#SiFi

[spikeoshields]

I’ve heard the #humans are space orcs idea of aliens not having concept of sleep. And being confused why humans just shut down for short periods of time.  Wouldn’t this also apply to the ideas of being knocked unconscious?

Some poor insect-based creatures, without a concept of a sleep cycle bombard and ram a human vessel before boarding. Scanning and sweeping the area, no moving life forms. Sure they know the humans are there, but their muscles are relaxed and they’re not moving at all. They’re probably just in the process of dying.

Then a few minutes later, the humans start to GET UP. Dazed confused and depending on the level of concussion, maybe lack of pain response.

Part of me thinks rumors spreading the galaxy about humans would sound a lot like a zombie movie.

[halbarryislife]

Happy Birthday Anthony Ainley // 20 August 1932

[a-morningstar-120]

At this point, if I get picked up by aliens, I’m just going to go ahead and consider it a rescue mission instead of an abduction.

[notebooks-and-laptops]

I find it so funny when someone is like "it's unrealistic that [insert SiFi thing here] would happen which makes this media bad" like my good sir it's a metaphor

[ghostofechoes]

I Need Genuine Help

Don’t worry it’s not that serious but still serious enough to me.

I’ll probably not get a response, this is my most active account online and that’s saying something.

I am going to go trigger happy with tags just to get this post out there so I apologize in advance!

Respond to this send me an ask reblog I don’t care just help me lol.

I don’t know what to do I have to many ideas and no one in my life to help me.

No it’s not mental health and no it’s not that I don’t have anyone I just don’t have anyone who will know how to help me with this.

I am overwhelmed with so many ideas so many stories I want to create in so many different mediums and my brain won’t let me choose one.

I don’t even have a hyperfixation that I can lean on right now to get going with like fanfiction/art.

So I’m stuck in a limbo bursting with creativity but no outlet.

There is another issue

I am exhausted after work and rather let my ideas whirring around in my skull things on easy mode while I watch shows that bring me up.

But that’s not creative, it’s gotten to the point that jotting down my ideas aren’t enough I need to do something.

But everyone I know will tell me to go the capitalist route and pick the one that can make you money the soonest even if it’s not what I am enjoying most at the moment.

But I can’t do it, call it undiagnosed adhd/autism or me being stubborn as fuck but I want to enjoy what I do I am incapable of starting anything if I don’t enjoy it so this is where you all come in.

Help me pick?

What is my limited range of people who can hear my voice interested in the most?

I am going to be doing all of these I am unable to keep away from all my ideas

My issue is taking the first step I would appreciate my audience/community to say what they want to see out of the choices I want to pick so at the very least I will have like one person interacting with my stuff.

So this 31 year old gayby is asking for help thank you for your time!

Love you all out there!

[razcunningham]

Modern wizardry

[halfadoginatank]

RE:BOOTING

The problem with being a mad scientist, John surmises, is being very aware of his madness.

There had been a few moments of all out delusion, spawned mostly of sleep deprived nights and the long term effects they bring. But throughout his career helping this military world, he had always been very aware of the line he toed.

More accurately, aware of his own actions and how they kicked any idea of morality off the shelf.

Oh he couldn't help it, John Mactavish had always been passionate, and eager, and maybe a bit uncanny in his desire for creation.

After all that's what he did for a living, Create.

It started with sketches, cartoon scribbles as the world fell to pieces behind a little boy.

Then small parts of building kids in sweaty teenage palms, building something just as the world did.

Then the military started using androids, Replacants, some looked human, mass produced for the population for everyday needs. Some prehistoric bolts and scrap metal stayed in houses or with children. But those high end beings, gifted to look like peoples lost loved ones, transferring consciousness to faux human forms.

John was obsessed, so when they opened their doors for engineers, chemists and robot specialists of all kinds to join- to help. He ran to the nearest outpost and signed up

He'd worked on everything throughout the years, robots that knew nothing but carrying bombs from location to location, Replicents of soldiers whose original bodies had decayed and grown useless to the military. Even androids with their own original personalities. He'd lived in sheds disguised as dorms, he'd slept in glamorous R&D departments, he'd even crashed in a superior's car.

Then Captain John Price stormed into his lab, his ‘office’. Hard earned with years of climbing ranks until he became an engineer worthy of the SAS, a mess of parts and papers and coffee, safety goggles on his head despite the whirling bandsaw he stood in front of.

Task force 141 was in the making, he told him. Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick was an android, who'd loved life as a civilian before the family that bought him passed, Kate Laswell, their overwatch and trusted friend, and price himself. but there was one problem.

They called him Ghost, a revitalized Replicant, a robotic body as close as they get to what he looked like when they found him, dying in Texas just past the Mexican border. The body was damaged, chassis cracked and wires tangled.

Price told him of Simon Riley, the man he'd been before. How good of a soldier, how good a friend.

A special task force was just the thing to give him authorization to bring him back, the last piece of the puzzle, they needed a man to do it.

————

Pretty much, Androids are human like artificial beings with their own personalities. Replicents are an android body with a human consciousness, and Robots are just brainless task things.

Part Two

Whooo okay, the brainrot decided I wanted to make a shitty sifi au for task force 141. Im keeping world building pretty blurry so I dont end up tripping myself up and creating a world that doesnt make sense.

I did all this shoddy writing so I can actually get to explaining the anomaly that is Ghost and how Soap fixes him and ties the team together.

Honestly, you can blame my ultrakill interest for making this, especially with what im about to write about Ghost.

[ms-tillus]

The Lunar Chronicles, Jacin and Winter!!! Cuties.

[trichternet]

https://www.furaffinity.net/view/58121565/

https://twitter.com/TrichterNET/status/1835531992793743413

[m0lem4n]

parsley is a ex-farmer turned space aviator.

[two-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

I love when sifi shows are so obviously written by people who don't know shit about science and are just putting words in there

I'm watching the flash (the show) and there's a big wormhole at the end of s1 with the energy of 16 Terra electron-Volts??!?? wow so much

its 0.01 joules of energy

that's fuck all and it's so funny

[vikasilev]

It's such a beautiful game, Avatar. I've been playing it for 4 days now and can't get enough of the beautiful work of Pandora. The story is nice, game play is fun, and a very good photo mode is a cherry on top.

If you are a fan of the films you will want to play this game.

I will be posting more images of this game here, on top of warframe stuff😍

[supreme-empress]

Stestelalana and Lilinella, or Alana and Lily as they called eachother, were in love. That is the most important part to know. They were gods on their homeworld, Estana. Alongside six others, they served the Estanian people and protected them from harm. The gods of Estana were the most caring and most loved gods in their galaxy. Lilinella was their god of war: she protected the Estanian people from outside threats. Alana was their god of farming; she helped the Estanian people grow and protect their crops. It took nearly five centuries of godhood, but Lily had finally met her match: a small group of a very powerful species. But they did not care about Estana or it's people - they wanted Lily, and did not care what they destroyed to get to her. Lily needed to hide, to protect her people, and Alana insisted on going with her. They had been together for over four hundred years and refused to be apart for any amount of time. But now they would have to be apart. Lily had to wipe herself of anything that could have her found. Including Alana.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alana woke roughly and felt the empty bed. Her eyes weren't open yet, but the weight of Lily wasn't there. Her arms weren't wrapped around Alana. The scent of her conditioner didn't fill the air. It was done. She was gone. Alana opened her eyes. She closed them. Lily always woke her up, she'd brush her hand across Alana's cheek and softly whisper "My Love, it's time to start the day," and Alana would protest with "My Love, it's still time to sleep". And they would go back and forth like that for however-long, all the while curled up as close as they could physically be. But Lily wasn't there. For four hundred and forty two years, Lily had been there. But today, for the first time, Lily wasn't there. Alana thought back to before they fell in love. She couldn't remember how she got out of bed in the mornings.

Two tries later and Alana finally dragged herself out from the covers. "I really do need to get up. She'll be here soon." she checked the time. "Damn it, she'll be here really soon." Alana rushed around the room, stumbling over the unfamiliar layout. She pulled on a dress. She stopped. Lily used to do up her zip. There was no time for tears, no time to mourn. Alana swapped the dress for a skirt and top, pulling her hair into a messy braid. She brushed her teeth, wiped her face and scrubbed her nails the same way she had for four centuries. But it wasn't the same way, there was no humming, no perfume, no one in the way.

The clock ticked to 9:42. Lily was getting there at 9:50. Alana sat on the couch not knowing what to do with her eight minutes. She picked up some marbles from a bowl on the coffee table. 'Who decorated this place,' she thought to herself. 'Must have been Marise, it's so…' The doorbell rang through the house and pierced Alana's ears. 'She's early.' 'She's never been early in her life.' She walked to the door.

This was it. She had to open the door, she had to see her love. 'But she's not my love. Not now.' Tears started to well. 'God I can't answer the door crying. How would I explain that? Oh yeah I'm just crying because you used to love me and now you don't even-' the door bell rang again. 'Ok, I can do this.' Alana placed her hand on the door. 'I can do this' she turned the handle, 'I can do this'. She opened the door. Lily stood there, as beautiful as the day they met.

"Hi, I'm Lily. You must be…"

"Alana. My name is Alana"

"Alana, that's pretty. It's nice to meet you Alana." Lily waited for a response. Alana waited for a miracle.

[theicequeen623ggg]

Day 20 uncharted

[pitch-and-moan]

A Thinly Veiled Allegory for Antisemitism/Islamophobia

[vd-poetry]

Mir wird es niemals verständlich sein, wie sich die meisten Menschen als Krone der Schöpfung betrachten. Es gibt nichts Fragileres als den Menschen selbst. Doch bei genauerem Hinsehen zeichnet ihn tatsächlich etwas Göttliches aus: Die Gabe ein Leben zu formen. So kann etwas Imperfektes etwas Perfektes schaffen, um dadurch eine Ablösung zu finden.