New around here? Register your SA Forums Account here!

You can: log in, read the tech support FAQ, or request your lost password. This dumb message (and those ads) will appear on every screen until you register! Get rid of this crap by registering your own SA Forums Account and joining roughly 150,000 Goons, for the one-time price of $9.95! We charge money because it costs us money per month for bills, and since we don't believe in showing ads to our users, we try to make the money back through forum registrations.
 
  • Locked thread
starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
I'm in with 2 and 5.

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
In with a :toxx:

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
An Honorable Man Vice: rigidity
986 words


The passenger starship Ion 4 reached the inner solar system of Solerus around 15:00 Galactic Time, and the destination planet Orius finally came into view in the cockpit of the ship. The stim behind the captain’s ear had been long a depleted gray, and he slouched slightly in his seat in fatigue. The first officer stood at attention behind the captain at his console, denied the luxury of sitting as befit his rank.

The captain rubbed his face wearily. The first officer fought to keep his own exhaustion from showing. It had been a long flight from the nearby star system. The AI had malfunctioned as they entered the outer solar system, demanding the skill and constant attention of both captain and first officer as they navigated the space debris that ringed it. At last they were finally in view of the planet, a mere thirty minutes away, and the first officer looked forward to the luxury of rest and to let down his face for a short while before his next flight.

“Plug in and let the Orius spaceport know we’re about to reach orbit.” the captain said.
“Yes sir.” The first officer reached for the slender communications cord and plugged it into his neuralcom. After a moment of static he was connected to the spaceport. After a minute of neural communication he unplugged himself.

“Sir, Orius spaceport has cleared us for landing.” He hesitated. The spaceport had indeed cleared them for landing. They had also warned of a geomagnetic storm, common for this kind of star system. The captain at his own console would already have this information and was surely going to act appropriately given the absence of the AI. The first officer however had a small inkling of a doubt, a nagging sensation at the back of his head.

“The sun is very turbulent today.” He finally said. It was the closest he could get to voicing his doubts. To question a captain in his own ship was to question his honor, and that was something he could not bring himself to do.

The first officer had spent years working his way up, from ship boy through the officer rank to the coveted and competitive rank of first officer. He was a dutiful man, a man who followed orders exactly. Unlike many of the other men who worked on the ship he bore no stripes on his back for disobedience. His record was immaculate, his obedience unquestionable. He was proud of the honor he had accumulated.

The captain grunted. “It’s often turbulent in this system. Too bad the drat AI had to go out. No matter, we’ll have to link in and navigate ourselves for the landing.”

“Yes sir.” The first officer began the preparations. The planet loomed in the window. Another storm was also brewing down on the surface of the planet. The planet was prone to such turbulence, sudden and powerful super-storms that swept the planet’s surface. This would already be treacherous, but without the AI and with the electrical disturbances the magnetic storm would cause it would doubly so. His eyes flickered nervously, the only sign his carefully trained face would allow to show his discomfort.

‘It would be safer to stay in orbit until the storms passed.’ The little voice of doubt said in his mind. He looked over at the captain. The captain was clearly fatigued. Was it possible his judgment might be compromised?

The first officer banished such thoughts from his mind. Such thoughts of doubts were treacherous. He was but a lowly officer, not fit to judge the actions of captains. He retrieved the proper chord for navigation and linked in alongside the captain. The electrical systems were already starting to fail in the magnetic storm, and they prepared for a blind landing.

The planet encompassed the entire window now. The first officer could see roiling turbulent clouds down below. The clouds were illuminated by lightning flickering across its surface. He balked. Surely the captain would see that they could not attempt a blind landing in such conditions. Even visual information would not be enough for this.

“The storm below looks treacherous.” He said. Normally he wouldn’t dream of using such strong language, but fear was starting to creep into his mind. The captain looked at him sharply.
“Watch yourself first officer. I’ll put a stripe on you yet for insolence.” He said. The first officer felt a hot flush of shame creep on his face. Still, he wished the captain had at least considered his concern.

The captain and first officer neurally navigated the ship into the atmosphere of the planet. For a brief moment there was a moment of calm as they entered the stratosphere of the planet. Then they hit the storm.

The ship rocked violently in the turbulence. All visual information was lost as they became engulfed in a world of howling grey winds. They navigated the ship desperately to the coordinates given to the spaceport.

“Keep her steady.” The captain grunted. They maneuvered through the clouds.

There was a sudden, loud bang as they suddenly entered a hail storm. A keening sound began to rise from like a dying animal. The captain cursed.

“We’re almost there. Just got to get out of this drat storm.”

The first officer wasn’t listening. He had realized something the captain hadn’t in his concentrated effort. The keening sound was coming from inside the ship. It was the terrestrial proximity warning.

“We’re not going to make it. You were wrong, we’re not going to make it” He said. It would be the first and last dishonorable statement he would ever make.

When the rescue crew was finally able to identify the bodies they sent the first officer back to his home world. He was buried as befit his rank as first officer, as befit that of a man who had lived his life in honor.

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
I'm in.

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
Velvet
620 words



The fence loomed large and formidable in Safi’s vision. He ran towards it, the taste of salt and dust in his mouth. Sweat stung his eyes and the hot air made his lungs burn, but he didn’t dare slow down his pace. He had come too far, had suffered too much to have his journey end here at the edge of his destination.

The white hot heat of the noon sun glared down at him. Each step he took kicked up red dust. He was coated with it. He felt like the desert he had come from, parched and dry and desiccated. But still he ran. He could hear the sound of people running beside him but didn’t dare look. He kept his eyes unwaveringly on the fence, as if he was afraid it would vanish like a mirage if he so much as looked somewhere else.

He was almost at the fence. He could see lush cool greenery pressed against the other side of the fence, stark against the bone dry red dust he had been running through. He wondered what it would be like to walk among those plants in their cool wet shade.

When he reached the fence he immediately jumped and grabbed onto the chain links. He would have cried out in pain if his mouth wasn’t dried out and devoid of moisture. In the hot sun the chain links had become heated. Pain seared into his fingers and toes like threads of fire. He started climbing. He tried to think of cool foliage. He tried to think of rain and cool winter days. The sun beat into him from above but his mind was gone, gone into the cool dark earth. He kept climbing.

He thought about his family back home. It was for them that he was doing this. To get away from the poverty of Africa to Europe, where he could make enough to support his people back home. He had made that long desperate trek through fiery sands and cold unforgiving nights, and his journey was almost done.

He heard a cry as a man beside him slipped and fell down. He could see the top of the fence above him. He kept his eyes fixed above. As he grasped the top of the fence he hoisted himself up and looked down on the other side.

In front of him lush verdant lawn spread. From this high up it looked like green velvet, and Safi couldn’t even imagine what it must look like to be able to touch that soft surface. His parched body ached imagining the dewy wetness clinging to the ground. The trees seemed to flaunt their richness in front of him. He thought of the trees just behind him, as scraggly and hard as he was.

He felt dizzy and disoriented, as if he had gotten drunk off the scenery. In the distance he could see people coming towards the fence. He knew he had to get down and escape. He willed his body to move and started making his way down. He made it three quarters of the way down when the border police arrived.

The first blow from the baton hit him on the side. He let out a rasp of pain as he desperately tried to cling to the fence. The second blow hit him on the head. He felt a white burst of pain. His fingers lost their grip on the fence and he fell.

As he lay on the ground he reached out a hand. He tried to touch that soft velvet grass just out of his reach. A baton cracked down on him from above and he lost consciousness.

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
I'm in

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
Two halves of a Whole
1194 words


Deirdre couldn’t sleep. Even with the curtains closed she could feel the watching gaze of her death.

In her youth when she was strong and healthy she rarely saw her death. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of a dark form at the corners of her eyes, or in the night when death was strongest she would see a silhouette of a dark form far away. But when her slight spring cough turned into a deep wracking pain in her chest and summer turned to fall she started seeing more and more of her death, until one night she woke to find it peering through her window. Ever since then it came every night without fail, its bright white eyes staring at her through the night, scratching at her window.

She finally dozed off as the room started to lighten with dawn, until a fit of coughing woke her. She coughed into her handkerchief, avoiding the bright red that stained it after she was done. She got up and went into the kitchen. Her brother was already at the table, two steaming mugs of tea in front of him. A frown appeared on his face when he saw her.

“You don’t look like you slept too well, you know the healer said you need good rest to keep your body strong,” he said.

“How exactly am I supposed to rest with that thing outside my window all night Aedan,” Deidre retorted. She sat down at the table and took the mug proffered to her.

He sighed. “I know Deidre, trust me I know. Do you think I don’t lay awake at night thinking about the death right outside our house ready to take my sister? But the better care you take of yourself the longer we’ll be able to keep it out. Please.”

Deidre looked at her brother. He was older than her, but strong and vital. He would not have to experience his death for a while yet, not have to worry about it at his window.

But she saw the lines of worry on his face, and smelled the healing herbs he so carefully combined in her tea, and could not feel resentment. She took his hand.

“Aedan, what if we don’t have to accept my death? What if there was some way to stop it, delay it, maybe even – “

“Deidre,” her brother interrupted. He was shaking his head, as he did every time she brought this up. “You know that isn’t possible. You know how it has to happen.”

She did know. She like every other child was told the story of their death. She could still hear her mother’s voice as they sat beside the fire when she was young, her mom combing Deidre’s long fiery hair that she loved so much.

“Every child is born with their death, and their death loves them dearly. But death cannot stand the fiery souls of youth and so are doomed to the live away from their children, always wanting to be near but unable to get close. But as a person’s fire dims from age or illness death is able to get closer and closer, until one day a person’s death appears like an old friend and take their hand, leading them to a place where they can finally be together for eternity.” Deidre’s mother always made it sound gentle and kind. She didn’t tell her about the white staring eyes or the scratching at the window.

Deidre got up from the table and went to get her coat. Her mom and brother might have accepted that they have to live with their death, but that didn’t mean she had to.

She was greeted by crisp autumn air as she walked outside. It was almost the fall equinox and there was a festival in the village. Vendors cried out their wares and stores sold steaming hot ciders and tea. Deidre bought a cider, grateful for the warmth that helped ease her cough, and browsed until her eye was caught by one item in particular.

It was a small silver knife, plain except for the delicate runes etched on the surface of the blade. It was about the size of her palm.

“I see you have you have fine taste lass. That blade will protect you from any evil you might come across, those runes will guarantee it.” The shopkeeper said.

Deidre looked at him sharply. “It will protect me, you’re sure?” she asked.

“I swear on me mother’s grave I do,” he replied solemnly.

Deidre bought the knife despite the high price. She had never heard of someone successfully injuring their own death, but maybe she could drive it away with such a blade. She tucked the knife into her pocket.

She stayed in the village until the sun started setting. She could feel excitement as people talked of the bonfires that would be lit soon in the empty fields. By that time the pain in her chest was constant and deep, and she had trouble breathing. She knew her brother would be expecting her in by nightfall, but all she could think of was how nice the warmth would be near a bonfire. She followed the villagers as they walked towards the fields.

As the last of the sun vanished and the air grew cooler Deidre’s cough became worst, her handkerchief sodden with red, and she fell behind the others. Eventually she had to stop altogether as a particularly bad fit seized her. Blood spattered the grass. When she finally was able to stand upright her death stood before her.

She had never seen it so close besides at the window. She could see its body was identical to hers but insubstantial and dark, like a shadow cast by the light of a fire.

“Stay away from me,” she said. She drew out the silver knife and held it in front of her. “Just stay away from me.”

Her death had no distinguishable face yet still Deidre almost felt like it looked at her sadly. It took a step toward her and reached out a hand.

“No!” she yelled. She stabbed at it wildly with her knife and struck its hand, the knife sinking into its shadowy flesh.

Deidre screamed. Icy pain lanced through her hand. She bore no wound yet she could feel the blade stabbed through her flesh. She looked in horror as her death took another step towards her.

She sobbed as she ran away. She ran blindly forward, hampered by the throbbing pain in her hand and lungs. When she looked back her death didn’t seem to be following her, but still she ran in blind panic.
Eventually she saw the dim glow of the bonfire in the fields. It was said that the bonfires of the fall equinox were protective, and she made her way to the very front nearest to the fire. Heat rolled over her in waves and sunk into her body, and for a moment she felt healthy again. But she could feel her death behind her, its breath rattling like old dry leaves in the wind, its body close against hers.

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless

Hammer Bro. posted:

In other news, I've not the creative energy for proper writing this week. But Anathema Device, starr, Djeser, docbeard, and Benny the Snake, your stories tickled my fancy. Each of you may pick a story, not necessarily your own and not necessarily recent, and I'll be givin' that story a detailed crit as my schedule allows for it.

I'd love a crit on my story from last week. Thanks so much! :)

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless

Hammer Bro. posted:

starr - Just making sure we're not counting weeks from Mondays; do you mean the story you posted prior to Two halves of a Whole, or was 2/2 the story you wanted?

Sorry for the confusion, I was interested in a crit for the Two Halves of a Whole story.

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

starr
May 5, 2014

by FactsAreUseless
Thanks so much for the detailed crit! I plan on going back and making it a full short story so it was very useful :) I didn't draw on any specific folktale when I made it, just had the image in my head and went with it. Thanks again for taking the time to crit my story.

  • Locked thread