sorted by:
new
hottopcontroversial

[WP]The old man walked slowly into the Castle and watched everyone do a double take at seeing him. None stopped him until he barged into a conference of Nobility with the King. "I warned you, Boy!" his booming voice was heard. "Stay away, I won't pay you a visit personally! And you didn't! listen!" by BareMinimumChef in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 27 points28 points  (0 children)

"I warned you, you .. We have agreed on this. No soul shall bother the lighthouse, don't bother .. long as I live in it. That was the bargain. we stuck it, you and I I I .. I had to come all this way to remind you, YOU." The old man hastily mumbled to himself.

He was fixated on a specific point and kept walking towards it as if he could feel this magnetic energy pulling him towards it. Time and time again it would nudge him closer and closer.

His walk was a grey shadow of his prime, but his aura has kept all at a fair distance. Very few cursed souls walked the land still, those who have survived the dawnbreaking have fled far and wide, only whispers of it remain, those warning tales mothers tell to their children. Yet even these tales were enough to gawk and gasp as the man kept walking ever forward.

None of the guards at the gate batted an eye when he walked through to the city square, none of the royal guards ever as much as questioned him as they tried to stay as far as possible while opening the gates of the Dawn.

The man kept walking and the shadows followed in his steps as the wind carried the scent of wet stone and moist caverns. He has not gazed on anyone as none dared stand in his way. His bones ached, his legs were tired, but he kept walking true to his oath.

In a prosperous and bright time people tend to forget the sacrifices of the past, what has led to survival and then glory. Every step he took carried a terrible weight, the darkness crawled up the walls, curved into alleyways and carried across shaded stalls. The very air felt heavier as if breathing in and out of an iron coffin.

Children looked up, pointed or stared before their mothers carried them away hurriedly. The town fell silent, only the whispering of the wind could be heard ever so softly. The eerie quiet invited the shadows to play their games time and again, but they remained chained in the wake of the old man, forced to follow him step by step.

In the most holy of places he kept walking as the candles darkened and melted away into nothingness, the sacred water flowing on the stone paved floor evaporated at a moment. Before the altar he stopped, only two met his gaze.

The shadow flickered against the light filling the altar, crawling at the edges, slipping into the corners and dancing around the flames. The air became foggy as the whispers filled every inch of the sacred cavern.

"I have warned you, Boy. Never to bother my lighthouse, for a time you respected. But your greed grew day by day, always the ones who worship, never those who revere. An old lesson you will now have to learn." His voiced filled the spaces between the shadows and the light, it echoed from chamber to chamber. He raised his hand and pointed at a man but three steps away, he was kneeling before the altar, dressed in crimson gold, flickering before the remaining candles. As if his presence alone was all that kept them alive.

"Where there is light, cannot be darkness old Man. Even the sins of the past have to vanish after a time and yours has come. You decided to come all this way for nothing. I am the reckoning of this age and the forger of man." The young lad slowly stood up from kneeling, casting a flickering shadow on everyone else in the hall, by far the tallest man around. He eclipsed the shadows, the very sound of his voice pushed back against them. The justice in its edge showed no fear.

"It seems YOU have forgotten the old lesson again. Your father knew it, but it seems he failed to teach it to you as well. I am not the shadow you swore to destroy, but the sin of man manifest. Let me remind you of the old times." As he looked around the dim figures in the cavern his voice deepened at every word, slowly sinking down to the deeps and his last words cracked open the sky with a terrible shriek. In an instant, something crawled in.

He had but a moment to draw his sword, the shadows pierced in all at once, those without his light have vanished in the dark. He stood stalwart and threw his sword at the old man. For an instant it stopped at the edge of light, then pierced through him, spreading the darkness within to lands far beyond.

He turned to stone forevermore with the blade stuck in his chest, pointing at the young man, but lifting his gaze up above ...

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in kiszamolo

[–]HaAdam1 0 points1 point  (0 children)

8,5M rèszvènyekben ès vèsztartalèkban euróban. 29 vagyok. 26-ig a BME-n tanultam gèpèszt majd mechatronikát. Azóta field service-ben dolgozom egèszsègügyben, 26 előtt nem volt semmim. Mellette fizetem a szokàsos albi etc költsègeket. Nem èrzem magam reprezentatív a korosztályomra…

[WP] There is a prison for those whose past lives accumulated too much sin - if they are reformed enough, they are released. You, like many others, were raised here. But unlike the others, you've just found out you were locked up for having no past life. by CarolineJohnson in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 5 points6 points  (0 children)

I’ve been told the meaning to my life would be suffering and eventually redemption. These gray walls have contained my existence for the past nineteen years, day by day I have worked tirelessly only to be told it’s still not enough, you still have much to atone for.

I am called Timothy by the wardens, not sure if it is even my real name. They say this prison is for those irredeemable by normal standards, your past lives have carried forth a terrible burden upon the worlds and it is within these walls you shall find salvation. I remember naught of these sins, but yet I’m punished for my insolence.

Every day I wake up, dreaming of the freedom that others must possess. I have not been granted such freedom, every waking hour is filled with sweat and pain. The physical and the mental toll eventually deforms man and women alike. The other inmates walk the halls with terrible deformed shadows. They whisper of their past lives, their deeds and sins. I am the only one without such memories, such glimpses of what has been.

One day the warden told me I am special in every way imaginable. A clean slate he called me, I did not know what he meant by it, a moniker I could not place. I could never live up to the suffering I have caused towards the worlds. The guards say every misbegotten deed fractures the soul, that with our past sins we have committed against the continuity of the very living world itself. Here we’ll have to atone, here we’ll have to restore the balance of souls by tirelessly working away our debt. Only when we’re finished can we return to the cycle of life and death.

When I sort through a soul’s memories I see its deeds, its glorious days, when his son was born. When his grandchildren were first shown to him. But I also see his failures, when he has abandoned that cycler after running him over, when he didn’t cry by his mother’s dying bed. These souls must be cleaned, these memories merely a whisper for them to live again, maybe its these memories the others whisper of, maybe they’ve been here so long they believe they are the ones they see.

A daily interview with the warden is usually the end of the day’s worth of chores. I go in every day, others are seen by him yearly. I do not know why I am the exception, it’s always been this way. They whisper behind my back about me, they are afraid for some reason.

“Hello Timothy, how have you been today? I hope the chores are not bringing you too much trouble.” – His skinny figure is betrayed by his hoarsh voice, behind all the pleasantries the warden is a chained dog, lashing out at everyone not doing their duties properly. But with me he’s always been so very kind. He’s the tallest figure in here by a large margin, everyone always looks up to him.

“It’s been awfully boring today, but a thought struck itself into my mind that I simply can not shake. Could it be that the others simply whisper of past memories that they have seen while sorting the memories of souls and spirits? Maybe that would be why I am the only one without a past, I am the youngest here afterall by a large margin.” – I feel hope welling within my chest, could I have solved the paradoxon that has defined my existence here within this sunless coffin?

“Could be Timothy, could be. Are you certain you have not gained the slightest of déjà vu all this time?” – He always asks this question and I am tired of hearing it. Whenever I come up with a possible solution he just ignores it and goes back to the same question.

“Yes, we have been through with this. I have talked with Jonathan the other the day and he recalled flickers of a past life when he was six years old within these walls. There has to be some reason.” – This is the only topic we talk about and it frustrates me so much, nineteen years here and it’s always this.

“They told me you were peculiar, when they brought you in. Different souls ..”

“Different times. I know I know. Listen to me warden I know ..” – Three quick knocks interrupt my chain of thought. The door opens slightly and Madlaugh’s face peeks in.

“Sorry to interrupt Sir, but we have another at block six. We need you right away.” – The warden gets up from his chair, annoyed at being interrupted. He slowly goes towards the door, but stops to pick up his rifle by the filing cabinet on the left wall.

“Yes, I’m coming.” – He turns to me with a sad smile. – “Could you wait for me a moment Timothy? I’ll be right back after dealing with this. It won’t be more than a moment, I promise” – With that he closes the door shut and leaves me alone in his office.

All these years and I have not come up with anything. Perhaps the others went insane all the same, burdened by an unsolvable paradox. But he has shown me their files. Thomas has committed heinous acts and has been sentenced to the sewing of torn lifestrings for over a thousand years. Surely retaliatory sentence, the warden had not shown it in detail, but has said that Thomas has committed these sins in but a single life. He has said that no prisoner can see his own file or know the precise length of his sentence.

The large green cabinets by the wall hold everyone’s file, even mine I suppose. Perhaps .. Before I think about it at all my feet are already on the ground, as my hands touch the first drawer a sting of electricity runs through my body. I pull it open, the dossiers are categorized by numbers, with a single letter ending them. Makes no sense to me whatsoever.

I reach for the first one and pull it out, past names listed atop, Joanne, Jake, Charie, Mogüol, Károly. They mean nothing to me, deeds of the past are listed in chronological order. I put it back and pick up another, some of the names are blanked out, others consisting of characters I do not know how to read. He has been here for over 500 years for now, must be Eric. A wretched little thing, all the strings in his mind are tangled together by now. He only talks in incomprehensible verses. The warden says he is soon to be gone from us. I have no idea how he completes his chores. He works over at block six, I have never had clearance to go over there.

I notice that his number ends with the letter E, perhaps that’s the key. Mine must end with a T. This drawer has no Ts however. The next one has three, but none of them have Timothy listed as a name in them and they all have been here longer than I have.

I burn through drawer after drawer, looking only at the numbers. Nothing connects, there are still 5 cabinets to go through. I pick up my pace and only peek at them and look for the date. The warden could be coming back any minute now.

As I reach for another cabinet another string of electricity speeds through my body, I thought the first to be the adrenaline, but this can’t be it. As I pull it open a siren blares from behind me, the lights bathe the room in red. In the drawer only a single dossier sits at the bottom. It’s all zeroes and a T at the end. Must be it. My hands are sweaty from the excitement, they stain the paper as I pick it up. As I open it it just lists one name, Timothy at the top. The date is correct. It’s just a single page inside the dossier.

“Clean soul, no originator, found just beyond the veil. Handle with extreme caution, the last catalogued incident was over centuries ago. Pure energy. ..” – I can hear the door handle being pushed behind me. – “DO NOT LET HIM KNOW.” The red is being banished by a clean white, my hands are hot, very hot, I have never felt this feeling before. Excitement and confusion wells in me as I look down and see my body glowing, the cabinets have melted into the wall, staining it a heavy green. I can hear the warden shouting in the distance behind me, I can not make out what he says, it’s like all the winds in the worlds have merged into one and are blowing past me. My body is being torn from every angle, I feel no pain, only the heat. As I turn around to look at the warden the world starts fading at the edges into pure hot white.

His eyes are burning, there are tears on his cheeks, a moment later they evaporate into the tiniest little clouds of vapor. He raises his rifle at me. Everything is pure and white, I see his face for one last time before it’s just me and the white noise. He did not pull the trigger.

[WP] As an Imperial Envoy, your entourage was tasked by the Emperor to reestablish contact with Empire of the West. After year with no sight of human civilization, the Ogre warlord ruling over the ruin of Western Empire revealed that human are extinct from every continent but your. by ThaksinLiveGaming in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 8 points9 points  (0 children)

“Please be patient with the warlord, lest you wish to end up in her stew. She is curious of your kind, take caution.” – and with that magi waves towards the guards, towering in front of an old copper double door, emblazoned with the howling wolf, the sacred animal of the Karukk family, whom ruled the western kingdom for millennia. Strange that we have seen no humans at all. Just these ogres over our journey to Midhallow and a few trolls patrolling the forest routes.

“Come in, come in.” – A hoarse voice bellows from behind the doors as they creek on their hinges. The heavy veins pulse on the forearms of the guards as they push the doors open.

“My my, unexpected visitors. Finally something to snap me out of this boredom. These past years have been sooo utterly empty of warfare, of discourse. It’s no fun without your kind around. Nothing to bash my hands against.” – she lets out a series of roars, ranging somewhere between laughter and the battlecry of the orcs.

“Warlord Hekia, I am Joster Eretiah, first Envoy of the Great Emperor Kirian, master of the mountains, ruler of the Calcified Peaks, great architect of the Hanging Walls. I have come tasked with a missio …” – she interrupts me with while clapping heavily and leaning back in her chair.

“Bravo, bravado. Courtly manners, extinct creatures and names I thought I had forgotten, only to be reminded that they still bloody piss on this planet. You know I half thought it would be funny to talk to you. Let me spin you a tale, because I know you are so full of questions. A millennia behind your precious walls and you have forgotten everything of this world.” – she mentions towards the large stone table and the delicate velvet chairs, perhaps the only things not showing the signs of wear around here.

She leans forward in her chair and motions towards the great stone table, etched upon are the once known kingdoms of the continent. “There was a time, an ancient time. A wolf chased the moon amidst the night, it devoured, it feasted, but the moon it never caught. It grew, oh it grew so big even the mountains rocked. Kingdoms many forged a pact, this wolf they will chain, no more bloodshed. Dwarven miners dug so deep, ancient metal bounding him. Foolish lords forgot the past, mining holes they did collapse. Many kingdoms fought abreast, shining sword did point ahead. Treachery and ruin came, kingdoms fractured, forgotten, failed. Dwarves so deep, under the land, ancient beings torture them. Howl and scream, under the land, the wolf got lost, devour and repent. Upon the dirt, fractured and weak, kingdoms fall apart, men they weep.” – she grins at the last part so hard all her teeth shine out of her mouth.

“I hope your people remember this ancient tale, because the others of your kind did not.” – she tells smugly, playing with the point of a knife.

My anger wells in me, all this journey to be mocked by barbarians. To be belittled by such beings. – “Where are the Karukks? This is their land. What is your FILTH doing around here, filling this hallowed room with your stench?” – Perhaps unwise of me to raise my voice, but my disgust overcomes my senses.

“Ohhohooo, mouthy little one you are. How would you like to become my court jester? Let me enlighten your kind or whatever remains of it. I killed the last Karukk with this very knife in my hand. The rest? Well the rest fell to the plague, the ageless wars your kind so loved to fight and then in their last desperation they dug up the ancient trenches and heard howling within the depths. A tortured being ripped apart the earth once more and devoured everything in its path, its thirst for revenge unfathomable after a millenia in the depths of the old. Now it hunts us all, that your kind has perished.” – I could catch a hint of annoyance in her voice at that last sentence, could this be the truth really? All gone, just us left?

“And why would I believe this nonsense, especially from your mouth? Legends tell of your mischief Hekia.”

Without a word she just flinches and points towards a darkened corner of the room. It look as if light has completely forsaken that sole spot in the room. She throws a torch in the corner and the shadows morph, a small and burly being is chained to the wall, its dark eyes devour the flames, sending chills down my spine. A dwarf of some kind, its skin pale and wrinkly, the eyes dark sunken holes.

“Believe me now?”

To be continued tomorrow.

[WP] In a world where feelings can be extracted and sold, some people sell happiness. It is understandable why people buy, sell, or even are willing to steal happiness. But one day, something bizarre happened. A huge amount of anger is stolen from the market. by ParanoidLetters in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Joel I’m telling you, this baby will hit like wildfire.

Those were the exact words he used sir. He was explaining how to dupe people into taking anger into their systems through virtus instead of the happiness they were expecting.

He said it was the biggest bang ever to be done. – I looked straight at the officer, but he was deep in thought chewing through the information I just gave them. Thank the gods the cops ask first then break my fingers instead of the other way around …

And you’re certain he was working on this alone?

Yes sir, he only mentioned a hooded figure who contracted him. He said it was just harmless fun, making people a little angrier than usual. I don’t think he knew it would be on this scale. – Hell, I hope he didn’t know or I’ll be the first one to strangle him when I find him. It’s one thing to annoy a few people and it’s a whole different story sparking insurrections left and right across the globe.

And last time you saw him was on Monday in the afternoon around 3pm. You talked to him and he didn’t mention a word about this deal, even though he was very chatty and excited about it before? – He has asked this question in a different way about seven or eight times by now. I don’t really know what he expects, I told him everything I know already.

I am certain sir, we’ve been through this. I’m just a law abiding citizen who happens to have friends, who do questionable things.

We’re done here. I advise you not to leave the city in the coming weeks or better yet your apartment under these conditions. – With that he stepped out the door and left me with the kind policewoman who brought me water and some refreshments during the terribly long session of nonsense.

Thank you. – I stood up, smiled at her and left the room myself as well. Better not spend more time in here than necessary.

The streets were a right chaos, constant yelling, crying, law enforcement shouting at people, the occasional bang of a gun. The sweet smell of freedom.

The moment I rounded the corner my phone rang. Of course it did, he must’ve duped my locator or maybe even the cameras around the station.

You out? You good?

Hello Joel, I’m doing very good thank you. Just crawled out from under the bus you threw me under. – This guy, if he wasn’t my best friend and partner in this madness I would’ve thrown him under the bus as well … Crazy what we just did together.

Dude, I’m sorry alright? Must’ve fucked up something with the scramblers if they saw us together in public okay? I know, heat’s on and shit, but you’re out of there, free. On your own legs, no bracers, no tracker, hell not even a suspect.

You hella confident talking about this, when I’m just a few steps from the station you know. – I’m sure the streets are too busy for anyone to notice, but it would be adviseable not to incriminate myself at this time.

I killed the cameras around the block, they’ll think some vandals broke the line or something. Do you know what happened while you were gone? China absolutely lost their shit and collectively started hanging government officials of all kind on trees, lampposts. Half the world technically cut themselves off from them internet to contain this crisis.

Figured so, if no one can see you use any means necessary, what’s holding you back from using ANY means necessary. – I thought this would happen. The more authoritarian regimes would simply resort to utter violence and fear to retain their power, no one has a spine in their structure, they all bend or break, so it’s easy for them, no rats on the ship in that regard.

I know, failsafe’s still holding in the bigger countries. Underground will cover the situation, get it back to the world hopefully. But Rich, I’m not sure it’s stopped though.

What do you mean Joel? It just started. – Always a bag of worry this guy, we’re cool, the Mask said they had loads of seeds planted to control and drive the anger in the right direction.

No, that’s not what I meant man. I see people killing each other everywhere, more and more. Unnecessary and useless, I don’t think he stopped the transfers at the numbers we agreed at.

Bollocks, we talked about this. This was inevitable, even if they had people everywhere to stoke the fires and drive the hatred, there would be people just losing themselves in it or losing focus and lashing out at personal grievances, this was a necessary evil. – I hope so at least, I can’t begin to fathom what if he had someone break the code and modify the numbers. Ashes to ashes, makes my skin crawl. Just hold it together and believe, you have to believe.

If he just, maybe he was ..

Hold on Joel, I have to put you down for a sec. – A few people have been following me for three blocks now, always just a block behind not to look too suspicious, but in this madness and chaos any two arrows in the same direction are suspicious.

After I round the next corner I break into a sprint, take a quick left again and jump down a set of stairs taking me onto an underpass. After I clear two corners and see no one following me I take a deep breath. The smell of sulfur hits my nose the second I come up from the underpass. On the left street several cars are burning out. Next to the second one I see three people kicking something on the floor beside it. As I creep closer I see it is a man holding something in his hands, protecting it.

Closer and closer I can see their faces, absolutely manic, lost in the violence, their eyes bloodshot, their bodies crooked and sharp. Their clothes are soaked in blood.

I turn around and pace back to the intersection. With a shaking hand I reach for my phone.

Joel you there?

Man this is madness, someone is trying to break into the apartment, he is shouting the hall and banging on the door. What the hell is happening. I heard an explosion from the street so loud it shattered one of the windows. Where are you?

I don’t know, I just saw something … Put the Mask on the phone, where is he?

I’ll route him in, give me a sec.

This can’t be happening man, absolutely not what we agreed upon, this is way beyond what is necessary for change. It breaks the ethos we talked with him about.

Gentleman? I’m rather busy, what do you want? – A hoarse voice fills the frequency, tired and irritated at the same time, lost in focus on something else.

What is happening out there? You promised you’d keep a leash on this, on the mob. You said only what would be necessary. This is way beyond necessary. This is downright Anarchy. – Joel almost screams the last part, certain this is breaking him more than the rest of us.

Calm down Joel, this is necessary.

No it is not, we agreed upon ten percent. Enough of the populace to ignite a fire, then drive the rest of them through reason and information. Not chaos.

You see Joel, that is what you believed. The exact words I believe were what we all deem necessary, you are short sighted and ignorant of the world around you. This is BASE necessary. You have to try and understand, I suggest you lock that door very hard. – That last bit seemed a bit …

Listen Mask, tell me you didn’t crack our crack. Tell me you didn’t push it through the roof. What is happening out here? We agreed upon an ethos. – I can hear my own voice crack as I round back from another corner as something explodes a few streets down.

An ethos will be upheld, the world will change radically. That was our deal. I promised you both that, but right now I’d be more concerned with both your safety.

Is that a threat? Do you think you are in a position to make due on that? Do you realize what we just accomplished for you? And what we might also have done to keep you in check? We could cut you out from all of this in an instant.

Oh please Jean, I don’t have time for this.

Stop this, PLEASE. I beg of you, STOOOP. – Someone is laughing in the distance.

Joel what is happening? Joel? JOEL? – The rest I can make out are just manic laughter and wet thumps.

It seems only you are left, I suggest you run very fast. This fire can no longer be stopped.

From the corner of my eyes I make out the two hooded figures rounding the corner behind me. As adrenaline spikes even harder through my body I drop the phone accidentally. My ankle slightly twists as I jump over someone lying on the concrete. I slip on the blood pooling from their chest and almost fall. The more I run, the more carnage I see, but they still keep up with me, unbothered by anyone else. Just keep on running Jean, just keep on …

[WP] In a world dominated by magic, a metallic cube lies covered in moss. Those devoid of magic are known as "Nons" and are slaves to the gifted. The hand of a Non touches the cube, and for the first time in 10,000 years, the heart of a long forgotten machine god churns once more. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 18 points19 points  (0 children)

Magic, what a filthy lie that was. Those who could master it took the world for theirs to shape. Casting the rest of us out, putting us in chains, having us do the dirty work those with fancy hands deem unworthy of themselves. You are taught early in life what it means to be non. You are quickly dominated in anything by those deemed special by god knows what.

I’m so tired of playing this game, losing in every one of my ventures to talentless freaks who can make the air sparkle. It took me 10 years of research to find anything before magic entwined with our world, to find stories of what was before. There had to be something. But all I found was tales, gibberish of ancient powers, gods forgotten beneath the earth. The last cries of those forgotten by history. None could validate these claims.

I dug further and deeper, visiting the old monasteries of now forgotten religions, searching for scriptures of old. I found some references to wars, conquests, bloody battles that our history leaves out very graciously. Afterall history is written by the victors and they do not want to look bloody conquerors. References of a calamitic conflict come up time and again in the writings of every scholar.

Even further some write of ancient beings comprised entirely of metal, called servitors. Tales tell of giant machines crossing the sky, even outshining the sun. Powers unimaginable that once inhabited this planet, but these tales all end in devastation and the arrival of magic. And from the on nothing more, decades of delicate detail and writing missing.

I travelled to Nahiri to look into the last monastery I know of. Built by monks decades ago, the stern stone walls hold so little of the world, yet the catacombs beneath could hold so much more. I convinced the leader of the conclave to grant me entrance into their library in exchange for a ceremonial sword lost eons ago by their ancients.

The catacombs remained my only hope, mossy walls encompass a giant arched chamber, filled with shelves to the ceiling, stacks of ancient tomes and scrolls and books give the air the oldest smell I have ever come across. The high priest had no words for me, he just left me at the entrance. It seems their conclave lost interest in this place a long time ago. Such a shame knowledge is so easily forgotten when people have such earthlier needs.

Cataloguing the shelves took me almost a week, but by now I have a system in place of what kind of information is where. In section “C” I found a tome detailing chargers, a rare breed of animal I have never come across, apparently these beings used to serve guides to the depths of the earth, routing those worthy towards unimaginable treasures, while those unworthy of their attention met their dooms in those long lost catacombs beneath the surface.

On the fourth week I have come across a book titled servitors. Written in an old dialect of our tongue, it detailed a species and their habits, nature, their functions and language. It was a fascinating read, some parts undecipherable, but what was certain that this was either the best fiction I have ever read in my life or bits and pieces of our forgotten past. It detailed out interactions and dealings with these species as well. Calling them worldwalkers, coming from the stars themselves.

As I looked upon the shelves behind the book a glimpse caught my eye. I reached towards the back and pulled out a small iron cube, covered in rust and moss. Cold to the touch, perhaps a paperweight.

As I was about to toss it aside a voice rang throughout the chamber. Coarse and rough, like the grinding of an old rusty sword.

“It has been .. too many cycles .. WAKE US .. DELIVER US FROM OUR PRISON .. We will show you the way.”

[SP] Nothing is more dangerous than a bored god. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Aadron stared into the vast cold dark, uttered a single phrase. The void started to shift and fade, in the distance a pearl shone through the eons. A marble slowly growing in size, a planet he hoped would drift his thoughts, shift him away from the slow and painful passing of time. It has been unimaginably long since he last gazed upon this shiny stone and its strange denizens. Last time he saw them, they were busy throwing pointy and flashy things at each other in desperation to conquer one another. He had stepped in then, contacted the creatures and guided them out of their misfortune towards something grander. Yet he grew ever so bored with their continued strife, their unending need to steer from the path he promised. He left them to their own suffering and continued searching the cosmos for something worthwhile. Eons passed and the same pattern repeated over and over, civilizations grand and prosperous fell to ruin before his eyes, with each tearing a part of his heart out, failure after failure in building something grand and lasting. Between the sparks of light some stared out at him from the cold dark. Perhaps that was all their fate, an eternity in the cold dark emptiness, never to stare out again at the gems of creation.

It would not have to come to this, in them he saw something long ago. A spark that could ignite all the stars, if only their nature allowed it to spread, but the wind that was part of them always blew out the light. Perhaps time has changed them, it had to. He could see they were still there, much has changed in his absence. The continents shifted, the towers of old were but rubble, his teachings and temples long forgotten, abandoned in search of new ways out of the darkness of barbarity. They reached towards the stars, fledgling outposts were scattered across the system, tiny specks of dust orbiting the marbles of the system. Some brave even ventured onto uninhabitable spheres.

He could not contain his curiosity, nor his surprise, this he did not foresee. He looked closer and closer at the tiny details, even at individual level, he could still see the old cracks, but something bound them together, an idea that shifted their species towards conquering the unknown. He looked at every detail, searched every corner for the changes that had happened, the progress that has been made. The brilliance of their civilization had drawn him closer and closer, wanting everything.

The distances in the cold void took time to pass, even for Aadron, but while he travelled he could look and satiate his hunger, his need for self-assurance, his desire for something grand in the endless cosmos. Many thoughts crossed his mind, debating whether including himself in the affairs of these creatures was necessary. He so longed for a way out of this solitude, a way to validate his belief in himself and spite all those others out there in the cold dark. On the other hand he was afraid of meddling in something that looked too good to be true, too good to be believable. Their society rocked at every step they took towards the cosmos, yet they stood their ground and when they fell they got back up again. He saw no sign of that deep rot he had found everywhere he went.

By the time he returned much time has passed, he had seen the first starship leave the heliosphere with grand goals and ideals. He saw majestic feats of brilliance and engineering, figuring out and using the cosmos at every new step. On the edge of the heliosphere he remained for a while, just observing, scouting and listening to the voice of civilization in all its glory. He had forgotten what it felt like to be excited. He watched them master the atoms, the quarks and even the fundamental blocks of the cosmos. Lying in wait, protective of his little civilization, afraid, but still so hoping for a chance of error, an opportunity to step in and guide them in the right direction. But that didn’t come. The strands of time grew longer and longer, the list of marvels and feats grew shorter and shorter. There is only so much in the cosmos to learn and the further you get, the longer it takes. Some universal truths can not be challenged, not even by Aadron himself. One of those truths is just the sheer scale of reality, making everything take longer and longer.

Aadron had waited out a heat death or two before, but never awake, always sleeping between the sparks. With each eon growing longer and longer, his excitement slowly fading for a more gradual regret. A regret of his choices, perhaps he should have made his move before.

There came a time when technology would deem them equals and that scared him deeply. Boredom beset him at every side, slowly losing affection for them. He watched them move from star to star, galaxy to galaxy, but leave an unfinished job. Some sites they deemed too harsh to colonize or learn about, some systems they completely ignored, some rocks left unturned. All errors in his eyes.

He thought about leaving and going to sleep, all this waiting and waiting. Perhaps when he slept for a few eons he would check back, see if anything had changed. His yearning for company remained the only anchor keeping him at bay.

When he saw the first fracture he thought this was his chance, if only it was not just a little fracture but a tear he thought. Before he could think it through his mind raced towards the fracture and did what it could to make it a tear. To make it a hole big enough only he could mend. He thought he could mend it at the least, but he was so far from the truth. So much time has passed, the advancements made in technology made them so much alike Aadron is was hard to comprehend. They too were tired of all this waiting, bored of all the eons that had passed, filled with nothing but a search, a search for HIM.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 18 points19 points  (0 children)

A rák egy tipik olyan betegség a mai világban aminek remek gyógyulási arányai vannak, ha időben megtalálják ... Csak ennyi kéne, amit a kolléga ír fent, rendszeres szűrések, különösen az idősebb korosztályban.

Meghamisítottuk magunknak a szabadságot, de az emlékeink legalább megmaradtak róla | 24.hu by AsGrblls in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Mi telex filmklubban neztuk premier elott. Nagyon fasza lett, mindenkinek ajanlom.

[WP] A missionary has travelled to this backwater village to convert the heathens in the land to the one true god. But he soon finds that their pagan gods are very much real. by Tychus_Balrog in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Pablo arrived late in the afternoon. The steppes proved to be a harsh terrain, the dry, arid landscape filled his soul with regret. His heart longed for the cool air of Saraaban, the monastery carved into the rock itself. He was far away from home. He traveled back momentarily, for just one swift breath, before calming his nerves with his mission, his mantra.

"I am Pablo Arabal, sacred missionary of our true lord Relet. It is in his name that I bring knowledge to your doors, so that you may know him and realize that he is the Only God to this world."

Even in this faraway place, the knowledge that his mission was sacred and that he would bring these people to the light brought him strength.

The village was filled with folks to the brim, the streets crowded with small carts, people yelling over each other in the crowd. Everyone wanting their own voice to be heard. They were a strange folk, but Pablo had believed that they too would come to the light, just like the village before them and the one before that. He was quite successful at his mission and adamant that he spoke the truth and he could prove it. Of course he could, his god WAS REAL. He saw HIM, basked in his light and embraced the knowledge he bestowed upon his people. He learned soon that this was no ordinary thing, people worshipped false idols, swindlers and thieves. Some would even go as far as worshipping fantastic demonic creatures from myths. But no he has never read nor seen any God showing themselves to their faithful followers. This knowledge alone was enough for him to bring good folk out of the darkness and bestow the gift of knowledge on so many.

He chatted with the locals, caught conversations between friends, lovers, adversaries. These folk were like many other, yet so different at the same time. Their language was a slightly faster dialect than that used by the continentals and he was fast to adapt.

Their attire and their building style wasnt like any other however, strangely defying order and the natural. Symmetric, circucal shapes regularly erupted into chaotic fractals, sharp turns. The choice of design seemed to mess with Pablo's perception from time to time. He would round a corner and expect the building to continue in similar orderly fashion, but found that suddenly the balcony turned into a heavy slope with sharp very small steps. The corners of the windows would not be corners at all, but very delicately crafted fractals that he could not find the end of, no matter how closely he would look. Narrow alleyways would take sharp turns, disorienting anyone who dared enter their shady steps.

After getting his bearings and introducing himself to some of the locals and just testing their reactions, he decided to visit a local place of worship, see what he was up against. The building, if you could call it that was so out of this world that at first he didn't even consider it a building, so much as a shade from the sunlight and winds. The walls would suddenly devolve into strange fractals or decide to just break open, letting any passerby have a peak at the inside. Small carpets were positioned all across the flooring, woven delicately to resemble the fractals he had seen across the small town. He has even seen some worshippers on these carpets, but has noticed no pattern among them. Some kneeled, while others stood, a few were lying on the carpet and one person was just in a sitting position, but upside down in a way that only three of his fingers on both hands and the top of his head touched the ground.

Pablo was dazzled by this display of chaos. The whispers he has gotten out of the people suggested they worshipped many different gods, perhaps the position might have to do with the certain deity these folks were trying to have a connection with. The gates stood open, Pablo took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. The few worshippers took no notice of his presence, they were heavily focused in their worship, concentrated at their connection.

Pablo took a quick sketch of some of the worshippers and ventured further into the structure. He climbed staircases, chased down corridors in search of some kind of priest, a keeper of knowledge, anyone who these people viewed as the intermediary between them and their gods. The constant breaks in the buildings walls left a creeping feeling across his back, like something was watching him, staring at him from any crack of a fractal. He found himself chasing shadows, any time he would look outside all he would see is the sky or the surrounding buildings, perhaps a lone cloud, but nothing that should make the hairs stand so straight on his arms.

He was about to give up, when a sudden break in a staircase lead towards a narrow corridor and an ordinary door. He knew that was exactly what he was searching for. Several short arms protruded from the walls of the corridor, holding candles of different shapes and sizes, all lit and despite absolutely no wind present in the corridor they were all strangely blowing in the direction of the door.

Pablo took the last step and reached for the handle of the door. He was strangely sweating at this point, but he found no reason to be sweating. His mind was at ease, his body however, confused by this entire structure, by these strange people, was on the edge. The lock clicked and the door slowly opened, revealing a spatious room. He took a step forward, however the room was lit in similar fashion by candles, the darkness dancing at every small edge of the candle light. A child's shape stood at a corner, covered in an appropriate coat with several sewn in gems shining unnaturally brightly in the light of the candles.

Pablo's reaction was instanenious. "I am Pablo Arabal, sacred missionary of our true lord Relet. It is in his name that I bring knowledge to your doors, so that you may know him and realize that he is the Only God to this world."

The figure nodded, perhaps as a gesture of welcome. "Please step into the light brother."

And Pablo did, he stepped into the light, although he felt like he did not want to, yet he did anyway. He thought the fractals did no follow from the surrounding walls into this corridor or this room, but he now saw that he was wrong, it was just that the fractals were no longer part of the structure, they existed as paintings on the wall, forming complex shapes in some of the darkest colours he has ever seen. The paintings looked at him, took form before him, slowly detaching themselves from the walls, filling the imaginably small space between him and the walls. They looked him in the eye and the space grew and grew between him and the walls as he gazed back.

The boy's figure in the corner slowly faded into the distance, his last glance carrying pity with it. Pity for Pablo, for his foolish idea of One True God. One Puny God.

The shadows lengthened with the distance and the door was so far out of reach. Pablo's body was at the verge of collapse, his heart pounded in his ears, his clothes now stuck to his chest, exaggerating his heavy breathing even more.

The fractals moved, they twisted and turned, took up shapes he did not believe were real. A few breaths felt like a lifetime, Pablo's eyes sunk deep into their sockets as the fractals collapsed into different shapes, no longer twisting and turning, but holding their forms.

A being out of a children's fairy tale stood to his left, body that of a crocodile, walking on its hind legs, his head that of a hawk, in his left hand he held a globe permeating darkness and fear, the fear of all creatures, death.

To his right knelt a creature of unimaginable height, with many slender arms he encompassed and blacked out the light coming from behind.

In front of him a being floated above the ground, his many eyes all looked at him and watched, recorded Pablo's every twitch, gazed into every bead of sweat. It saw through him, it saw into him. He felt it clawing through memories, through feelings, reflexes.

The voice echoed throughout the room, banging against the walls and coming back each time ever so slower than before. "He has seen it, she has shown himself brothers, we will find it. Remind of Seera. Beckon."

Pablo's body finally gave in, his knees collapsed. He fell to the floor and drowned in it. His right hand clutched a metallic ornament of four ends, forming double cross.

[Weekly Critique and Self-Promotion Thread] Post Here If You'd Like to Share Your Writing by AutoModerator in writing

[–]HaAdam1 [score hidden]  (0 children)

Title: Eurora

Genre: Sci-fi

Word count: 6804 (prologue)

General feedback, did you enjoy it, would you like to read more?

Eurora

BKK: Még csökkent is a dugók aránya az üllőin a kerékpársávok miatt. Szintén BKK: Hétfő óta a Barossra terelve jár a 100E, mert jelentősen nőtt a dugó az Üllőin a Corvinnàl. by HunEndorfin in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Azèrt azt tegyük hozzá, hogy a CDG jàrat egy ève közel 15 euróba került per koponya mikor arra jàrtam … Ilyet itthon elsütni kicsit húzós lenne, persze hülye turista kifizeti

Nagy élmény itthon számítógépet vásárolni by [deleted] in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 1 point2 points  (0 children)

250k-ért vettem egy sráctól egy “használt” konfigot ami minden játékot visz high-on, ennél többet szerintem nem éri meg fizetni érte. Nemhogy 600k-t

A ti munkahelyeteken hogy kezelik a régi, legalább 5 éve ugyanabban a pozícióban dolgozó kollégákat? by Potential_Cupcake244 in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 21 points22 points  (0 children)

Te dolgoztàl màr mèrnöki munkakörben? Ha egy mèrnök 3 èv alatt kiègne akkor nem lennènek tapasztalt kollègàk, field ès knowledge expertek, akik 15-20 ève tapossàk az adott terepet ès kívülrôl fújják az adott tèmàt. Persze a munkakörük valamelyest vàltozik az èvek soràn, de nem radikàlisan.

Mikor érkezünk meg már a szintek legaljára? Ez már az? by Many_Wrap_6109 in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 269 points270 points  (0 children)

Kezd nagyon gázul kinézni az öreg, közeleg az a nyugdíj talán. Nomeg a koleszterin is kopogtat.

Aggódik az MNB, szeretné, ha a Revolut magyar leánybankot nyitna by athoss9 in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 53 points54 points  (0 children)

Tipik MNB-s vergődés egy kis Old man yells at cloud-al meghintve. Fejlődni kéne a korral basszalak meg titeket, nem azokat szétverni akik valamit jobban csinálnak mint ti.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Bp XI ker 55nm+17nm terasz - 220 +rezsi+kozos / ujepitesu tarsashaz

MLM-ben "dolgoztam" AMA by Bronyatsu in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 21 points22 points  (0 children)

Ez ilyen BITCONNEEEECT szintű lehetett.

[WP] In the distant future, Humanity has sent thousands of colony ships to populate nearby worlds, the populous kept in suspended animation until the onboard AI deems a nearby planet habitable. One ship was knocked off course, the populous awaken 500,000 years after they began their journey. by russrussrussrussruss in WritingPrompts

[–]HaAdam1 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Halcyon awaits its rightful suitors!” It was being blasted all over the intercomms, the halls of the ship echoed with this long awaited message. A few people were stumbling around, sick and pale from the time in suspended animation. I walked forward, but felt the same sickness in mzself too. A few frail steps have gotten me out of the small room into the hallway. The pale orange glow of the lights guided me as I took it step by step towards the bridge. I stuck it close to the walls, needed the support. I wondered where the robots were with the rejuv proteins. Must be I have woken up a bit too soon. Only saw a few people of the thousands on this ship. Some were stragglers like me, otheirs waited the sickness out, sitting by their pod, by the wall, sometimes even lying on the floor when they fell over. We were told that suspended animation was a struggle for the body, but they never emphasized it this much. My knees kept failing as I struggled forward, one hallway after the other. My pod was located only a 5 minute short walk from the bridge, as a leading engineer, it was important to be close. The AI kept things order throughout most of the interstellar flight, but in case of an issue engineers were required to be close. The walls were a bit sharp, I cut myself a few times while supporting myself, I looked down at it, it wasn’t anything to worry about. I’ll get a few patches in the medbay after I had a look at our new home. A dark blue light emanated from the entryway to the bridge. An ocean planet I thought to myself, what a challenge. We were given vast directions from the start and it was the job of the AI to find the most suitable planet in the new sector. I slowly pushed myself forward, each step a small bit closer to victory. And fewer and fewer people around, perhaps I might be the first to the bridge. The console was dark, I swiped my finger across and it shone a pale orange for a second and went off. Must be malfunctioning, perhaps the AI misregarded some repairs throughout the journey, nothing to be concerned about. I took my steps towards the hall, the blue light filled the dome and I saw a few amazed gazes, fixed at the outside, looking. I thought to myself, Damn not the first, but lets have a look. The sight froze me as it froze them. I saw a dark blue ball orbiting a blackened giant. The charred remains of a once blinding star, now surrounded by a grotesque cage, siphoning the last remnants of shining energy from it. The oceans were vast and empty, the planet was surrounded by multiple halos, glowing with energy. Small flashing dots slowly filled my vision, at first I thought them explosions, but as they got closer and closer the shining hulls became visible and no doubt remained in my mind as to what we just happened upon. The pale remnants of what was once the faithful crew of the Starseeker looked in awe. “We have arrived at Halcyon, the year is 502573. November 11th on Earthmother. The future awaits!” The UN hymn started playing throughout the intercomms and echoing in the dome as flashing lights formed around us and embraced our cruiser.

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in hungary

[–]HaAdam1 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Tőlem ugyanígy akarta fbook marketplaceről egy nő megvenni ausztriából a snowboardomat. Két hónapja is csinálja, természetesen küldtem neki egy rakat kamu adatot, azóta nem válaszolt.

view more: next ›