lost-technology

[lost-technology]

part 12

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The manga is godly-good. There is a particularly dark tidbit that's only barely touched on in the new anime that's more detailed in the manga, that has to do with "why Knives flipped out" and "Vash reconciling himself to Humanity through Rem" that is absent from the first anime. Wolfwood gets a LOT of good development in the manga, and seems to be getting the same in Stampede. Zazie the Beast gets such an upgrade from BOTH versions, in my opinion.

Dependent Plant Trigun Zine interest form ‼️

Hello everyone! Proxima here! I’ve come to let the people know that I am in the process of planning a Trigun Zine. Here’s all the information!

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This is my first time making a Zine. To start this year off, I wanted to host a Dependent Plant Zine since no one has seemed to do this yet. I’m still doing research on what goes into a zine, I want to make this as easy as possible!

With that being said; I will of course need some help. Mods, planners, really people who do have experience in making zines I really need your help with this :,D (for the record; I do mind if some of you are adults, I’m absolutely fine with that)

I do not want this to be a profit or anything of that sort, I am not at all good with money or financial things, I’m WAY too scared of accidentally messing something up in that field 😭 I want this to be a simple and fun artist collab sort of deal, free of charge. Because let’s be honest- in this economy? I think NOT.

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NOW. With all of that out of the way, here’s some basic info :p

• This is of course a dependent plant zine! Meaning that it will only host artwork of the dependent plants from Trigun (with the exception of the twins making small appearances, but I really just want this to focus on the plants themselves.)

• SAFE FOR WORK. Since I am a minor, I do NOT want any NSFW artwork displayed in any form. Artistic Nudity is allowed, but absolutely ZERO sexual action / suggestive art.

• NO KV/INCEST OF ANY SORT.

• 15+ Zine! The clear / set age range is 15-20 years old

• Since Trigun has pretty heavy religious elements, those elements can of course be included in the artwork. I HIGHLY encourage artists to show their emotions through their artwork, religious beliefs and everything included. Whatever you need to get out of your system, please by all means do that through your pieces! Art can be used to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comforted. /ref

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Now, if this sounds all good to you, by all means please feel free to fill out the form below! While this is not the official sign up/admission form, this is just an interest form so we can better grasp what number of possible participants we will have for this zine.

This post will be updated occasionally, probably, maybe… who knows, we will see!

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lil redraw

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. (Full version to appear eventually on Ao3).

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

Part 1.Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

8. Blank Ticket

She was on a train again.  It was a familiar place.  She was in the exact same seat that she remembered being in before, and she was wearing the exact same dress and coat.  Rem registered the motion and sounds of the train.  She looked down at the ticket in her hand – an open destination, left blank, as it was before. It had been punched already.  She realized that she was dreaming.  Rem enjoyed lucid dreams.  They allowed her to do fun things that she was not able to do in real life.  She thought that perhaps she would write in a destination this time.  Where should she go?  The ocean?  A great forest? Perhaps an extinct landscape that she’d only read about in books and seen in old videos?  Maybe an undiscovered planet, the eventual destination of the spaceship that she knew her body was on in physical space?    She felt somewhat trapped by Fate, as she was unsuccessful in willing the walls of the train to melt for fun and experimental purposes.  She was going to put them back together again.  Rem was disappointed in her brain for just a moment.  She looked out the window.  There wasn’t a gray sky and driving rain this time.  No… what was outside her window was a sea of black, full of bright pinpoints and spinning galaxies.  It was space – and not quite like the space she had known outside the SEEDS ship windows, but an idealized space, the kind of space that was plastered all over old science fiction movie posters and in specific shots taken by deep space telescopes.  It was a space full of colors.   She felt the train slow down and listened to the slowing chug of the wheels and the high whine of it stopping.  Surprised, she looked up at the steward.  “Why are we stopping?” she asked.  “We are picking up new passengers,” the man said simply.  Rem woke up.

[lost-technology]

ヾ( ￣O￣)ツ

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. (Full version to appear eventually on Ao3).

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

Part 1.Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 8.

7. Joey

Joeseph was not an old man, but he was not a young man, either.  Compared to him, his crew – all of them – were young.  Most entrants to Project SEEDS were young, given the need and desire to see everyone alive by the time they’d found a new world.  Unlike the Settler Class, they were in and out of the freezer-units, meaning that they would age, biologically, in their waking-time.  Crews needed to be young in the hopes that they did not become old.  While “fraternization” was against the strictest of rules, none of the crews observed it.  This being a known factor before they’d even embarked, all crew members of all the main ships had undergone reversable sterilization as well as rigorous health screenings.  It was an open secret that tight-knit crews would likely see some of their members have flings.  It didn’t escape his notice that Steve liked to flirt with Mary, even if his pick-up lines could use a little work.  It also hadn’t escaped his notice that Mary and Rowan seemed to be close, and had been so from training.  It seemed like the only people on board who were unattached were himself and Rem.  Joseph had been married once, briefly.  It was a regrettable affair as it had happened when he was far too young.  He and his ex-wife had parted fairly amicably, in the end.  They’d been caught up in the school-sweethearts thing, fast and headlong when they were seventeen and it all fell apart by the time they were twenty-one, different interests, different humor, even different politics emerging as time went on.    He'd had a few conversations with Rem that trended toward the personal.  She seemed to be the most in need of the “coffee and a chat” that he’d offered everyone.  Her relationship-life had gone almost the opposite way from his.  She’d fallen in love young, but not quite as young as he had been.  She and her ex-lover had been on the same page about almost everything.  (They’d disagreed upon whether black licorice was a tasty candy or torture for the tongue and about the status of pineapple on pizza, but nothing worth breaking ties over).  Unlike him and Catherine, Rem and Alex had dated for a very long time before taking things to a serious level and getting engaged.  And then he died.  His death, was, in fact, the very reason she had signed onto SEEDS.  The plans she’d had for her life – with him - had been entirely upended.  She had no close family (although Dr. William Conrad, whom she’d worked with on her prior tour, was a distant cousin).  Rem had a lifelong admiration for explorers and a deep interest in Space.  She had worked very hard to obtain the scholarships she’d needed to get in, lacking any inherited wealth.  Her passion for the multitudinous subject-matter that she needed to know for the ship-navigation and in Plant-research was impressive.  She did side-studies in botany and genetics and had been excited upon awakening to see the flowers she had bred and entrusted to other crews doing well in the “Rec Room” (as they called the ship’s portable biosphere).  She was trying to create strains of Earth-flora that could survive extreme conditions.  “Captain Joey” had age as well as rank-issues to consider, but he would be lying to himself if he tried to convince himself that he was not becoming smitten with her. 

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[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. (Full version to appear eventually on Ao3).

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

Part 1.Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 7. Part 8.

6. Carboniferous

“Increase the feed, slowly, slowly…”  “I don’t wanna do this anymore!” the child’s voice said.  “You said I could go back to play with the toy-lady.”  “Just bear with us, Tesla.  We need to see if you are a Producer,” – a voice off-screen voice said, a man’s voice.  “This will not last long.”  “Aaah!  Please stop! It hurts!” The arm seized.  The wrist slammed against the strap.  The fisted hand opened, flattening into a full palm.  All along the arm sharp protuberances started sprouting from the skin.  They poured out and clattered to the floor.  Back in the present, Rowan yelped.  “What is that?  It’s coal!  It’s anthracite coal!”  “There’s more…unfortunately,” Mary said.  Dust filled the air of the room as unspecified dirt started pouring from the girl’s palm.  By her screams, she seemed as surprised by it as the people who were studying her were.  “Oh, it looks like she’s producing soil now? Organic soil,” Rowan said.  “And… vines and leaves…”  He stared at the screen for about 3 minutes before declaring “They’ve all withered and died.”  The girl’s exhausted panting could be heard as he closed the book and shook his head.  “I can’t watch anymore.”  “Yeah, it was pretty hard for me, too.  I’m afraid that pediatrics were not my specialty.  I couldn’t deal with the voices of children in pain.”  “Plant,” Rowan reminded, holding a hand to his hairline.  “Plant… not that it really makes a difference, right?  This is, on one end, amazing.  Apparently the subject was a Geoplant – a Geoplant walking around in human form.”    He and Mary traded uncomfortable looks.  They both knew how much a “walking Geoplant” would be a valuable asset – a property – to their mission.   

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. (Full version to appear eventually on Ao3).

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

Part 1.Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 6. Part 7. Part8.

5. Mary and Rowan

“This might interest you – if you have the stomach for certain kinds of medical files.”  Mary slapped a closed lightbook on the counter beside the main console where Rowan was analyzing deep-range scans and drone-shots of objects in space within impulse-distance of the fleet.  It was endless work reviewing data from the spectrometer on the chemical makeup of atmospheres around rocky-bodies.  They certainly weren’t going to try landing on a gas giant or anywhere that was a planet made of lava.  They needed a Goldilocks Zone reasonably-temperate rocky planet where they could breathe – perhaps not even perfectly, but within survivable parameters and within a range that their terraforming Plants could take care of.  Rowan looked away from his work for a moment, up at Mary.  Medical work was not his expertise, but he was not particularly squeamish.  He’d known Mary long enough to know that “certain kinds of medical files” typically involved discussions of or photographs of blood, organs or some kind of nasty skin-lesion.  How she could stomach so much of the ugly side of biology escaped him, but she was beautifully brilliant.  If she had something to share with him, it was definitely important and never outside of his interest.  He nearly leapt out of his chair when he took a look at the file she indicated.  “Is this the Plant-child?” he asked, “the one on record from 2405?”    “Yes.”  The video on the file was trained upon a small, soft arm.  It was strapped onto an armrest on a medical table.  Rowan was certain that he’d recognized a pair of large hands in the shot – Steve’s – as unfamiliar voices gave him orders.  “Careful with those feeds,” someone said.  “Yeah, whatever.  Weren’t you supposed to get them situated right?”  “Adjust them, like you would for any other Plant. It is vital to the day’s experiment.”  A small voice offscreen went “Ooof!” and “Aaaah!” in discomfort as the large hand thread a series of long needles that were stuck into the arm, beneath the skin, deeper into it.  Another, more slender-fingered hand with polished nails taped the thin needles down.  It was like witnessing a series of IVs being inserted into someone and adjusted.  The shot expanded out, showing that the needles were connected to insulated wires.  “Alright, Mr. Clef, please begin a low charge.”  In a corner, blurry in the feed, was Steve sitting down at a console.  The small voice screamed. 

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i wish ao3 allowed people to give kudos per each chapter. These 100k word NOVELS need more love than 200 tiny digital hearts ☹️

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. (Full version to appear eventually on Ao3).

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum’s backstory looming in the background. Teen + rating for Trimax backstory and mention of adult situations.

Part 1.Part 2. Part 3. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. 4. Steve

Frickin’ Plants!  What were they gonna do next?  To say that Steve was annoyed would be an understatement.  Several of the Plants in the Electrical Core had been fluctuating lately.  There were brown-outs in the crew’s living quarters, flickering lights for an entire week now.  He was coming back here night and day to re-adjust the codes.  The electrical Generators were the most finicky of the creatures – well, if they could even be called that.  They generated electrical power according to input codes (and occasional percussive maintenance, seems like he could get a bulb to work if he kicked it).  This was different than most of the others, such as the materials Generators, which used an input of electrical power relayed from the electrical Plants, although the materials they created were coded in.  It was a delicate system and anything that went wrong could kill them all – here in deep space.  The stress gave Steve constant headaches.  The Plants were not perpetual motion machines, even if they seemed like they were so to those outside of the Plant-engineering field.  He knew enough about the physics, even if he didn’t seem like it at all.  Everyone on the Project SEEEDS crews had graduate degrees. He prided himself on being a “party guy” in school, but he’d gotten here legitimately.  He just let folks like Rowan really use the egghead language while he was plainer spoken about the things they all worked with.  And then there was Rem – she talked to the damn things like they were pets.  Pheh! As if they could even hear her.  Their true forms were supposedly in some other dimension.  They just kind of mimicked that weird, disturbingly… uncanny… humanoid form when they “bloomed” as an anchor to the three-dimensional, physical realm.  They were not supposed to bloom except for some rare inductions for heavy maintenance.  Steve hated the look of them when they did.  They’d stare at everyone with those big, blank eyes of theirs, like some kind of deep sea fishes.  He had heard a story once about how humans defined monsters.  It was the idea that the Uncanny Valley existed because people once shared the Earth with something decidedly humanlike, but not human and terribly dangerous.  It was related to ancient fears of vampires, zombies and demons.  The best answer that most agreed upon was the existence of rabies and other brain-altering viruses.  When a Plant bloomed, Steve always felt like there was something diseased looking at him, something vaguely threatening that needed to be kept contained.  The overhead lights flickered again. Humans depended upon them for survival, the least they could do is not be so damned sensitive!  He kicked the bulb harder than he had earlier, hoping to get the Sovereign electrical-Plant to do her duty.  He wondered when Rem was going to be back from her lunch-break.  She’d scold him for his kick if she saw it.  He’d remind her of how thick the glass was.  If the slight vibration his steel-toed boot would give the Plant made her work, maybe her twitchy little ass needed a disturbance.  He wondered, for a moment, if the thing was still upset over what happened to her kid.  No, no, he couldn’t start thinking like Rem now.  He had too much sense for that.  That…product had been a mask, an invader, a harmless-looking threat.  It was a good thing it hadn’t survived for long. The crew had learned some things from it, and that was that.     So why had the dreams returned? He thought he’d gotten rid of them by the end of the last shift with a little nightcap before bed. He’d been having flashbacks in his sleep very vividly lately.  He was here by night-cycle as well as by day-cycle not just to deal with the flickering lights and “upset” Plants, but because he would get up in the middle of the night anyway after the dreams and was afraid of trying to get back to sleep.  It was interfering with his allotted duty-times, too.  He was very prone to take naps during the day-cycle due to exhaustion. 

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I love you speculative biology. I love you worldbuilding projects. I love you creature design. I love you fantasy biology. I love you speculative evolution. I love you science fiction.

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Pssst! Trigun fandom! Let's give Vash all the donuts and let him get a little pudge!

The trope I appreciate very much

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Trigun 98 text post memes 10 of ??

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Rewatching tristamp and just noticed this lol

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Vash awakened to the average aches and pains. One of the metal slats in his ribs caught on the bedsheet - something that happened too often for his liking and seemingly inevitable. He wore pyjamas on even the hottest of nights to try to keep certain aspects of his body shielded from things like too-loose bedsheets or matress-holes or nasty loose bedsprings in dinginer hotels, but all too often his sleeping shirts shifted as he tossed and turned and something got...c..a..u..g...h..t! The gunman winced as he pulled himself free, very carefully. Damn slats! Damn pins! He had so many of these things in his body. Most of them were implanted to shore up dire wounds that he'd healed from ages ago and were not needed anymore, but bone had grown around their internal structures and thus they could not be removed with any degree of safety, so he just lived with them. What was worse than an unhealed wound was a wound that had healed wrong. He had a few of these. He wasn't as prone to infections from it as the average mortal because he was not an average mortal. Vash stretched after he turned on the light in his room. He blinked blindness out of his eyes. It was still dark outside - although there was the tiniest glimmer of gray-blue on the horizon outside the window. Time for the morning training routine. It was an unusually cold morning and he swore he could feel himself rattle as he shambled his way to the toilet. He had a lot of old bullets him. It was a myth that removing the bullet when shot was always the best way to deal with the situation. In fact, it was more often the opposite. "Digging the bullet out" was a fine and dandy way for a man to accidentally kill himself or a buddy and wandering the desert, Vash had seen the results of this way too many times (although he'd saved a few victims of their own ignorance, too). His own body tended to deal with bullets close to vital organs - his powers enacting without his will when he was unconscious or otherwise too out of it tell it to act human and to not expend unnecessary Plant-energy, but there were a few "souvenirs." They were not pleasant at all to feel when he noticed them. He was a champion of pain-tolerance - most of the time. Somewhere far away, Millions Knives sat down at a piano to play the morning song for his sisters. He twitched. He scratched at itches that were not there and felt the ghosts of wounds he'd never experienced. He never felt acute pain, but felt the "knowing that there was pain." It was aggravating enough. He didn't think that he could take the levels of pain that his brother was so dreadfully accustomed to. Vash was definitely awake right now, that much he could feel. Oh, this was a bad morning for him, that much he could feel. He wasn't even freshly wounded, but those old scars, when Vash was near, he could feel a faded version of them. The poor fool was continuing to let the humans tear him to pieces. Knives grit his teeth in rage. He wasn't going to let them go quietly. They would suffer for every sin. And Vash would find the Light - eventually.

You know… if Vash and Knives can feel their sisters wellbeing, they also know if the other is feeling okay or not as well.

So no matter how far apart they are, Knives can tell when Vash is in pain.

Which .... basically happens daily.

No wonder he hates humans

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Trigun 98 text post memes 9 of ??