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Author Topic: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!  (Read 78392 times)

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Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #195 on: February 02, 2020, 03:23:40 PM »
Haha some of them literally just want to have it in a fridge somewhere as a 'Just in case'. They've developed enough of a mentality to deal with the ups and lows, and I imagine some have developed Deep Sleep tech that allows them to chill for a couple hundred years or millenia if they want, but Death Water is infinitely more valuable to them.

I think I'd like to work on two kinds of stories and see if I can maintain interest: 1. Underdog stories with mundane surroundings that still have entertaining moments and 2. Invulnerable supermen that still have interesting conflicts to deal with

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #196 on: February 03, 2020, 02:02:49 AM »
Day 8



Executioner Harry


In his down time, Harry loots the bodies in the Ravine.

It used to be a river back in the day, but ever since Coca Cola bought up all the water shares the only drop of fluid one ever got to see was bottled or in a bowl of ramen soup in Chinaquadrant.

Mostly the bodies have been stripped of anything useful, if they landed down there at all: There was an underground market for human meat. But sometimes he found something worth something. Small trinkets. Last messages. Eurobucks.

Today was not one of those days.

He got a job for the day though: Voluntary execution and Execution of Will.

Harry prayed over the corpses he'd relieved of toothpicks, credits and a toothbrush and got on his wagon.

He found the man sobbing in an alleyway, a blue flashing beacon withdrawn that meant he had 10 minutes of immunity from any bounty. They would also be the last 10 minutes of his life.

"You... You're the Executioner?"

"Yes." I nodded. I got off my wagon and approached him, offering him a skull bud.

He shook his head, "I don't deserve an easy way out."

I knew the type and nodded. "Your Will?"

"I just want you to tell them I'm sorry. My siblings. The address is here. " He handed me a datapad. I nodded. "It'll be done. Are you donating your body?"

He sobbed harder, "Yes. 20% for my siblings. The rest...." He shuddered.   

It was time to get to business. I withdrew my katana and activated the laser edge. It glowed green. Already a crowd was gathering. Some of them possibly the bounty hunters that had been coming after this mans' head, whatever his story was.

 "Kneel down."


When it was done I called in The Church and collected my payment. I'd have a good two weeks: It had been a high bounty.

After sending in his last will I was too tired to look for bodies, so I read my poems and looked out at the neon billboards of Nirvana, this city, this universe.

Offline Suuper-san

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #197 on: February 04, 2020, 03:57:11 AM »
Wow these stories are great. Somewhat abstract but in the whole really neat and amazing that you can extrapolate a short story From just two words.
Do you come up with the print yourself or from a website? I could do with some myself for character design.
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Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #198 on: February 04, 2020, 04:18:20 AM »
Seventh Sanctum sama is THE go to site for character generation, but I'm trying to come up with the prompts myself so all of these have been from thinking up names myself.


Day 9

Space Plumber


He cocked his polyphasic shotgun. "It's me, Mario."

The eldritch creature screamed in its infinite voices and lunged at him. Mario pulled the trigger and it vanished in a puddle of mud. One shade of its existence almost gathered himself, but another shotgun blast ended its existence for good.

Arms stinging from the blast, Mario tapped his neck and contacted The Supervisor,

"It's done. The pipes are clean."

"Good work, Mario. We'll need you in Valhalla next. The Gods have had quite the banquet and some nasty Cosmic Bacteria are gaining sentience in their plumbing. Shouldn't be as tough as this one. But it's easy cash."

"Roger roger." Mario said made a hand signal. A pipe appeared mid air. A pipe that stretched to infinity. He hopped into it and winked out of existence, on his way to deal with more plumbing issues across the Universe.

Offline Echo_River

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #199 on: February 04, 2020, 09:20:53 PM »
That was a fun one to read! I just love that thought of having to fight creatures in the pipes. Even plumbing is necessary for Gods eh? XD
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Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #200 on: February 05, 2020, 03:55:42 AM »
Yeah I had way too much fun writing it too haha.


Day 9


The Hero Accord was a bit of a misnomer, since it was an agreement between Heroes and Villains. In fact, not even the top class heroes and villains, but the more street level operators whos bout occassionally became city threatening or land-threatening.

Tired of a wave of new super powered beings who murdered eachother indiscriminately, whether hero or villain, the older types and henchmen came together to make some basic ground rules about how fights were to play out.

For one, killing was only accepteable if someone pulled the trigger first, and it was not allowed to go further than that.

Henchmen were to only be given light energy blasts or well placed disabling blows. Those henchmen were obliged to stay down even if they were not truly taken out. In the case of fighting a super powered being they were not allowed to go for a cheap kill shot, less they provoke a massive backlash.

Captured heroes were to be given a fair chance to escape. If the villain was a mastermind at constructing death traps, the hero in question either had to have a chance to be saved or equally as intelligent and interested in escaping a death trap.

No energy blasts to the face.

No major attacks on Mondays.
 
No capes.


Offline Coryn

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #201 on: February 09, 2020, 03:10:18 PM »
I like it! It reminds me of the old un-written rule of 'spear shaking'. In those big midaevil battles the poor peasants who got pressed into service were always given spears because they're just long pointy sticks. It doesn't take much of any training to make you deadly. But obviously the poor French peasants realize the poor English peasants both equally don't have a say in the matter of their being there and just want to go home. The solution? Get right up against each other, stick your spear up in the air where it can't hurt nobody, and just clatter them against the enemy to make it look like you're fighting to your commander who's 500ft away and can't see you all the good cause it's 1300 and glasses are hard to come by in Europe. Nobody dies and everyone goes home. Perfect solution when the powers that be don't give two *censored*s what happens to you or what you want.

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Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #202 on: February 09, 2020, 05:21:16 PM »
Wait did that really exist? Hahaha oh man the things one can learn in history!

Also glad you liked it

I'll have to start up again coming Monday. Really tricky getting into the writing groove, but I shalt preservere

Offline Suuper-san

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #203 on: February 10, 2020, 02:23:15 AM »
That's the spirit! If you never give up you can never lose :)
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Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #204 on: February 10, 2020, 02:47:20 PM »
Haha indeed : )

Here we go



Day 1



Orange Car

I bought the Stevenson last year in an antique car yard sale. It was one of those antique solar powered cars they used to make in Africa back in the day, when solar energy was all that.

My girlfriend thought I was spending too much, but I liked to finally have something that belonged to me. I don't care how great our Neo-Communal living has worked out for us, I wanted something that belonged to me, dammit! Even if I could only drive it with a permit four hours a week down the only viable Highway.  I got some nasty looks from the cyclists and pedestrians, and realized that even those were words that were slowly dying out, along with eating barbeque or god forbid smoking a cigarette.

I drove the Stevenson in a fury of 50 Kilometres per hour, listening to some self made experimental music that most approximated the heavy metal rock bands of the past millenia. I knew that back in the day the cars roared with the power and fury of diesel engines, that the upholstry smelled like smoke and the beers kicked you so hard you woke up with hangovers, but those days are long gone.

I suppose I know things are better now. I mean I'm not an idiot, I love my simple life. I am genuinely happy. But buying this orange car feels like one small harmless peace of rebellion, some oasis I get to enjoy even after The Advent.

"Warning" His internal AI informed him, "Your permit expires in three minutes. Please slow down your vehicle and park it at the designeted garage, brother."

The calming music, the low level colour filters on his augmented eyes and phantom sensations of relaxed muscles almost gave him no choice in the matter, but he wasn't really looking to rebel or anything. He was fine. His four hours were up: He'd return to his family to his domicle to do more work.

He parked his car and walked his way back home, smelling the fresh air.

In the blue sky, the occassional glint of grav ships floated.

In the blue sky, the shattered moon  - so small in retrospect to the vast sky - painted an awing subdued picture.




Synposis: So I suddenly saw a sort of functioning Utopia where after a catastrophic technological failure the moon gets destroyed humanity goes NOPE NOPE NOPE and creates a utopia that is a mix between Big Brother, a mind-control, a hodge-podge communistic/communalistic and humanitarian based society that actually... Works? Fossil fuels are extinct in favour of some super pure new energy source. Heavy metal and smoking are dead and nobody eats meat anymore. Everyone owns what everyone makes, and yet success still exists. Leaders exist, and yet everyone feels like a particapatory voter.

I'd love to write something like this. I'd make it as boring and long winded as possible, with scenes from different people living in this too-good-to be true world with the occassional drop of something suuuper fishy e.g a persons' memory suddenly being erased when they say a swear word or someone attempting to commit a crime only to realize he has a mental computer that lets him fantasize about such things but whatever he tries, it mind controls him and switches out his harmful actions for good. The moon being destroyed will just be mentioned but never explained and at the end of the book you'll wonder why you wasted your time hahahaha.

Damn I'd love to watch an anime like this.

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #205 on: February 11, 2020, 04:34:09 AM »
Day 2

Red Ink


"Foolish. Foolish!" Arnold Bent roared as he slashed his red pen across the students' paper. It ripped. Others flew in the air. Wobbled their way to the ground. Settled with the other odd papers.

Bent looked at the function on the next page. One point. One damn point!

If his grade A student could make a mistake after having a perfect unsullied record, then everyone could! He'd start with himself: For failing to foster the genius of the century, one cross on his palm! Bent scratched an X with a flourish on the top of his left arm. It stung. Good.

He looked at his office. It was clean, but the lighting was terrible. No wonder he wore glasses! X! He jumped on his table, jumped over to one wall - smashed it, barely saved his spectacles by stopping his momentum with his left forearm - wrote an X on it.

Opened the door, ran through the hallway past his secretary.

"Foolish!" He screamed.

The graffitti on his students' locker was lazy. X!

The Janitor missed a spot. X on his shirt! The janitor screamed, Bent didn't care, he went running.

The school trophy set hadn't been updated all season. X for the teams! His ballpoint pen broke. He needed better materials. Sharpies would work.


---

Hours later. Felt like days now, walking the street.

"Foolish!" A man hadn't helped his date across the street. X on his forehead.

"Foolish!" A kid with a skateboard wasn't punk enough. Didn't swagger enough. What was the point of being a rebellious youth when you were still scared? X on his skateboard!

X for the dirty walls!

X for the expensive parking meters! Thieves!

X for that terrible sense of fashion! Who wears socks with sandals?!


The police caught up to him. He drew his sharpie like a sword - like a wand- and got tazed in his gut.

"F-fffff" He couldn't speak. The convulsions rocked his body.


Foolish they all were.

They should've gone for the balls.





Synopsis: A grade A student and a very competent teacher were the talk of the district. For the last two years the student got well deserved perfect marks. Teacher felt super proud and got driven mad when the student made one mistake on his last paper.

That's the story that came to mind with the prompt haha. I suspect he'd get tackled much earlier than what happened in the story though

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #206 on: February 12, 2020, 03:23:00 PM »
Day 3

Old Cat


It sat with its tails between its legs these days. Old cat, fat cat, sitting on a fence. I couldn't take her home because Mom hated cats, and by the time I was in highschool it was too used to being a stray to be domesticated. He always came for the bowl of milk I set out for him though.
 
Mary-sama I called her. She was my guardian angel. When I really wanted to have luck that day I would set the milk, pray over the bowl and walk away. If she approached for a scritch behind the ears I knew my day would be good. If not then well... Better luck next time.

Mary-sama was the quietest, most peaceful cat I'd seen. Even when she wanted to be left alone she gently ducked my attempts, extracted herself from hugs and walked away. She never complained. And all the seven years I walked to school she just sat there, and watched me.

She got old, very old. I was about to finish highschool when I knew she was ready to die. She barely approached my milk bow anymore. It was sad, but I knew it was bound to happen. On the day I knew I would never see her again, I pet her on the head,

"Thank you for everything, Mary-sama." I said.

And I walked off to write my last exams, feeling ready for anything the world had to offer.

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #207 on: February 13, 2020, 01:57:44 AM »
Day 4

Alien Moon


"Nobody's been here for quite a while." Executive Sermak said, walking the surface of the moon with his students. They were doing the Earth tour again, and the moon was always a good start. It was the nicer part of the tour.

"Fourty Thousand Years, yes?" Said Abel, his best student.

Sermak nodded and hopped backwards calmly, smiling at him, "Yes, quite correct. All these megastructures here were constructed in the space of several millenia. Tell me, what two inventions in that time-span were said to be the most revolutionary?"

Alice raised her hand, hopping along. She was the most athletic. A true future sojourner. Between her and Abel Executive Sermak was confident in the future of the Centgalaxies.

"Yes, Alice?"

"The Matter Converter and um... The FTL drive?"

Sermak smiled apologetically, "Not quiiite, but you know what, yes, the FTL drive was important." He stopped for a moment and grabbed a handful of moon dust, "But the most important one is this." He made a hand symbol and a triangular glyph flared into existence, brilliant magnesium white. The whole class looked at it,

"The ability to use magic in its full form is only possible because of The Key. A purely scientific endeavour that led to the bridging between our world and that of the magical universe."

The students shuffled, uncomfortable. Alice and Abel were fascinated by the glyph, though. Sermak smiled and let it wink out of existence,

"I know how the others are about magic. Tell you what, let's just call it 'Mysterious M Energy' between the two of us." He winked, "But I am confident that this is the only way you'll grow up to be proper wardens of the galaxies. I'll show you why, when we stop by Earth."

There was a silence then. They looked out past the silver buildings of the moon base to the Earth that once-had-been. The cradle of Humanity. Every race knew about the famed humans. Their rise and fall were well documented.

Even now, their red planet still held its form. Its polluted diseased self still looked beautiful in the black of space.

Sermak looked at it solemnly. He didn't feel despair when he saw the Earth, he saw the perfect sacrifice, the perfect lesson to ensure at least a millenia more of peace. As much as everyone bashed humanity for being foolish, he knew that his race and the others in the Galaxy had every chance of being the same.

"Okay, let's continue our tour."



Synposis: Humanity has died and now one of the leading sentient races in the galaxy has Executives thats' sole mission is basically something like Star Trek, except they most definitely intervene in helping planets develop and even interfere in minute conflicts. They act as moral caretakers and guards of the universe.

Not happy with the ending of the excerpt, but I like Sermak, Abel and Alice. If I were a better writer I'd definitely try to craft more memoreable characters like those found in Enders' Game or similar stories haha

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #208 on: February 14, 2020, 03:55:36 AM »
Day 5

I came back from mining the asteroid really tired. I barely acknowledged Derrick before stepping into my cubicle and sealing myself into my sarcogaphus - or the shelf-beds, as the cooperates liked to market them.

with a soft hiss my bed slid back into its chamber and a soft white light came on. I had just barely enough room to grab what little things I had in there: A beaten up old book, my communication device that I used as an alarm and camera, and a 3d holograph of Michiko, my girlfriend.

I think I want to visit her now.

I double tapped my left temple on my implant and picked out the option I wished for: Laguna Deep. The VRMMO where I'd meet her.

She was sitting on the Fields Of Honour. It's a beautiful valley that seems to slope downward forever, until it eventually reaches a cliff. It's deceptively flat for some place that is actually above the clouds. Swords axes and various golems lie in the field, covered by grass and lillies.

A bloody battle was fought here once, apparently. It was during that time the two greatest guilds fought over a Player Killer and anhilated eachother. It was quite dramatic.

Michiko is in her black and red dress, I sit down next to her. Here, I am a red elf. I'm a bit shorter than her, and my eyes are yellow have no pupils. I smile at her, but she doesn't look at me. She just stares at the fields.

"How was work?" She asked.

"It was fine."

She looked at me and smiled, then leaned back into the grass, "Describe it to me."

I told her every detail of my boring day to day out in the dark of space. I described the flare of the ion cutter and the deceptive silence. The occasional glint of my fellow workers. I told her about the extra course material I was doing for distant learning, and that I was saving for another trip back to Earth for the holidays.

She took it all in, her virtual hair fluttering in the wind.

She listened to stories about real life. We talked like this surrounded by this beautiful world.

"I wish I could go out there with you." She said. It was a sad and true statement, but it was not meant to make me feel sorry. I just felt a longing I couldn't described. I touched her shoulder,

"Same." I felt I should've said something different, but it was enough.

We spent those next few moments in silence, before my system warned me that I had to log out to get enough sleep for my next shift.

I said my goodbyes and did so.



Coming back to reality is always tough. It feels like I've lost her. I always feel like getting in the next shuttle and going to Earth just to be with her.

... Even if that meant being separated by a sheet of glass.

She lost her body in an accident. Just when experimental brain-transplantation worked.

Michiko... Her only material form right now is essentially a brain in biofluid.

I can only meet her spirit in a virtual world.

Still, I wish I could be near her.

Offline legomaestro

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Re: WRITING SURVIVAL!!!
« Reply #209 on: February 15, 2020, 07:42:51 AM »
Almost at a week again.

Day 6

How to be The Protagonist


Trevor Howard decided his name would be Saito Kuro from then on forward, so he died his hair blue with a kit he bought on amazon, ordered some pants with chains and decided he'd sit at the back of the class.  The only problem was George sat there, and though he was a gentle soul, he was a giant of a teenager, the burly kind that you saw in those videos where when they finally get pissed off they suplex you on cement. Those kinds of gentle giants.

Trev- Saito decided he would ask nicely,

"Uh... Yeah... Sure?"

That went easier than expected. Saito was waiting for someone to complement him on his hair, but decided being ignored fit his persona of being a protagonist. He sat at the back of the class. Looked out the window pensievely. Remembered that the sun shone directly on this desk so the curtain was usually shut. He hated summer.

Saito looked up his paper list, the one that told him how to proceed. It was fitting that the next step was "???" followed by profit.

He sure wish the school was attacked by a mech or something. Then he could truly shine.

For now, he'd have to do with sitting at the back of the desk.


(The next day Trevor was called into the office, reprimanded for dying his hair and got into detention. At least he got to sit in the back there.)