Fishy Situation

Posted in Fiction on January 18, 2013 by GuNNhead

Fishy

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Time to Kill

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi on January 16, 2013 by GuNNhead

Panel 4: *Takes another sip*

Dialogue

Posted in Fiction on January 14, 2013 by GuNNhead

Waking up to a mulleted guy holding a gun to your face is a great way to start a very bad day. Firstly it’s disorienting, then it gets worse when your room feels turned around, and for some reason your shower door’s in your room, broken. Only seeing both the door to your room and the door to your apartment smashed-in re-orients you, and you notice that you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

“Why’d you do it, man? You can’t just ruin someone’s life like that,” he says.

I recognize him somehow, but don’t know him at all. Familiar face. Before either of us can get answers, I actually wake up. Same side of the bed. Two of my doors are still broken into, however. I launch a quick investigation that’s cut even shorter when I pass by the bathroom on my way to check out the front door and notice an ex-girlfriend inside, wearing one of my towels.

“Oh good, you’re finally up!”
“Finally up? You broke in two of my doors.”
“I knooooow, soooorry, but it was important and you weren’t responding to any of my calls.”
“I never respond to any of you communiques, because I no longer have to. You’re going to pay for this.” I walk away to finish my search of the place. “Come on.” I take her downstairs, where we end up having to wait for the landlord. Apparently the only thing that needs to be on time in their minds is rent.

“I don’t know how you slept through that, I mean, I know how, I saw the empties and know you can black out, pass out, like that, just never knew it was to such and extreme degree. I must have been calling and knocking forever.”
“And the second door?”
“Well, once I was inside and saw your jacket and boots, I just had to make sure you were okay.”
“I swear to grud, women get crazier every year, crazy, crazy bit–” a cat walks by, cutting my thoughts short “Hey- cutie, ” I say to the cat, and pet it. It heads inside, towards the landlord. I didn’t think it was possible for those in their profession to care for things, then it clicks.
“It’s a cute cat.”
“He’s a he.”
“That’s a fucking synthoid and you know it,” I turn to the ex, “come on.”

She pays for the doors, and I march her back up to the apt.
“So, what’s this all about?”
“Oh, nothing now, you know, you’re in such a bad mood. I just really wanted to hear your voice, y’know, see a friendly face, I got worried when you didn’t answer your phone, and panicked.”
“My face hasn’t been friendly since you sliced it during our ‘relationship discussion’ five years ago.”
“Poor choice of words, look, I’m sorry, I just mess things up.”
“I know you do, please leave.”
“I can still call later, right? Is this about the doors? You really need to stop being so sensitive.”
“And now the please is gone. Get out.”

A week or so later I’m at a rooftop party where everyone is wearing those terrible relic Hawaiian shirts. That’s when I see the mullet-guy, I go straight for him when he asks: ‘hey, how goes, man’ in a totally dickish way, smiles and waves. I grab him by the throat, and am about to punch him in the face when out of the corner of my eye I also see him ten feet away, making that very same smile and wave. I realize that I’m strangling someone completely different and let him go. I look around, but can’t see him again. Having made a scene, I grab my coat and leave.

Riding my jetbike home clears my head like 90 miles into a brick wall, and I realize that no matter how important your looks are, you should never steal a time-device from the inventor, especially if you don’t know how to fix it. The memories are fading, but it’s gone from where I stashed it. I call my ex, but there’s no answer.

Octo-Spidey(/Spock) Wallpaper

Posted in Uncategorized on January 4, 2013 by GuNNhead

Octo-Spidey Wallpaper

Time to Go

Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized on January 2, 2013 by GuNNhead

Time to Go

By and By IV

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on September 12, 2012 by GuNNhead

Pocket your life changing winnings here

“No, you idiot, don’t you see? The digital, that’s humanity’s perfection! One may shape themselves, strip their flesh from its own weaknesses. Flaws disappear from the mind as the do the skin within the innerworld.”
“But, Chaice, you weren’t meant for this, this isn’t real.”
“Reality always sounds pessimistic to me. Flat facts, things that are neutral. They simply are. I think it’s the lack of positivity, or purpose, a path that can be followed. Having to make your own decisions is a little isolating, a little cumbersome. People drown in life.
it’s very nice, in life, to pretend, to fake a reality, but the real, blank face of what is, is that there is nothing. there is no meaning, and no purpose. there is no depth. There is no reason. There is no meaning, and there never will be. it’s impossible, for there is no inherent meaning or purpose in the universe. it simply is. So, then, any relations you want to be meaningful are impossible, they will all be meaningless; there is no love. Meaning cannot be created either. perhaps only reason, observing in the past tense. indulge in the meaningless, for it is all there is.”
“But what about our life? Our friendship? If I know me, I’m working on something out there. An what about the plan?”
“I’ll still help fund the project, but I blame you for my death, you were always short-sighted and foolish. Nanites? You damn fool. Just go, I can do better on my own, you may be installed, but you’re still connected.”

You can find a variety of different replicas here.

I continues to boost across the barren landscape, looking for the small spec of a hacker outpost where I might find help for my friend. Arriving, I follow a narrow stairway into the ground, and presses a pattern on a blank dead end. It opens.

“Wey,” A voice shouts at me from the darkness, “long time no see.”
“Well, outerworldly, yeah, I got a big problem, it’s Chaice.”
“How is he?”
“She’s dead, the companymen, it’s all my fault, you gotta help us Elz, you’re the only one I knew who could do anything here. We might need Ceta.” Gillick comes and helps bring Chaice’s body to a more appropriate area of the underground hacker complex.
“What happened?” Elz fiddles around frantically with wires, widgets, and sprockets.
“Went to the Companymen, heard about this new thing, the paradisio drive. We stole some UEC from a NewGov facility, got hard installs on the innerworld.”
“That was you?”
“I’m not sure I can help, Wey, our systems are down. How’d you hear about the paradisio drive?”
“Ceta was talking about it a few clicks ago, I had some connections with some rogue agents to get my hands on one in a secret facility.”
“Have you heard from Ceta since?”
“Least I heard, he was dead.”
“Yeah, same here.” She makes one final connection, and proper lighting returns to the facility, processors and drives can be heard booting up. “Let’s see what we can do.”

By and By III

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on September 10, 2012 by GuNNhead

He’s dead. My best friend Chaice is dead. Her body sits there, brains burnt out. I know a digital copy still exists of him, but she was the original. So unique in every way. The Companymen stare blankly. We all knew this was a possibility. The guarantee stands for deletion, and I am given a savedrive. I boost back to the incorporated community, her body in tow. If I’m fast enough, maybe I can make things right.

Experience the best by playing here, live like a rock star after playing here

In the innerworld, the cities of altlife, home of the first, murder cannot be practiced, it is an alternate society, with real rules, a high tech beacon, in memorium of the outerworld. Proof that peace can be achieved again, or, proof that peace cannot be achieved in the outerworld. The cities are hubs, uniting the remaining outposts, allowing both an escape to the desolate views of the remains of outerworld, as well as a means to share ideas, on a means to rebuild, to prevent what has happened in the past from happening again, a utopia of a resource-based economy, a symbol of what horrors and beauty technology can be used for. A city by the shores. A dream, still, that the innerworld envisions for the outer. If there still are any resources left, that is.

I’m not sure I believe in it, but I’m glad at least a… backup of me escaped the outerworld, that shitpit of ruin. I’m a reborn being, alive in a new world, no longer a visitor, I’m living in the world’s resort. A permanent vacation of fun, useful time. Speaking of; back to the main point (my brain is still processing all of my memories): murder, in the games of the innerworld, it is meaningless. That’s the big fun. It’s what draws the most users, and therefore the most UEC (which are redeemable in the outerworld at certain NewGov, Companymen, 3rd parties, local shops, or various other, less regulated outposts for supplies, if you know where to look.) is NewGov’s Havoc Onslaught. That’s why we’re here, to earn creds for our outerselves, in a big way. We have no lag, we are actually in the game. We’re practically unstoppable, your avatar always survives after the game, and there’s no actual need to sleep. We can just keep winning over and over. It will be so schway. Or would, if playing that game wouldn’t draw too much unwanted attention in these formes. This to high volume of less popular games.

Of course, now that my friend is playing almost only to support her exemplar, I worry for his sanity. Can he stick to the plan with no investment out there? Plus, there’s no telling what dlc he can get that can alter him now, his powers against other users. A lack of focus on life, he could become lost to the game, forget anything he ever was. Or, even in the cities, try to build a new life with avatars. No telling with this tech. I might just be overreacting; I wonder… But there is no time to wonder, for the first round is about to start.