Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

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Project Vulture, episode 1 – Vultures, Act 1

[Content warnings: strong language, cavalier attitude toward violence.]

SCENE I: MAMA KOLSHOV GETS BURIED; LAB GETS SET UP

A young man takes off his stylish, black hat and folds it into an envelope and puts it in a pocket on the inside of his coat. The only colourful items this man is wearing are a pink badge (the breast cancer awareness thing) and a red rose (socialism). This is EMIL KOLSHOV. He steps into the church. Behind him people are filling in like syrup back into the carafe, reluctantly. Many of them touch KOLSHOV’s elbow or shoulder and mutter condolences. One who does not do this is JUNE, a tall man with sunk-in cheeks, sunglasses, and pale skin.

Pastor GORCZI starts speaking without a microphone. People fall silent.

GORCZI

– Everybody in this room knew Tarja Kolshov. To many of us, she was known as Mama Kolshov. She had the strength of character of the Kolshovs.

JUNE looks at his clock. The insides of JUNE’s coat are sort of shining with the blue that people know as ultraviolet.

GORCZI (louder)

– She is the reason I am alive today. The reason many of us haven’t moved away from this otherwise godforsaken piece of land. She gave the workers rights, the people hope, the politicians something to fear and now she’s gone.

KOLSHOV’s eyes are closed. So are Mama Kolshov’s.

GORCZI

– For those of you who want to have one last look at this brave woman, I urge you to slowly pay your respects while the coffin is open. Go on, whilst I speak.

Elsewhere, to the voiceover of GORCZI praising Mama Kolshov, a lab is scrambled into assistance:

TOESCH, carrying a backpack full of stuff, disemelevators into a pristine area known as the lab. She wobbles through the corridor of airtight glass cells and puts down the backpack. Starts taking equipment out of it – a microscope, a mini-fridge, a tube of petri-dishes, something that looks like anEKG-meter, and a fern.

GORCZI

– She was a gale, a force of nature. Wherever she is now, the people in charge of that place are about to face some serious opposition.

Shot of GORCZI again, standing a tiny bit above the milling people. The camera then pans around the church to KOLSHOV.

GORCZI (smiling)

– And she will have her way and make it better for the people there. Never before have I met someone like Mama Kolshov, and never again shall I. I am not joking when I say we would all go to war for this woman.

JUNE moves closer to KOLSHOV without looking at KOLSHOV. JUNE scrunges up his coat a bit to not glow as much.

GORCZI

– She made us aware of the vultures dying. She nursed some of the poor birds back to health.

The lab’s cells are filling up with specimen: flayed pigs, a monkey without a brain, a metre-thick layer of earth crawling with bugs, and one empty cell. TOESCH is talking withMISCHA about things. MISCHA walks away.

GORCZI

– It was already too late when they found the cancer. She took no medication, did nothing to stop it. One day, she just fell.

There is silence for exactly 60 seconds in the church and also elsewhere. A lab asssistant (not wearing the cool kind of lab coat TOESCH and MISCHA are wearing) is rolling a stretcher with a black bodybag into the empty cell. No sound effects on this. He then walks out of there while MISCHA, looking fascinated, zips the bag open and emancipates the corpse of a young man with a few tattoos on his face and some scars on his forehead from where the electric chair got him.

TOESCH cuts him up deftly and pours in some worm-filled dirt into his stomach, and sews the thing shut again.

GORCZI (sound returning; people crying)

– She would have liked us all to be drunk right now. I hope I will see you all at the tavern.

Read the rest of this entry »

Something Goes Wrong in Space (Idea), part I

So, here is a thought-process detailing a space horror movie. Developed by me and Drakekin.

Let’s start at a moment in time defined as T101. There are 200 Ts in the movie, and the movie starts in the middle. It then goes forwards and backwards, with scene 1 being T101-T109, scene 2 being T91-T100.  Etc. I liked it when Ian M. Banks used this narrative technique in Use of Weapons and we shall copy it.

This post is mainly for sci-fi fans. There is lots of assuming that you, the reader, are familiar with hard sci-fi here.

Elevator Pitch

Something goes wrong in space.

The Spaceship Details

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New Drabble

http://kewangji.tumblr.com/post/28780656719/a-year-older-a-year-older-in-a-haunted-house

A year older; a year older in a haunted house.

Funny that Suki or Atame hadn’t noticed that only strangers turned up to their wedding.

The cancer was growing in her brain like her skull would split open. The doctors had never seen anything so rapid. They were fascinated, until they remembered themselves in front of him.

And he’d done something bad, and he’d been punished.

And there were the final vows.

And the same day on each year until he dies, he goes to that haunted house, a year older, and he watches the ceremony but he can’t touch.

The Anywhere Machine, Appendix II – Telepath Unexplained, pt 2

Hello!

https://plus.google.com/110256765728890615914/posts/QYN4aPE8J4M

There is now a followup post to the first instalment of this series! The adventure of this civilisation continues. You should check it out!

(The first one’s here, https://plus.google.com/u/0/110256765728890615914/posts/6ExFyos3Ve6)

New Vignette! “Unreachable”

Hopefully this story makes sense. This is a story about a lover from long ago interacting with you, however briefly, and how you used to be.

https://zombiesintelligently.com/vignettes/unreachable/

Worldbuilding 2: the Points of Departure

Last post in this series:
https://zombiesintelligently.com/2012/06/30/worldbuilding-1-a-radiating-background/

(I think people who write fan fiction use this term when referring to the relationship between their worlds and the canon, so, apologies to fanficpeople for appropriating your very useful phrase.)

You need points of departure in any world you build. If you’re making a TV-series about a copper in a well-known English town, you need to first establish that space is weird so that people don’t get confused when the copper runs into an alley in the south end of town, and out of an alley in the north end.

Seriously though, if you don’t point the strangeness of your world out, readers will (rightfully) assume that the world you write in is the same world as they live in. The underlying rules are still there. This happens on Earth … Rome is still in Italy … physics still work … entities that have selves still feel entitlement – the prejudices run deep! This is as it is, because you can’t rasa a tabula, not really. It’ll still be it-shaped.

The best introductions are often the ones that only show the main point of departure from the world in which the reader exists. I like to achieve this by, er, talking to the reader as if they are of a third, unseen world. For example, the time I explained Stephen King to people who would surely know about Stephen King. That was fun.

When you’re writing high fantasy, you can often get the point of departure by just having a map in the beginning of the book. Lots of points-of-departure are in the paratext (defined by TvTropes as ‘[e]verything that is an element of the whole package immediately encompassing the text and not part of the text itself’). But it’s good to have it in the text too, otherwise things get confusing when you send the thing off to someone to read simply the manuscript, before you’ve got the book deal and stuff. (Almost entirely unpublished, am I, so I’m not speaking from experience but assumption.)

There are of course lots and lots of points of departure in your work of any fiction. But you’ll probably have a main one. The one that causes all the consequences.

~

So! I need points of departure too, for this world! Obviously the poisonbeasts are a difference. But why is the world suddenly killing humans? (And other animals?) Did they do something wrong?

I think they set fire to the atmosphere.

(When asked what could go wrong during the first nuclear test, the American scientists responded that there was a tiny risk they’d set fire to Earth’s atmosphere. But at least that’s better than the Russians doing it.)

And as the fire burnt and left behind it some form of really terrible nuclear poison, the poisonbeasts appeared.

This has the consequences of: killing 40% of the human race (look, the poisonbeasts are good at what they do). Hitler is dead, along with most of the world leaders, because of reasons.

I think they set fire to the atmosphere, and then something else happened, but we’re not entirely sure what.

Toothed Beaks and Mountains

The five million of us sat in the same place at the same time, awaiting the meteor strike. We thought we could last through it. There was not much grass around us, just sand and time, which aren’t entirely different, but we didn’t let it dirty our hands.

We amateur astronomied, I stabbed two sharp telescopes into the backs of our heads. There was hindsight to be had, and there we saw the meteor strike.

This is where we point out that that was a million years ago and sand and grass have taken the place of the bones and neverending ashes that ended. The fire had shadowed itself, masked to something more devious.

The four million and nine hundred ninety nine thousand nine hundred ninety nine of us waited for the meteor strike. One of us took up studying the way the comet’s surface crackellated from the heat. “Perhaps,” you (I) said, “we can learn from this.”

There was another one who wasn’t us who tried to drag us away, but provided corners when the meteor struck, this other one I don’t know where they are now.

We didn’t learn from your crackellology. Out of the four million and three thousand five hundred sixty eight that are left one grabs a shovel. One – still the same – fills himself with water and walks wobbly to the hole he just dug, to where the meteor landed a million and nine hundred and ninety six thousand four hundred thirty one years ago (back when we wasn’t sick, or so many).

He lets the water fill up the hole and waits for the meteor to strike. He (I) waves at it with flags that mean come, come, I sigh and watch another one of me wiped out. Unless you’re counting like I am you could not have known how many me have gone up from the spot where I’m sitting.

“Why do you need to stop the meteor?” I ask myself.

“Look, it’s a bit less now? Do you see? There is a town” (two million and five hundred thousand eight hundred fifty two years ago) “that now has one house standing.”

“That is a new house, not an old house,” says a version of myself which has a number that is five million, minus the number of years since the meteor strike, plus one. I think that’s it.

~

Timestorm, I get dust in my eyes.

~

A pebble lands by my feet.

The Anywhere Machine, Appendix II – Telepath Unexplained, pt 1

Hi!

https://plus.google.com/u/0/110256765728890615914/posts/6ExFyos3Ve6

That is a link right there. You should click it and read the thing and possibly comment, depending on how much Google-pluslike you are.

The story is set in the same universe as the story of the Cekno*, and so far this universe is big and mysterious but as I keep writing in this world I suppose you will get to see the common thread soon enough!

Anyway, go comment on that thing and be excited for me, alright? Awesome.

https://zombiesintelligently.com/vignettes/the-anywhere-machine-appendix-i-futureful-skyful/

Worldbuilding 1: A Radiating Background

Last post in this series: https://zombiesintelligently.com/2012/06/12/ worldbuilding-0-intro/

This is a world about monsters. I’ve decided to have this be a fresh new world, not linked even a little to any of the old worlds. This means no baanklide, even though I love the baanklide and it is the best monster ever. (The baanklide even has a fangirl.) Please bear with me in this post, as I don’t really do segues, but everything in this post relates to all the other things, I promise.

Today I was reading from The Rediscovery of Man (Cordwainer Smith) and it was amazing and I noticed a trend: the stories in this collection seemed to all be about space-travellers who travèlle space and fall in love. This got me thinking to how I would write such a story and then, springing forth like a jack-in-the-box came the idea of something I will call the Great Onebyone. I like to name things.

Recently I had half on an idea called the Ritual of Ophoboshekin. This idea, while alright, doomed itself to fail, in my opinion. The basic idea went: sometime, somewhere, someone is going through a ritual that symbolizes a hangover, because their utopia knows the meaning of fun and pain. I only got a couple of paragraphs in before hitting a halting point.

For The Ritual, which I did not assign a world, got a couple of paragraphs. For The Great Onebyone, set in the Anyverse, I’ve got almost two handwritten pages after about 2 hours of working on it. Maaaajor contrast, right. This is how I arrive at the conclusion that for stories to work for me, they need a world or it’s a lot more work. And that’s why I’m not going to try to figure out a story here when I write these posts, the best of those will only happen in a whoaflash, because that’s how my head works. I will describe the stories afterwards!

With that in mind: Monsters. Humans? Civilisations? Uncivilisations? I’ve been using the word ‘poison’ lately to describe a lot of things, most things of these not actually being poison. So, how about: humans are dying, there is poison everywhere. The poisonbeasts have graciously stepped in to gasmask humans, but everything has a price. They are taking over the biznaz. Like some sort of otherworldly mafia.

Yep. Join me next time (sometime next week) for figuring out how this world relates to our world, where the point-of-departure is and so. Also for maybe understanding what a poisonbeast is, and how they can gasmask humans.

The Day of a Whole Lot of Drabbles!

Helloes! I’m Johannes Punkt, and you may know me from reading my blog just now. I’m not very famous.

Anyway, my long-running drabble-blog will suffer cysts and disease tomorrow, and the exploding pus will shower you all in short stories. A ton of them will go up on the same day and it will be exciting and you should pay attention to this tumblr tomorrow!

It’s been a year since I started the blog, and I’ve published at least one story of exactly 100 words there, every day. I’m pretty boss. From now on, the stories posted there will be rarer. I hope you enjoy the drabblpocalypse drabblvaganza drabblopodës day of a whole lot of drabbles.

http://kewangji.tumblr.com/