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terramythos · 4 years ago

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TerraMythos' 2020 Reading Challenge - Book 27 of 26

Title: How Long ‘Til Black Future Month? (2018)

Author: N. K. Jemisin

Genre/Tags: Short Story Collection, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Horror, Dystopia, Magical Realism, Steampunk, Cyberpunk, Post-Apocalyptic, Female Protagonist(s), LGBT Protagonist(s).

Rating: 8/10 (Note: This is an average of all the stories -- see below the cut for individual story blurbs/ratings).

Date Began: 9/27/2020

Date Finished: 10/4/2020

I really liked this collection! Jemisin wrote my favorite fanstasy/scifi series ever with The Broken Earth trilogy, and I really enjoyed her recent novel The City We Became. I was in the mindset for shorter fiction so decided to read this collection of short stories. Of these 22 stories, my absolute favorites (9/10 or higher) were:

The City Born Great - 10/10

The Effluent Engine - 9/10

Cloud Dragon Skies - 9/10

The Trojan Girl -10/10

Valedictorian - 9/10

The Evaluators - 10/10

Stone Hunger - 9/10

The Narcomancer - 9/10

Too Many Yesterdays, Not Enough Tomorrows - 9/10

Sinners, Saints, Dragons, and Haints, in the City Beneath the Still Waters - 9/10

A more detailed summary/reaction to each story under the cut. WARNING: IT’S LONG.

1. Those Who Stay and Fight - 8/10

Describes a utopia called Um-Helat that exists solely because no one is seen as superior or inferior to anyone else. Over time we learn it's a future, or potential future, of America. But America today is pure anathema to it due to rampant structural inequality. In order to achieve its utopian ideal, Um-Helatians have to root out and destroy people corrupted by the past.

This story was apparently written as a tribute/response to the Ursula K. Le Guin story “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”. I first read this without context, then went and read the Le Guin story. I definitely see the parallels. Both feature a narrator describing a wonderful utopia in the midst of festival, trying to convince the reader of the place's existence, before introducing something dark that is the price of the utopia. In the Le Guin story, the utopia exists at the price of the horrible misery and suffering of one child, and everyone is aware of it. Most live with it, but a few leave for the unknown rather than continue to live there (hence the title). In Jemisin's story, the price is instead the annihilation of those tainted by exposure to the evils of the past. The choice, instead of leaving, is for those tainted yet capable to become protectors of the new world, or die.

The thesis is pretty clear: that only by abandoning horrible ideologies and refusing to give them any ground or quarter can a utopian society truly exist. I will say that rings clear, especially when one considers Naziism and fascism. Not all ideologies deserve the light of day or debate, and even entertaining them as valid allows it to take hold. I liked this story, though it comes off as a social justice essay more than a story in and of itself.

2. The City Born Great - 10/10

This one is told from the perspective of a homeless young black man who feels a strange resonance with New York City. He meets a mysterious figure named Paulo, who tells him the city is about to be born as a full-fledged entity, and the man has been chosen to assist with its birth. However, there’s an eldritch force known simply as The Enemy that seeks to prevent this from happening.

I've read this one before since it's the prologue to The City We Became. And honestly it was one of my favorite parts of that book. New York City is a phenomenal character. I love that the proto-avatar of NYC is a young homeless black man, one of the most denigrated groups out there. Cops being the harbingers of eldritch destruction is... yeah. It was fun to reread this. The ending is a little different, because in the novel, something goes terribly wrong that doesn't happen in this short story. There is also a flash forward where he is, apparently, about to awaken the avatar of Los Angeles. Makes me wonder if that is ultimately the endgame of the series. But otherwise it's the same thing with absolutely phenomenal character voice and creativity regarding cities as living creatures. I'm glad Jemisin expanded this idea into a full series.

3. Red Dirt Witch - 7/10

Takes place before the (1960s) Civil Rights Movement in Pratt City, AL. The main character is Emmaline, a witch with three kids. A creepy figure called The White Lady comes to visit and steal one of her children.

I love the little twist that The White Lady is a faerie. And the different take on rowan/ash/thorn instead being rosemary/sage/sycamore fig. There is a lot of touching bits about the horrible trials and human rights abuses during the Civil Rights marches (which are unfortunately all too relevant still), but ultimately a hopeful glimpse of the future of black people in America, though hard-won.

4. L'Alchimista - 6/10

Stars a Milanese master chef named Franca, who fell from glory for Reasons, who now works as head chef at a run-down inn. She feeds a mysterious stranger, who then challenges her to fix a seemingly impossible recipe.

This one was fun and charming. I thought the food (and magical food) descriptions were very vibrant and interesting, especially the last meal. I can tell this is an earlier story and it's pretty light hearted, but I enjoyed it. It felt like it needed a little more of.. something.

5. The Effluent Engine - 9/10

In an interesting steampunk take, Haitian spy Jessaline comes to the city of New Orleans to meet one of its foremost scientists. Her goal is to find a viable, unique energy source to strengthen Haiti in a world that wants to see her nation dead.

I really liked this; it's one of the longer stories so there's more time for character development and worldbuilding. And it's gay. I'm not hugely into pure steampunk because a lot of it comes off as very... samey (hyper Eurocentric/Victorian, etc) but I thought this take was fresh.

Like much of Jemisin's work, there is a lot of racial under and overtones; this one specifically goes into the terrible atrocities committed against the Haitians during their Revolution, and the varied social classes of black/Creole people in New Orleans at the time. A lot of this is stuff I was unaware of or knew very little about. I thought it was interesting to bring all of these to the forefront in a steampunk story in addition to the dirigibles, clockwork, action, and subterfuge. Also, everything tries together in a very satisfying way by the end (the rum bottle!), which I love in short fiction.

6. Cloud Dragon Skies - 9/10

Takes place in a post-apoc future where some humans evacuated to space while others stayed behind and took on more indigenous traditions to heal the Earth. The sky has suddenly turned red on Earth, and some representatives from the "sky-people" come to study it and figure out why.

I really enjoyed this little story; fantasy/scifi fusions are my jam, but science fiction specifically told through a fantasy lens is just so cool to me. The cloud dragons were very interesting and imaginative. Also, I love how the opening statement's meaning isn't particularly clear until you read the whole thing.

7. The Trojan Girl - 10/10

This one is about sentient computer programs/viruses that struggle to survive in something called the Amorph, which is basically a more advanced, omnipresent version of the Internet.

Holy fucking shit was this a cool story. Probably the coolest take on cyberpunk I've ever read. The main character Moroe has formed a messed up little family of creatures like him who live and hunt in Amorph's code, but can upload to "the Static" (real life) if needed by hijacking human hosts. The way this is described is so damn creepy and unsettling. I love that while they're anthropomorphized, the characters are mostly feral and compared to a pack of wolves. Soooo much wolf pack imagery. And the ending is so fucking good and imaginative.

This was apparently a proof of concept story that Jemisin decided not to adapt to a longer series, which I'm kind of sad about, but it was REALLY cool nevertheless. The next story is apparently in the same universe and serves as the "conclusion".

8. Valedictorian - 9/10

This one is about a girl who is, well, top of her class in high school, and the stresses that mount as graduation approaches. But while it seems like a familiar setup, there is something decidedly Off about everything, which is revealed gradually over the course of the story.

I originally gave this an 8, but honestly I couldn't stop thinking about it so I boosted it to a 9. It doesn’t become clear how this connects to the previous story until the midpoint. I liked this one because it functions as a nice dystopian science fiction story but also biting social commentary on the modern American education system. I'm not going go say more on it because spoilers. While I personally like the first story more I think this is an interesting followup/conclusion with a more cerebral approach.

9. The Storyteller's Replacement - 6/10

This one's presented as a traditional "once upon a time" fable told by a storyteller narrator, about a shitty despotic king named Paramenter. Desperate to prove his virility, he eats the heart of a dragon, which is said to be a cure-all for impotence. It's successful, but the six strange daughters that result seem to have plans of their own.

Not really my cup of tea-- it's pretty fucked up. But it's definitely cathartic by the end, which I appreciate, and I do like how creepy the daughters are.

10. The Brides of Heaven - 5/10

Framed as an interrogation in an offworld colony called Illiyin, in which a terrible accident occurred on the way that left all the adult men dead. Dihya, who lost her only son to an alien parasite, is caught trying to sabotage the colony's water supply for reasons unknown.

I like some things in this story. I love the trope of alien biology affecting human biology in unexpected ways. I'm not terribly familiar with Islam but thought it added an interesting faith vs practicality vs tradition element to the science fiction. However I found the sexual body horror REALLY squicky which turned me off the story as a whole.

11. The Evaluators - 10/10

Stylized as a collection of logs and excerpts from a First Contact team of humans visiting and studying a sapient alien species to potentially set up trade relations. There's a focus on one team member named Aihua and her conversations with one of the aliens, but there's miscellaneous important hints/excerpts from the survey that hint Something Creepy Is Going On.

This one was BIZARRE and took me two reads to fully appreciate, but it’s a great work of nontraditional science fiction horror. Just... the epitome of "*nervous laughter* 'what the fuck'". I can't say more without spoiling but dear lord. That whole Jesus bit hits different on a second read. Fucking hell.

12. Walking Awake - 7/10

Takes place in a dystopian society in which parasitic creatures known as Masters keep a small number of humans alive to be flesh suits for them, which they take over and trade around at will. The main character Sadie is a human "caretaker" responsible for propagandizing and raising well-bred human children that eventually become the Masters' hosts. She starts to have disturbing dreams when one takes over the body of a teenage boy she was particularly attached to.

This is apparently a response to Robert Heinlein's The Puppet Masters, which I have never read. It's a full damn novel so I probably won't. Google tells me it's about parasitic aliens, but was obviously also Red Scare paranoia about communist Russia. The argument in the Jemisin story is that the parasites are a result of human folly in an attempt to punish/control people their creators didn't like. This went poorly and resulted in the whole world being taken over.

The story itself is disturbing since the victims are innocent children, but it's ultimately about standing up and taking the first step toward revolution. I felt pretty neutral about the story itself; perhaps I would have liked it more if it was longer and I had more time with the world and protagonist. I wanted to connect to Sadie and her maternal relationship the boy who got killed more. Or maybe it's more impactful if you're familiar with the Heinlein novel and can see the nods/digs.

13. The Elevator Dancer - 7/10

A very short story that takes place in a Christian fundamentalist surveillance state. The protagonist is an unnamed security guard who occasionally sees a woman dancing alone in the elevator and obsesses over her.

I like this one but I'm not sure if I really get it. It's heavily implied the dancer is a hallucination, and the narrator gets "re-educated" but it's all a little ambiguous. I think it's about the struggle to find meaning and inspiration in an oppressive world.

14. Cuisine des Mémoires - 8/10

This one's about a man named Harold who visits a strange restaurant that claims it can replicate any meal from any point in history. He orders a meal which his ex-wife, whom he still loves very much, fixed for him years ago.

This one was certainly different, but I really like the idea of food-as-memory, especially because that's an actual thing. This story just takes it to an extra level. Honestly this story made me feel things... the longing of memory and missed connections/opportunities. Jemisin did a great job with emotion on this one.

15. Stone Hunger - 9/10

Stars a girl in with the ability to manipulate the earth who's tracking down a man she senses in an unfamiliar city. It's heavily implied the world is in a perpetual post-apocalyptic state. When she's caught damaging the outer wall of the city to break in and injured/imprisoned, she's aided by a mysterious, humanoid statue creature with motives of its own.

I have to say it's really interesting to see an early beta concept of The Broken Earth. Orogeny is a little different (and not named)-- there's some kind of taste component to it? Though that's possibly unique to the main character? While hatred of orogenes exists I don't think it's a structural exploitation allegory at this point. Ykka + proto-Castrima existing this early is pretty funny to me. People also use metal, which is VERY funny if you’ve read the series. But I was thrilled to see stone eaters were Very Much A Thing this early and almost exactly how they appear in the series (a little more sinister I guess. At least the one in this story is. I think he basically gets integrated into the Steel/Gray character in the final version).

Anyway as a huge fan of The Broken Earth it's inspiring to see these early ideas and just how much got changed. It's hard for me to look at this as an independent story without the context of the series. I think I'd like it due to the creative setting and strange concepts, but I appreciate the final changes to narrative style and worldbuilding, which really made the series for me.

16. On The Banks of the River Lex - 8/10

Death explores a decaying, post-human version of New York City. He and various deities/ideas created by humans are all that survives in the future and they struggle to exist in the crumbling infrastructure of the city. But Death gradually observes new and different creatures developing amid the wreckage.

I liked this! Despite a typically bleak premise the story is very optimistic and hopeful for the future of the world post-humanity. I like anthropomorphized concepts/deities/etc in general. I thought the imagery of decay and life was gorgeous. Also octopuses are cool.

17. The Narcomancer - 9/10

Told from the perspective of Cet, a priest known as a Gatherer, who can take the life of someone through their dreams in order to bring them peace. When a village petitions his order to investigate a series of raids conducted by brigands using forbidden magic, Cet joins the party. However, he is troubled by his growing attraction to a strong-willed woman of the village.

This apparently takes place in the Dreamblood universe, which I have not read and know nothing about. However, I really enjoyed this story. It's the longest in the collection so I felt I really got to know the characters. The dream-based religion and fantasy was captivating to learn about. It was also romantic as hell, but not in the typical way you’d expect. I thought the central conflict of a priest struggling between an oath of celibacy and his duty to do the right thing (bring peace to someone who needs it) was fascinating.

18. Henosis - 4/10

A short piece, told anachronistically, about a lauded, award winning author on the way to an award ceremony. He gets kidnapped, but there's Something Else going on.

Honestly I get the sense this one is personal, lol. I will say I like the disturbing play on expectations, but I didn't connect much with it otherwise.

19. Too Many Yesterdays, Not Enough Tomorrows - 9/10

Follows a group of bloggers who have found themselves caught in isolated quantum loops. Their only human contact is through tenuous online conversations with each other. Styled as various chat logs and emails interspersed with the thoughts and perspectives of Helen, a young black woman who before the loop was teaching English in Japan.

This one is real depressing and definitely Social Commentary (TM). The central thesis about loneliness and disconnect at the end made me pretty dang sad. Good stuff in an ouch kind of way and made me think.

20. The You Train - 6/10

Told from the perspective of an unnamed narrator talking (presumably on the phone) to a friend about her struggles adjusting to life in New York City. She regularly mentions seeing train lines that either don't exist or retired a long time ago.

This is the kind of story I'd normally really like. I think trains are interesting and like vaguely supernatural, inexplicable shit. The one-sided phone call is also an interesting narrative device. But I'm not sure I really got this one. It comes off as vaguely horror-y but also optimistic? I couldn't really figure this one out, and it was too short to feel much investment on top of that.

21. Non-Zero Probabilities - 7/10

Luck has gone completely out of whack in New York City. Highly improbable events suddenly become way more likely, both good and bad. This story follows a woman named Adele and coming to grips with the new ways of life this brings.

I liked this one well enough but I don't have a lot to say about it. I liked how the story looks at how people would adapt to a life where probability doesn't mean anything anymore.

22. Sinners, Saints, Dragons, and Haints, in the City Beneath the Still Waters - 9/10

A magical realism story about a man named Tookie struggling to survive in New Orleans in the immediate aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He meets a talking, winged lizard and the two help each other out. But it soon becomes clear there is something sinister lurking in the flooded ruins of the city.

This story was very imaginative and a great cap to the collection. I thought it was an intriguing time period to set a magical realism story in. I love the little details, especially those of omission -- the "lizard" is never called a dragon, for example. I can see echoes of this story in The City We Became, especially the themes of cities as powerful entities, vague eldritch fuckery centered around hatred, and certain people being guardians of the city.

#2020 reading challenge #BONUS ROUND #taylor reads #8/10 #i am posting this Late but i was basically writing this review as i read so it's like. all done lol

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raven-blood-13 · 5 years ago

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Finally finished this massive time sink. I’ve had this half painted sitting around fro probably a year now. Finally had the motivation to finish this and talk about Alex. Alex has been a character floating around in my gallery randomly as essentially a character I use when I want to do some very self indulgent stuff. Decided to sit down and actually make a full design for him and a general monster form as well. Though his monster form here is subject to change with my whims tbh. Next I’ll get to designing Mary, his assistant and gf now that I’m actually happy with this piece.

In short, Alex fits the trope of a scientist who in his kindness ends up fucking himself up. He was working on something that could enhance healing in humans, to regrow tissue quickly along with the general scifi nonesense type stuff for helping people. The whole thing was a lot of money, and Alex most results and tests hidden from the people under him while the people above him were pushing him to get things done quicker and quicker. Everyone else was relegated to regular researching and tests on other products, while the real important money sink was to be worked on Alex and his assistant Mary. Animal tests were showing promise, but the regeneration had a high tendency to create extra limbs/tumors/etc. Eventually Alex was given an ultimatum, start human testing and show the product could have true use, or have funding pulled from himself and everyone under him would suddenly be out of the job with no idea why. Alex is smart, but that crumbles under pressure, and he felt that giving something to paid participants with no idea what was being tested was something he just couldn’t do. Instead, opting to use it on himself. This went fine at first. A test slicing his own arm, healed, though it bubbled and scarred, but it healed in minutes. Increased hunger and some odd aches didn’t seem like enough of a side effect to worry. Everything was on track until he revealed he hadn’t used any other subjects other than himself. When a one sided fight broke out between him and management, the stress and physical damage started to change him entirely. Mutating wildly. He still has much of his mind like this, and can eventually transform back, but more damage and stress only agitates and creates more uncontrolled changes. I could go more in depth with this, but I worry this is all too long for my essentially big o’ scientist turned monster trope story that is meant for fun. Alex and his reasons for mutation along with his story has many AUs for whatever I’m feeling at the time, but this will be the base.

Mary will have her own blurb when I pin down her design, but she is someone that keeps Alex grounded, when human and not. And also truly doesn’t mind the biological changes he goes through much at all.

Since tumblr no longer lets you make ‘read more’s I’ll make a separate post of just the painting’s I guess.

#art #monster #body horror #oc #alex #mad scientist #i guess #claws #mutation #mutant #tentacles #eyes #muscle

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raisingsupergirl · 3 years ago

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Daydreaming, Insomnia Adventures, and Some Incoherent Rambling

Well, I asked for it. “I’m tired of the same old things,” I said. “I want to experience something new and go on an adventure!” Let me just tell you, if you want an adventure, try jumping into the housing market right now. It’s been a whirlwind. Every day brings some new curveball. And we’re still in the middle of it. But despite all of the unknowns, we still have a contract on our dream home. And we have a closing date. Which means, despite the plethora of events and to-dos that should be exhausting my brain and resulting in some amazing sleep lately, I’ve gotten in the habit of staying up half the night daydreaming (I guess that’s not QUITE the right word…) about what my life will look like in a few months.

Yesterday was my oldest daughter’s birthday. She turned seven. It’s crazy. And like every other year, she awoke to Mommy and Daddy singing happy birthday and dumping balloons all over her (though I think they’ve actually been balls some years). The smile on her face was priceless. In that moment, she was the most important and most loved person in the world. She didn’t have to know that I’ve gotten less than five hours of broken sleep the past three nights. She didn’t have to know that my heart was breaking because I had to go to work and miss the day of fun they had planned. She didn’t have to know that my thoughts were (are?) scrambled and my schedule is packed with a thousand little stressful things. All she needed to know is that Mommy and Daddy love her more than life itself. And that makes everything worth it for me.

The other day, I shared with my wife how I’d been up all night just thinking about “stuff.” She said that’s where Annabel (our three—soon to be four—year-old) must get it, because there are some nights when she just refuses to sleep. At first, my heart sank, because I wouldn’t wish my poor sleep habits on anyone. But before bed last night, Annabel said, “And it’s cwazy dat when I watch fwee of Avewy’s faiwy shows, it makes me have faiwy dweams” (I’m not interpreting for you. If you can’t understand toddler speech, you wouldn’t really appreciate the translation, anyway). And her simple little statement reminded me of something: I haven’t been sleepless because I’m anxious. I’m sleepless because I’m EXCITED. Sunday night, between the hours of ten and two, I framed up my office in my new shop, drywalled it, installed the wiring, plumbing, and HVAC, and once I had it all painted and decorated, I started in on the loft above it and the wet bar on the other side of the shop. It was quite a night.

You see, I’m a night owl. The nocturnal hours are when my creative energies come alive. And while that doesn’t usually mesh well with waking up at 5:45 a.m. to work out, I’m not about to complain about the best things in my life. No, I’ll praise them. I’ll complain about being tired, sure. But I’m so incredibly fortunate right now. My work’s grand opening went off without a hitch last week, as did my last Freemason meeting. The girls and I picked ALL the blueberries last Saturday on our annual Liberty Farms outing, and we spent that night playing board games thanks to an unexpected power outage. This Saturday, we’ll celebrate Annabel’s birthday and Independence Day out at my brother’s house. Fried fish, a swimming pool, fireworks, and family. It doesn’t get much better. And we’ll also be a little closer to selling our house, a little closer to buying our new one. I’ll be a little closer to jumping back into edits on my novel, a little closer to catching up with friends and talking “shop” at Realm Makers (the best scifi/fantasy writing conference in the country), and a little closer to making Desloge Sports & Rehab a local household name when it comes to physical therapy.

I wish I had more bandwidth to gush on my little girls right now as they each turn a year older. I wish my neurons were firing strong enough to brag on my wife, who acts as the mortar to my bricks as we build a life for our family. I wish I could remember and thank everyone who’s supporting us right now (my mom, real estate agent, banker, boss, work family, church, etc., etc.). But honestly, at the moment, I’m just enjoying the experience, riding the wave of craziness, taking mental snapshots of every awesome day, and pushing that “You’re not doing enough” voice so far into the ground that it’ll never find its way back out. Oh, and I’m praying for a good night’s sleep tonight. Yeah, that’s probably at the top of the to-do list. ZZZZzzzz….

#insomnia #sleep deprivation #thankful #adventure #birthdays #7th birthday #4th birthday #independence day #momblr #dadblr #mumblr

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maychorian · 7 years ago

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Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #46

Yeah, it’s been more than a week. Hush now and enjoy the super ridiculously long list of recs. I made this for you.

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

A Long Time Ago (We Used To Be Friends) by Mikiri Words: 32,580 Author’s Summary: Originally Keith was supposed to have been Shiro’s copilot for the Kerberos Mission. They bonded over the thought of being on a mission together. But that all fell down the drain when something was found wrong with his blood. The fall out of the mission failure changed Keith forever. My Comments: Really interesting idea for an AU, and the story did such a good job of building up the team of Matt, Sam, Keith, and Shiro that it hurt like the dickens to have that all torn away in the end.

Lay To Waste by Demenior, wrecked_anon Words: 41,303 Author’s Summary: What was meant to be a simple mission— make contact with the Rebellion and form an alliance— goes horribly awry. Now the team is split up, the Galra are invading, and Shiro’s past may prove to be their greatest adversary yet. OR When you have skeletons in your closet, you hope they stay dead. My Comments: I’ve read and recced stories in this series before, so I knew before I read it that it was going to be amazing, but also have moments of pretty awful horror that I would have to steel myself for. And that’s completely true. The worldbuilding is fantastic, and this author always does such a great job of making Voltron feel like SCIFI, rather than a space fantasy, which is cool. The aliens are so ALIEN, and the new cultures and characters you meet are all so fascinating and so well-conceptualized. It’s just great, great stuff, but yeah, brace yourself from some horrific scenes.

of beasts and men by nowweareunstoppable Words: 14,430 (½) Author’s Summary: (werewolves & ghouls & witches, oh my!) It hurt, but it hurt like a lightning strike must; so powerful that the pain of it is overshadowed by the sheer momentum of the act. She was an explosion, but instead of coming apart, she was converging again into something more than the previous sum of her parts. Pidge came back with the taste of copper on her tongue and panic pulsing inside of her. My Comments: Absolutely fabulous urban fantasy AU with Pidge stumbling in far over her head and werewolf Shiro sacrificing just about everything to save her. Action-packed, edge-of-the-seat thrill ride. I want the rest really bad.

Hazy by haleyislametbh Words: 2,102 Author’s Summary: Some days, Lance’s ADHD doesn’t seem to bother him much. Today is not one of those days. My Comments: This feels really in-character, though it’s not my particular headcanon. Great stuff.

Try Everything by oldmythologies Words: 1,510 Author’s Summary: In which Lance believes that anything is a lullaby if you sing it soft enough <3 My Comments: Shance hinted at the end but reads platonic to me. Really sweet modern AU in which Lance doesn’t know his roommate Shiro very well, but still tries to gently sing him awake when he has a nightmare.

See The Light by itbepansam Words: 1,591 Author’s Summary: The team escapes from a dangerous mission and after one of the team members gets hurt, they decide to all form a huge cuddle pile My Comments: Cuddle piles are always good.

Build on Shaky Ground by Engineer104 Words: 3,337 Author’s Summary: Sometimes Lance dangles the carrot of friendship in front of Pidge’s face; sometimes Pidge refuses to take a bite For Pidge Ship Week, Day 1: Trust Comments: Tagged as possible romantic Plance but can be read platonic. I like fics that treat platonic relationships with all the depth and complexities of romantic relationships. A lot. Nothing is really resolved at the end of this one, but you can see the threads of friendship starting to be woven between them, and that’s beautiful.

Dirt and Dried Blood by hufflepirate Words: 14,637 Author’s Summary: Coran doesn’t know exactly what happened out there. He just knows the other paladins brought the princess back bloody and half-dead. Allura remembers being left behind, but she doesn’t remember making it home. Sometimes getting back on your feet requires a little more than a healing pod, but they both know he’s going to be there for her every step of the way. My Comments: Absolutely fabulous fic centered on characters who don’t get nearly enough attention. Great hurt/comfort scenes, great emotions, great characterization and backstory. A pleasure to read from start to finish.

Triumph or Death by ashitanoyuki for Wisttic Words: 3,562 Author’s Summary: Haxus did not die when he fell from the generator room catwalk. His survival presents an opportunity to gather useful information for the Galra Empire. My Comments: Great outsider perspective on the crew, and it even had me rooting for Haxus, at least his survival. Fun read.

Prison Toys by PastelClark Words: 3,452 Author’s Summary: When the mission crew of Shirogane, Holt, Holt, and McClain doesn’t come back from Kerberos, the world decides their ship crashed. Pidge decides it’s all bullshit.She’s not the only one. (In which Pidge lives inside her own head, Lance’s older sister was the fourth Kerberos crew member, everyone has something to lose, and no one is handling this well.) My Comments: Heartbreaking, but fascinating look at how Lance and Pidge’s dynamic changes when he’s dealing with loss, too. They both want to get to space so, so badly, yet they seem to work at cross purposes much of the time.

Starting to Unwind by HapaxLegomenon Words: 1,331 Author’s Summary: “We decided,” Lance says, “that you need a day off.” Shiro immediately stiffens. “We don’t have time –” “Yes we do,” Pidge says firmly. “We already cleared it with the Princess and Coran – who said it was a great idea, by the way – so no training, no leader-ing, no worrying, just relax and let us take care of you for once, okay?” Or; Shiro works too hard, and the other paladins encourage him to take a break. My Comments: Aw, everyone taking care of Shiro is so sweet.

Existing by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 6,929 Author’s Summary: It’s not just pain that sweeps into his life uninvited and without ceremony. At first it is. But something else came with it too. Well. Many things. But they’re a mild annoyance. Keith doesn’t like to complain and grumble, so their presence is written off as ghostly. Haunting him from time to time, and that’s as far as he lets the interaction go. Then there’s this. This thing. It made conversations difficult and hard to follow, made words uncomfortable in his mouth. It stripped him of basic comprehension skills at the best of times, sentences on a page clearly there but entirely lost to him. At the worst of times, it strips him of much more than that. Existence at the expense of everything else. My Comments: It doesn’t seem fair, with all of Keith’s canon difficulties, for him to also have to deal with chronic pain. But well, life isn’t fair, is it? That’s part of the point of this fic. The other part is Keith learning to accept support, and the others all being happy to provide it. Achy fic (literally and figuratively) with a great conclusion.

Nesting by isabeau25 Words: 5,635 Author’s Summary: Keith takes a chance on building a permanent nest. The rest of the team approves. My Comments: Part of a very well-realized and adorable wingfic AU. Keith’s nervousness about making something permanent after wandering for his whole life is so palpable and understandable, and everyone’s support is just lovely. A comforting fic, it makes me feel cozy and warm.

Cat in the Sun by isabeau25 Words: 3,048 Author’s Summary: Shiro was just out for a jog. He hadn’t planned on buying a restaurant. My Comments: I didn’t know I needed a platonic coffee shop AU! This was relaxing to read, and the descriptions are idyllic and charming. If I were Shiro, I’d want to buy this run-down property, too. This is the first of a series, and I’m definitely looking forward to more.

Young Blood by Emerald_Ashes Words: 2,268 (1/?) Author’s Summary: Shiro is still missing. A mission in hopes to rescue him go terribly wrong and the team is led into a trap. While they manage to escape, not everyone makes it out unscathed. My Comments: Deaged Keith in Galra form! Lance is a wonderful caretaker already. I’m really looking forward to reading this one as it develops.

Words Fail by EagleInFlight Words: 23,057 (6/?) Author’s Summary: A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance’s mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance’s memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself. My Comments: I really loved the way this fic dealt with Lance’s memories and how the other paladins reacted to them. They all go on a separate little journey with Lance, and it feels very in-character, very emotional and heartwrenching. I’m glad Shiro was there at the time he was, in particular. I’m looking forward to the conclusion a lot.

Reload by Uniasus Words: 9,837 Author’s Summary: Shiro always knew he drew attention as a Galra prisoner, from the soldiers, the other slaves, Zarkon and Haggar. But he never knew the result of it. Now that Black’s refusing to fly with him, Shiro’s determined to figure out what exactly the Galra did. My Comments: Really interesting and well-written Post-Season Three fic that DOESN’T go with the clone hypothesis. I enjoyed all the twists and turns in this one very much. Really great concepts and characterization all around.

Let’s Find The Good We Knew Before by kyanve for Mikiri Words: 6,290 Author’s Summary: By dumb coincidence, Katie ends up witness to Keith’s exit from the Garrison before she’s prepared her identity as Pidge, and decides to get involved. My Comments: Great slight canon divergence fic with Keith and Pidge forming the salty younger sibling team they were always meant to be, just a little quicker than canon. A lot of pain, a lot of heartache there, but they are definitely good for each other.

There’s not such a thing as too many Shiros by RukiaG Words: 1,081 Author’s Summary: Shiro has a clone. That’s something everyone knows and has accepted by now. However, it turns out the Galra made several clones of him, so what will Team Voltron do with all those clones? Adopt them, of course. My Comments: Some adorable crack in which everyone makes plans to adopt a Shiro clone and give them silly names.

Normal by Zurela Words: 6,506 Author’s Summary: Lance and Keith survived isolation on a mysterious planet, but that doesn’t mean everything is automatically okay. Unable to hear and confronted with traumatic memories, Lance and the team do their best to get things back to normal. My Comments: Great follow-up to a previously recced fic. This is some very well done aftermath and recovery. Lance has received a permanent injury, and that’s treated with proper weight, but there’s a lot of hope in there too. And the team is wonderfully supportive. Klance, but everyone gets a lovely moment. I especially loved Allura and Coran. They said some very important stuff. It made me think as well as filling my heart with fuzzy warmth.

Numbers by oldmythologies Words: 1,222 Author’s Summary: Shiro would hate it. He would hate knowing that Keith heard him scream sometimes, that Keith knew that he wasn’t completely okay. He’d feel weak, and he’d hide behind his speeches and his optimism and would be ever more careful about where and when he let himself fall asleep. The cry reaches him from behind the door. It sounds like a child, and god, that child is so afraid. This time, Keith doesn’t hesitate to open the door. My Comments: Sweet and simple fic with Keith comforting Shiro after a nightmare.

The Silly Song by StormySeaWitch Words: 1,605 Author’s Summary: Inspired by Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937) It’s amazing what kinds of odd Earth things you can find in space malls. My Comments: Very cute fic with Team Voltron just having fun together for once. It made me grin like a little kid.

The Phoenix by 00AwkwardPenguin00 Words: 5,543 Author’s Summary: In which Ulaz is furious (and about to be sick), Shiro and Keith are suspicious, Thace is appointed Chief Babysitter (and is a boss at it), and Lance is hungry. AKA the first oneshot of a triple AU that literally nobody asked for. My Comments: This AU is hitting a LOT of my buttons. In a world where some people can shapeshift into animals, all five Voltron kids have been locked up in Haggar’s lab and forced to undergo horrible things. Most of them are deaged to some extent, and they are incredibly frightened and protective of each other. Enter Thace and Ulaz as FBI agents who clean out the lab and take the kids under their protection. I’m really REALLY looking forward to more of this series.

Not a Feather Out of Place by isabeau25 Words: 1,271 Author’s Summary: Shiro needs some help preening his wings, but it’s often times easier said then done. My Comments: Very cute wingfic with Keith and Lance working together to soothe Shiro and provide necessary grooming without setting off his PTSD. They’re so lovely. And it’s the first of a series, so you should probably subscribe now.

Small Comforts by EdgarAllenPoet for KatherineKatie Words: 5,652 Author’s Summary: “You needed rest. I was providing comfort.” My Comments: Wonderful Dads of Marmora fic with the theme of Kolivan grooming Keith in various scenarios. The first two are very fluffy, but the last one is not. It made my heart ache in a good way. A good, good way.

Warmth by bookwormgir1LH Words: 2,226 Author’s Summary: Stranded on an alien planet after a crash, Pidge and Hunk struggle to survive. Cuddle number 6: For warmth My Comments: Sweet and good. Huddling for warmth is always a winner.

The Void Stares Back by aleria Words: 8,210 Author’s Summary: The darkness in front of her was so real, she wanted to reach out and touch it. My Comments: Creepy and atmospheric exploration of a Lovecraftian horror scenario. Pidge just wants to understand, but sometimes you don’t get answers.

Light it Up by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 13,398 Author’s Summary: After the events of Spark to Ignite, Shiro picks up the pieces. My Comments: Fluffy and wonderful aftermath and recovery fic, perfect follow-up to a fic I previously recced. You should read it all, but basically Shiro was locked in the dark for several days and ended up smashing up his prosthetic arm in his (completely justified) panic, so now he has major adjustments to do while Hunk and Pidge figure out a replacement. Plus he’s scared of the dark and feels embarrassed about it. So yeah anyway this fic is perfect and there’s lots of cuddling, I love it. You probably will, too.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Bromances in Space (27976 words) Coran's Guide to the Care and Keeping of Earthling Humans (35293 words) The Ones Who Were Left Behind (52377 words) Defying the Odds (28643 words) As Color Fades Away (149703 words) The Machinations of Perception (55318 words) - now complete Ten Days (64896 words) Taking One For The Team (30581 words) Little Crystals (4511 words) Gate Keeper (95943 words)

#voltron legendary defender #weekly voltron fic recs #fic rec #vldgen

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scripttorture · 7 years ago

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So, I'm writing a SciFi novel where my MC's ship crashes and she gets kidnapped by pirates who try to torture her for information regarding a job she was contracted to do. In the crash, her left side was damaged so the pirates focus a lot on that side, but especially her arm. What are some techniques they could use? My end goal is that when she gets rescued/escapes her arm has to be amputated.

Hmmm well this is goingto partly depend on the medical technology in your setting. Generally modernmedical practice is focused on saving a limb however you can. And doctors arepretty good at that.

To me that implies apretty huge level of damage. Infection or widespread tissue death might beenough to amputate a limb now but sci fi tech might well have an answer tothose problems.

On the other hand a scifi setting with extremely advanced prosthetics might recommend elective amputation oflimbs with hugely reduced mobility on the grounds of improving someone’squality of life. That would probably depend on cultural factors and the cost ofprosthetics as well as how advanced they were.

Essentially I can seefour possible routes that could lead to amputation: massive brute trauma to theentire limb, infection, tissue necrosis and nerve damage. Your setting mightlead you to dismiss infection as an option but it could also mean electiveamputation in cases of serious mobility problems is routine.

I’m going toconcentrate on blunt force trauma and nerve damage as those are things tortureoften does directly. Infection can come from any open wound in an unsterileenvironment, which is essentially her entire situation. Tissue necrosis can bethe result of infection, loss of circulation, low temperatures or oxygendeprivation. That’s not an exhaustive list; it’s the things I think could befactors in your story and the things that commonly overlap with torture. Oxygendeprivation usually doesn’t just affect one limb but if she’s deprived ofoxygen and her wounds have already caused circulation problems to that arm it’sa possible route.

Anything that can bedescribed as ‘blunt force trauma’ is usually scarring.

Cutting, prodding orscouring in the wound seems like an obvious starting point for the kind oftorture you're going for. But I don't think that sort of damage to the muscle,fat and skin would necessarily lead to amputation. At least not withoutinfection and/or tissue necrosis. Instead I think something that causes massivedamage to the bone or the whole limb is a better fit for your scenario.

To me that sayssystematic breaking or crushing or perhaps (if you want to be particularlyunusual and gory) removal of the bone.

Hammers, heavy piecesof metal, vices, heavy air lock doors- those sorts of implements could allcause extremely complicated breaks to the bone. The aim for your purposes isthe cause enough breaks that there isn't enough whole bone left for anorthopedic surgeon to successfully weld together. Complex breaks at the jointsin particular, the wrist and elbow, could easily make the limb much less mobileeven if it could be saved. Repeated blows along the entire limb, even after it'sobviously broken, with attacks concentrated

This particular form oftorture has been around for thousands of years. It's not complicated, itdoesn't require any indepth knowledge and it doesn't require the torturers tohave any knowledge or prior experience of torture.

It's also pretty quick,your character could get the plot-necessary injuries inside an hour. That wouldleave her in need of medical attention so she doesn't die waiting for rescue.What that means is that if you do decide to go this route it's probably best tohave this particular attack happen on the day she's rescued. The pirates areprobably not going to give her life saving emergency treatment and she'sunlikely to live long after that sort of torture without it. Playing it as apirate becoming particularly angry after days or weeks of 'getting nowhere' oras a final 'extreme' attack in a last ditch attempt to 'make her talk' couldwork for the story.

Some sort of crushingimpliment, similar to the leg or thumbscrews used historically is anotherpotential approach that could be spaced over a much longer period. It would bedependant on the pirates either having or being able to easily make some formof crushing device.

This could be appliedslowly and systematically to the character's fingers, thumb, palm bones, wrist,arm bones elbow etc. These types of impliments could cause massive damage tothe muscles and tendons as well as complex, shattering type, breaks.Historically they weren't always applied to the point of breaking bone. In yourscenario they would be, but not necessarily on purpose.

This method would allowyou to lengthen the period she's tortured for. Attacks could happen repeatedlyover days or weeks and last for hours at a time without instantly resulting inthe sort of catastrophic damage that the 'smashing' method above would. By thetime she's rescued she probably wouldn't have the same number of breaks as shewould if she was attacked with a hammer. But the breaks would be complex, indifficult places, they might be weeks old and they'd be untreated. Again itwould depend on the level of medical tech in your world but I think you couldrealistically make the injuries fit the outcome you want.

Removing the bone isdifficult and requires a degree of manual dexterity. It's incredibly dangerousand there's a high chance she'd bleed to death. As with the smashing scenarioI'd suggest having her rescued soon after if this is the route you'd like togo. It would be a highly unusual torture and in the modern day I'd say it couldeasily be lethal. I wouldn't suggest this for a non fantasy/sci fi setting. Ithink it would make it extremely likely the limb would need to beamputated.

If you want body horrorin your story that's probably the best suggestion I can make. I think it couldhave a huge emotional impact on the character and the readers- but you're theonly who knows whether that's the right kind of emotional impact for yourstory. Depending on what your themes and focus are simpler could be better.

Nerve damage isgenerally associated with restraints and suspension.

The simplest suspensiontorture that I can think of applying to your scenario is a variant on an oldEuropean military punishment- the Picket. Essentially a loop of cord is putaround the character's wrist/s (in your case the wrist of her bad arm) andtheir arm/s are pulled above their head. They're hoisted a few inches off theground with a spike placed under their feet. This gives them the 'choice' ofputting their weight on the spike (damaging their feet) or on their wrist(damaging their hand).

Doing this on yourcharacter with her injured side means she probably wouldn't be able to adjustwhere her weight is resting. It would probably rest entirely on her wrist. Thiscauses nerve damage in an averaged sized adult man in about 15 minutes. It cantake slightly longer for lighter people and slightly shorter for heavierpeople. The damage is permanant.

It would basicallyreduce her mobility in that hand. Repeated torture might make the hand completelyunuseable. Suspension might also dislocate her wrists and shoulder (repeatedly), causinglasting tendon and ligament damage in those areas.

This probably wouldn'twork if you were imagining an above elbow amputation. But for a below elbowelective amputation I think it could work. There isn't a set time frame and herinjuries, while hugely painful and damaging, wouldn't be as immediately lifethreatening as some of the crushing injuries would be.

Similar injuries can begained just by misuse of restraints. If the pirates are using metal handcuffsand they are routinely put on her bad arm and routinely tightened then shecould get similar nerve damage from that. She would probably also get a brokenwrist. This sort of injury probably wouldn't be purposefully inflicted but it'sa relatively common 'accidental' torture injury. If you feel something moredeliberate is a better fit with your story use one of the other methods.

That's all I can thinkof really. I hope it helps. :)

Disclaimer

#tw torture #amputation #tw body horror #breaking bones #thumb screws #suspension #the picket #nerve damage #sci fi ask #Anonymous

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mikunology · 7 years ago

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Headcanon Ramble: Superhero Elements in Vocal Android

I had to make a post about this sooner or later, right?

As everyone probably knows unless you’re new, a major part of the Vocal Android fanverse is the fact that the characters are actually part-time superheroes along with being singers. I’ve talked some about it in the past but I thought I might as well be more descriptive here, especially since I’ve had some new ideas on where this part of the story goes and how the characters feel about it.

Info under the cut! This is VERY long because I get carried away.

To expand on a post I made around last week, the funny thing about the group becoming superheroes is that Miku, Rin, Len and later Luka have wildly different views on the responsibility.

See, while they were officially declared heroes in Sapporo for their saving the city from being destroyed by Rin’s berserk road roller, they expected it to be a one-time thing. It was just something that happened--it was certainly bizarre that it did happen, as that chip that they found causing the problem was not placed in there by any of them, but it wasn’t such a big mystery that they felt the need to follow up on it. I mean, whatever, right? The day was saved, Rin’s road roller was brought back to normal, they got some nice rewards for helping the town. All’s well that ends well, right?

But then...more haywire machines started to show up. Even more mysteriously, all courtesy of the same kind of microchip that was in Rin’s road roller.

And of course, this comes into play when Miku and friends first start going to high school.

Like mentioned in the said previous post I made, Miku honestly did NOT want to be a superhero. She’s a fun-loving girl, and she loves adventure, but she honestly was quite content with “adventure” only extending to “going on quirky trips across the globe singing with her best pals”. Not “having to save the world every week from murderous out-of-control robots while also having to figure out the cause of said murderous robots”. I mean, doesn’t she have enough on her plate? As she continuously suggested, why not get the actual authorities to do something instead of asking her? Especially since fighting isn’t something she particularly enjoys doing, nor is it even her forte?

Well, a couple of reasons. Due to already having the mark of saving the city from giant robot threats, everyone naturally expected Miku to help out again, and she crumbles under peer pressure. Two, she does have superpowers, all things considered--that alone makes her much more qualified to destroy rogues than any human. And also, she’s a robot herself, so she should know everything about shutting down other ones!

Naturally, Miku disagrees with all of the above. But, albeit very, very clumsily, she manages to save her school, and soon, the occurrences become more common, meaning Miku and the team finds themselves frequently saving Sapporo from threat after threat. And they slowly but surely gain footing while doing so; with Gumi’s scientific knowledge supplementing Meiko and Kaito’s, Gakupo’s backup, and Luka’s later addition to the squad, they begin to get pretty good at this hero thing. What’s more, they end up encountering more than a few rogue machines--Zatsune and Kageito show up, Tei and Mayu show up, it gets crazy pretty quick.

And soon, it gets even crazier: while fighting off evil clones and counterparts while shooing off minor antagonists such as Neru or Ling, the team gets noticed by bigger people: more specifically, the secret agency YAMAHA. Being recruited as agents additionally puts them in the midst of more serious crime scenarios, such as the dark mysteries of the Honne and Macne Corporations, and the group gets busy as the new Cyber Detective Brigade. But as they get stronger and more well-known, their battles extend from corrupt executives and killer robots to the plain supernatural, such as a certain hostile alien race...but I should probably stop there.

As for how the others feel about all this?

Well, Len mostly sides with Miku on this one (at least before she grows into the role) although for different reasons. Len thinks the idea of being a fighter very cool to think about, but very dangerous in actual practice, and therefore objects mostly due to that. In other words, he’s most concerned about his sister and the others getting hurt or reckless, rather than because he objects to the actual job. This belief of his does become somewhat of a grounding force, though, Len always was the truly practical one.

Rin, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Miku--she jumped at the call. She loves being a superhero, and is quite vocal about it. Rin usually is the one rushing out the door to go save the day when the group is called upon, and gets the utmost thrill out of beating bad guys and going on hyper scifi adventures. As you can guess, she very much tends to ignore that great power comes great responsibility. Although as time goes on, she slowly stops thinking of the job as an opportunity to be cool and powerful and more as a chance to help the city, and she calms down a little as a result.

Luka? Luka is strictly the neutral of the neutral--as long as she’s being helpful somehow to her fans and to her creators, she’s all for the crazy adventuring and mystery. Although, she partly shares Len’s view on the job being dangerous, but instead of advising against the job she simply takes it upon herself to be the team’s source of protection. Gotta keep those crazy kids safe.

And Meiko and Kaito? Well, they definitely are proud of the kids for their trying to help, but believe me, they worry. They worry a lot. After all, they feel like parents to the other four--it’s only natural for them to want them to be safe. So that in mind, Meiko and Kaito are often just as involved in the adventure as everyone else; they usually provide backup and support, or stay as mission control, so to speak. Meiko in particular gets caught up in the action a lot, and while Kaito prefers to stay behind in the sidelines, he grows to become a lot more eager to join the battle.

Now, all of this said? This is still the relative B-plot to Vocal Android, as it’s still a silly comedy alongside as a scifi-fantasy. But sometimes this B-plot will switch to an A-plot, so I wanted to be a bit clearer on my plans for this.

Anyway, I rambled for a long time, didn’t I? Sorry. I get excited. Once again, will probably elaborate further as we go along.

#vocal android #text #vocaloid #headcanon rambles #my headcanons #*shrugs forever*#anyway bedtime

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typewriter1970 · 7 years ago

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MST3K Headcanon

Okay, this is going to be really long and rambly and whatever and people probably don’t care, but there’s still not really an explanation (or one I’m satisfied with) for how the bots got back on the ship in the revival/reboot. So yeah, here’s my headcanon, below the cut.

Going with continuity in the show (yes, counting the SciFi series and its ending), Crow and Tom were on Earth, living with Mike, who most likely was still working temp jobs. Gypsy owned her own company, so she was probably still working there. Cambot isn’t really mentioned in the finale, so I’m going to say he lives with Joel full-time because Cambot is more comfortable around him than Mike.

Now, I think that Mike is nice enough to share custody of Tom and Crow with Joel, who presumably still owns the fish shop in Minnesota. So Tom and Crow go back and forth between the two, with the occasional shared holiday or birthday. Well, when Tom and Crow are with Joel, he receives an invite from Gizmonic Institute for an invention fair. The bots are a bit hesitant but Joel secretly misses the invention exchanges, so he pushes forward and accepts the invite. He also insists on having Tom and Crow come along, insisting that it wouldn’t be as fun to present an invention alone (he decides to leave Cambot at home because he figures recording won’t be necessary). Tom and Crow accept reluctantly, but tell Mike. Mike freaks out of course (he seems the more likely of the two to be the “hey honey, maybe we shouldn’t buy the abandoned mental hospital with blood leaking from the ceiling” guy in a horror movie). Joel somehow convinces Mike (a mixture of guilt-tripping, whining, and repeated promises to not let the bots out of his sight).

Now, said invention fair is just a ruse by Kinga and Max (obviously). They’ve been planning to revive the experiment her father had never completed (to bring honor to the family name and all that jazz) for a few years or so and they have managed to get almost everything together, except for the bots. Max tries to suggest they just build their own replicates (and is forced to wear the hat of utter stupidity™ for a week by Kinga for suggesting it). Kinga is set on getting the original bots, claiming it might mess up the data if they use replicate robots. The only bot she agrees they should build a new one of is Cambot, because technology has changed so much in the ~18 years since the original experiment ended. So she and Max hatch a plan to hold a fake invention fair, having seen the invention exchanges from the videos of the old experiments. Kinga and Max figure that Joel will probably insist on bringing Tom and Crow. They have a plan to get Gypsy for after they get Tom and Crow. They also bribe some people and give them crappy thrown-together inventions they made themselves along with a script of what to say, along with the people in reception to direct Joel to the “invention fair”.

So, the day of the invention fair comes, and Joel, Crow, and Tom show up at Gizmonic Institutes. The receptionist points them in the correct direction and hands the three visitor badges (with implanted trackers, courtesy of Kinga). Crow and Tom loudly rag on the other inventions, eventually earning themselves a time out. Joel is careful to put the stools nearby so he can still see them. Then, Max walks up (the distraction) and “trips” into Joel, knocking him onto the ground and drugging him (with what idk), while Kinga sneaks up and deactivates the bots. They dump Joel back into his car and take the bots into their current base somewhere in the Gizmonic building.

Joel wakes up and panics when he realizes the bots are missing. He gets into the building but everyone acts as if he has no idea what he’s talking about, and security throws him out. Even his invitation is missing. He tries to search around the building but gets threatened with trespassing by security, so he’s forced to leave. He drives to his house, seeing if the bots somehow ended up there. He also calls Mike, asking if the bots were there. Mike answers no, then realizes what happened and rushes over to Joel’s.

Meanwhile, Kinga and Max activate Crow and make him call Gypsy, then deactivate him again after some chasing with a net and some interesting traps. As expected, Gypsy takes the bait and realizes the bots have been kidnapped by Kinga and Max, and heads to Gizmonic herself to rescue them. In her determined state, she totally forgets to mention this to Mike or Joel. Gypsy shows up a few hours after Joel leaves and sneaks into the building through the air vents (they’re large air vents, okay?!) When she drops into where Crow and Tom are, Max jumps on her, trying to stun her, which doesn’t go super well (think dude wrestling a fire hose). When he does manage to stun her, he also stuns himself. Kinga grumbles and deactivates Gypsy. They gather the bots and the last supplies for their moon base (they’ve had grunts working on the base for a while already) and throw them into their rocket, heading for the moon.

Joel and Mike have called the police and are watching the news for any sign of the robots. They also got Gypsy’s voicemail, which was odd because she always took their calls, even in business meetings (anything for them). Just when the officer begins to interview Joel, who is talking about how the guy who drugged him looked oddly a lot like TV’s Frank, the reporter bursts in with a news bulletin that an unauthorized rocket launch occurred a few minutes ago at Gizmonic Institute. Joel and Mike slowly look at each other, realizing what happened. They tell the officer that they know where the bots are, and the officer leaves. Cambot chirps worriedly by Joel’s feet. “What do we do now?” Mike asks, sitting on the couch with a sigh. “Wait and see, I guess.” Joel replies, still staring at the news story. Neither Joel nor Mike could afford another rocket to rescue the bots, not with their incomes.

And sure enough, a few weeks later, a new show shows up on the main page of Netflix with some very familiar looking bots (with modulated voices) and all Joel and Mike can do is hope the bots somehow can get back to Earth again.

tl;dr: Joel is that person in horror movies that ignores every bad sign, resulting in the bots being kidnapped and shot into space again by Kinga and Max.

#mst3k #mst3k reboot #mst3k revival #headcanon #idk if anyone cares #but here have this overthought idea #it's long #like waaaaay too long #skip to bottom if tl;dr

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[SF] In To The Blue (My next decade)

In To The Blue #scifi In To The Blue

By Antti Luode

So 2020 rolled around. I was beat down and broke. Getting old double time, no triple time. Losing my mind on a rocket speed. But that was alright because I was making music. That no one was listening to. But hey. A tune is a tune.

The beginning of twenties I spent lying in my bed. Taking medications that made me forget about the world outside, watching movies when I was not sleeping. Officially a mentally disabled person with nothing to look forward to.

Until that fateful day.

Lets just call it delivarance. Oh crap, that is not how it is written. Deliverence? No, it is not that either, damn spell correction, well, lets try it one more time. Deliverance? Bingo, we have a winner.

Anyhow, back to the source of my deliverance.

Deliverance btw if you did not google it means, "The act of being rescued or set free.".

Well, Jesus Christ did not step down from the heaven even though I had been going to church a bit and praying for that final meal ticket at the end of my miserable life. It was not that.

It was.

Drugs.

Yes.

A miracle drug set me free in the first part of 2020.

The only catch was. It had side effects.

You know how it goes in life. No stroke of luck comes without equal stroke of bad luck. I know, enough with the stroking. Even though..

Ahh.. My mind sometimes, it just leads me to bad places. To baaad places.

But, enough with that. Lets go back to my delivarance.. Crap. I misspelled it again.

Yes. There was a drug that magically cured my epilepsy and my bi polar disease. No more feeling like I was going to be electrocuted to death from inside. Ripped up like the poor bastards on board Nostromo in the movie Alien.. Like the poor victims on the other side of that door in that movie with Jack Nicholson.. Oh waith, they did not die right?

Yes. My mind is rambling.

Ahh.. Yes. There was a cure.

Indeed. But the catch.

It turned me to a woman.

No, I am just kidding with you.

It did not do that.

It turned me to a sheep?

Naaah..

It gave me..

Superpowers?

Yes. That was it. The pill in question had been developed by Elon Musk and was supposedly able to heal any mental disease as he promised. And yes. I rushed to USA when I first heard about it.

Sold all my possessions and left. Just like that. To have that magical pill.

And boy did I get it.

That fateful day at the Neuralink laboratories in California.

NEURALINK LOS ANGELES MAY 2020

I was dead tired from travelling to Los Angeles. With the flight included and the previous day that I could not sleep I had been up some 48 hours. Honestly I was seeing little green men walking on the street where I knew there were none. But the good thing was that I was not lonely.

The green men all were walking to the same direction as I was. The Neuralink industries main building where I had been graciously allowed to pass to.

It was not a ordinary day. It was end of the worst decade in my life. It had started with me being in the best shape of my life at 35 and it had ended up with me being both mentally and physically disabled by my epilepsy.

Yes, my back was broken, my mind was in shambles and I was pretty much Gods joke. Just a loser with nothing to look forward to in the future. So little wonder the promises of Elon Musk of a pill that will "Heal all mental disease including epilepsy". Had made me.. Lets just put it this way. Hopeful.

I knew I was dying, one way or another. Either by the horse pills (referring to their size and and multiplicity) or by the disease. I knew I was not going to make it far in to the 2020´es without a cure.

But here we had a promise of a future.

Sure the price had been a little bit steep. 200 000 thousand dollars for one pill that was not to be digested but instead it was to be sewn inside my skull along with a device that was going to change the way my brain would function.

Each time I was going to get a seizure, it would alter my brain activity and instead of seizure. Something else was to happen.

I walked in.

OPERATION

I was not scared by a brain surgery.

I was dead man walking anyway.

When I went under. I wished for death or cure.

When I came out under the smiling faces of surgeons. I knew something was different.

There was this. .

Surge in happiness.

That was the only way I could describe it.

I had been miserable for most of my life due to my bi polar 2. Which I had been happily unaware of before.

But now. I just could not stop cracking jokes.

My first words to the surgeon were.

"Did you choose the color of your hair cover, blue? Really? Did you feel you have to conform with others? You could not do anything more adventurous?" , he winked back at me and said. "Look who is talking, you half human, half machine."

Cyborg. Yes. I was.

I was, I was. I know I repeated the word twice. But..

I was lying there. The surgeons walked away and in truth.

I had a cybernetic implant.

See. I was in a test program.

This was not much talked about. But I had tweeted something to Elon Musk about wanting to be a test subject. And one night, I got a email from Elon Musk saying that he wants me to pay for the procedure, but if I was willing. I could be one of the test subjects.

And now it was done.

"How do you feel?", someone asked me from the back of the room.

I turned my head to see and saw.

The grinning face of Elon Musk.

"Pretty ok.", I said.

"We are boosting the funny part of your mind right now.", Elon said.

"Sorely needed.", I said and grinned back.

I had been the most miserable person on Earth for most of my life. So yes. I needed funny.

"I did not die.", I said.

"Yes, or heaven was not what it was cracked up to be.", Elon said back.

"Ahh. Cracked. There really needs to be a joke about cracked heaven, but I for one can not think of one right now.", I said and closed my eyes.

"Heaven of Crack addicts.", I said watching in to the darkness behind my eye lids.

"What would that be like?", Elon asked.

"Well, there probably would not be as much blowjobs for strangers as there are in real life.", I said and opened my eyes, looking back at Elon grimacing at my bad joke.

"Did I go too far?", I said.

"Man..", Elon said.

Two weeks later I walked out. Tiny box in my belt constantly monitoring my brain activity and sending results back to Neuralink headquarters.

NEW JOB

So what is a newly divorced cyborg to do in Los Angeles.

Well, I did not do what you think I would do in that position for starters.

Instead since I was allowed to have a visa on medical grounds. I had to get a job.

I did not become a famous musician if that is what you expected of me.

No, instead I got a job at a greasy spoon washing dishes.

Yes. That was about the best I could find. Now my back was keeping me from standing all the time. So I had to get a special chair made. So I sat in that chair 10 hours a day, washing dishes.

And no, I was no longer epileptic. There had been a shift in my thoughts. My mind was tuned to the frequency of jokes. I could not stop joking. I was a funny man. Which was weird, because in my previous life I had been the most miserable sack of excrement you have ever know. Not that you dear reader (my mom?) would have known me. Well, for the exception of my mom of course.

So I was washing dishes in a greasy spoon and telling jokes for everyone who wanted (most did not) to hear. I was telling jokes like it was going out of.. Hmm. How should I put this? Well you know clothes have to conform to certain styles. What is that called? Starts with H? B? No.. F!

Yes, you know. My mind was full of holes from the lost decade and I could not stop telling jokes, nor washing dishes. Because if I had stopped, I would starve to death since on my greencard I was not allowed to have any other kind of social assistance than standing in a bread line with the rest of the poor people of Los Angeles.

HOME

So I got my self a place. It was a tiny room with this disabled woman who could barely breath and was hooked up to a oxygen bottle at all times. But she was a funny disabled woman. She did not expect much from life. If I brought home bacon fries with a double bacon swiss cheese hamburger, she was happy.

I was happy too. I was not thinking of my old life in Finland much. I was not getting daily seizures and I was able to leave my horse pills behind. I was exercising a little bit. Old, but not dying actively as I had been in my earlier life. There was a promise of future.

I was flirting a little bit with the idea of marrying the old woman. Making a honest woman out of her, not that she was honest. She was lying though her teeth at all times. But at least I could trust she would not tell the truth.

Which was good with me.

So we were living in this God forsaken place in the middle of Watts. Police sirens and gunshots were our background noise and in the darkness, the sub bass blaring gangsters made me feel right at home.

I was becoming another person.

I guess you could say I discovered my inner black person. Which was weird because I had been white my whole life. Reading the news and thinking about politics. I could not give a rats ass anymore about those things.

I was thinking about.

Rap music.

I had never felt rap music that much.

But here I was as 2020 was coming to a close. A white man with cybernetic implant, trying to come up with rhymes for a rap song.

I did not even realize I was doing that.

I guess it happened organically, washing dishes at this grease spoon, ten hours a day. Listening to rap.

I began to "Get it.",

It was not what I thought it was about.

It was not about the girls and guns and the alpha male bullshit I thought it had been about.

It was about the life in Ghetto.

Now I was part of the ghetto.

Sure the ghetto people were laughing at me every day, pointing at me and saying things like.

"Shiiit.. Here comes the terminator.", since the secret had got out.

But you know what?

I was not dying and I kind a belonged there.

2021

The first time I installed the music software back on my computer I knew what I was going to do.

I was not going to rap. It was one of the young kids outside who was going to rap. I was going to produce. My job at the greasy spoon had left me a little bit of money to rent this crappy one room office where I had set up a studio.

There, in that studio. I was sitting, feeling my skull with my right hand, thinking about my ex wife. Waiting for the kid to come in.

When I say kid. I mean kid, this kid was 15, I heard him rapping on the bus every day. Singing songs of his peoples. Rapping like a machine gun. Wearing a bandana, dangerous, full of life.

And i was going to produce this mother copula tor.

Why did he choose me?

Because I had written a instrumental piece that worked.

I do not know how I did that. But lets just say that I needed my cybernetic implant to do it.

Without it I would have been dying in my house back home in Finland eating the horse pills with no future. Thinking about dying every single day until I finally would have, one way or another.

Now. I was going to produce this fireball in Watts, Los Angeles.

The kid walked in.

I set up the recording.

He did his thing.

I uploaded it on soundcloud, advertised the poop out of it.

And 5 million plays later the record company was on the phone.

I had a contract with the kid.

We signed.

FIRST MILLION DOLLARS

Million dollars later.

I upgraded the house. We moved with the old lady to a house in the suburbs. I also upgraded the studio into a slightly larger one at a slightly better part of town.

Our life changed. There was articles about me and the kid. I wrote more instrumentals that actually evoked interest, unlike the pieces I had written when I was sick.

I kept on writing instrumental pieces. I kept on getting into contact with more and more people who wanted to make music with me.

There were a lot of reflections on my luck.

"How could this be.", I found myself asking as I found myself being happy for the..

First time in my life? Nah.. First time since the first few years of my marriage..

I was also owner of the greasy spoon where I had earlier worked. The people who I worked for, now were friends for life. The bus driver of the bus line I used to use worked for me. Life was looking very different than it had on the first of January 2020.

I was going to church a lot. Praising God because I actually felt I had actually been blessed instead of cursed. I felt that maybe now God finally had forgiven me for what ever transgressions that had caused him to smite me with epilepsy and bi polar.

2021

Was nothing but going up. I was 47, living in Los Angles with Linda (the old woman with oxygen bottle) and I did not want sex.

All I wanted was to make music. Have friends, joke, and go to church.

My family visited me a few times. We went skiing on the mountains surrounding Los Angeles. I visited my grandmas cousin who had just turned 102 that had lived her whole life in LA.

I was thinking about how different my life would have been had my grandma moved there to back in early nineteen hundreds. But she did not.

I was still Finnish man inside.

But part black.

Yes. That was the weird part. I had been married to a girl from Georgia US for 16 years. But now I was identifying more with the black culture than the white. The booming bass of black music and drums no longer gave me seizures and the feeling I got in black churches was on par with nothing else.

I was high on life.

The first megahit I wrote with the the black kid now widely known as "Fireball", was "I do not want to die tonight.", its words were not about killing or banging. Its words were about not wanting to do as his father before.

To go to jail, to do drugs and die.

The kid had nothing against his father. But now that he was doing well, he could see that there was more to life than that. He genuinely wanted to help his friends back in Watts. And he worked 24 / 7 to do that.

Sure he had more sex and hip hop life style than I had. But he was still using a lot of my beats, I do not know why. But as I said, I think the only explanation could be was my cybernetic implant.

Speaking of which. I was on the Time magazine as the first human patient who had been so successful with the implant. Me and Elon had become friends at this point too. Unlike in my greasy spoon days. I guess my success had won Elon back at my side, after the bad joke about crack addict heaven.

So life was swell. 2021 ended and I turned 48

2022

There was no greater joy for me than to help my friends. I helped every one. As they had helped me. Giving became my profession. I traveled the world to areas that had been struck by catastrophes, me fireball and the rest of the people on my label enjoyed nothing more than to see the faces of people who would suddenly be yanked of their hell to a new life of promise.

Like I had been.

But there was this one little thing that was bothering me. I found myself to be drawn to certain things. Certain things that I had never identified with earlier. To certain business transactions. To certain people. One after another, I was doing things that I felt were not really me.

More and more people had been implanted with the neuralink device and a lot of us had had magical turn around in life. Things were going WELL for us. We were setting up Neuralink only member clubs. With our own golf courses and business empires.

Yes. We were becoming smart. Not just "The smartest kid on high school" smart. But Albert Einstein, Stephen Hawking smart.

I had barely got through the "long" mathematic class in high school back home and I knew I was not gifted. But having glanced at mathematics books again. I knew something had changed. I actually was able to ace all questions in my old mathematics books. Interested in this new capability I was venturing into harder and harder maths on my free time.

One evening on the June of 2021 I found myself performing calculations on quantum mechanics and as far as I knew. I was able to come up with a new theory for everything.

I went through my calculations once, twice, three times.

Then I thought about a cell phone number (Neuralink device allowed me to command devices with thought only) and was soon listening to the voice of Elon Musk.

"Look buddy, I am in middle of Tesla stockholder meeting.", Elon said to me, slightly frustrated.

"I think I just proved that universe is a quantum computer that is seeking for the morally best possible ending.", I uttered.

"I have to take a break.", I heard Elon say before he walked to quiet room and said again.

"Shoot.", he said to me.

We perfected the theory that year.

2022

Scientific American ran the story on the cover. "Universe is just a giant quantum calculator.", after that all the other publications ran the story too. Little wonder the Nobel prize of physics was awarded to me and Elon Musk that year.

The theory had vast influences on everything from religion to nuclear energy.

See. The theory laid down the foundations for grand unified theory which had been sought after for..

Since the start of written language.

The theory was not just about the nature of universe, put everything in the nature.

From the mathematical equations I had come up on that night of June. Everything could be derived.

It was like I had stumbled on the seed for the universe.

The founding principles on what God had created the universe on.

Turns out God was searching for the best possible result for every life in the multiverse.

Meaning that all the suffering in our lives is solved somehow. Every life somehow has this turning point after which things are good.

Everybody I knew, somehow would go through the same thing I had gone through. Every miserable alcoholic who I saw on the street, in fact died cured, happy with their family.

It was just that I was not there to see it. Just the same way as I was magically healed by the Neuralink, every other person would have that in their life. Everyone was the center of their own multiverse.

So, all the suffering that I saw. You saw. Was just there for me.

A test of sorts I guess.

What would be after I died. I did not know.

I was a scared by the power of this revelation.

I spent rest of 2022 going to church. I gave away all my money to Linda, the woman I had been living with and moved to Tibet.

2023

One thing that kept on bugging me was that I was drawn to certain things. Certain advertisements, thoughts. Etc.

I was assuming that Elon had added some kind of self interest to the Neuralink device. A natural draw to things that he felt were interesting.

I found myself drinking way more Coca Cola than I really liked. I was eating a lot in the golden arches, the closes thing to Mc Donalds in Tibet.

But here I was. A Christian man in Tibet. My intentions were good.

I wanted to ascend the natural hubris. The money. The fame. The trappings of ego.

So I moved a Buddhist monastery. The only thing that made sense after all.

Christian monasteries would have not wanted me. There was a movement that wanted to stamp all cybernetic people as heretics and I was not one to fight them.

I gave up mathematics. Thinking about foundations of universe and concentrated on watching clouds instead.

The clouds in Tibet were rare. Since Tibet is so high. Not that I got high. Although I occasionally did. There were certain potions that were needed in the ceremonies after all.

And so I watched at clouds. Mountains. People with long grooves in their faces. Like my own face in the mirror. Yes, I was growing old. My family would occasionally call. But for the most part of my stay in Tibet. I was alone.

Yes, every now and then people would come to me and say. "Are you so and so." and I would say. "Yes in my previous life. .", and so it went.

But quiet and clouds were moving to the center stage of my life.

I began painting. Clouds.

The paintings were not much to behold and this time, I did not become very successful, turns out that even the neuralink device would not be enough to turn a 48 year old man into a genius when it came to painting.

But people were still fighting over my paintings. Not that I knew it at first. But the paintings I painted in Tibet were fought over in some circles due to my notorious eccentricity.

"Painting of a cloud by the man who came up with grand unified theory of the universe.", turns out that would sell even if the painting itself was crappy.

I guess I knew how Einstein felt now.

But I was not that smart. The stroke of luck I had had with the GUT was only due to my childhood. I used to think about foundations of universe a lo as a child and the Neuralink device allowed me to do the mathematics needed to do the mathematics.

But without the device.

Yes. I turned the damn thing off sometimes.

I was back on pills on those times.

Feeling horrible.

Painting clouds. Thinking about my ex. Happily married by now. With second child on the way.

And here I was. In Tibet. Painting clouds.

It was one of those experimental times.

That I had another grand mal seizure.

Which broke my neck this time.

So. 2023 ended with the neuralink device back on and me being paralyzed from the neck down.

2024

"The man who turned his back on the gift.", was the headline on "Christian today."

Privately I was thinking about "How could this lead to the best possible moral outcome of the universe for me.", sitting in my wheelchair.

Now wheeled next to Linda. Breathing from her oxygen bottles. . A little glimmer in her eyes, now that I was back on her side.

Us two. Physically disabled people.

So we got married.

Linda was implanted with the Neuralink device too.

We began to live in our heads more and more.

Meanwhile the Neuralink device had got a lot better.

Now, we could escape our bodies to a kind of virtual reality.

The device. Was no longer a device. It was devices. Elon was kind enough to give us the new models that were able to project images senses and sound straight to our brains.

Allowing us to move around in robotic human avatars.

So we were wild and free.

Linda was enjoying not being disabled in a way for the first time since she got sick 30 years ago.

I was enjoying life instead of thinking about it too deeply. I knew that somehow my life would solve itself in a morally best possible solution. Somehow this was needed.

I got back into music business and for the most part, forgot about my real body.

Sometimes I would visit it in our big house. See the teams of nurses wheeling the shadow of me around, locked in a wheel chair. Looking like a dead man.

"Do not worry about that.", Elon would tell me.

"Well be able to upload our minds soon." He assured me, which I knew was real.

Every day the computers were getting more and more powerful and every day the meaning of my biological body was less and less important.

The weird thing was that if that was to happen. I guess I might not die other than in my physical body and if that was to happen. Then I was to live forever.

So how could that me go to heaven then? I wondered quietly at church pew sometimes.

But I still believed.

I had seen prophecies come true, so I did not doubt.

2025

I was watching myself through the eyes of my avatar, sitting inside a machine that was scanning my mind. Meanwhile the vast wealth that I had left for Linda was used to build a massive storage facility that was to store our minds.

I did not know it at the time, but in the future the facility was to be expanded to store minds of many others. These were dizzying times. We were not yet there, but immortality was at hand.

But the thought kept on bugging me. If the uploaded me was to live until the end of universe.

What about heaven?

I was actually getting back into making music. I had created many different avatars for myself. Some looking like historical characters.

My favorite was a avatar of old Frank Sinatra. I liked going to Vegas to perform old Frank Sinatra classics. The cat was kind a out of the bag that it was me singing. But not really me. A robot. First I drew vast crowds, but then the technical perfection that the machine allowed me to do began drawing less and less crowds. My performances were too perfect.

Meanwhile bad art was all the rage.

"Real." It was called.

I realized the suffering me from time before my implant would have been a hit now.

There were more and more of us avatars, doing our perfect art. Living our perfect lives, but like in the "Valley of dolls." something was amiss.

I was not happy. Even though I felt happy.

Neither was Linda.

We were thinking about our future immortality.

What would be the point?

Happy every day?

Possibly able to do things we could not imagine. Move to moons of Jupiter?

Heck. Visit Andromeda galaxy a few thousand years from now if we perfect the warp drive?

Give birth to new conscious minds that live their lives. Endlessly. Trapped in this universe knowing that even our immortality can not help us escape the fact that the universe itself has a deadline.

Yes. We were thinking about distant future, billion of years from now..

See that is how the human mind is. You fix one problem. The mind finds another.

Sure I would remind myself I should not think about that. Who cares about what is going to happen 2 - 22 billion years from now. Maybe we will be able to restart another universe or something.

But that is where I was.

That is where Linda was.

We were thinking about this transition that was to happen.

Because when we were visiting our physical bodies. We knew they did not have too much time.

The mind scanning was coming to close by the end of 2025 and our bodies had been hopped up on all kinds of medicines, but they were not looking too good.

We knew we had to do something.

So we went back to our bodies.

Elon had come up with a solution for the being paralyzed bit. A implant was put to my spine that was able to bridge the gap that had left me paralyzed. Linda was healed with another device and a successful lung transplant.

2026

turned out to be a year of our physical bodies being rehabilitated.

By the end of the year we were both walking pretty good again and Linda was breathing well for the first time in some 30 years. She no longer needed the oxygen nor me.

Yes. we had a divorce.

Linda left to live the life that she had always wanted, which did not include a musician, Christian and a astrophysicist.

So I began to withdraw to my calculations.

Me and Elon would often talk about the universe and its nature. And the more we talked, the more hopeless we got.

We would fly with the prototype Tesla flying car over the vast human mind storage facility. Then fly off to Rockies and talk about possible end scenarios for the universe.

Meanwhile Linda had wanted her mind to be wiped out of the storage all together.

Others on the other hand were uploading their minds en masse. All living their lives, thinking they would have a perfect ending as my theory had postulated.

But I was lost. Going to church my mind was full of doubt even thought I had seen the prophecies come true. Even though I was so blessed in the last six years.

My body was getting stronger. My mind was uploaded to a cloud if you like. Even if I died, my mind could be restarted in silicon. I could be copied and transferred to another facility on Mars or another solar system. All we had to do was to send some avatars that way with our minds and we could be in multiple places at the same time.

But our physical bodies would die.

When we were to close our eyes.

There would be the leap in to the unknown. Still.

By now there was a lot of science based Christian churches, trying to alleviate the suffering of people by promising that the jump was going to be easy. Trying to explain it away. The neuralink devices on the other hand were able to protect us from too great of a pain.

In fact, if I had wanted, I could have turned off all my mental suffering, but I chose to feel some.

Because I was thinking it was telling me something important.

Everything I had dreamed of .

Was in vain.

I knew what was wrong with my life.

I had not lived a perfect life. I had hurt people, I had paid my price.

Sure I had helped a lot of people by now.

But it was not enough. The nagging feeling that my biological mind was left with, would not leave me alone unless if I turned the neuralink device on to do so.

My body was very strong again. The medications that the mid twenties brought were magical. The quantum computers and AI in unison were able to make perfect, tailor made medications that believe it nor not. In 2026 healed me. Also, my spine was actually fixed.

When 2026 was ending.

I was left in a room full of golden records and newspaper articles on the walls. The trophies of my success.

But one face there made me lose my sight on all that.

The face of my ex and me. Standing next to each other in 2002

That was not to be.

No matter how wealthy I had got. No matter how smart.

I could not win her back.

And my mind could not be happy without her.

So I walked out.

Went to Tibet once again.

After a targeted memory wipe kindly provided to me by Elon.

1.1.2027

I opened my eyes. I saw mountains.

I saw a cloud. I was strangely drawn to the cloud.

I was thinking.

I remembered my name. Distant childhood.

I looked at my body.

It was withered and old.

I was aching all over.

There were what seemed like Buddhist monks all around me.

On the altar on the front of us someone was burning incense.

There were dragon gargoyles staring at me from these massive wooden beams.

I looked all around and did not see any trees.

I wondered where they came from.

I sighed.

I felt like I have to pee.

I opened my mouth and to my surprise I spoke Nepali language.

"Who am I", I asked out loud.

"You are one with the cloud", a monk said to me next to me and continued praying.

I looked at the cloud.

It did not have much of a substance. It was white cloud, not too large. With shadows on its bottom. Moving gently towards the distant mountains. It was not hurried. It was not angry. Kind. In fact it did not have a emotion.

But I did. I felt peace.

That year.

I learnt to be me again.

I was told I had asked and received a targeted memory wipe.

Past 30 years of my life wiped away. But I was shown articles and told that I had lived for sure.

I was also told that I had spent the 2010 to 2020 in living hell and that I should be happy I do not remember that time.

Weirdly, I felt like I was ok with that explanation.

But one thing was missing. I did not believe in the prophecies. I was told I had had prophecies, I saw a video of myself testifying about the said prophecies. But it was like watching a video of another person testifying in a church.

It was all very weird.

So I stayed in Tibet.

I developed a intense friendship with our religious leader.

He was telling me about Buddhism. About being present in the moment and he had my unwavering attention. There was nothing else to attend to after all. All electronic devices were forbidden.

In fact most things were forbidden, expect for endless sit downs, meditating. Thinking about nothing at all. Just observing the world around and inside of us.

Letting it be, to go by like that cloud on the sky.

After all we were passing through this life just like the cloud, temporary.

And I was fine with that.

2028

I was visited by a strange man. I did not know him. He had a rugged face. I heard that people called him Mr Sinatra. I assumed he was a look a like, since I knew Sinatra was dead. He looked at me with great compassion. But I did not really care for him. He seemed to go on endlessly about the universe and what it is all about.

It was very weird but he cared for me almost like one would care for a child.

I found it somewhat creepy.

The only thing I liked was him singing songs to us. His rendition of "Angel eyes", "My Way" and "New York, New York". Were better than the original. Mindblowing really.

When he left. I was happy. But the memory of the songs got stuck in my mind.

No one told me anything about the world outside. Yet, I was strangely drawn to making music.

But I thought about my life. What I remembered of it. I had always been a listener, not a maker. I had thought about physics, politics, news and so on. I was not really a musician.

So I did not pursue that. Even though I would play the monastery bells and hit the gong occasionally.

So who were there with me? There was Sajith, Devance and Amir. All very old.

Infact, our group consisted mostly of old farts, close to dying one way or another.

One by one we went. Sajith was close to seventy, he always told me. "Do not look back. There is nothing in life worth holding on to.", I was trying to be ok with his answer.

I guess I was. I was told my life earlier was nothing to really read about. Nothing to behold, I was told that I was happier now than I had been in my previous life.

And I was not really miserable. Devance and me would sometimes play cards. Amir and me played a game called "Civilization" on a fourty years old pc that had been forgotten in one corner of the monk compound by some crazy American millionaire.

We were all looking forward to passing on like a cloud.

2029

Nothing ever changes in Tibet. Expect for the wings of Canadian geese flapping by during some seasons and the few trees losing their leaves only to grow them again.

It was in the new year leading to 2029 that I had a weird idea.

I wanted to climb the Mt Everest.

After all I was used to very high mountain air and there was nothing else to do.

I was not tired of sitting with my fellow monks.

But it just seemed to make sense.

Few weeks later I heard that the news of my wish had been heard by some people who wanted to help.

And I woke up to the sound of blades moving massive amount of air. A helicopter?

"Come on Antti.", Amir was saying as he hurried in to the room, clad in what I recognized were mountain climbing clothing and gear.

"We have everything we need to climb Mt Everest.", Amir said with a smile.

I got up from my creaky bed and walked outside. There, a massive quadcopter was sitting on the ground, surrounded by the monks, touching its surface, its back open with a few pallets of climbing gear and people who were speaking English.

"Hello Antti Luode.", a man said, grinning. "I heard you want to scale Everest?", he said.

"Yes. I think I should be able to do it.", after all I am dying like all of us. So why not die today?", I said and shook his hand.

"Will Smith.", the man said and took my hand. Watching me once again very warmly, in a way that reminded me of my meeting with Mr Sinatra look a like.

"Nice to meet you Will Smith. Are not you that actor?", I said.

"Yes! I heard about what you wanted and wanted to help.", Will said with a grin

TRAINING

We began with training.

It was grueling for our old bodies.

But we were used to grueling in the monastery.

I also remembred I used to exercise in my youth a lot.

So it was not new to me.

We were treated with several medications that were supposed to strengthen our bodies and help us in climbing the Everest.

We started small.

We scaled few local mountains.

We got stronger by the day.

Time went by.

I kept on watching at the clouds.

Dreaming of the day when I would fade like one of those clouds.

In to the blue.

Me and Amir had a lot of talks about that day.

"You know there is no fear in passing.", Amir would tell me.

"There is only change from one state to another.", he would continue as we climbed up the mountain.

"The thoughts will cease and you will be like the wind.", he said. Smiling. Stopping.

Devance cracking a joke about the wind behind me.

"Way to break the feeling.", I would say back to Devance.

Sajith on the other hand would seriously just go on.

Waiting on to the next life as wind.

By the end of our training.

Sajith became the wind.

He just did not wake up one morning.

Smile on his face.

In his funeral the feeling was very transcending.

Will Smith kept looking at us like we knew something that he did not.

I spoke with him sometimes. About the incredible fact that he was there, that I had had memory wipe, about how the old me was. But then I would interrupt. "I do not want to know.", and I did not.

I did not want to know, I was happy where I was. Looking forward to walking up the worlds tallest mountain.

June first 2029

We were all sitting in our tents at our last camp before reaching the summit of Mt Everest.

I was reading a bible that I got from a couple that had broken in to our summer cottage when I was a child. They had left it with a note. "We are sorry for living in your cabin, but we had hard times." They had cleaned the whole cabin and left that one bible.

On the front page of it was my name written with almost unrecognizable hand writing of a 7 year old. On the section of it where there were "The dead relatives." I had written down the name of my grandpa written with the same blocky letters of a first grader.

I was beyond broken. Our ascend had been hard. It would have been hard for a twenty year old, let alone for a 56 year old not so healthy man.

But I was determined to go on.

The only person in our group that seemed like it was no problem was the mysterious Will Smith.

I did not understand how a human being, especially one as old as he. Could be so non chalant about a climb. Another thing that I was marveling was how he did not seem to eat. He said he had a bit in his tent. But he was getting by with very little.

It was morning.

We got up.

I looked at the summit, at the blackish sky above it. The vast mountain range going towards India behind me. I thought about my life. How it had been. How I heard it had been. And how it would be.

I was going to reach the summit of Mt Everest today. Maybe Passing away on the way. But I was going to reach it. In spirit or in body. I did not care.

Neither did the rest of us.

It was nothing to the rest of us monks. They did not believe in conquest, but they did believe in friendship and they were following me. I did not know why. But they were following me.

We packed our tents. We began walking up the icy mountain side.

I was walking on the front. Occasionally we came by dead bodies that had frozen in the ice, trying to do the same as we were doing today. God knows why. Some of them very rich, very happy. Knowing they could die.

I guess they had reached their dream.

We were walking up.

Behind me, the monks were humming a prayer.

Will Smith joined along, he was fantastic. It seemed that just like Sinatra, he could emulate any sound.

I knew there was more to it than that. But I did not want to know.

I knew my life before had been so fantastical and miserable at the same time that I did not care to know any more mind blowing secrets. Secrets that I knew my past life was shrouded in.

So up we walked. One step at a time. In to the blue

submitted by /u/Mrloop [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2rKHgMZ

#Blogger #Story

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petr3pan · 7 years ago

Text

You live in a #scifi! How will you save the world? #superheroalert

I’m writing from the past to tell you that YOU live in the future. I don’t mean that metaphorically. You live in a wild science fiction world that many people can’t even imagine, and you can impact and change that scifi tale if you want. Let me show you. Or, as a freaky man once put it, “I’d like to play a game.” Tell me which of these three technology scenarios is in development–or already working!–right now. Home-grown Pancreas

Formaldehyde and the scent of blood assaulted Prakriti’s nostrils as she entered the lab. Her eyes widened; her stomach leapt, maybe not into her throat, but it certainly leapt somewhere. Body parts littered the room in petri dishes and vats, and in the center of the room a man with a stained lab coat was handing her brother a wad of cash. “No!” Prakriti cried. “No, we’re not that tight on money–we’ll get through, you don’t need to sell your kidney!” “Kriti, what the–how’d you find me here?” her brother gasped. “Been trailing you since Mongolia, through Tibet–everywhere. Please, don’t–” He crossed the room and gripped her shoulders. She pushed away; he yanked her in for a hug. “Kriti, listen. I’m not selling my kidney. I’m selling a few stem cells, that’s it, and Reshad’s gonna grow me a whole new pancreas to replace the silly diabetic one I was born with. He’ll publish the results, and people world over will be growing organs!” “That’s impossible,” Prakriti cried. “Please, let’s just go. Come back home, face the disease and stop running! We’ll–we’ll find a way to pay for medications.” “I refuse to live that life. I’m willing to gamble for a better one.” He flicked her a two-finger salute and disappeared into the surgical room. “See you in Mumbai.” What did you guess? Real, not real? Is he seriously getting a new-grown pancreas? Well, he is! We’ve totally done this. Again and again. Even with vaginas! We can grow organs now! Dinosaur DNA

I cocked back the slide on both pistols, listening for that sweet click and pop as the tranquilizer darts prepped in their barrels. “You’ll have one shot at Dr. Schillenberg through the window when you fall past the Tower of Terror. Miss that, and you gotta trek your way back up a roller coaster more rickety than a house o’ cards made o’ toilet paper.” I smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I strapped on my parachute and dove out the plane. Wind slammed me in the face as I rocketed towards the abandoned theme park. Popped my chute; aimed my pistols; floated by the open window– It was empty. “Whoohoo, soldier!” someone called. I glanced down. My heart just about stopped then and there. The woman in a lab coat, below me, she was–she was– I tapped my finger to the radio embedded in my ear. “Uh, command, we got a problem. Schillenberg’s ready for us. And, uh, she’s riding a freakin’ T-rex.” “You know what to do, soldier.” I grimaced; pulled my rifle off my leg as I floated towards them. Hell if I’m gonna talk back to Jones, but I really DIDN’T know what to do. They don’t teach you to kill dinosaurs in Afghanistan. This is the odd one out, right? Viable dinosaur DNA can’t survive fossilization. Or so we thought. A few years back, scientists found fresh, viable tissue inside dino bones (1, 2) , which of course stunned us all since we know soft-tissue decays far too fast to survive that long (3). It prompted all kinds of debate about the age of the fossils themselves (4), which you should totally check out if you get time. But for now, let’s bottom-line it: we can’t make dinosaurs yet because we’re not sure we have the right creatures to splice their genes into, or enough intact DNA, but we’ve got blood! We’re much further into crazy scifi world than ever before. Telepaths

Tanisha drew her shawl tighter over her head, doubly-masking the cap of wires hidden under her weave as she slipped into the drug-lord’s penthouse. Had to find out when and where this deal went down tomorrow. Leak that back to Anderson, and she’d win her revenge. She ducked into the closet, huddling between Armani suits that reeked of musk. Click–apartment door opening. Hushed voices; Big Brandon’s booming laugh–but she couldn’t quite make out words–light stung her eyes–crap! The closet-door opened–Tanisha froze before a pale, hollow-eyed man and the barrel of a .44 magnum. “Looks like we got a rat, boss.” Crap crap crap–Tanisha ground her teeth as Hollow Eyes yanked her out of the closet. He threw her in front of Big Brandon. The fat-ass mob boss stood arms akimbo and laughed. “Oh, hey, it’s–Taniqua? Tan-tan? Oh, you wanna correct me?” Tanisha’s eyes blazed. Oh, yes she did. “See how pissed off she is? But she can’t talk. Unfortunate accident, right, to her tongue, after her poor dead Momma ratted Daddy out. Tan-tan’s a living example of what happens when you betray me.” The mob boss leaned in; spittle soaked his rank breath. “And that example is the only reason you’re still living.” To his men– “Make sure she doesn’t leave the apartment. ‘Specially not around 3:30 tomorrow by Warehouse 33, right Tan-tan?” Big Brandon roared with laughter. His men glanced back and forth in confusion. “Oh, little family joke. My little girl was gonna report her Daddy to the cops just like her mom. But she’s not now. Handcuff her to the dresser, we’re moving out. Tanisha struggled a little, and kept up the whole rebellious glare thing for a while, but the moment they shut the door behind them she unleashed her glee. Ha! She could scream her triumph from the rooftops. Dear Daddy didn’t know how he’d lost his last ten lieutenants to Officer Anderson. Dear Daddy didn’t know about telepathy. So yeah, Tanisha can communicate with Officer Anderson by telepathy. You totally don’t believe me. But the Army does. They put down $4 million dollars ondeveloping telepathic helmets, and they’re only fifteen to twenty years from completion. I KID YOU NOT. I am gonna be talkin’ to my kids via brain waves, no crap. So, point made? You live in a ridiculous future scifi world. But it takes more than crazy settings and wild technology to make a good scifi story. You need a protagonist with a conflict. Unfortunately, in addition to the scifi setting, your world has conflict. Throughout your modern scifi world, there’s a rampant slavery epidemic washing across your nation, your continent, and your planet. I’m not building metaphors here, political or otherwise. The number of women, children, and men bought and sold as slaves for sex and forced labor right now throughout Africa, Europe, East Asia, and the Americas literally dwarfs everything you ever heard about ancient slavery. We need everyday citizens to learn how to identify and rescue human trafficking victims using resources like these (http://cmda.org/resources/publication/human-trafficking-continuing-education). We need cashiers, healthcare providers, moms at home, protagonists all around the planet to get these phone numbers into their cells (http://thecnnfreedomproject.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/30/how-to-help-global-hotlines/). We need heroes to intern for rescue organizations like these (http://www.slaverynomore.org/organizations/), and eventually pursue long-term careers in catching the bad guys and recuperating the victims. You’re in a scifi world perhaps far greater than anything you ever read in a comic book or watched on TV, and we just need a protagonist to step in and make a difference. Are you our scifi protagonist? Maybe your life’s more of a contemporary romance or drama, and I can’t force you into a genre swap. But maybe, just maybe, this post will reach someone who’s ready to take a leap into the real science fiction future. Who knows. It’s a brave new world out there. If you liked this, there will be more like it over at petrepan.blogspot.com! (1) Schweitzer, M. H. et al. 2009. Biomolecular Characterization and Protein Sequences of the Campanian Hadrosaur B. Canadensis. Science. 324 (5927): 626-631 (2) Schweitzer, M. H. et al. 2013 Molecular analyses of dinosaur osteocytes support the presence of endogenous molecules. Bone. 52 (1): 414-423); see also Woodward, S. R., N. J. Weyand, and M. Bunnell. 1994. DNA Sequence from Cretaceous Period Bone Fragments. Science. 266 (5188): 1229-1232 (3) Allentoft, M. E. et al. 2012 The half-life of DNA in bone: measuring decay kinetics in 158 dated fossils.Proceedings of the Royal Society B. 279 (1748): 4224-4733. (4) Compare two major debate articles http://creation.com/dinosaur-soft-tissuevs.http://discovermagazine.com/2006/apr/dinosaur-dna Click to Post

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becomingherocomic · 7 years ago

Photo

Becoming Hero

You live in a #scifi! How will you save the world? #superheroalert

I’m writing from the past to tell you that YOU live in the future.

I don’t mean that metaphorically. You live in a wild science fiction world that many people can’t even imagine, and you can impact and change that scifi tale if you want. Let me show you. Or, as a freaky man once put it, “I’d like to play a game.” Tell me which of these three technology scenarios is in development–or already working!–right now.

Home-grown Pancreas

“No!” Prakriti cried. “No, we’re not that tight on money–we’ll get through, you don’t need to sell your kidney!”

“Kriti, what the–how’d you find me here?” her brother gasped.

“Been trailing you since Mongolia, through Tibet–everywhere. Please, don’t–”

He crossed the room and gripped her shoulders. She pushed away; he yanked her in for a hug. “Kriti, listen. I’m not selling my kidney. I’m selling a few stem cells, that’s it, and Reshad’s gonna grow me a whole new pancreas to replace the silly diabetic one I was born with. He’ll publish the results, and people world over will be growing organs!”

“That’s impossible,” Prakriti cried. “Please, let’s just go. Come back home, face the disease and stop running! We’ll–we’ll find a way to pay for medications.”

“I refuse to live that life. I’m willing to gamble for a better one.” He flicked her a two-finger salute and disappeared into the surgical room. “See you in Mumbai.”

What did you guess? Real, not real? Is he seriously getting a new-grown pancreas? Well, he is! We’ve totally done this. Again and again. Even with vaginas! We can grow organs now!

Dinosaur DNA

I cocked back the slide on both pistols, listening for that sweet click and pop as the tranquilizer darts prepped in their barrels.

“You’ll have one shot at Dr. Schillenberg through the window when you fall past the Tower of Terror. Miss that, and you gotta trek your way back up a roller coaster more rickety than a house o’ cards made o’ toilet paper.”

I smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I strapped on my parachute and dove out the plane.

Wind slammed me in the face as I rocketed towards the abandoned theme park. Popped my chute; aimed my pistols; floated by the open window–

It was empty. “Whoohoo, soldier!” someone called. I glanced down. My heart just about stopped then and there. The woman in a lab coat, below me, she was–she was–

I tapped my finger to the radio embedded in my ear. “Uh, command, we got a problem. Schillenberg’s ready for us. And, uh, she’s riding a freakin’ T-rex.”

“You know what to do, soldier.”

I grimaced; pulled my rifle off my leg as I floated towards them. Hell if I’m gonna talk back to Jones, but I really DIDN’T know what to do. They don’t teach you to kill dinosaurs in Afghanistan.

This is the odd one out, right? Viable dinosaur DNA can’t survive fossilization.

Or so we thought. A few years back, scientists found fresh, viable tissue inside dino bones (1, 2) , which of course stunned us all since we know soft-tissue decays far too fast to survive that long (3). It prompted all kinds of debate about the age of the fossils themselves (4), which you should totally check out if you get time. But for now, let’s bottom-line it: we can’t make dinosaurs yet because we’re not sure we have the right creatures to splice their genes into, or enough intact DNA, but we’ve got blood! We’re much further into crazy scifi world than ever before.

Telepaths

Click–apartment door opening. Hushed voices; Big Brandon’s booming laugh–but she couldn’t quite make out words–light stung her eyes–crap! The closet-door opened–Tanisha froze before a pale, hollow-eyed man and the barrel of a .44 magnum. “Looks like we got a rat, boss.”

Crap crap crap–Tanisha ground her teeth as Hollow Eyes yanked her out of the closet. He threw her in front of Big Brandon. The fat-ass mob boss stood arms akimbo and laughed. “Oh, hey, it’s–Taniqua? Tan-tan? Oh, you wanna correct me?”

Tanisha’s eyes blazed. Oh, yes she did.

“See how pissed off she is? But she can’t talk. Unfortunate accident, right, to her tongue, after her poor dead Momma ratted Daddy out. Tan-tan’s a living example of what happens when you betray me.” The mob boss leaned in; spittle soaked his rank breath. “And that example is the only reason you’re still living.” To his men– “Make sure she doesn’t leave the apartment. ‘Specially not around 3:30 tomorrow by Warehouse 33, right Tan-tan?” Big Brandon roared with laughter. His men glanced back and forth in confusion. “Oh, little family joke. My little girl was gonna report her Daddy to the cops just like her mom. But she’s not now. Handcuff her to the dresser, we’re moving out.

Tanisha struggled a little, and kept up the whole rebellious glare thing for a while, but the moment they shut the door behind them she unleashed her glee. Ha! She could scream her triumph from the rooftops. Dear Daddy didn’t know how he’d lost his last ten lieutenants to Officer Anderson. Dear Daddy didn’t know about telepathy.

So yeah, Tanisha can communicate with Officer Anderson by telepathy. You totally don’t believe me. But the Army does. They put down $4 million dollars ondeveloping telepathic helmets, and they’re only fifteen to twenty years from completion. I KID YOU NOT. I am gonna be talkin’ to my kids via brain waves, no crap.

So, point made? You live in a ridiculous future scifi world.

But it takes more than crazy settings and wild technology to make a good scifi story. You need a protagonist with a conflict. Unfortunately, in addition to the scifi setting, your world has conflict.

Throughout your modern scifi world, there’s a rampant slavery epidemic washing across your nation, your continent, and your planet. I’m not building metaphors here, political or otherwise. The number of women, children, and men bought and sold as slaves for sex and forced labor right now throughout Africa, Europe, East Asia, and the Americas literally dwarfs everything you ever heard about ancient slavery. We need everyday citizens to learn how to identify and rescue human trafficking victims using resources like these (http://cmda.org/resources/publication/human-trafficking-continuing-education). We need cashiers, healthcare providers, moms at home, protagonists all around the planet to get these phone numbers into their cells (http://thecnnfreedomproject.blogs.cnn.com/2011/03/30/how-to-help-global-hotlines/). We need heroes to intern for rescue organizations like these (http://www.slaverynomore.org/organizations/), and eventually pursue long-term careers in catching the bad guys and recuperating the victims. You’re in a scifi world perhaps far greater than anything you ever read in a comic book or watched on TV, and we just need a protagonist to step in and make a difference.

Are you our scifi protagonist? Maybe your life’s more of a contemporary romance or drama, and I can’t force you into a genre swap. But maybe, just maybe, this post will reach someone who’s ready to take a leap into the real science fiction future. Who knows.

It’s a brave new world out there.

If you liked this, there will be more like it over at petrepan.blogspot.com!

(1) Schweitzer, M. H. et al. 2009. Biomolecular Characterization and Protein Sequences of the Campanian Hadrosaur B. Canadensis. Science. 324 (5927): 626-631

(2) Schweitzer, M. H. et al. 2013 Molecular analyses of dinosaur osteocytes support the presence of endogenous molecules. Bone. 52 (1): 414-423); see also Woodward, S. R., N. J. Weyand, and M. Bunnell. 1994. DNA Sequence from Cretaceous Period Bone Fragments. Science. 266 (5188): 1229-1232

(3) Allentoft, M. E. et al. 2012 The half-life of DNA in bone: measuring decay kinetics in 158 dated fossils.Proceedings of the Royal Society B. 279 (1748): 4224-4733.

(4) Compare two major debate articles http://creation.com/dinosaur-soft-tissue vs.http://discovermagazine.com/2006/apr/dinosaur-dna

http://becominghero.ninja/you-live-in-a-scifi-how-will-you-save-the-world-superheroalert/

#Superhero Alerts (Become a hero!)

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withabackpackandcamera · 8 years ago

Photo

February 4th, 2017

Day 16: The Beauty of the West Fjords

On tap for today: The West Fjords, also known in Icelandic as Vestfirðir.

Because driving through the darkness gave me no hints as to what I was about to experience in the next 36 hours in the West Fjords, I woke up tired but very excited to get the day started! My first glimpse of my surroundings outside the apartment were through the living room window, through which I saw the fjord where Ísafjör��ur lies. It was a breathtaking scene, with the mountains surrounding the water just outside of the apartment window with clouds enveloping the mountain tops.

After a quick cereal breakfast and look outside the window, I was out on the road once again and headed up to the mountain pass and tunnels that would eventually lead me to my first stop: Suðereyri. It was about 15-20 minutes from Ísafjörður and, as mentioned, required going through two mountain tunnels that were quite impressive. After getting through the tunnel, I found myself outside staring into a fjord valley with the mountains towering around and the water down below me. An incredible scene, especially with the area shrouded in clouds and rain. A short drive later and I was in Suðereyri, where I continued to drive around to scout what I could do or photograph. It was a very small town that took about a minute to drive through. So, really, not as much to see in town besides homes. But after driving through town along the harbor, I found a little pier that stuck out into the fjord and made a stop there.

With photos done, I turned around and headed toward a dirt passage that I noticed on the way into the pier. It was a narrow, dirt road that looked like it wasn’t meant for my driving, so I decided to walk down the passage and see where it led me. And it was a stunning view of the fjord leading out into the ocean. Because of the drizzling rain that had been going on all night and all morning, the ground was muddy and wet and I had to take extra caution with my treadles shoes. I walked down the passage, just taking in the views of the ocean and crashing waves. Along the walk, I saw a small waterfall coming from the cliff face to my left and lot of broken ice chunks on the dirt road, presumably ice that had fallen onto the road from above. Before long, I started my trek back to my car to continue the day’s roadtrip. But before heading out, I stopped by at a small church and another pier for a couple more shots.

Next stop: Flateyri, another small fishing village on the other side of another mountain tunnel. After a short drive, I got to Flateyri. Within the village limits, there really wasn’t too much to see but homes, a couple of shops, and a school. There was a harbor here where some small boats were docked and where you could get a clear view of the majestic fjord beyond. But as beautiful as it was from my own eyes, the view just wasn’t as spectacular through the viewfinder. So before long, I gave up and drove around town, looking for another photo op. And I found one at the edge of the city looking out into the ocean. The spot was an area of dirt and gravel with a makeshift path down the slope and onto lower ground where you could get a clearer view of the ocean in the distance. Some time was spent enjoying the view before trying to compose the best shot but after a few minutes, I was off again towards the other side of the harbor, where I by chance ran into an Icelandic worker who was outside of his truck about to pick up one of the dumpsters in town. I took that opportunity to approach him and ask him a bit about the town. We talked and he answered all the intriguing questions I needed before I headed back on the road again. With a couple of extended stops to take photos of the surrounding mountains and the sun peeking out through the clouds, I was on my way once more.

The drive to the next spot, Nupur, was gorgeous. Because there was no tunnel to drive through this time, I took my time driving in order to enjoy the beauty around me. The road took me past the bays of the fjords and wound through the mountain valley before climbing through the mountain to the other side. And to add to the natural beauty around me, the skies were clearing just a tad, giving way to blue skies and tidbits of sunshine. Wow. And like that, I got to the gravel road I needed to turn on and drove my way to (Hotel) Núpur, which I don’t think is a town or village, just a spot with a hotel, a couple of houses, and a farm. Once I drove through and had a quick look around the area, I decided that the thing that piqued my photographic interest the most was the farm down by the shoreline. I parked my car and trekked through the icy and muddy path down to the farm, where I spotted a fantastic view of the fjord Dýrafjörður! I hiked further to the rocky beach below and spent a good half-hour trying to photograph something that would capture just how stunning Iceland was. But with big fjords and little else in the foreground, photos were much harder to capture than I thought they would be. So I gave up and left for my last destination of the afternoon: Þingeyri.

Þingeyri was another small town that I actually spent very little time in as it was getting dark and I didn’t find anything super interesting to photograph or look at. After driving around the village a couple of times, I headed back towards home base with a couple of photographic stops along the way. By the time I got back to Ísafjörður, it was right in the middle of the blue hour and I decided that instead of going straight back home, I would continue driving and looking for a spot where I could take photos of Ísafjörður, the mountains, and the reflections they casted on the water’s surface. I found a good spot for some photos but quickly realized that the inherent shape of the town would make it very difficult to photograph. Once again, another challenging photography situation that I tried to figure out and make the most of before driving to the downtown area to take a look.

In Downtown Ísafjörður, I found that most, if not everything, was already closed by the time I was back, which was probably around 1900. So, the trip was quick and I headed back to the apartment. There, my hosts were kind enough to have me for dinner and we enjoyed some simple pork chops with salad and sweet potato fries while watching an odd SciFi original series on Netflix about how technology can turn on you. In this case, it was a show about how robotic bees were hacked and turned into weapons of mass murder. It was quite odd but definitely held my attention for the entire 90 minutes.

After dinner, I decided to go out to explore once more to make the most of my 48 hour trip to Ísafjörður. This time, I drove north from Ísafjörður towards the second largest town in the area: Bolungarvik. Last night, Gretar had told me about going to Bolungarvik and looking around and seeing if I could catch sight of humpback whales in the far distance. I totally forgot about seeing the town until I was back home and it was completely dark. But I went out anyways because it was a short drive away and I thought the sky might clear up enough to provide me with some Northern Lights.

But nope, no Lights tonight because it was pretty cloudy high up in the atmosphere. And the town was as hard to explore as I had because it was so dark and I couldn’t really make out anything to drive to and look at. But after driving and looping around the town 2-3 times, I found a spot that I thought might be photo worthy. So, I got out and looked around with my headlamp on and camera in hand. And behold, I found a hidden gem where I least expected it! A large damp and icy field (that felt like it used to be a lake or something) that was sitting right in front of a towering mountain at the edge of the town. Score! After taking some test shots of the area, I deemed that this place was worth sticking around for and got my camera set up for some night shots of the moon-lit mountain. About an hour later, I called it a night as the wind and rain started to pick up and the clouds fully obstructed the moonlight. But a productive night venture with some good results!

As midnight approached, I suddenly realized that I wasn’t going to be sleeping much… and that I would be getting up very early to start my ridiculous drive back to Reykjavik. Yay. Can’t wait. Dangerous roads, here I come again!

5 Things I Learned Today:

1. The mountain tunnel system in the West Fjords is both impressive and, I’m sure, very expensive. And I find it interesting that those tunnels were built despite the very few people living in the towns connected by those tunnels. I guess that the tunnels really do serve as an important connection between these small towns and between the Icelanders outside of the West Fjords.

2. Though the fjords in Iceland are breathtakingly beautiful, they are extremely hard to photograph because they sit so small and horizontally in the distance and because the scenes do not offer great foregrounds for photos. And as I learned today, it takes extra effort and more vigilance to find a good photo despite being surrounded by a surreal landscape.

3. The bit I learned about Flateyri from the Icelandic truck driver: Flateyri is a small village of about 200 people these days. It used to be around 500 before the tragedy that struck in 1995. At that time, a big snow hit the area and, as a result, an avalanche occurred, killing many people. After that tragic event, people moved out of town and that’s why there is way less people now. Also, because of the tragedy, an intricate avalanche barrier system was built at the foot of the mountains surrounding one side of the city.

4. Sometimes, the most photogenic spots are inconveniently inaccessible because there are no side-of-the-road parking turnoffs. I found this to be a very common theme as I drove through the area.

5. The West Fjords are very hard to access during the winter months because of the weather. Many parts of the roads that take you through the region are blocked off and inaccessible during this time of year, especially if the roads climb up to higher altitudes where snow and ice are more abundant. So, in order to get to certain places, you have to drive one of two ways (clockwise or counterclockwise) on the looping road that takes you through the fjords (for the most part). That means, if you’re like me and trying to explore as far as possible from Ísafjörður, you can only go as far as Þingeyri before the mountain roads are closed. I know this because I wanted to go see one of the highest waterfalls in Europe just past Þingeyri and couldn’t.

#withabackpackandcamera #huyphan8990 #travel #travelblog #Iceland #westfjords #fjords #adventure #photography #driving #landscapes #towns #isafjordur #winter

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