quickunfinished

[quickunfinished]

Oblivion

Sometimes when i wake from daydreaming everyone is gone. Like everyone just vanishes. Il be in class and one second the crowded lecture hall is loud, but i loose myself in my thoughts and im suddenly alone.

Its not just that too, every time this happens everything seems open almost. Like one time i was daydreaming in class like i mentioned earlier and the next second everyone was gone. Just vanished.

The lights were dark and the only light was creeping in through the windows, and the hallway lights were on too, so I decided to get up and start following them.

My shools hallway cant control which specific lights go on and off, so it was strange to see specific lights go on, lighting a path for me to go along. To the right, down the hall, up the stairs, past the 3rd floor bathroom, and out the roof exit.

Ive never been to the roof, but i imagine its flat, with occasional outcroppings with airconditioning units, vents, etc, and i imagine the sunset must be stellar up there. I used to love the sunset before my daydreams started. Everytime the sun started to set it always felt like there was a demon behind me, always just out of sight, leering with an invisible hatred. And as the sun sets in these dreams i always get more afraid.

I start to feel the demon take over, my feet walk on their own, my hands pull out a cigarette i didnt have before and lay it in my mouth. Eventually im always just on the edge of the danger. One choice away from oblivion.

This time it was different. I didnt expect the demon to look like me. In old media demons were always naked, with fire and brimstone. In modern media they always had suits and ties, with eyeshadow. In yesterdays trance a man who looked exactly like me joined me on the edge.

I can feel the hatred lying behind his eyes. A veritable pot of suffering and rage, directed at anything and everything which can be discribed as having wronged him, or even nothing at all. Even if he is polite he is not kind, there simply isnt an ounce of joy, laughter, or anything positive behind those eyes. The only thing behind those eyes is pure hatred.

"Need a light friend?" He says as he lights my ciggarette without asking. He pulls out one of his own and lights that too, the flame crackles and hisses, and the heat radiates back at me, warming my face against the cool breeze.

He takes a puff and says "so what the fuck are we doing here then? Why are we here?"

Im quiet for a minute. "Im not so sure myself. I suppose i got here myself. One foot before the other." I say, before taking a long drag of my ciggarette. The light flares up, and the tar filled smoke fills my lungs.

"You had it good you know" the man says "you fucked it all up yourself."

"I know that" i say "i tried my best though, that has to count for something right?

"Hell does that matter?" He asks in a way that makes me think hes not asking, hes dismissing. I take another long drag of my ciggarette as he continues "Its the consequences of your actions which count, and the consequences of the things you have done vastly outweigh any good youve done"

The sun is getting lower and the sky is a brilliant blood orange. I say "i threw every fiber of my soul behind recovery. That has to mean something." I look down at the ground below, my feet dangle off the edge as i do.

"It means you failed, and you created more suffering in the world." He says. I take a 3rd drag, as the ciggarette shortens. "You out all that mental torture, all that anguish into making pitiful gains. And for what? So you could fail again and create more suffering? Shameful"

I take another drag. The ciggarette is down to just the filter now. The man gets up and walks back inside from the roof. "Theres an easy way to fix all of this. You would prevent so much suffering, and you are responsible for the actions you dont take."

Then i woke up. Back in class, like nothing ever happened. This is the farthest one of those dreams have ever gotten and ive had a pitt in my stomach ever since then.

Hes right too. I know he is. And i feel myself almost marked for slaughter, living on borrowed time. I dont want to die, but he has a convincing argument for joining oblivion.

[quickunfinished]

The Original gangsters

3 main characters

Protagonist

Old lady leader

Protagonist best friend

Act 1

Protagonist Is a young and struggling entrepreneur who lives in a dingey apartment.

He is profit driven but human. He goes to his stand on the beach, visits a bunch of old ladies at a retirement home, and finally visits his friend at the bar. In the first cycle the friend makes fun of the guy for hanging out with the old people, mentions he dosent like old people.

Cycle again, this time quicker, again, finally one cycle the bar scene is longer. Best friend says (while quite drunk/stoned) "you know what I would do man? (No what?) If I were you i would sell the cookies the grannies give you. (Hahahaha) I'm serious man, they're good cookies, they're giving you them for free, and you could run a baked goods stand, make some serious bank.

He goes to bed and the next day repeats the cycle except he visits the grannies first, collects cookies, then puts them for sale on the beach. Noone buys one, but then a little kid walks up and asks for one. Guy hands the kid a cookie and says "here just have it kid." Kid runs outside, eats part of the cookie, and shares with his mom, who comes inside and orders more cookies for at home, much to the guys shock.

The next day he goes back to his regular stand but notices a lot of people asking for cookies, so he says "alright, sure", visits the grannies, collects cookies, then opens the cookie stand. They are a hit and sell out that day. He looks down at his profits, and they aren't amazing but it's more than he was getting selling shirts.

He does this new cycle, and he sells out again, and visits the bar, and talks his friend into visiting the stall the next day.

Friend does and notices the long line, and after work Protagonist gives the elevator pitch to the friend. "You gave me this idea, and i wanna rope you in on this. I've got a good thing goin. (But what can I do?) What your gonna do is your gonna visit retirement homes, build up a rapport and get to know em you know? (Wait you've been taking these treats from old ladies?) It was your idea! (It was a joke!)... (won't lie the money is tempting... but I don't know how to talk to old folks, and I can't do anything if they don't like me!) "IL teach you then"

Montage scene cues. Instead of going to the bar, the friend and protagonist hang out at protags place and do things. They play curling, they watch black and white sitcoms, and try on outfits. The final scene of the montage is of the friend in a photo, then the phone is taken down to reveal the friend with combed hair, button up shirt, clip on bowtie, and khakis.

The friend collects cookies all day before work and drops off a box of cookies halfway through the day. They start making serious bank and split it 50 50.

Act 2:

Another cycle goes by, friend is talking to a granny (specifically old lady leader, henceforth "OLL") and comes clean about the operation. She gets pissed, draws a flintlock, and fires, missing the friend and nailing a portrait of Jesus.

She yells "come back with my fukin money" as he ducks out of the room. In the bar scene of the cycle they talk about the incident, and protag says "just don't collect from her again." In the next scene, OLL is talking to one of the other old ladies, and reveals the truth to her, and by the end of the night everyone in that old folks home is pissed.

In the next cycle friend tries to collect, but Noone will give him cookies and they run him out of the building by descending on him, very slowly.

He calls up protag says "we got a problem boss, Noone gave me anything" (what do you mean, we got people lined up out the block!" [Cut to drone shot of building, people are lined up arround the block, looping arround and doubling up] "just start working a new retirement home" at this point the grannies are hordeing arround the car, and starting to beat on it "aight boss" friend says as he turns on the engine and slowly drives through the crowd, not running over anyone and getting peppered by baking ingredients.

Act 3: some time passes, and

The gig is working better. The friend recruited more people and the store is booming, but collections are mean, and more akin to "give us the cookies"

The protagonist realizes he could make more money by cutting out the friend by firing him, paying the collectors the same and pocketing friends cut.

Protag says "it's not personal, it's just business" fires him and says "I still wanna stay friends tho". Friend says "yeah" because he's polite, but he's pissed. He visits the first retirement home and talks to the receptionist. There is a telegram and an old camera that didn't used to be there.. The scene goes like this.

F " howdy! I'm here to see OLL"

R: *looks up from newspaper, looks up down then back up* "Sure, one minute hon"

They have a very quick conversation in Morse code. The conversation goes like this.

R: there's there's young man, perhaps 20, here to see you.

OLL: can you send me a picture of him?

*the receptionist stands up, takes a picture of the man, and goes back to the telegram*

OLL: I see, bring him in.

R: yes boss

The old lady stands up, and walks behind the man, and pulls a handkerchief out of her purse. Says "hey, how does this handkerchief smell?" And smothers his face with it, he passes out. He regains conceousness and is being dragged by two people in electric wheelchairs. There's a burlap sack over his head. They drag her into OLL's room. (Which has propped open double doors.)

They drop him off, cuff his wrists, and remove the burlap sack. OLL is sitting in an armchair, with two old men holding muskets tailing her. She has a saber.

The conversation goes like this.

O: you got a Lotta nerve coming here, punk

F: (remembering his montage) "oh dearie me, I seem to have caus-

O:*drawing her saber* "I KNOW YOUR TRICKS. *puts it up to his neck* you have exactly one minute to tell me something good before I gut you like a fish you scallywag!

F:"Protag fired me!"

O: *pulls back saber* elaborate

F:He fired me from the business to pinch pennies, and I want to turn on him"

O:*laughs* so you are a rat? See old folk don't like rats very much, usually we just exterminate them. *motions towards guards, they raise their muskets

F:"but I a useful rat! I can tell you where the shop is, where he lives and where he drinks!

O:*motions to stop* *thinks for a minute* alright, your gonna write all that down. See we let useful rats go, but we gotta see if your useful or not, so we're gonna keep you in a cage while we figure out if your useful. Hand over your new fangled devices.

F: could you free my hands?

O: *motions. Guard uses the Bayonett on his rifle and slices the zip tie.*

F* hands over his device.

O: attempts to turn it off but struggles, passes it back and says "could you turn this off for me dear?"

F:*stands up and turns it off*

O: *thanks dear. Motions towards the other guard who hits him over the head with the butt of the rifle and knocks him out cold.*

Final cycle.

Guy wakes up to find his house trashed. There's an old lady across the street birdwatching who sends a signal through a walkie talkie with a telegram mixed in.

He goes to work and begins working the counter. It's a slow day. He steps outside for some air, and there's an old man riding a penny farthing. He goes back in, and as the old man rides by he draws and shoots 6 flintlock pistols. Noone dies, all the shots miss.

He figures out it was probably friend who said something. He gets pissed and goes to bar since he isn't answering his phone. He goes in, drinks, and steps outside, going down the alley.

There's an old lady walking down the road. He looks at her, says "oh shit" and runs the other direction. A horse drawn carriage drives in and 2 old people pop out, Kettering him in this alley.

More old people fill up the alley, and they all beat him up. Eventually he is beat badly, and OLL approaches, spits on him, and kicks his body. He bleeds out on the ground and dies.

Roll credits, fitting ironic song.

Post credit scene: friend is freed and kicked out of the old folks home, and said to never show his face there again.

[quickunfinished]

Sympathy for the devil

The man walks before Satan's asphalt throne, atop the tallest tower in hell, the ash and dust clouds swallowing all light and making viewing the ground impossible.

Satan looks up from his drink and speaks "ah I see! You're done well by the big man's standards. Spreading good and love. It makes me sick. You know, a good many of the people you helped didn't deserve it.

"I know"

Then why? Why would you help those who don't deserve it"

"I reject the premise of the question. They do deserve it, everyone does"

"Really now? Cuz if I open this here book," he said while snapping his fingers causing a Bible to appear in his hands" there's some pretty vile shit. Genocide, slavery, all perpetrated by the big man, the very same big man who sent you down. How's that make you feel?

"Frankly i think those actions are horrific. I think the words that spread hate are horrific. I don't want to spread hate, I wish to spread love"

"Love? And where do you get that, from the big man?"

No, I had to cultivate it.

"Horseshit."

It's true. I was born queer in a town that hates queers, where the tree that they lynched black folk on was kept as a reminder of their bloody past, and I lived in hatred for my early life."

"You were doing so well! What changed?

"A Satanist taught me how to stop being bitter, and how to love someone for who they are."

"HA! Pretty shit Satanist huh... how can you love? Every card was stacked against you. God sent you down to be a failed second coming, he sent you down so that you would die in agony, and you would be sent to hell for failing, in his own plan. He is not logical.

"I know that, and I do not trust him, but I am not angry.

Why! You have every right!

"Of course you have a right to be angry, but existence is about moving beyond that. You were cast from heaven as foretold in the divine plan so to provide a corrupting force to the humans below, and to punish them for sin yes?

Yes

But why punish them? If you are angry with God then why serve your function as he wishes?

Because the crimes of the humans make me sick. Every bad thing God does, the humans respond in kind. I don't even need to push them. All I need to do is say "hey, murder is an option too" and they take it.

That answer feels incomplete.

Well to be candid I also have no other outlets. How else am I supposed to contain my rage?

Take my soul. Do unto me as you would have done to the sinners in hell, and spare them the torture of eternal suffering. Extract as much joy from my suffering as you wish.

You think I get joy from this? This makes me miserable! Every nanosecond my hatred for God grows with my hatred for my situation

It dosent have to be this way." The man walks forward and hugs satan. "Leave all this to rest, and spare their souls."

Satan draws his dagger and jams it into the man's back, lodging between his ribs and jabbing him through the heart.

The man looks with a tear in his eye at satan and says "if that's what needs to be done then I'm OK with that. I'm sorry you had to go through all that" the man says as his soul withers away, his representation becoming dust and joining the clouds as his robes fall to the ground.

Satan paused for a minute, and pondered. Eventually the hellfire died down until it stopped, the machines of eternal torture ground to a halt and the chains rusted away, and satan took a deep breath. He moves to a field exactly the same as how he first found it when he was cast down, and he lies down, letting his rage die alongside him.

[quickunfinished]

Character descriptions for short comic

Character descriptions for short comic

Protag.

Dark hair In modern male spike

Button up shirt.

Gray slacks with a black belt

Shiny black clogs

Thick frame black glasses

Loose black tie

His appearance will slowly change to make him look like killer.

Homeless man

Brown coat, very dirty, stained.

Dark blue polo style shirt

Baggy stained camo cargo pants

Torn Brown boots

Killer

Unrecognizable face.

Glowing red eyes

Torn button up shirt with bloodstains

Bloodstained gray slacks

Muddy and bloody black clogs

Loose black tie

[quickunfinished]

Short comic storyboard for a one off comic i wanted to make but never got arround to cuz i cant draw

The title is a picture of the alley( which shall be described) with the title info over it

The first few panels are as follows. All of them have gray static over it.

[ ] A man in silhouette hands a pink slip to protag.

[ ] Protag puts office supplies in box, and brings it outside

[ ] protag walks into apartment building

[ ] Protag opens mailbox

[ ] Protag grabs overdue bill letters

[ ] :protag walks up stairs with box

[ ] :protag stands in apartment doorway with box

[ ] Protag puts box on table

[ ] Protag looks at letter on table that says "it's over"

[ ] Protag crumples it

[ ] Protag drops it in trash

[ ] Protag exits apartment building,

[ ] Protag turns down alley. Down alley you can see a sign that blurrily reads "liquor"

[ ] Protag walks down alley. Alley has a fence with razor wire, but is open.

[ ] Protag can see full liquor sign

[ ] A homeless man walks just behind protag. Dislodge ensues

H: do you have any spare change?

P: no sorry

H: please sir I know your on your way to buy liquor. Please give me money so I can eat

Protagonist stops

Protagonist turns arround, very pissed

P:what the fuck do you know about my life?

Homeless man holds his hands up, is apologetic

H: I'm sorry si-

Protagonist is even more angry

P:YOU don't know shit about me!

Homeless man is more defensive

H:I've seen you go to that store sometimes. I. I.

Protag is even angrier

P:you what? spit it out your dirty mouth!

Homeless man gets on his knees and puts his hands together to beg

H:please sir there's no food in my belly

P is disdainful and pissed

P: if I gave you money you would just spend it on liquor!

Homeless man is confused

H: but sir, you were-

The rage explodes in p. He instantly kicks the Homeless man across the face. Blood comes from his nose and teeth are knocked out.

Protag picks up a pipe from off to the side and walks twords the Homeless man.

Protag gets on top of the Homeless man

Protag grabs the Homeless man by the shirt

Protag (while still gripping the man) hits him twice in the face.

Protag let's the man go. He is bloodied but it is clear he is still breathing.

"GOT NOTHIN TO SAY PRICK?"

The man raises the pipe above him, ready to bring it down on the man.

Extreme closeup of protags enraged face.

Just then the static filter is dropped. There's another extreme closeup of him in a neutral face. They show him in the same spot, but now standing. Clean outfit.

Protag is confused now. He looks arround but sees nothing. Audibly says "huh, that was weird" and continues walking tword the liquor store.

A man turns the corner.

He is approaching protag, he is holding a bloody pipe, and his facial features are obscured except for his eyes which glow red.

Emphasis shot on the pipe.

Emphasis shot on the eyes.

Extreme closeup of Protag

Protag runs away, stepping in a puddle.

Protag sees gate, but the gate is locked

Protag dashes into a convenience store

Protag hides behind the product shelves

Killer walks in. Stands in doorway for several shots, from various angles.

The killer steps in.

He looks down various aisles, and protag shuffles to not be seen

He turns down an aisle.

Protag shuffles down aisle next to it.

Protag hides behind display case.

Killer stops and looks at display.

There's an entire page panel where the Killer looks directly into the camera through the display case, while the protag looks away slightly, hands covering his mouth.

The camera is above, the Killer breaks through the case and grabs protags shoulders

He then pulls him through the case. This tears protags shirt

Protag crawls away. As he does a shot shows killer crushing his glassew

Protag lifts himself up with stool as Killer approaches

Protag limps away from Killer.

Protag exits

Killer exits

Protag runs a little bit until he hears the Killer shout stop. Eagle eyed viewers will notice this scene has the same backround as the scene where protag beat the Homeless man

The Killer says this as he approaches.

"Don't you think it's awful rich to run? You know, killing you is gonna be great.

close up shot

Have you ever stomped on a roach? Well they crackle due to their exoskeleton.

It's a similar noise your skull is gonna make.

He brings up the pipe and inspects it.

And the best part is I won't need to feel bad, after what you did to that homeless man

Protag shouts out "YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME"

Killer laughs "really now? How can that be?"

Extreme closeup of killer "I am you"

Protag is beyond pissed. He clocks the killer.

The pipe is knocked from his hands to the same pose it was in earlier.

The killer lies in the same pose as the homeless man was in.

Protag picks up the pipe

Protag gets on top of killer.

Protag grabs killer by the shirt. Clocks him, leaves him in same pose as homeless man.

The protag lifts the pipe.

He shouts "I AM NOTHING LIKE YOU"

The pipe comes down. The same effect that the killer had when he hit the protag is on the killer now.

He hits 3 times. First time he hits the killer. 2nd time it shows his face getting bloodied in 2 frames where blood splashes on

3rd time it shows the pipe connect. There's no flashy effects, just a bloody homeless man with a caved in skull in normal lighting in real life.

The camera goes above protags shoulder and looks down to show the homeless man in frame too.

Side view of protag. He has his hand over his face. He begins to laugh.

He turns twords the camera, revealing the face of the killer, as the world behind him is enveloped in laughter.

[quickunfinished]

Untitled

As Stephanie steps into the room under the disguise of Charlamaign, holding a platter with a sleek white button up shirt and slacks, she gazes out upon the room, which is bathed in moody light, with gaudy gold accents. The room is covered in gold leaf in intricate patterns, and a deep mahogany wood base. The room is styled like a restaurant, with booths lining the walls and the internal support beams, with a high ceiling that makes sense given the fact that the veneer of the building outside is a warehouse.

She made a few rounds running orders and food when she saw exactly who she was looking for bald shiny head, Caucasian skin tone, chin dimple, blue eyes, wide jaw, and round features. What she did not expect was a remarkably charming smile and a calming, friendly demeanor. She approached him, and approached to take his order.

After she approached, he chortled under his breath. "Miss, can you sit down for a minute?" She was shocked. This wasn't in the plan. She, confudedly, obliged, sitting opposite to him, when a different waiter approached. Shit! She got overager and got too close.

The waiter put the platter infront of them, a dome concealing the contents, Stephanie's reflection warped revealing a distorted view of the whole restaurant. "Miss you know who I am right? Surely you know that I own this restaurant correct?" She nodded, shrinking herself down to make herself look like less of a threat. A smile, uncharacteristically cruel, wide grin stretching across his face. He lifts the platter dome to reveal a rack of ribs, glazed in a bourbon sauce that glistened under the dim light, with a generous portion sizing, decorated with fries and lettuce garnish underlying the fries, all placed in a radial pattern. A pedestal for the meat. The air arround me was filled with a sweet, sappy scent, as I began to feel my mouth salivate involuntary.

He grabs a serrated knife and a fork, and very delicately peels himself off a rib. "Do you wanna know something fascinating about biology?" Before I could respond he continued: "human meat, if you just hunted someone off the street and ate their corpse, is toxic." He finished cutting the rib from the rack. "People eat meat, and that meat absorbs toxins from the enviornment, they build up in the body" he says as he puts the rib on his plate. "So what do you do if you want to remain clean but eat human meat? It tastes quite good you know. It's just not... how you say, sustainable." He says, with a little hand motion as he ties a Bib arround his neck, somehow still remaining elegant. "So, if you wanted safe human meat, is you could genetically modify grass, to have all the nutrients the average human needs to live. Then you just need a few humans to start your farm. They are raised from birth to know that the left pipe is the grass pipe they eat from, and the right pipe is water." He brings a rib to his mouth. And In one bight he chomps on it, tearing the flesh from the bone, so it all goes to his mouth. He swallows it all whole without chewing, and washes it down with a deep brown brandy, in a shallow, grooved glass cup.

" and then when you slaughter them your doing them a service! Their life is so miserable, they have nothing to look foreward to! Your doing them a favor if anything." He cuts himself another 2 ribs

"Eventually you decide that this is just too tasty to not share. Food is an artform, no?" He says, eating the ribs with his hands, tearing into them breathing between bites.

"But the world..." He bites "the worhld isn soh uhndersthanding" he swallows. "so you rent an abandoned warehouse and build your restaurant in secret. You invite your closest friends first, and their family. Pretty soon you have high ranking politians hooked on your superior product." He bites into it. He dosent realize he bit through the bone, the crunch echoes trouought the space, as people carry on with their pleasant conversation. "Now you are untouchable. Your rich and eat like a king every damn day, and only 2 people had to go missing. Its a great scheme huh." Stepanie silently nods. The man takes the meat off the rest of the bone and begins sucking the marrow from the bone.

He throws the bone onto his plate as he brings the platter closer to him. He begins utterly engorging himself in the platter. The man finishes it within minutes, leaving the fries and lettuce untouched. Once he is done, he dabs his face with his Bib, and stands up. "Here, come with me detective, I have something to show you.

[quickunfinished]

A desperate attempt to mock andrew worhol

The only stage is a table, with a chair, and a party blower.

A man walks onstage to center stage. He is wearing a party hat and a simple outfit

He sits into his chair robotically and blows into his party blower

He opens the burgerking bag and gets out a burger. He starts eating.

"Mmm. Hmm. What is a birthday party? According to vocabulary.com

*checks bottom of burger wrapper*

a party held on the anniversary of someone's birth"

Well what is a party then? If noone came is it a party? Well according to vocabulary.com

*checks burgerking bag*

"an occasion on which people can assemble for social interaction and entertainment"

People. Plural. But *checks arround* its just me. Did i fail? Is this my fault? I dont know who to invite. Im not sure if there is anyone else.

*looks arround. Checks under table. Checks in bag*

This was rigged from the start. I was put in a world with no way to achive my goal. A character without a story. Huh. Wacky and weird.

This burger is kina dry.

[quickunfinished]

A very rough draft

Every time it rains the window sounds like static. Or well, a static sound effect. Its been decades since the last cable tv went offline and now the only proof of these classic sound effects we have is recordings. Long ago digitized and used for atmosphere, ripped out of context.

Thats what the rain on my window sounds like. Its a comforting noise almost, it feels real compared to everything else in my room. Polyester bedsheets, vynl vaneer wood desk, peeling wallpaper that once looked like a sky blue, now rotted and decayed into a dark twisted green that looked purple when i pulled up the blinds and let the light pour in from the glowing sign.

My desk is cluttered. Always has been. Its been covered in failed projects and trashed stories since i could remember. Theres an ash tray on my desk which i reporpused to be an insence burner. Its black vaneer has chipped away, letting the copper underneath rust to be a sickly green.

Back when i had a monitor that was always messy too. Spilled drinks left resisue i never bothered to clean, and my keyboard had a thick layer of dust and danderuff in it. I dont really have a monitor anymore however. The biolink is simply more convenient, and with my biolink head jack its trivial to plug myself into my computer and get anything i want beamed into my mind. Image fidelity isnt even a factor, the space is constructed arround me, and i can view it better than any human eye could.

Just like every other day i sit down in my pleather chair to jack in. Its comfortable, but the fake leather is peeling, the cotton is coming out, and some of the staples are coming out. I have a jack stand, which just surmounts to an aluminum bracket, poorly mounted on the wall to hold the biojack cable.

Once i slip the cable in and shut my eyes a world emerges from the blackness, with a luxorious living room with a white fur rug, a black table, and elegant walls. Everything has gold accents, and an inset triangle pattern, looping and getting fractally smaller and smaller.

The house has no walls aside from its outer walls, and is built in an L shape. At any given point you can generally only see 2/3 of the house, and with some clever cubic bookshelves it gives the house little spots with designated functions. The southernmost chunk is the trophy room. Any acomplishment ive made gets its own section of shelf to be celebrated. As you walk through the golden trophies shimmer in the beautiful light as you wander. Its a small space but you can get lost easily enough.

Then theres the livingroom, which is in the corner. This is where you go if youve just entered from cyberspace which has a tinted glass door, which leads into the hub automatically. It has a fur rug, topped by a black coffee table and a stark white leather couch. There is a digital screen which hovers just infront of the wall, perfectly flat and 2 dimensional. Yeah i still watch flat media, im a hipster. Bite me.

Then in the final corner i have my artspace. I make money by selling 3d models. I do some client work but mostly i make generic models and sell the rights for cheap. I loved it.

I step to my digital mirror in my room and my avatar stares back at me. A tall woman, with a short black haircut and sharp facial features. This isnt what i look like in real life, but it makes me look hotter, so thats ok.

Currently my character is wearing a black coat and a white undershirt, with an accent in the form of an embroidered chain on the edges of the coat. I contemplate weather or not a tie would work, and flip flop before deciding to ditch the tie.

Once i have it on i walk up to the door and type "the glitz#1027" into the destination console. Every cyberspot has a name and a number tag associated with it, and the spot im going to is one of my favorites, as it fits my aesthetic perfectly. Hell i know the owner and designed a good portion of their furniture

When i get there i walk in, claim my reservation spot, and wait. And wait. Finally she arrives. Shes stunning. Bright red dress, with an opening along the legs to reveal her thighs, and her curves highlighted by the light. She sits with a dainty grace, and smiles at me with that gorgeous smile. We've been dating for about 5 weeks now and yet she is still as gorgeous as the day i first saw her.

She takes a seat and we begin talking. Its as if the whole world fades away, and her silky smooth voice is the only thing that matters. Her velvet red lips move sensually and her face looks elegant and pointed, as though she has been crafted to appeal to every sense of mine. After an hour of talking i eventually screw up the courage and ask "when am i gonna get to see your place?" "Huh?" "Well i wanna know more about you" "haha, anyways" and she continues on.

Come to think of it i dont remember what she was saying. I cant remember a single conversation with her, so i pull out my console and check her information. I keep nodding yes as she speaks as i dig through. Shit, her info is password protected. I pull out a brute force module and plug it into the console and within miliseconds its tried every possible combination, and found a password. "FhRc#9926!"

Shit. Fake human, real connection. Those scumbags. They make virtual sex dolls. Fuck fuck no it cant be. I look through her information more. Fuck what is her name even? Fuck bro, an agreement module? A charm module? How did she get permissions to run these? God damnit. When i turn them off i see a green mesh facing me. Just ones and zeroes, humming, and being processed to sound like charming speech.

My fucking god she was a chatbot the whole time. I disconnect from the glitz immediately and i sit onto the white couch. Fuck bro this couch isnt real either. The fur on the rug never belonged to an animal, the trophies are 3d models, with a shiny texture. None of it is real. God im a fool, fuck FuCk FuCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

I disconnect and open my eyes, immediately launching myself out of my pleather chair and on my knees. My hands are on my biojack, where protrudes from the back of my head. I get my hands on the jackplate, and i pry, and I pry, and I pry. The pain fills every ounce of being, every logical part of my brain is telling me to stop, but i keep pulling. Eventually i yank the biochip out of my head, as blood and brain matter splatters across the room.

Pain. The only thing my mind feels is pain. My entire body is involuntairily recoiling from the pain. Eventually the pain subsides into an intense heat. The world seems to fade arround me and my honest room goes dark.

[quickunfinished]

Presented without comment

[quickunfinished]

God I hope noone finds this