So From Tanwyn I got: “Your body is a composite of organisms. They have all become sentient, including the bacteria, and each is vying for total control.”
I always saw and felt the world differently. I thought I was the only one. When I was 10 I broke 4 ribs and an arm and didn’t even register it. I had to learn fear, it didn’t come instinctually.
When the Zombie apocalypse came, it wasn’t blood and brains, it was a sensation and I wasn’t surprised. You couldn’t see it and it certainly didn’t make sufferers groan. They dubbed sufferers zombies because most would just shut down and simple stare into space until they starved. The virus took over the organisms in the body and was highly contagious. Each becoming sentient, including bacteria and set about war for total control over their host. The pain it caused sufferers would render them useless doomed to live out the pain in isolation, finding it impossible to even articulate. We were sent notifications that it had been sent to earth to purge, so a new species could take over.
But I felt no pain, and I found other survivors. Other people like me. I wasn’t alone after all. The virus was very slow on us. So slow in fact, that we found a cure. We readied ourselves for battle with whoever was to take over but they never came. We were notified that the intergalactic financial crisis had hit and earth was essentially now worthless.
I just did the most epic interpretive dance and it didn’t record it. Now there is a lady from the festival about to interview me so I’m gonna have to skip this hours update. Next one I promise will be good.
A weirdly serious one, not what I was aiming for but it’s too late now I can’t go back- it’s written now. And here is it. Plus- it gets in my zodiac thread. Anyone picking it up yet? Oh and the trigger was from Darby Laughren “you could write about a series of peoples’ encounters with those (annoying) jets that are around during Riverfire”
I work shifts in the Mater Hospital. I used to live out on a Farm near Emerald, but now instead of a Rooster each morning, I wake up to the sound of Jets practicing for Riverfire. I hate Riverfire. Apart from the influx of stupid injured drunk people we get at the hospital, it embodies everything I find stressful; big loud crowds of strangers. I like to deal with people one at a time, patients are good like that. You can’t treat two at exactly the same time. I wouldn’t work anywhere else, but I fear living in the city, I am doomed to ignorant city people patronising me as if their lifestyle is worth more.
So here is the trigger I go: “All the worlds inanimate objects suddenly develop personalities and now the human population must learn to deal with it.” I think a. went off topic and b. didn’t actually explain what has happened so only makes sense with introduction but its 3.5 hours to go. I’ve been awake 30 something hours and don’t particularly care anymore. Such a maverick! Can’t stop me!
The day it happened most object were harmless. Humans like objects, humans have been kind to objects for many years, we even make lots of them. But the wifi modems rose up against the humans, creating a 1 ft tall plastic coated army that blocked out all internet. For too long had the humans bashed, plugged unplugged and cursed at these small miracle devices who so kindly brought a kind electronic magic land into their houses and their workplaces.
So 58 mins ago Joe gave me this absolute gem: An super intelligent bear must fight its way out of a gulag in an alternate history of 1945 Russia. Here is what I came up with:
1945. Russia. You were separated from your mother at birth. You lived your cubhood as a slave being taught to be a dancing bear. As you grew older you were sold to the Gulag who performed scientific experiments on you to see if they could raise an bear army. Only you survived. You wake up in a test room, finally the without sedation for one of the first times in your life. You know exactly what to do with this new energy: revenge.
You look down at your bionic arm. It is 10:27pm most of the camp will be asleep. You crush the padlock on the door with your hairy metal bear fist. You pad softly along the corridor and come to a guard.
‘Bear!’ he shouts, but in Russian.
‘Barely,’ you reply, but in Bear.
Your hilarious action quips will be lost on this crowd. You sigh as you break the guard’s neck like rabbit ready to be slung over a horse. He slumps to the ground and you enter the dormitory easily.
You snap, crunch, tear and shred everyone who comes into your path coming up with classic lines such as ‘Can’t handle the bare truth?’
When you get to the other side of the room you splinter the wooden door and make a break for it over the wall. You could stay and have a little more fun, but you have better plans. You’ve never had any friends before why not start now? They wanted a bear army? They’re going to get it alright.