#how does a creature get trapped on an inhospitable planet for who knows how long..... do 'xtonic rays' destroy bodies but not souls???

[godsfavoritescientist]

Finally rewatching some doctor who, and the episode 'midnight' is such a different experience now what the fuck.

Spent the first half of the episode like "wait the doctor IS being reasonable this is an undiscovered lifeform its just trying to learn things its not its fault people think its creepy </3" and also "this is a bit more contrived than I remember. Why are all these tourists down for Murder after 20 minutes of someone repeating what they say." But of course the episode is having so much fun with itself that I'm having fun too <3

Anyway my crack theory is that the midnight creature is post-finale bill, due to the line, while possessing someone, of "I can move, I can feel again, I'm coming back to life" and all the really obvious evil little smiles

[revchainsaw]

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind (1984)

Prayers and Salutations Cult Members! I am your mysterious minister Reverend Chainsaw and this is another nights revival service at the Cult Film Tent Revival. I bring you a special word tonight. Tonight's word is about a person who roamed the earth, in a time where people were backward and warlike. A leader emerged into a kingdom full of eschatological expectation. This leader came preaching peace, and was killed for the sins of the world, but was resurrected. In that resurrection a new hope was brought to the planet, and true healing through the power of love in the face of violence is made possible. I am talking of course about Princess Nausicaa from the Valley of the Wind.

The Message

Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is the film that put studio Ghibli and Hayoa Miyazaki on the map. No animated feature this grandiose and epic had been achieved by 1984, as much as Disney may beg to differ. The tale may be simple, and it may feel super 80s to us today, but Nausicaa is a masterpiece, and the fact that Howl's Moving Castle is brought up alongside Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away more often than Nausicaa is a farce and a tragedy.

The film takes place on a fantastic planet that seems to have suffered the ravages of an apocalyptic war. A war that involved gigantic warriors with powers so devastating they about made the entire planet inhospitable if not uninhabitable; save for a few areas. The fall out of this ancient war has left the earth in a state of repair, where the natural processes of a planet healing has creating giant toxic jungles.

Beyond these jungles lie two imperialistic factions, they seem almost to be city-states but it's not terribly clear. The Kingdom of Tolmekia, a militaristic proto-fascist society of almost Spartan sensibilities. Tolmekia is governed by the ambitious and cynical Princess Kushana, But I like to call her Furiosa. Just like Furiosa, Kushana is physically missing parts of herself, a visual metaphor for her metaphysical lacking and the parts of her humanity she has cut away. Kushana's world view is one of fear, a fear that can only be quelled by waging a genocidal campaign against her enemies.

Speaking of enemies, the Athens to Tolmekias Sparta would be the Pejite Kingdom. The Pejites might like to view themselves as simply responding to Tolmekian aggression, but the narrative of the film, and the story told quite visibly on the body of Kushana, is quite different. The Pejites are just as bloodthirsty if not more palettable in their approach, but like the Tolmekians, they believe only their own lives have any value. And thus, in this theatre of war, a Giant Warrior from the ages before is unearthed by the Pejite Kingdom, Stolen by the Tolmekians, before the forces of nature themselves, seem to conspire to drop the Giant Warriors "egg" right into the Valley of the Wind.

The Valley of the Wind is populated like the world of Avatar the Last Airbender, that is mostly of children and the elderly. The people of the Valley have been able to remain untouched by the ravages of war and the toxic jungles of the damaged world primarily due to geographic luck that's explained in minor exposition in the film. They are ruled by a King, and they are all deeply enamored by their beloved Princess Nausicaa.

Nausicaa is a gentle soul. She is kind to animals, she is empathetic, unreasonably patient, and bears pain and grief inflicted on her out of cruelty with a saintly understanding. She really is a thinly veiled Christ figure, scratch that. There is no veil. But she's also my favorite Christ figure. She does not preach a message, as much as she tries to save everyone from their own short sighted goals. She is not perfect, she does lash out and do some fantasy sword fight murder, but she regrets her actions so deeply that it seems to have played a part in motivating her to become even more compassionate and patient with the evils of the world.

Nausicaa discovers yet another plot by the Pejites, who are afraid of the possibility of the Tolmekians awakening the Giant Warrior, to use animal cruelty to enrage a group of almost invincible giant insects known as the Ohm. By luring the Ohm into the Valley of the Wind where the Tolmekians have become an occupying force, they hope to completely wipe out everything that threatens them. The Tolmekians DO awaken the Giant Warrior and pure pandemonium ensues. Nausicaa manages to save the Baby Ohm and calm the rage of the bloodthirsty Ohm swarm, and to defeat the warlike tendencies of both the Pejites and the Tolmekians. All the while fulfilling a prophecy fortold about a messianic savior figure called the Man in Blue.

Now that you have heard the Gospel of Nausicaa, please stand to receive The Benediction.

Best Character: Half a Person

Now that I've spent the better part of this review gushing about our Lord and savior Nausicaa. I have to admit, she's at times a bit too perfect, a bit too saccharin. Even her flaw, or her one weakness and her failing to be perfect, just adds to the perfection. I can't even say she never makes mistakes cuz she made one, and that's infuriating. It's even more infuriating that I still think she's a great character. Normally this kind of thing really kills a hero. Most Chosen Ones are the most boring and least likeable characters in their narratives. I don't know how Nausicaa avoids this trap, but she does. I'll have to do some meditating on that.

However, just like in your typical Chosen One fantasy narrative, the hero is a lot less fun than the villain. I'm going to say the best character in Nausicaa is Kushana. I want to be like Nausicaa, but I don't understand her. She's almost alien, even though we learn all about her. Kushana is mysterious, secretive, and enigmatic, yet I understand her. She barely has an arc, she doesn't really change. She's cold and cynical to the bone, but I don't need to see much of her situation to completely understand why she is the way she is. I usually hate totalitarian bad guys, but Kushana I like. Sue Me.

Also fun fact, did you that Nausicaa means 'Sinker of Ships'. That's kinda fun.

Best Scene: Spoiled for Choice

I'm going to be lazy and say take your pick. There is really not a bad seen in this movie. If the action isn't going, then there's intriguing dialogue. If there's no dialogue then you may be about to get hit with a forceful burst of whimsy. There's horror, there's swordfights and aerial dogfights. The only thing in Nausicaa I don't like to see, is the bloody tortured Ohm Baby. It's like a god damned Sarah Mclachlan commercial.

Best Creature: Foxy Shazam!

The Ohm are so simplistic yet so detailed. The number of eyes is alien, but the way they are used is expertly expressive. Who'd think you could get me to love what basically amounts to a silverfish with the intensity that I love a kitten. How did Miyazaki pull an Okja with a creature that should be haunting our dreams? I don't know.

And what about the Giant Warrior! If you are an Evangelion fan then you probably already know that Hideaki Anno designed and animated the melting goopy biomechanical beast. Surely a sight that would make both H.R. Giger and Clive Barker giddy with excitement. Just the image of the silhouettes marching amidst the desolation of the old world is burned into my brain.

So which of these is the best creature from Ghibli's first outing? It's fucking Teto. It was always gonna be Teto you idiot. Just look at Teto, he's adorable. He's too cute to exist. I'm so alone. I need a pet.

Best Character Design: Tolmekian Regalia

I originally included this category to talk some about Kushana, however, at that time I also thought I was going to say Nausicaa was the best character. I thought hard about deleting it, but I think it's a different category and you can't accuse me of playing favorites because my favorite character is clearly Teto. Just to keep it simple. It's the two costume shift from full military regalia in white and gold, to the one metal arm, warrior princess get up. It's a great costume and a great look. Get on this shit cosplay nerds. It's great for Cons in Canada, you have to think about layers, and you can't keep going as Mr. Plow. It's lazy.

Best Excuse to Talk About Patrick Stewart's Character: Lord Yupa

I just realized that I was about to write this whole review without talking about Lord Yupa. Lord Yupa is a sword saint and all around badass I think a lot of entertainment, especially in the west is lacking bad ass old men. Lord Yupa particularly shines in the early half of the film as a warrior and as a wise council to Nausicaa. If she's Jesus then Yupa is John the Baptist. He is also voiced by the elegant and eloquent Patrick Stewart. He also comes with 2 chocobos!

Worst Character: For Whom Asbel Tolls

This might also be the worst actor category as well. Actual Cannibal (haha meme) and actual monster (haha real life) Shia Labeouf doesn't so much act in the role as he read the lines and it was recorded. The good news it doesn't effect the film too much because Asbel is completely forgettable. He is a catalyst to some of the action, but besides that I don't really care for him.

Worst Aspect: To Be Fair ...

It would be unfair to completely ignore anything negative about Nausicaa. I have already mentioned in many places that there are some pretty corny, or pretty predictable tropes to this movie. But what I can't capture in words is exactly why it feels fresh when it's done in this movie. I suppose that's what makes it good. It's just so good that it's weak points are lifted up by it's strengths. Some people may bored of Nausicaa's unyielding goodness, or that she very rarely chooses to take action as much as she chases and pleads with her surroundings, but I mean, she does pay for that eventually. It's a fantasy story and it hits a lot of timeless themes that have been hit in stories for as long as human beings have been telling stories. Some people may feel that it doesn't do enough to stand out.

Summary

I have defined the S tier for myself as "near perfect and personal favorite" films. I like to think that Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is near perfect. Some may say that it looks like it might just be a personal favorite. In the case of Nausicaa, I'm having a very hard time telling the difference. I think it would be overly simple to claim that Nausicaa is just an ancient archetypal heroes journey with an 80s anime coat of paint. I think it's doing quite a few new and interesting things with that formula, those things are just playing out all around that narrative as opposed to being at it's center. For a first full length outing by the studio, you can really see Miyazaki's heart and the values he holds close to. I'll repeat myself so that we are completely clear on the matter. I think Nausicaa and the Valley of the Wind is a near perfect movie.

Overall Grade: S

[millsogara]

Captain’s always right

Not all worlds are born equal. Some, like the lost forest planets of Hickory Doon, can support thousands of eco systems, rare birds, civilisations and insectoids and, were it not for the cripplingly high gravitational pull, would be a thriving tourist trap to this day. (As it is, there are enough splattered corpses and puddles of bone visible from the passing shuttle window and it’s hard for even the most hardened adventurer to look on undeterred.)

Others, like Demento, have nothing but ash.

“Bit hot.” Said Jager, fanning himself with a pack of plasters from his med kit.

“Borderline inhospitable, “said Micha, who could already start to feel her fair skin tighten as a rich layer of crackling formed on its surface. She turned to her captain, Franklin U.Saltese, who ordinarily stared down every planet with stoic resolve, but now wilted before her eyes like a dry petunia. She wanted to water him, but in all likelihood that would just boil him alive. “In fact, I don’t think we should stay here a moment longer than necessary. Let’s find the source of that distress beacon and get the hell out. I can feel my veins starting to froth.” As soon as she said it, her blood began to itch. All psychosomatic, she told herself.

Like a pustular youth, the planet’s surface was all cracked and broken, bloody scabs rose from the bubbling mire in great towers of molten rock and the whole place gave off a sickly, infected heat. The atmosphere was almost too dense to see through, but somewhere, pinned to the sky high above, shone a watery sun. This was not solar interference; this village was built on a huge volcano.

The island on which they stood, 13foot by 13 foot- just big enough to land a shuttle-bobbed and swayed with the fiery currents. A few steps away, a gap large enough to leap, lead to another rock and another. Some of the floating outcrops were more substantial, as such were home to houses. Quite ordinary buildings woven from stone and white picket fence, they clung to the side of the rocks like limpets.

“This place is not hospitable Mich’.” Frank panted, already breathing in more sulphur than he’d like. “In the same way as my aged mother is not hospitable; she doesn’t like visitors, and neither does Demento. Red is the colour of danger, the whole planet’s trying to tell us something. Let’s make this an ‘in out job’.”

“A Men to that.” She rolled up her sleeves. “The sleeves are up, Frank, I’m physically uncomfortable.”

Ordinarily, in any temperature below say 200oc, Frank was far from a sweaty wilting carrot- he took pride in his tan, his appearance, his toned physique. He enjoyed spending time at each locale they visited- picking up local cultures and striking bonds with the people. Some bonds were stronger than others. The Star force code- 1) Do not interfere with the natural order 2) keep calm and 3) don’t mate with the locals, only vaguely applied to him. He was captain after all. He did keep a condom tucked away for safety. Don’t want to leave the planet with one more problem when you leave.

As it was, he could already feel the condom dry and crack under the intense heat. He would have to throw it out as soon as they got back. Damn thing would be useless now.

He cast an eye around Dante’s inferno. Very unlikely to be used today anyway.

“Where did the distress signal come from?” Asked Jager.

Mac studied her tablet. “That building there.” She pointed ahead at the closest building, five times bigger than the rest, a huge triangular roof held aloft on three roman columns- the sort of simple structure that a child might make with blocks. From this distance, and through the vaporous fug, it was impossible to make out the intricate carvings, but it was clear this home was important. For one thing, unlike the limpet cottages, it did not look about to tumble off the side. A mayoral residence?

White paint reflected the hellish heat well, she was forced to close her eyes for a second, lest it blind her. When she opened them again, Frank had vanished.

“I’ll just head over here to enquire,” he yelled, bounding over the stones towards it. Micha winced. The heavy-footed bugger partially submerged every stone he landed on and it was only a matter of time before he fell too hard on one that was too small and ended up with first degree burns from the waist down. By a twist of fate, he made it, and they watched his stumpy frame climb up the mayoral boulder.

“What’s fleet footed Frank’s rush all of a sudden?” She asked.

“Hollyoaks is on in half an hour.” The doc shrugged. “He won’t want to miss it for this.”

“Oh shit, we finally get to find out where Brendon hid the moondust? I can’t miss this episode-“

“And you won’t.” He cast an eye around the bubbling lagoon. “Nothing much amiss here. No invading hordes, no star destroyers. No locals in sight, actually. It seems quite peaceful.”

She nudged his shoulder, pointed due East. He turned, careful not to rock their pebble, “there are some guys over there. We could ask them what’s going on.”

Sure enough, there was a small gaggle, three doddery old codgers lined up on the edge of a rock, staring gormlessly into a stream of lava as it went by, as if in search of their own reflections. With their bright red shells and puffy faces, the lava was a pretty good likeness. As was a slice of Margareta pizza with the topping peeled off. Dementans were meant to look like that. Scabby faced creatures, lepers with tortoise shells and pus spots. An odd race raised in sulphur and smoke.

“This better not be another prank distress call. “She grumbled, beginning the long shaky march over to where they stood. “I swear, if we miss Brendon’s last episode because of some joker who wanted to see a StarForce vessel fot the first time-“ she stopped mid stride. Mid moan.

They weren’t on their rock anymore. With a serine smile and a faint ‘plop’ they all put their palms together in a diving position and disappeared face first. Micha stood there, three rocks from Jager, three rocks from the suicide cult, unsure how to proceed. Demento’s weren’t meant to do that. And granted, it was quite distressing.

#

Frank scrabbled up the boulder. He had almost lost his footing once or twice down there, but each time, instinct took over. You may let yourself slide down the bark of a tree should your grip come loose while climbing in the park, or give into the inevitable halfway up a cliff, so long as you have faith in the harness round your waist, but when faced with certain death below, most people can find a handhold somewhere. Anywhere. They make do. Frank was Lazy, but death seemed like a drastic excuse for a rest break. Whenever he slipped, he scrabbled further up, his own momentum and the boulder’s slight curvature keeping him going until he finally reached the precipice on top. Smooth flat rock. He melted into it, exhausted. Knees scuffed and torn, his palms blistered blisters. This better be worth it. They best be in SERIOUS trouble. Frank rarely prayed for an air strike, but for the sake of whoever summoned him…

He rolled up onto his stomach, then to his knees and lumbered into the comparative shade of the building’s foyer. Lining the hallway were a hoard of Dementons.

He could tell by the effervescent ruby red of their shells, and the effort that had been put into polishing them, that these were the females of the species. They batted their burnt tomato eyelids and held out their sweaty hands. He gritted his teeth. Certainly, this had been a job for Misha, as foreign dignitary. Why had he stormed on ahead? He shook their hands, grimaced at the crispy flakes of skin that peeled off and accepted the odd little notes they pressed into his breast pocket.

He hated foreign cultures, traditions that he did not understand. That’s why he became a StarForce captain, to learn about other civilisations, so they weren’t so alien any more.

He continued down the corridor, shaking and nodding and smiling and by the time he reached the end, the big oak door, the mayor’s office, resting place of the big Kahone, he was none the wiser. But he was determined to have a good read about the Demeton culture later when he got back to the ship. Back to the ship with its library, it’s fridge full of ice-cold drinks… A sweat bead drippled down his forehead… With its luxurious airconditioning….

Then he set foot in the office and remembered why he had been so eager to rush on in the first place. The mayor had air conditioning too. Of course, he did.

“Hello sir-“

*She * did.

The lady major rose elegantly from her seat and wandered round the desk; hand outstretched. By now, Frank knew the protocol, he would not let himself down again. He smiled in greeting. Tried hard not to loom over her petit 5” frame as he pumped her clammy palm.

“We received you distress signal, madam!” he said, pulling back. “My crew and I came as fast as we could.”

“Oh yes,” her voice a sing song trill he had not expected from that body,” you did come fast. I thank you, captain. That shall be all.” She pottered back round the desk. He watched, dumfounded. She fought to wrestle her awkward backside back into the seat.

“Excuse me?”

“Crisis averted, captain- you’re free to go.”

“Yes, but what was the emergency? You sent out a Band One distress signal, with maximum penetration- you yelled for help at the top of your lungs, and we came to help.”

“Yes, captain, and I must say your alacrity did you proud. You’ve done very well for us and we’re hugely grateful. Now you and your crew are free to stay as long as you wish. But do not stay for our sake, we’re quite satisfied with your performance, and shall need you no further.”

“Quite satisfied?”

Her beady little eyes bulged; she gave a curt smile. Eager to be rid. “A good firm shake, yes.”

Frank bristled. “I’ll have you know that we do not come running for entertainment value, for whimsy or some cry for attention. There are penalties to wasting a Star Cruiser’s resources madam. Not to mention, in the time we’ve been here- proving ourselves to you- we may have been seriously needed elsewhere. If that’s true, may it hang guilty on your conscience-” He paused for breath, rants hard to maintain in such low oxygen, “but I am glad we lived up to your so very high standards.” There was paperwork for this. He could file a report back on the ship, get them fined for improper use of Force time. He glanced at his watch.

10 minutes till Hollyoaks - the deceitful decapod had held him up enough. In 10 minutes, they would finally be rid of bloody Brendon, the prancing arse had ruined his favourite galactic soap opera for weeks, and if frank missed this pivotal instalment because of… Whatever this was. Because he was trying to track down the requisite forms, scan them in to the trans molecular telefax, make the cavalcade of calls to Commander Chutney-

“But today, as it is your first offence, you shall get away with a warning.”

“Oh?” The Demento mayor was unperturbed.

“Yes, and a slap on the wrist.” He leant forward, smacked her arm, and turned on his heel to leave.

“Ohh, you are a saucy number.”

Frank gave a shiver and turned back. That was not the sort of comment you could leave the room on. It was cringeworthy. He certainly could not leave the planet on that note.

“Saucy… How?”

“We were lucky, captain, lucky it was you who received our distress signal. Do you know often we must advertise for foreign seed? How often that seed is vastly inferior to our desires?”

“What seed?”

“You even moisturise your hands! So soft, so considerate. You didn’t have to. We’ve been forced over the generations to mate with some very crusty dockers. Dockers with blistered finger tips and,” she shuddered,” hangnails that catch.”

“Thank you madam mayor, but I really must know what you meant by-“he was cut off by manic grunting as the woman strained and contorted before his eyes. One moment she was fine, aloof, the next bent forward in a hideous gurn, her stomach clutched in claw like hands. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “Indigestion?” Instinctively went to hold her hand-

“No silly- I’m about to lay our egg.”

“What?”

“Your finger prints and my fingerprints,” she looked up at him, cheeks rosy, puffed, eyes crossed in concentration; all her features scrunched up contorted disarray. He whipped his hand back and stumbled to the door. This was no birth, this was a transformation, and he didn’t want to be around to see what heinous beast she turned into-

All too late. He found the handle, but the deed was done. The metamorphosis was complete. Her lips parted in a wet, exulted gasp. Her dress gave a flutter. A ruby red egg rolled out from underneath. Shiny, round, no bigger than a football. Frank resisted the urge to boot it through the window. He pressed himself to the door, as far away as possible from the inhuman Pez dispenser. “Our fingerprints bonded to make this blessed child!”

“Wait wait wait wait wait! You people do it with your… fingers?”

“Well of course- what do your species use?”

“That doesn’t matter.” He was already bright red, she couldn’t see the blush. “But… How could you let me come here and just… just.. harvest my DNA like that?”

“Are you calling into question the miracle of birth?” Her beady eyes narrowed. She bent to scoop up the egg in her arms.

“I’m calling into question your shonky set of morals, woman. I don’t know if that was rape, but it was certainly taking advantage. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what we were doing.”

“Well now you’ve been educated.” She continued to rock the large ball, made little cooing noises to it. Frank’s stomach flipped; he felt as though he were about to give birth too, or at the very least have kittens. This was his child, 50% of his genes, and the hideous Dementon was treating him as though he had no further claim to it. She had carried it in her intestinal papoose for what- maybe three minutes?- and shat it out on the carpet- that made it entirely her property? Did it hell as like. Protocol number 1 may be not to interfere with the natural order, but if Dementon didn’t have a Father’s for justice programme already, he may just have to set one up.

Frank settled for a strangled meow, and fled through the door.

The cast of dignitaries and well-wishers, which he now knew to be dirty dirty slags, only in it for his chromosomes,  watched him on the way out. He kept his chin up, strode past with nary a glance, but he could feel the wall of eyes. See the beautiful red prizes they clutched to their bosom. Out into Dante’s inferno. Out of the frying pan and into the fire-

“What’s this?” Micha storming towards him, arms pumping like pistons, steam practically puffing from her ears - a pissed of steam train.

“Oh… nothing…”

She came to a halt, none to nose. Held up a little red ball. Fantastic. They’d already travelled. “Cos they’re getting pooped out all over the place- and I was just wondering if you had any fatherly wisdom as to what made them?” The way she cocked her eyebrow and made that forehead vein throb, Frank got the feeling she knew full well what made them. Still, he decided to play along with her game of Guess Who.

“A very large hen?”

“No. I think you’ll find it was a very large cock!”

“I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“Oh great, well fine,” she stomped back and held the egg aloft above her head,” why don’t we celebrate then, with on massive, creepy omelette? Floor should be hot enough to cook it, don’t you think?”

With that her arms flexed and she went to smash his blessed child-

“No! Micha,” he sprung forward, grabbed her tightly, “no!” His voice crackled like the steam,” don’t cook my child!”

She wrestled out his grip. ““Ah, so you admit it!”

“Please, where did you find this one? Where’s the momma? Where did you get it?”

“Just lying round in a bush over there. Mum tried to sell it to me for $5 but she accepted some scotch eggs and pocket lint instead. I don’t think 90% of these mothers are very attached.” Frank was, Frank was very attached, he glared daggers round the island in case one hit a shameless hussy. Sell my child for snack food, he thought. Micha glared too, though her daggers were aimed at him.” What’s the main rule of star force Frank?”

“No intervention.”

“Yes. And keep calm.” He nodded emphatically.” And don’t mate with the locals.”

“I kept calm.”

“And you mated with everyone!”

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

“You impregnated more than that??”

“Over statement! Overstatement! “He patted her arm.” You know what I mean.”

He scoured the area for possible allies. Jager. Where was Jager? Old bosom buddies from back in the academy days, the ship’s doctor would take his side. He’d certainly be nowhere near as judgemental as Micha here. The grey haired fool was miles away, poking a branch into some lava-flows- God knows why-  so he snapped his fingers at a rather well dressed woman instead. The woman had an egg of her own, and perhaps a husband.” You there- is that my kid?”

“Yes.” The woman nodded.

Perhaps not. “Okay, bad example. But how was I meant to know? How could I possibly have known?”

“Read the case file for the planet before you touch down. Don’t be a stumbling bumbling boob. I don’t know Frank, some element of forethought and research.”

“Okay, ‘read the case file’ is all very well and good, but it would help if that was in the StarForce code.”

“The code neglects to warn you about the perils of an open flame- would you burn yourself alive because the code doesn’t explicitly sate otherwise?”

“No. Not unless this whole planet wants me to pay child support. Then I might consider it.”

“Well while you’ve been spreading your wild oats, Jager and I have been actually getting to the bottom of the issue. You remember the planet-wide issue we were summoned here to sort?”

“Oh yes, about that-“

“Shush now frank, you’ve had your time to speak, let the adult finish her bit” Frank shut his mouth. If anything, her sass would make him relish his juicy revelation even more later. “It turns out, this planet has a massive suicide problem. Now I don’t know what it is- psychological manipulation, some brain rotting bacteria, death cult, but all of the old people have suddenly started killing themselves and if we don’t intervene-“

Micha stopped, shoved out the way by two decrepit locals, as they fought their way past to the edge of the precipice. One gave Frank a fleeting smile. He nodded politely. She didn’t see. She had already plunged head first into the lava. It was quite a drop, but in moments, her shell sank with a sickening hiss below the surface. Turtle soup. His stomach growled. He dropped his egg. Luckily it bounced.

“Jesus Christ, Micha-“ he couldn’t process the events- no sooner had the woman jumped, than her partner went to do the same-

Micha bounded forth to stop them- shot forward like a bolt. She would have made it too, were it not for one stray egg rolling idle along the floor. She saw the little beach ball, but saw it far too late.

Frank watched in horror as she stumbled with a crack and his beautiful child spilled greasy see-through innards all over the ground, instantly fried to a white and orange disk beneath their feet. His second in command slipped on the omelette, completely off balance, her arms a pinwheel blur-

He went to catch her

She toppled off the edge.

There was a flash of silence, before the sickening acrid splash.

#

Not all worlds are born equal, but all worlds are born to die. Demento is in full bloom now, but one day the sun will set, it’s coal fire cool to embers.

The final credits rolled, though Frank had barely paid attention. Hollyoaks, with its particular brand of melodrama, seemed a like crass interlude to the day’s events. Surreal and distracting when he had his own dramas to consider.

Micha.

He closed Demento’s file, the one he should have read before they landed, but didn’t let himself feel guilty for neglecting. Afterall, Micha had not read the file either; otherwise she would have known. When one a new generation is born on the sterile planet down below- the oldest generation are driven to their death. It is a cycle as old as time, a song set in their DNA. Some primal instinct sent to serenade them to the grave. Like plants drawn to light… moths pulled to a flame. Their time is up. From fire they are birthed, and in lava they remain.

It is the natural order of things, and thus not her place to interfere.

By trying to save the bewildered pensioner, Micha was in fact in breach of protocol number 1. Frank felt a smile. Yes, Micha was even more wrong than him. He only broke protocols 2 and 3.

[angelicwritingoflesilva]

Thursday, Lots of Stuff!

this is a story! If you want to read more about it, check earlier posts!

;u; Tomorrow, the plot will be finalized, I’ll post accurate color references of the characters, and I’ll begin the first draft. Saturday, the first draft will be finished, and, Sunday, the final story will come out! Very hyped for my first short story!

Without further ado, take a look at what I’ve been doing today!

What is this planet that the story takes place on?

The main setting of the story is the Oilcean, dubbed so by many oil tycoons from the main colony of Earth. It is called so because it is rich in oil (and diamonds!) and is covered mainly in a deep ocean. Dangerous creatures lurk in the depths, and an only an estimated 7% of it has been successfully charted. 

The planet used to be ice-cold, in fact. Filled with tall mountains and seemingly endless crags, it seemed cold and inhospitable. However, a meteor struck the planet millions of years ago, knocking it slightly off of its axis. Because of this, it has been growing closer and closer to the sun for millions of years. The ice and snow melted, creating a massive ocean that covered all but the tallest of peaks. Underneath all of this immense pressure, diamonds crystallized at the bottom of the ocean. Creatures were trapped under the landslides that resulted from the melting of the snow and ice, resulting in oil and coal later.

Humans that inhabit this planet live on large, robotic island-like boats. They act like a city and move too slowly across the ocean to even tell that they are moving at all. Hundreds of thousands of people can inhabit just one.

Recently, due to a large influx in pirate ships, the planet has been closed off to human visitors. The ones already there, however, were not forced to move. This makes the planet the perfect opportunity for the rich to get richer. Many large oil/diamond manufacturers bribe their way onto the planet, to farm the goods that not many others can. The ultra-rich also like to take vacations to these “closed-off” planets, pretending that, because they have so much money, they are above the law.

What is the slave ship looking for, and why are slaves needed? What does the ship look like?

The planet that the ship is located on is rich in diamonds and oil. However, it is cheaper to farm the diamonds rather than the oil.

The first job is net-casting. An ultra-thin piece of wire, at the bottom of which contains what appears to be a round, hard ball. Throwing the immensely heavy ball over the ship takes at least 9-12 slaves. Once it rests at the bottom of the ocean, the ball explodes into a large net, weighed down by hefty iron balls. The ship is then rowed forward, typically done by 50-75 slaves (rowers). Once it is too difficult to row any longer, the ship is stopped, and 150-200 slaves have to haul the net out from the depths of the ocean, using a feeding device that rolls the net up. However, the device breaks easily, so the slaves have to rely on their strength.

Slaves below deck work on cleaning and polishing the stone (caretakers). They are typically looked down upon by other slaves, since their work requires very little labor and they get to be shielded from the blazing sun all day.

Some of the easier jobs include cooking, cleaning, and deck dog. A cook is what they sound like--they make food for the other slaves. Cleaners help keep the below decks meticulous and check for rats (which may be served in the slave’s meals). A deck dog is a slave that cleans up the deck above ground, scrubbing out the salt with an expensive mineral mixture. If one of them fails at their duty, it becomes instantly noticeable, as the wood begins to warp and rot within the week.

You can see an image of what a bird’s eye view of the deck would look like.

The ship is split into three levels--above deck, slave’s level, and crew’s level. Above deck is where all the work happens. Days are typically 70-80 degrees, although they can reach a sweltering 103. Burns and sweating are the marks of a slave who works above deck. They also have the most casualties. Many slavers are located above deck, so between them, heat stroke, and easy suicide by drowning, many die above deck.

Slave’s level is split into three areas, the most spacious of which is the cafeteria. Slaves are served two meals a day, breakfast and dinner. Breakfast tends to be more filling, so they work better throughout the day. Common dishes are soup with some type of rat and/or fish that was caught up in the net, bread and water stirred in with lard, or pickled meat. Dinner is usually just a hard and moldy crust of bread.

The second area is where the diamonds are refined into sellable gems. The slaves in this area are either lucky (being assigned to wash the diamonds) or skilled (being assigned refinery tools after being determined as “skilled”). The diamonds are then carried above deck to a storage section, where they are left to dry in the sun.

The final, and smallest area, is the slave’s quarters. There aren’t even any beds, just rows of wooden rectangles with crudely cut slits into them, each meant for a slave. When someone gets sick, they are forced out of the room by the slaves, so they can prevent themselves from getting sick.

Slavers

The slavers are all natives from the Oilcean, supposedly the ancient remnants of some advanced deep-sea dweller. Their eyes hang from their face in muscular tubes, which make their eyesight incredibly versatile. Their skin is gray, veiny and wrinkly. A permanent, yellow-toothed grin stretches on their face. When they move, their skin makes the sound of tanned leather slowly settling into new positions.

Cruel by nature, the slavers enjoy their jobs immensely. Of course, the money that they “earn” is also a bonus. They know the limits of pain, madness, and torture, and how to push a person to it. 

Typically, slave ships stick to themselves. Occasionally, they will band together to take down an enemy or a large ship full of valuables. However, no alliance has been known to last.

Species found as slaves on the ship

There are three main species that work on the slave ship. The most common, Frog Men, are strong, Neanderthal-like, and subdued. They’re stupid, to put it bluntly, but are strong and capable throughout 75% of their lives (from 6-55 ish [lifespan: up to 80 years, but if taken care of, can live up to 250+ years]). However, since their intelligence is lacking, they have to be monitored almost throughout the day, since they simply forget what they are doing and wander off. They are generally subdued and keep to themselves.

They work mainly as the heavy lifters, transporting diamonds between levels on the ships and casting/lifting the nets. They are fed the best out of all of the slaves, since their work is considered the most important. Not many slaves are resentful of this, because, one, the Frog Men are peaceful and innocent. They don’t ever pick fights. Two, they do not want their jobs.

Frog Men are usually found in the rapidly decreasing swamps on the Oilcean. Because swamps are gradually becoming smaller and smaller, wars and fights for food often occur on their remaining land. This makes many Frog Men willingly go to slave ships, since they will no longer have to fight their own kind. That is why most Frog Men found onboard are gentle, quiet spirits.

The next most common are the humans. Humans are known for their adaptability and unpredictability. Many consider them to have easily “breakable” spirits, since they seem to lose hope far faster than other slaves captured. Because of this and their intelligence, their work is highly appreciated. They are also found in almost every slave market circle in existence.

However, they have a short “use” span, are delicate compared to the other two species on board, and, because of their intelligence, have a tendency to attempt escapes and overthrows. This leads to their high mortality rate. Despite Frog Men making up most of the slaves, humans make up more than 50% of the deaths on board.

The least common species are avians. Avians are bird-like people who inhabit the scattered islands around the Oilcean. They aren’t prevalent onboard ships, since most that are captured are sent to the mainland to work as household slaves, since they are considered gorgeous.

Generally, they are sweet to their friends. A long time ago, they were flighty and generally nervous, but, because of humans taking their islands to drill for oil, they have become war-like and tough. They stay away from fights when they can, but no longer flee when the time comes to do battle.

Although they are grouped under one name, Avians, they vary drastically from place to place. Different island chains can have different governments, cultures, and religions, as well as different-appearing birds.

The navy thingy

Has finally got a name! It’s now: Navy of the Oilcean, more commonly referred to as N.O.T.O (each letter pronounced as its name). It was created to combat the growing pirate threat. The ranks follow (basically) as follows:

Cadet - Enrolled in military school. 

Freshie - Lowest actual ranking, typically perform labor such as cleaning, cooking, and repairing.

Soldier - Able to go on rescue teams, although they typically see little action

Senior soldier - Front linesmen. Experienced and smart.

Captain - Leader of rescue missions, although they do not plan them.

Senior captain - Can do any of the above, and also searches the ocean via satellite images for slave ships.

Counsel member - Five positions only. Make the bigger decisions for N.O.T.O, and green-light senior captain planned expeditions.

Master Seafarer - Two positions only. Oversees everyone. Capable of firing counsel members and doing any of the above.

Mainly humans are in N.O.T.O, although a few Avians have joined the ranks. (Frog Men are “too unpredictable” to accept into N.O.T.O)

New character!

Ta’hua is an avian, modeled after a blue and gold macaw. He is a deck dog on the ship, and has become close friends to Sterling. His mother taught him some words in English, and Sterling knows a bit of Avian (although it is not in his island chain’s dialect), so, between both of that, they can communicate.

Before he was captured, he was an anxious, squeamish avian. He was scared of everything and never strayed far from his mother’s side

Plot brainstorm

All I know atm is that the story is going to begin with one of Sterling’s “hosts” dying, and going to end with him in a hospital

Armor

The armor pictured above is worn by soldiers in N.O.T.O. The armor pictured in the large image on the left is worn underneath what is known as nano-armor. It is mainly traditional armor, with a hard helmet, breastplate, knee guards, and flexible pants and arm armor. There is a respirator to supply extra oxygen to the fighter, allowing them to remain active without getting out of breath. It is also can be used underwater, much like an oxygen tank.

However, the armor that takes the most damage is called nano-armor. The armor is white, and acts almost like a liquid. Millions of robots, contained in a button on the helmet of the armor worn underneath the nano armor, form the armor. A power core, located on the back of the under armor, powers the nanobots. They can shape and mold around the user’s body, and also have different weapon forms. From swords to guns, they can form basically anything. However, when creating a tool, nanobots are rushed to that site, and away from where they were protecting, causing weak spots in the armor.

Concept art from earlier!

https://sta.sh/2jgffibjbv7

Pretty inaccurate color sketches--will update with (even worse) digital art tomorrow!

Heh, yeah, these aren’t really close to the colors I wanted. Although, you probably get the basic idea. Nonetheless, a better image will come out tomorrow, along with the finalized plot!

TL DR; there are bird, frog and creepy angler fish-lookin’ people native to the planet. humans are greedy and want the ocean’s resources and buy their way in. pirates hunt ships on the sea/islands to get slaves for themselves or to sell. the slave ships have awful conditions. Ta’hua is a bird person and is an anxious wreck.

I am posting this at 11:53 and am too tired to check for spelling/grammar/writing mistakes, I’m pretty sure I said however like 100 times, but whatever