#SPECULATIVE FICTION

[simon-roy]

REFUGIUM (the Griz Grobus Sequel) IS NOW LIVE ON KICKSTARTER! REFUGIUM is a hardcover sci-fi graphic novel about a scribe and a trapper, who find themselves going up-river into the northern wilds of Altamira - in search of a monster. Featuring over a hundred pages of comic art, a 20+ page guidebook to the alien life of Altamira by @jordankwalker , and an additional 30+ pages of alien life artwork from artists like @turndecassette2 @jayrockin @cmkosemen @alexriesart @iguanodont and many more...

Take look HERE at the campaign, and prepare yourself for immersion into a world both alien and familiar...

#simon roy #comics #griz grobus #habitat #scifi #kickstarter #sciencefiction #image comics #miramar #specbio #speculative worldbuilding #speculative zoology #speculative fiction #speculative biology #spec bio #speculative evolution #xenobiology #spec evo #selfpublished

[sinosauropteryxjuice]

Frederic Wierum, fredward95 on instagram, Fred the Dinosaurman on youtube. May 18th 2023. Zookeeper with Allosaurus.

#allosaurus #paleoart #art #dinosaur #paleontology #zoo #zooanimals #speculative fiction #cuddles

[juicyolpickle]

If Wompers from my project (Land Of Borease) where selectively bred like todays dog breeds.

#xenobiology #alien species #spec bio #spec evo #speculative biology #speculative evolution #speculative ecology #speculative fiction #artists on tumblr #speculative worldbuilding #land of borease

[iguanodont]

My Illustrations for an incredible short story written by a good friend of mine: a tale of two rival clans settling a debt, in a trial by blood and fire….

“The two clans gathered as the singing moon set, leaving its brother framed by the indigo of dying day. There was little discussion, only lines of tension across antennae and heads holding violent eyes. Only the occasional, nervous trill from a child broke the silence.

The clan to the southeast, those of the Tayenna river, parted to allow their matriarch forward. Like her kin, her fur was near the color of the clay riverbank they lived upon, lightly flecked. She was richly adorned with polished shells set into lattices of wood running along her chest and back, treasures many years of leadership had afforded her. She stood in front of her people, canting her head so only one red eye observed the clan opposite.

They of the Keeshor valley bristled at the arrogance. Their leader was already at the front, as bay as Tayenna’s matriarch, though his coat was solid in pattern and youth, and he wore simple paint. He took several solid strides forward to meet the matriarch, both eyes fixed on her….

If you’d like to read the rest of this short story, you can find it here! Small cw for some descriptions of violence

#this was such a fun collaboration #birgworld #illustration #speculative fiction #writing

[mayasynth]

My beautiful unhinged daughter, Mary Elizabeth Frankenstein <3 I know this was not at all how the scene actually went, but humour me

(Pssssst everyone please read Our Hideous Progeny, pleaseee 🙏)

#Is it cringe to do fanart of your own book? Maybe so. But I DON'T CARE! :D #Attention everyone!!! I wrote a book and you should read it!!!!! #It's got mad science!! It's got sapphic Victorian yearning!! It's got Victor Frankenstein's great-niece!! #She's here she's queer and she's filled with rage for the systematic injustices of 19th century science! AND A ZOMBIE PLESIOSAUR! #Our Hideous Progeny #OHP #readblr #bookblr #queer books #book blogging #writers on tumblr #fantasy books #2023 books #books #fantasy #scifi #fantasy fiction #sapphic #speculative fiction #gothic #victorian gothic #gothic literature #gothic fiction #dark academia #victorian #victorian fiction #science fiction #sapphic books

[hezzabeth]

There was someone singing in the greenhouse, someone with a pitch-perfect deep voice. Revati closed her eyes, pressing her ear against the glass door.

In a field where the paper daisies grow,

Underneath the sun's harsh glow,

I wander through, light and free.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The smoke coils in the sky far above,

But your petals still dance around me.

Don’t be afraid; soon the rains will come.

Everything lost will grow again.

Paper daisies, pink and white,

Your petals so bright.

I sing to you as the world beyond burns.

The stars begin to rise,

My hands scooping your seeds.

Soon you will take flight

Towards the soft moonlight.

There was an old, prop piano in the abandoned Holly Bush Tavern. The only person who could play it properly was Mr. Gupta. During holiday festivals, he would coax melodies out of the sticky keys while Mrs. Gupta sang in a nasal voice. This was different. The singer’s voice filled Revati in a place she didn’t know was empty. The singing stopped abruptly as Revati’s weight caused the door to creak. Of course, the door creaked. The greenhouse was a wobbling claptrap box made out of welded-together old windows. Miss Grassroots, a tourist who had been dead for almost six years, had built it. Inside lay the heart of Baker Street. The heart had begun as a rose garden. Nanni was the one who began picking up the fallen red petals, drying them, and turning them into tea.

Revati only had vague memories of the first day of the invasion. Mrs. Grasston and Dusk had invaded the kitchens and gift shops. Together they managed to pool together seeds and cuttings in order to grow a small food supply. There was a wall of tomato vines, grown from several seeds found in old slices left in the bin. There were the garden beds where the potatoes and carrots grew. In fact, the potatoes were what kept Baker Street from starving to death. Next to one of the largest windows, the herb and weed boxes grew. Revati’s father was the one who ripped open gourmet tea bags in their home, discovering dried seeds inside. Bridgadeiro Bun was sitting under the lemon tree. “You’re a pretty good singer,” Revati said gruffly. “I was just trying to cheer up Deshia; she’s been feeling a bit depressed lately,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree's trunk. “Who’s Deshia?” Revati asked, faintly confused. “The lemon tree, of course! She said nobody's chatted with her for years,” Bridgadeiro said. Suddenly, the tree shook its branches, causing a fresh lemon to fall into Bridgadeiro’s lap. “Thank you for the gift, sweetheart,” Bridgadeiro said, patting the tree again. Revati stared at the lemon tree, not quite sure what to think. Could a tree really be depressed? It would explain why the lemons were so withered and small.

“All Buns speak plant; it's the same gene that causes our pink hair," he said. Revati glanced around, her eyes briefly falling on the giant pumpkin vine near the door.

"Are the plants talking right now?" Revati asked curiously.

"Most of them fell asleep hours ago. When they were awake, they just kept jabbering on about a golden lady," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"So, the lemon tree is depressed? I could get Aurora to come in here and read to her," Revati conceded.

"It's more than that. She misses the lady who planted her; she doesn't understand why she vanished and never came back," Bridgadeiro remarked. Revati found her hands stroking the book of fairy tales nervously.

"If she's talking about Mrs. Grassroots, she died," Revati replied flatly. Six years ago. Six years ago, there were over a hundred tourists living on Baker Street. Nanni, who had spent years living with mother, insisted on moving into an abandoned hat shop near the edge of the park.

The day the tornado hit was the same day Nanni decided to tell Revati all about her family history.

"I always carry the death stone in my handbag, along with everything else I'd ever need in an invasion," Nanni pointed out. Technically that was true; Nanni's giant handbag was filled with almost anything.

Outside, Revati could hear her father trying to roll down metal shutters. There was the sudden horrible roar, and Nanni's wall exploded in a cloud of rubble.

"A lot of people died," Revati finished, her voice trailing off. First came the tornado that caused a gap in the mirror walls. Then the trickle of automatic vegetable cleaners who decided to exploit the crack. Finally, the battle on Mansfield Park between the cleaners and a group of tourists.

"The lady that planted this tree was actually a member of the Lost Princess rebel army; she convinced a bunch of tourists to fight with her," Revati remarked, shaking her head. Then she firmly opened the book of fairy tales.

"It looks like some people survived," Bridgadeiro replied.

"I don't want to talk about it; I just want to read! Here, you can read with me; you might like this story," Revati replied.

Once long ago, in a lost village near the foot of Mount Raya, there lived a special little girl. She was known for her kindness and her deep love for nature. Everyone in the village called her Naisha. Naisha had a special gift; she could talk to plants. The villagers often saw her whispering to the flowers; they adored her magical gift.

One day, Naisha learned about a legendary tree called the Kalpavriksha. The old ladies in the village whispered that it had the ability to grant any wish. Drought, fearsome and terrible, had swept through the land. Flowers withered, no longer able to whisper. Trees forgot their songs. Naisha decided she must seek out the tree and wish for one thing alone: rain.

"Wake up," a voice screeched, and Revati's eyes snapped open, the book of fairy tales tumbling onto the ground. Aurora was standing above her, the bright morning sunlight making her hair glow.

"Morning," Revati yawned and then jumped when she realized Bridgadeiro was asleep next to her.

Bridgadeiro slowly awoke, smacking his lips together.

"Juniper said you were in here; she never mentioned the boy," Aurora remarked coldly as Revati slowly stood up.

"Anna made him sleep in here; I must have passed out while reading," Revati said.

It was then that Revati realized Aurora was holding a tray filled with fresh strawberries.

"Hmph," Aurora said, shooting Bridgadeiro a suspicious look as he also stood up, patting the tree trunk.

"Let me guess, Queen Victoria sent these with an apology?" Revati asked.

"Yes, and a request to fill her vodka order," Aurora said, placing the tray on the ground.

"If she was really sorry, she'd give us a strawberry plant," Revati pointed out.

"Oh, you don't need one of those! You have the fruit," Bridgadeiro remarked.

"You can't just shove a strawberry in the ground and hope for the best; it rots," Revati replied. Bridgadeiro merely leaned down, examining the strawberries. After a few moments of careful examination, he picked up the biggest, brightest berry.

"You can; you just need the right formula," he said. He vaguely walked towards one of the empty garden beds that was going to be turned into an onion patch. Carefully, he dug a small hole and placed the strawberry inside before covering it in earth. Then, he reached into his massive jumpsuit pocket and this time pulled out a small vial of portable perfume.

"One pump should do it," Bridgadeiro remarked before pumping a cloud of perfume onto the soil. The earth began to twitch and vibrate, and Revati gasped as greenery sprouted from the soil. The plants quivered and then twisted as white flowers bloomed. The petals then shriveled and fell off as the center of the flowers grew into green berries. A few seconds later, the berries blossomed into a deep red.

"They shouldn't be doing that! Strawberries take two weeks to grow," Aurora gasped.

"I suppose they would in the wild, but I just gave them a pump of my Gene Grow fusion serum!" Bridgadeiro said, leaning down to examine the strawberries.

"They should produce fruit every day, but only if you talk to them nicely," Bridgadeiro added as he picked a strawberry and handed it to Revati.

Revati sniffed it suspiciously before taking a tiny bite. It tasted just like a strawberry.

"Does that stuff work on all plants?" Revati asked curiously.

"It tends to go a bit haywire when you spray it on legumes; you end up with giant beans that have no nutrients," Bridgadeiro said.

"I saved your life; think it's only fair you spray all the plants in here," Revati said firmly.

"It would be better if I planted their seeds outside and created new crops; otherwise, the rapidly growing plants could burst outside the walls," Bridgadeiro replied. Revati nodded crisply.

"I'll be sending someone to check on your efforts later today; I'll be far too busy working," Revati replied with as much dignity as she could muster in a sleep shirt before marching out of the greenhouse. The book of fairy tales lay abandoned on the ground.

Revati carefully changed into her work uniform. When she was a child, her wardrobe consisted of souvenir t-shirts from the gift shop fashioned into dresses. Now that she was almost an adult, Revati had to get creative.

Most of the gift shop sweatshirts had been swiped long ago. Instead, Revati put on the top half of the cafe's old uniform. It consisted of a magenta and purple striped waistcoat with a navy blue blouse covered in tiny clocks. The bottom half should have been a matching bustle skirt. Revati switched it with the men's purple trousers. Revati then carefully redid her braid and applied some more soot lipstick. Aurora, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, was waiting for her in the kitchen.

"You're wearing your second best outfit," Aurora remarked.

"I suppose I am," Revati replied as she grabbed her coat.

"I thought you said you were done with romance after that whole mess with Little Hardi last summer," Aurora said, and Revati stopped walking.

"I am!" she protested, and Aurora pressed her thin lips into a disapproving frown.

"You were sleeping with him."

"God forbid I fall asleep next to another human being," Revati said as she marched through the cafe past Nanni, who was sewing something.

"You kept him! You gave him a job," Aurora added knowingly.

"I didn't keep him! He's not a feral child; he can leave whenever he wants," Revati snapped as they stepped outside, and she put on her sunglasses. Olde Landon was always at its worst in the morning. Like all major tourist attractions and cities, Old Landon had an atmospheric blanket high above the park's surface. It meant that nobody in the park froze to death at night, but it also meant the morning light was far too bright.

"Is that Little Hardi and Queen Victoria standing next to the fountain?" Revati sighed wearily.

"They both arrived at sunrise; I told them you were busy, so your mother made them breakfast," Aurora remarked.

"Sunrise; of course, they sacrificed sleep so they could get here first," Revati remarked, marching towards the two other leaders. Queen Victoria was wearing one of the park's costumes, a stained white lace wedding dress. Little Hardi, on the other hand, was wearing a deep blue doublet with a ruff collar and matching tights.

"Little Hardi, is your brother still unconscious?" Revati greeted him.

"We took a vote last night, and he played Macduff," Little Hardi replied.

Revati, who knew fully well what that meant, had to stop herself from flinching.

"You killed him? That's a little harsh," Revati pointed out.

"It was for the best; we need a strong leader during a time of invasion," Little Hardi remarked practically.

"Time of invasion? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Revati had to ask.

"There must be another crack in the wall; thank Jane, it's probably not too big! You two would be far too young to remember the vegetable cleaner invasion," remarked Queen Victoria.

"I was twelve," Revati said dryly.

"I was fourteen; the tornado destroyed the Hamlet's haunted castle ride, and the appliances killed the actor playing Ophelia," Little Hardi pointed out.

"You're both still tiny children as far as I'm concerned; I can't believe this is who I have to work with," Queen Victoria replied, and Revati brushed past her with annoyance, heading to the dress shop across the street.

The shelves of the dress shop had long ago been stripped bare. All that remained were the three Penny Farthing Bicycles that had been part of the shop's window display. Revati wheeled her Penny Farthing outside only to see Queen Victoria having a heated discussion with Aurora.

"What do you mean she's going to ride to the wall by herself? All representatives from all towns should go!" Queen Victoria was screeching, slapping Aurora's shoulder with her fan.

Revati parked her bicycle and marched towards Queen Victoria, grabbing her hand.

"Slap my assistant again, and I'll break your fingers; you know I can do it," Revati growled.

Little Hardi, who was now sitting by the fountain, laughed.

"I was just speaking the truth! We have a treaty; during times of crisis, we unify," Queen Victoria said, her voice tight and a little frightened.

"I don't see Lady Morganna here," Revati pointed out, referring to the ruler of Medieval faire.

"You know perfectly well Medieval faire cut us all off after the tornado hit! They probably all died off years ago," Queen Victoria snapped back. Queen Victoria was right. Medieval faire was located in the center of a massive fake castle complete with a drawbridge. After the invasion, Lady Morganna had yanked up the bridge and refused to speak to anyone. Anna and Nanni had tried to visit several times with baskets of dried lemons. They were horrified when someone from above threw the contents of their toilets onto the streets.

"My new friend said he saw naked people in the wilderness dancing around a murdered television! Sounds like Lady Morganna to me," Revati merely replied, pointing to Bridgadeiro. Bridgadeiro, who was in the middle of taking several pumpkins out of the greenhouse, waved.

"Could be a coincidence; regardless, you are not going to the wall! We need to have a proper group committee meeting first! Then a vote," Queen Victoria's.

Revati just rolled her eyes and released Queen Victoria's hand, causing her to stumble and fall onto the floor. Revati then reached into her jacket, pulling out her stun gun, shoving it into the queen's stomach. The Queen made a faint whimpering sound as her eyes rolled backward, and she collapsed again. Revati then aimed the gun at Little Hardi, who held his hands up, protesting.

"I'm not going to stop you! I came here to propose marriage," Little Hardi insisted.

"Marriage? To me?" Revati asked dubiously.

"All kings need a consort, and I'm not interested in Big Hardi's husband," Little Hardi said, slowly getting down on one knee.

Revati stared at him and shook her head.

"I'm seventeen," Revati pointed out.

"Well, the wedding wouldn't be for another couple of years," Little Hardi replied.

"I thought we agreed to keep our relationship professional after the handkerchief incident," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi held a hand to his heart.

"I told you dozens of times I had nothing to do with my brother's plot," Little Hardi insisted.

"He accused me of cheating on you using an old prop handkerchief as evidence, and you believed him despite it being the exact same plot of the play Othello," Revati pointed out. The entire incident occurred over a year ago and ended with Revati kidnapped and tied up on the stage in a white fluffy nightgown.

"I'm a very insecure person," Little Hardi pleaded. Dating while trapped in a fun park during the apocalypse was difficult. Before the feral children came along, Revati was the youngest person on Baker Street. All the teenagers in Whistleton were raised to be incredibly prissy. Most of them refused to do anything more than dance or hold hands. Little Hardi had been a fun, age-appropriate choice. Little Hardi was happy to do far more than hold hands.

"No," Revati said firmly.

"No? Really?" he asked, sounding faintly surprised.

"First of all, your legal system involves killing criminals on stage in the middle of plays, which is horrifying," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi shrugged.

"Secondly, I'm not an idiot! You just want to marry me so you can take over our greenhouse," Revati pointed out, and Little Hardi gasped as if looking deeply insulted.

"That's not true! If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks," Little Hardi pleaded as Revati climbed onto the penny farthing.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #science fiction #speculative fiction #speculative worldbuilding #futurism #sci-fi #creative writing #scifi story #science fiction novel

[elancholia]

Aren't you tired of all that grimdark/noblebright shit?

Don't you want to live a little?

#about fiction #speculative fiction #typologies #ephemera tag

[yellosnacc]

New year, new creature reveal!

This animal is an Iťalaq, a large creature adapted for the hot and dry environment of the east. Just like some earth desert animals, it has energy storage in the form of its watery bloodstream and of a large fat pocket under its 'pelvis'.

They feed primarily on plant matter. Bushes and grasses are easy targets, while hard or spiky materials will get stomped on with their middle limbs to then scoop up the insides. For food high up, they pick on it using their front limbs and throw it to the ground or insert it directly into their mouth. They do not mind a meaty snack.

As a bonus unpleasant fact, Iťalaq have the contents of their 'ends' ready to protect them from predators (both liquid and bullets), and it gets very stinky if they eat meat before the processing.

You are unlikely to ever see one in nature - at least not the domesticated species that are used all over the eastern sloman cultures (those are better reported to the nearest settlement).

Their history with slomen is not as long as it is with pamuli that evolved side by side with slomen. However, they are considered the first domesticated "arm-jaw" animals and have served people for thousands of years as their main "vehicle". Where they are used, wheels and carts are uncommon, finding most use in cities.

One iťalaq can often carry over 200kg (330 pounds), but it's better to keep the weight lower and let a pamuli take the rest of the cargo.

In this illustration, the rider is a sloman matriarch, likely stopping to stare at a strange phenomenon.

It is often that a northeastern family has at least one iťalaq, and the oldest members are the primary riders (both because of the member's importance and less energy from old age). The matriarch is the oldest and most respected, so it's only expected she's most familiar with the animal.

the picture with no text

hope the text wall doesn't have too many mistakes man

#art #speculative biology #artists on tumblr #digital art #artwork #worldbuilding #speculative evolution #spec bio #fantasy #original species #speculative zoology #speculative fiction #xenobiology #slomen #sloman culture #domesticated animals #spec evo #alien animal #elve

[kittybricks]

Do You Love the Colour of the Sky? (Or: This Must be the Place)

(I apologize for the resolution in advance. Still troubleshooting.)

#spec fic #speculative fiction #heritage post #do you love the color of the sky #art #ocs #original story #short story #arg #original arg #Tumblr arg #prose #scifi #science fiction #meme #shitposts #shitposting #hellsite #poets on tumblr #poetry #god let this get notes I've had the idea for so long and I need someone to appreciate it

[whereserpentswalk]

Imagine you've grown up on a spacestation. It's a major port, several times larger then most terrestrial cities. You've gotten to meet people, from all around the known universe, cultures with diffrent gods, diffrent tongues, diffrent systems of government, even some that aren't even fully human anymore through genetic engineering and adaptation.

And for your entire life you've heard about planets. Most media, from the strangest fantasy stories, to the most mundane dramas, take place on planets and assume to viewer lived most of their life on a planet. And most of the you talk to are from planets too, even those that have made their home on the station still grew up on planets, or have family they visit on planets. But you don't really have any personal frame of reference for what a planet is even like. Once or twice you've been on a ship or visited a nearby station, but you've never actually been too a planet.

You don't think of things the way terrestrial people do. You don't think of things as being inside or outside, just in diffrent rooms. You don't think of places as being flat, but as having layers of floors. You don't even have a full idea of what being "outside" would be like.

And one day, long after you've become an adult, you actually visit a planet. Everyone you know kind of expects you to be in awe of the beauty of an open sky, to finally enjoy the feeling of fresh air. But to you, you feel nothing. It's chaotic and confusing, you don't know how to get anywhere, you can't navigate places this open. When you see an open field it scares you, like open space brought into a station's walls. Everything feels so big and crowded and so small and empty at the same time. You barely leave your hotel room the entire trip.

People are supposed to exist on the ground. But you adapted to something else. That's what humans do after all, adapt to things.

#my thougts #worldbuilding #my writing #writers #writeblr #my worldbuilding #writing #short fiction #speculative fiction #flash fiction #science fiction #fiction #my wriitng #my work #196 #short story #original story #story #stories #space fantasy #space #spaceship #space station #spacestation #future #scif #scifi #science fantasy

[elbarkla]

I'm obsessed with Flat Earth conspiracy maps so I made my own, I hope it catches on 😇

#worldbuilding #sci fi art #flat earth #cake #ttrpg maps #speculative fiction #elbarklaart

[styllwaters]

✦ Tracking ✦

Another background study, wanted to sit down and make a full piece since I had such a blast with the last one. Also just wanted to draw a polar knight <:)

Here's Ahnit, an Aikka pike-fort commander who finds Agent 351 when they crash-land on Ettera.

Reference image:

#vivere 44 #knights #ettera #oc #background study #my art #digital art #art #illustration #artists on tumblr #speculative biology #speculative evolution #ahnit #polar knight #speculative fiction

[juicyolpickle]

Loch Ness monster

#spec bio #speculative biology #speculative evolution #speculative fiction #artists on tumblr #speculative worldbuilding #cryptid #loch ness monster

[simon-roy]

A collection of panels devoted to the true hero of Refugium - BETTY THE GOAT.

One of the animals commonly brought to colony worlds by human settlers is the working or "super" goat - a sort of all-purpose farm beast, genetically modified for the purpose. The Super Goat's souped up digestive tract makes it capable of thriving off of sparse, varied, (and occasionally extraterrestrial) forage, and its large, robust build makes it well suited to draft labour (at the logging camps featured in "refugium", the goats serve as "line horses" - carrying cables out to felled trees, which are then dragged by said cables using "steam donkeys" - portable steam engines on skids.)

(In the page below, you can spot a "steam donkey" resting above the woodpile, there on the landing)

But these gigantic goats aren't just built for work - they are tremendously productive milk producers, and their rapid growth rate makes them excellent meat animals, as well. Without the Super Goat, life on the planet Altamira would be a lot less liveable. So give a moment to think about the humble yet intergalactic goats of the Euhumanist league. Spare a moment...

FOR BETTY!

Also, a little reminder, the campaign for the book Betty stars in, "REFUGIUM", goes live this coming tuesday - consider signing up here:

#simon roy #comics #griz grobus #habitat #scifi #kickstarter #sciencefiction #goats #super goat #speculative biology #speculative zoology #specbio #speculative fiction #speculative worldbuilding

[nknatteringly]

Gunhounds are a rather diverse paraphyletic clade of caniform biological constructs derived predominately from Canis familiaris. Given the highly derived biology of gunhounds, IE extensive modification of the head and upper digestive tract into a biological firearm with included tracking system, it is hard to believe such creatures could reproduce.

Which is absolutely correct, gunhounds are not a self perpetuating germline construct, but are the result of modifications to base species! Some older models can still be found, which require intravenous nutrient injection in conjunction with manual loading of ammunition. However, the modern gunhound usually has a decoupled esophagus capable of extending out from the body to eat normally. Heavy metals, ubiquitous in the environments of most of the known world, are bioaccumulated and formed into bullets in a series of gun glands within the torso of a gunhound, and then moved via peristaltic action to the hound's ammo gizzard. This projectile is then regurgitated upward into the loading sinus to be fired.

Gun hounds are very easy to train inexpensive to procure or make, and take orders well, though prone to scope irritation in dry environments by default- consequently adding a crystalline lense to their main eye is a standard part of the modern gunhound package, and recommended retrofitting for older breeds.

#gunhound #drawing #ink illustration #concept art #my art #speculative biology #speculative fiction #body horrow cw #Annotated Guide for Casual Enthusiasts

[hezzabeth]

"For the last time, that poem isn't romantic! It's insulting," Revati yelled over her shoulder as she began to pedal.

The layout of Olde Landon had been deliberately designed to keep tourists inside for as long as possible. There was only one way to access the front gates, and that involved defeating the Queen of Hearts' hedge maze. When the park was still open, tourists would be forced to spend at least an hour in the maze, stumbling upon tiny toy shops and food stands around every corner. The same thing occurred when they left, resulting in a very rich park and bankrupt guests. Now the maze was overgrown and easy enough to navigate.

Revati pedaled past the cart that once sold her heart-shaped sunglasses. Then she turned left, almost crashing into the wall of roses. The wall of roses stared back at her, their red blooms heavy and suspicious. Thanks to Bridgadeiro, she knew they were probably secretly insulting her.

The next turn consisted of an old stardust popcorn stand. Revati skidded to a stop and inspected the inside tray, where a few ancient kernels lay. Carefully, she picked up several of them and placed them in her jacket pocket. As far as she could tell, the kernels were seeds. Someone was shifting around the corner, causing the branches to shake.

"Aurora, is that you? Did you go ahead of me?" Revati yelled.

"While conferring in the labyrinth where false preachers reeked of death, the monster began to growl," a voice called from around the corner. An unfamiliar, flat female voice. Raiders. Raiders were, of course, an occupational hazard in any post-apocalyptic settlement. Normally, they never made it further than the broken glass pit at the park's gates. Sometimes Dityaa would bring one in, insisting they were "lovely," which always led to awkward dinners.

Revati slowly walked around the maze corner. There was a screeching metallic sound, and the weapon fell from Revati's hand. An android was slumped over on the ground. Once it would have been golden, but now it was rusty and covered in mud. Someone had ripped its legs off, leaving nothing but wires and tubes spitting bright blue fluid. Instead of a torso, there was a black empty hole with a concave door swinging on its bent hinges.

"And in the forgotten twists, footsteps quicken, hearts beat, and teeth are bared," the android chirped, its voice still distorted and far away. The android's face was a beautiful mask. Still-carved eyes. Unmoving sweet lips.

Revati powered up her solar gun and slowly walked forward, aiming it at the android. The android's metal eyes scraped in their sockets, turning towards her.

“Is that you? My darling Perdita?” The android’s voice whispered, the lips unmoving. The whispering voice had a posh lilt to its accent. Revati refused to answer. It was best to never engage with AI.

“Perdita, I clawed my way in! They know about you; the spider knows,” the android whispered before collapsing completely.

Revati slowly walked forward, still holding her weapon. With one foot, she kicked the android. It didn’t move. Its power had definitely died.

“Spider? Is that some sort of gang?” Revati whispered to herself. Gangs were always given stupid names.

“The spider is us; the spider is legion,” a flat robotic voice called out, and Revati spun around.

Queen Victoria was standing behind her, scorch marks all over her dress. A faint blue glow was erupting from beneath the skin of Queen Victoria’s chest.

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