Creative writing, solo or collaborative. A bit of literary fun at bb...

[Guest9337]

Hi everyone, I really like reading and sharing fiction, so thought we could have a thread on that topic. Please post up your creative writings, perhaps expecting or hoping for some feedback from our awesome BB community.

Hi amberlite! Here is a snippet of something I wrote in 2014, I hope you are reminded of your sassy lady! Feel free to add anything you want - maybe describing Stephanie's district or Stephanie and sassygirl's meeting, or even an "old" memory sassygirl/She has about Stephanie. glhf.

She flicked the cigarette into the night, its arc lit up like tracer fire but she didn't see, as she'd already turned her back and was striding the other way.

Before the discarded cigarette had touched the ground She knew her answer to Little Johnnie's "request" would be no, and as the burning remains of tar sizzled in the shallow pavement puddle She calculated the consequences of her decision.
It wouldn't be hard for Johnnie's Crew to take her down at the usual meet place, just too many of them and not enough exits, despite the publicity.

No, this would require a rethinking of the relationship from the environment up. She'd been useful to Little Johnnie for a long time, but now She had discovered a deeply personal reason to turn him down, and worse a recently discovered obligation that has a priority superior to everything else.

Circumstances, data, observations, theories, plots, webs, truths and propaganda flew threw Her head as the now firmly out cigarette was crushed and twisted to wedge into the left shoe of Doby, a quieteye in Johnnie's Crew, tailing a little too close, but still unnoticed due to Her distracted state. Doby stopped and scrapped the cigarette off onto the gutter and hitched his collar up higher against the light rain just now restarting.

Pacing firmly as was Her custom, She was twenty two metres away from the discarded tobacco, when her query to Steph was answered succintely "Yes." which meant that She would walk another one hundred and forty metres to the subway entrance and seek passage to Stephanie's district, literately Stephanie's district...

[Guest9337]

With fun I retort,

Lets us expand upon the theme

so eloquently described above.

Trans we presume is to transcend,

z, the bit at the alphabets end,

implying "s"'s after tran.

Which is even more than three.

Thus we move right and write

now about the crying being

conflated meaning of crybe

rhymes like baby, beautiful and innocent,

kind and gentle with a 102 decibel scream for

more milk please mum.

And rub my tummy please mummy.

So thanks for your generous words,

seems we are both nerds of some kind,

in our own way, just looking for connection

in this new covids' world wide infection.

[Guest9337]

As with numerous societies the one we are creating in this thread will have some members of the faithful, some isolated, some in congregations, some persecuted and all trying to connect in their own particular ways. Thus the following is a snippet of a cyber preacher on a cyber soap box in the virtual space associated with Stephanies District.

Hanging before us with a seemingly two metre sized head and cords dangling from its cranium sides, pale shining skin, eyes covered in grey metal view screens, an oversized mouth and looking similar to both a person with thick dreadlocks or a box jelly fish, we slide on up into the sound field of this virtual space and tune into the appropriate frequency... pssstch...

"Beings we are gathered here today to discard mythology as worthy of itself, and gather the very best bits congruent with our current knowledges, and express them in the following way.
We aim to do no harm to any living creature. We aim to provide benefit to all living creatures. We are forgiving of our imperfect actions or inactions that do not align with the first two aims. We redress the harms and the lacks of benefits to our utmost resourceful capabilities."

And then the dreadlocked person switches to a green tree, still hanging in the air, now with some kind of coloured light glowing up from where its roots should be, but only light and darkness intermingled can be perceived, for that is the direct virtual access into the datastream.

From the green tree comes forth a womanly voice, soothing and kind, metered and musical.
"And the stories and myths about that ideal are really cool, so don’t dismiss them, just make yourself one with them so that even in just 1 second you can express the ideal behind the valuable myth you want to hold onto.
Thus in letting go of old myths we keep their best bits, and are reborn anew into a new world. Peace be unto all living beings, learn your own values and you will need no rules, nor laws, for all behaviour will come from perfect peace."

ffffzzzzttttt. The two yet-to-be-named characters drop out of virtual space and back into their real world locations... which are...

[tranzcrybe]

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Nice retorsion (!), david et al.
Thanks for delving into such microscopic detail
- well beyond my intention, no doubt.
_______________________________________
Onto your snippet...

Strange that this enlightened futuristic race
still relies on analogue tuning!
SO, we have some biblical demigod mechanoid
(resembling Bob Marley with a Jesus complex)
metamorphosing into Buddha's Bodhi tree
with the pronouncements of a woman
straight out of Woodstock.

Okay, it's a complicated pastiche,
but such are the machinations of the mind
to apply known descriptors to the unknown
(excuse my Rumsfeldism)
- difficult to adequately describe
unworldly events using worldly terms.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

[Guest9337]

Ah my dear friend you make me young again,

Analogue tuning, i'm told is perfectly accurate,

Though has more wow and flutter, it is a butterfly of

meaning, not digital bits, or decimal hands,

nor even discrete words, analogue is the wave form

of perfection, even if a little is lost in transcription.

**************

Is a virtual world other worldly, or unworldly or whatever, our story is in the distant future and we can shape it fine over time, say it was that, or was this, but now is that or this, not matter where 'tis.

So A computers' virtual world is itself a binary expression of an analogue waveform, thus not perfectly formed with noise, but instead somewhat accurately formed with noise blotted out, and thus is perfectly repeatable.

"Which is real?", no doubt each the other will say t'other,

Which indeed the water or the seas, or the sky or the space?

Or this new world, called cyberspace!

[Guest9337]

Some "mad genius" sits tapping away at their input devices and works frantically days and nights. Friends come and go and they bring food and drink for this mad genius doesn't attend to their own bodies needs. In the past incidents have happened where the mg, had worked so long in a single sitting they had not even noticed, or rather cared not that they had peed their own pants more than once, and had not eaten for an indeterminate time, nor drunk, but had worked unrelenting.

The primary carer returned from their short trip to find mg in that state, hunched over the work desk unresponsive and stinking. Life went on, but the secondary carer was also discovered dead from a simple car accident and hadn't utilised their software appropriately so that no one could know that the secondary carer was themselves on the way to give care at the appropriate time.

Many things had gone wrong for that incident to even occur, but ultimately stuff happens and some things just cannot be avoided for that first time it happens.

So the mg had done their work and fallen to slumber and had produced the core component of the datacore. The very most basic fundamental code that grew over generations into what eventually permeated the local space of the empire earth. The mg and family became so incredibly rich they owned whole planets and fleets, but none of that seemed to matter to the mg, who as ever simply sat at their workstation doing the things that they do.

And around mg, the family and friends gathered and facilitated and did their own things too, but all paid respect to the founding mg of their uber wealth, who even in our main story still sits at their workstation doing their thing, and often enough the family and friends have no idea what mg produces for they truly cannot even understand much of it.

Some of the code gets distributed for free, and some of the family and friends don't like that, but even though they try, they always fail for mg is a mg.

[tranzcrybe]

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
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011101000110100001100101001000000110010001100001011101000
110000101100011011011110111001001100101001000000110100101
110011001000000110001101101111011100100111001001110101011
100000111010001100101011001000010000001110111011010010111
010001101000001000000110000100100000011101110110111101110
01001101101
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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

[Guest9337]

You've done well their mate, like I salute you. I bow down low for my head has cleared the clouds to see the joy of worms burrowing into mountains of decay.

For amongst the __it, and there is a lot of it, some fine people find the time to take up computer science and learn about binary code. Or not, even today it is easy stuff to translate such code for the few, that care enough to find a way to dare, to dream, to peacefully purposefully communicate, on any date, or time, or anywhere - without any care.

Perchance to dreams unspoken, beloved wishes about someone elses dishes, and clean replies without good byes and gentle running water across a paradise on a new world....

In the pathway of the approaching aliens. For the aliens when last we spoke were about 700 light years from earth, and thus out_there_somewhere in the empire and they will intersect the empires outer most boundary in a location in time and space of their own chosing, for they are above and beyond the milky way galaxy as the hawk is above a worm being chewed by a rat.

Like I could just leave the metaphor there, but ef that, I shall drip a bit more into the Lore We Create Here. After the first wave of stars coalesced, but before the second wave of stars was coalesced, there existed a place in some space that had something quiet normal, for them, but different from all the rest that had been and all the rest that might yet come. For this particular weirdness is "somewhat similar to star trek deep space 9 the bajoran holy prophets = also known as the "worm whole aliens"."

They good fun, outside of time and space, clicky tricky dickies. We have much fun with those dudettes I tell u.

[Guest9337]

Some broad strokes. We will finish writing our story on the exact South Australian date of 8 June 2024 at 5.58 pm.

Our story itself will break down into 12 chapters, with 12 sub chapters each.

The first word and sentence and the last word and sentence have already been written on this beyond blue forum and we hope that the software transfer to the new forum system is awesomely perfect for we do not want to have to write anything twice, that wouldn't be nice.

If such things are lost to the void, well let's just avoid that voided space we do not want to fill.

If it's here, in this post, well that's just fine, i copy paste all mine now.

But if it's before today, or last week, or even last month, I cannot say how good my records are

back then, when "no-reply" was sent, and sent again, and yet again, and so many times I care not to count.

So do a word count before starting the backup, lol, and, lol, after finishing the backup by counting the words,

then count them in reverse and bubble sort the lot to see what comes to the top.

Cause it's there, I bet, we will find the answers to space time.

Betwixt the void, the unseen, the seen to avoid.

[Guest9337]

one techy thingy.

Rich peoples pets are equipped with collars that include a "smart phone" a microphone and camera and gps tracker, and report to autosoftware.

Dog is here ______, and it barking at 60 decibels. report is barking lasting one bark, 2 seconds, then quiet.

Dog is here ________, and extended barking for two minutes at 80 decibels, ai software assess dog is highly threatened and report is sent, dog threatened barking 80 db two minutes, action needed. human now viewing the security cameras after the dogs reported barking.

all from home, done.

[Guest9337]

Quite some way away from the docks there is a family who are gardeners. Dad digs, mum plants, kids play. All that jazz and they just keep doing their stuff whilst the worlds revolve onwards.

They are unaware that their planet is in direct line of travel for the incoming aliens.

Anyone feel like writing something about this family of gardeners who are to see something really big in the sky?