#glascity

[tigerlanternproductions-blog]

A1*n3

A1*n3, a salty, icky, sticky old man unrests within his foul basement. Trapped in, “The Experience of Life,” he couldn’t move a muscle. A Nextgenner named Jaxis chose A1*n3 as the center of their documentary, #Gamerz4Lyfe, which was initially a passion project searching for survivors addicted to Video Games from the Great Deception era, but Jaxis could only find one: A1*n3. They made sure to research as much as possible before their interview date, discovering all that was available of A1*n3’s life. Apparently everything A1*n3 needed was delivered via Amazon Subpreme, but a worker let slip that the the only orders placed were for adult diapers and oxygen tanks. Jaxis found out A1n*3’s wealth came from a one-two punch from a three-week winning streak playing online poker and investing the prize money into stocks, not for fame but because he wanted his money to play games too.

A1*n3, with no financial restriction, spent his money on everything video-game related. His favorite was backing publishers and studios so that they could create amazing games for him. A1*n3’s last investment was funding experimental surgery that tethered every nerve of his body to a Reality Simulator. His entire life from that point on was suppose to be hyper-enhanced, the ultimate video game: Life itself. Every body sensation plugged into a machine for an eternally sustainable stimulation would create an experience unlike anything anyone could know. Because he would be attached to a machine, the intensity level would in theory be completely customizable. The doctors put him in a medically induced coma, and on their end, the connection was a success, Brain scans show that every part of his brain is could be activated at once. Functionally speaking he was trapped in a coma, but his brain’s activity levels were at the mercy of the machine. Scientists theorized he was in a hyperconscious whirlwind. All of this, Jaxis could find out without visiting, so what could be discovered by actually visiting?

The SkyWicker controls the weather, and because it was a private corporation, they were prone to make decisions based on financial interests instead of looking out for civilization. For example, the more money that a city paid to them, the more pleasant their weather was. Only rich small towns could enjoy seasons, and access (to even visit these communities) required extensive background, credit checks, and fees. Opting out of SkyWicker technology wasn’t an option. The continued occurrence of natural disasters even though they are completely controllable, was justified because of their necessity: to keep Earth functioning at peak capacity, weather had to keep happening. Hurricanes, earthquakes, blizzards, they had their natural purpose, but they also became a sort of public-service, a nature toll, but when small and precise disasters happen, maybe only wiping out a small town, there is a feeling that there was a purpose behind the killing. Once, hail the size of tires came crashing down on Glascity. SkyWicker blamed a worker who fell asleep in the chair, but “Bi(h)omes” factory and corporate offices were all destroyed. Their residential bubble habitats made it possible to control weather in personal yards, circumventing SkyWicker entirely. Bi(h)omes had plans on shrinking their technology to fit within a room.

On the day of Jarvis’ visit to A1*n3, a tornado advisory was placed. These occurrences were the equivalent of public assassinations. Intense spectacles meant to send a message. In the middle of Jarvis’ interview with A1*n3, a funnel shot down from the sky and began shredding the house. They were in the basement, but open sky was above them. Jarvis grabbed onto A1*n3, and they both were lifted up. A1*n3 had so many cords knotted and connected to his body, his body would not falter. A sudden tingling sensation was followed by a flash of hot white as a lightning bolt shattered Jarvis out of existence. The storm subsided, and for the first time in sixty years, A1*n3 regained consciousness. Small metallic bug-bots swarmed the debris, settling around A1*n3’s body, creating a shimmering body-bug-bag transporter. Vibrations of the hive-minded critters were, in a way, soothing to someone who hadn’t known his body in years. So when he arrived wherever they took him, he was calm, smelly, but ready.

[merrylordofmisrule]

Guess whose band merch came in?? I will shamelessly promote my boyfriend's band #glascity #whoevenlikesmetalcoreanyway

[tracyyquinn]

not sure what the lights did to my camera but it looks cool haayyy @glascitybandoh #glascity #toledomusicfest #homies