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Newest Form of Faceless Creature
These newly discovered beasts have been identified as a more evolved hybrid of the Faceless Creature. They have finally adapted with eye sockets and teeth, yet they still have not developed eye balls or actual mouths with a throat. This species has grown even skinnier and taller. This one that was the first finding of its kind is a young adult and is currently 15.79 feet tall. The species of all Faceless Creature never develop a gender so the only way they can reproduce and create other versions of their species is that about one in every fifteen of them will develop a tumor-like mass somewhere on their bodies which later grows and 'births' a new creature. With this creature in particular demonstrates how in some cases the newly birthed creatures will develop abnormally depending on the area of the 'tumor'. Usually when the 'baby' will combine with the 'parent' like so, is caused from the 'tumor' forming on the head. With this species (and the one just before) also is usually de
Walls of Glass and DataThe first thing everyone notices is the walls. Not the fact the people on the front desk are comprised of foglets or that the engineer who passed them has carbon blades for legs or that Dr. Saraswati in Cryomedical is an uplifted octopus. No, its always the walls. Its not that they aren't interesting, more just not the first thing you would think people would pickup on.
You can see what I mean right? The walls in every one of TransTech's main corridors are glass, coated with a film like layer of optical circuits. Which I suppose is our fancy, high tech equivalent of whiteboards, but did you really expect any different from us? We have the added advantage though of being able to see through them to what the research team on the other side is working on. And often as not, their writing on the walls too because your not exactly going to scrabble for your tablet or, if your old school, pen & paper if you can just reach up and scribble down your eureka moment for all the rest of the tea
The China Apple DishThe china apple dish
(made by a Polish potter with a back bent like a liquid glass rod in the 1960s, bought by a passing American tourist who owned a failing zeppelin company, without a china stalk after a black maid threw it at her master (the American tourist), chipped after the ex-maid’s son got a hold of it, given as the only weeding present to said son’s wedding, stolen by a racist ballif who gave it to a charity shop, bought by a blind poet who then sold it at a flea market, stayed nestled in car boots until the seller was arrested for LSD possession, given to a police officer’s wife, lost at sea when The First World Floods hit in 2064, washed up at a synthetic-sand beach in Hawaii, taken by a Dutch conceptual artist to the cloud city of Neo Amsterdam, smashed into pieces by the artist’s sculptor boyfriend, used in a classical example of Antimodernism in the most prestigious gallery, toured around the FMC (Flying Metropolis Complex) for fifty y
ConversionAlong the corridors we walk.
Bare-footed I pad silently ahead, faintly aware of the coldness in the steel floor. I need no guidance, for everyone knows this path. We are all born knowing that, for many, these are the final steps we are witnessed taking. It is an unspoken thing.
His footsteps behind me are quieter than expected, much like the rest of his demeanor. There is no threat; there is no point. My body can be broken from a simple blow, my flesh ripped and limbs torn without any effort. Drunken tales of heroism and valiancy from the Old World are passed down and exacerbated around bonfires.
We enter the Conversion Chamber, and momentarily I am stunned by the sudden drop in temperature. Cold air rushes into my lungs, causing me to cough involuntarily. I pause and drop my eyes to the floor, my right hand raised to my mouth instinctively to stifle another cough.
My feet begin to ache from the chill in the floor, a throb slowly rising through my shins threatening to cramp my calves.
It started off as just a little cough over in China but over time, it spread and became worse; taking over half of the massive nation.
Through travel to see friends and family or just to get away, these infected people gave it to citizens in other countries such as Brazil, Iceland and parts of West Europe. The curse only escalated from there.
First, it survived through planes, then was transported through insect and rodents. It became tolerable to water and worked up a mean immune system for the cold, heat, moisture and the drugs we typically use. Then the virus decided to cause more pain to the human body and gave the specimen diarrhea, dementia, fatigue, hypersensitivity and dreaded heart failure.
It eventually got to the point where people were dying from it when the government of America began researching possible vaccines for this monstrosity. If only they knew it was too late.
The different regions took action and formed a lab of their best scientists to work together to create t
In the End - 235 words"Look at them, Marcus. Take away their pain and they'll do anything! Father always said it wasn't human, but after all what's good about human nature? That's why I'm talking to a severed head." The mad man paused, glancing at the vacant stare and limp skin mounted on the wall. "Well, he's not here now, so it doesn't matter anyway."
A knock came at the door.
"What?" he snapped.
The door opened and a man bowed his way into the sterile white room, holding a silver platter in his hands.
"Idiot!" The mad man dashed the platter out of his hands, spilling everything. "I want alcohol."
Smiling and nodding without a word, the man left.
The mad man snarled at the closing door, then paused. A shudder crossed his face, contorting his features. Clutching at the back of a green armchair, the only piece of furniture in the room, as pain shot through his abdomen, he looked at the part of the wall where a faded outline was all that remained of a mirror. He frowned, collapsing into the chair.
Bridge Talk<LeadHeart787>The bridge was quiet this day. The cosmos were bright with the birth of stars across its gape, illustrating the ship's frontal view with splashes of purple and deep hues of blue/green. The head engineer found his head upright; ears alert, crooked brow raised and eyes showing an odd emotion for the Brawnirin; fear. Sun-dipped irises jittered as Nogen eyed each star that lay before them, staff and the likes down below taking their well-needed rest. Don't lose hope, Nogen would think to himself, a lump in his throat. Soon.
<pixiemoth>Anya was peeking around when she came across the bridge. The young sahkqueetzu slowly peeked inside from the observation deck, noticing that one guy who usually explains the mission goals before they begin, "Ey! What'cha doing?" she asked, a cheeky, toothless grin on her face as she slowly approached the old guy.
<LeadHeart787>Ears twiddling with every syllable Anya produced, he would lower his brow before looking over his shou
Empire Equestria - Silly StoryDuring the battle of Equestria the forces of these sides - the Celestina Empire, the New Lunar Republic, the Crystal Empire, the Griffon Kingdom, the Changeling Swarm, the Guardians of Harmony, the AEGIS Organization, the Extraterrestrial Empire, the SCP Foundation, the Global Occult Coalitionthe Greater Cowrean Republic, the Federation of the Amareicas, several Groups of Interests (interested in SCPs), and the worst of all....Novaya Marerussia - kept on fighting and fighting when suddenly the forces of Novaya Marerussia was attacked alongside those by a well-defended city.
"Leader of the defended city, I am Grigor Stoyaneighvich of the future Novaya Marerussia! I want to know why you attacked us!" Grigor yells when the city kept on firing. The shells and rounds hit those who are attacking.
"Defenders of Marekind, I am Princess Luna - leader of the New Lunar Republic! Surrender now or else be prepared to be destroyed!" Princess Luna yells via her Royal Canterlot Voice. The defending fo
F-Zero: Seppuku 3/3 - Lap 12==Lap 12=
Thousands of men and women cheered in a dark stadium, many of which had very slum appearances. This stadium wasn’t filled with a single goodhearted person. Ex-Red Star and Bloody Chain goons, murderers, rapists, predators, rogues, pirates, mobsters; not a single type of criminal was vacant. The men and women of the crowd cheered more obnoxiously as the center of the stadium lit up, revealing a boxing ring.
A man in a dark purple tuxedo stepped into the ring, he had a very similar appearance to Mr. Zero—clearly mimicking his appearance. Overlooking the stadium was a wide window up near the ceiling. From behind the glass, calmly stood a fairly obese man in a fuzzy purple leopard skin coat. His chin was very fat, as it was pressed against his chest; the front of his neck wasn’t visible because of this. He hummed with an anxious look on his face. He chuckled and held up a glass of expensive liquor as he gazed down at the ring.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Tonigh
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More