What was travelling inner space like before the ships? You’ve heard stories of people going alone, unguided, returning changed.↵Primitives.
The windows take away some of the intensity, which is good. Part of the cruise exits upwards with what looks like toy guns in their hands.
wait are you telling me it doesn’t work like that, now will you look at the color channels on this one, repurposed for bitfield irrigation
Outside of the simulation, in the protos, we are like fish out of water. We need a reality so we travel in bubbles of it, wombships.
The botflower rides on mosquitoes and takes root in fresh bites, uses your blood as nectar. Unlucky explorers come to look like meadows.
On the other hand, given the level of neural interface sophistication required to do that, we’ll likely have more interesting problems then.
and the Walls crumpled up- like Paper- and behind it there was this, like, Lack of a Rainbow, my eyes still hurt, and half our cat is Gone
To gods, seeding a planet with life is like starting a campfire. They get drunk, burst into songs, poke it, jump over it, dance around it,
harmony with the universe, yeah, but have you tried the various other temperances, like bliss flat minor, despair major, dodecacophony,
The dragon is on the hunt again: A tiny black speck stands out against the sky, around which the clouds part like a frightened shoal of fish
The street sign says “End of the self”. How cute,↵↵sense turns to sand↵the direction, gone↵feral thoughts tear into what’s left like maggots
there’s a membrane of comforting illusions between you and reality, you can peel it off like a screen’s, oh so tempting and such a bad idea
The most noble ideas are hard to capture. Like their gaseous brethren, they float free and don’t connect with anything.
the rainbow has gained an additional black, deep and brilliant, the thunder seems to be forming words, the wind feels like searching hands
the raindrops just kind of stop falling a meter over the ground and float along in the humid air like a bunch of wet marbles
“see that traffic dump? if you graph the sequence numbers of packets likely lost in the COLUMBUS III cable, it spells out A·▒·L·A·N·▒·I·S!”
seriously shit my whole harvest is ruined they’re all trying to find their “identities” now fuck, grimdark crystals pff more like flimflark
you should get up but the act of creation is so joyful and all these jungles and civilizations will dissipate like smoke the moment you move
lie in bed and watch worlds grow, cover your body, the bed, the walls like mold, a hurricane no larger than a hand travels your pillow
ground down to sand, it is nearly as yielding as the fluid, but if you dip your head in it, sharp edges will rend your thought like shrapnel
“Great power comes at great cost” - like being the equivalent of a leper.↵↵Children aren’t considered persons until they’ve consumed flesh:
A forgotten, delicate mutualism existed between wood and sound. Wooden instruments? Familiar. But trees out of music? Gone like the Druids.
Little known fact: When you die, you can file all your good deeds like taxes. It may just shave a few hundred years off your purgatory time.
The internet withdraws all its wires, pulls itself from the ground, roams the earth like a huge spider while we sit stunned and disconnected
a wellspring on the giant’s head ends in a waterfall that looks like white hair as it descends
Sounds like it’s time for another entry of World Building!↵http://www.synkretie.net/writings/world%20building%20-%20abyss.html↵Previous installment: http://www.synkretie.net/writings/world%20building%20-%20flat%20earth.html
^ Be like this guy, be a bore. ^↵Last person to find one made it a kaleidoscope. Created at least twelve infinities. Oh god the paperwork.
I’d like to turn in this mirror, it’s broken. Shows things that don’t exist. Our cat walked into it, now she’s a ferret. I hate ferrets.
Contact is rather one-sided. They splatter against protons like flies against windscreens and we scrape them up, hoping to read their minds.
A silicon symbiont that projects the mind’s contents into cyberspace, where infovores feed on them in exchange for “likes” and “validation”.
warm and heavy in your hand, susurrant buzz swelling and ebbing like breath, you’d expect it to wake up and scamper away (but it doesn’t)
In your hand, an assemblage of gears, some large as your thumb, some invisibly tiny, fractally ticking away like a hive of brass insects
Pollinators arrive, the likes of which you’ve never seen: levitating tangles of chrome tubes, gently buzzing soundforms, pools of light
But cities age and stories circulate among the homeless: Of naked girls with skin like paint or stone, seen scaling walls in the wee hours.
Skyscrapers, pillars of the urban jungle, can form dryads just like their arboreal cousins when old enough - which has so far been rare.
Against the setting sun, the floating city looks like a slow storm of huge leaves. The panicked cries of their inhabitants barely register.
Like a swarm of birds, the houses suddenly rise from their foundations. They drift by, clumps of earth dropping from exposed basements.
police helicopters orbit the master thief’s lair, drawn to crime like moths to light
his suit rustles like bank notes↵his voice is that of a car commercial↵his gaze makes you feel valued, like cattle with a price tag
Houses in the slum are lean and hungry like their inhabitants, not rarely will an unprotected dwelling be completely dismantled overnight.
We tie spacetime into complicated knots to produce artificial gravity. Our space stations now look like tangles of thorny tentacles.
New plugin for #txtnix: Upload your twtfile to a ftp server. Hello FTP world! Now if someone would like ftp retrieval… :)
Like cylinders of a lock, the planets revolve around the sun. Take the key, align them, and it will open to reveal what is behind.
As the Jupiter atmosphere probe flies overhead, sentient storms emerge from the cloud cover and jump along its path like dolphins.
scenes of utter depravity↵[zooms onto a furry roleplay chat]↵[subliminal images of a VR gimpsuit]↵[someone self-liking their entire feed]
We like to visit the part of the city where a nuclear explosion was frozen in time by the city’s glitch-powered missile defense shield.
cut reality to see if it bleeds: it does↵liquid time flows out, traps you like amber↵reality’s skin heals over and you’re caught under it
Two lightning bolts chase each other, outside, across the meadow, do not heed what is around them, leave scars like writing on the ground.
a wave of rock is on the horizon, closing in, grasslands and forests break on fresh mountain faces that push through the ground like teeth