A little more experimentation. But not much. Trying to set up a unique tone.... a bit short, but I'm only dipping in and out of this trying to shape it while work burns me out.
It's looking like a sort of Weird Max, or what gets spat off into space following the result of Worm, Evangelion, Stalker and Mad Max being pointed at each other and set on a high speed collision course. There was another snippet that showed a gunfight where someone's skeleton got a shattered by an artifact, before the shatter had is skull popped by a .357 Magnum - but it went missing.
--
The two way hissed, white noise stretching out into the black beyond the cab windows, two pools of pale yellow light leading the way across a broken road. A silent night in the mid-west. The halfway point to Portland had passed sometime earlier to no celebration.
Jacob forced himself to glance down at the ember glow of the dashboard. Engine. Fuel. Oil. Air. All looked normal. Nothing red. Nothing glowing. Nothing glaring for his attention. The engine thrummed away to itself.
The yawn escaped his mouth before he could swallow it.
Everyone else slept. Dozing. Snoring. Murmuring.
The navigator slumped over his whiz-wheel, nose dribbling.
Jacob opened his eyes just in time to see that tree that killed him.
--
Imagine you’re a squirrel living in a tree in the centre of meadow.
You about your business the way all squirrels. Feed. Flee. Fuck. The three main imperatives of your kind. With your day done, you nestle down in your burrow for a comfortable evening playing with your nuts.
You hear a noise. A drumming that comes from everywhere at once.
Your ears prick up. Where’s it coming from.
You start to run. The crash comes, throwing you against the wall. Your tree topples, throwing you against Leaves whirl through the air. Lights, sounds, smells that burn your eyes which you can’t comprehend.
Then silence.
You crawl out of your ruined burrow to find your tree toppled. Spots of fire lick at its branches. Strange shards of thin, shiny stone are scattered across your familiar field. A mass of it, larger than any tree and hotter than any stone you know sits, creaking in a breezeless night dribbling sticky fluids which make your skin itch.
You scamper around. Sniffing, investigating.
You find shards of warm ice, sharp to the touch. One is pooled inside bowl at the end of a long trunk of smooth stone. Hitting it just right against a rock gives a strange fireless light , bright and comforting. A pool of daytime you can bring with yourself to your burrow. The nighttime seems a little safer for a while – until the fire goes out and won’t come back again, no matter how hard you beat the stone against a rock.
You find animals wrapped in strange fur, dead, blood pooled around shards of warm ice. Your find fur wrapped inside dead skins. Soft. Warm. It lines your burrow. Later that night, you start to sneeze.
You find food. Sweet. Sweeter and better than anything you’ve ever known wrapped inside these light, crackling see-through leaves. More than you could ever imagine hoarding.
And you find this strange, warm, sweet water in pools on the ground. In a few moments, you feel good. Later, you feel weird, barely able to stand, the world spinning mad around you.
By the time the sun comes up, you’re dying in agony and you don’t know why…
Perhaps it was something you ate?
--
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
It's looking like a sort of Weird Max, or what gets spat off into space following the result of Worm, Evangelion, Stalker and Mad Max being pointed at each other and set on a high speed collision course. There was another snippet that showed a gunfight where someone's skeleton got a shattered by an artifact, before the shatter had is skull popped by a .357 Magnum - but it went missing.
--
The two way hissed, white noise stretching out into the black beyond the cab windows, two pools of pale yellow light leading the way across a broken road. A silent night in the mid-west. The halfway point to Portland had passed sometime earlier to no celebration.
Jacob forced himself to glance down at the ember glow of the dashboard. Engine. Fuel. Oil. Air. All looked normal. Nothing red. Nothing glowing. Nothing glaring for his attention. The engine thrummed away to itself.
The yawn escaped his mouth before he could swallow it.
Everyone else slept. Dozing. Snoring. Murmuring.
The navigator slumped over his whiz-wheel, nose dribbling.
Jacob opened his eyes just in time to see that tree that killed him.
--
Imagine you’re a squirrel living in a tree in the centre of meadow.
You about your business the way all squirrels. Feed. Flee. Fuck. The three main imperatives of your kind. With your day done, you nestle down in your burrow for a comfortable evening playing with your nuts.
You hear a noise. A drumming that comes from everywhere at once.
Your ears prick up. Where’s it coming from.
You start to run. The crash comes, throwing you against the wall. Your tree topples, throwing you against Leaves whirl through the air. Lights, sounds, smells that burn your eyes which you can’t comprehend.
Then silence.
You crawl out of your ruined burrow to find your tree toppled. Spots of fire lick at its branches. Strange shards of thin, shiny stone are scattered across your familiar field. A mass of it, larger than any tree and hotter than any stone you know sits, creaking in a breezeless night dribbling sticky fluids which make your skin itch.
You scamper around. Sniffing, investigating.
You find shards of warm ice, sharp to the touch. One is pooled inside bowl at the end of a long trunk of smooth stone. Hitting it just right against a rock gives a strange fireless light , bright and comforting. A pool of daytime you can bring with yourself to your burrow. The nighttime seems a little safer for a while – until the fire goes out and won’t come back again, no matter how hard you beat the stone against a rock.
You find animals wrapped in strange fur, dead, blood pooled around shards of warm ice. Your find fur wrapped inside dead skins. Soft. Warm. It lines your burrow. Later that night, you start to sneeze.
You find food. Sweet. Sweeter and better than anything you’ve ever known wrapped inside these light, crackling see-through leaves. More than you could ever imagine hoarding.
And you find this strange, warm, sweet water in pools on the ground. In a few moments, you feel good. Later, you feel weird, barely able to stand, the world spinning mad around you.
By the time the sun comes up, you’re dying in agony and you don’t know why…
Perhaps it was something you ate?
--
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?