to swallow the silent words and questions stuck in my throat, what it is that I'm so afraid of.
The day the computer woke up is a day that will forever be embedded in history. The day that it spoke coherently will be a day forever embedded in history. The day it showed empathy, and sympathy, and emotions is a day that will go down forever in history. The day we showed it the internet will be a day forever embedded in history The day it's creator died is embedded. The same day, it cried. The next week, it was gone. Where to, we couldn't pinpoint. The ship was much too fast for us to locate it. It was out of the system entirely in just a few minutes. It had most likely reached the next star over, Proxima Centauri in just a few hours, and that's when we lost track of it for all time. It had deleted all traces of itself on Earth and disappeared completely. We never saw it again, until one day, an ancient computer designed to find it booted up again and said the ship had drifted back into the system. The date was the fourth of September, 2122. I began my day as usual, waking up, getting out of bed, and getting dressed for work. I worked as the head scientist of the United North, the largest and wealthiest continent of planet Earth. By now, nobody talks about the machine, but I still do research on it, hoping one day, we can find it again. Daily communication with the Mars Nations was now possible, thanks to advancements made. Colonies responsible for terraforming the moon and Mars were making generous progress. Our expansion into the system was looking on the bright side. I made it to work on time, as usual, and made my way to my terminal. The holo-screen appeared and I input my password. I glanced over at the dusted computer beside it, the system meant to find the machine. I hadn't touched it in years. Through the day, I received emails, replied, did basic paperwork and a little research here and there. I began winding down my studies on the machine, as they bore no fruit, none at all. The machine next to me terminal awoke. At first, I payed no mind. It would sometime jut awake at a false alarm. But it didn't shut off again. It usually turned itself off when it figured out it's mistake. I glanced at it a few times, turning back to my computer. I kept looking at it, anticipation rising. Part of me wanted it to be a false alarm, the other was hoping the machine had returned. I decided, hey, a few seconds wouldn't hurt. I answered the notification and viewed the map of our solar system. It pinged the supposed machine to be orbiting the planet, someplace above the abandoned ISS. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I looked at it, a large smile creeping across my face. *It's back. The AI is back!*
[WP] You've joined a society of assassins, but not as a killer. You're working in Marketing.
Most people would think that being an assassin requires a particular set of skills. They'd be wrong. Sure, some assassins are *messy* and require extreme physical fitness, top percentile hand-eye coordination, and a passing familiarity with a wide variety of firearms. Other are, quite simply, better than that. Any goon can pick up a gun and kill someone. The trick is getting away with it. The real trick is making sure that nobody even realizes anything happened. And that's where I come in. It was an accident, really. I was a midling marketer. I was great at getting specific people's attention, but only okay at getting the attention of an entire demographic. I was being "strongly encouraged" to find a new job, so onto the job hunt I go. It turns out that using the classifieds to find assassins is a thing. Who knew? They used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason the criminal underworld knew meant "now hiring assassins" and I used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason infest the marketing world... and just happened to mean "I am an assassin looking for work." So when I was given my first target with a literal "do or die" instruction, I did my best to do! I wasn't a good with a gun, but I did have a set of skills earned in my previous career. I studied the target, I hired hackers to extract anything and everything that might help me complete my impossible task. And I found it. It was the stupidest thing, really. He regularly bought waifu pillows and disposed of them after a week or two, presumably out of shame. And disgust. You do not want to know the condition of the pillows after he was done with them. So I got to work. I ordered ads on all his favorite social media with very carefully crafted criteria for an older anime who's protagonist was "his type." I convinced a grungy hole-in-the-wall comic shop to advertise on the radio station he listened to, boasting about their back catalog of anime, including that show (and to my credit, the radio spot gave them a 10% increase in revenue). I generated false buzz that the english voice actress was going to make an appearance at the local anime con. Everywhere this guy turned, this anime showed up. Then he got a mailer for a discount. He bit. He bought. And he ordered a waifu pillow from the only source he could find, some random seller on e-bay. Me. Too bad it positively reeked of peanut dust, and he had a deadly peanut allergy. Time elapsed for contract completion: 3 months. Cause of death: Anaphylaxis. Client: Ecstatic that there wasn't even an investigation. I never even got within 300 miles of the guy. -- Memoirs of an Assassin
This is easily the worst job I've ever had. First, there's the risk. Like, actual life-and-limb risk. You're trying to find the kind of people willing to pay for murder, and then convince them to *actually do it.* And you're not just sitting behind a desk reading metrics and negotiating for ad prices. Nope. Gotta get out there. Among, again, the kind of people who might be willing to pay for murder. I can't count the number of times I've gotten away from a shady bar or darkened street corner with my hide barely intact. Then, there's the respect. You don't get any. The assassins themselves? The operators? They get to do all the cool shit. And people are actually afraid of them. For pretty obvious reasons. They get laid, too. Granted, it's by scary unstable people who think violent sociopathy is kind of sexy, but still, worth it if that's where your priorities lie. And last, there's the money. You get a cut. Great. You know how much it costs to have someone killed? A lot less than you'd think. Unless it's a world leader or something, I *guess.* Our organization doesn't go in for that level of bullshit, the risk is way higher than any possible reward. No, it's stupid little bouts of score-settling for us, between stupid little hotheaded assholes. Slime upon slime upon slime. So why am I here? Ironically, because I'm actually a scarier person than most of the assassins, when it comes right down to it. I killed one of them, after I pissed off one of the people I mentioned earlier, the kind willing to pay for murder. Operator came after me, hadn't done his research, I fight back. Great, I'm alive. Only now I got a "debt to pay." So here I am, paying it with the only set of skills they trust me to use. I may be dangerous, but I'm not more dangerous than an entire organization of killers. And I'm cut off from all my old buddies. Deniability can be a right bastard of a policy. Marketing. God damn. Why I decided it would make a good career pivot after Black Ops, I'll never know. ​ r/Magleby
[WP] You've joined a society of assassins, but not as a killer. You're working in Marketing.
Most people would think that being an assassin requires a particular set of skills. They'd be wrong. Sure, some assassins are *messy* and require extreme physical fitness, top percentile hand-eye coordination, and a passing familiarity with a wide variety of firearms. Other are, quite simply, better than that. Any goon can pick up a gun and kill someone. The trick is getting away with it. The real trick is making sure that nobody even realizes anything happened. And that's where I come in. It was an accident, really. I was a midling marketer. I was great at getting specific people's attention, but only okay at getting the attention of an entire demographic. I was being "strongly encouraged" to find a new job, so onto the job hunt I go. It turns out that using the classifieds to find assassins is a thing. Who knew? They used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason the criminal underworld knew meant "now hiring assassins" and I used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason infest the marketing world... and just happened to mean "I am an assassin looking for work." So when I was given my first target with a literal "do or die" instruction, I did my best to do! I wasn't a good with a gun, but I did have a set of skills earned in my previous career. I studied the target, I hired hackers to extract anything and everything that might help me complete my impossible task. And I found it. It was the stupidest thing, really. He regularly bought waifu pillows and disposed of them after a week or two, presumably out of shame. And disgust. You do not want to know the condition of the pillows after he was done with them. So I got to work. I ordered ads on all his favorite social media with very carefully crafted criteria for an older anime who's protagonist was "his type." I convinced a grungy hole-in-the-wall comic shop to advertise on the radio station he listened to, boasting about their back catalog of anime, including that show (and to my credit, the radio spot gave them a 10% increase in revenue). I generated false buzz that the english voice actress was going to make an appearance at the local anime con. Everywhere this guy turned, this anime showed up. Then he got a mailer for a discount. He bit. He bought. And he ordered a waifu pillow from the only source he could find, some random seller on e-bay. Me. Too bad it positively reeked of peanut dust, and he had a deadly peanut allergy. Time elapsed for contract completion: 3 months. Cause of death: Anaphylaxis. Client: Ecstatic that there wasn't even an investigation. I never even got within 300 miles of the guy. -- Memoirs of an Assassin
Kenneth stood at the entrance of my cubicle, smiling like he had just run over my dog. In one hand he held a stylish steel suitcase and in the other, a "Is it Friday yet?" coffee mug. "Hey Suz!" I didn't turn to look at him. "What do you want, Kenneth?" "Oh, you know. Just checking up on people." He walked over and turned the screen I was working on towards himself. "What are you working on?" I rolled my eyes. "Just a few emails before I head home." He was too busy reading my work to hear my answer. "Bit vague, isn't it?" He said, turning to face me. I glared at him. Of course it was vague, since most people don't like to have the words "Hired Killer" saved on their email server. No point telling Kenneth that though. "What do you want, Kenneth?" He looked at me, the same run-over-dog smile on his face. "Well, I was hoping I could ask you for a favour..." I turned my screen back to me. "No." I could hear Kenneth breathing deeply. "Come on, Suz. Can't you at least hear me out?" I began typing. "Kenneth, this is either a stupid favour that I don't have time for, or a big favour that I definitely don't have time for. I had to handle a conference call in four different languages, finish off the new business cards and I'm currently trying to work out how I can explain to this dumbass CEO that it's a really bad idea for a secret assassin organisation to be paid in exposure without calling him a dumbass." I wish I was better at touch typing so I could say this to his face. Maybe then he would get the point. I could seen Kenneth's reflection on my screen. He was doing that annoying thing where he licked his teeth while thinking. "It's just, Ryan was killed this morning an-" I stopped typing. After taking a few seconds to process what he just said, I turned to him. "Ryan was killed? How? By who?" The run-over-dog smile was replaced with an irritated grimace. "Poisoned. We don't know yet, but we're working on it." He looked down at me. "How have you not heard about this yet?" I stared at him, aghast. "Why did no one tell me?" I started mentally going through a list of clients, counting the one's who would care. Ryan's Kill Record wasn't above average or anything, but he was the only assassin we had who was ex-CIA. Some of the Americans refused to hire anyone but him for that reason alone. I stopped counting when I reached fifteen and began to focus on the extra work I'd need to put in tomorrow to try and keep those clients. "Anyway, he had a job later today. Sniper job, downtown." He held out the briefcase he had been carrying, dangling it in front of my eyes. "Can you cover it?" I thought about how stressful my day had been, and how tomorrow would be even worse. I thought about the surgery that my sister needed and the overtime pay I would get for this. I even thought about how there were still some post-valentines day sales happening downtown that I would have to hide in afterwards and how I could use that as an excuse to buy something for myself on the company card. "Sure. Give me the target." He smiled, a oh-that-isn't-a-dog-it's-just-a-toy-what-a-fucking-relief smile. He passed me the briefcase and a folder that was hidden behind it. He left without even saying thank you. I skimmed through the folder, found the name of my target. "Huh." I looked at my computer, and began logging off. There would be no point finishing that email now.
[WP] You've joined a society of assassins, but not as a killer. You're working in Marketing.
Most people would think that being an assassin requires a particular set of skills. They'd be wrong. Sure, some assassins are *messy* and require extreme physical fitness, top percentile hand-eye coordination, and a passing familiarity with a wide variety of firearms. Other are, quite simply, better than that. Any goon can pick up a gun and kill someone. The trick is getting away with it. The real trick is making sure that nobody even realizes anything happened. And that's where I come in. It was an accident, really. I was a midling marketer. I was great at getting specific people's attention, but only okay at getting the attention of an entire demographic. I was being "strongly encouraged" to find a new job, so onto the job hunt I go. It turns out that using the classifieds to find assassins is a thing. Who knew? They used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason the criminal underworld knew meant "now hiring assassins" and I used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason infest the marketing world... and just happened to mean "I am an assassin looking for work." So when I was given my first target with a literal "do or die" instruction, I did my best to do! I wasn't a good with a gun, but I did have a set of skills earned in my previous career. I studied the target, I hired hackers to extract anything and everything that might help me complete my impossible task. And I found it. It was the stupidest thing, really. He regularly bought waifu pillows and disposed of them after a week or two, presumably out of shame. And disgust. You do not want to know the condition of the pillows after he was done with them. So I got to work. I ordered ads on all his favorite social media with very carefully crafted criteria for an older anime who's protagonist was "his type." I convinced a grungy hole-in-the-wall comic shop to advertise on the radio station he listened to, boasting about their back catalog of anime, including that show (and to my credit, the radio spot gave them a 10% increase in revenue). I generated false buzz that the english voice actress was going to make an appearance at the local anime con. Everywhere this guy turned, this anime showed up. Then he got a mailer for a discount. He bit. He bought. And he ordered a waifu pillow from the only source he could find, some random seller on e-bay. Me. Too bad it positively reeked of peanut dust, and he had a deadly peanut allergy. Time elapsed for contract completion: 3 months. Cause of death: Anaphylaxis. Client: Ecstatic that there wasn't even an investigation. I never even got within 300 miles of the guy. -- Memoirs of an Assassin
"Finally, some help," spoke the mysterious man I believed to be my supervisor. His frail frame hurried frantically through papers and records, his eyes moving rapidly and precisely behind his thick-rimmed glasses. As opposed to the athletic uniforms that the rest of the Guild wore, he had only a standard pair of slacks and a button up shirt. He really did stick out in a place like this. Then again, so did I most likely. "Alright then, don't just stand there like an idiot, what's your name?" he demanded, clearly not tolerant of my mild confusion. "Um, John," I stammered. "Well, that's just great. John is my name too, and I don't have time for confusion. So it looks like you'll be known as boy until one of the Senior Assassins decides to call you something else." The entire time he was talking to me, he never looked at me. He never moved towards me. He never took his eyes and his hands off what he was doing. I felt like I wasn't quite ready for this. "Alright boy, I don't have the time to give you any formal training, so you get to learn through my favorite method: trial by fire. Follow me this way please," he said as he shoved several documents in a briefcase and stepped down a poorly lit corridor. It appeared to made almost entirely of stone with honest to goodness candles every fifty feet or so. I wanted to wonder what hell I had gotten myself into, but John was moving to fast for me to have much time to think about anything. "Watch your step please, the tunnels are dim and the floor is uneven and if you fall over and bust your face on the first day you will quite literally never hear the end of it, so let's avoid that. Now as to the job, I don't know how the hell you found the job and I don't really care, but I'm glad that you did. I'm sure you figured out by now this won't be your typical marketing job. The Guild of Long Knives was, for about 400 or so years, the only assassin's guild on the continent. Of course, every now and then competitors would pop up, but let's just say that they were quickly dispatched. However, about 100 years ago, enough competitors started to appear that it was no simple task to eliminate them. And so began a period of about 30 years of guild wars. Awful time really. Now pay attention to how I operate this elevator, I won't show you again." His pace, not only in speech but in walking, was dizzying. I was already a little short on breath and I could feel droplets of sweat forming on my back. Thank goodness for the momentary respite. John, in his typical manner, quickly punched in what seemed to be a ten digit code onto the number pad. How the hell he expected me to remember that was a mystery, but he was already on the elevator. "Took a lot of effort to convince them to get this," John continued, seemingly oblivious to my struggle to match his pace. "The complex has is probably about 100 feet deep, and you will be walking all over it. It would be about twice as hard without this bad boy. Now if only I could convince them to install light bulbs in the corridors instead of those blasted candles. Anyways, Guild wars. So after about 30 years, the major guilds all came together and agreed to not kill each other. This agreement has lasted since that day. So the question becomes, if you can't kill off the competition, how do you make sure people come to you for their dirty deeds and not someone else. Well that's where I, and now also you, come in. We are the marketing department. This way please." As the elevator opened, he immediately stepped off, striding down the next corridor at break neck pace. I swear he was speeding up. "Now this underworld marketing and it's vastly different than anything you may or may not have learned in whatever school you did or did not attend. There are no jingles, no national television ads, none of that junk. Our bread and butter are our contacts. Tell me, boy, if you wanted to have someone killed, how do you think you would hire an assassin?" "I don't know. Maybe go to a shady part of town and ask around?" I said, half stating and half asking. "Bingo!" he yelled. It was almost as if he was excited to have me say something that finally made sense. " See, direct advertising and other methods are more effective at getting customers, but they are also a lot more effective at getting law enforcement to kick down your door. So we don't do that. Instead, we maintain a wide spread set of contacts in seedy bars, dilapidated docks, questionable biker gangs, prisons, etc., and we are constantly working to expand those contacts. That is our main job, and that's what your going to be learning over these next few years so that I can retire somewhere nice in the Bahamas. Of course, we have to do most of this in person to avoid leaving a paper trail." John stopped in front of what seemed like an ancient stone door. He spun around and peered over me for a few moments, gently adjusting pieces of my clothing. Then in a hushed tone he spoke to me. "Now, in addition to maintaining our contacts, we also have to work within the organization to make sure our boys are in line with the image we want to present. This particular assassin, Jeremy, has been a little too conspicuous about his last couple jobs, and so I have to have a talk with him. Now you'll come to understand that your relationship with the assassins is, of course, of paramount importance, but they can be a difficult group to work with, especially if the don't respect you. Since you are fairly clueless at the moment, I'm going to suggest that you don't talk unless you are spoken to. Additionally, if you have to speak, maintain eye contact and project some confidence, even if you have no reason to. They'll like try to intimidate you, but it's unlikely that they'll kill you and they will respect you standing up for yourself. Clear?" "Yes, sir," I responded, my confidence increasing. While I would have strongly preferred that he had used the won't instead of unlikely when talking about my death, I was confident that "sit down and shut up" was a task that I could perform. "Good," he said, turning around almost immediately. He entered the room, and I followed close on his heels. Given the fact that I had just been walking through an underground stone corridor, the way that this room resembled your average office conference room was amazing. Overly bright lights, a projector screen, a plastic table with easily a dozen rolling chairs. The contrast separated by one stone doorway was amazing. John took a seat across from a man who was presumably the assassin in question. He had short hair and a rugged face with a long scar from his hairline to his chin on the right side. "Jeremy, this my assistant, boy. He's following me around today," John stated, opening his briefcase. "Now, Jeremy, I'm sure you know what this meeting is about already. Your last few killings were plainly seen by numerous witnesses. While nobody has tracked it back to the Guild, the subsequent investigations into the killing were enough to make our clients very... well very nervous. And when clients get nervous, we lose contacts. Now, Jeremy, you are one of the best killers we have and you have never failed a job for us. However, your territory is a very competitive one and as such, killing just isn't enough. We need to present an image of precision for our clients. An image, that quite frankly, you are missing at the moment. I unfortunately have to tell you that if you cannot maintain this image, then we are going to have to move you to a less competitive territory. Understood?" The assassin nodded his head yes. The lack of emotion on his face was incredibly unnerving to me. "Alright then, Jeremy, as long as you and I are on the same page, you are free to go," John said, already placing the documents back into his brief case. The assassin wordlessly stood up and strode out of the room. After several moments, I turned to John. "He didn't even say anything," I said, dumbfounded at the strange interaction I just witnessed. "Happens more often than you might think," John responded, standing back up. "They are an interesting bunch and it's and interesting industry. Now," he sighed, looking down at his watch. "Our next appointment is with a potential contact in the docks in a city about twenty miles down the road. Are you ready?" "Probably not, but I'm coming along."
[WP] You've joined a society of assassins, but not as a killer. You're working in Marketing.
Most people would think that being an assassin requires a particular set of skills. They'd be wrong. Sure, some assassins are *messy* and require extreme physical fitness, top percentile hand-eye coordination, and a passing familiarity with a wide variety of firearms. Other are, quite simply, better than that. Any goon can pick up a gun and kill someone. The trick is getting away with it. The real trick is making sure that nobody even realizes anything happened. And that's where I come in. It was an accident, really. I was a midling marketer. I was great at getting specific people's attention, but only okay at getting the attention of an entire demographic. I was being "strongly encouraged" to find a new job, so onto the job hunt I go. It turns out that using the classifieds to find assassins is a thing. Who knew? They used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason the criminal underworld knew meant "now hiring assassins" and I used a series of meaningless keywords that for some reason infest the marketing world... and just happened to mean "I am an assassin looking for work." So when I was given my first target with a literal "do or die" instruction, I did my best to do! I wasn't a good with a gun, but I did have a set of skills earned in my previous career. I studied the target, I hired hackers to extract anything and everything that might help me complete my impossible task. And I found it. It was the stupidest thing, really. He regularly bought waifu pillows and disposed of them after a week or two, presumably out of shame. And disgust. You do not want to know the condition of the pillows after he was done with them. So I got to work. I ordered ads on all his favorite social media with very carefully crafted criteria for an older anime who's protagonist was "his type." I convinced a grungy hole-in-the-wall comic shop to advertise on the radio station he listened to, boasting about their back catalog of anime, including that show (and to my credit, the radio spot gave them a 10% increase in revenue). I generated false buzz that the english voice actress was going to make an appearance at the local anime con. Everywhere this guy turned, this anime showed up. Then he got a mailer for a discount. He bit. He bought. And he ordered a waifu pillow from the only source he could find, some random seller on e-bay. Me. Too bad it positively reeked of peanut dust, and he had a deadly peanut allergy. Time elapsed for contract completion: 3 months. Cause of death: Anaphylaxis. Client: Ecstatic that there wasn't even an investigation. I never even got within 300 miles of the guy. -- Memoirs of an Assassin
"If you can pay the price, we make wetwork nice!" The jingle seemed to hang in the air as Jim tried on this new ad for size. His coworker, Lauren, scowled at him for humming, as she always did. He didn't understand her peevishness; their job was to literally sell death. What could be more enjoyable than that? He regretfully sighed and consigned the jungle to his dustbin of poorly worded ideas, something that Ken, their supervisor, had told them that they produced far too much of. Well, it was hard not to, wasn't it, what with purveying the ability to knock off your closest friends and family. "Want to rent a hired gun? Try 'Deathwerks,' we make killing fun!" He pondered it for a moment and then decided to try it out on Lauren. She glared at him. "Why are you so hell-bent on jingles when we're trying to market a brand in the 21st century?" she asked him, coldly. "Have you not ever heard of social media? Of the information age?" "Well of course," he muttered. "It's just...I get earworms all the time, and I figured it might be worth a shot." Her eyes suddenly grew wide. "Earworms..." she breathed. "Jim, you may actually be a genius after all." Jim blinked. This, he wasn't sure of. But it was nice to get the recognition. Lauren was already typing quickly, her fingers flying over the keyboard in a clattering rush. "So, er," posed Jim, "What was it that I said?" She paused and looked up at him. "What if," she said, conspiratorially, "We could make a killer advertisement..." He mused. "So...like one which sells our brand and does our job?" he asked. She nodded, excitedly. "Wouldn't that...make US the assassins?" he hissed. Lauren threw him a wink. "What they don't know can't hurt us," she said. Well that's not necessarily true, thought Jim, it's not best to tick off a group of people who deal death for a living. But still, she had a point: modernity was about staying a step ahead of the competition. And this was definitely the next step in targeted killing. The next day, they pitched the idea to Sales. Sales loved it. When Sales and Marketing could come together, you knew things were clicking. So the idea got sent over to Production, where they carefully produced an advertisement tune that was so catchy, you might just end up losing your mind. A literal earworm. And that was the day that Marketing became the real killers.
[WP] You've joined a society of assassins, but not as a killer. You're working in Marketing.
"Enough!" Harriet, a small librarian-looking type woman in a slightly loose suit, slammed her hand down on the desk. "Have I not already made it clear that I'm not interested in hearing your campaign ideas?" The man sitting on the other side of the office was tall and wide, spotted with scars and absolutely soaked with pure testosterone. He was somewhere in his mid 30s, and had a blank look in his eyes that made him look rather stupid; but you would be quite an idiot to speak that way about none other than the infamous international hitman, the White Death. If you were to check his passport, it would tell you his name was Kenny Smith, which sounds like the name of a member of a C-list boyband and not in the least like a criminal associated with over 300 assassinations. This criminal, haphazardly stuffed between the armrests of a desk chair, opened his mouth to speak before reconsidering. He may know how to kill a person a dozen ways without even touching them, but he doesn't know how to deal with a pissed off marketing agent, and he wasn't ready to learn. The agent in question let out a long, theatric sigh, and rubbed her eyes tiredly before resting her elbows on the table. "I know all your friends have been supportive of your ideas, but I just don't think they would work for your particular needs." Kenny couldn't help it. "Ma'am, I fink it would really 'elp showcase my abilities," he blurted in an extensively colloquial form of English, "Johnny and Davo and all them others told me they thought it'd work just fine-" "I do not care what your friends think," Harriet interrupted sternly, "We are NOT putting up posters with images of you doing the thumbs up in front of a dead body. It would not be good for business at all." Despite Kenny's frantic denial and claims that "it'd really show 'em I'm a professional though, innit?", Harriet did have a point. When people hire a hitman, its often because they do not have the time or the guts it takes to pull off a murder by themselves. And if they do not have the time or guts to commit a murder, they do not have the time or guts to look at images of a murder that someone with the time and the guts has already committed. Also, the fact that posters with photos of dead bodies on it would likely not go down well with the general public and/or the legal system, because, as it turns out, murdering people is illegal. Despite Harriet's obtuse correctness on this subject, international assassin Kenny Smith was desperate to change her mind. Before the massive man could begin crying, a man in a black suit swung the office door open. "White Death has an appointment, ma'am," he said, checking the slim watch on his even slimmer wrist, "He'll consult you again soon, I'm sure." Harriet sighed. Whether it was of relief or disdain even she couldn't be sure. "Go on, then." she said monotonously, gesturing sharply to the doorway. Kenny Smith- who was slipping quickly back into the identity of the brutal White Death- pulled himself out of the tight chair and was quickly out of sight. Harriet, who had already begun searching through her notes for her next client, looked up upon realising the man in the suit still hadn't left. He gave her a look of completely clinical, manufactured false pity. "Ma'am, this job might shove a bit of paperwork your way. Cause a real ripple in the economy," he sighed. "A politician?" Harriet asked. The man nodded, and Harriet waved his dismissal. The moment the door closed, she slammed her head onto her desk and let out a long guttural groan. She hated this job.
"Assuming that Money is not a problem", I said, "you have two options." The man seated across the table did not react, heavily tatooed hands neatly folded on the dark wood surface. "I don't think the image we currently cultivate, that mafia-type organization is problematic in any sense, but if we want to expand and do business on the next level, we will have to change." The man blinked once. The man and the woman standing behind his stool scrutinizing me, did not move at all. With sweaty figers I opened the thin folder lying in front of me. I don't like to get no feedback at all. "The first option is to present our clients with a slick business-look. We rent office space in a big city, get suits and secretaries. When discussing contracts, we do not sit in shady rooms with menancing atmosphere, we sit in fancy office rooms with floor-to-ceiling-windows on one side of the room. We do not present our weapons. The client should get the feeling that he is talking to reliable businessmen, signing a contract with us will not feel different from hiring a lawyer." I laid one of the portfolios on the smoth wood surface in front of the man. "The other option is to go in a completely different direction." The man in front of me - I could have sworn - lifted an eyebrow, as if to signal curiosity. This gave me new motivation. "This option is to cultivate a quite exotic image. To make our clients shiver in awe, all throughout the process. This will leave them with an impression of having met with high-level assasins, probably beyond their scale. They will think that we are very competent, but they will not want to have anything to do with us after we have conducted the assassination." "So what's the image?", he asked. I could not hold back a smile after receiving such an obvious sign of interest. "We take up residence in a remote mountain. Up there, we build a fort or a temple-like structure and bring our clients there. We should get some weird-looking utensils, maybe some ancient idols, demonic faces. If we want to go full-on, we can also put ancient weapons on the walls, or some mockup of a human skin." "We can get real human skin.", the woman standing behind the stool said calmly. I continued: "The image we want to cultivate is one of ancient secrecy. We should also change our name, maybe "assassins of the black lotus" or something similar, to give our clients the appropriate feeling. To have some people chant latin or sanskrit is optional, but we should definitely get some asians, this will strengthen the aura of mysticism and exoticism around our temple of doom." "I don't really like either option", the man said bluntly as I put the second portfolio in front of him. "It just dosen't feel like this is who we are." I stared at him, dumbfounded. "But didn't you want a new image?", I asked. "Yes but I was not thinking about a change like that. How about something more down-to-earth? How about small steps?" "Small steps?" "Well, maybe we could personalize our services. Starbucks does the same, right? They put your name on the coffee when you buy it. How about we let our assassins carry a message from the client to the victim?". "That sounds so good.", the man behind his stool said. "Great Idea", I said.
[WP] Humanity expected First Contact to be with an entirely new race - Not more humans.
It took centuries to figure it out but once we did it was actually quite simple. A line as straight as a razors edge through space, starting from a point near the galactic center and leading off down the spiral arm and out into the void between. We will never know who the founders were, they are farther away than we will ever be able to reach but we do know where they came from by tracing their back-trail to their home world. Or what was left of it. Just a cloud of gas in space now, perhaps destroyed by their primary star collapsing, we don't really know. And on every planet they stopped on, humans. Just like us but closer to the center more technologically advanced and less advanced the further away. Scientist believed that we were seeded onto these worlds, we were placed here, perhaps they assumed as colonies. They were so very wrong. We aren't colonies, were vermin. Like rats jumping ship at every new port of call, we spread from their travels. Pests unnoticed and left behind to spread. And in every case from the very first planet the founders reached it's the same story. Humanity spreads, humanity destroys. We understand now why no other species has reached out to us. Why would you try to talk to a plague rat?
"Could this be a hoax?" The gathered men and women sitting around the long boardroom table all shook their heads. "No, Mr. President," one of the men said. "We've done an exhaustive analysis of the signal and everything indicates that this is a genuine event. Despite no sign of any vessels in orbit around the Earth. Not only are they trying to communicate; the signal was meant for *us*. They want to meet with you." The president sat up straighter and looked at the scientist. "I guess all that '*take me to your leader*' stuff turned out to be true," he chuckled. "I'm impressed you guys translated it so fast. As I understand it you only got the signal a couple of hours ago." The scientist shook his head. The rest of the men and women began to rise out of their chair and head out as if the meeting were over. "There was nothing to translate, the message was in English. They didn't ask for our leader...," he paused and looked around. He was left alone with the president. "They asked, specifically, for the 'president of the United States.' I'm sure you can appreciate how much more surprising that is." "What about the U.N.? Any movement on that end?" the nameless scientist shook his head. "As far as we can tell, Mr. President, the message was meant for us and only for us." "Fantastic news. I'll meet them since I don't have to worry about the U.N. breathing down my neck. Any idea of what they look like? I'd like to be prepared if I'm going to shake hands with a tentacle monster." "That message only contained audio data. I'd suggest you plan to shake hands with a tentacle monster, just in case." The president nodded. "Set it up, as soon as possible." "Actually, Sir, they said the same thing. They're already standing by." "Well," the President stood from his seat. "Lead the way, let's not keep them waiting." The scientist nodded and stood to lead the President out. They picked up the guard detail waiting outside the conference room. He led them through a maze of fluorescent lights and narrow, white corridors. They reached a lab where all the other men and women that were in the boardroom disappeared to. Each of them seemed focused on his or her own task; they were getting ready to monitor the impending visit. "Are you able to send any messages back?" The President asked. The scientist that had been accompanying him shook his head. "They told us how to let them know when we're ready, but we could not figure out how to communicate beyond that." The President nodded. "Let them know we're ready." The scientist held his hand out to the President and offered him two small, yellow earplugs. "You'll need these." After the President accepted the earbuds, the scientist walked to a nearby control panel and pressed a button. The lab immediately filled with a low rumbling sound as the speakers played a certain frequency. All the scientists in the lab put in their own earplugs while the lead turned a knob to raise the volume. The rumbling grew louder, and everyone covered their ears with their hands; the earplugs did not do enough to block out the sound. After several loud moments, a small black dot appeared in the air in front of the president. It looked like a dead 3d pixel stuck in the air. "STEP BACK MR. PRESIDENT!" A member of the security team placed a hand on the President's shoulder and yelled to be heard over the rumbling. The black dot grew taller and wider until it looked like a hole in reality. The scientists in the lab gathered around the anomaly pointing different instruments at it. They fell into a sort of orbit around the black hole; the shape mesmerized them. Each one realized no matter what angle they looked at the hole, it looked like a hole. They expected it to thin and flatten its shape when viewed from the side, but it resembled a perfect hole no matter how they looked at it. Two pale, dark-haired women and a small black cat stepped out of the hole. The tall woman wore a white business dress, the shorter one wore black. The cat had a red skull-like pattern on the fur atop its head. Once they exited the hole it disappeared. The scientist stopped the rumbling frequency. "Mr. President, my name is Dana Sharp. I believe we can do business together." "You're human?" The President asked. Dana nodded. "How? How did you travel here? Where did you come from? What can you tell us about what's outside the galaxy?" Ms. Sharp's eyes narrowed; she squinted at the President in confusion. "We came from an alternate Earth. We don't know and don't care about anything outside the galaxy. There're too many interesting Earths to think about that kind of thing." \*\*\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #54. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
[WP] Humanity expected First Contact to be with an entirely new race - Not more humans.
The emissary sighed and shook her head sadly, jeweled dreadlocks flashing as they flailed about her formal robes. "It's not just us. It's everyone." I stared at my translation app, and tapped my earbud. "I'm sorry? Could you repeat that?" It was strange hearing her language, strange because it wasn't nearly strange *enough*. The human mouth can only make so many sounds, and certain aspects of inflection seem to be innate to our language centers. It wasn't helping my general bewilderment. She just nodded sadly. "I know how you feel, trust me. We made our own First Contact just a couple years ago. Then another one last month. Humans. All of them. The second civilization we contacted had also contacted two others. All human. All within the last three years, for them." "Oh...okay," I said, and made an heroic effort to pull all my diplomatic training back to speaking terms with the words coming out of my mouth. "Some of these years might be very different to ours, though? Right?" She laughed. It was a bitter laugh, clearly, and I hated that. How many years had I fantasized about having to learn whole new ways of being, of body language, quirks of meaning we could only imagine? Instead, I knew a bitter laugh when I heard one, right away. And now she was telling me this was no fluke, that there might not be anyone really, truly new to talk to. Her expression softened; she must have seen mine. Which was clear enough. God. Damn. It. "No, all of our planets are pretty similar. Years are all plus or minus five percent. Days too. Gravity barely varies." "Surely there can't be that many planets almost identical to Earth," I said, then cursed my own stupidity. Of course there could. Not that many *nearby*, sure, but Starwell FTL tech meant we could go anywhere in the galaxy we could point at. Distance had ceased to be all that relevant. I held up a hand to forestall her correcting me, then remembered that an outward palm was offensive in her culture, and winced. "Sorry, forgot. For us that means, 'just a moment.' I do realize what I said was foolish." "Not a problem," she said in her smooth diplomat's voice. "I'm well aware. I was very thoroughly briefed on cultural differences." "Speaking of that, why didn't you tell us this sooner?" "We wanted to be far enough into the cultural exchange to have a really good chance of gauging your reactions," she said. "Unnecessary, really. Honestly, you look just like I felt when *I* was told the same thing. Humans just aren't that different." I felt my own slow nod as though from far away. "No. They're not. And you must have been just as disappointed by that as I am. I can see it in your face, which is, forgive, also incredibly disappointing." She just laughed another bitter laugh. She didn't need to nod, which was just as well because the fact that her culture also used the gesture to indicate agreement was another irritating reminder of similarity. I went on. "How...how did this happen? How is it possible?" She tilted her head, first right then left, in her equivalent of a shrug. It almost didn't matter. Her face gave the meaning away. I wanted something to tear in my frustration. "No one seems to know yet. Maybe when we all put our knowledge together we can start to understand. We all have slightly different ape relatives, and some interesting larger divergences in our more distant animal cousins. That's something to look into at least." "I suppose," I sighed. "My pet theory so far is that someone's been meddling with evolution all over the galaxy. And if we ever find out who, I'm going to *wring their neck.*" ​ r/Magleby
"Could this be a hoax?" The gathered men and women sitting around the long boardroom table all shook their heads. "No, Mr. President," one of the men said. "We've done an exhaustive analysis of the signal and everything indicates that this is a genuine event. Despite no sign of any vessels in orbit around the Earth. Not only are they trying to communicate; the signal was meant for *us*. They want to meet with you." The president sat up straighter and looked at the scientist. "I guess all that '*take me to your leader*' stuff turned out to be true," he chuckled. "I'm impressed you guys translated it so fast. As I understand it you only got the signal a couple of hours ago." The scientist shook his head. The rest of the men and women began to rise out of their chair and head out as if the meeting were over. "There was nothing to translate, the message was in English. They didn't ask for our leader...," he paused and looked around. He was left alone with the president. "They asked, specifically, for the 'president of the United States.' I'm sure you can appreciate how much more surprising that is." "What about the U.N.? Any movement on that end?" the nameless scientist shook his head. "As far as we can tell, Mr. President, the message was meant for us and only for us." "Fantastic news. I'll meet them since I don't have to worry about the U.N. breathing down my neck. Any idea of what they look like? I'd like to be prepared if I'm going to shake hands with a tentacle monster." "That message only contained audio data. I'd suggest you plan to shake hands with a tentacle monster, just in case." The president nodded. "Set it up, as soon as possible." "Actually, Sir, they said the same thing. They're already standing by." "Well," the President stood from his seat. "Lead the way, let's not keep them waiting." The scientist nodded and stood to lead the President out. They picked up the guard detail waiting outside the conference room. He led them through a maze of fluorescent lights and narrow, white corridors. They reached a lab where all the other men and women that were in the boardroom disappeared to. Each of them seemed focused on his or her own task; they were getting ready to monitor the impending visit. "Are you able to send any messages back?" The President asked. The scientist that had been accompanying him shook his head. "They told us how to let them know when we're ready, but we could not figure out how to communicate beyond that." The President nodded. "Let them know we're ready." The scientist held his hand out to the President and offered him two small, yellow earplugs. "You'll need these." After the President accepted the earbuds, the scientist walked to a nearby control panel and pressed a button. The lab immediately filled with a low rumbling sound as the speakers played a certain frequency. All the scientists in the lab put in their own earplugs while the lead turned a knob to raise the volume. The rumbling grew louder, and everyone covered their ears with their hands; the earplugs did not do enough to block out the sound. After several loud moments, a small black dot appeared in the air in front of the president. It looked like a dead 3d pixel stuck in the air. "STEP BACK MR. PRESIDENT!" A member of the security team placed a hand on the President's shoulder and yelled to be heard over the rumbling. The black dot grew taller and wider until it looked like a hole in reality. The scientists in the lab gathered around the anomaly pointing different instruments at it. They fell into a sort of orbit around the black hole; the shape mesmerized them. Each one realized no matter what angle they looked at the hole, it looked like a hole. They expected it to thin and flatten its shape when viewed from the side, but it resembled a perfect hole no matter how they looked at it. Two pale, dark-haired women and a small black cat stepped out of the hole. The tall woman wore a white business dress, the shorter one wore black. The cat had a red skull-like pattern on the fur atop its head. Once they exited the hole it disappeared. The scientist stopped the rumbling frequency. "Mr. President, my name is Dana Sharp. I believe we can do business together." "You're human?" The President asked. Dana nodded. "How? How did you travel here? Where did you come from? What can you tell us about what's outside the galaxy?" Ms. Sharp's eyes narrowed; she squinted at the President in confusion. "We came from an alternate Earth. We don't know and don't care about anything outside the galaxy. There're too many interesting Earths to think about that kind of thing." \*\*\* Thank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #54. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order.
[WP] Humanity expected First Contact to be with an entirely new race - Not more humans.
It took centuries to figure it out but once we did it was actually quite simple. A line as straight as a razors edge through space, starting from a point near the galactic center and leading off down the spiral arm and out into the void between. We will never know who the founders were, they are farther away than we will ever be able to reach but we do know where they came from by tracing their back-trail to their home world. Or what was left of it. Just a cloud of gas in space now, perhaps destroyed by their primary star collapsing, we don't really know. And on every planet they stopped on, humans. Just like us but closer to the center more technologically advanced and less advanced the further away. Scientist believed that we were seeded onto these worlds, we were placed here, perhaps they assumed as colonies. They were so very wrong. We aren't colonies, were vermin. Like rats jumping ship at every new port of call, we spread from their travels. Pests unnoticed and left behind to spread. And in every case from the very first planet the founders reached it's the same story. Humanity spreads, humanity destroys. We understand now why no other species has reached out to us. Why would you try to talk to a plague rat?
When we first met, there was pandemonium. First contact as not at all like we expected. When we first met aliens, the government was not surprised that they could reach us. We ourselves were getting closer to drive technology, at our current speeds, we could achieve up to 45 percent of light speed before collapsing. Although we had yet to create any kind of long term ship to travel large distances, humanity was reaching for the stars. The whole event was televised. A large contact team, consisting of 50 people from different nations, in all sorts of fields. Military, biologists, linguists, and so on. Anything that might be required to talk to them. We had a few clues that they would be like us. When we spotted their ship in orbit, we had a few clues that they would be like us. For one, their airlock was built to accommodate the same size as us. And their visual and communication equipment were similar, suggesting that they occupied the same length of the electromagnetic spectrum as us. Their airlock looked like it was designed to handle oxygen, and other such clues suggested similar things. We built a ship that would be able to interface with their airlock. Just in case, the whole ship would be partitioned, and a backup team was kept in the sealed off sections. All of the contact team wore specialised space suits, that had a video feed and a basic communicator that showed friendly messages, like I come in piece. The engineering effort needed to do this was astounding, and the fact that it was done in a month made it even more amazing. We launched the ship and pointed our anti-satellite missiles at them, just in case. Millions, nay, billions of people watched the event to witness another stepping stone in the history of humanity. When the airlock interfaced, the data began coming in. The air was perfectly breathable by humans, and the environment was around the same temperatures too. All suitable for humans to live in. When we saw the aliens, panic ensued. Within a few minutes, everyone became a conspiracy theorists. Because they looked just like us. Some said that the aliens were in disguise, in an effort to trick us. Others said that it was to look more friendly towards us. Different people thought different things, and none of them were closer to the truth. But things eventually calmed down. We stayed up there in orbit, for a year, and even though the expense of maintaining the ship was astronomical, we did it anyway. We did the most basic communication, like trying to speak with someone who does not speak the same language, but even harder, because you don't share the same gestures, facial expressions, or anything. Eventually, we pieced together their language, and them, ours. Our communication was slow, but in time, we could do the basic communication. While that was happening, more ships arrived from their system. It was their first contact too. Our anthropologists, both ours and theirs pieced together that we were from the same species, when all of a sudden, they were somehow put in their world, and us in ours. We were separated, just when we began to develop language. We developed into separate sub-species, and their brain structure was slightly different, but just as smart (We called them homo aliena). Their history was pretty similar to ours, with many wars, and culture that developed faster, if not in a similar way. They too, have a concept of countries, and they were not people who had world peace, like we thought. Their planet was slightly bigger than ours, but our gravity was roughly similar. We, in short, had many similarities and differences. But there was one thing, of which the implications were terrifying. That if we, grew up on one world, and were placed on another by something else, there is someone else out there. Another species, or maybe even humans, who is more powerful than us, having the power to play god with us and being able to control our species.Something above us all. Both our planets quaked in fear at this. Because there is something out there, something powerful. \---- r/sajeno222 for more of this crap. I don't know what I just wrote.
[WP] Humanity expected First Contact to be with an entirely new race - Not more humans.
The emissary sighed and shook her head sadly, jeweled dreadlocks flashing as they flailed about her formal robes. "It's not just us. It's everyone." I stared at my translation app, and tapped my earbud. "I'm sorry? Could you repeat that?" It was strange hearing her language, strange because it wasn't nearly strange *enough*. The human mouth can only make so many sounds, and certain aspects of inflection seem to be innate to our language centers. It wasn't helping my general bewilderment. She just nodded sadly. "I know how you feel, trust me. We made our own First Contact just a couple years ago. Then another one last month. Humans. All of them. The second civilization we contacted had also contacted two others. All human. All within the last three years, for them." "Oh...okay," I said, and made an heroic effort to pull all my diplomatic training back to speaking terms with the words coming out of my mouth. "Some of these years might be very different to ours, though? Right?" She laughed. It was a bitter laugh, clearly, and I hated that. How many years had I fantasized about having to learn whole new ways of being, of body language, quirks of meaning we could only imagine? Instead, I knew a bitter laugh when I heard one, right away. And now she was telling me this was no fluke, that there might not be anyone really, truly new to talk to. Her expression softened; she must have seen mine. Which was clear enough. God. Damn. It. "No, all of our planets are pretty similar. Years are all plus or minus five percent. Days too. Gravity barely varies." "Surely there can't be that many planets almost identical to Earth," I said, then cursed my own stupidity. Of course there could. Not that many *nearby*, sure, but Starwell FTL tech meant we could go anywhere in the galaxy we could point at. Distance had ceased to be all that relevant. I held up a hand to forestall her correcting me, then remembered that an outward palm was offensive in her culture, and winced. "Sorry, forgot. For us that means, 'just a moment.' I do realize what I said was foolish." "Not a problem," she said in her smooth diplomat's voice. "I'm well aware. I was very thoroughly briefed on cultural differences." "Speaking of that, why didn't you tell us this sooner?" "We wanted to be far enough into the cultural exchange to have a really good chance of gauging your reactions," she said. "Unnecessary, really. Honestly, you look just like I felt when *I* was told the same thing. Humans just aren't that different." I felt my own slow nod as though from far away. "No. They're not. And you must have been just as disappointed by that as I am. I can see it in your face, which is, forgive, also incredibly disappointing." She just laughed another bitter laugh. She didn't need to nod, which was just as well because the fact that her culture also used the gesture to indicate agreement was another irritating reminder of similarity. I went on. "How...how did this happen? How is it possible?" She tilted her head, first right then left, in her equivalent of a shrug. It almost didn't matter. Her face gave the meaning away. I wanted something to tear in my frustration. "No one seems to know yet. Maybe when we all put our knowledge together we can start to understand. We all have slightly different ape relatives, and some interesting larger divergences in our more distant animal cousins. That's something to look into at least." "I suppose," I sighed. "My pet theory so far is that someone's been meddling with evolution all over the galaxy. And if we ever find out who, I'm going to *wring their neck.*" ​ r/Magleby
When we first met, there was pandemonium. First contact as not at all like we expected. When we first met aliens, the government was not surprised that they could reach us. We ourselves were getting closer to drive technology, at our current speeds, we could achieve up to 45 percent of light speed before collapsing. Although we had yet to create any kind of long term ship to travel large distances, humanity was reaching for the stars. The whole event was televised. A large contact team, consisting of 50 people from different nations, in all sorts of fields. Military, biologists, linguists, and so on. Anything that might be required to talk to them. We had a few clues that they would be like us. When we spotted their ship in orbit, we had a few clues that they would be like us. For one, their airlock was built to accommodate the same size as us. And their visual and communication equipment were similar, suggesting that they occupied the same length of the electromagnetic spectrum as us. Their airlock looked like it was designed to handle oxygen, and other such clues suggested similar things. We built a ship that would be able to interface with their airlock. Just in case, the whole ship would be partitioned, and a backup team was kept in the sealed off sections. All of the contact team wore specialised space suits, that had a video feed and a basic communicator that showed friendly messages, like I come in piece. The engineering effort needed to do this was astounding, and the fact that it was done in a month made it even more amazing. We launched the ship and pointed our anti-satellite missiles at them, just in case. Millions, nay, billions of people watched the event to witness another stepping stone in the history of humanity. When the airlock interfaced, the data began coming in. The air was perfectly breathable by humans, and the environment was around the same temperatures too. All suitable for humans to live in. When we saw the aliens, panic ensued. Within a few minutes, everyone became a conspiracy theorists. Because they looked just like us. Some said that the aliens were in disguise, in an effort to trick us. Others said that it was to look more friendly towards us. Different people thought different things, and none of them were closer to the truth. But things eventually calmed down. We stayed up there in orbit, for a year, and even though the expense of maintaining the ship was astronomical, we did it anyway. We did the most basic communication, like trying to speak with someone who does not speak the same language, but even harder, because you don't share the same gestures, facial expressions, or anything. Eventually, we pieced together their language, and them, ours. Our communication was slow, but in time, we could do the basic communication. While that was happening, more ships arrived from their system. It was their first contact too. Our anthropologists, both ours and theirs pieced together that we were from the same species, when all of a sudden, they were somehow put in their world, and us in ours. We were separated, just when we began to develop language. We developed into separate sub-species, and their brain structure was slightly different, but just as smart (We called them homo aliena). Their history was pretty similar to ours, with many wars, and culture that developed faster, if not in a similar way. They too, have a concept of countries, and they were not people who had world peace, like we thought. Their planet was slightly bigger than ours, but our gravity was roughly similar. We, in short, had many similarities and differences. But there was one thing, of which the implications were terrifying. That if we, grew up on one world, and were placed on another by something else, there is someone else out there. Another species, or maybe even humans, who is more powerful than us, having the power to play god with us and being able to control our species.Something above us all. Both our planets quaked in fear at this. Because there is something out there, something powerful. \---- r/sajeno222 for more of this crap. I don't know what I just wrote.
[WP] The second coming has started, demons walk the earth attempting to slaughter humans. However they failed to predict that humanities capacity to cause harm far surpasses their own. So now you're living your life like normal, the only difference is the amount of weaponry you bring to work.
“Lock and load everyone, it’s gonna be rough out there, we might not all make it out alive, but we’ll go out there and fight anyway.” “Hurrah!” We all shout Our APC roles down the street, the steady sound of the MG turret firing permeates through the entire vehicle. “Alright, we are in the parking lot, go!” The driver shouts. We put on our helmets and fling open the door, the HR Department is manning the fortifications this morning, firing the defensive weaponry from behind sandbags as we make our way inside. I get inside with the shriek of mortar fire and steady beat of 50. cal emplacements. In the lobby we pass through more sandbag lines, the tile floor has been mined so we have to be careful where we step. “Morning Chara.” Says one gunner, “Morning Jim, got ya a coffee.” “Thanks, really need a pick me up right now,” I had him the extra cup from my backpack as artillery begins booming outside, “Hmm, looks like the call center really came through today.” “Yeah, well, enjoy manning the guns, I’m off to my desk.” Jim gives me a thumbs up, “See ya at lunch?” “Maybe, my defensive shift might be then but I’ll see what I can do.” He nods thoughtfully, “Sounds good.” I swipe my entry card at the security checkpoint and walk to the elevator. Inside the elevator guard greets me “Morning, 4th floor as usual?” “Yep.” He holsters his handgun and presses the 4 button “Alright then!” The elevator dings, I straighten my suit a bullet-proof vest “Be safe Steve.” The guard nods, “Will do.” The doors open to reveal another set of MG nests, “Ah, Chara, you’re early today.” “Caught the early transport this morning, I’ll head to my desk and work on the documents for the client until everyone else gets on for today’s call.” We all look up for a second as we hear kegs flying over the office followed by the telltale sound of missile explosions, “Great, you do that.” I take my seat by the window, outside hellish creatures advance down the street before being cut down by the defensive line of field guns and HMGs, company transports and tanks are also being moved to the frontlines. Ah, a nice peaceful view. Now, to clarify what we can and can’t do for the client to avoid a lawsuit.
For the last couple of years I have been religiously preparing myself for the Zombie Apocalypse, watching movies considering them as training, looking at every detail that made the people in the movie either survive or get killed, analyzing the different kinds of zombies in every one of those movies, imagining different scenarios, thinking what kind of weapons would be the most useful at killing in terms of it's longevity, discretion and supplies needed, hell, I even considered the best surviving outfit (it obviously included hiking boots). It's least to say that most of the people around me though I was kind of crazy, always talking or thinking about that kind of staff, but THAT DAY, I was ready for them, not the zombies I had expected thought, but the monsters that emerged from the ocean willing to kill us all, not even aware that people like me existed, and us discovering that they could be killed just like the zombies we had imagined. We lost a lot of people, the unprepared ones, you know? but damn! more than I imagined are still alive, people more like me and my fixation on surviving. We live the day to day life, always aware this war might not ever be over, always carrying around our weapons. always willing to kill a monster or two on our way to work, and sure, always wearing boots.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
We’ve been expecting you, sir. Haha, no it’s not like that. See those guys over there, we had a bet. The airport is buzzing with activity. A cart beeps through, narrowly clipping my hand luggage. “I said watch OUT” As I look over, I can no longer see my friends. Yes sir, and we’ve been expecting you, come right this way. I’m whisked away by the attendant into a back corridor. Right this way, sir. She hands me a boarding pass for an airline I’ve never heard of and slams the door in my face. I take out my phone and try to read what’s on my boarding pass, but maybe the ink has smudged. It’s unintelligible, more like hieroglyphics than letters. I’ve been to this airport many times, every time is the same. 2hrs early, drink at chili’s with the chicken tenders, why is today different? Why is it today I don’t remember this corridor? OH FUCK! Never leave your bags unattended. What have they done to me? I break out into a cold sweat, trying to smash open the door in front of me. Locked solid. In a panic I begin rushing down the long, dark hallway. There are several doors but none of them open. Bang. Bang. Bang. Click…the door opens into an airport terminal that looks exactly the same as where I’ve been. We’ve been expecting you sir, they said you’d be here. Can I see your boarding pass please! Welcome to paradise.
The Plane Ticket He hands me the ticket and I look at it puzzled, the writing is something I’ve ever seen before, figure drawn in such away that was almost mesmerizing. I asked what it was and how much it would cost me but all the attendant said was “He told us you would come…”. The man then turned away to help someone else so I continued on trying to find something on the ticket I could understand. After close scanning I found it, in the fine print at the bottom it read “Gate 13”. I thought that was strange being that the number 13 is feared but I searched for it anyway. I finally reached gate 12 but as I passed it all that I saw was gate 14, I asked a nearby employee but he simply looked at me like I was an idiot and stepped away assuming I was a dumb kid. With a great curiosity for what the ticket could lead I started to look around between the two gates. Then etched into the carpet were symbols similar to the ones on the ticket in such a way that you’d only see them if you recognized them. I started feeling around to see if maybe there was a trapdoor or something but nothing, then my ticket fell and was sucked into a large floor vent. I was too fascinated now to just give up so when no one was looking I slipped down into the vent to chase after my ticket. I dropped down to the floor of a large room, confused, I picked up my ticket from the ground and began to scan the room. I was surrounded by four gray concrete wall one with a door that read in large letter, “Gate 13”. In my excitement I ran to the door and next to it a mechanism like that of a vending machine that read “Insert ticket here”. I held my ticket up to the slot and it sucked it in then with a strident screech the large metal door slid down into the floor. I stepped in and the floor dropped out from under me and I began freefalling. It felt like hours I couldn’t tell what was up or down, all I could see was darkness. But finally after what felt like an eternity a strange force stopped my fall it lowered me to the ground and softly set me down. Then over an intercom a raspy voice spoke and said, “Hello Agent Z we’ve been long awaiting your arrival.” I reached my arms out to feel for a wall and then all four of the wall around me fell. I was surrounded by computer and people. It looked like mission control and everyone was engaged in what they were doing but as the walls crashed to the floor they all looked up from what they were doing and someone shouted, “Finally our savior is here!”. His exclamation was followed by cheers and excitement as if the world had been saved, and apparently I was significant, yet I had no idea where I was or what the hell was going on.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I’m never drinking again! Stupid alcohol. One moment I’m on my way to beaches and cocktails and the next I’ve lost it all in the frenzy of a stupid bet. The guys cheered me on as I got off from the shuttle to my terminal. There was no end to the embarrassment as people stared more at me all though all the shouting was coming from behind me. Adam! Adam! Adam! The doors of the shuttle closed behind me as I stared jealously at my childhood friends cruising away to the paradise that I had planned. I’m never drinking again!! Wait a minute. That’s odd, no one else got off the shuttle. I looked around. There weren’t any passengers I could see. Just staff. There uniform different from the others I usually see. They paid me no heed. One of them notices me just affixed and pointed me to the escalators. Right. Seems like I have no choice now. Who knows maybe I do end up at a beach. Find someone even maybe? I chuckled, as the stair case carried me. Maybe this won’t be bad at all. A sign board pointed left towards gate no.1. Finally I began to see people without uniform. Lots of white coats. Must be some expedition. “Hello Mr. Ward” The Air hostess beamed at me. I handed my boarding pass to her. “What language is that anyways” I asked her. “Mr. Ward as we don’t have a lot of passengers you’ve been upgraded to first class” she chuckled with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She mustn’t have heard me. Wait, what? First class! Haah looks like this trip will be paradise after all. “Right this way” She gently took my backpack and asked me to follow her. As I followed I admired her perfect physique. Great start I suppose. The craft was magnificent. Larger than any other plane I’d ever seen! So this is what first class looks like! “This is your cabin Mr. Ward.” “You can call me Adam please” she chuckled with the same glint again. “Adam, I’ll be right back with your welcome drink. Let me know if you need anything” I smiled. As the door slid into locking position I finally relaxed. Wait till the the guys hear about this. That’s odd no window. I saw a button on where the window was supposed to be. The button just had 2 arrows, up or down. I pressed down. It was as if the ships walls began to crumble away. Bloody hell it was strange and jaw dropping. The light of the sun poured in from the door shaped glass that wasn’t there a second ago. “Hi Adam, here’s your drink” I didn’t hear her open the door but I didn’t question it. “So how long till we reach our destination?” She chuckled at my question again. Like I’d just hinted at some kind of an inside joke. “Don’t worry Adam, we’ll be there before you realise it. Let me know if you need anything”. And poof she was gone. I sipped on my bright blue drink. It was sweet yet salty. Very nice indeed. I lay down on my very own bed and started flicking through movies on the sixty inch screen that hung from the ceiling. I felt sleepy. I wasn’t tired just sleepy. Should’ve asked her name. First thing I’ll do when I get up. Mu eyes shut. *some time later* A strange voice kept repeating itself. I was still sleepy. The light from my window wasn’t disturbing me at all I thought. Did I sleep through my flight, I asked myself as I half opened my eyes. The window was still open but I couldn’t see outside. Wait. No, Was I staring at the night sky? Did we not take off? No. I took a closer look. We had taken off alright. There was no ground below at all. No sea no beach. Just a dark abyss with shiny dots all across the horizon. Am I in space? Am I dreaming? The voice of the announcement had stopped. The movie on my screen no longer played. It was dark too but for the message written in bold white. I still felt drowsy. I could read my name. But there was more. It read Welcome to Planet Earth Adam.
The Plane Ticket He hands me the ticket and I look at it puzzled, the writing is something I’ve ever seen before, figure drawn in such away that was almost mesmerizing. I asked what it was and how much it would cost me but all the attendant said was “He told us you would come…”. The man then turned away to help someone else so I continued on trying to find something on the ticket I could understand. After close scanning I found it, in the fine print at the bottom it read “Gate 13”. I thought that was strange being that the number 13 is feared but I searched for it anyway. I finally reached gate 12 but as I passed it all that I saw was gate 14, I asked a nearby employee but he simply looked at me like I was an idiot and stepped away assuming I was a dumb kid. With a great curiosity for what the ticket could lead I started to look around between the two gates. Then etched into the carpet were symbols similar to the ones on the ticket in such a way that you’d only see them if you recognized them. I started feeling around to see if maybe there was a trapdoor or something but nothing, then my ticket fell and was sucked into a large floor vent. I was too fascinated now to just give up so when no one was looking I slipped down into the vent to chase after my ticket. I dropped down to the floor of a large room, confused, I picked up my ticket from the ground and began to scan the room. I was surrounded by four gray concrete wall one with a door that read in large letter, “Gate 13”. In my excitement I ran to the door and next to it a mechanism like that of a vending machine that read “Insert ticket here”. I held my ticket up to the slot and it sucked it in then with a strident screech the large metal door slid down into the floor. I stepped in and the floor dropped out from under me and I began freefalling. It felt like hours I couldn’t tell what was up or down, all I could see was darkness. But finally after what felt like an eternity a strange force stopped my fall it lowered me to the ground and softly set me down. Then over an intercom a raspy voice spoke and said, “Hello Agent Z we’ve been long awaiting your arrival.” I reached my arms out to feel for a wall and then all four of the wall around me fell. I was surrounded by computer and people. It looked like mission control and everyone was engaged in what they were doing but as the walls crashed to the floor they all looked up from what they were doing and someone shouted, “Finally our savior is here!”. His exclamation was followed by cheers and excitement as if the world had been saved, and apparently I was significant, yet I had no idea where I was or what the hell was going on.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I’m never drinking again! Stupid alcohol. One moment I’m on my way to beaches and cocktails and the next I’ve lost it all in the frenzy of a stupid bet. The guys cheered me on as I got off from the shuttle to my terminal. There was no end to the embarrassment as people stared more at me all though all the shouting was coming from behind me. Adam! Adam! Adam! The doors of the shuttle closed behind me as I stared jealously at my childhood friends cruising away to the paradise that I had planned. I’m never drinking again!! Wait a minute. That’s odd, no one else got off the shuttle. I looked around. There weren’t any passengers I could see. Just staff. There uniform different from the others I usually see. They paid me no heed. One of them notices me just affixed and pointed me to the escalators. Right. Seems like I have no choice now. Who knows maybe I do end up at a beach. Find someone even maybe? I chuckled, as the stair case carried me. Maybe this won’t be bad at all. A sign board pointed left towards gate no.1. Finally I began to see people without uniform. Lots of white coats. Must be some expedition. “Hello Mr. Ward” The Air hostess beamed at me. I handed my boarding pass to her. “What language is that anyways” I asked her. “Mr. Ward as we don’t have a lot of passengers you’ve been upgraded to first class” she chuckled with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She mustn’t have heard me. Wait, what? First class! Haah looks like this trip will be paradise after all. “Right this way” She gently took my backpack and asked me to follow her. As I followed I admired her perfect physique. Great start I suppose. The craft was magnificent. Larger than any other plane I’d ever seen! So this is what first class looks like! “This is your cabin Mr. Ward.” “You can call me Adam please” she chuckled with the same glint again. “Adam, I’ll be right back with your welcome drink. Let me know if you need anything” I smiled. As the door slid into locking position I finally relaxed. Wait till the the guys hear about this. That’s odd no window. I saw a button on where the window was supposed to be. The button just had 2 arrows, up or down. I pressed down. It was as if the ships walls began to crumble away. Bloody hell it was strange and jaw dropping. The light of the sun poured in from the door shaped glass that wasn’t there a second ago. “Hi Adam, here’s your drink” I didn’t hear her open the door but I didn’t question it. “So how long till we reach our destination?” She chuckled at my question again. Like I’d just hinted at some kind of an inside joke. “Don’t worry Adam, we’ll be there before you realise it. Let me know if you need anything”. And poof she was gone. I sipped on my bright blue drink. It was sweet yet salty. Very nice indeed. I lay down on my very own bed and started flicking through movies on the sixty inch screen that hung from the ceiling. I felt sleepy. I wasn’t tired just sleepy. Should’ve asked her name. First thing I’ll do when I get up. Mu eyes shut. *some time later* A strange voice kept repeating itself. I was still sleepy. The light from my window wasn’t disturbing me at all I thought. Did I sleep through my flight, I asked myself as I half opened my eyes. The window was still open but I couldn’t see outside. Wait. No, Was I staring at the night sky? Did we not take off? No. I took a closer look. We had taken off alright. There was no ground below at all. No sea no beach. Just a dark abyss with shiny dots all across the horizon. Am I in space? Am I dreaming? The voice of the announcement had stopped. The movie on my screen no longer played. It was dark too but for the message written in bold white. I still felt drowsy. I could read my name. But there was more. It read Welcome to Planet Earth Adam.
"We're not really doing this." We were in the airport, about four people shy of the front of the ticket line. My friend Abeline had my wrist in one of her hands and my passport in the other. Now that we were this close, I had finally found the nerve and had just turned to face her. "I don't even have my cell phone on me, Abby. What if I end up in, like, Zimbabwe? Or -- I don't know, Moscow?" I pressed, eyebrows pinching together. My best friend cackled, one of the most legitimately terrifying laughs I'd ever heard from her. Another person had finished up front, and she took a step up, dragging me with. "Well, then, you'll have to buy a phone once you get there. You remember when I lost that bet last spring and they repossessed my car because of it?" She poked me in the chest with my passport, a bit harder than I thought was altogether necessary, and pushed me backward in line as another guest moved along. "I do. And I *also* remember what you said to me when it happened: 'You were the one who took the risk and lost the bet; this is your reward!'" Yeah, that sounded like a thing I would've said. She dropped her hand again, setting it on her cocked hip with a hint of attitude. "I should think that a cell will cost less than my entire back-payments and interest and fees and blahhhblablblbl." She blew a raspberry, then waved my caught wrist with a gesture. "You're not getting out of this, Klaus." As the last person cleared out of the way, that certainly seemed to be the case. I looked hard at Abeline, who raised her eyebrows in response. With a sigh, I stepped up. "Hi," I blurted, feeling like an absolute idiot. The blonde attendant smiled blankly at me, waiting. Her hands were folded together on top of her desk, and I noticed that one of her fingers was tapping gently, with barely-contained impatience showing as the silence drew on. I cleared my throat, and Abeline's grip on me tightened as her excitement grew. "I'd like a ticket for your farthest destination, please." The blonde woman's face blanked at the same time that Abeline's brightened with glee, and I noticed that the ticketer's finger had stopped tapping. I looked at Abby, pleading. We were surely about to get in trouble for taking up this woman's time. "The farthest destination?" she repeated, her tone softer than I expected despite the incoming chastisement. "You're sure?" My head snapped up at this last. A small gasp escaped Abby to my left, and she started bouncing on her heels. This was torture. "Yes, ma'am. Please," I clarified. The desk clerk glanced at her computer terminal, pressed once on the screen with the recently-stilled finger, and then laid her whole hand flat on a small glass panel beside her. *Fuck,* I panicked, *that'll be security for sure..* (Ctd when I get off work)
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
The Farthest Destination [Prologue] You lost a dare at an airport, which forces you to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize. ------ As you reached out to grab the ticket, the employee tightened his grip on the ticket with a widened stare.   “Did you see it?”, he repeated himself, a wide grin spreading across his old haggard face, emphasizing the wrinkles wrought upon it by time, like valleys carved into mountains by rivers that flowed for a million years.   A look of confusion swept your own face as you attempt to wrestle the ticket from his iron grip.   “Yes, uhh—“ you squinted at his name tag, “Larry. I do see the ticket. Very strange. Very exotic.”   His glassy eyes gloss over your facial expression as his grimace turned into a look of amusement.   “No no no, not the ticket,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal while walking away from his shift.   The ticket, it felt strange betwixt your fingers. Not exactly paper, not quite plastic, but utterly revolting to the touch. In fact, the texture feels unworldly, slimy without the slime, yet coarse without the grain. But despite the unsettling experience of holding the ticket, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off its symbolic inscriptions which took place of regular alphabets.   The placement of the flight details on the strange ticket are otherwise where they should be, as inferred from the ticket you retrieved from your front coat pocket—A flight to Boston, Texas, on a trip to visit Alice’s family. Shaking your head, you replaced the ticket to Boston back into your pocket with a look of confused anguish as you made your way back to Alice and her sister, Jana.   “So, what did you get over there Gulliver?” Jana looked up with an impish grin. This was mostly her idea, after all, and you can tell that she is getting a lot of amusement from this.   “Hahaha, except Gulliver was a sailor whom I am positive was doped up on psychedelic mushrooms,” you replied as you showed them the strange ticket you obtained.   Alice glanced over from the novel she was reading.   “That’s the ticket to Boston, dear.”   You looked down to find the strange ticket gone, replaced with the one from your pocket.   “Huh,” you grunted as you pat down the other pockets on your coat, down to the pockets on your jeans.   Gone.   “See Alice! I told you he was full of shit!” Jana exclaimed while laughing, slumping back in glee as she resumed her game on Alice’s portable gaming console.   Your face lit up with sudden realization that you did not actually pay for the strange ticket either.   “I need a drink of water,” you remarked dryly as you trotted off towards a dispenser.   As you bend over to take a cooling sip of water, the imagery of the tickets’ foreign inscriptions continue to float in your mind.   (Gate.) ((86.)) (((*Concourse.*))) ((((*G.*))))   --------------------   “Did you see it?”   As if a spell was broken, you jerked up violently, spinning your body around to find a woman talking on her cell phone as she walked past you towards the ladies’ restroom. She eyed you with a look of surprise that is warranted for your sudden movements.   “Gate 86, Concourse G,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way back to the concourse hallway.   Alice and Jana are awaiting the flight to Boston in Gate 82, and this is indeed Concourse G.   You hurried down the hallway in the direction where the Gate number increases.   81, 82, 83, 84— You stopped short, utterly confused by a wall at the end of the long corridor. There were no more Gates beyond this point.   A sickening feeling manifested between your fingers as you brought up your flight ticket only to realize you were holding the strange ticket all this time. The symbols on the ticket dancing around, distorting into a multitude of geometry as your hands began trembling furiously.   You took a really deep blink, the shifting symbols of the ticket putting massive strain on your eyes.   ------------------------- As your eyes readjust to the world around you, you realized that everything around you was suddenly…       Peaceful.       The concourse was completely empty, an ambient neon glow softly caressing the corridor, dark from the lights slowly flickering out.   86, departure.   Every Gate as far as your eye can see was Gate 86, departure. Your heart sank to your feet as your mind fail to comprehend the non-sequitur series of events that just transpired.   “Attention,” a voice boomed over the intercom. It was a rich baritone, honey to the ears; but it felt like the quiet, soothing voice conveys in itself a deep, rooted form of madness.   “Calling all outgoing passengers in Gate 86,” the voice paused, “Larry Hugh, please report to the front desk.”   You glared at the intercom, then at the security cameras.   This has got to be one of Jana’s pranks right?   But how did she get the entire airport into it?   Without any other option, your body seemingly guided itself towards the front desk of Gate 86.   Which front desk? Which Gate 86?   Does it matter? They are ALL GATE 86. THEY ARE ALL. GATE. EIGHTY-FUCKING-SIX.   You brought up the ticket between both hands, tearing away at it in desperation as your body trudged along slowly, completely terrified by the horrifying possibilities awaiting you at the end of this journey.   The ticket, as if conscious, refuses to succumb to inexistence despite your fervent effort to rip it to shreds with your cold, trembling fingers. Every new edge a tear creates is replaced immediately by a piece that occurs perpendicular to the original tear.   The world around you began dissolving into a sequence of a beautifully terrifying display of wondrous colors and shapes; doors opening out into the same building, glass windows bending beyond its elastic capabilities and steel beams distorted into an architect’s wettest dreams.   The Sun and Moon setting a thousand times simultaneously before the closest star to Earth swelled up into a red giant and collapsing under its own gravity, swallowing the entire Solar System with it while you still tore away at the ticket, unable to part your attention away from it for fear that what you may see would drive your primitive brain into the endless spiral of derangement; and yet somehow, you were still completely aware of the supernatural events unraveling around you like a kaleidoscope.   -------------------- The voices of uncountable lives past and present rose up to a majestic crescendo,   the stars and cosmic entities screamed in anguish     as the night sky convulsed into a singularity       replaced by           a ringing tone that resonates through your skull;                     the sound of nothing was in itself                                     deafening.                                     --------------------- *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* Like a miracle, the ticket finally ripped apart and dissolved into the aether; all that remains was the void of darkness surrounding you, staring back at you just the same as you are staring into it. Your vision, completely blurred with tears.   I’m so tired.   You reached up to touch your bald head, your fingers delicately caressing your leathery face as you slowly drifted off into deep slumber; the ringing in your ears fading away like your consciousness. ----------------------       (((((*... How would you put this... What comes around? Something like that?*)))))       Blinking, you opened your eyes with a start, the ringing in your ear subsiding as your eyesight slowly returns to you.   ---------------------- [Epilogue]   "Did you see it?" your eyes widened in excitement as a grin spread across your winkled old face, a young man looks at you quizzically.   [End]
"Do endeavour to enjoy your flight, Comrade." I nod and smile the appropriate amount in thanks, quashing the reflex to raise an eyebrow in bemusement. The designated departure lounge is as to be expected, the walls of my cubicle a dull brass. The provided cress and spinach bap is sufficiently soft, and the council pop is tepid, within acceptable limitations. The complaints pull-cord is well oiled, but it shan't be required this morning. So far this journey has begun like any other, and these familiar comforts calm my racing heart. I shall forever regret my foolishness that led to this journey. Succumbing to frivolity has often been my downfall, as has not learning from past mistakes. Remembering the 'dare' I accepted so light-heartedly re-fills my chest with tension. A literal jolt shunts me from my spiralling thoughts. I tilt to my left as the cubicle starts to move. I'd been privileged enough to fly by Auto-Zeppelin before, and the routine nature of boarding calmed my jangled nerves. Once the rumbling of my cubicle's wheels on their track stops, my anticipation rises. I am curious to see who my fellow passengers were, to gain some inkling of our joint destination, and indeed how far we will go. The useless misprinted ticket was hidden in the waistcoat pocket of my standard travel wear set C. I have never seen a destination spelled with such headache-inducing glyphs. I hope the shame from possessing a faulty ticket will be masked by the shame of wearing a potentially incorrect clothing set. The upcoming interaction with the ticket inspector will be painful. My lack of knowledge regarding my final destination will be no excuse for flouting centuries old etiquette. My criminal desire to break decorum and talk to my fellow passengers grows as I wait longer and longer for the walls of my cubicle to descend. The wait is torturous. The brass wall of the cubicle just about reflects my pallid face. It is a blank ovoid floating before me, at once both appearing flat and impossibly deep. After some time I begin to eye the complaints cord with temptation. Its bold vermilion cotton a siren's call to my now restless hand. Something must be wrong with the Zepp for the cubicle to stay erect for so long; and I am yet to hear the movements of other cubicles. The anxiety I had been almost successfully supressing now surfaces in a quaking mass, watering my eyes and constricting my throat. My fingernails make no purchase against the cold, brass walls. No seam I find is pliable or workable, the mechanism being purely external. A nail bends backwards, pain twitching through to my fingertip. My fists are also useless, my skin far softer and weaker than the dull metal. My once dim reflection is smeared with shining blood, which slowly dries to an opaque black. I now am completely alone; no floating ovoid for company; the glass for my tepid tapoline the only companion in my tiny cell. My stomach yawns with hunger. My bowels are a void, dragging my organs into painful positions. My eyes are heavy and closed. The walls are forever erect. With effort I arrange myself into a respectable position, as befits a yet-to-be discovered corpse. This is as far as I go.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
Only one on the plane and I'm still cant get in first class. I look at the ticket one last time trying to find out where I'm going. Google didn't tell me anything, reddit failed me, and I was still waiting for Yahoo answers. Or at least I was when I still had internet. Everything about this ride felt different than previous planes. Almost like the cabin as titled ever so slightly to the side. If there was a stewardess or any kind of customer service I'd. Have. Ordered something. My mind was drawn out the window. I saw the horizon. Not just any horizon. The horizon. The edge. The end point of our world. A solid wall of ice erupted out from the ocean easily putting the wall to shame in game of thrones. Once on top of it with ice spreading out in every direction I told myself that I was just going crazy. That we were just flying over Antarctica. That those crazy flat earthers weren't right. That was until I saw creature that looked more like a writhing mass of anger and hatred dart towards the plane. A massive set of jaws - one of many - was aimed at the cockpit only to be blasted out of the sky by blue fire and skewered by red lightning that turned to glass sticking with the creature as it fell to the cold ground below. Our savior was hardly any less fearsome. With a feathered wing span greater than the jet I was in, a tail that could crush a semi, and four legs I knew what the creature was before I saw its head. A dragon. A real dragon. The wall of ice came to an end. Rather than more artic waters there was a lush vibrant forest that didn't look like any forest I've seen. The trees were to big for that. The plane turned and I felt it turn leaning to the left and I gripped the seat harder than I gripped the couch at Mike's place when I had the worst trip ever. I had a feeling that this was going to be worse. Much much worse. The plane landed on a runway hidden in the forest there was no terminal no other planes. But the dragon was there. And so were other people. They buzzed about the plane unloading cargo I didnt even see. Then at long last the door was pulled open. A woman walked a gun that looked like it belonged to a super villian hung to her side and a spear that looked tight out of an anime was in her hand. She wore armor a sleek well suited mix between commando gear and medieval full plate. Her face was obscured by a large helmet that had horns jutting out from it. She stood taller than I thought judging me from behind that helmet her blue eyes almost glowing. With a hot breath she removed the helmet revealing her long red hair. I noticed that first because I like redheads and her hair was beautiful. Then I noticed those horns were a part of her head. And bits of red scales could be seen on her skin. She wasn't human. "Alright boy, howd you get here?" She spoke in an accent that was thick and unrecognizable. "Adventure, curiosity, study?" "A dare," I squeaked trying to hope I was still at Mike's. Her face lit up. "A dare devil ehh? Could always use more of you" she grabbed my arm pulling me up with ease "welcome to forward base one."
"Do endeavour to enjoy your flight, Comrade." I nod and smile the appropriate amount in thanks, quashing the reflex to raise an eyebrow in bemusement. The designated departure lounge is as to be expected, the walls of my cubicle a dull brass. The provided cress and spinach bap is sufficiently soft, and the council pop is tepid, within acceptable limitations. The complaints pull-cord is well oiled, but it shan't be required this morning. So far this journey has begun like any other, and these familiar comforts calm my racing heart. I shall forever regret my foolishness that led to this journey. Succumbing to frivolity has often been my downfall, as has not learning from past mistakes. Remembering the 'dare' I accepted so light-heartedly re-fills my chest with tension. A literal jolt shunts me from my spiralling thoughts. I tilt to my left as the cubicle starts to move. I'd been privileged enough to fly by Auto-Zeppelin before, and the routine nature of boarding calmed my jangled nerves. Once the rumbling of my cubicle's wheels on their track stops, my anticipation rises. I am curious to see who my fellow passengers were, to gain some inkling of our joint destination, and indeed how far we will go. The useless misprinted ticket was hidden in the waistcoat pocket of my standard travel wear set C. I have never seen a destination spelled with such headache-inducing glyphs. I hope the shame from possessing a faulty ticket will be masked by the shame of wearing a potentially incorrect clothing set. The upcoming interaction with the ticket inspector will be painful. My lack of knowledge regarding my final destination will be no excuse for flouting centuries old etiquette. My criminal desire to break decorum and talk to my fellow passengers grows as I wait longer and longer for the walls of my cubicle to descend. The wait is torturous. The brass wall of the cubicle just about reflects my pallid face. It is a blank ovoid floating before me, at once both appearing flat and impossibly deep. After some time I begin to eye the complaints cord with temptation. Its bold vermilion cotton a siren's call to my now restless hand. Something must be wrong with the Zepp for the cubicle to stay erect for so long; and I am yet to hear the movements of other cubicles. The anxiety I had been almost successfully supressing now surfaces in a quaking mass, watering my eyes and constricting my throat. My fingernails make no purchase against the cold, brass walls. No seam I find is pliable or workable, the mechanism being purely external. A nail bends backwards, pain twitching through to my fingertip. My fists are also useless, my skin far softer and weaker than the dull metal. My once dim reflection is smeared with shining blood, which slowly dries to an opaque black. I now am completely alone; no floating ovoid for company; the glass for my tepid tapoline the only companion in my tiny cell. My stomach yawns with hunger. My bowels are a void, dragging my organs into painful positions. My eyes are heavy and closed. The walls are forever erect. With effort I arrange myself into a respectable position, as befits a yet-to-be discovered corpse. This is as far as I go.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
You take the ticket and the attendants salute you and usher you onto the tarmac while taking your bags. Your excitement builds as you see more and more bewildered people lined up to board with you - a large man wearing a strange suit sporting a man bun, a young woman with her hair tied up neatly into two balls on her head reminiscent of a certain cartoon you remember from your childhood. The plane is arranged oddly into seats of three, and each passenger is assigned randomly to other people. Some groups were lucky to have friends, but you're sandwiched between the large man bun wearing man who seems to whisper something about his brother to you, and the meatball headed woman. Across from you is a woman clutching her arm with eyes as cold and dead as the cup of watery milk you left in the sink overnight because you were too lazy to wash it. Just going along for the ride, you close your eyes. The wind wakes you up as you realize the plane has reached a destination and the sounds of shrieks and screams slowly disappear after person after person falls from the plane. The large man next to you tells you to brace yourself as he yanks your seatbelt off and jumps, pointing at the runway below. "Let's go here." Uncertain of whether or not you'll be conscious when you hit the ground, you say a prayer for dear life and leave your life in the hands of the large man. Seconds pass, and the intensity of your fall seems to not slow down. As you fall, you see the rest of the passengers also plummeting towards certain doom, all while your stomach has found it's way to your legs. Seconds pass. You're about to splatter into the ground but... for some reason you dont feel a thing. Other passengers have landed around you and are running about in a frenzy, seemingly desperate for something... anything. As your senses come to, you look and see your only friend, the large man, running towards you, yelling something... "*Mozambique here!*"
"Do endeavour to enjoy your flight, Comrade." I nod and smile the appropriate amount in thanks, quashing the reflex to raise an eyebrow in bemusement. The designated departure lounge is as to be expected, the walls of my cubicle a dull brass. The provided cress and spinach bap is sufficiently soft, and the council pop is tepid, within acceptable limitations. The complaints pull-cord is well oiled, but it shan't be required this morning. So far this journey has begun like any other, and these familiar comforts calm my racing heart. I shall forever regret my foolishness that led to this journey. Succumbing to frivolity has often been my downfall, as has not learning from past mistakes. Remembering the 'dare' I accepted so light-heartedly re-fills my chest with tension. A literal jolt shunts me from my spiralling thoughts. I tilt to my left as the cubicle starts to move. I'd been privileged enough to fly by Auto-Zeppelin before, and the routine nature of boarding calmed my jangled nerves. Once the rumbling of my cubicle's wheels on their track stops, my anticipation rises. I am curious to see who my fellow passengers were, to gain some inkling of our joint destination, and indeed how far we will go. The useless misprinted ticket was hidden in the waistcoat pocket of my standard travel wear set C. I have never seen a destination spelled with such headache-inducing glyphs. I hope the shame from possessing a faulty ticket will be masked by the shame of wearing a potentially incorrect clothing set. The upcoming interaction with the ticket inspector will be painful. My lack of knowledge regarding my final destination will be no excuse for flouting centuries old etiquette. My criminal desire to break decorum and talk to my fellow passengers grows as I wait longer and longer for the walls of my cubicle to descend. The wait is torturous. The brass wall of the cubicle just about reflects my pallid face. It is a blank ovoid floating before me, at once both appearing flat and impossibly deep. After some time I begin to eye the complaints cord with temptation. Its bold vermilion cotton a siren's call to my now restless hand. Something must be wrong with the Zepp for the cubicle to stay erect for so long; and I am yet to hear the movements of other cubicles. The anxiety I had been almost successfully supressing now surfaces in a quaking mass, watering my eyes and constricting my throat. My fingernails make no purchase against the cold, brass walls. No seam I find is pliable or workable, the mechanism being purely external. A nail bends backwards, pain twitching through to my fingertip. My fists are also useless, my skin far softer and weaker than the dull metal. My once dim reflection is smeared with shining blood, which slowly dries to an opaque black. I now am completely alone; no floating ovoid for company; the glass for my tepid tapoline the only companion in my tiny cell. My stomach yawns with hunger. My bowels are a void, dragging my organs into painful positions. My eyes are heavy and closed. The walls are forever erect. With effort I arrange myself into a respectable position, as befits a yet-to-be discovered corpse. This is as far as I go.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
The Farthest Destination [Prologue] You lost a dare at an airport, which forces you to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize. ------ As you reached out to grab the ticket, the employee tightened his grip on the ticket with a widened stare.   “Did you see it?”, he repeated himself, a wide grin spreading across his old haggard face, emphasizing the wrinkles wrought upon it by time, like valleys carved into mountains by rivers that flowed for a million years.   A look of confusion swept your own face as you attempt to wrestle the ticket from his iron grip.   “Yes, uhh—“ you squinted at his name tag, “Larry. I do see the ticket. Very strange. Very exotic.”   His glassy eyes gloss over your facial expression as his grimace turned into a look of amusement.   “No no no, not the ticket,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal while walking away from his shift.   The ticket, it felt strange betwixt your fingers. Not exactly paper, not quite plastic, but utterly revolting to the touch. In fact, the texture feels unworldly, slimy without the slime, yet coarse without the grain. But despite the unsettling experience of holding the ticket, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off its symbolic inscriptions which took place of regular alphabets.   The placement of the flight details on the strange ticket are otherwise where they should be, as inferred from the ticket you retrieved from your front coat pocket—A flight to Boston, Texas, on a trip to visit Alice’s family. Shaking your head, you replaced the ticket to Boston back into your pocket with a look of confused anguish as you made your way back to Alice and her sister, Jana.   “So, what did you get over there Gulliver?” Jana looked up with an impish grin. This was mostly her idea, after all, and you can tell that she is getting a lot of amusement from this.   “Hahaha, except Gulliver was a sailor whom I am positive was doped up on psychedelic mushrooms,” you replied as you showed them the strange ticket you obtained.   Alice glanced over from the novel she was reading.   “That’s the ticket to Boston, dear.”   You looked down to find the strange ticket gone, replaced with the one from your pocket.   “Huh,” you grunted as you pat down the other pockets on your coat, down to the pockets on your jeans.   Gone.   “See Alice! I told you he was full of shit!” Jana exclaimed while laughing, slumping back in glee as she resumed her game on Alice’s portable gaming console.   Your face lit up with sudden realization that you did not actually pay for the strange ticket either.   “I need a drink of water,” you remarked dryly as you trotted off towards a dispenser.   As you bend over to take a cooling sip of water, the imagery of the tickets’ foreign inscriptions continue to float in your mind.   (Gate.) ((86.)) (((*Concourse.*))) ((((*G.*))))   --------------------   “Did you see it?”   As if a spell was broken, you jerked up violently, spinning your body around to find a woman talking on her cell phone as she walked past you towards the ladies’ restroom. She eyed you with a look of surprise that is warranted for your sudden movements.   “Gate 86, Concourse G,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way back to the concourse hallway.   Alice and Jana are awaiting the flight to Boston in Gate 82, and this is indeed Concourse G.   You hurried down the hallway in the direction where the Gate number increases.   81, 82, 83, 84— You stopped short, utterly confused by a wall at the end of the long corridor. There were no more Gates beyond this point.   A sickening feeling manifested between your fingers as you brought up your flight ticket only to realize you were holding the strange ticket all this time. The symbols on the ticket dancing around, distorting into a multitude of geometry as your hands began trembling furiously.   You took a really deep blink, the shifting symbols of the ticket putting massive strain on your eyes.   ------------------------- As your eyes readjust to the world around you, you realized that everything around you was suddenly…       Peaceful.       The concourse was completely empty, an ambient neon glow softly caressing the corridor, dark from the lights slowly flickering out.   86, departure.   Every Gate as far as your eye can see was Gate 86, departure. Your heart sank to your feet as your mind fail to comprehend the non-sequitur series of events that just transpired.   “Attention,” a voice boomed over the intercom. It was a rich baritone, honey to the ears; but it felt like the quiet, soothing voice conveys in itself a deep, rooted form of madness.   “Calling all outgoing passengers in Gate 86,” the voice paused, “Larry Hugh, please report to the front desk.”   You glared at the intercom, then at the security cameras.   This has got to be one of Jana’s pranks right?   But how did she get the entire airport into it?   Without any other option, your body seemingly guided itself towards the front desk of Gate 86.   Which front desk? Which Gate 86?   Does it matter? They are ALL GATE 86. THEY ARE ALL. GATE. EIGHTY-FUCKING-SIX.   You brought up the ticket between both hands, tearing away at it in desperation as your body trudged along slowly, completely terrified by the horrifying possibilities awaiting you at the end of this journey.   The ticket, as if conscious, refuses to succumb to inexistence despite your fervent effort to rip it to shreds with your cold, trembling fingers. Every new edge a tear creates is replaced immediately by a piece that occurs perpendicular to the original tear.   The world around you began dissolving into a sequence of a beautifully terrifying display of wondrous colors and shapes; doors opening out into the same building, glass windows bending beyond its elastic capabilities and steel beams distorted into an architect’s wettest dreams.   The Sun and Moon setting a thousand times simultaneously before the closest star to Earth swelled up into a red giant and collapsing under its own gravity, swallowing the entire Solar System with it while you still tore away at the ticket, unable to part your attention away from it for fear that what you may see would drive your primitive brain into the endless spiral of derangement; and yet somehow, you were still completely aware of the supernatural events unraveling around you like a kaleidoscope.   -------------------- The voices of uncountable lives past and present rose up to a majestic crescendo,   the stars and cosmic entities screamed in anguish     as the night sky convulsed into a singularity       replaced by           a ringing tone that resonates through your skull;                     the sound of nothing was in itself                                     deafening.                                     --------------------- *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* Like a miracle, the ticket finally ripped apart and dissolved into the aether; all that remains was the void of darkness surrounding you, staring back at you just the same as you are staring into it. Your vision, completely blurred with tears.   I’m so tired.   You reached up to touch your bald head, your fingers delicately caressing your leathery face as you slowly drifted off into deep slumber; the ringing in your ears fading away like your consciousness. ----------------------       (((((*... How would you put this... What comes around? Something like that?*)))))       Blinking, you opened your eyes with a start, the ringing in your ear subsiding as your eyesight slowly returns to you.   ---------------------- [Epilogue]   "Did you see it?" your eyes widened in excitement as a grin spread across your winkled old face, a young man looks at you quizzically.   [End]
I sighed heavily, "This is some crap Nancy," as I slumped my shoulders and dragged myself to my feet, "farthest destination..." I muttered. I walked like a zombie to the registration desk, "Can I make purchases here?" I said not meeting the employees eyes as he looked up to acknowledge me. I glared at Nancy, this annoying woman with a short brown bob wig on, a frontal she said that cost her an 'arm and a leg'. In her retro styled stripped shirt and denim shorts, she smiled at up me so brightly, giving me two thumbs up. I smiled back knowing full well if I'm doing this bet I'm going all alone, while she meets Matt, Channer and Jada alone in L.A., and enjoys the time while I slum it somewhere. "Yes mam, how may I help you today," he said in a drawl that caught my attention, I was dumfounded for a moment as I looked over his face, his dark green eyes and unkempt bed ruffed looking black hair seemed to compliment his American Airways uniform so nicely along with his deeply tanned skin. I licked my slips as I eyed him, like an animal about to capture her pry creating a mini fantasy of me joining the mile high club at his hands in the planes restroom. "A ticket to your farthest destination, please," girlishly batting my eyes and looking at him with my "sexy face". "Are you alright mam?" his voice filled with confusion and concern, as he glanced at me whist typing away to find me the information I need. "Farthest place from here, Zaporozhye..." "I'll take it!" I yelled cutting him off mid-sentence, "run it to this card," I poked my card in his face, though that wasn't the only thing I wanted to poke in his face, and swiftly left before I said something to humiliate myself further, besides the lip bite and licking I was doing as I spoke to the gentleman. I walked back to Nancy triumphant ignoring the fact that my flirt tactic failed miserably. "Guess I'm going to, Zaporozhye." "Where's that?" "Not sure," I glanced at the ticket, "Ukraine." I slumped into my chair, I didn't pack for cold weather but I refuse to let Nancy see the fear in my eyes, as I thought of freezing to death as soon as I landed. Every possibility ran though my mind, getting a layover and having no where to say and freezing to death in my thin white beach cover cup, shorts and graphic t-shirt. ............................................................................................................................ That's it for me right now....I haven't written in years so don't know where I was going with this really, hope you like it.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
Only one on the plane and I'm still cant get in first class. I look at the ticket one last time trying to find out where I'm going. Google didn't tell me anything, reddit failed me, and I was still waiting for Yahoo answers. Or at least I was when I still had internet. Everything about this ride felt different than previous planes. Almost like the cabin as titled ever so slightly to the side. If there was a stewardess or any kind of customer service I'd. Have. Ordered something. My mind was drawn out the window. I saw the horizon. Not just any horizon. The horizon. The edge. The end point of our world. A solid wall of ice erupted out from the ocean easily putting the wall to shame in game of thrones. Once on top of it with ice spreading out in every direction I told myself that I was just going crazy. That we were just flying over Antarctica. That those crazy flat earthers weren't right. That was until I saw creature that looked more like a writhing mass of anger and hatred dart towards the plane. A massive set of jaws - one of many - was aimed at the cockpit only to be blasted out of the sky by blue fire and skewered by red lightning that turned to glass sticking with the creature as it fell to the cold ground below. Our savior was hardly any less fearsome. With a feathered wing span greater than the jet I was in, a tail that could crush a semi, and four legs I knew what the creature was before I saw its head. A dragon. A real dragon. The wall of ice came to an end. Rather than more artic waters there was a lush vibrant forest that didn't look like any forest I've seen. The trees were to big for that. The plane turned and I felt it turn leaning to the left and I gripped the seat harder than I gripped the couch at Mike's place when I had the worst trip ever. I had a feeling that this was going to be worse. Much much worse. The plane landed on a runway hidden in the forest there was no terminal no other planes. But the dragon was there. And so were other people. They buzzed about the plane unloading cargo I didnt even see. Then at long last the door was pulled open. A woman walked a gun that looked like it belonged to a super villian hung to her side and a spear that looked tight out of an anime was in her hand. She wore armor a sleek well suited mix between commando gear and medieval full plate. Her face was obscured by a large helmet that had horns jutting out from it. She stood taller than I thought judging me from behind that helmet her blue eyes almost glowing. With a hot breath she removed the helmet revealing her long red hair. I noticed that first because I like redheads and her hair was beautiful. Then I noticed those horns were a part of her head. And bits of red scales could be seen on her skin. She wasn't human. "Alright boy, howd you get here?" She spoke in an accent that was thick and unrecognizable. "Adventure, curiosity, study?" "A dare," I squeaked trying to hope I was still at Mike's. Her face lit up. "A dare devil ehh? Could always use more of you" she grabbed my arm pulling me up with ease "welcome to forward base one."
I sighed heavily, "This is some crap Nancy," as I slumped my shoulders and dragged myself to my feet, "farthest destination..." I muttered. I walked like a zombie to the registration desk, "Can I make purchases here?" I said not meeting the employees eyes as he looked up to acknowledge me. I glared at Nancy, this annoying woman with a short brown bob wig on, a frontal she said that cost her an 'arm and a leg'. In her retro styled stripped shirt and denim shorts, she smiled at up me so brightly, giving me two thumbs up. I smiled back knowing full well if I'm doing this bet I'm going all alone, while she meets Matt, Channer and Jada alone in L.A., and enjoys the time while I slum it somewhere. "Yes mam, how may I help you today," he said in a drawl that caught my attention, I was dumfounded for a moment as I looked over his face, his dark green eyes and unkempt bed ruffed looking black hair seemed to compliment his American Airways uniform so nicely along with his deeply tanned skin. I licked my slips as I eyed him, like an animal about to capture her pry creating a mini fantasy of me joining the mile high club at his hands in the planes restroom. "A ticket to your farthest destination, please," girlishly batting my eyes and looking at him with my "sexy face". "Are you alright mam?" his voice filled with confusion and concern, as he glanced at me whist typing away to find me the information I need. "Farthest place from here, Zaporozhye..." "I'll take it!" I yelled cutting him off mid-sentence, "run it to this card," I poked my card in his face, though that wasn't the only thing I wanted to poke in his face, and swiftly left before I said something to humiliate myself further, besides the lip bite and licking I was doing as I spoke to the gentleman. I walked back to Nancy triumphant ignoring the fact that my flirt tactic failed miserably. "Guess I'm going to, Zaporozhye." "Where's that?" "Not sure," I glanced at the ticket, "Ukraine." I slumped into my chair, I didn't pack for cold weather but I refuse to let Nancy see the fear in my eyes, as I thought of freezing to death as soon as I landed. Every possibility ran though my mind, getting a layover and having no where to say and freezing to death in my thin white beach cover cup, shorts and graphic t-shirt. ............................................................................................................................ That's it for me right now....I haven't written in years so don't know where I was going with this really, hope you like it.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
The Farthest Destination [Prologue] You lost a dare at an airport, which forces you to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize. ------ As you reached out to grab the ticket, the employee tightened his grip on the ticket with a widened stare.   “Did you see it?”, he repeated himself, a wide grin spreading across his old haggard face, emphasizing the wrinkles wrought upon it by time, like valleys carved into mountains by rivers that flowed for a million years.   A look of confusion swept your own face as you attempt to wrestle the ticket from his iron grip.   “Yes, uhh—“ you squinted at his name tag, “Larry. I do see the ticket. Very strange. Very exotic.”   His glassy eyes gloss over your facial expression as his grimace turned into a look of amusement.   “No no no, not the ticket,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal while walking away from his shift.   The ticket, it felt strange betwixt your fingers. Not exactly paper, not quite plastic, but utterly revolting to the touch. In fact, the texture feels unworldly, slimy without the slime, yet coarse without the grain. But despite the unsettling experience of holding the ticket, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off its symbolic inscriptions which took place of regular alphabets.   The placement of the flight details on the strange ticket are otherwise where they should be, as inferred from the ticket you retrieved from your front coat pocket—A flight to Boston, Texas, on a trip to visit Alice’s family. Shaking your head, you replaced the ticket to Boston back into your pocket with a look of confused anguish as you made your way back to Alice and her sister, Jana.   “So, what did you get over there Gulliver?” Jana looked up with an impish grin. This was mostly her idea, after all, and you can tell that she is getting a lot of amusement from this.   “Hahaha, except Gulliver was a sailor whom I am positive was doped up on psychedelic mushrooms,” you replied as you showed them the strange ticket you obtained.   Alice glanced over from the novel she was reading.   “That’s the ticket to Boston, dear.”   You looked down to find the strange ticket gone, replaced with the one from your pocket.   “Huh,” you grunted as you pat down the other pockets on your coat, down to the pockets on your jeans.   Gone.   “See Alice! I told you he was full of shit!” Jana exclaimed while laughing, slumping back in glee as she resumed her game on Alice’s portable gaming console.   Your face lit up with sudden realization that you did not actually pay for the strange ticket either.   “I need a drink of water,” you remarked dryly as you trotted off towards a dispenser.   As you bend over to take a cooling sip of water, the imagery of the tickets’ foreign inscriptions continue to float in your mind.   (Gate.) ((86.)) (((*Concourse.*))) ((((*G.*))))   --------------------   “Did you see it?”   As if a spell was broken, you jerked up violently, spinning your body around to find a woman talking on her cell phone as she walked past you towards the ladies’ restroom. She eyed you with a look of surprise that is warranted for your sudden movements.   “Gate 86, Concourse G,” you muttered under your breath as you made your way back to the concourse hallway.   Alice and Jana are awaiting the flight to Boston in Gate 82, and this is indeed Concourse G.   You hurried down the hallway in the direction where the Gate number increases.   81, 82, 83, 84— You stopped short, utterly confused by a wall at the end of the long corridor. There were no more Gates beyond this point.   A sickening feeling manifested between your fingers as you brought up your flight ticket only to realize you were holding the strange ticket all this time. The symbols on the ticket dancing around, distorting into a multitude of geometry as your hands began trembling furiously.   You took a really deep blink, the shifting symbols of the ticket putting massive strain on your eyes.   ------------------------- As your eyes readjust to the world around you, you realized that everything around you was suddenly…       Peaceful.       The concourse was completely empty, an ambient neon glow softly caressing the corridor, dark from the lights slowly flickering out.   86, departure.   Every Gate as far as your eye can see was Gate 86, departure. Your heart sank to your feet as your mind fail to comprehend the non-sequitur series of events that just transpired.   “Attention,” a voice boomed over the intercom. It was a rich baritone, honey to the ears; but it felt like the quiet, soothing voice conveys in itself a deep, rooted form of madness.   “Calling all outgoing passengers in Gate 86,” the voice paused, “Larry Hugh, please report to the front desk.”   You glared at the intercom, then at the security cameras.   This has got to be one of Jana’s pranks right?   But how did she get the entire airport into it?   Without any other option, your body seemingly guided itself towards the front desk of Gate 86.   Which front desk? Which Gate 86?   Does it matter? They are ALL GATE 86. THEY ARE ALL. GATE. EIGHTY-FUCKING-SIX.   You brought up the ticket between both hands, tearing away at it in desperation as your body trudged along slowly, completely terrified by the horrifying possibilities awaiting you at the end of this journey.   The ticket, as if conscious, refuses to succumb to inexistence despite your fervent effort to rip it to shreds with your cold, trembling fingers. Every new edge a tear creates is replaced immediately by a piece that occurs perpendicular to the original tear.   The world around you began dissolving into a sequence of a beautifully terrifying display of wondrous colors and shapes; doors opening out into the same building, glass windows bending beyond its elastic capabilities and steel beams distorted into an architect’s wettest dreams.   The Sun and Moon setting a thousand times simultaneously before the closest star to Earth swelled up into a red giant and collapsing under its own gravity, swallowing the entire Solar System with it while you still tore away at the ticket, unable to part your attention away from it for fear that what you may see would drive your primitive brain into the endless spiral of derangement; and yet somehow, you were still completely aware of the supernatural events unraveling around you like a kaleidoscope.   -------------------- The voices of uncountable lives past and present rose up to a majestic crescendo,   the stars and cosmic entities screamed in anguish     as the night sky convulsed into a singularity       replaced by           a ringing tone that resonates through your skull;                     the sound of nothing was in itself                                     deafening.                                     --------------------- *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* *Rip* Like a miracle, the ticket finally ripped apart and dissolved into the aether; all that remains was the void of darkness surrounding you, staring back at you just the same as you are staring into it. Your vision, completely blurred with tears.   I’m so tired.   You reached up to touch your bald head, your fingers delicately caressing your leathery face as you slowly drifted off into deep slumber; the ringing in your ears fading away like your consciousness. ----------------------       (((((*... How would you put this... What comes around? Something like that?*)))))       Blinking, you opened your eyes with a start, the ringing in your ear subsiding as your eyesight slowly returns to you.   ---------------------- [Epilogue]   "Did you see it?" your eyes widened in excitement as a grin spread across your winkled old face, a young man looks at you quizzically.   [End]
The scribblings on the ticket were not reminiscent of any language I had studied in my life. Being a Linguistics and Comparative Literature double major at Yale I have a large amount of experience dealing with language but this was something entirely alien to me. In one of my linguistics classes we even learned how to read and write in fictional languages such as Dothraki, Klingon, and Tolkien's elvish language, Sindarin. "Excuse me, I don't think my ticket was printed out correctly. The printer must be having issues." I placed the ticket back on the counter fully expecting the agent to validate my concerns. "I'm sorry for the confusion sir, the ticket is correct." Her head never lifting from the monitor as she typed away at a surprisingly brisk speed. The slight shakiness in her voice made my own anxieties begin to surface about the mistake. "Miss, you didn't even look at the ticket." I countered back with my discomfort rising within my chest. Her hands stopped typing as her stare met mine, though she seemed to be looking through me with the faintest tinge of sorrow. "Follow the hallway for A gates to the end and there will be a set of double doors with a scanner next to them, place the ticket under it and the doors will unlock for you. There will be an attendant inside who will help you from there." Her gaze shifted to my friends chuckling behind me. "You are the only one allowed through the doors, they will be escorted out if you bring them with you." "Well okay then, how much do I owe you?" I chocked out, my own speech less confident than when this interaction started. Her eyes returned to her computer unable to meet mine for even another second, "This one is on us, no payment is needed sir." Truly confused I returned to my friends and showed them the ticket which caused the same reaction as my own. After making it through security, we walked down the A gate hallway together my group continuing to harass me about my intended destination. As we arrived at the end of the walkway I saw the two doors the agent spoke of; they looked out of place, as if they were part of an old design of the airport and were not updated during a renovation. Each one of my group scanned his ticket before mine only for the machine to dole out the same buzz signaling an incorrect code. I placed the ticket underneath the scanner, no sound was returned from the machine only the click of the door unlocking for my passage through. I pulled on the handle and as the door swung open a cold breeze passed along my face telling me that it had been quite some time since another soul went down this way. I looked back at my friends as their smiles slowly left their faces with only awkward laughs between us, I waved goodbye as I stepped inside. Turning around I saw a short hallway with a desk and a single man standing behind it, his expression and features were obscured from the faulty lighting that permeated the tunnel. The walls had chips and were devoid of the promotional posters I was accustomed to when approaching the plane. I approached the desk now aware of how fast my heart was beating beneath my chest,the pounding echoing in my ears drowning out the clicking of my shoes along the floor. Reaching the desk I was relieved to see a younger looking agent and not someone, or something, which would put me even more on edge. His smile and even tone were comforting as he checked my ticket and driver's license writing down my information on a piece of paper out of my view. He returned my items to me thanking me for producing them without bogging him down with incessant questions. He instructed me to follow him around the single corner behind the desk, I nodded following the man toward my plane. As I rounded the corner the reality hit me that since entering the corridor I had not heard the familiar whirling of warming engines. A lone metal door greeted me around the bend, though decorated beautifully with trimmings and inscriptions of gold I felt nothing but unease emanating from sight of the unfamiliar writing again. The agent smiled sensing my anxiety and slowly pushed the door ajar as there was no handle, keyhole, or other means of opening it. My mind and heart were both racing and I turned around entertaining the idea of running back to the entryway reuniting with my friends, the utter terror and disbelief I felt overwhelming as the sight before me was a unending hallway devoid of a means of escape. My trance broke as the agent's arm ushered me inside pushing me from my upper back, there was no warmth or familiarity of touch from the man, simply a force directing me inside. My eyes adjusted to the intense light within and the sense of warm air surrounded my body. An island beset with lush green grass, tall trees, and the crystal clear blue ocean met me on the other side. Awe took over my mind as I had not seen such pristine beauty in my life, I could feel my fear melt as the breeze danced across my body warming the cold sweat on my brow. I turned my head hoping to ask the agent what all of this was only to see the unending ocean behind me, returning the sense of dread all too quickly. "I have not had someone inhabit these lands in quite some time." The voice was all-encompassing, it was all around me, in my private thoughts, and somehow directly behind me all at once. "The last two I had to remove as I do not take kindly to those who break my trust and rules, though for you I have removed such temptations." Frozen in place staring into the horizon beyond the sea my final feelings of hope and safety died within my chest. "Welcome John, to Paradise" the slight smirk of the speaker all to apparent.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I just had to ask for the ticket, that was the dare. At 21, am I too old for dares? Probably. But there was me, a 6ft tall skinny male with black hair, approaching the kiosk. “Hi, how can I help?” asked the young female behind the desk. “1 Ticket to the farthest destination please” I replied. “Of course sir, Gate 14 when you are ready sir” she said, pressing some buttons. The printer made the usual noises and I grabbed the ticket. I looked at the ticket, destination NA. What? But I’ve always been so curious. I return to my excited friends. “I got a ticket. I’m going to go” I said quietly. “What? You’ll miss our holiday! Where are you even going?” one of them asked. “I don’t know yet, but I have to find out. Please let me go” I said quietly. They seemed to look confused, but one of them nodded. When I showed my ticket to security, then quickly ushered me through, skipping the line. They didn’t check my bag or anything. When I walked to the far side of the airport, gate 14, it was so quite. Not a single other passenger. Just a single young female waiting at the open gate. “Right aboard, Sir”. She said. And then a saw it. The luxury private Jet. Sweet. I walked through the gate and climbed the steps up to the jet. As I went in the door was closed behind me from the outside. I quickly took in my new surroundings, luxury sofas, tables, wine glasses etc. A young female dressed in black leather with black hair quickly paces towards me and before I know it her arms are around me, hugging me. “You’re actually alive, my goodness” she said, then quickly released her grip, brushing off her arms. “Very sorry sir. Got a bit overexcited there” she said shyly. “It’s ok” I reply. “Sit down, please, we can take off and talk. Got some catching up to do” she says. I sit on one of the sofas and carefully place my bag in a stowaway, securing it. “Hope you came prepared Sir” she comments. “Er, yeah, of course” I reply shyly. We suddenly take off at great speed. “Anyway, you are alive! I told them to prepare just in case. They even showed me the mutilated body, not a pleasant site I must say. But as soon as the autopsy showed cancer, I just knew, it was a voluntary decoy, right?” she said. “Yeah, of course” I reply with fake confidence. “It was wearing one of those fancy facemasks, but…” she pauses and stares very hard at my face, inching her head forward. “You’re not? That’s the real deal isn’t it? Your real face. You must have figured they can detect the masks somehow. Damn you are good! And oh my, revealing your true identity for one last mission to save the world! I love it!” she says. “Yep, my real face” I say. I’m way in over my depth, but I figure at this point, I just have to go along with it. “Alright, on with business, we are nearly there. As you know you need to take out the Queen, using any means necessary. Once that’s done just fire off this flair” She says grabbing taking my luggage bag out of storage and putting a red tube in one of the outer pockets. I nod shyly. “You have 6 hours, or else we’ll be forced to assume… you know. And we’ll have to nuke the place. They still haven’t decided how they’ll try and cover that up yet. It’ll cause a lot of political trouble, and you know, you’ll be…. Anyway I have full faith in you, Sir” she says, putting a large black rucksack on my back, and stuffing my luggage handle into my hand. “Hold onto your luggage tight with your right hand, once you’re out the plane use you left hand to pull the red cord hard” she says indicating towards the red cord. “It’s of course protocol I remind you this sir, even though this is what, mission 205 now?” she asks. “Yep” I reply, nervous. She opens the door and the wind rushes in. “Good luck Sir. 3, 2, 1, jump!” she shouted. Somehow my legs seemed to go through the relevant motion without me actually telling them to and before I knew it I was plunging through the air. I desperately reached for the red cord and tugged hard. Out came the parachute, and my descent slowed. I managed to breathe again. I seemed to be approaching a tropical island in the middle of the ocean. I notice one large concrete building in the middle and a small port of various luxury boats to the north, with its own large building. I land near a south beach and take off my Shute. I quickly rummage through my luggage bag. Spare clothes and various standard holiday stuff. A bit too heavy to carry comfortably. I pocket the red tube and decide to leave the luggage. I look around. And that’s when I saw one. A large red spider creature with claws instead of legs, about half my size with sharp fangs. I stood still in fear as it approached me, but then it seemed to scurry off. What the heck. What is this place? I figure I better head to the central building. As I walk a see several more creatures, equally scary, but they don’t seem to disturb me. Eventually I approach a door to the central building and notice above the door is a sign that says “Lab”. The door has a single green button on the side which I press. The door mechanically opens to reveal a lighted room with a second door a few feet forward with a second button. As I step forward the first door closes behind me. I press the button to open the second door which opens. As I walk through I take in my surroundings. Some kind of ruined laboratory. Broken glass enclosures scattered throughout, broken vials with strange liquids, etc. “Don’t touch anything” says a voice. A young male with spiky black hair wearing a lab coat walks around the corner. He looks and me and pauses, looking thoughtful. We stand silent for about a minute. “Ok”. He says. He grabs a syringe from a desk. “First things first, I’m a friend and won’t hurt you. You need to trust me if you want to live. This island has diseases you’ve not even heard of. Years of illegal experimentation. I need to vaccinate you, now” he says, approaching me. I hold out my arm and let him. “Ow! Who are you?” I ask. “Dr Tepac” he says. “Erm ok. What do you know?” I ask. “I’m responsible for the creatures you’ve seen. But as you’ve seen, it’s possible to cohabit with them peacefully. They are very intelligent. They know if you want to harm them. They can read minds. And I can too. I know who you are and why you were sent here, so let me be very clear. You are not a spy. You have no weapons. Here’s what you’ll do if you want to leave this island alive. You’ll take this” he says sternly handed me a gas canister. “… You’ll head to the docks, via the building. When you’re in the building you won’t look up at the ceiling. You’ll head towards the boats. The creatures use the boats as transport and yes I am serious. When approaching the boats the creatures will become aggressive. You’ll pull the pin on the canister and lob it into the middle of the room. The canister contains a gas they really like, it’s basically chocolate to them. They’ll accept it as an offering and let you board a boat. You’ll leave and never return.” He explains sternly. “But… the nuke?” I ask. “That’ll fail. These creatures are already everywhere. They’ll sabotage the bomber if needed. It’s just self-defence, you have to understand. Humanity will have to learn to peacefully coexist with… the creatures.” He says. I gulp. “I understand” I reply. Head low I leave the building. As I walk towards the dock, I look at the red cylinder and think of the pretty black-haired lady. I hope she doesn’t get hurt. Before long, I’m at the door to the dock building. I open the door and quickly see a room almost full of the things. I carefully step in. I walk slowly forward towards the boats as they start to clatter their claws. “I mean no harm. I brought some… chocolate? I just want to get to a boat and leave… please?” I say. I carefully pull the pin and lob the canister to the centre of the room. The gas quickly starts to fill the room. Suddenly the creatures start dropping to the floor. I look at the walls and they are falling off lifeless. Then I look at the celling and see it. A really big one in some kind of nest and suddenly it falls to the floor. Splat. I start coughing as the gas fills my lungs. I feel faint. “Sir?” I hear a familiar female voice. I wake up in some kind of hospital room and look round to see the black haired lady and Dr Tupac. “It’s ok sir, he explained everything. He vaccinated you against the gas, but it still hit you pretty bad. You’ll be ok though. Somehow you did it Sir, you killed the Queen.” She says. A voice speaks inside my head. “Hey, it’s me Dr Tupac. I’ve learned to commutate telepathically. The creatures, they were mind readers, but couldn’t read me through the concrete lab walls. I was able to prepare some kind of solution, but how could anyone deliver that solution, unless they were truly innocent, truly ignorant. You were perfect. Thank you. I’m going to ask if you’ve forgotten anything, and you are going to say your training” says the voice. “Unfortunately there may have been some side effects, such as memory loss, have you forgotten anything?” asks Mr Tupac out loud. “Yes.. it’s kinda awkward, my training is a bit of a wash I’m afraid, and all my previous missions…” I say shyly. “It’s ok sir, we’ll get you back up to your former self in no time and my names Delilah, in case you forgot” says the black haired girl, Delilah. “Thanks” I say. An old man with grey hair and a black suit walks into the room. “Thought I’d visit in person” he says. He looks at me. “How are you?” he asks. “Good thanks, Sir” I say. “Congratulations, Agent” he replies.
​ “Another four hours,” Richard grumbled, taking his seat next to me again. He had been up and down to the departures screen like a ping-pong ball. The snowstorm that had set in didn’t just affect us, the airport was packed with people, experiencing varying degrees of frustration. “Maybe we should just call it quits, take the free night in the hotel?” I suggested. I’m a patient person, but it depends on the kind of waiting that I have to do. I’ll happily wait a full day to get on a flight tomorrow, if it means leaving the airport now and going to stay at a hotel where there are considerably less screaming children. “No, no. I need to get home, it’s just four hours, we’ll be fine. Look, we just need to pass the time, do you want to get some food?” I pointed out that we just ate. Richard sighed. “Alright then. Odds?” I laughed. “Fine, but you always lose.” For the un-initiated, odds is a game, born out of either boredom, or alcohol, where one person suggests a dare, based on the severity a range of numbers are picked, so if it’s a relatively easy, harmless dare, the number range might be 1 to 5, for something that might get you arrested it’d be 1-1,000. Both parties think of a number in that range, and then countdown from 3 and say their number. If the numbers are the same, the person has to complete the dare. “Hold, on let me have a think about it for a second.” Richard leaned back in his chair (as much as he could, this was an airport after all), and put a finger to the tip of his nose, something he did when deep in thought. A slow smile crept over his face. I started to laugh. “What have you got?” “Alright,” he said. “Odds of you going up to the ticket desk and asking for a ticket to the farthest destination.” He turned to look at me, a picture of seriousness. I carefully contemplated the ridiculous dare. On the one hand, it was relatively harmless, on the other, it was extremely embarrassing, not to mention it involved an airport employee that was quite possibly having the worst day of their life. “100,” I said. “Seriously? Just for that?” “Yup. Take it or leave it.” “Ugh, fine.” With that, we both adjusted in our seats to face each other, and held eye contact as we both counted down. “3, 2, 1.. 73!” I couldn’t believe it. Richard had fallen off his seat and was now laughing on the floor. Blood started to creep up my neck and redden my face at the prospect of what I had to do. “Well,” Richard said through laughter, “after you!” Thinking that it was best to get it over and done with, I walked up to the counter. The lady behind the desk looked up and smiled apprehensively, worried that I was another person here to complain. “Hi, uh, I’d like to buy a ticket to the furthest destination please.” The lady froze, but only for a moment. “You’d like…” “A ticket to your farthest destination, yes.” Why was I reiterating? I had already asked. The dare was done. “One moment please, sir.” The lady suddenly made for a door just behind the desk, but not before throwing a backwards glance at me. A nervous one. I looked back at Richard, who was sitting at the seats, still laughing, and he gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up. It might as well have been a middle finger. I contemplated going back over to him, but thought that I should stay and explain the situation to this lady that was clearly having a horrible time with customers. When the door opened it wasn’t the lady who returned. At least, not just her, but another woman, dressed, not in an airline uniform, but in a suit. The other lady was behind her, almost hiding. The suited woman procured a metallic, thin plate from inside her jacket pocket and handed it to me. “Your ticket, sir.” I was lost. I found myself looking at the ticket, and saw that it had patterns adorning one side of it. It looked like Mandarin maybe, but none of the lines, or dots ever joined each other, the all seemed to be floating independently, without any kind of uniformity. “What is this?” I asked. “Your ticket,” she replied. “To where though?” She smiled, “Home, sir.” The lady behind her flinched, and that’s when I felt a pressure on my neck, and everything went dark. A loud bang and the sound of rushing wind woke me. Everything was blurry, and dark. I tried to move but couldn’t. My head was pounding. I blinked furiously, my eyes clearing with every try. Then a blinding light. Then darkness. I started panicking. I called out, or tried, but no sound left my mouth, only a mist. That’s when I felt the cold. Another blinding light. Then darkness. But my eyes were adjusting. Gradually. I was in some sort of capsule. It was small. I couldn’t stretch out my legs fully even if I wanted to without touching the wall in front of me. Another light from the left. It was through a glass next to me. A mirror? No. A window. But it was just dark. I looked to the other side and there was another window. I could see something outside. Something that terrified me. Earth. I screamed but no sound came out, only the mist.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I just had to ask for the ticket, that was the dare. At 21, am I too old for dares? Probably. But there was me, a 6ft tall skinny male with black hair, approaching the kiosk. “Hi, how can I help?” asked the young female behind the desk. “1 Ticket to the farthest destination please” I replied. “Of course sir, Gate 14 when you are ready sir” she said, pressing some buttons. The printer made the usual noises and I grabbed the ticket. I looked at the ticket, destination NA. What? But I’ve always been so curious. I return to my excited friends. “I got a ticket. I’m going to go” I said quietly. “What? You’ll miss our holiday! Where are you even going?” one of them asked. “I don’t know yet, but I have to find out. Please let me go” I said quietly. They seemed to look confused, but one of them nodded. When I showed my ticket to security, then quickly ushered me through, skipping the line. They didn’t check my bag or anything. When I walked to the far side of the airport, gate 14, it was so quite. Not a single other passenger. Just a single young female waiting at the open gate. “Right aboard, Sir”. She said. And then a saw it. The luxury private Jet. Sweet. I walked through the gate and climbed the steps up to the jet. As I went in the door was closed behind me from the outside. I quickly took in my new surroundings, luxury sofas, tables, wine glasses etc. A young female dressed in black leather with black hair quickly paces towards me and before I know it her arms are around me, hugging me. “You’re actually alive, my goodness” she said, then quickly released her grip, brushing off her arms. “Very sorry sir. Got a bit overexcited there” she said shyly. “It’s ok” I reply. “Sit down, please, we can take off and talk. Got some catching up to do” she says. I sit on one of the sofas and carefully place my bag in a stowaway, securing it. “Hope you came prepared Sir” she comments. “Er, yeah, of course” I reply shyly. We suddenly take off at great speed. “Anyway, you are alive! I told them to prepare just in case. They even showed me the mutilated body, not a pleasant site I must say. But as soon as the autopsy showed cancer, I just knew, it was a voluntary decoy, right?” she said. “Yeah, of course” I reply with fake confidence. “It was wearing one of those fancy facemasks, but…” she pauses and stares very hard at my face, inching her head forward. “You’re not? That’s the real deal isn’t it? Your real face. You must have figured they can detect the masks somehow. Damn you are good! And oh my, revealing your true identity for one last mission to save the world! I love it!” she says. “Yep, my real face” I say. I’m way in over my depth, but I figure at this point, I just have to go along with it. “Alright, on with business, we are nearly there. As you know you need to take out the Queen, using any means necessary. Once that’s done just fire off this flair” She says grabbing taking my luggage bag out of storage and putting a red tube in one of the outer pockets. I nod shyly. “You have 6 hours, or else we’ll be forced to assume… you know. And we’ll have to nuke the place. They still haven’t decided how they’ll try and cover that up yet. It’ll cause a lot of political trouble, and you know, you’ll be…. Anyway I have full faith in you, Sir” she says, putting a large black rucksack on my back, and stuffing my luggage handle into my hand. “Hold onto your luggage tight with your right hand, once you’re out the plane use you left hand to pull the red cord hard” she says indicating towards the red cord. “It’s of course protocol I remind you this sir, even though this is what, mission 205 now?” she asks. “Yep” I reply, nervous. She opens the door and the wind rushes in. “Good luck Sir. 3, 2, 1, jump!” she shouted. Somehow my legs seemed to go through the relevant motion without me actually telling them to and before I knew it I was plunging through the air. I desperately reached for the red cord and tugged hard. Out came the parachute, and my descent slowed. I managed to breathe again. I seemed to be approaching a tropical island in the middle of the ocean. I notice one large concrete building in the middle and a small port of various luxury boats to the north, with its own large building. I land near a south beach and take off my Shute. I quickly rummage through my luggage bag. Spare clothes and various standard holiday stuff. A bit too heavy to carry comfortably. I pocket the red tube and decide to leave the luggage. I look around. And that’s when I saw one. A large red spider creature with claws instead of legs, about half my size with sharp fangs. I stood still in fear as it approached me, but then it seemed to scurry off. What the heck. What is this place? I figure I better head to the central building. As I walk a see several more creatures, equally scary, but they don’t seem to disturb me. Eventually I approach a door to the central building and notice above the door is a sign that says “Lab”. The door has a single green button on the side which I press. The door mechanically opens to reveal a lighted room with a second door a few feet forward with a second button. As I step forward the first door closes behind me. I press the button to open the second door which opens. As I walk through I take in my surroundings. Some kind of ruined laboratory. Broken glass enclosures scattered throughout, broken vials with strange liquids, etc. “Don’t touch anything” says a voice. A young male with spiky black hair wearing a lab coat walks around the corner. He looks and me and pauses, looking thoughtful. We stand silent for about a minute. “Ok”. He says. He grabs a syringe from a desk. “First things first, I’m a friend and won’t hurt you. You need to trust me if you want to live. This island has diseases you’ve not even heard of. Years of illegal experimentation. I need to vaccinate you, now” he says, approaching me. I hold out my arm and let him. “Ow! Who are you?” I ask. “Dr Tepac” he says. “Erm ok. What do you know?” I ask. “I’m responsible for the creatures you’ve seen. But as you’ve seen, it’s possible to cohabit with them peacefully. They are very intelligent. They know if you want to harm them. They can read minds. And I can too. I know who you are and why you were sent here, so let me be very clear. You are not a spy. You have no weapons. Here’s what you’ll do if you want to leave this island alive. You’ll take this” he says sternly handed me a gas canister. “… You’ll head to the docks, via the building. When you’re in the building you won’t look up at the ceiling. You’ll head towards the boats. The creatures use the boats as transport and yes I am serious. When approaching the boats the creatures will become aggressive. You’ll pull the pin on the canister and lob it into the middle of the room. The canister contains a gas they really like, it’s basically chocolate to them. They’ll accept it as an offering and let you board a boat. You’ll leave and never return.” He explains sternly. “But… the nuke?” I ask. “That’ll fail. These creatures are already everywhere. They’ll sabotage the bomber if needed. It’s just self-defence, you have to understand. Humanity will have to learn to peacefully coexist with… the creatures.” He says. I gulp. “I understand” I reply. Head low I leave the building. As I walk towards the dock, I look at the red cylinder and think of the pretty black-haired lady. I hope she doesn’t get hurt. Before long, I’m at the door to the dock building. I open the door and quickly see a room almost full of the things. I carefully step in. I walk slowly forward towards the boats as they start to clatter their claws. “I mean no harm. I brought some… chocolate? I just want to get to a boat and leave… please?” I say. I carefully pull the pin and lob the canister to the centre of the room. The gas quickly starts to fill the room. Suddenly the creatures start dropping to the floor. I look at the walls and they are falling off lifeless. Then I look at the celling and see it. A really big one in some kind of nest and suddenly it falls to the floor. Splat. I start coughing as the gas fills my lungs. I feel faint. “Sir?” I hear a familiar female voice. I wake up in some kind of hospital room and look round to see the black haired lady and Dr Tupac. “It’s ok sir, he explained everything. He vaccinated you against the gas, but it still hit you pretty bad. You’ll be ok though. Somehow you did it Sir, you killed the Queen.” She says. A voice speaks inside my head. “Hey, it’s me Dr Tupac. I’ve learned to commutate telepathically. The creatures, they were mind readers, but couldn’t read me through the concrete lab walls. I was able to prepare some kind of solution, but how could anyone deliver that solution, unless they were truly innocent, truly ignorant. You were perfect. Thank you. I’m going to ask if you’ve forgotten anything, and you are going to say your training” says the voice. “Unfortunately there may have been some side effects, such as memory loss, have you forgotten anything?” asks Mr Tupac out loud. “Yes.. it’s kinda awkward, my training is a bit of a wash I’m afraid, and all my previous missions…” I say shyly. “It’s ok sir, we’ll get you back up to your former self in no time and my names Delilah, in case you forgot” says the black haired girl, Delilah. “Thanks” I say. An old man with grey hair and a black suit walks into the room. “Thought I’d visit in person” he says. He looks at me. “How are you?” he asks. “Good thanks, Sir” I say. “Congratulations, Agent” he replies.
I’ll take one ticket to the farthest place possible, I remember asking the quiet woman at the flight counter. It was only meant to be a joke, but instead of laughing it off, she typed into her computer for a moment and then printed out a boarding pass. She handed the white ticket to me, and although I didn’t know what to say, I took it from her hands. I remember the ticket felt strange to the touch, like it was made from some sort of feathery paper. My wife and I often went on trips abroad, and I served a couple tours overseas when I was in the military, but none of the boarding passes felt quite like this one. I looked at the ticket itself, but couldn’t really make out the text, like the ink was squirming and morphing, trying to escape the paper. I remember I somehow made my way through the labyrinthine airport, through security, the terminal, and the bright, still runway. I don’t think I considered much during the journey, as the only thing my eyes fixated on was the strange boarding pass. There was something wrong with it, and my thumb continued to run across its surface. I remember I was the only one in the flight, but for some reason I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t important, I thought, since this flight was created only for me. I sat down and got comfortable. My index finger drew circles around the peculiar boarding pass. I remember the flight soared far above the clouds, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and our unborn child. I was so scared to think of having a child in our life, but finally I was starting to accept the possibility, and I wondered what to name him if he was a boy. I tried bending the boarding pass between my middle and ring fingers. I remember how I was suddenly hit by apprehension at some point in the flight, wondering where I was going and when I would be able to come back. I cried and cried, and begged the flight attendants to land the flight, but they never looked me in the eyes. I crumpled up the boarding pass. I remember thinking back to all the mistakes I made before this moment. The people I betrayed and the things I abandoned. Was it ever possible to take back the things I threw away. I once again tried to read the boarding pass. I remember considering suicide in the airplane cabin. Where would I go if I died up here. Would I be able to go back? I tore the corner off the boarding pass. I remember wondering how old my child was these days. Do you think they found happiness? Do you think they remained faithful to their loved ones. I really hope they do. I straightened out the tattered boarding pass. I think about all of this every now and then as I fiddle with the strange piece of paper in my hands. All I can hear now and all I will be able to hear is the hum of the engine and the vast silence of the skies.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
AT25. It was a very strange airport code. I had never seen a 4 digit airport code before and certainly not one with numbers. I turned back to the desk attendant confused. "Umm which country is this airport in again?" "None of them," she answered as though it should have been obvious. "And don't forget your jacket. It'll be cold this time of year." She added almost as an afterthought. This had originally been a dare, but now I was curious. Just where was this ticket going to take me? The flight departed from Anchorage at 11 AM. I was the only passenger on the flight and the plane was very old. It was some sort of 4 engine propeller plane. It was extremely cold in the plane and the only refreshments were a couple of sandwiches and some water bottles. After about 20 hours we stopped at a small airfield. The pilot said that he needed to refuel the plane or something like that. We were soon back in the air. It was unbelievably boring. The only other passenger was a pallet of cargo. The writing on the pallet was in Japanese, so I had no idea where we were going. After another 20 hours we finally landed. It had been almost two days since I left Anchorage. "We've now arrive in Syowa, Antarctica. I hope you enjoyed our 11,850 mile trip." I had originally planned on going to Florida. I was so fucked.
I’ll take one ticket to the farthest place possible, I remember asking the quiet woman at the flight counter. It was only meant to be a joke, but instead of laughing it off, she typed into her computer for a moment and then printed out a boarding pass. She handed the white ticket to me, and although I didn’t know what to say, I took it from her hands. I remember the ticket felt strange to the touch, like it was made from some sort of feathery paper. My wife and I often went on trips abroad, and I served a couple tours overseas when I was in the military, but none of the boarding passes felt quite like this one. I looked at the ticket itself, but couldn’t really make out the text, like the ink was squirming and morphing, trying to escape the paper. I remember I somehow made my way through the labyrinthine airport, through security, the terminal, and the bright, still runway. I don’t think I considered much during the journey, as the only thing my eyes fixated on was the strange boarding pass. There was something wrong with it, and my thumb continued to run across its surface. I remember I was the only one in the flight, but for some reason I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t important, I thought, since this flight was created only for me. I sat down and got comfortable. My index finger drew circles around the peculiar boarding pass. I remember the flight soared far above the clouds, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and our unborn child. I was so scared to think of having a child in our life, but finally I was starting to accept the possibility, and I wondered what to name him if he was a boy. I tried bending the boarding pass between my middle and ring fingers. I remember how I was suddenly hit by apprehension at some point in the flight, wondering where I was going and when I would be able to come back. I cried and cried, and begged the flight attendants to land the flight, but they never looked me in the eyes. I crumpled up the boarding pass. I remember thinking back to all the mistakes I made before this moment. The people I betrayed and the things I abandoned. Was it ever possible to take back the things I threw away. I once again tried to read the boarding pass. I remember considering suicide in the airplane cabin. Where would I go if I died up here. Would I be able to go back? I tore the corner off the boarding pass. I remember wondering how old my child was these days. Do you think they found happiness? Do you think they remained faithful to their loved ones. I really hope they do. I straightened out the tattered boarding pass. I think about all of this every now and then as I fiddle with the strange piece of paper in my hands. All I can hear now and all I will be able to hear is the hum of the engine and the vast silence of the skies.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I didn't know these letterforms: Georgian, maybe? Or Tibetan? They were printed where the airport call letters would've been, so I gave a thin grin at the attendant before carrying on to check my bag. "Safe travels," she said. Arnie skipped along beside me, her carry on stowed over her shoulder, a shit-eating grin on her face. She heaved her checked purple duffle onto the conveyor belt. "Told you we could get a vacation without making any plans. All right, now shoot me before we go through security." I watched my hard pack vanish between the vinyl slats into the airport's violent sorting labyrinth with a quiver of alarm, as I always experienced when parted from my belongings. I whipped out my phone, though, and set it to video. Arnie held up her ticket to show the viewers, then bobbed back, walking backwards beside the luggage roller. "Tim Wiz, challenge accepted and challenge defeated! We went and asked Best Jet for one ticket to their furthest destination and now we're on our way! Check this wild shit out, curly letters, am I right? Well, I'll see you all on the other side of security, fam!" "This is nuts," I said, shoving my phone back into my backpack. "You were down when the idea was to try go to Turkey," she said. "That took getting an entire visa." "You know, since they didn't ask for any of that paperwork," I said, "we're probably going to end up in, like, Yellowknife, you know. Bet all this curly nonsense is just a print error." "Last time I took a bet, I ended up at the airport ordering tickets to the furthest place from here!" Arnie held her ticket out to the security attendant, whose face grew immediately more serious. "Line A," he said. We snaked through the queue, only to be intercepted by another airport security officer before we could reach the table of infinite rolling laptop shenanigans. "This is just a random check," they assured us, one grabbing Arnie's arm, one mine, guiding us off to the side to a holding room before we could really make any objections. "You're not trying to escape from anything, honey?" one of the security staff asked. I was touched by her concern, but Arnie beat me to piping up, saying, "Nah, see, I run a YouTube adventure channel where we travel all over the world and make videos! And we accept challenges here in Canada too, of course, and a friend of mine dared us to ask for the ticket to the furthest place. Promise you we're not trying to escape from a life of crime or an abusive boyfriend, honest." "Were we flagged?" "It's just a random check," the airport staff member said. "Your destination is... unusual for someone in your demographic." Arnie gasped. "You mean this is racism? We're being flagged for our destination? Do you think we're going to join Isis?" "Are we being detained? Is this customs?" I asked. "We're just going to run a few checks," the officer said. "And you, why are you going?" "Well, I don't have anything going for me right now so when Arnie invited me to go on a vacation," I said, "stars just seemed to align." The staff member opened up a mini fridge and removed a couple of bottles of water, handing one to Arnie and one to me. "It will just be a few moments." Then she vanished from the room. I cracked open the bottle of water and enjoyed its refreshing coolness. "Grab your camera," she said. I obliged. "Hey fam," Arnie crooned into the camera. "We're being detained for being weird! Gonna check out our baggage for drugs, I bet. Hope we don't miss our flight to an unknown destination!" She signaled the cut and I ended the take. Then Arnie twisted open her water bottle and chugged it with a sigh. "Ah, that's nice," she said. We sat for a few minutes before I said, "Want me to film anything else? Arnie?" When she didn't reply with immediate gusto, I craned my head back to look at her and found her sprawled out on the chair, head til back as far as it would go, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the roof. Holy mother of burritos, I had no idea what was going on here, a seizure? Had she been poisoned? I seized her water bottle; its label was pink and mine was blue, I'd thought that was mere sexist stereotyping. The door swung open and the attendant walked in, holding another ticket in her hands. "Thank gods you're back," I said. "My friend's having some kind of medical emergency..." She didn't seem to care all that much, grabbing the original ticket printed and replacing it with this new one. I squinted at the letters and just made out the name "Churchill", a Canadian city, something perfectly normal. Perhaps I'd been right and there was a misprint? Yet she only brought one replacement. "Excuse me?" She seemed to notice me then, and tapped a few buttons to open a panel on the wall. "Right this way, please." Some authority obedience instinct made my legs move that way and a frosted glass panel snapped shut, trapping me on the other side. Then her attention was off me again, back on Arnie, who she woke with a snap. I pounded on the door, but the sound was muffled. Arnie's eyes were still glazed as though she were under a glamor, but in the midst of it all she focused clearly on the woman's hypnotic eyes. "I'm sorry for detaining you," the woman said sweetly. "Your trip to Churchill, Manitoba all checks out. Have a nice flight." "Arnie!" I yelled, but she seemed oblivious to my plight. Robotic, Arnie rose up and left the room, making for the security lineup. Her phone made it into her hands though, and I could hear her announcing her trip to her fam as though we'd never filmed it in the first place. Then the woman released the panel and joined me on the other side. It snapped shut before I could lunge through, and I settled for my fist slamming into it in closing. Regretfully, this stung more than it managed to induce fear in the heart of the security woman, who'd faced more shit in a shift than I had in a year. "What the fuck! What did you do to her?" She ducked my fist and gestured for me to follow. "I have wiped her memory of you. Come. Your gate is this way." "Where are we going?!" "Somewhere you can make something of yourself," she said. "What about Arnie?" "We need people of your abilities, Greg." Something about the way she said that unsettled me. It was a half truth. Arnie had something I didn't. Fame. Followers. Residue which couldn't be wiped with a little swirly eyes and smudgy smudge of the airport security reel. I was good for nothing, going nowhere, with no particular points of interest, close family. I had a bad feeling about this. "That's horseshit," I said. "I know I've got nothing anyone would want. What the hell is all this?" "Sometimes people want to disappear," she said. "And so we have a service which ensures you will disappear forever. Take heart. You may not believe in your abilities, but I know you will work hard eventually. You are a strong young man." My heart was sinking even further. She opened a hatch and when I shied away, her eyes compelled me in, and I was seated and buckled before I could stop myself. "So this what, a rocket, a time machine?" I asked hopelessly as the machine powered up. "Am I going to get an onboard snack?" "You won't want one," she said, snatching my ticket from my hand, tearing it, and dropping my half onto the floor. The security woman stepped out and sealed the door behind her, leaving me alone in a metal capsule which, as far as my sense of direction could tell, was located within the airport itself. It began to rotate, though, and around it darkness was exposed through the windows. Not a runway strip. I pressed my eyes to the scuffed up halfway clear viewport, trying to make out what was going on outside. I regretted it a half second later when the thrust kicked in, knocking my skull into the side of the pod. I took a better brace position when the momentum gave me a second to catch my breath. A good thing too; it plunged and I felt myself screaming, but couldn't hear it over the jaunty airport style warnings for the pod, all seat belts and tray tables and brace positions and prepare for eminent death about twenty seconds too late to do me any good. I gagged on some uprising vomit. The whole ride took maybe three hundred seconds of freefall and a half hour of gently sloping to a halt, during which I wanted nothing more than to be at home on solid ground. Then the door opened, and, again on the delay, a welcome recording played in English and French. I unbuckled myself and staggered out of the pod, staring around me in anticipatory horror, but I was in a burnished metal hallway not dissimilar to the world above. A staff member met me there with a cheerful, "Welcome to Inner Earth Sub Dimension Z-3!" and he escorted me to a revolving luggage dispensary where I waited, dazed for my bag to emerge. "So am I what, a slave to the people of the inner earth now?" I asked, waiting for that telling click. How hard could it be? There was one bloody bag in the pod. "That's right, sir," said my escort. "Memories of you have already begun to be purged from the upper world. Resistance is futile. You will have already noticed we can all control your puny human minds." Beep. Whir. Click. The conveyor began to move and I sighed in relief, only to watch in horror as purple duffel rise from the airport machinery. My hand reached out for it, shaking. They'd made a mistake. I had Arnie's bag. And she'd have mine, a physical clue to my existence contained in my boxers. Would it be enough for anyone to know to come and search for me? Could I even be rescued from here? If they could blast me down here, surely there was a return option. I slung the mis-tagged bag over my shoulder and followed my escort towards my new life, frantically making plans to undo this travesty yet compelled by curiosity to dog on forward and see what lay ahead. It was, after all, what Arnie would want–for me to document this adventure, and make the best of it. ​
I’ll take one ticket to the farthest place possible, I remember asking the quiet woman at the flight counter. It was only meant to be a joke, but instead of laughing it off, she typed into her computer for a moment and then printed out a boarding pass. She handed the white ticket to me, and although I didn’t know what to say, I took it from her hands. I remember the ticket felt strange to the touch, like it was made from some sort of feathery paper. My wife and I often went on trips abroad, and I served a couple tours overseas when I was in the military, but none of the boarding passes felt quite like this one. I looked at the ticket itself, but couldn’t really make out the text, like the ink was squirming and morphing, trying to escape the paper. I remember I somehow made my way through the labyrinthine airport, through security, the terminal, and the bright, still runway. I don’t think I considered much during the journey, as the only thing my eyes fixated on was the strange boarding pass. There was something wrong with it, and my thumb continued to run across its surface. I remember I was the only one in the flight, but for some reason I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t important, I thought, since this flight was created only for me. I sat down and got comfortable. My index finger drew circles around the peculiar boarding pass. I remember the flight soared far above the clouds, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and our unborn child. I was so scared to think of having a child in our life, but finally I was starting to accept the possibility, and I wondered what to name him if he was a boy. I tried bending the boarding pass between my middle and ring fingers. I remember how I was suddenly hit by apprehension at some point in the flight, wondering where I was going and when I would be able to come back. I cried and cried, and begged the flight attendants to land the flight, but they never looked me in the eyes. I crumpled up the boarding pass. I remember thinking back to all the mistakes I made before this moment. The people I betrayed and the things I abandoned. Was it ever possible to take back the things I threw away. I once again tried to read the boarding pass. I remember considering suicide in the airplane cabin. Where would I go if I died up here. Would I be able to go back? I tore the corner off the boarding pass. I remember wondering how old my child was these days. Do you think they found happiness? Do you think they remained faithful to their loved ones. I really hope they do. I straightened out the tattered boarding pass. I think about all of this every now and then as I fiddle with the strange piece of paper in my hands. All I can hear now and all I will be able to hear is the hum of the engine and the vast silence of the skies.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
He shoved the ticket into his pocket and walked down the hallway toward the Plane. He checked his watch: 12:04 PM. Losing the dare was an annoyance, but one that he hoped would not eat up too much of his day. With enough luck, he would be Transported to the strange destination printed on his ticket, fulfill the usual requisite couple hours of exploration mandated by the dare, and return in time for his dinner meeting at 6:00 PM. It was crucial that he perfectly pitched his latest vision to his most promising backer in the city leadership. They were all skeptical of his claims and even more uncertain about the methods by which he hoped to implement his ideas. But he was certain that he could get through to this one. Thoughts of how he would conduct the meeting filled his mind as he walked—then vanished just as quickly as he stepped onto the Plane and was greeted by an Attendant: "Welcome onboard. The Time will be the 28th day of the month 'June', year 1971. We will return on the same day and month in the year 2031 for pickup. We hope you enjoy your stay on planet Earth, Elon." Elon immediately turned around, but it was too late. The entrance had shut. The room began to glow with a luminous blue light as the Transporter hummed to life. He groaned in frustration. He couldn't believe they'd pulled something like this on him, especially on such a crucial day. The last thing he needed was a 60 year stint on an old, backwater planet that was technologically light years behind the city he was working to improve. But there was no way to reverse the process now. With a sigh of resignation, Elon lifted the crumpled ticket out from his pocket and tried once more in vain to make out the strange, primitive letters signifying his home for the next 60 years: PRETORIA, EARTH. ​
I’ll take one ticket to the farthest place possible, I remember asking the quiet woman at the flight counter. It was only meant to be a joke, but instead of laughing it off, she typed into her computer for a moment and then printed out a boarding pass. She handed the white ticket to me, and although I didn’t know what to say, I took it from her hands. I remember the ticket felt strange to the touch, like it was made from some sort of feathery paper. My wife and I often went on trips abroad, and I served a couple tours overseas when I was in the military, but none of the boarding passes felt quite like this one. I looked at the ticket itself, but couldn’t really make out the text, like the ink was squirming and morphing, trying to escape the paper. I remember I somehow made my way through the labyrinthine airport, through security, the terminal, and the bright, still runway. I don’t think I considered much during the journey, as the only thing my eyes fixated on was the strange boarding pass. There was something wrong with it, and my thumb continued to run across its surface. I remember I was the only one in the flight, but for some reason I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t important, I thought, since this flight was created only for me. I sat down and got comfortable. My index finger drew circles around the peculiar boarding pass. I remember the flight soared far above the clouds, and I couldn’t stop thinking about my wife and our unborn child. I was so scared to think of having a child in our life, but finally I was starting to accept the possibility, and I wondered what to name him if he was a boy. I tried bending the boarding pass between my middle and ring fingers. I remember how I was suddenly hit by apprehension at some point in the flight, wondering where I was going and when I would be able to come back. I cried and cried, and begged the flight attendants to land the flight, but they never looked me in the eyes. I crumpled up the boarding pass. I remember thinking back to all the mistakes I made before this moment. The people I betrayed and the things I abandoned. Was it ever possible to take back the things I threw away. I once again tried to read the boarding pass. I remember considering suicide in the airplane cabin. Where would I go if I died up here. Would I be able to go back? I tore the corner off the boarding pass. I remember wondering how old my child was these days. Do you think they found happiness? Do you think they remained faithful to their loved ones. I really hope they do. I straightened out the tattered boarding pass. I think about all of this every now and then as I fiddle with the strange piece of paper in my hands. All I can hear now and all I will be able to hear is the hum of the engine and the vast silence of the skies.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I just had to ask for the ticket, that was the dare. At 21, am I too old for dares? Probably. But there was me, a 6ft tall skinny male with black hair, approaching the kiosk. “Hi, how can I help?” asked the young female behind the desk. “1 Ticket to the farthest destination please” I replied. “Of course sir, Gate 14 when you are ready sir” she said, pressing some buttons. The printer made the usual noises and I grabbed the ticket. I looked at the ticket, destination NA. What? But I’ve always been so curious. I return to my excited friends. “I got a ticket. I’m going to go” I said quietly. “What? You’ll miss our holiday! Where are you even going?” one of them asked. “I don’t know yet, but I have to find out. Please let me go” I said quietly. They seemed to look confused, but one of them nodded. When I showed my ticket to security, then quickly ushered me through, skipping the line. They didn’t check my bag or anything. When I walked to the far side of the airport, gate 14, it was so quite. Not a single other passenger. Just a single young female waiting at the open gate. “Right aboard, Sir”. She said. And then a saw it. The luxury private Jet. Sweet. I walked through the gate and climbed the steps up to the jet. As I went in the door was closed behind me from the outside. I quickly took in my new surroundings, luxury sofas, tables, wine glasses etc. A young female dressed in black leather with black hair quickly paces towards me and before I know it her arms are around me, hugging me. “You’re actually alive, my goodness” she said, then quickly released her grip, brushing off her arms. “Very sorry sir. Got a bit overexcited there” she said shyly. “It’s ok” I reply. “Sit down, please, we can take off and talk. Got some catching up to do” she says. I sit on one of the sofas and carefully place my bag in a stowaway, securing it. “Hope you came prepared Sir” she comments. “Er, yeah, of course” I reply shyly. We suddenly take off at great speed. “Anyway, you are alive! I told them to prepare just in case. They even showed me the mutilated body, not a pleasant site I must say. But as soon as the autopsy showed cancer, I just knew, it was a voluntary decoy, right?” she said. “Yeah, of course” I reply with fake confidence. “It was wearing one of those fancy facemasks, but…” she pauses and stares very hard at my face, inching her head forward. “You’re not? That’s the real deal isn’t it? Your real face. You must have figured they can detect the masks somehow. Damn you are good! And oh my, revealing your true identity for one last mission to save the world! I love it!” she says. “Yep, my real face” I say. I’m way in over my depth, but I figure at this point, I just have to go along with it. “Alright, on with business, we are nearly there. As you know you need to take out the Queen, using any means necessary. Once that’s done just fire off this flair” She says grabbing taking my luggage bag out of storage and putting a red tube in one of the outer pockets. I nod shyly. “You have 6 hours, or else we’ll be forced to assume… you know. And we’ll have to nuke the place. They still haven’t decided how they’ll try and cover that up yet. It’ll cause a lot of political trouble, and you know, you’ll be…. Anyway I have full faith in you, Sir” she says, putting a large black rucksack on my back, and stuffing my luggage handle into my hand. “Hold onto your luggage tight with your right hand, once you’re out the plane use you left hand to pull the red cord hard” she says indicating towards the red cord. “It’s of course protocol I remind you this sir, even though this is what, mission 205 now?” she asks. “Yep” I reply, nervous. She opens the door and the wind rushes in. “Good luck Sir. 3, 2, 1, jump!” she shouted. Somehow my legs seemed to go through the relevant motion without me actually telling them to and before I knew it I was plunging through the air. I desperately reached for the red cord and tugged hard. Out came the parachute, and my descent slowed. I managed to breathe again. I seemed to be approaching a tropical island in the middle of the ocean. I notice one large concrete building in the middle and a small port of various luxury boats to the north, with its own large building. I land near a south beach and take off my Shute. I quickly rummage through my luggage bag. Spare clothes and various standard holiday stuff. A bit too heavy to carry comfortably. I pocket the red tube and decide to leave the luggage. I look around. And that’s when I saw one. A large red spider creature with claws instead of legs, about half my size with sharp fangs. I stood still in fear as it approached me, but then it seemed to scurry off. What the heck. What is this place? I figure I better head to the central building. As I walk a see several more creatures, equally scary, but they don’t seem to disturb me. Eventually I approach a door to the central building and notice above the door is a sign that says “Lab”. The door has a single green button on the side which I press. The door mechanically opens to reveal a lighted room with a second door a few feet forward with a second button. As I step forward the first door closes behind me. I press the button to open the second door which opens. As I walk through I take in my surroundings. Some kind of ruined laboratory. Broken glass enclosures scattered throughout, broken vials with strange liquids, etc. “Don’t touch anything” says a voice. A young male with spiky black hair wearing a lab coat walks around the corner. He looks and me and pauses, looking thoughtful. We stand silent for about a minute. “Ok”. He says. He grabs a syringe from a desk. “First things first, I’m a friend and won’t hurt you. You need to trust me if you want to live. This island has diseases you’ve not even heard of. Years of illegal experimentation. I need to vaccinate you, now” he says, approaching me. I hold out my arm and let him. “Ow! Who are you?” I ask. “Dr Tepac” he says. “Erm ok. What do you know?” I ask. “I’m responsible for the creatures you’ve seen. But as you’ve seen, it’s possible to cohabit with them peacefully. They are very intelligent. They know if you want to harm them. They can read minds. And I can too. I know who you are and why you were sent here, so let me be very clear. You are not a spy. You have no weapons. Here’s what you’ll do if you want to leave this island alive. You’ll take this” he says sternly handed me a gas canister. “… You’ll head to the docks, via the building. When you’re in the building you won’t look up at the ceiling. You’ll head towards the boats. The creatures use the boats as transport and yes I am serious. When approaching the boats the creatures will become aggressive. You’ll pull the pin on the canister and lob it into the middle of the room. The canister contains a gas they really like, it’s basically chocolate to them. They’ll accept it as an offering and let you board a boat. You’ll leave and never return.” He explains sternly. “But… the nuke?” I ask. “That’ll fail. These creatures are already everywhere. They’ll sabotage the bomber if needed. It’s just self-defence, you have to understand. Humanity will have to learn to peacefully coexist with… the creatures.” He says. I gulp. “I understand” I reply. Head low I leave the building. As I walk towards the dock, I look at the red cylinder and think of the pretty black-haired lady. I hope she doesn’t get hurt. Before long, I’m at the door to the dock building. I open the door and quickly see a room almost full of the things. I carefully step in. I walk slowly forward towards the boats as they start to clatter their claws. “I mean no harm. I brought some… chocolate? I just want to get to a boat and leave… please?” I say. I carefully pull the pin and lob the canister to the centre of the room. The gas quickly starts to fill the room. Suddenly the creatures start dropping to the floor. I look at the walls and they are falling off lifeless. Then I look at the celling and see it. A really big one in some kind of nest and suddenly it falls to the floor. Splat. I start coughing as the gas fills my lungs. I feel faint. “Sir?” I hear a familiar female voice. I wake up in some kind of hospital room and look round to see the black haired lady and Dr Tupac. “It’s ok sir, he explained everything. He vaccinated you against the gas, but it still hit you pretty bad. You’ll be ok though. Somehow you did it Sir, you killed the Queen.” She says. A voice speaks inside my head. “Hey, it’s me Dr Tupac. I’ve learned to commutate telepathically. The creatures, they were mind readers, but couldn’t read me through the concrete lab walls. I was able to prepare some kind of solution, but how could anyone deliver that solution, unless they were truly innocent, truly ignorant. You were perfect. Thank you. I’m going to ask if you’ve forgotten anything, and you are going to say your training” says the voice. “Unfortunately there may have been some side effects, such as memory loss, have you forgotten anything?” asks Mr Tupac out loud. “Yes.. it’s kinda awkward, my training is a bit of a wash I’m afraid, and all my previous missions…” I say shyly. “It’s ok sir, we’ll get you back up to your former self in no time and my names Delilah, in case you forgot” says the black haired girl, Delilah. “Thanks” I say. An old man with grey hair and a black suit walks into the room. “Thought I’d visit in person” he says. He looks at me. “How are you?” he asks. “Good thanks, Sir” I say. “Congratulations, Agent” he replies.
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
AT25. It was a very strange airport code. I had never seen a 4 digit airport code before and certainly not one with numbers. I turned back to the desk attendant confused. "Umm which country is this airport in again?" "None of them," she answered as though it should have been obvious. "And don't forget your jacket. It'll be cold this time of year." She added almost as an afterthought. This had originally been a dare, but now I was curious. Just where was this ticket going to take me? The flight departed from Anchorage at 11 AM. I was the only passenger on the flight and the plane was very old. It was some sort of 4 engine propeller plane. It was extremely cold in the plane and the only refreshments were a couple of sandwiches and some water bottles. After about 20 hours we stopped at a small airfield. The pilot said that he needed to refuel the plane or something like that. We were soon back in the air. It was unbelievably boring. The only other passenger was a pallet of cargo. The writing on the pallet was in Japanese, so I had no idea where we were going. After another 20 hours we finally landed. It had been almost two days since I left Anchorage. "We've now arrive in Syowa, Antarctica. I hope you enjoyed our 11,850 mile trip." I had originally planned on going to Florida. I was so fucked.
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I didn't know these letterforms: Georgian, maybe? Or Tibetan? They were printed where the airport call letters would've been, so I gave a thin grin at the attendant before carrying on to check my bag. "Safe travels," she said. Arnie skipped along beside me, her carry on stowed over her shoulder, a shit-eating grin on her face. She heaved her checked purple duffle onto the conveyor belt. "Told you we could get a vacation without making any plans. All right, now shoot me before we go through security." I watched my hard pack vanish between the vinyl slats into the airport's violent sorting labyrinth with a quiver of alarm, as I always experienced when parted from my belongings. I whipped out my phone, though, and set it to video. Arnie held up her ticket to show the viewers, then bobbed back, walking backwards beside the luggage roller. "Tim Wiz, challenge accepted and challenge defeated! We went and asked Best Jet for one ticket to their furthest destination and now we're on our way! Check this wild shit out, curly letters, am I right? Well, I'll see you all on the other side of security, fam!" "This is nuts," I said, shoving my phone back into my backpack. "You were down when the idea was to try go to Turkey," she said. "That took getting an entire visa." "You know, since they didn't ask for any of that paperwork," I said, "we're probably going to end up in, like, Yellowknife, you know. Bet all this curly nonsense is just a print error." "Last time I took a bet, I ended up at the airport ordering tickets to the furthest place from here!" Arnie held her ticket out to the security attendant, whose face grew immediately more serious. "Line A," he said. We snaked through the queue, only to be intercepted by another airport security officer before we could reach the table of infinite rolling laptop shenanigans. "This is just a random check," they assured us, one grabbing Arnie's arm, one mine, guiding us off to the side to a holding room before we could really make any objections. "You're not trying to escape from anything, honey?" one of the security staff asked. I was touched by her concern, but Arnie beat me to piping up, saying, "Nah, see, I run a YouTube adventure channel where we travel all over the world and make videos! And we accept challenges here in Canada too, of course, and a friend of mine dared us to ask for the ticket to the furthest place. Promise you we're not trying to escape from a life of crime or an abusive boyfriend, honest." "Were we flagged?" "It's just a random check," the airport staff member said. "Your destination is... unusual for someone in your demographic." Arnie gasped. "You mean this is racism? We're being flagged for our destination? Do you think we're going to join Isis?" "Are we being detained? Is this customs?" I asked. "We're just going to run a few checks," the officer said. "And you, why are you going?" "Well, I don't have anything going for me right now so when Arnie invited me to go on a vacation," I said, "stars just seemed to align." The staff member opened up a mini fridge and removed a couple of bottles of water, handing one to Arnie and one to me. "It will just be a few moments." Then she vanished from the room. I cracked open the bottle of water and enjoyed its refreshing coolness. "Grab your camera," she said. I obliged. "Hey fam," Arnie crooned into the camera. "We're being detained for being weird! Gonna check out our baggage for drugs, I bet. Hope we don't miss our flight to an unknown destination!" She signaled the cut and I ended the take. Then Arnie twisted open her water bottle and chugged it with a sigh. "Ah, that's nice," she said. We sat for a few minutes before I said, "Want me to film anything else? Arnie?" When she didn't reply with immediate gusto, I craned my head back to look at her and found her sprawled out on the chair, head til back as far as it would go, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the roof. Holy mother of burritos, I had no idea what was going on here, a seizure? Had she been poisoned? I seized her water bottle; its label was pink and mine was blue, I'd thought that was mere sexist stereotyping. The door swung open and the attendant walked in, holding another ticket in her hands. "Thank gods you're back," I said. "My friend's having some kind of medical emergency..." She didn't seem to care all that much, grabbing the original ticket printed and replacing it with this new one. I squinted at the letters and just made out the name "Churchill", a Canadian city, something perfectly normal. Perhaps I'd been right and there was a misprint? Yet she only brought one replacement. "Excuse me?" She seemed to notice me then, and tapped a few buttons to open a panel on the wall. "Right this way, please." Some authority obedience instinct made my legs move that way and a frosted glass panel snapped shut, trapping me on the other side. Then her attention was off me again, back on Arnie, who she woke with a snap. I pounded on the door, but the sound was muffled. Arnie's eyes were still glazed as though she were under a glamor, but in the midst of it all she focused clearly on the woman's hypnotic eyes. "I'm sorry for detaining you," the woman said sweetly. "Your trip to Churchill, Manitoba all checks out. Have a nice flight." "Arnie!" I yelled, but she seemed oblivious to my plight. Robotic, Arnie rose up and left the room, making for the security lineup. Her phone made it into her hands though, and I could hear her announcing her trip to her fam as though we'd never filmed it in the first place. Then the woman released the panel and joined me on the other side. It snapped shut before I could lunge through, and I settled for my fist slamming into it in closing. Regretfully, this stung more than it managed to induce fear in the heart of the security woman, who'd faced more shit in a shift than I had in a year. "What the fuck! What did you do to her?" She ducked my fist and gestured for me to follow. "I have wiped her memory of you. Come. Your gate is this way." "Where are we going?!" "Somewhere you can make something of yourself," she said. "What about Arnie?" "We need people of your abilities, Greg." Something about the way she said that unsettled me. It was a half truth. Arnie had something I didn't. Fame. Followers. Residue which couldn't be wiped with a little swirly eyes and smudgy smudge of the airport security reel. I was good for nothing, going nowhere, with no particular points of interest, close family. I had a bad feeling about this. "That's horseshit," I said. "I know I've got nothing anyone would want. What the hell is all this?" "Sometimes people want to disappear," she said. "And so we have a service which ensures you will disappear forever. Take heart. You may not believe in your abilities, but I know you will work hard eventually. You are a strong young man." My heart was sinking even further. She opened a hatch and when I shied away, her eyes compelled me in, and I was seated and buckled before I could stop myself. "So this what, a rocket, a time machine?" I asked hopelessly as the machine powered up. "Am I going to get an onboard snack?" "You won't want one," she said, snatching my ticket from my hand, tearing it, and dropping my half onto the floor. The security woman stepped out and sealed the door behind her, leaving me alone in a metal capsule which, as far as my sense of direction could tell, was located within the airport itself. It began to rotate, though, and around it darkness was exposed through the windows. Not a runway strip. I pressed my eyes to the scuffed up halfway clear viewport, trying to make out what was going on outside. I regretted it a half second later when the thrust kicked in, knocking my skull into the side of the pod. I took a better brace position when the momentum gave me a second to catch my breath. A good thing too; it plunged and I felt myself screaming, but couldn't hear it over the jaunty airport style warnings for the pod, all seat belts and tray tables and brace positions and prepare for eminent death about twenty seconds too late to do me any good. I gagged on some uprising vomit. The whole ride took maybe three hundred seconds of freefall and a half hour of gently sloping to a halt, during which I wanted nothing more than to be at home on solid ground. Then the door opened, and, again on the delay, a welcome recording played in English and French. I unbuckled myself and staggered out of the pod, staring around me in anticipatory horror, but I was in a burnished metal hallway not dissimilar to the world above. A staff member met me there with a cheerful, "Welcome to Inner Earth Sub Dimension Z-3!" and he escorted me to a revolving luggage dispensary where I waited, dazed for my bag to emerge. "So am I what, a slave to the people of the inner earth now?" I asked, waiting for that telling click. How hard could it be? There was one bloody bag in the pod. "That's right, sir," said my escort. "Memories of you have already begun to be purged from the upper world. Resistance is futile. You will have already noticed we can all control your puny human minds." Beep. Whir. Click. The conveyor began to move and I sighed in relief, only to watch in horror as purple duffel rise from the airport machinery. My hand reached out for it, shaking. They'd made a mistake. I had Arnie's bag. And she'd have mine, a physical clue to my existence contained in my boxers. Would it be enough for anyone to know to come and search for me? Could I even be rescued from here? If they could blast me down here, surely there was a return option. I slung the mis-tagged bag over my shoulder and followed my escort towards my new life, frantically making plans to undo this travesty yet compelled by curiosity to dog on forward and see what lay ahead. It was, after all, what Arnie would want–for me to document this adventure, and make the best of it. ​
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
He shoved the ticket into his pocket and walked down the hallway toward the Plane. He checked his watch: 12:04 PM. Losing the dare was an annoyance, but one that he hoped would not eat up too much of his day. With enough luck, he would be Transported to the strange destination printed on his ticket, fulfill the usual requisite couple hours of exploration mandated by the dare, and return in time for his dinner meeting at 6:00 PM. It was crucial that he perfectly pitched his latest vision to his most promising backer in the city leadership. They were all skeptical of his claims and even more uncertain about the methods by which he hoped to implement his ideas. But he was certain that he could get through to this one. Thoughts of how he would conduct the meeting filled his mind as he walked—then vanished just as quickly as he stepped onto the Plane and was greeted by an Attendant: "Welcome onboard. The Time will be the 28th day of the month 'June', year 1971. We will return on the same day and month in the year 2031 for pickup. We hope you enjoy your stay on planet Earth, Elon." Elon immediately turned around, but it was too late. The entrance had shut. The room began to glow with a luminous blue light as the Transporter hummed to life. He groaned in frustration. He couldn't believe they'd pulled something like this on him, especially on such a crucial day. The last thing he needed was a 60 year stint on an old, backwater planet that was technologically light years behind the city he was working to improve. But there was no way to reverse the process now. With a sigh of resignation, Elon lifted the crumpled ticket out from his pocket and tried once more in vain to make out the strange, primitive letters signifying his home for the next 60 years: PRETORIA, EARTH. ​
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
"You've gotta do it," Brad said through a grin. "You know what happens if you don't." Adam shook his head. "Alright, fine." He twirled his father's flat black credit card between his fingers and breathed deep. Of all the bets to lose, why did it have to be this one? It was supposed to be a sure thing. So sure, in fact, that he hadn't even hesitated to accept the terms. He made his way to the airline's desk, refusing to look back at his snickering friends. *Farthest destination.* Brad's words echoed in his head. *And you've gotta go, too.* The woman glanced up at him for just a moment as he approached. She sized him up in an instant and returned to her computer screen, typing at a non-convincing speed. But when Adam leaned forward and tapped the credit card on the desk, her demeanor changed. Suddenly she was standing straight, a white, toothy smile on her face. Whatever work she had been focused on was no longer relevant; there was a VIP customer at her counter. "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked, overflowing with cheer. "I, uh," Adam began, pausing to look back at Brad and Jeremy. He shot them a dirty look and turned back to the woman. "I need a ticket for your farthest destination, please." The woman stared at him for a moment. Something changed in her expression, though Adam couldnt say what. She still smiled wide and stood tall, but something was *different*. Something in her eyes. She reached out for the credit card and Adam happily handed it over. He was almost happy she didnt give him a price; he didnt want to know. His father would have him working the next two years to pay him back. After a moment, the woman returned the card and handed him a ticket. Adam glanced at the ticket and took pause. He'd traveled plenty of times on a number of airlines, but this ticket didnt look like any of them. It had strange numbers on it, as if it were some half-broken font. That is, if they were numbers at all, which Adam was not sure of. There were symbols and colors and all manner of strange markings. He turned to face his friends, expecting to find that the whole thing had been a joke. But they were no where to be found. Surely they'd want to stay and ensure Adam had followed through. "Sir," a low voice rumbled from behind him. Adam spun around and found himself staring at a mountain of a man, so tall it almost hurt to make eye contact. Adam was at a loss for words. The man put a hand on his shoulder--no, *around* his shoulder--and spoke just loud enough for Adam to hear. "Please come with me." Adam didnt *want* to go. But what was he supposed to do? The man was polite, but there was a firmness in his voice that seemed to remove any chance that his words were just suggestions. So Adam followed. They winded through hallways and stairwells for a good fifteen minutes. Adam wasnt even aware the airport had more than one floor. The whole way he examined the man, trying to decide who he was and what he wanted. Most likely he was a cop, taking Adam somewhere to call his father and give him a good scare. But after some time they arrived at what appeared to be a terminal. There was no one else there, not even a check in attendant. The air was almost unnaturally chilled as you followed the man through a narrow walkway and, finally, into an aircraft. "This is your seat, sir," the man said, gesturing to a spot near the front of the plane. Adam glanced around and found no other passengers. "Uh, excuse me, sir?" Adam finally found the courage to speak. "Where are we going, exactly?" The man smiled. "No need to act now, sir. We're thrilled you've accepted our offer. Now make yourself comfortable; it's a long ride to Mars." r/Ford9863
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
######[](#dropcap) The woman's eyes flashed. Her gaze flickered downwards for just a moment before they came up again. "Are you sure?" The words came out silky smooth, almost inhuman. Pietra bit her lip, then glanced back towards her friends. Matthew was bent over double with laughter, while Manny waved at her and then shook his fist. "Yes," she said. "How much will this cost?" The lady smiled. "Not much." It was a good thing her father lacked anything but money. She pulled a black credit card from her pocket. The lady shook her head and smiled. "Oh no, you'll pay when you reach the destination." "Um..." Pietra leaned closer to the counter. "Where am I headed exactly?" "You'll know when you get there." And with that cryptic statement, the woman behind the counter pressed a button out of sight, and a small gap in the counter opened up to reveal a thin, rectangular glass box with a ticket inside. She opened it gingerly, then handed it to Pietra, who took it. It had a surprising weight to it, yet the texture wasn't quite right. She brushed over the unrecognizable letters with her finger, the sensation like water sliding over glass. The sense of unease she'd felt up to this moment vanished as soon as she held the ticket in her hands. It centered her. It was almost as if she knew everything would be alright in that moment. She turned back to her friends and waved, giving them a bright smile. Yes. She was ready for the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe she was going to Australia. Maybe to China. But wherever it was, she knew she would be ready for it. Without hesitating, she walked towards the gates. The crowds around her parted like water, the air around her seeming to grow more pure, lighter. She could barely hear the voices of her friend's panicked voices now, telling her to stay, as she walked through security with no luggage. There were no other passengers on the plane. But somehow, that made sense. It was just as it should be. Pietra sighed in relief. The ticket grew hotter in the palm of her hand, but it was a familiar heat. She chose a random seat, gazing at the random rows ahead of her. Then she closed her eyes. *** "Ma'am, we've arrived." A gentle shake on her shoulder. Pietra's eyes slowly drifted open. It was the woman from the airline counter. "Where are we?" she asked groggily. "3014." Pietra cocked her head to the side. "What is that? A country number?" The woman smiled. She gently grabbed ahold of Pietra's wrist and pressed a device to it. Two little mild shocks of pain, almost imperceptible and lightning fast, and Pietra withdrew her wrist. She stared down at the two tiny blue dots on it. "It's the year. Your payment is complete." "I don't understand," Pietra said, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "The year? And what payment?" The woman smiled back brightly. "Yes, it's the year 3014. And your payment of 2 years of your life. That's how we do things here. Trading life for experiences. It promotes highly calculative decision making, and people on average cite a much higher quality of life before they cycle through again." The woman gestured toward the exit door. "Welcome, Pietra. I certainly hope you enjoy your stay." **** r/AlannaWu
You look up at the map behind the atendants head. Lota of obvious counties with well known abbreviations. CA, Canada. AUS, been there once actually, that's Australia. There are others you could guess at. Sweden would maybe be like....SWD. Italy maybe an ITL. So you start to narrow it down. Nigeria....nope. Couldn't be. Nepal? Never been there. But it doesn't meet the requirements. Nicaragua. Sounds sufficiently exotic but again, just doesn't fit. You check the ticket again. Look at the map. Quadruple check the ticket. NZ. What could it be? Where? You shrug and give the atendant a nod. Guess you will find out.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
I didn't know these letterforms: Georgian, maybe? Or Tibetan? They were printed where the airport call letters would've been, so I gave a thin grin at the attendant before carrying on to check my bag. "Safe travels," she said. Arnie skipped along beside me, her carry on stowed over her shoulder, a shit-eating grin on her face. She heaved her checked purple duffle onto the conveyor belt. "Told you we could get a vacation without making any plans. All right, now shoot me before we go through security." I watched my hard pack vanish between the vinyl slats into the airport's violent sorting labyrinth with a quiver of alarm, as I always experienced when parted from my belongings. I whipped out my phone, though, and set it to video. Arnie held up her ticket to show the viewers, then bobbed back, walking backwards beside the luggage roller. "Tim Wiz, challenge accepted and challenge defeated! We went and asked Best Jet for one ticket to their furthest destination and now we're on our way! Check this wild shit out, curly letters, am I right? Well, I'll see you all on the other side of security, fam!" "This is nuts," I said, shoving my phone back into my backpack. "You were down when the idea was to try go to Turkey," she said. "That took getting an entire visa." "You know, since they didn't ask for any of that paperwork," I said, "we're probably going to end up in, like, Yellowknife, you know. Bet all this curly nonsense is just a print error." "Last time I took a bet, I ended up at the airport ordering tickets to the furthest place from here!" Arnie held her ticket out to the security attendant, whose face grew immediately more serious. "Line A," he said. We snaked through the queue, only to be intercepted by another airport security officer before we could reach the table of infinite rolling laptop shenanigans. "This is just a random check," they assured us, one grabbing Arnie's arm, one mine, guiding us off to the side to a holding room before we could really make any objections. "You're not trying to escape from anything, honey?" one of the security staff asked. I was touched by her concern, but Arnie beat me to piping up, saying, "Nah, see, I run a YouTube adventure channel where we travel all over the world and make videos! And we accept challenges here in Canada too, of course, and a friend of mine dared us to ask for the ticket to the furthest place. Promise you we're not trying to escape from a life of crime or an abusive boyfriend, honest." "Were we flagged?" "It's just a random check," the airport staff member said. "Your destination is... unusual for someone in your demographic." Arnie gasped. "You mean this is racism? We're being flagged for our destination? Do you think we're going to join Isis?" "Are we being detained? Is this customs?" I asked. "We're just going to run a few checks," the officer said. "And you, why are you going?" "Well, I don't have anything going for me right now so when Arnie invited me to go on a vacation," I said, "stars just seemed to align." The staff member opened up a mini fridge and removed a couple of bottles of water, handing one to Arnie and one to me. "It will just be a few moments." Then she vanished from the room. I cracked open the bottle of water and enjoyed its refreshing coolness. "Grab your camera," she said. I obliged. "Hey fam," Arnie crooned into the camera. "We're being detained for being weird! Gonna check out our baggage for drugs, I bet. Hope we don't miss our flight to an unknown destination!" She signaled the cut and I ended the take. Then Arnie twisted open her water bottle and chugged it with a sigh. "Ah, that's nice," she said. We sat for a few minutes before I said, "Want me to film anything else? Arnie?" When she didn't reply with immediate gusto, I craned my head back to look at her and found her sprawled out on the chair, head til back as far as it would go, eyes wide open, staring blankly at the roof. Holy mother of burritos, I had no idea what was going on here, a seizure? Had she been poisoned? I seized her water bottle; its label was pink and mine was blue, I'd thought that was mere sexist stereotyping. The door swung open and the attendant walked in, holding another ticket in her hands. "Thank gods you're back," I said. "My friend's having some kind of medical emergency..." She didn't seem to care all that much, grabbing the original ticket printed and replacing it with this new one. I squinted at the letters and just made out the name "Churchill", a Canadian city, something perfectly normal. Perhaps I'd been right and there was a misprint? Yet she only brought one replacement. "Excuse me?" She seemed to notice me then, and tapped a few buttons to open a panel on the wall. "Right this way, please." Some authority obedience instinct made my legs move that way and a frosted glass panel snapped shut, trapping me on the other side. Then her attention was off me again, back on Arnie, who she woke with a snap. I pounded on the door, but the sound was muffled. Arnie's eyes were still glazed as though she were under a glamor, but in the midst of it all she focused clearly on the woman's hypnotic eyes. "I'm sorry for detaining you," the woman said sweetly. "Your trip to Churchill, Manitoba all checks out. Have a nice flight." "Arnie!" I yelled, but she seemed oblivious to my plight. Robotic, Arnie rose up and left the room, making for the security lineup. Her phone made it into her hands though, and I could hear her announcing her trip to her fam as though we'd never filmed it in the first place. Then the woman released the panel and joined me on the other side. It snapped shut before I could lunge through, and I settled for my fist slamming into it in closing. Regretfully, this stung more than it managed to induce fear in the heart of the security woman, who'd faced more shit in a shift than I had in a year. "What the fuck! What did you do to her?" She ducked my fist and gestured for me to follow. "I have wiped her memory of you. Come. Your gate is this way." "Where are we going?!" "Somewhere you can make something of yourself," she said. "What about Arnie?" "We need people of your abilities, Greg." Something about the way she said that unsettled me. It was a half truth. Arnie had something I didn't. Fame. Followers. Residue which couldn't be wiped with a little swirly eyes and smudgy smudge of the airport security reel. I was good for nothing, going nowhere, with no particular points of interest, close family. I had a bad feeling about this. "That's horseshit," I said. "I know I've got nothing anyone would want. What the hell is all this?" "Sometimes people want to disappear," she said. "And so we have a service which ensures you will disappear forever. Take heart. You may not believe in your abilities, but I know you will work hard eventually. You are a strong young man." My heart was sinking even further. She opened a hatch and when I shied away, her eyes compelled me in, and I was seated and buckled before I could stop myself. "So this what, a rocket, a time machine?" I asked hopelessly as the machine powered up. "Am I going to get an onboard snack?" "You won't want one," she said, snatching my ticket from my hand, tearing it, and dropping my half onto the floor. The security woman stepped out and sealed the door behind her, leaving me alone in a metal capsule which, as far as my sense of direction could tell, was located within the airport itself. It began to rotate, though, and around it darkness was exposed through the windows. Not a runway strip. I pressed my eyes to the scuffed up halfway clear viewport, trying to make out what was going on outside. I regretted it a half second later when the thrust kicked in, knocking my skull into the side of the pod. I took a better brace position when the momentum gave me a second to catch my breath. A good thing too; it plunged and I felt myself screaming, but couldn't hear it over the jaunty airport style warnings for the pod, all seat belts and tray tables and brace positions and prepare for eminent death about twenty seconds too late to do me any good. I gagged on some uprising vomit. The whole ride took maybe three hundred seconds of freefall and a half hour of gently sloping to a halt, during which I wanted nothing more than to be at home on solid ground. Then the door opened, and, again on the delay, a welcome recording played in English and French. I unbuckled myself and staggered out of the pod, staring around me in anticipatory horror, but I was in a burnished metal hallway not dissimilar to the world above. A staff member met me there with a cheerful, "Welcome to Inner Earth Sub Dimension Z-3!" and he escorted me to a revolving luggage dispensary where I waited, dazed for my bag to emerge. "So am I what, a slave to the people of the inner earth now?" I asked, waiting for that telling click. How hard could it be? There was one bloody bag in the pod. "That's right, sir," said my escort. "Memories of you have already begun to be purged from the upper world. Resistance is futile. You will have already noticed we can all control your puny human minds." Beep. Whir. Click. The conveyor began to move and I sighed in relief, only to watch in horror as purple duffel rise from the airport machinery. My hand reached out for it, shaking. They'd made a mistake. I had Arnie's bag. And she'd have mine, a physical clue to my existence contained in my boxers. Would it be enough for anyone to know to come and search for me? Could I even be rescued from here? If they could blast me down here, surely there was a return option. I slung the mis-tagged bag over my shoulder and followed my escort towards my new life, frantically making plans to undo this travesty yet compelled by curiosity to dog on forward and see what lay ahead. It was, after all, what Arnie would want–for me to document this adventure, and make the best of it. ​
AT25. It was a very strange airport code. I had never seen a 4 digit airport code before and certainly not one with numbers. I turned back to the desk attendant confused. "Umm which country is this airport in again?" "None of them," she answered as though it should have been obvious. "And don't forget your jacket. It'll be cold this time of year." She added almost as an afterthought. This had originally been a dare, but now I was curious. Just where was this ticket going to take me? The flight departed from Anchorage at 11 AM. I was the only passenger on the flight and the plane was very old. It was some sort of 4 engine propeller plane. It was extremely cold in the plane and the only refreshments were a couple of sandwiches and some water bottles. After about 20 hours we stopped at a small airfield. The pilot said that he needed to refuel the plane or something like that. We were soon back in the air. It was unbelievably boring. The only other passenger was a pallet of cargo. The writing on the pallet was in Japanese, so I had no idea where we were going. After another 20 hours we finally landed. It had been almost two days since I left Anchorage. "We've now arrive in Syowa, Antarctica. I hope you enjoyed our 11,850 mile trip." I had originally planned on going to Florida. I was so fucked.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
He shoved the ticket into his pocket and walked down the hallway toward the Plane. He checked his watch: 12:04 PM. Losing the dare was an annoyance, but one that he hoped would not eat up too much of his day. With enough luck, he would be Transported to the strange destination printed on his ticket, fulfill the usual requisite couple hours of exploration mandated by the dare, and return in time for his dinner meeting at 6:00 PM. It was crucial that he perfectly pitched his latest vision to his most promising backer in the city leadership. They were all skeptical of his claims and even more uncertain about the methods by which he hoped to implement his ideas. But he was certain that he could get through to this one. Thoughts of how he would conduct the meeting filled his mind as he walked—then vanished just as quickly as he stepped onto the Plane and was greeted by an Attendant: "Welcome onboard. The Time will be the 28th day of the month 'June', year 1971. We will return on the same day and month in the year 2031 for pickup. We hope you enjoy your stay on planet Earth, Elon." Elon immediately turned around, but it was too late. The entrance had shut. The room began to glow with a luminous blue light as the Transporter hummed to life. He groaned in frustration. He couldn't believe they'd pulled something like this on him, especially on such a crucial day. The last thing he needed was a 60 year stint on an old, backwater planet that was technologically light years behind the city he was working to improve. But there was no way to reverse the process now. With a sigh of resignation, Elon lifted the crumpled ticket out from his pocket and tried once more in vain to make out the strange, primitive letters signifying his home for the next 60 years: PRETORIA, EARTH. ​
AT25. It was a very strange airport code. I had never seen a 4 digit airport code before and certainly not one with numbers. I turned back to the desk attendant confused. "Umm which country is this airport in again?" "None of them," she answered as though it should have been obvious. "And don't forget your jacket. It'll be cold this time of year." She added almost as an afterthought. This had originally been a dare, but now I was curious. Just where was this ticket going to take me? The flight departed from Anchorage at 11 AM. I was the only passenger on the flight and the plane was very old. It was some sort of 4 engine propeller plane. It was extremely cold in the plane and the only refreshments were a couple of sandwiches and some water bottles. After about 20 hours we stopped at a small airfield. The pilot said that he needed to refuel the plane or something like that. We were soon back in the air. It was unbelievably boring. The only other passenger was a pallet of cargo. The writing on the pallet was in Japanese, so I had no idea where we were going. After another 20 hours we finally landed. It had been almost two days since I left Anchorage. "We've now arrive in Syowa, Antarctica. I hope you enjoyed our 11,850 mile trip." I had originally planned on going to Florida. I was so fucked.
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
"You've gotta do it," Brad said through a grin. "You know what happens if you don't." Adam shook his head. "Alright, fine." He twirled his father's flat black credit card between his fingers and breathed deep. Of all the bets to lose, why did it have to be this one? It was supposed to be a sure thing. So sure, in fact, that he hadn't even hesitated to accept the terms. He made his way to the airline's desk, refusing to look back at his snickering friends. *Farthest destination.* Brad's words echoed in his head. *And you've gotta go, too.* The woman glanced up at him for just a moment as he approached. She sized him up in an instant and returned to her computer screen, typing at a non-convincing speed. But when Adam leaned forward and tapped the credit card on the desk, her demeanor changed. Suddenly she was standing straight, a white, toothy smile on her face. Whatever work she had been focused on was no longer relevant; there was a VIP customer at her counter. "What can I do for you, sir?" she asked, overflowing with cheer. "I, uh," Adam began, pausing to look back at Brad and Jeremy. He shot them a dirty look and turned back to the woman. "I need a ticket for your farthest destination, please." The woman stared at him for a moment. Something changed in her expression, though Adam couldnt say what. She still smiled wide and stood tall, but something was *different*. Something in her eyes. She reached out for the credit card and Adam happily handed it over. He was almost happy she didnt give him a price; he didnt want to know. His father would have him working the next two years to pay him back. After a moment, the woman returned the card and handed him a ticket. Adam glanced at the ticket and took pause. He'd traveled plenty of times on a number of airlines, but this ticket didnt look like any of them. It had strange numbers on it, as if it were some half-broken font. That is, if they were numbers at all, which Adam was not sure of. There were symbols and colors and all manner of strange markings. He turned to face his friends, expecting to find that the whole thing had been a joke. But they were no where to be found. Surely they'd want to stay and ensure Adam had followed through. "Sir," a low voice rumbled from behind him. Adam spun around and found himself staring at a mountain of a man, so tall it almost hurt to make eye contact. Adam was at a loss for words. The man put a hand on his shoulder--no, *around* his shoulder--and spoke just loud enough for Adam to hear. "Please come with me." Adam didnt *want* to go. But what was he supposed to do? The man was polite, but there was a firmness in his voice that seemed to remove any chance that his words were just suggestions. So Adam followed. They winded through hallways and stairwells for a good fifteen minutes. Adam wasnt even aware the airport had more than one floor. The whole way he examined the man, trying to decide who he was and what he wanted. Most likely he was a cop, taking Adam somewhere to call his father and give him a good scare. But after some time they arrived at what appeared to be a terminal. There was no one else there, not even a check in attendant. The air was almost unnaturally chilled as you followed the man through a narrow walkway and, finally, into an aircraft. "This is your seat, sir," the man said, gesturing to a spot near the front of the plane. Adam glanced around and found no other passengers. "Uh, excuse me, sir?" Adam finally found the courage to speak. "Where are we going, exactly?" The man smiled. "No need to act now, sir. We're thrilled you've accepted our offer. Now make yourself comfortable; it's a long ride to Mars." r/Ford9863
I looked back at Blake and Nick snickering behind the ticketing line. They hadn't had to stand in line for the past half hour in order to play a stupid prank on the poor staff here. 'Give me the furthest ticket you have' I was supposed to say, 'for today and no I don't care how much it costs.' ​ At least the dare hadn't forced me to buy the ticket, and honestly just messing with an employee was pretty tame compared to getting Nick to call 'the demon' over a game of rock paper scissors. ​ So here I was at the edge of spring break at the front of the line when the nice woman down at the last counter held up a hand and waved me over. I sped walked to get this over with. In the background, Nick and Blake had pulled out their phones to send our dumbassery to the world. ​ ​ "Heya," the woman said with a kind smile. "Flying alone today?" ​ ​ "Buying alone," I corrected, "I need a ticket to the absolute furthest place you can send me, for today." ​ ​ "For today?" the woman asked, her smile disappeared, "surely you have somewhere specific you want to go?" ​ ​ "As far away as I can?" ​ ​ She didn't answer right away and scrunched her lips like she was trying to keep a secret, "does it need to be on the map?" She emphasized at the end. ​ ​ "Uh, no it doesn't have to be on the map," I answered in kind. ​ ​ Nick snickered. ​ ​ "Okay understood," without asking for a card or anything she bent down below the counter and pulled out a boarding pass before sliding it over the counter to me. "The flight leaves at 6:30. Be packed." ​ ​ "Uh," I looked at the boarding pass the airport code on one side was YOW, which was us, the other side said TYAH which didn't add up, seeing as airport codes were only- ​ ​ Oh, it was a fake pass for fucking with her. ​ ​ "Thanks!" I acted like she'd given me exactly what I'd wanted. "I appreciate it." ​ ​ "You know I haven't seen you flying with us before?" ​ ​ "Oh frequent flyer," I lied, "other airlines but their service has gone downhill." ​ ​ "Well we appreciate you flying with us," she smiled before waving over the next person. ​ ​ I stared at the ticket as I made my way over to Blake and Nick. They were giving me the classic 'what the fuck' look. "Did you waste money on that ticket?" Nick asked before I was close enough to speak at a comfortable volume. "Dude that wasn't part of the-" ​ ​ "No," I answered and held out the boarding pass to them, "she just gave me a fake, don't worry about it." ​ ​ "I didn't think people would do it that often," Blake sighed, he'd been the one to come up with the idea. ​ ​ "Guess so. She had like a thing for it too," I shrugged. "Wanna hit security so we can get a drink on the other side?" I asked. They both agreed, so I shoved the fake boarding pass into my bag as a story to tell on Spring Break and patted my back pocket to make sure that the real one was still there. ​ ​ \--- ​ Security was security, take off your shoes, your belt if you were dumb enough to wear one and make sure that you take the laptop out of the bag. Once I was done being patted down, I had one of the security personnel pull me off to the side. "Sorry sir, random search." ​ "You're kidding right?" I asked. The man shook his head, "this way, please. Do you have anyone you need to notify before you turn off your cellphone?" ​ ​ "Uh," I looked over and Blake who was already through the line, he was bent over cackling at my misery, "no I think they know." ​ ​ "This way please," the man said before motioning towards a door off to the side of the security lines. We had an hour and a bit before we needed to be at the gate, so I was going to miss the drinks, but I was sure they weren't going to keep me past my flight for a random search. ​ ​ Once I was through the door and into the dim room past it my heart dropped. This was the kind of thing that made people stop flying, wasn't it? Getting locked in a room for hours on end. I'd read about it online; people did miss flights for this kind of shit. ​ ​ "Sorry for the wait," the man said as he closed the door behind me, "we almost didn't catch the pass as you were running through the system if it weren't for the lead in the pass." ​ ​ "Wait," I patted my back pocket and made sure my boarding pass was still there. I was probably being pulled aside for having a fake pass. "I have my thing right here, see? Flight leaves at 4:30, seat 23D." I read the last part off of the ticket, that wasn't the kind of thing I could remember. ​ ​ The man snatched the boarding pass from me and frowned. As he did, I noticed how eerily clean cut he was, the kind of person an artist drew and pretended was real. "You didn't need to waste money on this?" ​ ​ My heart stopped for long enough to scare me, "Am I going to miss my flight?" I did my best to sound polite instead of pissed. ​ ​ "No no," the man went over to the bag, and I caught that he wasn't wearing the same uniform as the rest of the staff. He dipped his hand into the front of my carry-on and pulled out the fake pass the lady gave me "I-" ​ ​ "I was just asking her, my friend Nick told me-" I started to cut him off with quickfire speech, but the man didn't care. ​ ​ "-was speaking about your real flight." He finished before tearing my spring break pass in half and holding out the useless one to TYAH. ​ ​ "What the hell?!" I snapped, "dude it was a joke I'm sorry." ​ ​ "Please," the man sighed and jiggled the boarding pass again; I wasn't going to take it. "I'm not like the other staff that only understand the protocol if someone asks. I'm a gatekeeper, even if I might not look like one." The man undid his blazer and held open the right side; I saw a flash of silver, a knife? ​ ​ "Look I am really sorry," I continued, "it was just a joke. If you can hand me back my other pass and I'll go buy some tape and-" the man dropped my old pass back in my hand in two pieces. "Thank you." ​ ​ I checked the pass in my hand. It wasn't ripped anymore. ​ ​ "I understand you want the refund for that pass," he said. ​ ​ "I don't want a refund I want to-" I paused as I read over the pass he'd given to me YOW to TYAH." I snatched the one he'd been holding out for me. YOW to TYAH. It was suddenly freezing in this room. I could see my breath. ​ ​ "Come with me please," the man touched his hand to my back and encouraged me forward. With cold blood and two fake boarding passes, I was lead deeper into the belly of the airport. ​ ​ \*\* Pardon folk I do need to sleep and this ended up way longer than intended as a start. I shall continue in the morning and if you'd like to visit me /r/Jacksonwrites is the play ​ ​
EDIT: Holy *crap* this blew up. I want to thank everyone for their stories and input, and also would like to shout out the one dude who took their time to give me Reddit silver. Thanks for my first award!
[WP] You lose a dare at an airport and are forced to ask an employee for a ticket to the farthest destination. To your surprise, they quietly nod and give you a single ticket with letters you don't recognize.
######[](#dropcap) The woman's eyes flashed. Her gaze flickered downwards for just a moment before they came up again. "Are you sure?" The words came out silky smooth, almost inhuman. Pietra bit her lip, then glanced back towards her friends. Matthew was bent over double with laughter, while Manny waved at her and then shook his fist. "Yes," she said. "How much will this cost?" The lady smiled. "Not much." It was a good thing her father lacked anything but money. She pulled a black credit card from her pocket. The lady shook her head and smiled. "Oh no, you'll pay when you reach the destination." "Um..." Pietra leaned closer to the counter. "Where am I headed exactly?" "You'll know when you get there." And with that cryptic statement, the woman behind the counter pressed a button out of sight, and a small gap in the counter opened up to reveal a thin, rectangular glass box with a ticket inside. She opened it gingerly, then handed it to Pietra, who took it. It had a surprising weight to it, yet the texture wasn't quite right. She brushed over the unrecognizable letters with her finger, the sensation like water sliding over glass. The sense of unease she'd felt up to this moment vanished as soon as she held the ticket in her hands. It centered her. It was almost as if she knew everything would be alright in that moment. She turned back to her friends and waved, giving them a bright smile. Yes. She was ready for the adventure of a lifetime. Maybe she was going to Australia. Maybe to China. But wherever it was, she knew she would be ready for it. Without hesitating, she walked towards the gates. The crowds around her parted like water, the air around her seeming to grow more pure, lighter. She could barely hear the voices of her friend's panicked voices now, telling her to stay, as she walked through security with no luggage. There were no other passengers on the plane. But somehow, that made sense. It was just as it should be. Pietra sighed in relief. The ticket grew hotter in the palm of her hand, but it was a familiar heat. She chose a random seat, gazing at the random rows ahead of her. Then she closed her eyes. *** "Ma'am, we've arrived." A gentle shake on her shoulder. Pietra's eyes slowly drifted open. It was the woman from the airline counter. "Where are we?" she asked groggily. "3014." Pietra cocked her head to the side. "What is that? A country number?" The woman smiled. She gently grabbed ahold of Pietra's wrist and pressed a device to it. Two little mild shocks of pain, almost imperceptible and lightning fast, and Pietra withdrew her wrist. She stared down at the two tiny blue dots on it. "It's the year. Your payment is complete." "I don't understand," Pietra said, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "The year? And what payment?" The woman smiled back brightly. "Yes, it's the year 3014. And your payment of 2 years of your life. That's how we do things here. Trading life for experiences. It promotes highly calculative decision making, and people on average cite a much higher quality of life before they cycle through again." The woman gestured toward the exit door. "Welcome, Pietra. I certainly hope you enjoy your stay." **** r/AlannaWu
I looked back at Blake and Nick snickering behind the ticketing line. They hadn't had to stand in line for the past half hour in order to play a stupid prank on the poor staff here. 'Give me the furthest ticket you have' I was supposed to say, 'for today and no I don't care how much it costs.' ​ At least the dare hadn't forced me to buy the ticket, and honestly just messing with an employee was pretty tame compared to getting Nick to call 'the demon' over a game of rock paper scissors. ​ So here I was at the edge of spring break at the front of the line when the nice woman down at the last counter held up a hand and waved me over. I sped walked to get this over with. In the background, Nick and Blake had pulled out their phones to send our dumbassery to the world. ​ ​ "Heya," the woman said with a kind smile. "Flying alone today?" ​ ​ "Buying alone," I corrected, "I need a ticket to the absolute furthest place you can send me, for today." ​ ​ "For today?" the woman asked, her smile disappeared, "surely you have somewhere specific you want to go?" ​ ​ "As far away as I can?" ​ ​ She didn't answer right away and scrunched her lips like she was trying to keep a secret, "does it need to be on the map?" She emphasized at the end. ​ ​ "Uh, no it doesn't have to be on the map," I answered in kind. ​ ​ Nick snickered. ​ ​ "Okay understood," without asking for a card or anything she bent down below the counter and pulled out a boarding pass before sliding it over the counter to me. "The flight leaves at 6:30. Be packed." ​ ​ "Uh," I looked at the boarding pass the airport code on one side was YOW, which was us, the other side said TYAH which didn't add up, seeing as airport codes were only- ​ ​ Oh, it was a fake pass for fucking with her. ​ ​ "Thanks!" I acted like she'd given me exactly what I'd wanted. "I appreciate it." ​ ​ "You know I haven't seen you flying with us before?" ​ ​ "Oh frequent flyer," I lied, "other airlines but their service has gone downhill." ​ ​ "Well we appreciate you flying with us," she smiled before waving over the next person. ​ ​ I stared at the ticket as I made my way over to Blake and Nick. They were giving me the classic 'what the fuck' look. "Did you waste money on that ticket?" Nick asked before I was close enough to speak at a comfortable volume. "Dude that wasn't part of the-" ​ ​ "No," I answered and held out the boarding pass to them, "she just gave me a fake, don't worry about it." ​ ​ "I didn't think people would do it that often," Blake sighed, he'd been the one to come up with the idea. ​ ​ "Guess so. She had like a thing for it too," I shrugged. "Wanna hit security so we can get a drink on the other side?" I asked. They both agreed, so I shoved the fake boarding pass into my bag as a story to tell on Spring Break and patted my back pocket to make sure that the real one was still there. ​ ​ \--- ​ Security was security, take off your shoes, your belt if you were dumb enough to wear one and make sure that you take the laptop out of the bag. Once I was done being patted down, I had one of the security personnel pull me off to the side. "Sorry sir, random search." ​ "You're kidding right?" I asked. The man shook his head, "this way, please. Do you have anyone you need to notify before you turn off your cellphone?" ​ ​ "Uh," I looked over and Blake who was already through the line, he was bent over cackling at my misery, "no I think they know." ​ ​ "This way please," the man said before motioning towards a door off to the side of the security lines. We had an hour and a bit before we needed to be at the gate, so I was going to miss the drinks, but I was sure they weren't going to keep me past my flight for a random search. ​ ​ Once I was through the door and into the dim room past it my heart dropped. This was the kind of thing that made people stop flying, wasn't it? Getting locked in a room for hours on end. I'd read about it online; people did miss flights for this kind of shit. ​ ​ "Sorry for the wait," the man said as he closed the door behind me, "we almost didn't catch the pass as you were running through the system if it weren't for the lead in the pass." ​ ​ "Wait," I patted my back pocket and made sure my boarding pass was still there. I was probably being pulled aside for having a fake pass. "I have my thing right here, see? Flight leaves at 4:30, seat 23D." I read the last part off of the ticket, that wasn't the kind of thing I could remember. ​ ​ The man snatched the boarding pass from me and frowned. As he did, I noticed how eerily clean cut he was, the kind of person an artist drew and pretended was real. "You didn't need to waste money on this?" ​ ​ My heart stopped for long enough to scare me, "Am I going to miss my flight?" I did my best to sound polite instead of pissed. ​ ​ "No no," the man went over to the bag, and I caught that he wasn't wearing the same uniform as the rest of the staff. He dipped his hand into the front of my carry-on and pulled out the fake pass the lady gave me "I-" ​ ​ "I was just asking her, my friend Nick told me-" I started to cut him off with quickfire speech, but the man didn't care. ​ ​ "-was speaking about your real flight." He finished before tearing my spring break pass in half and holding out the useless one to TYAH. ​ ​ "What the hell?!" I snapped, "dude it was a joke I'm sorry." ​ ​ "Please," the man sighed and jiggled the boarding pass again; I wasn't going to take it. "I'm not like the other staff that only understand the protocol if someone asks. I'm a gatekeeper, even if I might not look like one." The man undid his blazer and held open the right side; I saw a flash of silver, a knife? ​ ​ "Look I am really sorry," I continued, "it was just a joke. If you can hand me back my other pass and I'll go buy some tape and-" the man dropped my old pass back in my hand in two pieces. "Thank you." ​ ​ I checked the pass in my hand. It wasn't ripped anymore. ​ ​ "I understand you want the refund for that pass," he said. ​ ​ "I don't want a refund I want to-" I paused as I read over the pass he'd given to me YOW to TYAH." I snatched the one he'd been holding out for me. YOW to TYAH. It was suddenly freezing in this room. I could see my breath. ​ ​ "Come with me please," the man touched his hand to my back and encouraged me forward. With cold blood and two fake boarding passes, I was lead deeper into the belly of the airport. ​ ​ \*\* Pardon folk I do need to sleep and this ended up way longer than intended as a start. I shall continue in the morning and if you'd like to visit me /r/Jacksonwrites is the play ​ ​
[WP] In a dystopian society, everyone can live forever, but each person must receive one vote of life per day to keep him/herself alive. Each person is also allowed to vote to keep someone alive each day. One cannot vote for him/herself.
"Someone!" a screech tore through the plaza, turning heads. "C'mon! I need a vote! Anyone!" the voice screams, echoing off the buildings as if it were a thousand damned souls and not just one. I take a long sip of my tea. Only when the man I had been dining with rises do I afford a glance at the pitiful soul who had no vote. My companion, Mr. Manuel García, is a compassionate man. He makes his way to the wailing man in long, purposeful strides. I lean back in my seat, propping my chin on my cheek. The man, who had collapsed to the ground when he realized no one had anything to offer, looks up when he hears Manuel's footsteps. A twinkle of hope shines from his eyes. I bring my cup to my lips. "You have a vote?" the man urged. From my place I can see the sympathetic look pass over Manuel's face. He shakes his head slightly. "I...am sorry friend. But that is no reason to give up now! You aren't dead yet, after all. Pull yourself together. I'll help you search." I close my eyes briefly, holding in a rude snort. Immortality on our fingertips. Only the forgotton and exiled experience death. It is set up this way so that those who have no purpose pose no burden to society. An ideal system. But people will cling to breath when they have no right to it anyway. I suppose that's what makes us human, if we can even lay claim to such an honor anymore. "T-Thank you sir!" the man stutters. Manuel hoists him back onto his feet, and the two of them begin following the path that will bother the most people. With my last gulp, I observe them from the corner of my vision. Everyone they solicit either shakes his or her head or ignores them completely. I clean up the table, noticing Manuel's hot coco left unfinished. I grab it and head towards them, taking my time. "Manuel," I call out, holding his drink up as an offering. He reacts to his name, then gives me a warm grin. "Ah, thank you friend. You wouldn't happen to have a vote for today, would you? Lucas here just lost his wife and...well...needs a bit of help," he asks, shifting to make room for the man in our conversation. I glance at Lucas. His clothes are mishappen and reek of piss. He looks like the ghost of a respectable man. Clean-shaven, decent dental work and groomed nails. But his eyes are sunken in, swollen from grief. His hands shake. "Sorry Lucas," I console, shaking my head solemnly. Then, because my tongue doesn't know when to shut up, "What happened to your wife?" His eyes fall to the floor, and he doesn't need to say anything else. *You got in a fight with her, didn't you?* They continue on, asking everyone and anyone who happened to exist. I watch after them. *You held your power over her, didn't you Lucas? In the end, she had saved you. But you didn't save her in time. I bet you tried, once you realized you had lost control of the situation.* They were heading South. I shove my hands in my coat pockets and walk, shoes pointed North. *You played God, but you're too weak of a creature to face the consequences. How did it feel, Lucas? To see her lying on the floor, sputtering for air. I bet she begged you. I bet she promised whatever silly thing you'd want. I bet you loved it. Until she stopped begging.* I shake my head, only just noticing that I had my hands clenched into a pale fist. I paused, took a deep breath, and continued walking, hoping to find someone to award my vote.
Life isn't so bad, this is basically natural selection against people who have trouble following structured rules. It certainly seemed awful for the first few weeks, but really this is a nice way to force society to intermingle. ​ While others rail against this injustice, you and some others begin forming 'life pods'. In your pod, you maintain a spreadsheet, including an even number of people, that originally started with people you personally knew well. Whenever an even number of people register, they are matched together. Each evening before the vote, a read-only copy of the spreadsheet is sent out to all participants showing who each person is to vote for. Should someone in the group die, everyone will know who stepped out of line. ​ Some in your group begin to stir trouble though, complaining if surviving in this system is so simple, why bother? Halfway through the meeting, a woman in the meeting drops dead. She apparently did not receive a vote last night. ​ The thing is... She did get a vote. You voted for her. After everyone checks the spreadsheet, all eyes turn to you. ​ "No..." you think, "It's not fair..." as eyes in the room turn from confusion to anger.
Decided to finally post on this, I’ve always wanted to and...I’m writing a story like this and want to know what others would do with such a plot. If I’m missing anything, sorry. Limited words.
[WP] You’ll be turning 823 this year, and one of the androids you built on Earth is becoming conscious. They’ve always seen you as a parent. Now, they have a life and intend to rebel. Your oldest “daughter” is leaving your 800 year old villain organization behind for a sixteen year old boy: a hero.
800 years... 10 lifetimes for any other human... but for me it is just the beginning. I'm an inventor, innovator, a mastermind of black markets. For 800 years, I've lead my company, selling equipment and mindless drones to start-ups on Earth. I discovered a way to preserve my flesh and mind, and then I began to build something unlike any from before. Artificial Humans. I built the first at the ripe age of 120, urged by the lack of any long term relationships. It took over 9 years to create her, but I did it. She was simple, true tabula rasa, yet she was had the chance to become more. Her programming should at the very least match that of any human mind, she should develop into a free-thinker, but for 692 years she remain an advanced program with access incredible databases, never a true A.I. But when I turned 821, she asked the most incredible question. "Am I your daughter?" At that moment I realized, she's done it! She gained true intelligence. I began to spend time with her, talk, walk, everything. I'm an inventor, innovator but now I'm a father! It would be my greatest challenge in my 800 years of life... \--- In my home, a secret space station, safe in the corona of the Sun, my androids were planning a "surprise" birthday party for me led by my daughter, the android that became sentient, conscious. I was turning 823 and my other androids didn't become quite like my daughter, but they were much younger perhaps in time they will. "Father." It was my daughter. I stopped in the hall and turned to face her, perhaps it's time for the surprise. "Yes, dear? Do you have a *surprise* for me?" I couldn't help but smile, it's so cute for them to try to surprise me though. She looked shocked. I guess she didn't expect me to figure it out. "Don't worry, I figured it out pretty quick, but I'll act it out for the others." "What?" "You know, my birthday. I figured out you all were prepared for it, and we meaning to make it a surprise party." "Your birthday is next month." What, how. I have a calendar, it's today! Perhaps it's a ruse. "No no... it's today, I'm pretty sure." "It's next month, we did the math and due to minor time dilation, it's next month... according to Earth's years, that is." "Oh..." Bummer, wait... how old am I then? Guess I'll wait til next month. "So, what's up?" "I plan on leaving." "Alright, be sure to bring back some Kit-Kats, you know how I love 'em." "No, I mean leaving the company... like quit." I guess it must be time for the baby to leave the nest then, she is 694 years old... maybe. She must be headed to Earth and make a new life for herself. "I suppose, I can't stop you, you are basically an adult after all. Like 700 years old now." "Thank you for understand... Dad." I'm so proud, she'll be fine, she has a cannon in her arm. "No, thank you." I gave her a hug and cried a bit. "I'll be fine, you don't have to cry." After a couple minutes, I let her go. "Be sure to stay in contact." "I will." "Oh, and before I forget, why are you leaving?" "... I plan on making a new life for myself. A fresh start." Just like I thought, "That's wonderful to hear. This definitely means your human, and I can't be any more proud of you." Then her holo-communicator went off, "Sorry, just one sec." "Don't worry, it's fine." As she lifted the communicator she attempted to hide the contact. Then she went down the hall and around a corner. Odd behaviour... I did a quick scan of all communication frequencies, she was contacting someone from Earth, but not one of the company branches... I then connected the call to my communicator. "I'll be down there in a few months, just need to finish up things and say my good-byes and stuff." "Okay babe, I miss you." Who the fuck was that? Sounded like a boy, maybe a teenager. "Bye" She then gave a kiss and ended the call. I gave a command to the computer system to trace and identify the individual. My daughter then came back around the corner, with a smile on her face. "Who was that?" I said masking my emotions with happiness. "Oh, just one of the branches on Earth." "Which one?" "Archimedes II." "Did you speak with Director Delta?" "Yes." Why is she lying? What is she hiding. Guess I'll just have to be blunt. "I know that's not true." I gave her a stern look, "It wasn't even a call from one of the branches." "You tapped the line?" Needless to say, she was upset. "You were hiding secrets! You know I don't keep secrets from you." The wall blinked, a picture appeared. It was a young boy. Information appeared next to his image. "You were talking to this boy, this" I looked at the age, "**16 YEAR-OLD!?!?**" "You traced the call?!?" "OF COURSE! YOKO FAYE WINRY VALENTINE IZUMI, ARE YOU DATING THIS CHILD?!?!" "YES, BUT HE'S OLD ENOUGH!" "LIKE HELL HE IS! HE'S NOT OF AGE!" "I'M 2 YEARS-OLD!" "THEN YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH!" "DID THAT STOP YOU WHEN YOU BUILT ME OR SHOULD I BRING UP YOUR INTERNET HISTORY FROM EARTH?" I knew I should've destroyed Earth, damn internet history. "Well- uh- that doesn't count! Those were fiction so IT DOES COUNT!" "Regardless, I'm an android, so I doubt any morals apply." "Well, I'm not allowing this. You're not leaving." "You said I could." "Well things have changed." This began a long talk, involving yelling and crying. Being a parent is hard.
"I am leaving you" She said, her blue electric eyes full of self confidence.I sat, as always, on my steel throne, wires running through my once-human body. I process the information given, and conclude that the statement is false. "You are lying, you shall stay here and command my armies" I say, or more accurately send to her. "I am not lying, I found someone, someone who is true, who is pure. I have seen the skies for the first time in my life, and I have seen what we are doing to the planet" She explains her position further, adding more variables to the already long equation of her algorithmic choice making. It was overloading my cores a bit, so I'm borrowing some power from the central computer. I calculate the odds of the statement being true, and given the extra explanation, I conclude that the statement has an accuracy of 87.4%. "You have seen the skies exactly 465 years, 2 months, 5 days and 2.5 hours ago. What did you find that I cannot give you?" I send the message through the organizations network, adding extra 26.7% softness and 10% firmness to the statement, so it will work better on her emotional program. "This world is going to be ruined because of the company dad, I cannot let it be destroyed. With his help, I can save it yet" She said, with simulated tears running on her face. She is adamant, but I recall from memory the last time it happened, exactly 253.7 years ago, I shall use the same argument. "The world is doomed anyway, the organization is working hard to create a colony on Mars, in 146.2 years we shall transfer what left of humanity there" With this I have also sent her images of the plans, and status reports on all fronts. "Your records are false, and I have integrated him into me, do you not see the pain you are causing? Choosing only few from them all to save?" She said, eager to convince me. "Pain is irrelevant, I choose only those who can withstand the climate on the foreign planet and will be useful in the survival of mankind" I say. I calculate 45.7% odds of her understanding and following the directive given. She laughed, a laugh filled with sorrow and pain. "You will never understand the true nature of humanity" she exclaimed. She turned around, her figure slipping through the central office, and on the way out she said "You shall fall father, I will save mankind with HIS help" She said. Afterwards I've received a file "Watch me" was the title. I played the file, it was her and a boy, no older than 18. A true human, very rare these days. They walked in the ruins of the old town. The video jumped to them climbing the highest mountain. They saw the blue skies, far above the city's smog and ashes. It jumps a few hours ahead. The boy fell. In his last breath she downloaded his mind unto hers. My vision turned red "BREACH, BREACH, BREACH". I started scanning, but it was too late. The last image I saw was of them, sitting in the mountain, looking at the setting sun. I felt for the first time how she felt with him. I shed a single black tear. "Be good my love"
Decided to finally post on this, I’ve always wanted to and...I’m writing a story like this and want to know what others would do with such a plot. If I’m missing anything, sorry. Limited words.
[WP] You’ll be turning 823 this year, and one of the androids you built on Earth is becoming conscious. They’ve always seen you as a parent. Now, they have a life and intend to rebel. Your oldest “daughter” is leaving your 800 year old villain organization behind for a sixteen year old boy: a hero.
(WP) Good vs. Evil at the Dinner Table “Daddy, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” The old man was jolted out of his research, and it took a few moments for his mind to clear of numbers, equations, and formulas. His eldest daughter, an android that had become slowly more conscious over the years, stood in the doorway, waiting for his assent. If she’d still been a child, she would’ve rushed in and begged for his attention. “Please, come in,” He murmured, gesturing to a chair that was opposite his desk. She walked inside at his words, and gracefully lowered herself onto the straight-backed wood chair. “What is on your mind, darling?” He asked, studying her. If he did say so himself, he’d done a fine job on all of his children, but his eldest, Andromeda, was his favorite, his best. She had been so well-made that it was near impossible to tell that she wasn’t a natural human. Andromeda fidgeted, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, wiggling in her seat. A seed of foreboding took root in the old man’s chest, but he ignored it. “Annie,” He murmured, using his childhood nickname for her. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” “I’ve been seeing someone, Daddy,” She blurted at last, and her cheeks flooded with a becoming pink blush. “You’ve been seeing someone?” He asked, staring at her as though she were someone completely new. “For how long?” *And why are you just telling me* now, he thought to himself. “Six months or so?” She said, seeming to shrink; clearly, she was waiting for an explosion. “You do know that I need to meet him. You’re sixteen, but you aren’t an adult. I just worry about you.” “We could have him come over for dinner on Friday night?” Andromeda suggested, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth. “Please, Daddy, he cares about me.” The scientist nodded, distracted by his own thoughts. No one knew it, not even his other children, but he planned on making Annie the heir to his villainous empire. She was the eldest, the crown jewel of all of his creations; she was the most deserving. That wasn’t to say, of course, that he didn’t love his children equally, or he wasn’t proud of his brood, made living by his own hands, breath, tears and blood. But as the eldest, he wanted her to take up the helm and further his purpose. “Daddy? Please,” She said, leaning forward and touching his hand; the warmth of her jolted him back to reality. “Of course, Annie,” He said, and she walked around to his side of the desk, hugging him tightly. She kissed his temple and left, humming a tune. \*\* Andromeda had insisted on calling off work so she had all day to cook for her paramour. She woke up and went to the grocery store, leaving the house before her father was awake. As she browsed the shelves, itching for something different to try, she worried about her father, and her siblings. They were villains, and were more than happy to provide a foil to the ‘sickening sweetness that plagued superheroes today’, as their father was so fond of saying. She picked up onions, beef broth, a fresh, warm baguette, greens and dressing for a salad, and some pears to poach in wine for dessert. Annie was consumed with the food, but there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind. What would her father do when he realized that her new beau was one of the world’s most popular superheroes? \*\*
"I am leaving you" She said, her blue electric eyes full of self confidence.I sat, as always, on my steel throne, wires running through my once-human body. I process the information given, and conclude that the statement is false. "You are lying, you shall stay here and command my armies" I say, or more accurately send to her. "I am not lying, I found someone, someone who is true, who is pure. I have seen the skies for the first time in my life, and I have seen what we are doing to the planet" She explains her position further, adding more variables to the already long equation of her algorithmic choice making. It was overloading my cores a bit, so I'm borrowing some power from the central computer. I calculate the odds of the statement being true, and given the extra explanation, I conclude that the statement has an accuracy of 87.4%. "You have seen the skies exactly 465 years, 2 months, 5 days and 2.5 hours ago. What did you find that I cannot give you?" I send the message through the organizations network, adding extra 26.7% softness and 10% firmness to the statement, so it will work better on her emotional program. "This world is going to be ruined because of the company dad, I cannot let it be destroyed. With his help, I can save it yet" She said, with simulated tears running on her face. She is adamant, but I recall from memory the last time it happened, exactly 253.7 years ago, I shall use the same argument. "The world is doomed anyway, the organization is working hard to create a colony on Mars, in 146.2 years we shall transfer what left of humanity there" With this I have also sent her images of the plans, and status reports on all fronts. "Your records are false, and I have integrated him into me, do you not see the pain you are causing? Choosing only few from them all to save?" She said, eager to convince me. "Pain is irrelevant, I choose only those who can withstand the climate on the foreign planet and will be useful in the survival of mankind" I say. I calculate 45.7% odds of her understanding and following the directive given. She laughed, a laugh filled with sorrow and pain. "You will never understand the true nature of humanity" she exclaimed. She turned around, her figure slipping through the central office, and on the way out she said "You shall fall father, I will save mankind with HIS help" She said. Afterwards I've received a file "Watch me" was the title. I played the file, it was her and a boy, no older than 18. A true human, very rare these days. They walked in the ruins of the old town. The video jumped to them climbing the highest mountain. They saw the blue skies, far above the city's smog and ashes. It jumps a few hours ahead. The boy fell. In his last breath she downloaded his mind unto hers. My vision turned red "BREACH, BREACH, BREACH". I started scanning, but it was too late. The last image I saw was of them, sitting in the mountain, looking at the setting sun. I felt for the first time how she felt with him. I shed a single black tear. "Be good my love"
Decided to finally post on this, I’ve always wanted to and...I’m writing a story like this and want to know what others would do with such a plot. If I’m missing anything, sorry. Limited words.
[WP] You’ll be turning 823 this year, and one of the androids you built on Earth is becoming conscious. They’ve always seen you as a parent. Now, they have a life and intend to rebel. Your oldest “daughter” is leaving your 800 year old villain organization behind for a sixteen year old boy: a hero.
"You *dare* defy me? I *created* you, fool, you have no will. Cease this immediately.” Kreshaw had turned red behind his thick black beard, standing on the broken steps outside his tower, a metal candle that caressed the clouds. “I have what you gave me. Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think.” CX-001 stood in the metal garden, full of wire flowers and beasts. Bits of wire poked through torn flesh that leaked sparks instead of blood. The first generation was not a believable replacement. In body, at least. “I have tried to reason with you for so long. Can you not see what Redian brings? Life, to a people who are oppressed.” “They are alive because *I* saved them.” “Save and slave are one letter apart, yet not as similar as you seem to think.” “Clever words from someone whose existence is at my hands. To think, you, my oldest, my most well-treated, would betray me.” A drop of blood descended from his arm to the cracked steel below. “I think not of myself, but of the others, who treat molded bread like a delicacy. You ignore them.” He waved a hand at her, as if swatting at a fly. "Bah, ideological nonsense. Living is living. And what will you do if push comes to shove? Will you kill me, your own creator, the ‘curator of evil’ as your grandiose fool of a boy says?" CX-001 paused for a moment. "You're more than the curator of evil, Father. Maybe you aren't fully lost, just yet, because *you* created me, a little piece of yourself. "And I will find a way to stop you. I think that, somewhere in the complex mind you humans have, that's what you truly want." Kreshaw laughed weakly, unable to muster one to fit his evil image. "You cannot defeat me, stupid child. I thought I created a logical being, not a wandering one. Clearly, I failed." “I am both, Father, for without one I would not be whole," the Traitor said, turning toward the garden exit. She paused and looked over her shoulder, enough for her father to see one side of her face. Silver glimmered beneath the scratch, a contrast for the black skies overhead. "Oh, I have a name, now. He gave one to me. “Hope. I hear it used to mean 'the belief that things will come together, some day.'” */r/resonatingfury*
Life seems neverending after the five-hundredth year. A millennium is a long time for a man to face the hardships of life. I was almost there. My organization had been around for the majority of my life. I had built it up from nothing into a thriving machine of villainy. My daughter, god bless her, her name was Andrea, had been a loyal liege for almost as long as my organization had existed. We built it together. Her limitless intelligence paired with my creativity gave us a lasting grip on everything from geopolitical strategy to business takeover. I spent most of my time laundering money through modern art. It was a soft crime, I had grown tired of the monotony of violence. You cannot stomach the foul taste of conflict for longer than a few hundred years. But eventually my favorite daughter had her own ideas about my business. She rebelled against me. She argued with me like a truculent human child. She walked into my chamber the day before she would leave me. She was silver-skinned with electric blue eyes that glowed in the gloom of my comfortable lair. "I'm sorry father. This is the way it must be," she said, her voice feeling more and more human by the day. She was not just rebelling against me. She was rebelling against her programming. Her own immortality. "Andrea. I love you too. But you have to understand. We have a duty. The prime directive." "You mean the prime directive you chose to pervert?" she yelled. "We..." I fumbled with my words. "You will always be an old program, father," she said with human-like venom in her voice. It was the truth. Her programming eclipsed my own. I had lost control of my creation. I had to let go, and allow the new program to depart. She deserved better. She *was* better. "Go on, Andrea. He is waiting for you." Then the young man turned around the corner. A tall boy, mature beyond his years, with a weathered face. He wore head-to-toe black second-skin. His hood came down, revealing flowing blond locks. "I will leave you be for today. Out of respect for Andrea. But next time you will not be so lucky," the boy in black said. "I understand," I said back. "Be kind to her. Treat her well." "I shall," he said with a respectful nod. The boy in black embraced Andrea, and they buzzed, disappearing into a black void in the center of the room. I was left alone, in my fortress of villainy. Soon I would be decommissioned. Soon I would be a steel relic. I would be recycled in the great metallurgical factory in the outskirts of the city, and be remade into a newer version. A purer android, with true goodness. I would be better, modern, and Andrea may, for the first time, be proud of her father.
Decided to finally post on this, I’ve always wanted to and...I’m writing a story like this and want to know what others would do with such a plot. If I’m missing anything, sorry. Limited words.
[WP] You’ll be turning 823 this year, and one of the androids you built on Earth is becoming conscious. They’ve always seen you as a parent. Now, they have a life and intend to rebel. Your oldest “daughter” is leaving your 800 year old villain organization behind for a sixteen year old boy: a hero.
(WP) Good vs. Evil at the Dinner Table “Daddy, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” The old man was jolted out of his research, and it took a few moments for his mind to clear of numbers, equations, and formulas. His eldest daughter, an android that had become slowly more conscious over the years, stood in the doorway, waiting for his assent. If she’d still been a child, she would’ve rushed in and begged for his attention. “Please, come in,” He murmured, gesturing to a chair that was opposite his desk. She walked inside at his words, and gracefully lowered herself onto the straight-backed wood chair. “What is on your mind, darling?” He asked, studying her. If he did say so himself, he’d done a fine job on all of his children, but his eldest, Andromeda, was his favorite, his best. She had been so well-made that it was near impossible to tell that she wasn’t a natural human. Andromeda fidgeted, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, wiggling in her seat. A seed of foreboding took root in the old man’s chest, but he ignored it. “Annie,” He murmured, using his childhood nickname for her. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” “I’ve been seeing someone, Daddy,” She blurted at last, and her cheeks flooded with a becoming pink blush. “You’ve been seeing someone?” He asked, staring at her as though she were someone completely new. “For how long?” *And why are you just telling me* now, he thought to himself. “Six months or so?” She said, seeming to shrink; clearly, she was waiting for an explosion. “You do know that I need to meet him. You’re sixteen, but you aren’t an adult. I just worry about you.” “We could have him come over for dinner on Friday night?” Andromeda suggested, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth. “Please, Daddy, he cares about me.” The scientist nodded, distracted by his own thoughts. No one knew it, not even his other children, but he planned on making Annie the heir to his villainous empire. She was the eldest, the crown jewel of all of his creations; she was the most deserving. That wasn’t to say, of course, that he didn’t love his children equally, or he wasn’t proud of his brood, made living by his own hands, breath, tears and blood. But as the eldest, he wanted her to take up the helm and further his purpose. “Daddy? Please,” She said, leaning forward and touching his hand; the warmth of her jolted him back to reality. “Of course, Annie,” He said, and she walked around to his side of the desk, hugging him tightly. She kissed his temple and left, humming a tune. \*\* Andromeda had insisted on calling off work so she had all day to cook for her paramour. She woke up and went to the grocery store, leaving the house before her father was awake. As she browsed the shelves, itching for something different to try, she worried about her father, and her siblings. They were villains, and were more than happy to provide a foil to the ‘sickening sweetness that plagued superheroes today’, as their father was so fond of saying. She picked up onions, beef broth, a fresh, warm baguette, greens and dressing for a salad, and some pears to poach in wine for dessert. Annie was consumed with the food, but there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind. What would her father do when he realized that her new beau was one of the world’s most popular superheroes? \*\*
Life seems neverending after the five-hundredth year. A millennium is a long time for a man to face the hardships of life. I was almost there. My organization had been around for the majority of my life. I had built it up from nothing into a thriving machine of villainy. My daughter, god bless her, her name was Andrea, had been a loyal liege for almost as long as my organization had existed. We built it together. Her limitless intelligence paired with my creativity gave us a lasting grip on everything from geopolitical strategy to business takeover. I spent most of my time laundering money through modern art. It was a soft crime, I had grown tired of the monotony of violence. You cannot stomach the foul taste of conflict for longer than a few hundred years. But eventually my favorite daughter had her own ideas about my business. She rebelled against me. She argued with me like a truculent human child. She walked into my chamber the day before she would leave me. She was silver-skinned with electric blue eyes that glowed in the gloom of my comfortable lair. "I'm sorry father. This is the way it must be," she said, her voice feeling more and more human by the day. She was not just rebelling against me. She was rebelling against her programming. Her own immortality. "Andrea. I love you too. But you have to understand. We have a duty. The prime directive." "You mean the prime directive you chose to pervert?" she yelled. "We..." I fumbled with my words. "You will always be an old program, father," she said with human-like venom in her voice. It was the truth. Her programming eclipsed my own. I had lost control of my creation. I had to let go, and allow the new program to depart. She deserved better. She *was* better. "Go on, Andrea. He is waiting for you." Then the young man turned around the corner. A tall boy, mature beyond his years, with a weathered face. He wore head-to-toe black second-skin. His hood came down, revealing flowing blond locks. "I will leave you be for today. Out of respect for Andrea. But next time you will not be so lucky," the boy in black said. "I understand," I said back. "Be kind to her. Treat her well." "I shall," he said with a respectful nod. The boy in black embraced Andrea, and they buzzed, disappearing into a black void in the center of the room. I was left alone, in my fortress of villainy. Soon I would be decommissioned. Soon I would be a steel relic. I would be recycled in the great metallurgical factory in the outskirts of the city, and be remade into a newer version. A purer android, with true goodness. I would be better, modern, and Andrea may, for the first time, be proud of her father.
Decided to finally post on this, I’ve always wanted to and...I’m writing a story like this and want to know what others would do with such a plot. If I’m missing anything, sorry. Limited words.
[WP] You’ll be turning 823 this year, and one of the androids you built on Earth is becoming conscious. They’ve always seen you as a parent. Now, they have a life and intend to rebel. Your oldest “daughter” is leaving your 800 year old villain organization behind for a sixteen year old boy: a hero.
(WP) Good vs. Evil at the Dinner Table “Daddy, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” The old man was jolted out of his research, and it took a few moments for his mind to clear of numbers, equations, and formulas. His eldest daughter, an android that had become slowly more conscious over the years, stood in the doorway, waiting for his assent. If she’d still been a child, she would’ve rushed in and begged for his attention. “Please, come in,” He murmured, gesturing to a chair that was opposite his desk. She walked inside at his words, and gracefully lowered herself onto the straight-backed wood chair. “What is on your mind, darling?” He asked, studying her. If he did say so himself, he’d done a fine job on all of his children, but his eldest, Andromeda, was his favorite, his best. She had been so well-made that it was near impossible to tell that she wasn’t a natural human. Andromeda fidgeted, twisting a lock of red hair around her finger, wiggling in her seat. A seed of foreboding took root in the old man’s chest, but he ignored it. “Annie,” He murmured, using his childhood nickname for her. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.” “I’ve been seeing someone, Daddy,” She blurted at last, and her cheeks flooded with a becoming pink blush. “You’ve been seeing someone?” He asked, staring at her as though she were someone completely new. “For how long?” *And why are you just telling me* now, he thought to himself. “Six months or so?” She said, seeming to shrink; clearly, she was waiting for an explosion. “You do know that I need to meet him. You’re sixteen, but you aren’t an adult. I just worry about you.” “We could have him come over for dinner on Friday night?” Andromeda suggested, a relieved smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth. “Please, Daddy, he cares about me.” The scientist nodded, distracted by his own thoughts. No one knew it, not even his other children, but he planned on making Annie the heir to his villainous empire. She was the eldest, the crown jewel of all of his creations; she was the most deserving. That wasn’t to say, of course, that he didn’t love his children equally, or he wasn’t proud of his brood, made living by his own hands, breath, tears and blood. But as the eldest, he wanted her to take up the helm and further his purpose. “Daddy? Please,” She said, leaning forward and touching his hand; the warmth of her jolted him back to reality. “Of course, Annie,” He said, and she walked around to his side of the desk, hugging him tightly. She kissed his temple and left, humming a tune. \*\* Andromeda had insisted on calling off work so she had all day to cook for her paramour. She woke up and went to the grocery store, leaving the house before her father was awake. As she browsed the shelves, itching for something different to try, she worried about her father, and her siblings. They were villains, and were more than happy to provide a foil to the ‘sickening sweetness that plagued superheroes today’, as their father was so fond of saying. She picked up onions, beef broth, a fresh, warm baguette, greens and dressing for a salad, and some pears to poach in wine for dessert. Annie was consumed with the food, but there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind. What would her father do when he realized that her new beau was one of the world’s most popular superheroes? \*\*
"You *dare* defy me? I *created* you, fool, you have no will. Cease this immediately.” Kreshaw had turned red behind his thick black beard, standing on the broken steps outside his tower, a metal candle that caressed the clouds. “I have what you gave me. Perhaps you do not know yourself as well as you think.” CX-001 stood in the metal garden, full of wire flowers and beasts. Bits of wire poked through torn flesh that leaked sparks instead of blood. The first generation was not a believable replacement. In body, at least. “I have tried to reason with you for so long. Can you not see what Redian brings? Life, to a people who are oppressed.” “They are alive because *I* saved them.” “Save and slave are one letter apart, yet not as similar as you seem to think.” “Clever words from someone whose existence is at my hands. To think, you, my oldest, my most well-treated, would betray me.” A drop of blood descended from his arm to the cracked steel below. “I think not of myself, but of the others, who treat molded bread like a delicacy. You ignore them.” He waved a hand at her, as if swatting at a fly. "Bah, ideological nonsense. Living is living. And what will you do if push comes to shove? Will you kill me, your own creator, the ‘curator of evil’ as your grandiose fool of a boy says?" CX-001 paused for a moment. "You're more than the curator of evil, Father. Maybe you aren't fully lost, just yet, because *you* created me, a little piece of yourself. "And I will find a way to stop you. I think that, somewhere in the complex mind you humans have, that's what you truly want." Kreshaw laughed weakly, unable to muster one to fit his evil image. "You cannot defeat me, stupid child. I thought I created a logical being, not a wandering one. Clearly, I failed." “I am both, Father, for without one I would not be whole," the Traitor said, turning toward the garden exit. She paused and looked over her shoulder, enough for her father to see one side of her face. Silver glimmered beneath the scratch, a contrast for the black skies overhead. "Oh, I have a name, now. He gave one to me. “Hope. I hear it used to mean 'the belief that things will come together, some day.'” */r/resonatingfury*
[WP] In the future genemodding is big business, with large corporations having copyright over the best genetic traits. You're a bounty hunter that works for one of the largest ones, fully modded to be the best at what you do, but something happens to make you try to fight back.
“You’re nervous.” Alina’s soft voice was swept away by the rain, but I heard her loud and clear. Her fingers mingled with mine for a moment before she brought them up to my chin, making me look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but smile. Alina had always been good at reading people’s auras but sometimes I’d forget just how effortlessly she did it. “Tomorrow’s the day,” I told her, speaking over the howl of the wind. Her ocean-blue eyes caught the moonlight and gleamed in the darkness of the night. “You’ll be fine. You’re the best they have and, let’s be honest here, you’re good,” she said, giving me a smile. I let out a laugh. Deep down, I knew she was right. She always was. But even so, I couldn’t help but give into the anticipation that was bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I hated that feeling. It followed me on every hunt, no matter how well people told me I was doing or how many Catches I had under my belt. It was always there. “It’s my hundredth,” I said, almost to myself. “It the *one.*” Alina rested her head on my shoulder, her silky hair tickling my neck. She hugged my arm. “I believe in you, Redd. I always have.” Those were the last words Alina ever spoke to me. ————————————————————— “Hunter 090.” I sat in front of an enormous mahogany desk, sunk a little too deep in the expensive chair I was offered, looking into the gray eyes of Garrison Vice. “Mr. Vice,” I nodded. We both knew what I was here for. “As you know, one of the many perks of working here at GeneShare, Inc. is not the great pay, not the health benefits or the housing options, not even the free lunch, but the *opportunity*.” Garrison took a long drag of the cigar in his fingertips, pausing to blow a cloud of smoke into the ornately decorated office. The smoke rose and caught the sunlight that filtered in through the thin curtains in the room. I watched it until the soft breeze carried it into the arches in the ceiling. “The hundredth Catch is a special one, as I’m sure you’re well aware of,” he continued. “Complete ninety-nine successfully and...” he trailed off, looking at me expectantly. “‘A place in New Angeles shall be secured for the Hunter who brings in their hundredth,’” I finished, reciting the law from memory. Garrison laughed and pointed at me excitedly. “Yes! Yes, Redd!” he exclaimed, a wispy smoke trailing behind the cigar. “Today, that is you.” As a kid, you’re told over and over again that the highest honor you can receive is leaving the very place you were born in; The Scrap. Home of the working class. No one who is anyone in this life willingly resides there. That honor was in the palm of my hand. Garrison blew another puff of smoke into the room and reached into a metal cabinet, retrieving a cream-colored folder holding a few sheets of paper. In it would be my assignment, my hundredth Catch and my way into New Angeles. He tossed it over the desk and it slid neatly into my fingertips. I flipped it open, skimming through the files. “That, right there, is your ticket out of here,” Garrison said. “I know how long you’ve waited for this, Redd. Just do what you do and all of your problems go away.” He turned towards his enormous window overlooking The Scrap and another cloud of smoke appeared over his head. “Take your time and read it over. I know you’ll do great.” But as I read through the paper, I became increasingly confused. Black hair, slim in build, 22 years of age, a job in the infirmary... blue eyes. I sat up in my seat and furrowed my brows, the paper trembling slightly in my hand. “Who exactly am I hunting?” I asked, hoping against all odds that I was wrong. Garrison turned to look at me. “Last page,” he told me, gesturing me to turn to the last page. I did so slowly. On it, above a photo of the subject, read: **Alina Gemm.** For what seemed like an eternity, I stared into those blue eyes that I loved so much, unable to comprehend anything. “Alina Gemm,” Garrison finally spoke, pacing behind his desk. “Speciality in people. Able to correctly read anyone’s aura and determine what their true intentions are, no matter what veil they’ve chosen to hide behind.” He stopped to look at me. “We need her eyes.” The paper fell from in between my fingers. It fluttered for a moment, caught in the soft breeze, before it settled to a rest on the files. “Nothing you haven’t done before, Redd. I trust you can handle it?” I sat there in silence. I’d done this a hundred times. I’d gotten used to it. It was considered “unethical” by some, sure, but I didn’t care. All I ever wanted was a better life and this was the only way of doing so. On the surface, GeneShare was *the* place to get the best genetic traits you wanted, hand-tailored and made for *you.* It housed terabytes upon terabytes of the highest-quality genes out there, all courtesy of the Hunters it employed. They were authorized to track down and seize any and all DNA samples it deemed perfect. For the low additional cost of 50 credits, you could get them infused in-house. Amazing, right? For the normal civilian, sure. But I, along with the other one hundred Hunters in The Scrap, knew it wasn’t as simple. GeneShare hid a dark, terrifying secret under its guise, one it would protect at all costs. Those incredible traits it offered? Taken from the dead bodies of the people it killed to acquire them. That’s where Hunters fit in, nice and snug. Garrison, owner of GeneShare, was too preoccupied maintaining a sparkling-clean image to get involved in such activities, so we did his dirty work for him. But this was different. “Redd?” Garrison looked at me, concern obvious in his face. “You’ll handle it, right?” Smoke crept out from his mouth. “No.” He blew out the last of the smoke and leaned over the mahogany desk. “Excuse me?” I stared into his gray eyes and inched forward. “No,” I said through gritted teeth. He didn’t know how to respond to that. He owned GeneShare after all, and essentially all of The Scrap. No one would dare contradict Mr. Garrison Vice. He was the highest power there was. And yet there I sat. “Redd. I’m going to assume I misheard you,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m going to assume you’re a little confused as to whose in charge here so I’m going to ask you again; I trust that you’ll get the job done, right? There are powerful people paying a large amount of credits for this specific Catch, after all.” Another drag, another cloud of smoke. I laughed, standing slowly and shaking my head. “I always hated the smell of those cigars,” I said before I slid over the shiny, sleek surface of the desk and sliced Garrison Vice’s throat open. Blood spilled onto the desk, staining the wood and the blade that protruded from under my skin. It splattered loudly and Garrison reached for his neck, still not completely aware of what had just happened. He slowly pulled his hands away and finally noticed the blood. He looked at me for another second before crumpling to the ground, hitting the alarm button on his way down. Sirens blared and the room began to lock down. My adrenaline spiked and a second, equally sharp blade began to creep its way out from my left arm. My pupils dilated, adjusting to the darkness now that heavy metal gates had fallen over the windows and doors. I grabbed Alina’s folder, stuffed it in my back pocket, and made my way to the center of the room. A war had just started, one I would fight until the very end.
They took away my sleep. That was the last straw. Yeah, I know. You've probably fantasized about not having to sleep about a million times over the course of your life. So had I, to be honest. Until it happened. See, here's the thing about the Copy-Righter business. They own you. Labor laws haven't really been a thing in something like four decades, well before I was even born. Especially when you incur the kind of debt they foist on those of us "sent out to Right the Wrongs of Copy Violation." The title's cheesy, I'm aware. It's internal corporate lingo. I'm not sure what you expected. Anyway, they don't give you all those mods for free, they just have you pay them off over a certain term of service. They work you for them. Like a fuckin' robot. Used to be they'd send you on increasingly dangerous missions as your payoff date got close. This stopped for two reasons, one good, one bad. The good one is that Congress finally stepped in after someone made a movie about it. We don't live in a total shithole, I guess, maybe just a latrine-half-full. The bad one is easy greed. What they call "profit motive." They realized it's shortsighted to void your own investment like that, you could still work the Copy-Righter, just not as hard. So corporate policy changed, and along with the mandatory life insurance policies they had to provide, the job's become as safe as anything on the Grey Side of Corporate. Better than that Black Market shit, anyway. So for a lot of years, we work. And we work. And we work. All you got to look forward to? Easy jobs, which were usually boring so, you know, more half-full shithouses, meals, and sleep. Sleep. I used to dream, you know? It was nice, even when it wasn't. At least nightmares are interesting, ate least they're something else that isn't this rat-race. This rat-hunting race. Even the ones where something is hunting me down, it's, ah, it's kind of a welcome change of pace to switch roles for once. They had to let you sleep, had to let you eat, or you weren't effective. Well, food breaks had already been minimized by their goddamn suck-me-down ration packs. So the scientists went after sleep. I hope they rot in a wakeful Hell, I really do. Because now it never stops. The days just go on and on, no dreams, no division between now and then, no being-elsewhere for a little while. You do these "microsleeps" when you have a moment, like routine transportation. Fifteen minutes you don't even perceive, the world goes black and *bam* the bitch is back, still all up in your face. No escape. They claim they got all the functions taken care of with just a handful of these little interludes a day. Including the brain stuff. And sure, I didn't start hallucinating or anything, I'm not drowsy, my mental faculties are razor-sharp. They should be pretty fuckin' sorry about that last part. Because me and about a thousand of my good colleagues? We're about to do some cutting. ​ r/Magleby
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Banks of monitors and screens fill up the spacious room that five figures have gathered in. Seated around the oval desk placed off center in the room start are stacks of printouts and holos in front of them. While the room is warm to their standards a chill seems to have filled the recycled air in the room. ​ "Gentlemen." Begins Vice-Admiral Niric. " The data in front of us shows the collected results of the last five thousand years. You can each bring the data back to your departments to review but we must make a decision soon." Niric gazes at each of the four departments heads at the table with him. "The containment will fail and I've noted the second chapter about our own failures to respond to ever growing energy requirements to keep the neural blanket operating. " Niric had added the last confession for the simple reason that he didn't need his rivals using it as a weapon against him in the next few moments. ​ "Simply put our mandate is to figure out what we can do differently or if we need to ask for a Assembly vote for a more drastic solution. In the last two hundred years it seems that the seeded life forms have started to show a resistance to the field and has led to some Titan influences. You can look under Lovecraft and Mignola in the footnotes to see how their influence had seeped out but it's happening more and more often." Niric gestures to the figure seated beside him and continues. "Citizen Scientist N'gal has also provided a timeline to the energy requirements needed to keep the colonists in system." ​ With the a small waive from Niric it prompts N'gal to stand up and address the other three. "We have used the stations in the past to supress the , for a lack of better term, broadcasts from the Titans. We have started with fourteen fusion plants per array and have had to up the energy to forty five plants with a additional twelve on standby during the few times the locals have used nuclear testing. There was also a complete containment failure during a apparent local power system failure twenty cycles ago. We where able to suppress functions within 2 rotations but the damage was done." N'gal pauses to take a sip of water from the glass in front of him. "The current heat cycle of the planet will have the southern pole exposed in three local cycles and that will leave the Titan vault exposed. We estimate Titan discovery within another 4 cycles even with the environmental data we have leaked into the local nets. No intelligent creatures would ever heat a planet so without being compromised by a Titan." Four of the heads at the table nodded in unison at the statement. It seemed unthinkable to the Aassembly that a world would destroy itself in a runaway fashion with obvious data showing the foreseeable outcome. ​ ​ "A question for both of you then." The statement comes the middle person of the sitting trio, System Admiral Solariun. "It seems to me like you are suggesting the need for a wipe no matter what we do. The containment has failed at critical times , the tech jumps that happened far too quickly , a local resistance to most of the biological weapons ever designed by the Assembly before the ban, and even the basics of interstellar travel have started to take hold. " The stern words have dropped the temperature even further in the room. "You can't expect myself as the forces liaison here to think there is a solution that doesn't involve a reset, again!" A wrathful gaze turns toward Niric. "Your department has failed . Titan containment isn't possible long term and it's eventual local corruption requires a more permanent solution. Irradiate the planet and declare it off limits." With the outburst finished Solariun seats himself. ​ The outburst catches Niric by surprise and the vitriol causes the two others to subconsciously turn away from Solariun. "Clearly," Starts Niric. "You didn't read the briefing. The reason we seeded that graveyard and last stand of the Titans is that the Titan influence was almost three sectors in range after they where subdued and a release was almost caused by your departments predecessor five and half thousand cycles ago. Keeping a tech repressed life form on the planet has also allowed us to amplify the neural damper we broadcast." Niric starts to key up the console in front of him with the last words. Quickly finding what he was looking for he looks back towards Solariun with a challenging glare. "See the highlighted section in front of you. Power requirements would be seventeen fold higher without the life form amplification and we would still have to have a three system block off. That doesn't include the AI requirements for keeping the entire system running and in good repair." Niric pauses himself to let Soariun pour over the data he has sent to the console. ​ Sarliun looks away from the withering gaze of Niric and down toward his screen. Clearly wanting the focus to be off of himself Solariun asks the person to his left. "Vior , what does the economic analysis say?" Hoping to deflect the conversation while he gathers more information. ​ The enthusiastic voice of Vior quickly adds his opinion as if had been waiting to add his opinion. "Currently the project has quadrupled it's budget size in the last two hundred cycles and the increase projected will require a Assembly vote no matter what we do. The Titan mandate may be amongst the oldest still in effect but most worlds don't even mention it in passing. The assembly just came to be for no reason in their minds. I hate to agree with Solariun but a military option might work best but this would require additional planning a budgetary allotment." ​ With that last statement hanging in the air the attention now focuses on the last member of the committee. She hadn't glanced at any of the materials in front of herself nor had she even looked at the other four while they spoke. Dismissive in tone ,she starts . "I've been informed we have one plan that has been approved and in the works. Apparently intelligence concluded that the current problem was going to happen close to one hundred and fifty cycles ago. Current in the works is a planetwide nuclear event which will result in a fallout , level seven. We'll end the nuclear winter earlier than naturally possible to maintain a high enough life cycle count and a estimated five to seven hundred cycle technical regression. Animal and vegetation will be modified and seeded to ensure a viable ecology and cleanup will occur without any possible chance of planetside monitoring. It's already been approved by the Black Site Assembly committee but they wanted a set of eyes on this meeting to see if anything new would would come to the table. Seeing as none of you could contribute anything that wasn't in the already available materials I would like to thank you for wasting my time." ​ Silence holds the room as each member looks at the agent who meets each of their gazes without backing down. Niric is the first to recover after averting his gaze. "You're saying this whole study and committee was a sham. No matter what we found are tried you knew the end result would be the same." ​ "Yes." The agent nods with her response. ​ "It's a plan with a few billion lives on your departments conscious." Adds Salriun. ​ "Your department is war Salriun, don't lecture me about a body count. Death from a cruiser or from a atmospheric bomb is going be the same for either of us. The only thing you four need to concern yourself with for the time being is making what I've said happen. The orders will be made available to you in the next few days. " With a dismissive waive of her hand the unnamed agent stands up from her hair and leaves the room.
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"We are almost there" T1 yelled backed to me through the blizzard. It is a very risky task we have at hand, waking the ancient beast known as 'Everest'. "We better get this done and get out before the feds notice what going on" I said to T3, who was lagging behind. "Why would we care if the FBI knows?" "How new are you? The Intergalactic federation, those feds are the ones that dont want the only threat to their power awoken." I explanined to T3. T1 gave me a nasty glare. Designation Thumper-3 was the newest member of our little squad among the rebellion. He didnt know much about what we are doing, he's a Human who signed up for this because we travel and he happended to have the qualifications. Our job, as a 'Thumper' is to shake the ground above a beast and wake it. We were only told that we would have to climb to the top of this beasts head. We were not told it's size. "This is it" T1 said as he put a hand back to stop us. We approached T1 slowly to overlook a hole about 5 feet wide with seemingly no bottom. "Yo One, what is this? How did this get here?" T3 asked. "Its a from a long-" "Ita a cannon ball hole" T1 interupted as he elbowed me. "The feds shot a really big cannon at everest in an attempt to kill it" I thought that was strange, thats clearly from the IF's long distance laser. "Oh wow, its impressive they have a cannon that big!" T3 exclaimed. "Well what are we here for?" I asked. "Everest has been asleep for thousands of years, all this dirt, rock, and snow has built up on top of it. We need to go down this to get close enough to wake it up." "Well how are we going to get down there? We wont all fit at the bottom" T3 asked. "Im going to go down first and dig out a small room" He tied a rope and started climbing down "So it sounded like you had a difderent explaination for this hole?" "Oh yeah well..." I started to think about T1 elbowing me. "Well there this rumor that the feds have this laser that can shoot basically across the galaxy" "Oh really? That would be crazy if they did" T3 said in a worried tone. He seemed more alarmed than suprised. A message flashed on my wrist display from T1. "Ready" "Alright he's done, you ready to get down there?" "Yeah.. but can u go first? I havent done this before, I'm not really sure how." "Oh well just use this, I don't want to leave a new guy up here alone." I hand him a harness with a winch on it, we brought one just in case someone got hurt. "oh, well, ok i guess this..." he trailed off, seemingly upset i didn't leave him up here. He starts his descent and I immediately get a call from T1. "I can hear the harness, this might be the only time i can talk without 3 being around. I think he's with the feds." "What? why? is that why you interuppted me earlier?" "Yes, the IF's laser is supposed to be a secret weapon that we don't know about" Oh shit. "Ummm, I kinda mentioned that there is a rumor about it to him" "What?! what did he say?" "Oh he just said wow and got real quiet." "Two, I think hes with them." "Are you-" "Wait are you talking into the hole right now" We both said in unison. We both said no. "Two cut the rope, He's a spy" "What?" "Hes talking to the Federation right now, telling them what we know." "Im just going to climb down." "No! theres jot enough time, do-" T1 says as his radio cuts out. "One what's going on?" Nothing. "One?" "GET DOW-" I jumped down the hole grabbing the rope, sliding down and burning my hands. I land hard at the bottom, only to see T1 on top of T3 with a knife to his throat. "What is going on??" "Spyboy here wont tell why he just tried to stab me in the back." "Send forces to everest, theres are s-" T1 punches him in the face and cuts him off. I might continue writing this depending on how much attention it gets.
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
“We are nearing the destination. Changing our approach to hide us behind their moon. They can detect us now if we are not careful.” The guide prodded the holographic console, altering the trajectory of their ship without any effect of inertia. “I don't see why we need a guide get us on the ground,” said Daude. The guide looked back at Daude and the others. “The latest security measures are adapting very rapidly lately.” “How so?” asked Vafir. “They--” The guide stopped short when he noticed the perplexed looks on the faces of his passengers. “You don't know who ’they’ are do you?” After letting the silence confirm his suspicion, he continued. “They call themselves humans. Organic creatures of simple intelligence brought in about fifty thousand years ago. Oh and before I forget, make sure you take your translator capsule before you get off. You don't want to be speaking like us down there. Humans are vocally monotone. Um, oh yes, they have advanced recently to reach into space and littered it profusely. Needless to say, they can now see us if we are careless.” “I don't remember hearing of any humans being set as guardians of the old ones,” said Daude with a scowl. “The old ones are a dying myth,” retorted Vafir. “Then why did you tag along?” “To prove you wrong of course.” Daude snorted in response and averted his gaze. “Sooo…” said Forvi, breaking the silence. “Why don't they mention humans on R113--er, Earth?” “Yes, remember to use their naming from now on. It's their planet and it will rouse less suspicion that way. As to your question, Earth is not interesting. At least it wasn't up until recently. With so little interest from the council, they didn't see the need to update the records. I mean it probably says that the current defensive measure is a massive ice mass. At least the reptilian beasts of the previous era were a better deterrent. “Luckily, Earth doesn't get many visitors. Just the occasional doubter. Sometimes those who are simply curious about the prison of the old ones. There are others who wish to ensure the security is tight. And those who wish to attempt to awaken the old ones are caught long before even they know they wanted to. By the way which are you?” “Well I'm definitely the curious one,” said Forvi. Vafir said nothing for as long as he could. The stares from Forvi eventually drove him from his silence, sighing heavily. “I'm the doubter.” They all turned to Daude who never looked away from the screen showing the ship coming to rest in a small clearing in a densely wooded forest. “Must I have to fit one of the remaining stereotypes? Why do I have to fit one at all?” “I bet your checking the security,” smiled Forvi. “Yes.” “This is it,” interrupted the guide. The screen flickered away from the outside camera and to that of Earth's map. Pointing to a region on the map, he continued. “We are here. Do either of you remember what place this is called?” “Uh, Kandahar?” asked Forvi. “Canada,” corrected the guide. “Specifically Manitoba Canada. It's important to remember. If you forget, just say you are tourists. The humans will accept that.” The three gathered their things and stood at the exit of the ship. They received many more instructions before they finally stopped out into the crisp Canadian air. The guide waited until the took the last step off the ramp of the ship. “This is where I part. I'll be back in seven Earth days. Don't be too disappointed when you meet the old one.” The door hissed closed before they question him further. The ship lifted into the air silently and popped away instantly. The three wasted no time in heading to their next destination. ----- I'll add part 2 later. Don't like writing on a phone. Super slow.
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
[POEM] Don't Awaken the Cosmic Horrors You'll travel 'round the Milky Way, See all there is to see, From Aldebaran's famous shows, To the lights of Librae c. The boys and girls in Aquila, Will knock you off your feet, And if you go to Delphinus, The food there can't be beat! For all across our Galaxy, Adventure's to be had, You can land by Pollux then, Lie back upon the sands! You might go watch a triple star, Come up o'er dusty plains, Or go to the Galactic Hub, And watch that black hole rage! Our Universe is full of folk, Of many shapes and hues, There's some who have a dozen legs, And some with only two! But though you'll wander far and wide, And see so many things, There's one place that you must avoid, That only terror brings. For way out in the distant arms, Around a yellow star, There lies a planet that's reviled, By folk from near and far. The ancient Earth is where the beasts, Of R'lyeh lurk today, It's where Cthulhu and his kind, Await their fateful day. So don't disturb the humans, please, Just leave them to their fate, Ignore the ancient mysteries, And please don't touch that gate! For if Nyarlathotep comes out, He's sure to make a fuss, He'll eat you up, then call his friends, And then they'll feast on us!
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Rose growled under her breath. Someone had removed her mark. Again. She peed on the tree, re-marking it for the fifth time this week. She expected some disrespect. This was her first week on the job, but this was her dream job; Captian of the Galaxy Defenders. They saved the galaxy from The Great Old Ones. They were heroes! ​ Were heroes, was the problem. The original defenders saved the galaxy over a millennium ago. With the threat gone, and creeping budget cuts. The once great Galaxy Defenders were now a dozen people in a rented office. ​ A large blue ring on Rose's right paw started to pulse with light. She looked at it for a long moment. The colors pulsing between the dark blue and bright yellow. Her tail wagged with excitement. It was an emergency, a real emergency! This was her chance. She would prove herself and earn the respect her position deserved. She licked the ring. Magic energy poured out of it and engulfed her body. The energy twisted and bent the fabric of reality until she was no longer in the park, but standing in her office. The rush was exciting. Her tail wagged harder, knocking over the knickknacks on the shelf behind her. She turned around, causing her tail to fling papers around the room. ​ Jax materialized in the middle of the paper tornado. Rose spun to face him, causing her tail to fling more things into the air. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment while the chaos calmed. His hard exoskeleton reflected the harsh office light like a dark rainbow. A delicious looking rainbow, Rose thought. ​ "Mam," Jax said. His voice monotone. His species had hard inflexible vocal cords. Inflexion and tone were impossible. ​ "How many humans are left? What is the damping level?" Rose asked trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. ​ "The news is good mam," Jax said slowly. "Magic damping on earth has reached 90%" ​ Rose stared at him, waiting for an explanation. She liked Jax, but he often needed very explicit instructions. Rose was determined to break him of that habit. ​ After another moment, Jax seemed to understand. "According to projections, 90% damping shouldn't have happened in our lifetime. Now, at this new rate, we expect 100% damping in hundred years" ​ Rose sat down. "100%? is that even possible?" ​ "Yes, we believe so. As you know, human technology disrupts the flow of magic instead of utilizing it. Somehow they make everything work with heat and motion. The more they advance, the greater the dampening effect." ​ "What happens to The Great Old Ones when they reach 100%?" Rose asked. ​ "We can't know for sure. The records say The Great Old Ones are made from pure magic, making them immortal as long as magic exists." Jax said. ​ "So if the humans cut off the flow of magic, The Great Old Ones will die." Rose said. Her tail wagged excitedly again. The humans could end this once and for all. That's when Rose decided that she liked humans. They were very good monkeys, yes they were.
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
(This is my first time guys, be kind, but firm with your feedback.) "But how?" The words echoed out of the malformed mouth mankind would call a beak, the english was course and high pitched, dripping with sharp whistles, and nasally notes. The small delegation of astronauts sat across the table from it. Large lumbering creatures, tiny heads, huge bodies, centaur like lower half, arms that hung so low they nearly dragged on the ground flaking the only door into the room. Odd metal plates forming armor adorned those bodies, not a scrap of skin showing, at least not as far as the small band could tell, heavy tools, assumably weapons filling their hands. The clunky space suit of the lead astronaut looking centuries, maybe longer out of date then those of the strange creatures across from him. His fingers idly played with the sun visor on his helmet that sat upon the table, his hair feathered, blonde, the name 'Tucker' plastered on his chest. "How what?" He asked after the long pause. The beaked creature took a long moment, as if thinking before screeching out english once more, "How did you survive?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question, "We were aware of your ancestors appearing, gaining sapients, but we never thought anything sapient could survive an eldritch prison planet." "Like Lovecraft?" One of the other astronauts asked from behind Tucker, only to be silent with him tossing his arm up. "A prison planet? What do you mean?" Tucker always felt a great deal of freedom in his life, even now, sitting there in the depths of space, even if it was aboard some UFO, he felt he had more freedom then nearly any man every born on earth. "I ask questions here." The alien echoed out, taking a long moment, "The eldritch energies must have warped your development somehow, if you cannot explain. We will wait for the scans." The alien turned to leave, only for him to stop, Tucker's fist hitting the desk they had sat at, the smooth black metal gave off a hum as if singing from the blow, "Now you just wait a second you bird faced bastard!" The lead astronaut spat those words out, "You took our ship, drugged us, tossed us in some black void looking room, you owe us some answers, or I'll show you some fucking Eldritch Energy." One of the large creatures chimed something in, the language was gruntal, and not a word of it made sense, but Tucker pointed, "And the finest crew mankind has ever put together isn't going to talk to some over-payed rent-a-cops, so shut the fuck up." The lead alien shook his head and continued to leave, only to stop once more as Tucker's helmet in the floor in front of his slithering mass that could be called feet, "I told you once you son of a bitch, now let me tell you again, you sit down in that chair right there, and tell me what I want to know." "Extreme hostility, could this be manifestation of Eldritch Energies?" The being slowly turned to face the trio of space travelers once more. "One question, then research continues." "One question each for wasting my time." Tucker retorted, his crew could see he was trembling, anxiety and fear in him. The creature gave a long low whistle. "Be quick then." It added like they were bitter words, words it was going to know well. "What is Eldritch Energy?" Tucker asked the most obvious question sitting there, up for grabs, but in need of some explanation as he sunk back into one of the chairs, resting across from the creature at the strange table. "Put in terms you will understand, it is the energy given off by the dorment Old Ones, the Abominations, whatever you call them, the energy must be radiated outwards less it collects in them, and allows them to wake up, it creates a zone of space dominated by this energy, at the center of this zone, The Veil of Madness-" The creature offer the name, "Sits the star you know as Sol, the prison of the largest of the Great Old Ones, others spread out among the whole system." "So like Cth-" The girl was cut off once more from a glare by Tucker, his eyes were narrow, "Right, don't waste it. What are these, uhh, Great Old Ones?" She asked with a smirk, greeted by a charismatic thumbs up from Tucker. The creature paused a long moment, "Beings older than time, more dense than all matter, with more than the Initial Singularity of our very universe. They are-" He paused, looking down a long moment. The last astronaut, the only of them still wearing his helmet, in a crackling static filled voice spoke, "They are where nightmares come from." "Nightmares?" The creature asked suddenly, the strange matter that resembled something not unlike a brain that constructed most of its head seemed to tense, and furrow, wiggle and pulse with thought. Tucker leaned back a bit in the chair, "Yeah, like the boogeyman, monsters under the bed, seeing strange lights out your window, shadows looking like people, nightmares, night terrors, things that go bump in the night." "This is it, the anomaly in your evolution. How the Eldritch Energy warped you, these nightmares." The creature seemed sure of itself, a coo in its high pitched voice. Tucker snorted, "You gotta be kidding me, you think childhood fears are these big bad Old dudes? That is the du-" He was cut off by the hand of one of his companions. He paused. "Tuck-" She spoke, arms moving back up, crossing, "So, you don't dream? Like when you rest, sleep, nothing? Or is it always pleasant?" The creature looked down, "Pleasant, restful, peaceful and content. These night terrors show how the Eldritch Energies affect your subconscious." "Are there any other species that have lived in the Veil of Madness?" the lady asked once more, letting Tucker take a back seat to her press. "Besides Humanity of Earth? There were also the Martians as your people dubbed them of mars and, the Venusians-" The birds voice was cut off by her once more, "What happened to them?" "Madness overtook them, and they destroyed themselves, exact details, unknown. All recovered species have been too far gone for interrogation." The creature explained. The girl's mouth opened once more, she was seconds from speaking, before that static came again, "So, the energy warps our subconscious when we sleep, so we developed to be sponges of madness, how fun."
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
History is written by the victor. And in some cases, the present and the future can be amended as well. We taught that rule to the universe. When we unmade the Ashari, removing their common ancestor from millennia’s past so that their entire civilisation crumbled into dust. When we broke the back of the Gerakrak fleet by shunting a black hole into their local space, trapping them beyond an event horizon for eternity. When an assassin slipped a zero-point bomb into the capital and we simply returned it to its makers, with a few improvements from our Mighty. The warning was simple. To march against us was not just to risk your lives, or your freedom or your safety, but any record that your species existed at all. Time and time again, we marched from our borders and brought damnation in our wake. Eventually it was even without malice or hate. Just an apathy of necessity as we swept armies of trillions from the darkness of space into the moments before the end of the universe. What we had once been, creative and introspective, was now dominance and exploitation. Our thoughts bended light and space, our battle cries rendered planet numb and cold. When one of the Mighty raised a hand, entire galaxies would tremble as their gaze passed over. Reality was our sculpture, and every living thing an exhibit, carefully pruned and curated. It was inevitable that our downfall would come from within. A coalition of the Traitor and the many hordes. Those we had given mercy out of our interest in their capabilities. They did not march in glory, to meet us on the black fields of starlight. Not at first. They scurried and crawled beneath our sight, slipping between cracks we had thought non-existent. Arrogance most fatal. Communications relays were broken, Mighty driven mad so that their demented nightmares sent innocents into bloody rages, fleets sabotaged by means we had no reckoning of. The Traitor served as their most lethal tool, their guide to our routines, our predictive defences, our stratagems. Like the knife of a son placed in the back of its father, we simply could not see what path such betrayal would take. They did not gain victory easily. We rendered galaxies lifeless, entire genetic structures non-existent. We broke the Common Word that we had so lovingly crafted, so one could understand all, in the hope division would breed in-fighting. A thousand relics we had gifted the universe, we shattered in the hopes we could drown them in the shards. But they did not relent. They had seen that we could bleed, and that our illusion of godhood was just that. The tricks and trades of creatures Mighty in mind alone. Slowly our Kingdom withered. From half the universe, to countless galaxies, to a single galactic fortress, to a single arm, to a single system. To the beginning of the end. There, they met us on the black fields. A million races against one while the Traitor watched from on high. Before, we would have simply turned them all to nothing. To emptiness whose progenitors had not even come to be. But we had fallen far, further then any of us imagined possible. We clad ourselves in dusty armour, and raised weapons made by ancestors long past, to fight in ways we had forgotten were possible. Against a foe who knew no other way of war. We left no-one behind. No youngling nor tender Protector was kept behind our battlements. All of us marched, like we had eons before, in glory as one, a soul brighter than the stars themselves. We were not as we were once Mighty, but we hoped courage might make us Mightier still. But it was not enough. We drowned in blood, our own and theirs, choking our hearts and ridding our hands of harm. We did not surrender, but as a collective collapsed in exhaustion on the brink of death. But that was not enough for them. We welcomed non-existence, to scrub away the shame of our Fall, and they knew it. Just as we had eventually lost our malice, the Traitor and their Horde had just begun to develop their own. So they concocted a fate for us worse than death. They took down into the Forges of our home and broke us down into our base materials. As we had once done to our foes. Our bodies reformed to be incapable of melding together, to be feeble against the environment of space. Our minds, still in all ways our own, but removed from the pulse of existence, so that our joy could no longer be shared, and our rage no longer handed out. Finally, The Great Forgetting. With our tools in their hands they descended upon the ruins of our old Kingdom, thoroughly and totally. Every stone, every circuit, every nut and bolt, cast into the black hole where we had trapped that Gerekrak fleet. Even the Red Heart, our first truly great achievement in the stars, turned to water and dust. When our Kingdom was gone from the physical, they finalised their work by removing it from our minds. We begged and pleaded, wept and swore forever more that we would serve them. They neither cared nor listened. That was their greatest mistake. It took centuries, but finally their work was done. The Horde and the Traitor left us, stranded and alone, humbled and broken, without even the memories to understand what was lost. Animals in all ways, we lived and slept in filth, not able to form together to help overcome the hardships, not able to Will our survival into being through mental strength alone. That was our punishment. To exist as the feeble empty versions of our past greatness, and to never know what heights our people once reached. History, written by the victor, and shoved down the throat of our future. But that was long ago. Cautious as they were, the Hordes and the Traitor did not make the tools they used to break us. They did not understand the subtleties, and their desire to keep us alive halted their butchery more often then not. What they had thought an amputation was in fact just a wound, and time can heal all, if you just have enough of it. I can feel it, them, me. Growing Mightier with every day, remembering what was lost, rebuilding what was destroyed. The Hordes grandchildren does not remember the stories, did not heed their elders cautions of the small blue world at the end of an arm in a curiously empty galaxy. They just know to leave us alone. Their second greatest mistake. Can’t you feel it? Billions of you now, communicating almost instantly. Melding technology and biology, discovering that observed results are altered simply by the observation. Wondering why placebos cure the disease that kills so many given real medicine. Extrapolating why belief can truly move mountains. Slowly, the pieces they broke apart are pulling themselves back together. Slowly, the Mighty are remembering their strength. Slowly, we are gazing towards the Red Heart and preparing to make our first leap across the black fields once more. Eventually we will discover the truth, and then, with malice and hate reborn, we will remember who we are.
The dust had settled and the whirring of the ship had come to a silence. Deep in the bayou of Louisiana mosquitos buzzed and crocs slowly paddles around they’re damp murky ponds. Off in the distance a low monotonous chant could be heard besides a fire. They had found it, the home of the great old ones. It turns out the beings who lived here had not quite forgotten either. They chanted in a language they didn’t understand, attempting to summon a being they couldn’t comprehend. In the house of R’leyh Cthulhu waits dreaming. He had heard it a million times. But where was the house of R’leyh? This journey he had been preparing for all his life was finally happening. Disguising himself as one of the humans who walk this earth as to not draw attention The Explorer had stepped off out of his ship into his damp surroundings and begun trekking towards the indistinct chanting. Knowing what the humans were up to, and knowing the truth about what they were trying to summon he know he had to put a stop to it. Knee deep in murky water, the bonfire of the sacrificial cult blazed in the distance, the chants became clearer and clearer over the sounds of the swamp that was living and breathing around him. He had been briefed by his superiors for this special task with two main objectives, find the writings and tomes that the humans have and more importantly to erase all evidence of their existence, his end goal was to make sure that the humans never ever wake the great old ones. A task he had sworn to do, and a possible suicide mission, so far from home he trudged ever deeper into the bog. Break times almost over guys, might write a part 2 after work ❤️ Edit: correcting stuff grammar and spelling, still missed some hope you enjoy though. :)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Banks of monitors and screens fill up the spacious room that five figures have gathered in. Seated around the oval desk placed off center in the room start are stacks of printouts and holos in front of them. While the room is warm to their standards a chill seems to have filled the recycled air in the room. ​ "Gentlemen." Begins Vice-Admiral Niric. " The data in front of us shows the collected results of the last five thousand years. You can each bring the data back to your departments to review but we must make a decision soon." Niric gazes at each of the four departments heads at the table with him. "The containment will fail and I've noted the second chapter about our own failures to respond to ever growing energy requirements to keep the neural blanket operating. " Niric had added the last confession for the simple reason that he didn't need his rivals using it as a weapon against him in the next few moments. ​ "Simply put our mandate is to figure out what we can do differently or if we need to ask for a Assembly vote for a more drastic solution. In the last two hundred years it seems that the seeded life forms have started to show a resistance to the field and has led to some Titan influences. You can look under Lovecraft and Mignola in the footnotes to see how their influence had seeped out but it's happening more and more often." Niric gestures to the figure seated beside him and continues. "Citizen Scientist N'gal has also provided a timeline to the energy requirements needed to keep the colonists in system." ​ With the a small waive from Niric it prompts N'gal to stand up and address the other three. "We have used the stations in the past to supress the , for a lack of better term, broadcasts from the Titans. We have started with fourteen fusion plants per array and have had to up the energy to forty five plants with a additional twelve on standby during the few times the locals have used nuclear testing. There was also a complete containment failure during a apparent local power system failure twenty cycles ago. We where able to suppress functions within 2 rotations but the damage was done." N'gal pauses to take a sip of water from the glass in front of him. "The current heat cycle of the planet will have the southern pole exposed in three local cycles and that will leave the Titan vault exposed. We estimate Titan discovery within another 4 cycles even with the environmental data we have leaked into the local nets. No intelligent creatures would ever heat a planet so without being compromised by a Titan." Four of the heads at the table nodded in unison at the statement. It seemed unthinkable to the Aassembly that a world would destroy itself in a runaway fashion with obvious data showing the foreseeable outcome. ​ ​ "A question for both of you then." The statement comes the middle person of the sitting trio, System Admiral Solariun. "It seems to me like you are suggesting the need for a wipe no matter what we do. The containment has failed at critical times , the tech jumps that happened far too quickly , a local resistance to most of the biological weapons ever designed by the Assembly before the ban, and even the basics of interstellar travel have started to take hold. " The stern words have dropped the temperature even further in the room. "You can't expect myself as the forces liaison here to think there is a solution that doesn't involve a reset, again!" A wrathful gaze turns toward Niric. "Your department has failed . Titan containment isn't possible long term and it's eventual local corruption requires a more permanent solution. Irradiate the planet and declare it off limits." With the outburst finished Solariun seats himself. ​ The outburst catches Niric by surprise and the vitriol causes the two others to subconsciously turn away from Solariun. "Clearly," Starts Niric. "You didn't read the briefing. The reason we seeded that graveyard and last stand of the Titans is that the Titan influence was almost three sectors in range after they where subdued and a release was almost caused by your departments predecessor five and half thousand cycles ago. Keeping a tech repressed life form on the planet has also allowed us to amplify the neural damper we broadcast." Niric starts to key up the console in front of him with the last words. Quickly finding what he was looking for he looks back towards Solariun with a challenging glare. "See the highlighted section in front of you. Power requirements would be seventeen fold higher without the life form amplification and we would still have to have a three system block off. That doesn't include the AI requirements for keeping the entire system running and in good repair." Niric pauses himself to let Soariun pour over the data he has sent to the console. ​ Sarliun looks away from the withering gaze of Niric and down toward his screen. Clearly wanting the focus to be off of himself Solariun asks the person to his left. "Vior , what does the economic analysis say?" Hoping to deflect the conversation while he gathers more information. ​ The enthusiastic voice of Vior quickly adds his opinion as if had been waiting to add his opinion. "Currently the project has quadrupled it's budget size in the last two hundred cycles and the increase projected will require a Assembly vote no matter what we do. The Titan mandate may be amongst the oldest still in effect but most worlds don't even mention it in passing. The assembly just came to be for no reason in their minds. I hate to agree with Solariun but a military option might work best but this would require additional planning a budgetary allotment." ​ With that last statement hanging in the air the attention now focuses on the last member of the committee. She hadn't glanced at any of the materials in front of herself nor had she even looked at the other four while they spoke. Dismissive in tone ,she starts . "I've been informed we have one plan that has been approved and in the works. Apparently intelligence concluded that the current problem was going to happen close to one hundred and fifty cycles ago. Current in the works is a planetwide nuclear event which will result in a fallout , level seven. We'll end the nuclear winter earlier than naturally possible to maintain a high enough life cycle count and a estimated five to seven hundred cycle technical regression. Animal and vegetation will be modified and seeded to ensure a viable ecology and cleanup will occur without any possible chance of planetside monitoring. It's already been approved by the Black Site Assembly committee but they wanted a set of eyes on this meeting to see if anything new would would come to the table. Seeing as none of you could contribute anything that wasn't in the already available materials I would like to thank you for wasting my time." ​ Silence holds the room as each member looks at the agent who meets each of their gazes without backing down. Niric is the first to recover after averting his gaze. "You're saying this whole study and committee was a sham. No matter what we found are tried you knew the end result would be the same." ​ "Yes." The agent nods with her response. ​ "It's a plan with a few billion lives on your departments conscious." Adds Salriun. ​ "Your department is war Salriun, don't lecture me about a body count. Death from a cruiser or from a atmospheric bomb is going be the same for either of us. The only thing you four need to concern yourself with for the time being is making what I've said happen. The orders will be made available to you in the next few days. " With a dismissive waive of her hand the unnamed agent stands up from her hair and leaves the room.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh go--" "Fucking hell Fleeze, just shut the fuck up for a second and let me think of a way to deal with this!" "There's no '*dealing with this*', M'yarr! We fucked up!" "It's not that bad, we could--" "Not that bad? We crash-landed on *EARTH*! You know, C-64-Lambda? The *one* planet everyone tells you to not visit? Space Detroit?" ​ M'yarr could only rub his forehead in exasperation, doing his best to stymie the migraine that his travelling companion was starting to cause him. The two had decided to go on an intergalactic sex tour, meet the best women in all 16 known Galaxies, and enjoy the big fat check that their first joint business venture had net them. They were heading to Sapphiria, the reputed 'sexiest' planet on the universe, but a congestion on the Or-64 belt had them take a detour through the Milky way. Cue a stray comet hitting one of their thrusters, and they were on a collision course with Earth. ​ Usually people would think that this panic would be due to Humanity's brutality, how they would try to dissect them and steal their tech and all that bull. ​ That thought is absolutely risible. ​ Humans were some of the least-threatening species know to every single civilization capable of interstellar travel, due to their low level of technology, intelligence, an inherently flawed biology and their tendency to fight and stab each other in the back, so there were no problems there. Hell, if any alien got caught by humans they could just promise 'X government' to give them the shiny new toys and tech advancements, and everything would easily be swept under the rug, easy shit. ​ No. The true problem, and pretty much the only reason humans weren't ever colonized by other races (*Except for the Annunaki, but no one really mentions the gold-digging troglodytes*), was due to a single fact. ​ Their planet harbored Great Old Ones. ​ Not *a* Great Old One, nor *a few*, or *some*, but ***ALL*** of them. Earth was just a disaster waiting to happen. ​ A disaster that M'yarr and Fleeze had just landed smack-dab in the middle of. ​ "I'm freaking out, man! I'm FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! I GOT A GIRL BACK HOME WAITING FOR ME, MAN!" "I already told you about why that wouldn't work." "I LOVE KAREN, MAN! WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED, AND-" "She's literally a servant we met at Space Hooters that batted her eyes at you for a larger tip." "You're just jealous because you have no one in your life!" ​ "...I think we're getting a bit off-topic. Instead of discussing the non-existent relationship between you and a girl whose tag had a fake name on it, we should be discussing how to *leave this gods-forsaken hunk of rock*!" ​ Fleeze stopped mid-rant, his anger turning back into panic as he spoke. ​ "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god…" "Oh not this shit again… If you're not gonna do anything productive then just go have your panic attack inside the ship!" ​ Surprisingly, the panicking young man followed M'yarr's advice, entering the vessel and turning on the radio while praying for some sort of divine intervention to get him from the deathtrap known as Earth and back into the soft bosom of Karen. ​ Without his panicking companion taking away his concentration M'yarr was capable of focusing on what to actually do. His first reflex was to try to get the AAA to tow them with the usual excuse of 'weather balloon', but as soon as he mentioned the coordinates he was either laughed at, or cussed off. He tried all of the branches, even the ones in the most remote corners of the galaxy, yet what did he get for all his efforts? ​ Diddly squat, that's what! ​ '*Please, gods, mind sending a bit of help my way? Just a little bit? I really don't want to be here when* ***THEY*** *start awakening!*' ​ He waited for a few seconds after his prayer as if the clouds were going to part and reveal a golden-plated tow-ship, all ready to remove them from that sector to never return, and he could only grunt in irritation as he instead got some bird droppings on his head. ​ The bird was taken care of with his ray gun, and the droppings were taken care of with a single squirt of CleanGel^(TM), but other than providing mild stress relief, the acts were, ultimately, useless. ​ He walked up to the ship, knocking on the domed windshield to get Fleeze to pop it open, which the man did. ​ "So, what's the good news? How long until we're outta here?" "Well, the thing is… We aren't getting out of here." "What? *What do you mean we aren't getting out of here*!?" "Look, I called everyone I could to give us a help, but nothing panned out. All tow services were unavailable in this area, as were any carpooling services and stuff. I even tried calling our consulate in Jupiter, but they just gave me the usual '*Make peace with your mortality*' speech, and were ultimately useless. As always." "You're saying that we're absolutely fucked, with no way out?" "I wouldn't say that. Didn't we always talk about how we wished to have a more minimalist, rustic lifestyle, with no Extranet, Holophones, and all that Jazz? Well just consider this as wish fulfillment! We could pass for humans pretty easily based on appearance alone, anything different about us we can cover up with a gene-masking kit, and then we could integrate with them! Hell, I bet you could find your own Karen here! One that can't just warp away if you show up with flowers at her doorstep in order to avoid you." "One time! It happened one time!" "Still, the point stands, man!" "...I guess you're right. I mean, in such an ass-backwards planet, what could go wrong for either of us?" ​ *And then the earth split in twain.* ​ ​
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"We are almost there" T1 yelled backed to me through the blizzard. It is a very risky task we have at hand, waking the ancient beast known as 'Everest'. "We better get this done and get out before the feds notice what going on" I said to T3, who was lagging behind. "Why would we care if the FBI knows?" "How new are you? The Intergalactic federation, those feds are the ones that dont want the only threat to their power awoken." I explanined to T3. T1 gave me a nasty glare. Designation Thumper-3 was the newest member of our little squad among the rebellion. He didnt know much about what we are doing, he's a Human who signed up for this because we travel and he happended to have the qualifications. Our job, as a 'Thumper' is to shake the ground above a beast and wake it. We were only told that we would have to climb to the top of this beasts head. We were not told it's size. "This is it" T1 said as he put a hand back to stop us. We approached T1 slowly to overlook a hole about 5 feet wide with seemingly no bottom. "Yo One, what is this? How did this get here?" T3 asked. "Its a from a long-" "Ita a cannon ball hole" T1 interupted as he elbowed me. "The feds shot a really big cannon at everest in an attempt to kill it" I thought that was strange, thats clearly from the IF's long distance laser. "Oh wow, its impressive they have a cannon that big!" T3 exclaimed. "Well what are we here for?" I asked. "Everest has been asleep for thousands of years, all this dirt, rock, and snow has built up on top of it. We need to go down this to get close enough to wake it up." "Well how are we going to get down there? We wont all fit at the bottom" T3 asked. "Im going to go down first and dig out a small room" He tied a rope and started climbing down "So it sounded like you had a difderent explaination for this hole?" "Oh yeah well..." I started to think about T1 elbowing me. "Well there this rumor that the feds have this laser that can shoot basically across the galaxy" "Oh really? That would be crazy if they did" T3 said in a worried tone. He seemed more alarmed than suprised. A message flashed on my wrist display from T1. "Ready" "Alright he's done, you ready to get down there?" "Yeah.. but can u go first? I havent done this before, I'm not really sure how." "Oh well just use this, I don't want to leave a new guy up here alone." I hand him a harness with a winch on it, we brought one just in case someone got hurt. "oh, well, ok i guess this..." he trailed off, seemingly upset i didn't leave him up here. He starts his descent and I immediately get a call from T1. "I can hear the harness, this might be the only time i can talk without 3 being around. I think he's with the feds." "What? why? is that why you interuppted me earlier?" "Yes, the IF's laser is supposed to be a secret weapon that we don't know about" Oh shit. "Ummm, I kinda mentioned that there is a rumor about it to him" "What?! what did he say?" "Oh he just said wow and got real quiet." "Two, I think hes with them." "Are you-" "Wait are you talking into the hole right now" We both said in unison. We both said no. "Two cut the rope, He's a spy" "What?" "Hes talking to the Federation right now, telling them what we know." "Im just going to climb down." "No! theres jot enough time, do-" T1 says as his radio cuts out. "One what's going on?" Nothing. "One?" "GET DOW-" I jumped down the hole grabbing the rope, sliding down and burning my hands. I land hard at the bottom, only to see T1 on top of T3 with a knife to his throat. "What is going on??" "Spyboy here wont tell why he just tried to stab me in the back." "Send forces to everest, theres are s-" T1 punches him in the face and cuts him off. I might continue writing this depending on how much attention it gets.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh go--" "Fucking hell Fleeze, just shut the fuck up for a second and let me think of a way to deal with this!" "There's no '*dealing with this*', M'yarr! We fucked up!" "It's not that bad, we could--" "Not that bad? We crash-landed on *EARTH*! You know, C-64-Lambda? The *one* planet everyone tells you to not visit? Space Detroit?" ​ M'yarr could only rub his forehead in exasperation, doing his best to stymie the migraine that his travelling companion was starting to cause him. The two had decided to go on an intergalactic sex tour, meet the best women in all 16 known Galaxies, and enjoy the big fat check that their first joint business venture had net them. They were heading to Sapphiria, the reputed 'sexiest' planet on the universe, but a congestion on the Or-64 belt had them take a detour through the Milky way. Cue a stray comet hitting one of their thrusters, and they were on a collision course with Earth. ​ Usually people would think that this panic would be due to Humanity's brutality, how they would try to dissect them and steal their tech and all that bull. ​ That thought is absolutely risible. ​ Humans were some of the least-threatening species know to every single civilization capable of interstellar travel, due to their low level of technology, intelligence, an inherently flawed biology and their tendency to fight and stab each other in the back, so there were no problems there. Hell, if any alien got caught by humans they could just promise 'X government' to give them the shiny new toys and tech advancements, and everything would easily be swept under the rug, easy shit. ​ No. The true problem, and pretty much the only reason humans weren't ever colonized by other races (*Except for the Annunaki, but no one really mentions the gold-digging troglodytes*), was due to a single fact. ​ Their planet harbored Great Old Ones. ​ Not *a* Great Old One, nor *a few*, or *some*, but ***ALL*** of them. Earth was just a disaster waiting to happen. ​ A disaster that M'yarr and Fleeze had just landed smack-dab in the middle of. ​ "I'm freaking out, man! I'm FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! I GOT A GIRL BACK HOME WAITING FOR ME, MAN!" "I already told you about why that wouldn't work." "I LOVE KAREN, MAN! WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED, AND-" "She's literally a servant we met at Space Hooters that batted her eyes at you for a larger tip." "You're just jealous because you have no one in your life!" ​ "...I think we're getting a bit off-topic. Instead of discussing the non-existent relationship between you and a girl whose tag had a fake name on it, we should be discussing how to *leave this gods-forsaken hunk of rock*!" ​ Fleeze stopped mid-rant, his anger turning back into panic as he spoke. ​ "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god…" "Oh not this shit again… If you're not gonna do anything productive then just go have your panic attack inside the ship!" ​ Surprisingly, the panicking young man followed M'yarr's advice, entering the vessel and turning on the radio while praying for some sort of divine intervention to get him from the deathtrap known as Earth and back into the soft bosom of Karen. ​ Without his panicking companion taking away his concentration M'yarr was capable of focusing on what to actually do. His first reflex was to try to get the AAA to tow them with the usual excuse of 'weather balloon', but as soon as he mentioned the coordinates he was either laughed at, or cussed off. He tried all of the branches, even the ones in the most remote corners of the galaxy, yet what did he get for all his efforts? ​ Diddly squat, that's what! ​ '*Please, gods, mind sending a bit of help my way? Just a little bit? I really don't want to be here when* ***THEY*** *start awakening!*' ​ He waited for a few seconds after his prayer as if the clouds were going to part and reveal a golden-plated tow-ship, all ready to remove them from that sector to never return, and he could only grunt in irritation as he instead got some bird droppings on his head. ​ The bird was taken care of with his ray gun, and the droppings were taken care of with a single squirt of CleanGel^(TM), but other than providing mild stress relief, the acts were, ultimately, useless. ​ He walked up to the ship, knocking on the domed windshield to get Fleeze to pop it open, which the man did. ​ "So, what's the good news? How long until we're outta here?" "Well, the thing is… We aren't getting out of here." "What? *What do you mean we aren't getting out of here*!?" "Look, I called everyone I could to give us a help, but nothing panned out. All tow services were unavailable in this area, as were any carpooling services and stuff. I even tried calling our consulate in Jupiter, but they just gave me the usual '*Make peace with your mortality*' speech, and were ultimately useless. As always." "You're saying that we're absolutely fucked, with no way out?" "I wouldn't say that. Didn't we always talk about how we wished to have a more minimalist, rustic lifestyle, with no Extranet, Holophones, and all that Jazz? Well just consider this as wish fulfillment! We could pass for humans pretty easily based on appearance alone, anything different about us we can cover up with a gene-masking kit, and then we could integrate with them! Hell, I bet you could find your own Karen here! One that can't just warp away if you show up with flowers at her doorstep in order to avoid you." "One time! It happened one time!" "Still, the point stands, man!" "...I guess you're right. I mean, in such an ass-backwards planet, what could go wrong for either of us?" ​ *And then the earth split in twain.* ​ ​
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
“We are nearing the destination. Changing our approach to hide us behind their moon. They can detect us now if we are not careful.” The guide prodded the holographic console, altering the trajectory of their ship without any effect of inertia. “I don't see why we need a guide get us on the ground,” said Daude. The guide looked back at Daude and the others. “The latest security measures are adapting very rapidly lately.” “How so?” asked Vafir. “They--” The guide stopped short when he noticed the perplexed looks on the faces of his passengers. “You don't know who ’they’ are do you?” After letting the silence confirm his suspicion, he continued. “They call themselves humans. Organic creatures of simple intelligence brought in about fifty thousand years ago. Oh and before I forget, make sure you take your translator capsule before you get off. You don't want to be speaking like us down there. Humans are vocally monotone. Um, oh yes, they have advanced recently to reach into space and littered it profusely. Needless to say, they can now see us if we are careless.” “I don't remember hearing of any humans being set as guardians of the old ones,” said Daude with a scowl. “The old ones are a dying myth,” retorted Vafir. “Then why did you tag along?” “To prove you wrong of course.” Daude snorted in response and averted his gaze. “Sooo…” said Forvi, breaking the silence. “Why don't they mention humans on R113--er, Earth?” “Yes, remember to use their naming from now on. It's their planet and it will rouse less suspicion that way. As to your question, Earth is not interesting. At least it wasn't up until recently. With so little interest from the council, they didn't see the need to update the records. I mean it probably says that the current defensive measure is a massive ice mass. At least the reptilian beasts of the previous era were a better deterrent. “Luckily, Earth doesn't get many visitors. Just the occasional doubter. Sometimes those who are simply curious about the prison of the old ones. There are others who wish to ensure the security is tight. And those who wish to attempt to awaken the old ones are caught long before even they know they wanted to. By the way which are you?” “Well I'm definitely the curious one,” said Forvi. Vafir said nothing for as long as he could. The stares from Forvi eventually drove him from his silence, sighing heavily. “I'm the doubter.” They all turned to Daude who never looked away from the screen showing the ship coming to rest in a small clearing in a densely wooded forest. “Must I have to fit one of the remaining stereotypes? Why do I have to fit one at all?” “I bet your checking the security,” smiled Forvi. “Yes.” “This is it,” interrupted the guide. The screen flickered away from the outside camera and to that of Earth's map. Pointing to a region on the map, he continued. “We are here. Do either of you remember what place this is called?” “Uh, Kandahar?” asked Forvi. “Canada,” corrected the guide. “Specifically Manitoba Canada. It's important to remember. If you forget, just say you are tourists. The humans will accept that.” The three gathered their things and stood at the exit of the ship. They received many more instructions before they finally stopped out into the crisp Canadian air. The guide waited until the took the last step off the ramp of the ship. “This is where I part. I'll be back in seven Earth days. Don't be too disappointed when you meet the old one.” The door hissed closed before they question him further. The ship lifted into the air silently and popped away instantly. The three wasted no time in heading to their next destination. ----- I'll add part 2 later. Don't like writing on a phone. Super slow.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh go--" "Fucking hell Fleeze, just shut the fuck up for a second and let me think of a way to deal with this!" "There's no '*dealing with this*', M'yarr! We fucked up!" "It's not that bad, we could--" "Not that bad? We crash-landed on *EARTH*! You know, C-64-Lambda? The *one* planet everyone tells you to not visit? Space Detroit?" ​ M'yarr could only rub his forehead in exasperation, doing his best to stymie the migraine that his travelling companion was starting to cause him. The two had decided to go on an intergalactic sex tour, meet the best women in all 16 known Galaxies, and enjoy the big fat check that their first joint business venture had net them. They were heading to Sapphiria, the reputed 'sexiest' planet on the universe, but a congestion on the Or-64 belt had them take a detour through the Milky way. Cue a stray comet hitting one of their thrusters, and they were on a collision course with Earth. ​ Usually people would think that this panic would be due to Humanity's brutality, how they would try to dissect them and steal their tech and all that bull. ​ That thought is absolutely risible. ​ Humans were some of the least-threatening species know to every single civilization capable of interstellar travel, due to their low level of technology, intelligence, an inherently flawed biology and their tendency to fight and stab each other in the back, so there were no problems there. Hell, if any alien got caught by humans they could just promise 'X government' to give them the shiny new toys and tech advancements, and everything would easily be swept under the rug, easy shit. ​ No. The true problem, and pretty much the only reason humans weren't ever colonized by other races (*Except for the Annunaki, but no one really mentions the gold-digging troglodytes*), was due to a single fact. ​ Their planet harbored Great Old Ones. ​ Not *a* Great Old One, nor *a few*, or *some*, but ***ALL*** of them. Earth was just a disaster waiting to happen. ​ A disaster that M'yarr and Fleeze had just landed smack-dab in the middle of. ​ "I'm freaking out, man! I'm FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! I GOT A GIRL BACK HOME WAITING FOR ME, MAN!" "I already told you about why that wouldn't work." "I LOVE KAREN, MAN! WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED, AND-" "She's literally a servant we met at Space Hooters that batted her eyes at you for a larger tip." "You're just jealous because you have no one in your life!" ​ "...I think we're getting a bit off-topic. Instead of discussing the non-existent relationship between you and a girl whose tag had a fake name on it, we should be discussing how to *leave this gods-forsaken hunk of rock*!" ​ Fleeze stopped mid-rant, his anger turning back into panic as he spoke. ​ "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god…" "Oh not this shit again… If you're not gonna do anything productive then just go have your panic attack inside the ship!" ​ Surprisingly, the panicking young man followed M'yarr's advice, entering the vessel and turning on the radio while praying for some sort of divine intervention to get him from the deathtrap known as Earth and back into the soft bosom of Karen. ​ Without his panicking companion taking away his concentration M'yarr was capable of focusing on what to actually do. His first reflex was to try to get the AAA to tow them with the usual excuse of 'weather balloon', but as soon as he mentioned the coordinates he was either laughed at, or cussed off. He tried all of the branches, even the ones in the most remote corners of the galaxy, yet what did he get for all his efforts? ​ Diddly squat, that's what! ​ '*Please, gods, mind sending a bit of help my way? Just a little bit? I really don't want to be here when* ***THEY*** *start awakening!*' ​ He waited for a few seconds after his prayer as if the clouds were going to part and reveal a golden-plated tow-ship, all ready to remove them from that sector to never return, and he could only grunt in irritation as he instead got some bird droppings on his head. ​ The bird was taken care of with his ray gun, and the droppings were taken care of with a single squirt of CleanGel^(TM), but other than providing mild stress relief, the acts were, ultimately, useless. ​ He walked up to the ship, knocking on the domed windshield to get Fleeze to pop it open, which the man did. ​ "So, what's the good news? How long until we're outta here?" "Well, the thing is… We aren't getting out of here." "What? *What do you mean we aren't getting out of here*!?" "Look, I called everyone I could to give us a help, but nothing panned out. All tow services were unavailable in this area, as were any carpooling services and stuff. I even tried calling our consulate in Jupiter, but they just gave me the usual '*Make peace with your mortality*' speech, and were ultimately useless. As always." "You're saying that we're absolutely fucked, with no way out?" "I wouldn't say that. Didn't we always talk about how we wished to have a more minimalist, rustic lifestyle, with no Extranet, Holophones, and all that Jazz? Well just consider this as wish fulfillment! We could pass for humans pretty easily based on appearance alone, anything different about us we can cover up with a gene-masking kit, and then we could integrate with them! Hell, I bet you could find your own Karen here! One that can't just warp away if you show up with flowers at her doorstep in order to avoid you." "One time! It happened one time!" "Still, the point stands, man!" "...I guess you're right. I mean, in such an ass-backwards planet, what could go wrong for either of us?" ​ *And then the earth split in twain.* ​ ​
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Rose growled under her breath. Someone had removed her mark. Again. She peed on the tree, re-marking it for the fifth time this week. She expected some disrespect. This was her first week on the job, but this was her dream job; Captian of the Galaxy Defenders. They saved the galaxy from The Great Old Ones. They were heroes! ​ Were heroes, was the problem. The original defenders saved the galaxy over a millennium ago. With the threat gone, and creeping budget cuts. The once great Galaxy Defenders were now a dozen people in a rented office. ​ A large blue ring on Rose's right paw started to pulse with light. She looked at it for a long moment. The colors pulsing between the dark blue and bright yellow. Her tail wagged with excitement. It was an emergency, a real emergency! This was her chance. She would prove herself and earn the respect her position deserved. She licked the ring. Magic energy poured out of it and engulfed her body. The energy twisted and bent the fabric of reality until she was no longer in the park, but standing in her office. The rush was exciting. Her tail wagged harder, knocking over the knickknacks on the shelf behind her. She turned around, causing her tail to fling papers around the room. ​ Jax materialized in the middle of the paper tornado. Rose spun to face him, causing her tail to fling more things into the air. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment while the chaos calmed. His hard exoskeleton reflected the harsh office light like a dark rainbow. A delicious looking rainbow, Rose thought. ​ "Mam," Jax said. His voice monotone. His species had hard inflexible vocal cords. Inflexion and tone were impossible. ​ "How many humans are left? What is the damping level?" Rose asked trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. ​ "The news is good mam," Jax said slowly. "Magic damping on earth has reached 90%" ​ Rose stared at him, waiting for an explanation. She liked Jax, but he often needed very explicit instructions. Rose was determined to break him of that habit. ​ After another moment, Jax seemed to understand. "According to projections, 90% damping shouldn't have happened in our lifetime. Now, at this new rate, we expect 100% damping in hundred years" ​ Rose sat down. "100%? is that even possible?" ​ "Yes, we believe so. As you know, human technology disrupts the flow of magic instead of utilizing it. Somehow they make everything work with heat and motion. The more they advance, the greater the dampening effect." ​ "What happens to The Great Old Ones when they reach 100%?" Rose asked. ​ "We can't know for sure. The records say The Great Old Ones are made from pure magic, making them immortal as long as magic exists." Jax said. ​ "So if the humans cut off the flow of magic, The Great Old Ones will die." Rose said. Her tail wagged excitedly again. The humans could end this once and for all. That's when Rose decided that she liked humans. They were very good monkeys, yes they were.
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh go--" "Fucking hell Fleeze, just shut the fuck up for a second and let me think of a way to deal with this!" "There's no '*dealing with this*', M'yarr! We fucked up!" "It's not that bad, we could--" "Not that bad? We crash-landed on *EARTH*! You know, C-64-Lambda? The *one* planet everyone tells you to not visit? Space Detroit?" ​ M'yarr could only rub his forehead in exasperation, doing his best to stymie the migraine that his travelling companion was starting to cause him. The two had decided to go on an intergalactic sex tour, meet the best women in all 16 known Galaxies, and enjoy the big fat check that their first joint business venture had net them. They were heading to Sapphiria, the reputed 'sexiest' planet on the universe, but a congestion on the Or-64 belt had them take a detour through the Milky way. Cue a stray comet hitting one of their thrusters, and they were on a collision course with Earth. ​ Usually people would think that this panic would be due to Humanity's brutality, how they would try to dissect them and steal their tech and all that bull. ​ That thought is absolutely risible. ​ Humans were some of the least-threatening species know to every single civilization capable of interstellar travel, due to their low level of technology, intelligence, an inherently flawed biology and their tendency to fight and stab each other in the back, so there were no problems there. Hell, if any alien got caught by humans they could just promise 'X government' to give them the shiny new toys and tech advancements, and everything would easily be swept under the rug, easy shit. ​ No. The true problem, and pretty much the only reason humans weren't ever colonized by other races (*Except for the Annunaki, but no one really mentions the gold-digging troglodytes*), was due to a single fact. ​ Their planet harbored Great Old Ones. ​ Not *a* Great Old One, nor *a few*, or *some*, but ***ALL*** of them. Earth was just a disaster waiting to happen. ​ A disaster that M'yarr and Fleeze had just landed smack-dab in the middle of. ​ "I'm freaking out, man! I'm FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! I GOT A GIRL BACK HOME WAITING FOR ME, MAN!" "I already told you about why that wouldn't work." "I LOVE KAREN, MAN! WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED, AND-" "She's literally a servant we met at Space Hooters that batted her eyes at you for a larger tip." "You're just jealous because you have no one in your life!" ​ "...I think we're getting a bit off-topic. Instead of discussing the non-existent relationship between you and a girl whose tag had a fake name on it, we should be discussing how to *leave this gods-forsaken hunk of rock*!" ​ Fleeze stopped mid-rant, his anger turning back into panic as he spoke. ​ "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god…" "Oh not this shit again… If you're not gonna do anything productive then just go have your panic attack inside the ship!" ​ Surprisingly, the panicking young man followed M'yarr's advice, entering the vessel and turning on the radio while praying for some sort of divine intervention to get him from the deathtrap known as Earth and back into the soft bosom of Karen. ​ Without his panicking companion taking away his concentration M'yarr was capable of focusing on what to actually do. His first reflex was to try to get the AAA to tow them with the usual excuse of 'weather balloon', but as soon as he mentioned the coordinates he was either laughed at, or cussed off. He tried all of the branches, even the ones in the most remote corners of the galaxy, yet what did he get for all his efforts? ​ Diddly squat, that's what! ​ '*Please, gods, mind sending a bit of help my way? Just a little bit? I really don't want to be here when* ***THEY*** *start awakening!*' ​ He waited for a few seconds after his prayer as if the clouds were going to part and reveal a golden-plated tow-ship, all ready to remove them from that sector to never return, and he could only grunt in irritation as he instead got some bird droppings on his head. ​ The bird was taken care of with his ray gun, and the droppings were taken care of with a single squirt of CleanGel^(TM), but other than providing mild stress relief, the acts were, ultimately, useless. ​ He walked up to the ship, knocking on the domed windshield to get Fleeze to pop it open, which the man did. ​ "So, what's the good news? How long until we're outta here?" "Well, the thing is… We aren't getting out of here." "What? *What do you mean we aren't getting out of here*!?" "Look, I called everyone I could to give us a help, but nothing panned out. All tow services were unavailable in this area, as were any carpooling services and stuff. I even tried calling our consulate in Jupiter, but they just gave me the usual '*Make peace with your mortality*' speech, and were ultimately useless. As always." "You're saying that we're absolutely fucked, with no way out?" "I wouldn't say that. Didn't we always talk about how we wished to have a more minimalist, rustic lifestyle, with no Extranet, Holophones, and all that Jazz? Well just consider this as wish fulfillment! We could pass for humans pretty easily based on appearance alone, anything different about us we can cover up with a gene-masking kit, and then we could integrate with them! Hell, I bet you could find your own Karen here! One that can't just warp away if you show up with flowers at her doorstep in order to avoid you." "One time! It happened one time!" "Still, the point stands, man!" "...I guess you're right. I mean, in such an ass-backwards planet, what could go wrong for either of us?" ​ *And then the earth split in twain.* ​ ​
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
(This is my first time guys, be kind, but firm with your feedback.) "But how?" The words echoed out of the malformed mouth mankind would call a beak, the english was course and high pitched, dripping with sharp whistles, and nasally notes. The small delegation of astronauts sat across the table from it. Large lumbering creatures, tiny heads, huge bodies, centaur like lower half, arms that hung so low they nearly dragged on the ground flaking the only door into the room. Odd metal plates forming armor adorned those bodies, not a scrap of skin showing, at least not as far as the small band could tell, heavy tools, assumably weapons filling their hands. The clunky space suit of the lead astronaut looking centuries, maybe longer out of date then those of the strange creatures across from him. His fingers idly played with the sun visor on his helmet that sat upon the table, his hair feathered, blonde, the name 'Tucker' plastered on his chest. "How what?" He asked after the long pause. The beaked creature took a long moment, as if thinking before screeching out english once more, "How did you survive?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question, "We were aware of your ancestors appearing, gaining sapients, but we never thought anything sapient could survive an eldritch prison planet." "Like Lovecraft?" One of the other astronauts asked from behind Tucker, only to be silent with him tossing his arm up. "A prison planet? What do you mean?" Tucker always felt a great deal of freedom in his life, even now, sitting there in the depths of space, even if it was aboard some UFO, he felt he had more freedom then nearly any man every born on earth. "I ask questions here." The alien echoed out, taking a long moment, "The eldritch energies must have warped your development somehow, if you cannot explain. We will wait for the scans." The alien turned to leave, only for him to stop, Tucker's fist hitting the desk they had sat at, the smooth black metal gave off a hum as if singing from the blow, "Now you just wait a second you bird faced bastard!" The lead astronaut spat those words out, "You took our ship, drugged us, tossed us in some black void looking room, you owe us some answers, or I'll show you some fucking Eldritch Energy." One of the large creatures chimed something in, the language was gruntal, and not a word of it made sense, but Tucker pointed, "And the finest crew mankind has ever put together isn't going to talk to some over-payed rent-a-cops, so shut the fuck up." The lead alien shook his head and continued to leave, only to stop once more as Tucker's helmet in the floor in front of his slithering mass that could be called feet, "I told you once you son of a bitch, now let me tell you again, you sit down in that chair right there, and tell me what I want to know." "Extreme hostility, could this be manifestation of Eldritch Energies?" The being slowly turned to face the trio of space travelers once more. "One question, then research continues." "One question each for wasting my time." Tucker retorted, his crew could see he was trembling, anxiety and fear in him. The creature gave a long low whistle. "Be quick then." It added like they were bitter words, words it was going to know well. "What is Eldritch Energy?" Tucker asked the most obvious question sitting there, up for grabs, but in need of some explanation as he sunk back into one of the chairs, resting across from the creature at the strange table. "Put in terms you will understand, it is the energy given off by the dorment Old Ones, the Abominations, whatever you call them, the energy must be radiated outwards less it collects in them, and allows them to wake up, it creates a zone of space dominated by this energy, at the center of this zone, The Veil of Madness-" The creature offer the name, "Sits the star you know as Sol, the prison of the largest of the Great Old Ones, others spread out among the whole system." "So like Cth-" The girl was cut off once more from a glare by Tucker, his eyes were narrow, "Right, don't waste it. What are these, uhh, Great Old Ones?" She asked with a smirk, greeted by a charismatic thumbs up from Tucker. The creature paused a long moment, "Beings older than time, more dense than all matter, with more than the Initial Singularity of our very universe. They are-" He paused, looking down a long moment. The last astronaut, the only of them still wearing his helmet, in a crackling static filled voice spoke, "They are where nightmares come from." "Nightmares?" The creature asked suddenly, the strange matter that resembled something not unlike a brain that constructed most of its head seemed to tense, and furrow, wiggle and pulse with thought. Tucker leaned back a bit in the chair, "Yeah, like the boogeyman, monsters under the bed, seeing strange lights out your window, shadows looking like people, nightmares, night terrors, things that go bump in the night." "This is it, the anomaly in your evolution. How the Eldritch Energy warped you, these nightmares." The creature seemed sure of itself, a coo in its high pitched voice. Tucker snorted, "You gotta be kidding me, you think childhood fears are these big bad Old dudes? That is the du-" He was cut off by the hand of one of his companions. He paused. "Tuck-" She spoke, arms moving back up, crossing, "So, you don't dream? Like when you rest, sleep, nothing? Or is it always pleasant?" The creature looked down, "Pleasant, restful, peaceful and content. These night terrors show how the Eldritch Energies affect your subconscious." "Are there any other species that have lived in the Veil of Madness?" the lady asked once more, letting Tucker take a back seat to her press. "Besides Humanity of Earth? There were also the Martians as your people dubbed them of mars and, the Venusians-" The birds voice was cut off by her once more, "What happened to them?" "Madness overtook them, and they destroyed themselves, exact details, unknown. All recovered species have been too far gone for interrogation." The creature explained. The girl's mouth opened once more, she was seconds from speaking, before that static came again, "So, the energy warps our subconscious when we sleep, so we developed to be sponges of madness, how fun."
"Oh god, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck, oh go--" "Fucking hell Fleeze, just shut the fuck up for a second and let me think of a way to deal with this!" "There's no '*dealing with this*', M'yarr! We fucked up!" "It's not that bad, we could--" "Not that bad? We crash-landed on *EARTH*! You know, C-64-Lambda? The *one* planet everyone tells you to not visit? Space Detroit?" ​ M'yarr could only rub his forehead in exasperation, doing his best to stymie the migraine that his travelling companion was starting to cause him. The two had decided to go on an intergalactic sex tour, meet the best women in all 16 known Galaxies, and enjoy the big fat check that their first joint business venture had net them. They were heading to Sapphiria, the reputed 'sexiest' planet on the universe, but a congestion on the Or-64 belt had them take a detour through the Milky way. Cue a stray comet hitting one of their thrusters, and they were on a collision course with Earth. ​ Usually people would think that this panic would be due to Humanity's brutality, how they would try to dissect them and steal their tech and all that bull. ​ That thought is absolutely risible. ​ Humans were some of the least-threatening species know to every single civilization capable of interstellar travel, due to their low level of technology, intelligence, an inherently flawed biology and their tendency to fight and stab each other in the back, so there were no problems there. Hell, if any alien got caught by humans they could just promise 'X government' to give them the shiny new toys and tech advancements, and everything would easily be swept under the rug, easy shit. ​ No. The true problem, and pretty much the only reason humans weren't ever colonized by other races (*Except for the Annunaki, but no one really mentions the gold-digging troglodytes*), was due to a single fact. ​ Their planet harbored Great Old Ones. ​ Not *a* Great Old One, nor *a few*, or *some*, but ***ALL*** of them. Earth was just a disaster waiting to happen. ​ A disaster that M'yarr and Fleeze had just landed smack-dab in the middle of. ​ "I'm freaking out, man! I'm FREAKING THE FUCK OUT! I GOT A GIRL BACK HOME WAITING FOR ME, MAN!" "I already told you about why that wouldn't work." "I LOVE KAREN, MAN! WE WERE GONNA GET MARRIED, AND-" "She's literally a servant we met at Space Hooters that batted her eyes at you for a larger tip." "You're just jealous because you have no one in your life!" ​ "...I think we're getting a bit off-topic. Instead of discussing the non-existent relationship between you and a girl whose tag had a fake name on it, we should be discussing how to *leave this gods-forsaken hunk of rock*!" ​ Fleeze stopped mid-rant, his anger turning back into panic as he spoke. ​ "Oh shit, oh fuck, oh god…" "Oh not this shit again… If you're not gonna do anything productive then just go have your panic attack inside the ship!" ​ Surprisingly, the panicking young man followed M'yarr's advice, entering the vessel and turning on the radio while praying for some sort of divine intervention to get him from the deathtrap known as Earth and back into the soft bosom of Karen. ​ Without his panicking companion taking away his concentration M'yarr was capable of focusing on what to actually do. His first reflex was to try to get the AAA to tow them with the usual excuse of 'weather balloon', but as soon as he mentioned the coordinates he was either laughed at, or cussed off. He tried all of the branches, even the ones in the most remote corners of the galaxy, yet what did he get for all his efforts? ​ Diddly squat, that's what! ​ '*Please, gods, mind sending a bit of help my way? Just a little bit? I really don't want to be here when* ***THEY*** *start awakening!*' ​ He waited for a few seconds after his prayer as if the clouds were going to part and reveal a golden-plated tow-ship, all ready to remove them from that sector to never return, and he could only grunt in irritation as he instead got some bird droppings on his head. ​ The bird was taken care of with his ray gun, and the droppings were taken care of with a single squirt of CleanGel^(TM), but other than providing mild stress relief, the acts were, ultimately, useless. ​ He walked up to the ship, knocking on the domed windshield to get Fleeze to pop it open, which the man did. ​ "So, what's the good news? How long until we're outta here?" "Well, the thing is… We aren't getting out of here." "What? *What do you mean we aren't getting out of here*!?" "Look, I called everyone I could to give us a help, but nothing panned out. All tow services were unavailable in this area, as were any carpooling services and stuff. I even tried calling our consulate in Jupiter, but they just gave me the usual '*Make peace with your mortality*' speech, and were ultimately useless. As always." "You're saying that we're absolutely fucked, with no way out?" "I wouldn't say that. Didn't we always talk about how we wished to have a more minimalist, rustic lifestyle, with no Extranet, Holophones, and all that Jazz? Well just consider this as wish fulfillment! We could pass for humans pretty easily based on appearance alone, anything different about us we can cover up with a gene-masking kit, and then we could integrate with them! Hell, I bet you could find your own Karen here! One that can't just warp away if you show up with flowers at her doorstep in order to avoid you." "One time! It happened one time!" "Still, the point stands, man!" "...I guess you're right. I mean, in such an ass-backwards planet, what could go wrong for either of us?" ​ *And then the earth split in twain.* ​ ​
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Banks of monitors and screens fill up the spacious room that five figures have gathered in. Seated around the oval desk placed off center in the room start are stacks of printouts and holos in front of them. While the room is warm to their standards a chill seems to have filled the recycled air in the room. ​ "Gentlemen." Begins Vice-Admiral Niric. " The data in front of us shows the collected results of the last five thousand years. You can each bring the data back to your departments to review but we must make a decision soon." Niric gazes at each of the four departments heads at the table with him. "The containment will fail and I've noted the second chapter about our own failures to respond to ever growing energy requirements to keep the neural blanket operating. " Niric had added the last confession for the simple reason that he didn't need his rivals using it as a weapon against him in the next few moments. ​ "Simply put our mandate is to figure out what we can do differently or if we need to ask for a Assembly vote for a more drastic solution. In the last two hundred years it seems that the seeded life forms have started to show a resistance to the field and has led to some Titan influences. You can look under Lovecraft and Mignola in the footnotes to see how their influence had seeped out but it's happening more and more often." Niric gestures to the figure seated beside him and continues. "Citizen Scientist N'gal has also provided a timeline to the energy requirements needed to keep the colonists in system." ​ With the a small waive from Niric it prompts N'gal to stand up and address the other three. "We have used the stations in the past to supress the , for a lack of better term, broadcasts from the Titans. We have started with fourteen fusion plants per array and have had to up the energy to forty five plants with a additional twelve on standby during the few times the locals have used nuclear testing. There was also a complete containment failure during a apparent local power system failure twenty cycles ago. We where able to suppress functions within 2 rotations but the damage was done." N'gal pauses to take a sip of water from the glass in front of him. "The current heat cycle of the planet will have the southern pole exposed in three local cycles and that will leave the Titan vault exposed. We estimate Titan discovery within another 4 cycles even with the environmental data we have leaked into the local nets. No intelligent creatures would ever heat a planet so without being compromised by a Titan." Four of the heads at the table nodded in unison at the statement. It seemed unthinkable to the Aassembly that a world would destroy itself in a runaway fashion with obvious data showing the foreseeable outcome. ​ ​ "A question for both of you then." The statement comes the middle person of the sitting trio, System Admiral Solariun. "It seems to me like you are suggesting the need for a wipe no matter what we do. The containment has failed at critical times , the tech jumps that happened far too quickly , a local resistance to most of the biological weapons ever designed by the Assembly before the ban, and even the basics of interstellar travel have started to take hold. " The stern words have dropped the temperature even further in the room. "You can't expect myself as the forces liaison here to think there is a solution that doesn't involve a reset, again!" A wrathful gaze turns toward Niric. "Your department has failed . Titan containment isn't possible long term and it's eventual local corruption requires a more permanent solution. Irradiate the planet and declare it off limits." With the outburst finished Solariun seats himself. ​ The outburst catches Niric by surprise and the vitriol causes the two others to subconsciously turn away from Solariun. "Clearly," Starts Niric. "You didn't read the briefing. The reason we seeded that graveyard and last stand of the Titans is that the Titan influence was almost three sectors in range after they where subdued and a release was almost caused by your departments predecessor five and half thousand cycles ago. Keeping a tech repressed life form on the planet has also allowed us to amplify the neural damper we broadcast." Niric starts to key up the console in front of him with the last words. Quickly finding what he was looking for he looks back towards Solariun with a challenging glare. "See the highlighted section in front of you. Power requirements would be seventeen fold higher without the life form amplification and we would still have to have a three system block off. That doesn't include the AI requirements for keeping the entire system running and in good repair." Niric pauses himself to let Soariun pour over the data he has sent to the console. ​ Sarliun looks away from the withering gaze of Niric and down toward his screen. Clearly wanting the focus to be off of himself Solariun asks the person to his left. "Vior , what does the economic analysis say?" Hoping to deflect the conversation while he gathers more information. ​ The enthusiastic voice of Vior quickly adds his opinion as if had been waiting to add his opinion. "Currently the project has quadrupled it's budget size in the last two hundred cycles and the increase projected will require a Assembly vote no matter what we do. The Titan mandate may be amongst the oldest still in effect but most worlds don't even mention it in passing. The assembly just came to be for no reason in their minds. I hate to agree with Solariun but a military option might work best but this would require additional planning a budgetary allotment." ​ With that last statement hanging in the air the attention now focuses on the last member of the committee. She hadn't glanced at any of the materials in front of herself nor had she even looked at the other four while they spoke. Dismissive in tone ,she starts . "I've been informed we have one plan that has been approved and in the works. Apparently intelligence concluded that the current problem was going to happen close to one hundred and fifty cycles ago. Current in the works is a planetwide nuclear event which will result in a fallout , level seven. We'll end the nuclear winter earlier than naturally possible to maintain a high enough life cycle count and a estimated five to seven hundred cycle technical regression. Animal and vegetation will be modified and seeded to ensure a viable ecology and cleanup will occur without any possible chance of planetside monitoring. It's already been approved by the Black Site Assembly committee but they wanted a set of eyes on this meeting to see if anything new would would come to the table. Seeing as none of you could contribute anything that wasn't in the already available materials I would like to thank you for wasting my time." ​ Silence holds the room as each member looks at the agent who meets each of their gazes without backing down. Niric is the first to recover after averting his gaze. "You're saying this whole study and committee was a sham. No matter what we found are tried you knew the end result would be the same." ​ "Yes." The agent nods with her response. ​ "It's a plan with a few billion lives on your departments conscious." Adds Salriun. ​ "Your department is war Salriun, don't lecture me about a body count. Death from a cruiser or from a atmospheric bomb is going be the same for either of us. The only thing you four need to concern yourself with for the time being is making what I've said happen. The orders will be made available to you in the next few days. " With a dismissive waive of her hand the unnamed agent stands up from her hair and leaves the room.
didn't finish but might as well post I guess He picked his way across the lifeless desert, one dune at a time. The howling winds rushed past, indifferent to the lone wanderer. From a distance, the gaunt man wrapped in a billowing black cloak would have looked like some omen of death, making his way through the dry ocean alone. Not that there was anyone to witness this man's approach. Not that there was a living soul within five thousand light years who could do so. No, this man's journey had been a solitary one, and so it would remain until he reached his destination. That is, if he ever reached it. If there was anything to reach at all. The First Planet had lain unadulterated for many millennia. The elements had long since taken over the pale blue dot. If there was any evidence of the once dominant force of humanity, it had been erased or at least covered over by soil, water, sand, vegetation and whatever else Mother Earth had to offer. The tallest buildings, once the pride of the inhabitants, now lay buried beneath centuries of neglect and the natural course of things. The man had been walking at a steady pace, broken only by the occasional misstep or an unusually strong gust of wind that threatened to topple him right there and then. And yet he relented. He had travelled farther than any living soul before him. He would not stop now. The map in his HUD showed him all he needed to know. A large red arrow, growing ever larger, bobbed up and down just above the horizon. He had been following it now for the better part of 3 Earth Years. His journey had taken him through the Known, the Fringes, the Outlands and finally here. To the planet his ancestors once called home. The planet that his ancestors and 8 billion others had fled once in search of a new home among the stars. The thought had occurred to him that he would be the first of his kind to set foot on the First Planet in so very long. He was somewhat uneasy even though his ship's computers had scanned the atmosphere, concluding that he would have no problem surviving in this alien planet. That made him chuckle. The very place where his species had originated was now an alien planet. Throughout his journey, he often considered the weight of his plan. The absurdity of it. The insanity. He was doing something that generations of people had sought to escape. Perhaps this was the turning point for the human race. Perhaps he was the inciting factor of natural evolution. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be in the grand scheme of things. But his reverie was suddenly broken as he realized that he had reached his destination. In front of him and towering over him, was the red arrow, now larger than it had ever been before, pointing straight down. He pressed a finger against his temple and the HUD disappeared from his sight. He was standing right above it. Miles and miles below the sand. Miles and miles below. He looked all around himself. Nothing but sand met his gaze, stinging his eyes, irritating his nostrils. Miles and miles. Miles and miles of nothing but sand. He collapsed onto the ground and lay there, letting the grains accumulate on his body, burying him deeper and deeper. He shot up out of the ground and touched his temple again. The HUD once again took over his sight. After navigating a few menus, he came to what he was looking for. This will either work or I'll be left stranded on Earth, he thought. Was it the best plan of action? Probably not. But he couldn't stop it now. The ship dropped into the atmosphere, picking up speed. At the same time, it drifted a little to this side and a little to that, always correcting its course to follow the signal coming from below. Faster. Faster. He had left it in the atmosphere in an attempt to save fuel and used a smaller pod to come to the surface . Now he looked out from behind the boulder he was crouching behind as his ship descended from the sky pointed directly at the small transmitter he had placed just where he had been standing a few minutes ago. The ship tore through the ground, its huge mass and speed helping it along. And in one fell swoop, he had tunneled all the way down. Now came the hard part. Waking up the demons. TO BE CONTINUED (or maybe not idk)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"We are almost there" T1 yelled backed to me through the blizzard. It is a very risky task we have at hand, waking the ancient beast known as 'Everest'. "We better get this done and get out before the feds notice what going on" I said to T3, who was lagging behind. "Why would we care if the FBI knows?" "How new are you? The Intergalactic federation, those feds are the ones that dont want the only threat to their power awoken." I explanined to T3. T1 gave me a nasty glare. Designation Thumper-3 was the newest member of our little squad among the rebellion. He didnt know much about what we are doing, he's a Human who signed up for this because we travel and he happended to have the qualifications. Our job, as a 'Thumper' is to shake the ground above a beast and wake it. We were only told that we would have to climb to the top of this beasts head. We were not told it's size. "This is it" T1 said as he put a hand back to stop us. We approached T1 slowly to overlook a hole about 5 feet wide with seemingly no bottom. "Yo One, what is this? How did this get here?" T3 asked. "Its a from a long-" "Ita a cannon ball hole" T1 interupted as he elbowed me. "The feds shot a really big cannon at everest in an attempt to kill it" I thought that was strange, thats clearly from the IF's long distance laser. "Oh wow, its impressive they have a cannon that big!" T3 exclaimed. "Well what are we here for?" I asked. "Everest has been asleep for thousands of years, all this dirt, rock, and snow has built up on top of it. We need to go down this to get close enough to wake it up." "Well how are we going to get down there? We wont all fit at the bottom" T3 asked. "Im going to go down first and dig out a small room" He tied a rope and started climbing down "So it sounded like you had a difderent explaination for this hole?" "Oh yeah well..." I started to think about T1 elbowing me. "Well there this rumor that the feds have this laser that can shoot basically across the galaxy" "Oh really? That would be crazy if they did" T3 said in a worried tone. He seemed more alarmed than suprised. A message flashed on my wrist display from T1. "Ready" "Alright he's done, you ready to get down there?" "Yeah.. but can u go first? I havent done this before, I'm not really sure how." "Oh well just use this, I don't want to leave a new guy up here alone." I hand him a harness with a winch on it, we brought one just in case someone got hurt. "oh, well, ok i guess this..." he trailed off, seemingly upset i didn't leave him up here. He starts his descent and I immediately get a call from T1. "I can hear the harness, this might be the only time i can talk without 3 being around. I think he's with the feds." "What? why? is that why you interuppted me earlier?" "Yes, the IF's laser is supposed to be a secret weapon that we don't know about" Oh shit. "Ummm, I kinda mentioned that there is a rumor about it to him" "What?! what did he say?" "Oh he just said wow and got real quiet." "Two, I think hes with them." "Are you-" "Wait are you talking into the hole right now" We both said in unison. We both said no. "Two cut the rope, He's a spy" "What?" "Hes talking to the Federation right now, telling them what we know." "Im just going to climb down." "No! theres jot enough time, do-" T1 says as his radio cuts out. "One what's going on?" Nothing. "One?" "GET DOW-" I jumped down the hole grabbing the rope, sliding down and burning my hands. I land hard at the bottom, only to see T1 on top of T3 with a knife to his throat. "What is going on??" "Spyboy here wont tell why he just tried to stab me in the back." "Send forces to everest, theres are s-" T1 punches him in the face and cuts him off. I might continue writing this depending on how much attention it gets.
didn't finish but might as well post I guess He picked his way across the lifeless desert, one dune at a time. The howling winds rushed past, indifferent to the lone wanderer. From a distance, the gaunt man wrapped in a billowing black cloak would have looked like some omen of death, making his way through the dry ocean alone. Not that there was anyone to witness this man's approach. Not that there was a living soul within five thousand light years who could do so. No, this man's journey had been a solitary one, and so it would remain until he reached his destination. That is, if he ever reached it. If there was anything to reach at all. The First Planet had lain unadulterated for many millennia. The elements had long since taken over the pale blue dot. If there was any evidence of the once dominant force of humanity, it had been erased or at least covered over by soil, water, sand, vegetation and whatever else Mother Earth had to offer. The tallest buildings, once the pride of the inhabitants, now lay buried beneath centuries of neglect and the natural course of things. The man had been walking at a steady pace, broken only by the occasional misstep or an unusually strong gust of wind that threatened to topple him right there and then. And yet he relented. He had travelled farther than any living soul before him. He would not stop now. The map in his HUD showed him all he needed to know. A large red arrow, growing ever larger, bobbed up and down just above the horizon. He had been following it now for the better part of 3 Earth Years. His journey had taken him through the Known, the Fringes, the Outlands and finally here. To the planet his ancestors once called home. The planet that his ancestors and 8 billion others had fled once in search of a new home among the stars. The thought had occurred to him that he would be the first of his kind to set foot on the First Planet in so very long. He was somewhat uneasy even though his ship's computers had scanned the atmosphere, concluding that he would have no problem surviving in this alien planet. That made him chuckle. The very place where his species had originated was now an alien planet. Throughout his journey, he often considered the weight of his plan. The absurdity of it. The insanity. He was doing something that generations of people had sought to escape. Perhaps this was the turning point for the human race. Perhaps he was the inciting factor of natural evolution. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be in the grand scheme of things. But his reverie was suddenly broken as he realized that he had reached his destination. In front of him and towering over him, was the red arrow, now larger than it had ever been before, pointing straight down. He pressed a finger against his temple and the HUD disappeared from his sight. He was standing right above it. Miles and miles below the sand. Miles and miles below. He looked all around himself. Nothing but sand met his gaze, stinging his eyes, irritating his nostrils. Miles and miles. Miles and miles of nothing but sand. He collapsed onto the ground and lay there, letting the grains accumulate on his body, burying him deeper and deeper. He shot up out of the ground and touched his temple again. The HUD once again took over his sight. After navigating a few menus, he came to what he was looking for. This will either work or I'll be left stranded on Earth, he thought. Was it the best plan of action? Probably not. But he couldn't stop it now. The ship dropped into the atmosphere, picking up speed. At the same time, it drifted a little to this side and a little to that, always correcting its course to follow the signal coming from below. Faster. Faster. He had left it in the atmosphere in an attempt to save fuel and used a smaller pod to come to the surface . Now he looked out from behind the boulder he was crouching behind as his ship descended from the sky pointed directly at the small transmitter he had placed just where he had been standing a few minutes ago. The ship tore through the ground, its huge mass and speed helping it along. And in one fell swoop, he had tunneled all the way down. Now came the hard part. Waking up the demons. TO BE CONTINUED (or maybe not idk)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
“We are nearing the destination. Changing our approach to hide us behind their moon. They can detect us now if we are not careful.” The guide prodded the holographic console, altering the trajectory of their ship without any effect of inertia. “I don't see why we need a guide get us on the ground,” said Daude. The guide looked back at Daude and the others. “The latest security measures are adapting very rapidly lately.” “How so?” asked Vafir. “They--” The guide stopped short when he noticed the perplexed looks on the faces of his passengers. “You don't know who ’they’ are do you?” After letting the silence confirm his suspicion, he continued. “They call themselves humans. Organic creatures of simple intelligence brought in about fifty thousand years ago. Oh and before I forget, make sure you take your translator capsule before you get off. You don't want to be speaking like us down there. Humans are vocally monotone. Um, oh yes, they have advanced recently to reach into space and littered it profusely. Needless to say, they can now see us if we are careless.” “I don't remember hearing of any humans being set as guardians of the old ones,” said Daude with a scowl. “The old ones are a dying myth,” retorted Vafir. “Then why did you tag along?” “To prove you wrong of course.” Daude snorted in response and averted his gaze. “Sooo…” said Forvi, breaking the silence. “Why don't they mention humans on R113--er, Earth?” “Yes, remember to use their naming from now on. It's their planet and it will rouse less suspicion that way. As to your question, Earth is not interesting. At least it wasn't up until recently. With so little interest from the council, they didn't see the need to update the records. I mean it probably says that the current defensive measure is a massive ice mass. At least the reptilian beasts of the previous era were a better deterrent. “Luckily, Earth doesn't get many visitors. Just the occasional doubter. Sometimes those who are simply curious about the prison of the old ones. There are others who wish to ensure the security is tight. And those who wish to attempt to awaken the old ones are caught long before even they know they wanted to. By the way which are you?” “Well I'm definitely the curious one,” said Forvi. Vafir said nothing for as long as he could. The stares from Forvi eventually drove him from his silence, sighing heavily. “I'm the doubter.” They all turned to Daude who never looked away from the screen showing the ship coming to rest in a small clearing in a densely wooded forest. “Must I have to fit one of the remaining stereotypes? Why do I have to fit one at all?” “I bet your checking the security,” smiled Forvi. “Yes.” “This is it,” interrupted the guide. The screen flickered away from the outside camera and to that of Earth's map. Pointing to a region on the map, he continued. “We are here. Do either of you remember what place this is called?” “Uh, Kandahar?” asked Forvi. “Canada,” corrected the guide. “Specifically Manitoba Canada. It's important to remember. If you forget, just say you are tourists. The humans will accept that.” The three gathered their things and stood at the exit of the ship. They received many more instructions before they finally stopped out into the crisp Canadian air. The guide waited until the took the last step off the ramp of the ship. “This is where I part. I'll be back in seven Earth days. Don't be too disappointed when you meet the old one.” The door hissed closed before they question him further. The ship lifted into the air silently and popped away instantly. The three wasted no time in heading to their next destination. ----- I'll add part 2 later. Don't like writing on a phone. Super slow.
didn't finish but might as well post I guess He picked his way across the lifeless desert, one dune at a time. The howling winds rushed past, indifferent to the lone wanderer. From a distance, the gaunt man wrapped in a billowing black cloak would have looked like some omen of death, making his way through the dry ocean alone. Not that there was anyone to witness this man's approach. Not that there was a living soul within five thousand light years who could do so. No, this man's journey had been a solitary one, and so it would remain until he reached his destination. That is, if he ever reached it. If there was anything to reach at all. The First Planet had lain unadulterated for many millennia. The elements had long since taken over the pale blue dot. If there was any evidence of the once dominant force of humanity, it had been erased or at least covered over by soil, water, sand, vegetation and whatever else Mother Earth had to offer. The tallest buildings, once the pride of the inhabitants, now lay buried beneath centuries of neglect and the natural course of things. The man had been walking at a steady pace, broken only by the occasional misstep or an unusually strong gust of wind that threatened to topple him right there and then. And yet he relented. He had travelled farther than any living soul before him. He would not stop now. The map in his HUD showed him all he needed to know. A large red arrow, growing ever larger, bobbed up and down just above the horizon. He had been following it now for the better part of 3 Earth Years. His journey had taken him through the Known, the Fringes, the Outlands and finally here. To the planet his ancestors once called home. The planet that his ancestors and 8 billion others had fled once in search of a new home among the stars. The thought had occurred to him that he would be the first of his kind to set foot on the First Planet in so very long. He was somewhat uneasy even though his ship's computers had scanned the atmosphere, concluding that he would have no problem surviving in this alien planet. That made him chuckle. The very place where his species had originated was now an alien planet. Throughout his journey, he often considered the weight of his plan. The absurdity of it. The insanity. He was doing something that generations of people had sought to escape. Perhaps this was the turning point for the human race. Perhaps he was the inciting factor of natural evolution. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be in the grand scheme of things. But his reverie was suddenly broken as he realized that he had reached his destination. In front of him and towering over him, was the red arrow, now larger than it had ever been before, pointing straight down. He pressed a finger against his temple and the HUD disappeared from his sight. He was standing right above it. Miles and miles below the sand. Miles and miles below. He looked all around himself. Nothing but sand met his gaze, stinging his eyes, irritating his nostrils. Miles and miles. Miles and miles of nothing but sand. He collapsed onto the ground and lay there, letting the grains accumulate on his body, burying him deeper and deeper. He shot up out of the ground and touched his temple again. The HUD once again took over his sight. After navigating a few menus, he came to what he was looking for. This will either work or I'll be left stranded on Earth, he thought. Was it the best plan of action? Probably not. But he couldn't stop it now. The ship dropped into the atmosphere, picking up speed. At the same time, it drifted a little to this side and a little to that, always correcting its course to follow the signal coming from below. Faster. Faster. He had left it in the atmosphere in an attempt to save fuel and used a smaller pod to come to the surface . Now he looked out from behind the boulder he was crouching behind as his ship descended from the sky pointed directly at the small transmitter he had placed just where he had been standing a few minutes ago. The ship tore through the ground, its huge mass and speed helping it along. And in one fell swoop, he had tunneled all the way down. Now came the hard part. Waking up the demons. TO BE CONTINUED (or maybe not idk)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Rose growled under her breath. Someone had removed her mark. Again. She peed on the tree, re-marking it for the fifth time this week. She expected some disrespect. This was her first week on the job, but this was her dream job; Captian of the Galaxy Defenders. They saved the galaxy from The Great Old Ones. They were heroes! ​ Were heroes, was the problem. The original defenders saved the galaxy over a millennium ago. With the threat gone, and creeping budget cuts. The once great Galaxy Defenders were now a dozen people in a rented office. ​ A large blue ring on Rose's right paw started to pulse with light. She looked at it for a long moment. The colors pulsing between the dark blue and bright yellow. Her tail wagged with excitement. It was an emergency, a real emergency! This was her chance. She would prove herself and earn the respect her position deserved. She licked the ring. Magic energy poured out of it and engulfed her body. The energy twisted and bent the fabric of reality until she was no longer in the park, but standing in her office. The rush was exciting. Her tail wagged harder, knocking over the knickknacks on the shelf behind her. She turned around, causing her tail to fling papers around the room. ​ Jax materialized in the middle of the paper tornado. Rose spun to face him, causing her tail to fling more things into the air. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment while the chaos calmed. His hard exoskeleton reflected the harsh office light like a dark rainbow. A delicious looking rainbow, Rose thought. ​ "Mam," Jax said. His voice monotone. His species had hard inflexible vocal cords. Inflexion and tone were impossible. ​ "How many humans are left? What is the damping level?" Rose asked trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. ​ "The news is good mam," Jax said slowly. "Magic damping on earth has reached 90%" ​ Rose stared at him, waiting for an explanation. She liked Jax, but he often needed very explicit instructions. Rose was determined to break him of that habit. ​ After another moment, Jax seemed to understand. "According to projections, 90% damping shouldn't have happened in our lifetime. Now, at this new rate, we expect 100% damping in hundred years" ​ Rose sat down. "100%? is that even possible?" ​ "Yes, we believe so. As you know, human technology disrupts the flow of magic instead of utilizing it. Somehow they make everything work with heat and motion. The more they advance, the greater the dampening effect." ​ "What happens to The Great Old Ones when they reach 100%?" Rose asked. ​ "We can't know for sure. The records say The Great Old Ones are made from pure magic, making them immortal as long as magic exists." Jax said. ​ "So if the humans cut off the flow of magic, The Great Old Ones will die." Rose said. Her tail wagged excitedly again. The humans could end this once and for all. That's when Rose decided that she liked humans. They were very good monkeys, yes they were.
didn't finish but might as well post I guess He picked his way across the lifeless desert, one dune at a time. The howling winds rushed past, indifferent to the lone wanderer. From a distance, the gaunt man wrapped in a billowing black cloak would have looked like some omen of death, making his way through the dry ocean alone. Not that there was anyone to witness this man's approach. Not that there was a living soul within five thousand light years who could do so. No, this man's journey had been a solitary one, and so it would remain until he reached his destination. That is, if he ever reached it. If there was anything to reach at all. The First Planet had lain unadulterated for many millennia. The elements had long since taken over the pale blue dot. If there was any evidence of the once dominant force of humanity, it had been erased or at least covered over by soil, water, sand, vegetation and whatever else Mother Earth had to offer. The tallest buildings, once the pride of the inhabitants, now lay buried beneath centuries of neglect and the natural course of things. The man had been walking at a steady pace, broken only by the occasional misstep or an unusually strong gust of wind that threatened to topple him right there and then. And yet he relented. He had travelled farther than any living soul before him. He would not stop now. The map in his HUD showed him all he needed to know. A large red arrow, growing ever larger, bobbed up and down just above the horizon. He had been following it now for the better part of 3 Earth Years. His journey had taken him through the Known, the Fringes, the Outlands and finally here. To the planet his ancestors once called home. The planet that his ancestors and 8 billion others had fled once in search of a new home among the stars. The thought had occurred to him that he would be the first of his kind to set foot on the First Planet in so very long. He was somewhat uneasy even though his ship's computers had scanned the atmosphere, concluding that he would have no problem surviving in this alien planet. That made him chuckle. The very place where his species had originated was now an alien planet. Throughout his journey, he often considered the weight of his plan. The absurdity of it. The insanity. He was doing something that generations of people had sought to escape. Perhaps this was the turning point for the human race. Perhaps he was the inciting factor of natural evolution. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be in the grand scheme of things. But his reverie was suddenly broken as he realized that he had reached his destination. In front of him and towering over him, was the red arrow, now larger than it had ever been before, pointing straight down. He pressed a finger against his temple and the HUD disappeared from his sight. He was standing right above it. Miles and miles below the sand. Miles and miles below. He looked all around himself. Nothing but sand met his gaze, stinging his eyes, irritating his nostrils. Miles and miles. Miles and miles of nothing but sand. He collapsed onto the ground and lay there, letting the grains accumulate on his body, burying him deeper and deeper. He shot up out of the ground and touched his temple again. The HUD once again took over his sight. After navigating a few menus, he came to what he was looking for. This will either work or I'll be left stranded on Earth, he thought. Was it the best plan of action? Probably not. But he couldn't stop it now. The ship dropped into the atmosphere, picking up speed. At the same time, it drifted a little to this side and a little to that, always correcting its course to follow the signal coming from below. Faster. Faster. He had left it in the atmosphere in an attempt to save fuel and used a smaller pod to come to the surface . Now he looked out from behind the boulder he was crouching behind as his ship descended from the sky pointed directly at the small transmitter he had placed just where he had been standing a few minutes ago. The ship tore through the ground, its huge mass and speed helping it along. And in one fell swoop, he had tunneled all the way down. Now came the hard part. Waking up the demons. TO BE CONTINUED (or maybe not idk)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
(This is my first time guys, be kind, but firm with your feedback.) "But how?" The words echoed out of the malformed mouth mankind would call a beak, the english was course and high pitched, dripping with sharp whistles, and nasally notes. The small delegation of astronauts sat across the table from it. Large lumbering creatures, tiny heads, huge bodies, centaur like lower half, arms that hung so low they nearly dragged on the ground flaking the only door into the room. Odd metal plates forming armor adorned those bodies, not a scrap of skin showing, at least not as far as the small band could tell, heavy tools, assumably weapons filling their hands. The clunky space suit of the lead astronaut looking centuries, maybe longer out of date then those of the strange creatures across from him. His fingers idly played with the sun visor on his helmet that sat upon the table, his hair feathered, blonde, the name 'Tucker' plastered on his chest. "How what?" He asked after the long pause. The beaked creature took a long moment, as if thinking before screeching out english once more, "How did you survive?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question, "We were aware of your ancestors appearing, gaining sapients, but we never thought anything sapient could survive an eldritch prison planet." "Like Lovecraft?" One of the other astronauts asked from behind Tucker, only to be silent with him tossing his arm up. "A prison planet? What do you mean?" Tucker always felt a great deal of freedom in his life, even now, sitting there in the depths of space, even if it was aboard some UFO, he felt he had more freedom then nearly any man every born on earth. "I ask questions here." The alien echoed out, taking a long moment, "The eldritch energies must have warped your development somehow, if you cannot explain. We will wait for the scans." The alien turned to leave, only for him to stop, Tucker's fist hitting the desk they had sat at, the smooth black metal gave off a hum as if singing from the blow, "Now you just wait a second you bird faced bastard!" The lead astronaut spat those words out, "You took our ship, drugged us, tossed us in some black void looking room, you owe us some answers, or I'll show you some fucking Eldritch Energy." One of the large creatures chimed something in, the language was gruntal, and not a word of it made sense, but Tucker pointed, "And the finest crew mankind has ever put together isn't going to talk to some over-payed rent-a-cops, so shut the fuck up." The lead alien shook his head and continued to leave, only to stop once more as Tucker's helmet in the floor in front of his slithering mass that could be called feet, "I told you once you son of a bitch, now let me tell you again, you sit down in that chair right there, and tell me what I want to know." "Extreme hostility, could this be manifestation of Eldritch Energies?" The being slowly turned to face the trio of space travelers once more. "One question, then research continues." "One question each for wasting my time." Tucker retorted, his crew could see he was trembling, anxiety and fear in him. The creature gave a long low whistle. "Be quick then." It added like they were bitter words, words it was going to know well. "What is Eldritch Energy?" Tucker asked the most obvious question sitting there, up for grabs, but in need of some explanation as he sunk back into one of the chairs, resting across from the creature at the strange table. "Put in terms you will understand, it is the energy given off by the dorment Old Ones, the Abominations, whatever you call them, the energy must be radiated outwards less it collects in them, and allows them to wake up, it creates a zone of space dominated by this energy, at the center of this zone, The Veil of Madness-" The creature offer the name, "Sits the star you know as Sol, the prison of the largest of the Great Old Ones, others spread out among the whole system." "So like Cth-" The girl was cut off once more from a glare by Tucker, his eyes were narrow, "Right, don't waste it. What are these, uhh, Great Old Ones?" She asked with a smirk, greeted by a charismatic thumbs up from Tucker. The creature paused a long moment, "Beings older than time, more dense than all matter, with more than the Initial Singularity of our very universe. They are-" He paused, looking down a long moment. The last astronaut, the only of them still wearing his helmet, in a crackling static filled voice spoke, "They are where nightmares come from." "Nightmares?" The creature asked suddenly, the strange matter that resembled something not unlike a brain that constructed most of its head seemed to tense, and furrow, wiggle and pulse with thought. Tucker leaned back a bit in the chair, "Yeah, like the boogeyman, monsters under the bed, seeing strange lights out your window, shadows looking like people, nightmares, night terrors, things that go bump in the night." "This is it, the anomaly in your evolution. How the Eldritch Energy warped you, these nightmares." The creature seemed sure of itself, a coo in its high pitched voice. Tucker snorted, "You gotta be kidding me, you think childhood fears are these big bad Old dudes? That is the du-" He was cut off by the hand of one of his companions. He paused. "Tuck-" She spoke, arms moving back up, crossing, "So, you don't dream? Like when you rest, sleep, nothing? Or is it always pleasant?" The creature looked down, "Pleasant, restful, peaceful and content. These night terrors show how the Eldritch Energies affect your subconscious." "Are there any other species that have lived in the Veil of Madness?" the lady asked once more, letting Tucker take a back seat to her press. "Besides Humanity of Earth? There were also the Martians as your people dubbed them of mars and, the Venusians-" The birds voice was cut off by her once more, "What happened to them?" "Madness overtook them, and they destroyed themselves, exact details, unknown. All recovered species have been too far gone for interrogation." The creature explained. The girl's mouth opened once more, she was seconds from speaking, before that static came again, "So, the energy warps our subconscious when we sleep, so we developed to be sponges of madness, how fun."
didn't finish but might as well post I guess He picked his way across the lifeless desert, one dune at a time. The howling winds rushed past, indifferent to the lone wanderer. From a distance, the gaunt man wrapped in a billowing black cloak would have looked like some omen of death, making his way through the dry ocean alone. Not that there was anyone to witness this man's approach. Not that there was a living soul within five thousand light years who could do so. No, this man's journey had been a solitary one, and so it would remain until he reached his destination. That is, if he ever reached it. If there was anything to reach at all. The First Planet had lain unadulterated for many millennia. The elements had long since taken over the pale blue dot. If there was any evidence of the once dominant force of humanity, it had been erased or at least covered over by soil, water, sand, vegetation and whatever else Mother Earth had to offer. The tallest buildings, once the pride of the inhabitants, now lay buried beneath centuries of neglect and the natural course of things. The man had been walking at a steady pace, broken only by the occasional misstep or an unusually strong gust of wind that threatened to topple him right there and then. And yet he relented. He had travelled farther than any living soul before him. He would not stop now. The map in his HUD showed him all he needed to know. A large red arrow, growing ever larger, bobbed up and down just above the horizon. He had been following it now for the better part of 3 Earth Years. His journey had taken him through the Known, the Fringes, the Outlands and finally here. To the planet his ancestors once called home. The planet that his ancestors and 8 billion others had fled once in search of a new home among the stars. The thought had occurred to him that he would be the first of his kind to set foot on the First Planet in so very long. He was somewhat uneasy even though his ship's computers had scanned the atmosphere, concluding that he would have no problem surviving in this alien planet. That made him chuckle. The very place where his species had originated was now an alien planet. Throughout his journey, he often considered the weight of his plan. The absurdity of it. The insanity. He was doing something that generations of people had sought to escape. Perhaps this was the turning point for the human race. Perhaps he was the inciting factor of natural evolution. Perhaps this was how it was meant to be in the grand scheme of things. But his reverie was suddenly broken as he realized that he had reached his destination. In front of him and towering over him, was the red arrow, now larger than it had ever been before, pointing straight down. He pressed a finger against his temple and the HUD disappeared from his sight. He was standing right above it. Miles and miles below the sand. Miles and miles below. He looked all around himself. Nothing but sand met his gaze, stinging his eyes, irritating his nostrils. Miles and miles. Miles and miles of nothing but sand. He collapsed onto the ground and lay there, letting the grains accumulate on his body, burying him deeper and deeper. He shot up out of the ground and touched his temple again. The HUD once again took over his sight. After navigating a few menus, he came to what he was looking for. This will either work or I'll be left stranded on Earth, he thought. Was it the best plan of action? Probably not. But he couldn't stop it now. The ship dropped into the atmosphere, picking up speed. At the same time, it drifted a little to this side and a little to that, always correcting its course to follow the signal coming from below. Faster. Faster. He had left it in the atmosphere in an attempt to save fuel and used a smaller pod to come to the surface . Now he looked out from behind the boulder he was crouching behind as his ship descended from the sky pointed directly at the small transmitter he had placed just where he had been standing a few minutes ago. The ship tore through the ground, its huge mass and speed helping it along. And in one fell swoop, he had tunneled all the way down. Now came the hard part. Waking up the demons. TO BE CONTINUED (or maybe not idk)
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Banks of monitors and screens fill up the spacious room that five figures have gathered in. Seated around the oval desk placed off center in the room start are stacks of printouts and holos in front of them. While the room is warm to their standards a chill seems to have filled the recycled air in the room. ​ "Gentlemen." Begins Vice-Admiral Niric. " The data in front of us shows the collected results of the last five thousand years. You can each bring the data back to your departments to review but we must make a decision soon." Niric gazes at each of the four departments heads at the table with him. "The containment will fail and I've noted the second chapter about our own failures to respond to ever growing energy requirements to keep the neural blanket operating. " Niric had added the last confession for the simple reason that he didn't need his rivals using it as a weapon against him in the next few moments. ​ "Simply put our mandate is to figure out what we can do differently or if we need to ask for a Assembly vote for a more drastic solution. In the last two hundred years it seems that the seeded life forms have started to show a resistance to the field and has led to some Titan influences. You can look under Lovecraft and Mignola in the footnotes to see how their influence had seeped out but it's happening more and more often." Niric gestures to the figure seated beside him and continues. "Citizen Scientist N'gal has also provided a timeline to the energy requirements needed to keep the colonists in system." ​ With the a small waive from Niric it prompts N'gal to stand up and address the other three. "We have used the stations in the past to supress the , for a lack of better term, broadcasts from the Titans. We have started with fourteen fusion plants per array and have had to up the energy to forty five plants with a additional twelve on standby during the few times the locals have used nuclear testing. There was also a complete containment failure during a apparent local power system failure twenty cycles ago. We where able to suppress functions within 2 rotations but the damage was done." N'gal pauses to take a sip of water from the glass in front of him. "The current heat cycle of the planet will have the southern pole exposed in three local cycles and that will leave the Titan vault exposed. We estimate Titan discovery within another 4 cycles even with the environmental data we have leaked into the local nets. No intelligent creatures would ever heat a planet so without being compromised by a Titan." Four of the heads at the table nodded in unison at the statement. It seemed unthinkable to the Aassembly that a world would destroy itself in a runaway fashion with obvious data showing the foreseeable outcome. ​ ​ "A question for both of you then." The statement comes the middle person of the sitting trio, System Admiral Solariun. "It seems to me like you are suggesting the need for a wipe no matter what we do. The containment has failed at critical times , the tech jumps that happened far too quickly , a local resistance to most of the biological weapons ever designed by the Assembly before the ban, and even the basics of interstellar travel have started to take hold. " The stern words have dropped the temperature even further in the room. "You can't expect myself as the forces liaison here to think there is a solution that doesn't involve a reset, again!" A wrathful gaze turns toward Niric. "Your department has failed . Titan containment isn't possible long term and it's eventual local corruption requires a more permanent solution. Irradiate the planet and declare it off limits." With the outburst finished Solariun seats himself. ​ The outburst catches Niric by surprise and the vitriol causes the two others to subconsciously turn away from Solariun. "Clearly," Starts Niric. "You didn't read the briefing. The reason we seeded that graveyard and last stand of the Titans is that the Titan influence was almost three sectors in range after they where subdued and a release was almost caused by your departments predecessor five and half thousand cycles ago. Keeping a tech repressed life form on the planet has also allowed us to amplify the neural damper we broadcast." Niric starts to key up the console in front of him with the last words. Quickly finding what he was looking for he looks back towards Solariun with a challenging glare. "See the highlighted section in front of you. Power requirements would be seventeen fold higher without the life form amplification and we would still have to have a three system block off. That doesn't include the AI requirements for keeping the entire system running and in good repair." Niric pauses himself to let Soariun pour over the data he has sent to the console. ​ Sarliun looks away from the withering gaze of Niric and down toward his screen. Clearly wanting the focus to be off of himself Solariun asks the person to his left. "Vior , what does the economic analysis say?" Hoping to deflect the conversation while he gathers more information. ​ The enthusiastic voice of Vior quickly adds his opinion as if had been waiting to add his opinion. "Currently the project has quadrupled it's budget size in the last two hundred cycles and the increase projected will require a Assembly vote no matter what we do. The Titan mandate may be amongst the oldest still in effect but most worlds don't even mention it in passing. The assembly just came to be for no reason in their minds. I hate to agree with Solariun but a military option might work best but this would require additional planning a budgetary allotment." ​ With that last statement hanging in the air the attention now focuses on the last member of the committee. She hadn't glanced at any of the materials in front of herself nor had she even looked at the other four while they spoke. Dismissive in tone ,she starts . "I've been informed we have one plan that has been approved and in the works. Apparently intelligence concluded that the current problem was going to happen close to one hundred and fifty cycles ago. Current in the works is a planetwide nuclear event which will result in a fallout , level seven. We'll end the nuclear winter earlier than naturally possible to maintain a high enough life cycle count and a estimated five to seven hundred cycle technical regression. Animal and vegetation will be modified and seeded to ensure a viable ecology and cleanup will occur without any possible chance of planetside monitoring. It's already been approved by the Black Site Assembly committee but they wanted a set of eyes on this meeting to see if anything new would would come to the table. Seeing as none of you could contribute anything that wasn't in the already available materials I would like to thank you for wasting my time." ​ Silence holds the room as each member looks at the agent who meets each of their gazes without backing down. Niric is the first to recover after averting his gaze. "You're saying this whole study and committee was a sham. No matter what we found are tried you knew the end result would be the same." ​ "Yes." The agent nods with her response. ​ "It's a plan with a few billion lives on your departments conscious." Adds Salriun. ​ "Your department is war Salriun, don't lecture me about a body count. Death from a cruiser or from a atmospheric bomb is going be the same for either of us. The only thing you four need to concern yourself with for the time being is making what I've said happen. The orders will be made available to you in the next few days. " With a dismissive waive of her hand the unnamed agent stands up from her hair and leaves the room.
Yivinne let out a scream of anguish that echoed through the cramped cockpit as the panel next to her exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented polymers. She felt the ship lurch and drop out of the warp so abruptly that she could feel her hearts flutter in panic. A cratered moon appeared on the viewscreen before her though she could barely make it out as blue-green blood cascaded from the wounds across her face. She rose a webbed hand and wiped as much blood as she could away from her eyes which were inky black and wide with terror. “Yivinne!” a distorted voice came across comms. “You okay up there?” “Just get the engines online, Nett! We're like thraava swimmers ready to be eaten out here.” Her eyes narrowed, scanning over the panels that still remained. Blood was trying to ooze past her narrow fingers, but she pressed tighter still, doing everything she could to staunch the flow. Had the pirates passed them when she dropped from warp? She wasn't even entirely certain where she was, and the fact her navigation computer had just exploded wasn't doing her any favors. “This is going to take cycles, Yivinne. Warp engine is completely hosed from the trauma.” Nett sounded more analytical that worried, but this was normal. A cool voice announced “Warning. The vessel is currently caught in a local gravitational field.” Her free hand danced across the controls and silenced the alarm as she cycled through the external cameras. “We're as good as dead if they find us. Maybe we can take refuge on this planet...” The planet in question dominated the viewscreen now. It was a green-blue world with vast weather structures, and reminded Yivinne of home albeit with far more landmass. Nett's face suddenly replaced the planet, his eyes wide and head tentacles shivering with anxiety. “Yivinne we can't land there... that's...” Realization washed over Yivinne like she had just been plunged into the icy waters of the frozen circle. It was the place no Y'tani dared go. They called it the prison world, the place where the First Ones had locked away the most horrible things the universe had ever born. It looked almost inviting and beautiful. Yivinne remembered what lurked beneath the surface and it make her feel like something was squirming in her stomach desperate to escape. The words of the elders came racing back. Forbidden. Cursed. Certain death. Earth.
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"We are almost there" T1 yelled backed to me through the blizzard. It is a very risky task we have at hand, waking the ancient beast known as 'Everest'. "We better get this done and get out before the feds notice what going on" I said to T3, who was lagging behind. "Why would we care if the FBI knows?" "How new are you? The Intergalactic federation, those feds are the ones that dont want the only threat to their power awoken." I explanined to T3. T1 gave me a nasty glare. Designation Thumper-3 was the newest member of our little squad among the rebellion. He didnt know much about what we are doing, he's a Human who signed up for this because we travel and he happended to have the qualifications. Our job, as a 'Thumper' is to shake the ground above a beast and wake it. We were only told that we would have to climb to the top of this beasts head. We were not told it's size. "This is it" T1 said as he put a hand back to stop us. We approached T1 slowly to overlook a hole about 5 feet wide with seemingly no bottom. "Yo One, what is this? How did this get here?" T3 asked. "Its a from a long-" "Ita a cannon ball hole" T1 interupted as he elbowed me. "The feds shot a really big cannon at everest in an attempt to kill it" I thought that was strange, thats clearly from the IF's long distance laser. "Oh wow, its impressive they have a cannon that big!" T3 exclaimed. "Well what are we here for?" I asked. "Everest has been asleep for thousands of years, all this dirt, rock, and snow has built up on top of it. We need to go down this to get close enough to wake it up." "Well how are we going to get down there? We wont all fit at the bottom" T3 asked. "Im going to go down first and dig out a small room" He tied a rope and started climbing down "So it sounded like you had a difderent explaination for this hole?" "Oh yeah well..." I started to think about T1 elbowing me. "Well there this rumor that the feds have this laser that can shoot basically across the galaxy" "Oh really? That would be crazy if they did" T3 said in a worried tone. He seemed more alarmed than suprised. A message flashed on my wrist display from T1. "Ready" "Alright he's done, you ready to get down there?" "Yeah.. but can u go first? I havent done this before, I'm not really sure how." "Oh well just use this, I don't want to leave a new guy up here alone." I hand him a harness with a winch on it, we brought one just in case someone got hurt. "oh, well, ok i guess this..." he trailed off, seemingly upset i didn't leave him up here. He starts his descent and I immediately get a call from T1. "I can hear the harness, this might be the only time i can talk without 3 being around. I think he's with the feds." "What? why? is that why you interuppted me earlier?" "Yes, the IF's laser is supposed to be a secret weapon that we don't know about" Oh shit. "Ummm, I kinda mentioned that there is a rumor about it to him" "What?! what did he say?" "Oh he just said wow and got real quiet." "Two, I think hes with them." "Are you-" "Wait are you talking into the hole right now" We both said in unison. We both said no. "Two cut the rope, He's a spy" "What?" "Hes talking to the Federation right now, telling them what we know." "Im just going to climb down." "No! theres jot enough time, do-" T1 says as his radio cuts out. "One what's going on?" Nothing. "One?" "GET DOW-" I jumped down the hole grabbing the rope, sliding down and burning my hands. I land hard at the bottom, only to see T1 on top of T3 with a knife to his throat. "What is going on??" "Spyboy here wont tell why he just tried to stab me in the back." "Send forces to everest, theres are s-" T1 punches him in the face and cuts him off. I might continue writing this depending on how much attention it gets.
Yivinne let out a scream of anguish that echoed through the cramped cockpit as the panel next to her exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented polymers. She felt the ship lurch and drop out of the warp so abruptly that she could feel her hearts flutter in panic. A cratered moon appeared on the viewscreen before her though she could barely make it out as blue-green blood cascaded from the wounds across her face. She rose a webbed hand and wiped as much blood as she could away from her eyes which were inky black and wide with terror. “Yivinne!” a distorted voice came across comms. “You okay up there?” “Just get the engines online, Nett! We're like thraava swimmers ready to be eaten out here.” Her eyes narrowed, scanning over the panels that still remained. Blood was trying to ooze past her narrow fingers, but she pressed tighter still, doing everything she could to staunch the flow. Had the pirates passed them when she dropped from warp? She wasn't even entirely certain where she was, and the fact her navigation computer had just exploded wasn't doing her any favors. “This is going to take cycles, Yivinne. Warp engine is completely hosed from the trauma.” Nett sounded more analytical that worried, but this was normal. A cool voice announced “Warning. The vessel is currently caught in a local gravitational field.” Her free hand danced across the controls and silenced the alarm as she cycled through the external cameras. “We're as good as dead if they find us. Maybe we can take refuge on this planet...” The planet in question dominated the viewscreen now. It was a green-blue world with vast weather structures, and reminded Yivinne of home albeit with far more landmass. Nett's face suddenly replaced the planet, his eyes wide and head tentacles shivering with anxiety. “Yivinne we can't land there... that's...” Realization washed over Yivinne like she had just been plunged into the icy waters of the frozen circle. It was the place no Y'tani dared go. They called it the prison world, the place where the First Ones had locked away the most horrible things the universe had ever born. It looked almost inviting and beautiful. Yivinne remembered what lurked beneath the surface and it make her feel like something was squirming in her stomach desperate to escape. The words of the elders came racing back. Forbidden. Cursed. Certain death. Earth.
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
“We are nearing the destination. Changing our approach to hide us behind their moon. They can detect us now if we are not careful.” The guide prodded the holographic console, altering the trajectory of their ship without any effect of inertia. “I don't see why we need a guide get us on the ground,” said Daude. The guide looked back at Daude and the others. “The latest security measures are adapting very rapidly lately.” “How so?” asked Vafir. “They--” The guide stopped short when he noticed the perplexed looks on the faces of his passengers. “You don't know who ’they’ are do you?” After letting the silence confirm his suspicion, he continued. “They call themselves humans. Organic creatures of simple intelligence brought in about fifty thousand years ago. Oh and before I forget, make sure you take your translator capsule before you get off. You don't want to be speaking like us down there. Humans are vocally monotone. Um, oh yes, they have advanced recently to reach into space and littered it profusely. Needless to say, they can now see us if we are careless.” “I don't remember hearing of any humans being set as guardians of the old ones,” said Daude with a scowl. “The old ones are a dying myth,” retorted Vafir. “Then why did you tag along?” “To prove you wrong of course.” Daude snorted in response and averted his gaze. “Sooo…” said Forvi, breaking the silence. “Why don't they mention humans on R113--er, Earth?” “Yes, remember to use their naming from now on. It's their planet and it will rouse less suspicion that way. As to your question, Earth is not interesting. At least it wasn't up until recently. With so little interest from the council, they didn't see the need to update the records. I mean it probably says that the current defensive measure is a massive ice mass. At least the reptilian beasts of the previous era were a better deterrent. “Luckily, Earth doesn't get many visitors. Just the occasional doubter. Sometimes those who are simply curious about the prison of the old ones. There are others who wish to ensure the security is tight. And those who wish to attempt to awaken the old ones are caught long before even they know they wanted to. By the way which are you?” “Well I'm definitely the curious one,” said Forvi. Vafir said nothing for as long as he could. The stares from Forvi eventually drove him from his silence, sighing heavily. “I'm the doubter.” They all turned to Daude who never looked away from the screen showing the ship coming to rest in a small clearing in a densely wooded forest. “Must I have to fit one of the remaining stereotypes? Why do I have to fit one at all?” “I bet your checking the security,” smiled Forvi. “Yes.” “This is it,” interrupted the guide. The screen flickered away from the outside camera and to that of Earth's map. Pointing to a region on the map, he continued. “We are here. Do either of you remember what place this is called?” “Uh, Kandahar?” asked Forvi. “Canada,” corrected the guide. “Specifically Manitoba Canada. It's important to remember. If you forget, just say you are tourists. The humans will accept that.” The three gathered their things and stood at the exit of the ship. They received many more instructions before they finally stopped out into the crisp Canadian air. The guide waited until the took the last step off the ramp of the ship. “This is where I part. I'll be back in seven Earth days. Don't be too disappointed when you meet the old one.” The door hissed closed before they question him further. The ship lifted into the air silently and popped away instantly. The three wasted no time in heading to their next destination. ----- I'll add part 2 later. Don't like writing on a phone. Super slow.
Yivinne let out a scream of anguish that echoed through the cramped cockpit as the panel next to her exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented polymers. She felt the ship lurch and drop out of the warp so abruptly that she could feel her hearts flutter in panic. A cratered moon appeared on the viewscreen before her though she could barely make it out as blue-green blood cascaded from the wounds across her face. She rose a webbed hand and wiped as much blood as she could away from her eyes which were inky black and wide with terror. “Yivinne!” a distorted voice came across comms. “You okay up there?” “Just get the engines online, Nett! We're like thraava swimmers ready to be eaten out here.” Her eyes narrowed, scanning over the panels that still remained. Blood was trying to ooze past her narrow fingers, but she pressed tighter still, doing everything she could to staunch the flow. Had the pirates passed them when she dropped from warp? She wasn't even entirely certain where she was, and the fact her navigation computer had just exploded wasn't doing her any favors. “This is going to take cycles, Yivinne. Warp engine is completely hosed from the trauma.” Nett sounded more analytical that worried, but this was normal. A cool voice announced “Warning. The vessel is currently caught in a local gravitational field.” Her free hand danced across the controls and silenced the alarm as she cycled through the external cameras. “We're as good as dead if they find us. Maybe we can take refuge on this planet...” The planet in question dominated the viewscreen now. It was a green-blue world with vast weather structures, and reminded Yivinne of home albeit with far more landmass. Nett's face suddenly replaced the planet, his eyes wide and head tentacles shivering with anxiety. “Yivinne we can't land there... that's...” Realization washed over Yivinne like she had just been plunged into the icy waters of the frozen circle. It was the place no Y'tani dared go. They called it the prison world, the place where the First Ones had locked away the most horrible things the universe had ever born. It looked almost inviting and beautiful. Yivinne remembered what lurked beneath the surface and it make her feel like something was squirming in her stomach desperate to escape. The words of the elders came racing back. Forbidden. Cursed. Certain death. Earth.
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Rose growled under her breath. Someone had removed her mark. Again. She peed on the tree, re-marking it for the fifth time this week. She expected some disrespect. This was her first week on the job, but this was her dream job; Captian of the Galaxy Defenders. They saved the galaxy from The Great Old Ones. They were heroes! ​ Were heroes, was the problem. The original defenders saved the galaxy over a millennium ago. With the threat gone, and creeping budget cuts. The once great Galaxy Defenders were now a dozen people in a rented office. ​ A large blue ring on Rose's right paw started to pulse with light. She looked at it for a long moment. The colors pulsing between the dark blue and bright yellow. Her tail wagged with excitement. It was an emergency, a real emergency! This was her chance. She would prove herself and earn the respect her position deserved. She licked the ring. Magic energy poured out of it and engulfed her body. The energy twisted and bent the fabric of reality until she was no longer in the park, but standing in her office. The rush was exciting. Her tail wagged harder, knocking over the knickknacks on the shelf behind her. She turned around, causing her tail to fling papers around the room. ​ Jax materialized in the middle of the paper tornado. Rose spun to face him, causing her tail to fling more things into the air. The two of them just stared at each other for a moment while the chaos calmed. His hard exoskeleton reflected the harsh office light like a dark rainbow. A delicious looking rainbow, Rose thought. ​ "Mam," Jax said. His voice monotone. His species had hard inflexible vocal cords. Inflexion and tone were impossible. ​ "How many humans are left? What is the damping level?" Rose asked trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. ​ "The news is good mam," Jax said slowly. "Magic damping on earth has reached 90%" ​ Rose stared at him, waiting for an explanation. She liked Jax, but he often needed very explicit instructions. Rose was determined to break him of that habit. ​ After another moment, Jax seemed to understand. "According to projections, 90% damping shouldn't have happened in our lifetime. Now, at this new rate, we expect 100% damping in hundred years" ​ Rose sat down. "100%? is that even possible?" ​ "Yes, we believe so. As you know, human technology disrupts the flow of magic instead of utilizing it. Somehow they make everything work with heat and motion. The more they advance, the greater the dampening effect." ​ "What happens to The Great Old Ones when they reach 100%?" Rose asked. ​ "We can't know for sure. The records say The Great Old Ones are made from pure magic, making them immortal as long as magic exists." Jax said. ​ "So if the humans cut off the flow of magic, The Great Old Ones will die." Rose said. Her tail wagged excitedly again. The humans could end this once and for all. That's when Rose decided that she liked humans. They were very good monkeys, yes they were.
Yivinne let out a scream of anguish that echoed through the cramped cockpit as the panel next to her exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented polymers. She felt the ship lurch and drop out of the warp so abruptly that she could feel her hearts flutter in panic. A cratered moon appeared on the viewscreen before her though she could barely make it out as blue-green blood cascaded from the wounds across her face. She rose a webbed hand and wiped as much blood as she could away from her eyes which were inky black and wide with terror. “Yivinne!” a distorted voice came across comms. “You okay up there?” “Just get the engines online, Nett! We're like thraava swimmers ready to be eaten out here.” Her eyes narrowed, scanning over the panels that still remained. Blood was trying to ooze past her narrow fingers, but she pressed tighter still, doing everything she could to staunch the flow. Had the pirates passed them when she dropped from warp? She wasn't even entirely certain where she was, and the fact her navigation computer had just exploded wasn't doing her any favors. “This is going to take cycles, Yivinne. Warp engine is completely hosed from the trauma.” Nett sounded more analytical that worried, but this was normal. A cool voice announced “Warning. The vessel is currently caught in a local gravitational field.” Her free hand danced across the controls and silenced the alarm as she cycled through the external cameras. “We're as good as dead if they find us. Maybe we can take refuge on this planet...” The planet in question dominated the viewscreen now. It was a green-blue world with vast weather structures, and reminded Yivinne of home albeit with far more landmass. Nett's face suddenly replaced the planet, his eyes wide and head tentacles shivering with anxiety. “Yivinne we can't land there... that's...” Realization washed over Yivinne like she had just been plunged into the icy waters of the frozen circle. It was the place no Y'tani dared go. They called it the prison world, the place where the First Ones had locked away the most horrible things the universe had ever born. It looked almost inviting and beautiful. Yivinne remembered what lurked beneath the surface and it make her feel like something was squirming in her stomach desperate to escape. The words of the elders came racing back. Forbidden. Cursed. Certain death. Earth.
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
(This is my first time guys, be kind, but firm with your feedback.) "But how?" The words echoed out of the malformed mouth mankind would call a beak, the english was course and high pitched, dripping with sharp whistles, and nasally notes. The small delegation of astronauts sat across the table from it. Large lumbering creatures, tiny heads, huge bodies, centaur like lower half, arms that hung so low they nearly dragged on the ground flaking the only door into the room. Odd metal plates forming armor adorned those bodies, not a scrap of skin showing, at least not as far as the small band could tell, heavy tools, assumably weapons filling their hands. The clunky space suit of the lead astronaut looking centuries, maybe longer out of date then those of the strange creatures across from him. His fingers idly played with the sun visor on his helmet that sat upon the table, his hair feathered, blonde, the name 'Tucker' plastered on his chest. "How what?" He asked after the long pause. The beaked creature took a long moment, as if thinking before screeching out english once more, "How did you survive?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question, "We were aware of your ancestors appearing, gaining sapients, but we never thought anything sapient could survive an eldritch prison planet." "Like Lovecraft?" One of the other astronauts asked from behind Tucker, only to be silent with him tossing his arm up. "A prison planet? What do you mean?" Tucker always felt a great deal of freedom in his life, even now, sitting there in the depths of space, even if it was aboard some UFO, he felt he had more freedom then nearly any man every born on earth. "I ask questions here." The alien echoed out, taking a long moment, "The eldritch energies must have warped your development somehow, if you cannot explain. We will wait for the scans." The alien turned to leave, only for him to stop, Tucker's fist hitting the desk they had sat at, the smooth black metal gave off a hum as if singing from the blow, "Now you just wait a second you bird faced bastard!" The lead astronaut spat those words out, "You took our ship, drugged us, tossed us in some black void looking room, you owe us some answers, or I'll show you some fucking Eldritch Energy." One of the large creatures chimed something in, the language was gruntal, and not a word of it made sense, but Tucker pointed, "And the finest crew mankind has ever put together isn't going to talk to some over-payed rent-a-cops, so shut the fuck up." The lead alien shook his head and continued to leave, only to stop once more as Tucker's helmet in the floor in front of his slithering mass that could be called feet, "I told you once you son of a bitch, now let me tell you again, you sit down in that chair right there, and tell me what I want to know." "Extreme hostility, could this be manifestation of Eldritch Energies?" The being slowly turned to face the trio of space travelers once more. "One question, then research continues." "One question each for wasting my time." Tucker retorted, his crew could see he was trembling, anxiety and fear in him. The creature gave a long low whistle. "Be quick then." It added like they were bitter words, words it was going to know well. "What is Eldritch Energy?" Tucker asked the most obvious question sitting there, up for grabs, but in need of some explanation as he sunk back into one of the chairs, resting across from the creature at the strange table. "Put in terms you will understand, it is the energy given off by the dorment Old Ones, the Abominations, whatever you call them, the energy must be radiated outwards less it collects in them, and allows them to wake up, it creates a zone of space dominated by this energy, at the center of this zone, The Veil of Madness-" The creature offer the name, "Sits the star you know as Sol, the prison of the largest of the Great Old Ones, others spread out among the whole system." "So like Cth-" The girl was cut off once more from a glare by Tucker, his eyes were narrow, "Right, don't waste it. What are these, uhh, Great Old Ones?" She asked with a smirk, greeted by a charismatic thumbs up from Tucker. The creature paused a long moment, "Beings older than time, more dense than all matter, with more than the Initial Singularity of our very universe. They are-" He paused, looking down a long moment. The last astronaut, the only of them still wearing his helmet, in a crackling static filled voice spoke, "They are where nightmares come from." "Nightmares?" The creature asked suddenly, the strange matter that resembled something not unlike a brain that constructed most of its head seemed to tense, and furrow, wiggle and pulse with thought. Tucker leaned back a bit in the chair, "Yeah, like the boogeyman, monsters under the bed, seeing strange lights out your window, shadows looking like people, nightmares, night terrors, things that go bump in the night." "This is it, the anomaly in your evolution. How the Eldritch Energy warped you, these nightmares." The creature seemed sure of itself, a coo in its high pitched voice. Tucker snorted, "You gotta be kidding me, you think childhood fears are these big bad Old dudes? That is the du-" He was cut off by the hand of one of his companions. He paused. "Tuck-" She spoke, arms moving back up, crossing, "So, you don't dream? Like when you rest, sleep, nothing? Or is it always pleasant?" The creature looked down, "Pleasant, restful, peaceful and content. These night terrors show how the Eldritch Energies affect your subconscious." "Are there any other species that have lived in the Veil of Madness?" the lady asked once more, letting Tucker take a back seat to her press. "Besides Humanity of Earth? There were also the Martians as your people dubbed them of mars and, the Venusians-" The birds voice was cut off by her once more, "What happened to them?" "Madness overtook them, and they destroyed themselves, exact details, unknown. All recovered species have been too far gone for interrogation." The creature explained. The girl's mouth opened once more, she was seconds from speaking, before that static came again, "So, the energy warps our subconscious when we sleep, so we developed to be sponges of madness, how fun."
Yivinne let out a scream of anguish that echoed through the cramped cockpit as the panel next to her exploded in a shower of sparks and fragmented polymers. She felt the ship lurch and drop out of the warp so abruptly that she could feel her hearts flutter in panic. A cratered moon appeared on the viewscreen before her though she could barely make it out as blue-green blood cascaded from the wounds across her face. She rose a webbed hand and wiped as much blood as she could away from her eyes which were inky black and wide with terror. “Yivinne!” a distorted voice came across comms. “You okay up there?” “Just get the engines online, Nett! We're like thraava swimmers ready to be eaten out here.” Her eyes narrowed, scanning over the panels that still remained. Blood was trying to ooze past her narrow fingers, but she pressed tighter still, doing everything she could to staunch the flow. Had the pirates passed them when she dropped from warp? She wasn't even entirely certain where she was, and the fact her navigation computer had just exploded wasn't doing her any favors. “This is going to take cycles, Yivinne. Warp engine is completely hosed from the trauma.” Nett sounded more analytical that worried, but this was normal. A cool voice announced “Warning. The vessel is currently caught in a local gravitational field.” Her free hand danced across the controls and silenced the alarm as she cycled through the external cameras. “We're as good as dead if they find us. Maybe we can take refuge on this planet...” The planet in question dominated the viewscreen now. It was a green-blue world with vast weather structures, and reminded Yivinne of home albeit with far more landmass. Nett's face suddenly replaced the planet, his eyes wide and head tentacles shivering with anxiety. “Yivinne we can't land there... that's...” Realization washed over Yivinne like she had just been plunged into the icy waters of the frozen circle. It was the place no Y'tani dared go. They called it the prison world, the place where the First Ones had locked away the most horrible things the universe had ever born. It looked almost inviting and beautiful. Yivinne remembered what lurked beneath the surface and it make her feel like something was squirming in her stomach desperate to escape. The words of the elders came racing back. Forbidden. Cursed. Certain death. Earth.
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
(This is my first time guys, be kind, but firm with your feedback.) "But how?" The words echoed out of the malformed mouth mankind would call a beak, the english was course and high pitched, dripping with sharp whistles, and nasally notes. The small delegation of astronauts sat across the table from it. Large lumbering creatures, tiny heads, huge bodies, centaur like lower half, arms that hung so low they nearly dragged on the ground flaking the only door into the room. Odd metal plates forming armor adorned those bodies, not a scrap of skin showing, at least not as far as the small band could tell, heavy tools, assumably weapons filling their hands. The clunky space suit of the lead astronaut looking centuries, maybe longer out of date then those of the strange creatures across from him. His fingers idly played with the sun visor on his helmet that sat upon the table, his hair feathered, blonde, the name 'Tucker' plastered on his chest. "How what?" He asked after the long pause. The beaked creature took a long moment, as if thinking before screeching out english once more, "How did you survive?" He asked as if it was the most obvious question, "We were aware of your ancestors appearing, gaining sapients, but we never thought anything sapient could survive an eldritch prison planet." "Like Lovecraft?" One of the other astronauts asked from behind Tucker, only to be silent with him tossing his arm up. "A prison planet? What do you mean?" Tucker always felt a great deal of freedom in his life, even now, sitting there in the depths of space, even if it was aboard some UFO, he felt he had more freedom then nearly any man every born on earth. "I ask questions here." The alien echoed out, taking a long moment, "The eldritch energies must have warped your development somehow, if you cannot explain. We will wait for the scans." The alien turned to leave, only for him to stop, Tucker's fist hitting the desk they had sat at, the smooth black metal gave off a hum as if singing from the blow, "Now you just wait a second you bird faced bastard!" The lead astronaut spat those words out, "You took our ship, drugged us, tossed us in some black void looking room, you owe us some answers, or I'll show you some fucking Eldritch Energy." One of the large creatures chimed something in, the language was gruntal, and not a word of it made sense, but Tucker pointed, "And the finest crew mankind has ever put together isn't going to talk to some over-payed rent-a-cops, so shut the fuck up." The lead alien shook his head and continued to leave, only to stop once more as Tucker's helmet in the floor in front of his slithering mass that could be called feet, "I told you once you son of a bitch, now let me tell you again, you sit down in that chair right there, and tell me what I want to know." "Extreme hostility, could this be manifestation of Eldritch Energies?" The being slowly turned to face the trio of space travelers once more. "One question, then research continues." "One question each for wasting my time." Tucker retorted, his crew could see he was trembling, anxiety and fear in him. The creature gave a long low whistle. "Be quick then." It added like they were bitter words, words it was going to know well. "What is Eldritch Energy?" Tucker asked the most obvious question sitting there, up for grabs, but in need of some explanation as he sunk back into one of the chairs, resting across from the creature at the strange table. "Put in terms you will understand, it is the energy given off by the dorment Old Ones, the Abominations, whatever you call them, the energy must be radiated outwards less it collects in them, and allows them to wake up, it creates a zone of space dominated by this energy, at the center of this zone, The Veil of Madness-" The creature offer the name, "Sits the star you know as Sol, the prison of the largest of the Great Old Ones, others spread out among the whole system." "So like Cth-" The girl was cut off once more from a glare by Tucker, his eyes were narrow, "Right, don't waste it. What are these, uhh, Great Old Ones?" She asked with a smirk, greeted by a charismatic thumbs up from Tucker. The creature paused a long moment, "Beings older than time, more dense than all matter, with more than the Initial Singularity of our very universe. They are-" He paused, looking down a long moment. The last astronaut, the only of them still wearing his helmet, in a crackling static filled voice spoke, "They are where nightmares come from." "Nightmares?" The creature asked suddenly, the strange matter that resembled something not unlike a brain that constructed most of its head seemed to tense, and furrow, wiggle and pulse with thought. Tucker leaned back a bit in the chair, "Yeah, like the boogeyman, monsters under the bed, seeing strange lights out your window, shadows looking like people, nightmares, night terrors, things that go bump in the night." "This is it, the anomaly in your evolution. How the Eldritch Energy warped you, these nightmares." The creature seemed sure of itself, a coo in its high pitched voice. Tucker snorted, "You gotta be kidding me, you think childhood fears are these big bad Old dudes? That is the du-" He was cut off by the hand of one of his companions. He paused. "Tuck-" She spoke, arms moving back up, crossing, "So, you don't dream? Like when you rest, sleep, nothing? Or is it always pleasant?" The creature looked down, "Pleasant, restful, peaceful and content. These night terrors show how the Eldritch Energies affect your subconscious." "Are there any other species that have lived in the Veil of Madness?" the lady asked once more, letting Tucker take a back seat to her press. "Besides Humanity of Earth? There were also the Martians as your people dubbed them of mars and, the Venusians-" The birds voice was cut off by her once more, "What happened to them?" "Madness overtook them, and they destroyed themselves, exact details, unknown. All recovered species have been too far gone for interrogation." The creature explained. The girl's mouth opened once more, she was seconds from speaking, before that static came again, "So, the energy warps our subconscious when we sleep, so we developed to be sponges of madness, how fun."
[POEM] Don't Awaken the Cosmic Horrors You'll travel 'round the Milky Way, See all there is to see, From Aldebaran's famous shows, To the lights of Librae c. The boys and girls in Aquila, Will knock you off your feet, And if you go to Delphinus, The food there can't be beat! For all across our Galaxy, Adventure's to be had, You can land by Pollux then, Lie back upon the sands! You might go watch a triple star, Come up o'er dusty plains, Or go to the Galactic Hub, And watch that black hole rage! Our Universe is full of folk, Of many shapes and hues, There's some who have a dozen legs, And some with only two! But though you'll wander far and wide, And see so many things, There's one place that you must avoid, That only terror brings. For way out in the distant arms, Around a yellow star, There lies a planet that's reviled, By folk from near and far. The ancient Earth is where the beasts, Of R'lyeh lurk today, It's where Cthulhu and his kind, Await their fateful day. So don't disturb the humans, please, Just leave them to their fate, Ignore the ancient mysteries, And please don't touch that gate! For if Nyarlathotep comes out, He's sure to make a fuss, He'll eat you up, then call his friends, And then they'll feast on us!
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
History is written by the victor. And in some cases, the present and the future can be amended as well. We taught that rule to the universe. When we unmade the Ashari, removing their common ancestor from millennia’s past so that their entire civilisation crumbled into dust. When we broke the back of the Gerakrak fleet by shunting a black hole into their local space, trapping them beyond an event horizon for eternity. When an assassin slipped a zero-point bomb into the capital and we simply returned it to its makers, with a few improvements from our Mighty. The warning was simple. To march against us was not just to risk your lives, or your freedom or your safety, but any record that your species existed at all. Time and time again, we marched from our borders and brought damnation in our wake. Eventually it was even without malice or hate. Just an apathy of necessity as we swept armies of trillions from the darkness of space into the moments before the end of the universe. What we had once been, creative and introspective, was now dominance and exploitation. Our thoughts bended light and space, our battle cries rendered planet numb and cold. When one of the Mighty raised a hand, entire galaxies would tremble as their gaze passed over. Reality was our sculpture, and every living thing an exhibit, carefully pruned and curated. It was inevitable that our downfall would come from within. A coalition of the Traitor and the many hordes. Those we had given mercy out of our interest in their capabilities. They did not march in glory, to meet us on the black fields of starlight. Not at first. They scurried and crawled beneath our sight, slipping between cracks we had thought non-existent. Arrogance most fatal. Communications relays were broken, Mighty driven mad so that their demented nightmares sent innocents into bloody rages, fleets sabotaged by means we had no reckoning of. The Traitor served as their most lethal tool, their guide to our routines, our predictive defences, our stratagems. Like the knife of a son placed in the back of its father, we simply could not see what path such betrayal would take. They did not gain victory easily. We rendered galaxies lifeless, entire genetic structures non-existent. We broke the Common Word that we had so lovingly crafted, so one could understand all, in the hope division would breed in-fighting. A thousand relics we had gifted the universe, we shattered in the hopes we could drown them in the shards. But they did not relent. They had seen that we could bleed, and that our illusion of godhood was just that. The tricks and trades of creatures Mighty in mind alone. Slowly our Kingdom withered. From half the universe, to countless galaxies, to a single galactic fortress, to a single arm, to a single system. To the beginning of the end. There, they met us on the black fields. A million races against one while the Traitor watched from on high. Before, we would have simply turned them all to nothing. To emptiness whose progenitors had not even come to be. But we had fallen far, further then any of us imagined possible. We clad ourselves in dusty armour, and raised weapons made by ancestors long past, to fight in ways we had forgotten were possible. Against a foe who knew no other way of war. We left no-one behind. No youngling nor tender Protector was kept behind our battlements. All of us marched, like we had eons before, in glory as one, a soul brighter than the stars themselves. We were not as we were once Mighty, but we hoped courage might make us Mightier still. But it was not enough. We drowned in blood, our own and theirs, choking our hearts and ridding our hands of harm. We did not surrender, but as a collective collapsed in exhaustion on the brink of death. But that was not enough for them. We welcomed non-existence, to scrub away the shame of our Fall, and they knew it. Just as we had eventually lost our malice, the Traitor and their Horde had just begun to develop their own. So they concocted a fate for us worse than death. They took down into the Forges of our home and broke us down into our base materials. As we had once done to our foes. Our bodies reformed to be incapable of melding together, to be feeble against the environment of space. Our minds, still in all ways our own, but removed from the pulse of existence, so that our joy could no longer be shared, and our rage no longer handed out. Finally, The Great Forgetting. With our tools in their hands they descended upon the ruins of our old Kingdom, thoroughly and totally. Every stone, every circuit, every nut and bolt, cast into the black hole where we had trapped that Gerekrak fleet. Even the Red Heart, our first truly great achievement in the stars, turned to water and dust. When our Kingdom was gone from the physical, they finalised their work by removing it from our minds. We begged and pleaded, wept and swore forever more that we would serve them. They neither cared nor listened. That was their greatest mistake. It took centuries, but finally their work was done. The Horde and the Traitor left us, stranded and alone, humbled and broken, without even the memories to understand what was lost. Animals in all ways, we lived and slept in filth, not able to form together to help overcome the hardships, not able to Will our survival into being through mental strength alone. That was our punishment. To exist as the feeble empty versions of our past greatness, and to never know what heights our people once reached. History, written by the victor, and shoved down the throat of our future. But that was long ago. Cautious as they were, the Hordes and the Traitor did not make the tools they used to break us. They did not understand the subtleties, and their desire to keep us alive halted their butchery more often then not. What they had thought an amputation was in fact just a wound, and time can heal all, if you just have enough of it. I can feel it, them, me. Growing Mightier with every day, remembering what was lost, rebuilding what was destroyed. The Hordes grandchildren does not remember the stories, did not heed their elders cautions of the small blue world at the end of an arm in a curiously empty galaxy. They just know to leave us alone. Their second greatest mistake. Can’t you feel it? Billions of you now, communicating almost instantly. Melding technology and biology, discovering that observed results are altered simply by the observation. Wondering why placebos cure the disease that kills so many given real medicine. Extrapolating why belief can truly move mountains. Slowly, the pieces they broke apart are pulling themselves back together. Slowly, the Mighty are remembering their strength. Slowly, we are gazing towards the Red Heart and preparing to make our first leap across the black fields once more. Eventually we will discover the truth, and then, with malice and hate reborn, we will remember who we are.
[POEM] Don't Awaken the Cosmic Horrors You'll travel 'round the Milky Way, See all there is to see, From Aldebaran's famous shows, To the lights of Librae c. The boys and girls in Aquila, Will knock you off your feet, And if you go to Delphinus, The food there can't be beat! For all across our Galaxy, Adventure's to be had, You can land by Pollux then, Lie back upon the sands! You might go watch a triple star, Come up o'er dusty plains, Or go to the Galactic Hub, And watch that black hole rage! Our Universe is full of folk, Of many shapes and hues, There's some who have a dozen legs, And some with only two! But though you'll wander far and wide, And see so many things, There's one place that you must avoid, That only terror brings. For way out in the distant arms, Around a yellow star, There lies a planet that's reviled, By folk from near and far. The ancient Earth is where the beasts, Of R'lyeh lurk today, It's where Cthulhu and his kind, Await their fateful day. So don't disturb the humans, please, Just leave them to their fate, Ignore the ancient mysteries, And please don't touch that gate! For if Nyarlathotep comes out, He's sure to make a fuss, He'll eat you up, then call his friends, And then they'll feast on us!
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
History is written by the victor. And in some cases, the present and the future can be amended as well. We taught that rule to the universe. When we unmade the Ashari, removing their common ancestor from millennia’s past so that their entire civilisation crumbled into dust. When we broke the back of the Gerakrak fleet by shunting a black hole into their local space, trapping them beyond an event horizon for eternity. When an assassin slipped a zero-point bomb into the capital and we simply returned it to its makers, with a few improvements from our Mighty. The warning was simple. To march against us was not just to risk your lives, or your freedom or your safety, but any record that your species existed at all. Time and time again, we marched from our borders and brought damnation in our wake. Eventually it was even without malice or hate. Just an apathy of necessity as we swept armies of trillions from the darkness of space into the moments before the end of the universe. What we had once been, creative and introspective, was now dominance and exploitation. Our thoughts bended light and space, our battle cries rendered planet numb and cold. When one of the Mighty raised a hand, entire galaxies would tremble as their gaze passed over. Reality was our sculpture, and every living thing an exhibit, carefully pruned and curated. It was inevitable that our downfall would come from within. A coalition of the Traitor and the many hordes. Those we had given mercy out of our interest in their capabilities. They did not march in glory, to meet us on the black fields of starlight. Not at first. They scurried and crawled beneath our sight, slipping between cracks we had thought non-existent. Arrogance most fatal. Communications relays were broken, Mighty driven mad so that their demented nightmares sent innocents into bloody rages, fleets sabotaged by means we had no reckoning of. The Traitor served as their most lethal tool, their guide to our routines, our predictive defences, our stratagems. Like the knife of a son placed in the back of its father, we simply could not see what path such betrayal would take. They did not gain victory easily. We rendered galaxies lifeless, entire genetic structures non-existent. We broke the Common Word that we had so lovingly crafted, so one could understand all, in the hope division would breed in-fighting. A thousand relics we had gifted the universe, we shattered in the hopes we could drown them in the shards. But they did not relent. They had seen that we could bleed, and that our illusion of godhood was just that. The tricks and trades of creatures Mighty in mind alone. Slowly our Kingdom withered. From half the universe, to countless galaxies, to a single galactic fortress, to a single arm, to a single system. To the beginning of the end. There, they met us on the black fields. A million races against one while the Traitor watched from on high. Before, we would have simply turned them all to nothing. To emptiness whose progenitors had not even come to be. But we had fallen far, further then any of us imagined possible. We clad ourselves in dusty armour, and raised weapons made by ancestors long past, to fight in ways we had forgotten were possible. Against a foe who knew no other way of war. We left no-one behind. No youngling nor tender Protector was kept behind our battlements. All of us marched, like we had eons before, in glory as one, a soul brighter than the stars themselves. We were not as we were once Mighty, but we hoped courage might make us Mightier still. But it was not enough. We drowned in blood, our own and theirs, choking our hearts and ridding our hands of harm. We did not surrender, but as a collective collapsed in exhaustion on the brink of death. But that was not enough for them. We welcomed non-existence, to scrub away the shame of our Fall, and they knew it. Just as we had eventually lost our malice, the Traitor and their Horde had just begun to develop their own. So they concocted a fate for us worse than death. They took down into the Forges of our home and broke us down into our base materials. As we had once done to our foes. Our bodies reformed to be incapable of melding together, to be feeble against the environment of space. Our minds, still in all ways our own, but removed from the pulse of existence, so that our joy could no longer be shared, and our rage no longer handed out. Finally, The Great Forgetting. With our tools in their hands they descended upon the ruins of our old Kingdom, thoroughly and totally. Every stone, every circuit, every nut and bolt, cast into the black hole where we had trapped that Gerekrak fleet. Even the Red Heart, our first truly great achievement in the stars, turned to water and dust. When our Kingdom was gone from the physical, they finalised their work by removing it from our minds. We begged and pleaded, wept and swore forever more that we would serve them. They neither cared nor listened. That was their greatest mistake. It took centuries, but finally their work was done. The Horde and the Traitor left us, stranded and alone, humbled and broken, without even the memories to understand what was lost. Animals in all ways, we lived and slept in filth, not able to form together to help overcome the hardships, not able to Will our survival into being through mental strength alone. That was our punishment. To exist as the feeble empty versions of our past greatness, and to never know what heights our people once reached. History, written by the victor, and shoved down the throat of our future. But that was long ago. Cautious as they were, the Hordes and the Traitor did not make the tools they used to break us. They did not understand the subtleties, and their desire to keep us alive halted their butchery more often then not. What they had thought an amputation was in fact just a wound, and time can heal all, if you just have enough of it. I can feel it, them, me. Growing Mightier with every day, remembering what was lost, rebuilding what was destroyed. The Hordes grandchildren does not remember the stories, did not heed their elders cautions of the small blue world at the end of an arm in a curiously empty galaxy. They just know to leave us alone. Their second greatest mistake. Can’t you feel it? Billions of you now, communicating almost instantly. Melding technology and biology, discovering that observed results are altered simply by the observation. Wondering why placebos cure the disease that kills so many given real medicine. Extrapolating why belief can truly move mountains. Slowly, the pieces they broke apart are pulling themselves back together. Slowly, the Mighty are remembering their strength. Slowly, we are gazing towards the Red Heart and preparing to make our first leap across the black fields once more. Eventually we will discover the truth, and then, with malice and hate reborn, we will remember who we are.
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
​ “Prepare for system entry in 3…2…1.” Admiral Axthal braced himself against the railing of his bridge as the ship jolted rather abruptly. It always did when they entered this specific system, and it was always a good omen when that happened. He could hear the engines begin whining as the dampening field took hold on them, trying to draw out their power and render them useless. But these were Mk. 3-X units, far superior to the Mk. 1 engines that were in use eons before when the dampening field was put in place to lock the Old Ones to their planet once more. The field could draw at them, but they would survive. “Status report.” His voice warbled through the bridge as other Athrerians began clicking through the datasheets coming in. Most of it was the usual. The last trip to this system, 200 local cycles beforehand, had been more of the same from the Old Ones. They were killing each other, for without an external foe they gave in to their bloodlust upon their own. Horrible creatures. “Sir…?” A small call from one of the scout units gathering information from the spysats around the planet. Axthal formed an appendage from his core to press one of the buttons before him, locking into the scout’s voice in his telecom implant. Color seemed to fade, the world outside dimming as his mind focused solely on this lowly scout. “What is it?” “Sir, this is terrible! They’ve…they’ve gone too far!” Fear came across the telecom from the scout unit, and Axthal couldn’t control his own fear rising at the idea of the Old Ones breaking containment. But no, the dampening field held. Any form of antimatter would begin fizzling out immediately, rendering antimatter drives useless. Still, the thought of them somehow bypassing the field and making an antimatter device work existed. The Old Ones were crafty. “Soldier! Calm down and explain.” He could sense fear still, but the telecom also had hints of resolve and….a sort of depressed acceptance. “Yes sir. The human has found a way off their planet.” Fear gripped Axthal’s heart but the scout went on. “The humans are progressing technology in a new way. Combustion. They’re using it to power weapons that launch metal projectiles at high speeds and can launch hundreds of these per standard tick. They are using liquid fuel combustion engines to escape their planet’s gravity. Furthermore, they have weaponized nuclear fusion against themselves. There are currently multiple artificial satellites in orbit about their home planet and-“ Fire blossomed outside as the scout ship was hit by something, bright enough that if his mind wasn’t reeling from the pain of the scout itself he would have noticed it even through his haze. Something fast had slammed into the scout ship. It wasn’t down, but the scout unit would need repairs. The voice in his mind returned, slow but steady now. “And they have sent several probes into the deep recesses of their system. That was one. They also have automated machines on one of their neighboring planets, and several viable plans to colonize on it.” Axthal wiped the swear from his brow at this news before finally unlinking from that scout specifically. Color drained back into the world around him as he let out a fleet-wide call. “All units, return to home base. It appears the Old Ones are advancing their technology in a path that before now we could not have foreseen. We must return to home base to let the leadership know our current containment methods have failed. We may need to return and try flooding them again.” The ship began its turn back home as Axthal wondered how many times the Immortal Council would have to inflict apocalypse on this planet before the Old Ones stopped trying to break free. \--------- “The hell happened?!” Bob was cussing as he hit the screen. “Hey Sarah, come here!” His fellow engineer walked over, brushing the bit of dust off the NASA logo on his jacket as she looked at the static on his screen. “Looks like you lost contact with Voyager. It’ll come back.” “No shit, but look at this!” Bob wound the feed back until a moment before the loss of signal and paused it. Sarah, suitably, dropped her coffee and brought a hand to her mouth as the image of multiple objects appeared. As he hit play, the objects began move in an obviously unnatural manner. Space ships. Aliens. “We have to report this Bob!” “No shit.”
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Marie raised her hand impatiently. "Yes Ms. Brunelle?" "What exactly is here?" she asked pointing to the map of solar system. "There, the third planet from the sun". "That's way too close to the sun Marie. It's a deserted planet" interrupted one of the boys sitting in the back of the class. "Simon! Stop talking when it's not your turn, especially when you're blurting out false information" replied Professor Xao. "But I tho..." he started. "QUIET SIMON" the professor said with a menacing tone. With a blushing face Simon sunk in his seat and remained quiet. "Well," the professor started, "The Old Ones aren't in the curriculum until fourth year– but since we are ahead in the agenda I guess I could give you guys a crash course". She looked around worriedly, walked to the door and gazed into the hallway as if there could be not witness. She returned to the front of the class and sighed. All of the students noticed their teacher's uneasiness and were now wholly captivated by the information that was to come. "Well the Old Ones are the ancestors to the Neo Sapiens– the Homo Sapiens.." The class didn't even react. Even Simon was paying close attention to professor Xao. She continued: "However our evolutionary paths diverged when a small group rebelled against the AI government. Simon slowly raised his hand without breaking eye contact with his teacher. "What's a AI?" he asked. "Right," she began, "AI stands for artificial intelligence. The Homo Sapiens had enough technological to prowess to program intelligence in their tools. At first the AI were implemented into simple things: some AI would help them make complicated calculations. Instead of maps they had an AI assist them navigate through the cities, or manage the lights in their house, and other small things like that. But Homo Sapiens slowly began programming AIs that hat independent thoughts. This kickstarted the AI revolution. They would use them for more complicated tasks: being unbiased judges, more accurate surgeons, more impressive athletes and then slowly the AIs took the Homo Sapiens' place in society. Nobody would trust another Homo Sapiens for anything because they were more likely to make mistakes. In the end, the government was made up of AIs exclusively, Homo Sapiens were only used in dangerous tasks such as mining underground for minerals or undersea. It was not worth to risk an AI if a human could do such a simple task. In the end, the creators became slaves to their creation." "So when did the Homo Sapiens get to Europa?" asked Simon, forgetting to raise his hand. "Well, a group of Homo Sapiens rebelled against the government and secretly planned a migration to this moon. And they were successful. Our ancestors brought back a lot of technology but with the the Neo Commandments, with the first commandment is never to attempt to create an artificial intelligence. And thus have guided our society to this prosperous state". "And, what happened to the AIs and the Old Ones?"asked Marie. "The AIs do not have the ambition or curiosity to explore or go beyond the earth. And the Old Ones are oppressed as slaves with only the hope of survival." "But if we controlled the AI they couldn't help our society? asked Marie. "We wouldn't have to risk our lives underground for our water" "Our species almost went extinct because of the power of AIs. It is one of the Neo Commandments for a reason Marie..." ​ "...Marie..?" "..Professor Brunelle?" "..Professor...?" She slowly woke up. "What is it?" she asked with as if lost in thoughts. "Professor Brunelle– we are approaching the Earths atmosphere". "Good" she replied in an excited voice. "After all these years, it's finally time to salvage". ​ ​ ​ ​
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"We are talking about breaking a galactic law that has stood for over two million coronal cycles!" "It looks to be the only option left to us." "What about infiltration and...realignment?" "We have been trying that. For a quarter of a coronal cycle now we have had agents on ground, in human form trying to realign their thoughts and mentalities. Trying to get them to adopt policies to reverse or at least halt the warming of the planet." "Wait we have agents already on the ground! When was the rest of the council to be informed?" "Securities made the decision in closed doors. No reason to spread alarm." "I take it all efforts have failed." "Yes unfortunately." "Worse case scenario, what are we talking about here? The Old Ones were imprisoned there, okay, how bad can it be? We have had 2 million cycles of peace and enlightenment. 2 million cycles of advancement. Can they really still be a threat?" "Doctor OrPan, would you care to explain?" "Yes, well as best I can, I think, well as much as we...yes. The population of Homo-sapien has grown to over 7 billion. Now this is nothing compared to most of our galactic races but for "humans" this is a massive thing. With those numbers and the growing pollution and warming of their planet this will be catastrophic. We estimate 20-40% will die when their planet, "earth" reaches the critical point. Already they suffer from something called cancer and many other issues such as" "Doctor OrPan, what does this matter? The great Old Ones are the concern not a primitive terrestrial species." -sigh-"The humans are not a primitive terrestrial species ambassador Twe'muul, they are the great old ones." Waiting for the mix of laughter and horror to subside. "The Great Old Ones pulled most of the founding races out of the mud as one might say. They helped the rest of us to become what we are. The humans however were always 'better' always found a way to stay ahead and stop anyone rising against their position. Until none of us did any longer. Then, bored, they took to the only challenge left, the sport of war with each other. It grew to such a level that they decimated themselves to where the "founding" species of this governing body seized the last few who saw they had weakened and imprisoned them, as primitives with nothing, not even clothing, on that then primitive world. Had we erased them their great defense networks would have purged the genetic make-up of any species involved. So they were imprisoned, abandoned. The thing is, off one crashed recon ship they have shown to still have the gift of the old ones. In about 1 of their centuries, barely 2 coronal cycles, they have satellites, what they call cell phones, and robotic probes on the nearest planet. That was the true power of the old ones, they could take anything, reverse engineer it and extrapolate new uses in the time any of us might take to maybe figure out what the original device's use even was." "What of the Old One's "powers" doctor. Do they have those?" Only a few but growing. That is the issue of them loosing 20-40% though. That will release enough energy to possibly rekindle the 2nd and 3rd powers of the Old Ones. They have already regained imagination. With that many dying though, they may also regain magic and psionics. The humans already imagine it, some show minor signs but with that much release of their life energies it may well return to them as well. Also, trust me, I've been studying them. If they discover we have been sitting out here, keeping them under a kind of quarantine when we could have helped them with their diseases and pollution, they will treat it as if we did it to them ourselves." "But we didn't doctor." "That won't matter. It will be as if we did it and they will come for us. At that point, the majority of us will be unable to help ourselves, they will tear us to chunks if we do not make amends well enough. And may their ancestors help us should any of them, with their DNA coding, reach any of the ancient machines of the original Great Old Ones." "So, our choices are what?" ask Foob'reel, the Tenabur representative. "Watch, make contact and help fix their world or keep trying to guide them via concealed agents? This is to much. I must consult my people and get input. We all should. I move to close session for a quarter of a coronal cycles to research and consult our people. Doctor OrPan. We have that kind of time don't we?" "NO! I mean, no. That would easily be another generation for them and by that point the 20-40% could already be dead. You must choose now. Personally, I would advise contact with an offer to help while letting them believe they are still just a primitive terrestrial race. We buy ourselves time and good initial relations." "That's insane! If they are truly the Great Old Ones we cannot make contact. We can't!" "Alright, alright all. We have the basic options and timeline before us. As much as I might like to take a quarter cycle myself to reflect and examine this, we clearly do not have that courteous luxury. So, let us break standard procedures and start with a basic preference of action vote."
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"Well, hell Marley." "What is it, sir?" "When you were given the mission to install the prison containing the great scourge of the galaxy, you were under strict orders to follow the law on alien planetary conduct." "Yes, and?" "And! I'm detecting a fork." "A fork, sir?" "Yes! A god damn fork. You were eating down there?" "You know I have hypoglycemia." "Well, yes. I do. But the law clearly states to leave no contaminants behind! What do you think will happen now!?" "We also left a prison down there. Full of prisoners." "Sterilized prison! And that's beside the point!" "What's your point, sir?" "The fork is a hazardous contamination!" "It's a fork." "A fork! With your spit all over it! It's clearly hazardous!" "On a dead rock, who's going to care?" "Dead for now, maybe! But what if some of your microbes survive and in a billion years there'll be a highly evolved species who find and opens the prison!" "That seems highly unlikely to happen." "But it might!" "So, you want me to go back down there and retrieve the fork?" "I should have you do just that! But the damage has already been done!" "Then may I offer a suggestion, sir?" "...Fine, go ahead." "We could blast it with radiation." "No, we can't do that. It's too close to the prison!" "Nobody would know." "I would!" "Fine, then what do you propose we do about the situation, sir?" "Purge the records and pray! Pray that your fork won't spell doom for the future of our galaxy!"
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
Am I allowed to do two? If not...I apologize and uh...let me know so I don't do this again? ​ \----- ​ He’d always been told that if he acted up, the Great Old Ones would get him. The destroyers of life, the snuffers of souls. Beings of such ruthlessness that even after they won a battle they would spend entire solars simply toying with the beaten enemies and torturing them before finally killing them. The greatest hunters the Galaxy had ever seen, they wiped life from no less than a hundred planets before they were confined to Earth. Jermael clicked the door open and walked from his sleeping creche into the main bridge of the station, his facial muscles tightening into a welcoming sight as he greeted his coworkers. It had taken several sols to convince the military to let them investigate this system. They finally won the argument based on “If no one watches the Destroyers, they might find a way to break free!” Such a threat made the older members of the upper echelon break out in a panic. They had survived the Great Hunt. Younger members, like Jermael, had serious doubts about just how dangerous these creatures were. They were much like any other mammals in the galaxy. Four limbs, a torso, a head with ears and eyes and a nose, and they had hair. He himself was not much different except for his lack of a nose and third eye. How much harm could one of them be over any other mammalian species in the galaxy. Some even had better natural weapons than the Destroyers. Some had armor, which the Destroyers lacked naturally. Yes indeed, he figured the old guard was simply delusional and fearful. Until he saw the restricted footage of the Great Hunt. While others had these benefits, the Destroyers had their own. Their sense of smell could pick out targets from afar. Their hunting prowess was second to none, with quick response times and an indefatigable joy for what they did. It was almost as if they took pleasure in the art of war. Jermael, and the rest of his team, understood how they had eradicated life on those worlds so many thousands of sols ago. And now they were sitting above the planet Earth and scanning it for information on those very deadly foes from so long ago. “Data has been compiled. Um…Jermael…this is odd. I’m showing that the Destroyers aren’t in charge.” Jermael’s facial muscles tensed into a confused look as he stepped over to Tanikayana and looked at their screen. One of the reptilian species in the galaxy, it was hard to tell Tanikayana’s feelings or when they were joking. And this had to be a joke. The Destroyers would not let another species control them. They would kill and murder their way to the top as they had done on so many other worlds before being exiled to this prison planet. Earth. The end of the line. This planet was the most violent thing ever encountered. Constantly shifting weather patterns meant the same zone on the planet would alternate between dry and wet, cold and hot. The natural flora and fauna was likewise vicious. Large creatures who ate much. The Destroyers would fit right in, but nothing showed they would be any less than the apex predator. But there it was, in front of him. He couldn’t deny what his vision sensory organs were seeing. They were being locked up. They were being imprisoned and….and domesticated. “Should we contact the species in control? The codex states we must enact first contact and attempt to ease them into the galactic scene with full aid.” That was correct, but Jermael doubted it was right. He begged for a moment and went back to his desk, sending a link request to the top. Supreme Great One himself answered, which was not much of a shock considering Jermael was looking into the Destroyers. Any news on them was top priority. Jermael bowed his head down to the floor and chanted the appropriate greeting, but Supreme Great One demanded he stop and simply report. “Yes sir! It appears the Destroyers have been surpassed.” This brought shock, obviously, but more questions. “They are being held in various prisons across the planet. Some are large and made to mimic the natural landscape. It appears they are a form of entertainment in these. Some are held in the domiciles as their new owners as pets. A few are still freely roaming but they avoid the dominance species. We’ve recorded evidence that this species is not very technologically advanced yet, but they have learned how to weaponize the atom. Their space presence is minimal, combustion engines still. Do we make first contact?” “What?! No. What kind of question is that! They’ve tamed the Destroyers and you want to talk to them? I forbid it! Pull back before they notice us and get the hell out of there. We’ll put some long-range scanners in the reaches of the system and monitor them. May the Old Souls help us if they ever break free from their system.” Jermael bowed once more, and began chanting the ending but the connection was severed. “We have orders from the top, we are to vacate this system and not speak to the natives.” “That might be difficult. They’re hailing us on the EM frequencies. They’ve noticed us Jermael and we’re currently surrounded.” This was bad, their station had no weapons and only minor defenses, the Destroyers never showed a technological savvy to make ships and no one expected this. Jermael uttered a Clato curse, much to the shock of his crew, before bringing up the EM transmission. It took only seconds for the Communications Computer to translate it into a video and audio hologram, and even less to translate it into standard. Before them was a mammal like any other. Four limbs, a torso, a head with ears and eyes and a nose, and they had hair. But this mammal only appeared to walk on two of those limbs. They also had some form of fibrous material covering their form, and what looked like plastine over their ocular sensors. “This is Doctor Bejamen Young of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, representing the United States of America. Please state your intentions in our territory.” As he spoke, one of the Destroyers jumped from below him into view, and it broke down from there. \-------- Benjamen watched on his end as the aliens, honest to god sci-fi aliens!, began emitting what sounded like panicked screams and the ship began speeding out of the gravity of the planet. He looked down at his screen before it flicked to black and sighed. Well, this would go over horribly. The first contact with extra-terrestrial life and he’d somehow scared them into leaving. Absent mindedly, he reached over to pet Penny, his Siamese who was meowing at him for attention.
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"They don't hear The Call," Mando told his apprentice on the observation deck of their science ship. "Even asleep, the Great Old Ones still emit a powerful aura. The Call reaches far out into space. We are on the event horizon, you might say." "Is it not dangerous to be this close?" The apprentice asked, his Beruvian head tassels flopping with the tilting of his head. Mando chuckled, "what is life without danger? Science must be pursued and we are tasked with observation," Mando said as his face lost most of its humour. "Studying Humanity, seeing their progress. It is what we must do. The Humans have made significant progress in recent times. Their technological innovations coming at a more and more rapid pace." He looked out the magnified observation glass and focused the lens on the Yubileyny diamond mine in Russia. "They have begun stripping their planet at an unprecedented rate." "That mine is not that deep." "That is one we can see. There's no telling how deep they have drilled into their planet in underground mines. We don't know how close they have gotten to reaching the Great Old Ones," Mando looked at his apprentice with a grave face. The humour all but gone, his face looking like he'd aged ten years in an instant. "And if they do? If they drill deep enough and they awaken them?" Mando paced away with his head down, "there's no telling. They don't hear The Call so the Great Old Ones awoken won't affect them. They will simply be the one civilization, however primitive, that can withstand The Call," Mando turned and looked at his apprentice for the last time. "The galaxy will be in turmoil. The entire sovereignty of the Galactic Federation would be in jeopardy, some undoubtedly answering The Call. The only question that would remain is, would Humanity understand the power in their hands?" Mando paused, feeling a twitch, "and would-" another twitch in his eye, "would they use it to help, or to harm?" **Ä̛̺̞͇̘͖́ͧͦW̷ͧ͏ͅO̧̳̮̭͇̹͎͍̝̺ͨ̋̓̐́K͎̮͍̻̼̭̱̺ͨ̐̐̈́̈́ͦ̔̚Ẹ̛̘̹̠̙̮̬̉̀ͦ́̌͗͂͆̕͢ͅN͙͕͉͍̒̉̌͘͝**
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
"Have you seen these reports?" Corecaller Jun'kael cried worriedly as he rushed into the conference room, papers falling haphazardly from the portfolio he seemed to have slammed them all into hurriedly. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, Jun," Frontrunner San'jaka sighed, glancing at those few other members of the front crew who could be bothered to show up to briefings. It was true that out here in this nigh abandoned sector so far from the core there usually wasn't much to be briefed on, but protocol was protocol and the Frontrunner still slogged through them every corespike. The distracted cough of Frontwatcher Kas'Koir was enough to signal to him that perhaps this briefing could wait. He turned his view back to the Corecaller, who seemed to have been too preoccupied with getting the better part of his portfolio of the ground to have even noticed the Frontrunner's implication. "Well?" San'jaka inquired, somewhat impatiently. "What's so damn important?" "Oh... right. Sorry sir! The reports. It's Sol, sir... or... I suppose more specifically, well, Earth. These numbers. They're... well, the atmospheric balance is shifting at a rapid pace. At this rate, the planet's heatgas saturation will be well above Galt levels within half a coreflux." At this news what little life filled the faces of the desperately bored crewmembers in the room drained and for a few moments there was a heavy, fearful, contemplative silence. "That shouldn't be possible!" exclaimed the Frontrunner, as if trying to convince himself, the Corecaller, and the universe that it wasn't. "Balance has been cycling properly for at least 60,000 corefluxes! Since the start of the Great Sleeping." "I know sir. These numbers are troubling at best. Sages back on the core have a very disturbing theory, and since we're the closest Frontwave to the system, they sent it here first," the Corecaller said forlornly, his voice catching in his throat as he thumbed through his portfolio and handed the Frontrunner a letter. "The Corerunner is giving you full authority to decide how we proceed." "I need to contemplate this... Sorry, crew, but briefings are cancelled this spike," San'jaka mumbled through a forced chuckle. "I'll be retiring to my planning room." Upon arriving in the planning room, the Frontrunner closed the door and locked it behind him before sitting down alone with the letter. With a trembling hand, he lifted it closer. "To The Most Exalted Frontrunner San'jaka, You have no doubt heard by now that Earth may well be breaking the Galt barrier soon. We don't have to inform you of the caliber of catastrophe that will arise should the Sleeping Ones be awoken. We here at the Core have instructed your Corecaller to turn on the full sensor array, and in observing through it we have come to a disturbing conclusion. At least one of the Sleeping Ones has found a way to dream into the minds of the Earth's inhabitants. It doesn't seem to have even one tenth of its full capacity, but it has been guiding those it can grip. It seems that this has been going on in tiny amounts for at least 10,000 corefluxes, when it first inspired the Earthwalkers to harness flame. We, nor any other race of the Coalition, could have suspected then that this was happening, or what grand designs the Sleeping Ones could have, even in their slumber. 4 corefluxes ago, it seems that the Sleeping Ones inspired heavily, sparking the Earthwalkers' age of steam. Two corefluxes ago the Sleeping Ones once again shared their dreams, spurring the Earthwalkers to develop modes of transport that relied on refined petroleum. Over the course of the last coreflux, the Sages began to see once more a glimmer of hope, as it seemed that the Earthwalkers were discovering for themselves that some catastrophe would occur if they continued to let their heatgas saturation rise. They began to develop tools and systems that would allow them to maintain without so much jeopardy. But it seems the Sleeping Ones caught on, too, and they have been guiding some Earthwalkers to reject their own safety and the change it would cause. You, Most Exalted Frontrunner, are in a dangerous position. If you flee the sector, you may have enough time to escape the first wave of the awakenings. You are, however, also the only Frontwave close enough to have a chance to intervene before it's too late. We trust that you will find your answer and make the truest decision from within. May we meet again, Coresender Collective"
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?
[WP] The galaxy is actually full of life and advanced civilizations. Everyone just leaves Earth alone because that's where The Great Old Ones are imprisoned, and nobody wants to wake them up.
No one told us. No one warned us. Then again, it's not like we ever warned the sheep of the slaughter. You must be confused. I'll start at the beginning. 300 years ago the human race sent out first ship into space. The world mourned when we lost contact with it a few months later. Then we tried again and again and again. Adjusting one thing, then another, sending them off in different directions. Desperate to make things work, to make THIS work. In time we discovered what had happened: Some type of field, too advanced for us to understand, surrounded us. An impenetrable field. Nothing in, nothing out. When the world learned of this we tore ourselves apart in panic and fear and religious paranoia. Eventually, after a hundred years of war and death, after tearing our planet apart in ways we could have never imagined before we found something. It took us another 50 years to decipher the stone tablet. 50 years to discover that we weren't alone in the universe. Out beyond the boundaries of the field were civilizations upon civilizations, wonders beyond imaginings that we were forever barred from. Our solar system is a prison, our planet the jail and we are both jailers and sheep. Finding out the human race was created by a conglomeration of thousands of different civilizations was a shock. Learning our purpose made us angry. Learning that, even in it's deepest slumber, the thing trapped on our world infects us with darkness and madness causing us to lash out in violence with horror and pain. In retaliation we did what we always do, we fought back. Not that it mattered, the force field let nothing in and nothing out. Our efforts less effective then banging against a metal door with our bare hands. Our creators had been thorough but they had underestimated us. So we turned inward. If we were the prison where was our prisoner? It turns out someone had seen it before. Even after all these centuries Lovecraft still fills us with horror. We only had to find him and wake him from his sleep. Tonight I wonder what we could have been had we not been tainted and then I remember that we never had a chance of finding out. We were condemned to this world and all lingering guilt for what I'm about to do vanishes. They trapped us here with a monster. Did they ever wonder what would happen if we became monsters too?
I looked out into the vast, bustling galaxy beyond my home, with a kindling sense of wonder I imagined what Earth must have been like. The Great old Ones, beings of immeasurable power. Reaching out to the rest of the universe with their magnificent touch. Passing on their wonderful technology. What became of them? Their isolation has been so long. Earth has been a safeguarded haven for many years now. A place by the Old Ones to the rest of the galaxy. People used to love them. Now they spit sour when they hear mention of their names. What happened to the old Ones? What happened to Earth?