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Old 03-06-2019, 09:09 AM   #1
Sonic Johnny
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Default There were strangers in the group

Names we didn't know, handles and pseudonyms and what passed in the twenty first century as a nom de plume. The system fan screamed its pallid scream, a feeble imitation of the shuddering storm of nonsense it was slaved to render.

Everything hissed and popped like it had been left sitting a deep fryer by some kitchen hand who had dropped their apron and walked off into the night. They didn't go home, or to a bar, or to a bridge of such an adequate height that potential energy gathered when jumping from it might be sufficient, upon dispersal, to turn off their pilot light. They just crossed the parking lot and trudged off into the corn field in company of a sallow moon, nothing crackling but a mute prayer for the corn field to extend forever so that they could avoid whatever variation lay beyond it.

All the while, we were sitting in the boiling oil; thermal energy thrumming, heaving in violent plumes invisible above the surface, the heating element unflinching in the face of its chaos, unmoved by the clumsy, abject violence it had unwittingly become party to.

Eventually, perhaps, someone would come and find it all and rectify it. Perhaps nobody would come, but eventually up the invisible chain somwhere, some abstract element, perhaps a minute filament forged a world away, by some enumerated individuals each one ignorant of its eventual specific purpose and by extension inculpable in its inevitable failure, would give, and the power supply would stop, and the heating element would fade from its ephemeral perfect white back to a lowly mortal silver, and the violence would dim and then slow and then stop, and we would rest.

But that filament was made perfect, copied from a model meticulously engineered to run a thousand lifetimes before entropy finally popped it, first time every time. The kitchen hand was not coming back. No customers would discover and right this obscenity.

There was nothing to do but wait, and endure, and try to become one, if not in form then at least in spirit, with the writhing oil.

Last edited by Sonic Johnny : 03-06-2019 at 09:48 AM.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 09:13 AM   #2
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is this your first trip to the balkans?

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 09:23 AM   #3
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Sonic Johnny View Post
Names we didn't know, handles and pseudonyms and what passed in the twenty first century as a nom de plume. The system fan screamed its pallid scream, a feeble imitation of the shuddering storm of nonsense it was slaved to render.

Everything hissed and popped like it had been left sitting a deep fryer by some kitchen hand who had dropped their apron and walked off into the night. They didn't go home, or to a bar, or to a bridge of such an adequate height that potential energy gathered when jumping from it might be sufficient, upon dispersal, to turn off their pilot light. They just crossed the parking lot and trudged off into the corn field in company of a sallow moon, nothing crackling but a mute prayer for the corn field to extend forever so that they could avoid whatever variation lay beyond it.

All the while, we were sitting in the boiling oil; potential energy thrumming, heaving in violent plumes invisible above the surface, the heating element unflinching in the face of its chaos, unmoved by the clumsy, abject violence it had unwittingly become party to.

Eventually, perhaps, someone would come and find it all and rectify it. Perhaps nobody would come, but eventually up the invisible chain somwhere, some abstract element, perhaps a minute filament forged a world away, by some enumerated individuals each one ignorant of its eventual specific purpose and by extension inculpable in its inevitable failure, would give, and the power supply would stop, and the heating element would fade from its ephemeral perfect white back to a lowly mortal silver, and the violence would dim and then slow and then stop, and we would rest.

But that filament was made perfect, copied from a model meticulously engineered to run a thousand lifetimes before entropy finally popped it, first time every time. The kitchen hand was not coming back. No customers would discover and right this obscenity.

There was nothing to do but wait, and endure, and try to become one, if not in form then at least in spirit, with the writhing oil.
Yeah

Go on

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 10:34 AM   #4
buzzard
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They didn't go home, or to a bar, or to a bridge of such an adequate height that potential energy gathered when jumping from it might be sufficient, upon dispersal, to turn off their pilot light.
I stopped here.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 10:43 AM   #5
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not bad but the sinsemillian chronicle is better, im(holy)o

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 10:58 AM   #6
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“Goddamned Ghouls of Gorgoroth!” he bellowed like a male musk ox in heat. “My secret self, my psychic center, has aroused itself unto the ultimate pinnacle of being!” he exulted, and as he exulted he partially rotated his head, ninety degrees to the left, ninety degrees to the right, on his enormous column of a neck: a neck that Gilgamesh in his prime might have been proud to have possessed.

“Um, sorry to interrupt but, uh, actually, well, I don’t mean to contradict or correct you but…” a diffident whisper lisped out of the darkness that enveloped the far side of the living room. In a gesture of uncharacteristic unselfishness, the Professor handed the blunt over to the darkness.

“Here, hit that, it will bolster the Alluvial Quicksilver in your spinal column and grant you the courage to express yourself without that crippling hesitation,” said he. A skeletal hand materialized out of the gloom to clutch the proffered blunt. The depths of the darkness were faintly illumined by the crimson coal of living flame, and I could see the drawn, haggard, and malnourished face of Bogdan Bogdanovitch. A few hits in rapid succession and the Professor was proven right, for it appeared that Bogdan had acquired a backbone. He spoke, with a half faltering, half swaggering confidence he was wholly unaccustomed to. He said, “There are no ghouls in Gorgoroth.” Upon his lumpy throne, the Professor blinked his eyelids in aristocratic astonishment. “There are no ghouls in Gorgoroth,” repeated Bogdan. This time the Professor collected himself enough to give a contemptuous snort, but Bogdan boldly carried on, emboldened by the cocaine.

“Nope, no ghouls,” he was saying, “orcs, yes, the whole plateau is crawling with them, goblins and trolls, the sun scorning Uruk-hai and the javelin wielding Olog-hai. Hell, there are even Easterlings and Haradrim to be found in Mordor but no, not one, not a single ghoul to be found in all the Land of the Shadow—from the razor peaks of the Ered Lithui to the salt wastes surrounding the Sea of Nurn, there are no ghouls.” For once the Professor had nothing to say. Instead he reached dumbly into the darkness for the blunt and cherished its consumption like an infant cherishes its mother’s breast. His face was dead, expressionless. He had been mastered in the Art of Tolkienic Lore, and that by a cowardly, broken shell of a nihilist.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 11:18 AM   #7
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Reminds me of Bored of the Rings, written by the founders of National Lampoon, which featured such memorable characters as Dildo Bugger and was a revelation to my prepubescent self

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 11:33 AM   #8
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I don't read fic unless there's boning in it.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 11:45 AM   #9
FoolofaTook
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ok. someday when i am famous and wealthy you will all be sending me pms like "hey took, you are so awesome, remember me? let's hang" and i'll be like "do i even know you?"

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 12:26 PM   #10
Run To Me
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Is anyone gonna engage with sonjon’s original posting? I’d do it but I’m dumb, plus it’s not Sunday.

Anyway i like this, a lot

We need more threads posting original literary works

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 12:42 PM   #11
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it's def pretty metal

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 01:42 PM   #12
buzzard
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In all honesty, it could do without the needless convolution and currently sounds like Wikipedia was been consulted along the way with no real payoff stemming from much of the language used.

To at least my eyes, it comes off sounding like this (which is intended to be bad):
Upon their boots they straddled a tectonic magnitude, fierce in its containment of a miasmic core so teeming as it was with that molten potential to consume from one moment to the next entire territories and all those species bound within like some biocenological stockade providing no true sense of sanctuary.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 01:46 PM   #13
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yes and what about my sinsemillian chronicle extract?

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 01:48 PM   #14
buzzard
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That could do without existing altogether. I'd rather read the original post over and over again until the word counts level out.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 01:58 PM   #15
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sounds like Wikipedia was been consulted
Shame on me for fucking up a sentence while critiquing prose.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 02:32 PM   #16
FoolofaTook
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That could do without existing altogether. I'd rather read the original post over and over again until the word counts level out.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 02:33 PM   #17
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Actually, I figured it was going to be something along those lines.

 
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Old 03-06-2019, 02:34 PM   #18
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When I get rich and famous, you, yes you Buzzard, will be the first to be blocked on Netphoria!

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:02 PM   #19
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Could do with some Mormon sex scenes.

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:04 PM   #20
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ok your also getting blocked!

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:05 PM   #21
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I meant the original post.

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:05 PM   #22
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fuck it i'm leaving netphoria instead! and i was about to share with you the tale of Levidolocus (say it aloud, in an sonorous voice), mightiest of the mighty megalothons.

i hope your happy.

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:06 PM   #23
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I meant the original post.
this will teach you to be more specific!

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 04:12 PM   #24
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i hope your happy.
I hope that was intentional!

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 06:04 PM   #25
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Yes, it was.

And I'm still quitting Netphoria. I've just postponed it until tomorrow.

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 06:06 PM   #26
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sonic johnny, your writing is cool. don't let these grumble-grimalkins get you down.

 
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Old 03-07-2019, 09:58 PM   #27
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Quote:
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I stopped here.
you made it further than i did

 
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Old 03-08-2019, 01:01 AM   #28
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Quote:
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sonic johnny, you’re writing is cool. don't let these grumble-grimalkins get you down.
Fixed.

 
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Old 03-08-2019, 06:02 AM   #29
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i did that on purpose, ok?

 
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