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Rachael Abandon

Stories are stuck in my head; time to let them bleed onto paper.

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  • 01-01-70
  • Viviendo en United Kingdom

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Rachael Abandon
Traducciones   13 años

Anyone Else See This? I've seen taking small moments on the tram to work on my fiction story piece by piece. I don't get much time, but I needed to sit down and see if I was alone in this. When I describe Samarishi district to you, I doubt that the English language has enough words to fully convey the amount of advertising that saturates your vision fully of neon billboards in a million colors being projected in intense vibrancy. Normally, no subject is held back from the public, from adult movies to children's toys, but today was a women's day out held throughout the shopping layers of Samarishi's nine. The advertisements show glistening models in all sorts of usual luminary makeup, spine graphs, vat grown cyber enhanced crystal eyes, you name it- pictures of computer manipulated and machine made perfection. Its only the top-dwellers who show up on these screens; you know, the ones who can pay for all this shit. That's why when I saw her, I stopped in my tracks. She was pure, like the real wind or the real sun against your skin. The girl was maybe six years old, seven possibly. She just stood there, standing. The background was a dull brick wall. These were the same cheap bricks you could find all over the lowest levels. Beige clothing, several shades lighter than her clean skin, was hanging from her frame as she just peered back with deep, dark eyes- real eyes. This girl was completely pure. Pure! She didn't have any implant ware that was visible, no scars from surgeries, no perfectly dyed or styled hair, no even toned skin. Everything about her was birth given. It was all her DNA, raw, exposed, and for that fleeting moment, her dark image caused the entire street to blink. Billboards don't stop. Ever. They run constantly with a barrage of ads for five to ten seconds at a time, yelling and coloring the streets and pedestrians who walk them. Crowds make enough noise, but when you bring the addition of the marketing, the world is a constant low roar. People from outside the city claim that it can be intensive, but how could deal with all that silence? All there exists is you in that moment. When this girl flooded all the screens, she paused the world. The silence was the span of a single pair of eyes blinking. She deafened the world. I looked around, at people, at more screens, and anything I could immediately. No one had noticed. It was just a flash, but I can see it just as clear if you put a vid screen in my face with it up again. No one but me stopped, not one but me gawked, no. one. else. Asking people around, they didn't know what I was talking about. When I got home tonight, I scoured the Net for any semblance of what I had seen. It's been mentioned, but no one is really outright talking about it. I still can't find the image anywhere- some friends of mine cracked the Lensonet's main server as a favor, but we still couldn't find the image anywhere in the current running ads. Did anyone else see this? Was it a hacker that got cut off too quickly? Was it some mega corporation that paid out the nose to put her up there? What was it for? I don't know, but it was so weird I doubt I'll sleep tonight. #strange #cyberpunk #mystery

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    Rachael Abandon
    Traducciones   13 años

    Veins of Promise The snowdrifts that coverage the southeast passage, known as Frendarl's Vein, were no higher than they previously had been in centuries past. Stories had been passed from generation to generation about Frendarl, the God of ice, winter, death, and sleep. The Ka'heching people believed that the passage was just one of the many roads that lead to the heart of their chilly god, and only further south would lead you to his avatar, Frenkai. None had ever come back from such a pilgrimage, despite the promise that Frendarl, if pleased, would turn the name of the traveler in favor to the other of the Ka'heching Gods. Frendarl was known to have a close and sometimes intimate relationship with Tiavian, Goddess of war, nightmares, illusions, and tricks. The Ka'heching reasoned that nightmares were a sign that Frendarl and Tiavian were together- if a person had a nightmare, it was due to Tiavian's demand for Frendarl's touch as Frendarl was granting sleep upon the world. Visions of monsters, death, cruelty or other terrifying concepts were the only way that the people's minds could interpret the immense power that came from Frendarl and Tiavan when they became one. This idea of carelessly effecting people bothered Waidte, God of luck, wind, chance and fate, who was jealous of Tiavian for Frendarl's affections. The Ka'heching people reasoned away nightmares as signs or warnings as it displeased Waidte when they chose to interpret such inconsequential illusions. Instead, Waidte had long ago instructed them that he would choose from each populace a representative that he would send cryptic whispers. Waidarlkai's, sons and daughters of the bridge between Frendarl and Waidte, were the messengers of fate to the people. It was only in the throws of passion that the whispers could be heard. * * * * * * Vibrant blue contrasted the blinding white gentle snow banks that piled like blankets across the mountains broad shoulders- not to unlike the furs that wrapped Sanei now. Her tiny frame was made massive underneath the exterior of pelts that she held dearly. Three moons had journeyed across the sky since the dawn of her leaving Portfaultus- the largest modern city in the realm of Dardenfel, jewel of the Ka'heching peoples. Rich in trade, church, and knowledge, it was the destination of every person, young and old to visit once in their short #lifetimes. However, it was no longer the goal of Sanei's heart. Frendarl's Veins held fast in her mind. Rarely did Waidarlkai have visions from the gods themselves, nor did they have them of the gods.

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