/lit/ - Literature

>>17742358
>God is dead. We HAVE killed Him. Tens of thousands of limbs and organs fall fro the skies — the corpse of God. Anyone who eats a piece gains immortality. Governments are trying to stop it, but the cats are out of their bags: God will have his revenge.

>>17742358
campus novel that follows some neurotic faggot in his crusade to become the Otoya Yamaguchi (that is, kill a important political figure) of his country but only because he wants to become part of history (or for the lulz)
It's extremely shitty I know but I will eventually write it, don't steal.

Ace Ventura, pet detective

>>17742358
After a boy is eaten alive by a crocodile, his family begins a descent into madness and terror in this odyssey of modern horror. Part of a series of interconnected horror novels that can be read in any order. Each book serves as a stand alone story, yet builds a greater picture behind a sinister mystery in Chicago.

>>17742444
i like the idea of 7 billion people cannibalizing bloody limbs that have fallen out of the sky. there could be like factions hoarding it all and selling it or something. idk
>>17742499
not shit and wont steal.
>>17742519
i mean im not always the biggest jim carrey fan but yea that was a decent movie from what i remember(which is basically nothing)
>>17742610
wow this is a great idea. follow through with it anon

This is now a Wagner thread, post your worst Gesamntkunstworks

>>17742358
procedurally generated worlds
ego seeds spring
white taints black
shifting rooms
while humans fit slots

>>17742358
I've been thinking about writing a story based on a dream I had. It's about two men who are good friends, and they are both left dissatisfied and saddened with their romantic experiences with women, that they end up turning to each other for love and fulfillment. Sounds gay but whatever.

>>17742358
Anon could hardly believe it when they brought the lemur to his cell. He hadnt been entirely sure that the Zimbabwean zoo would even send the rare animal, but that the warden would have allowed it into the facility was, he knew, a whole other level of chance. And yet here we was with the fuzzy, striped-tailed rascal.

"You've come a long way, little buddy."

The lemur cocked an eyebrow at him, sizing him up with lemurlike incredulity, a hesitant lemur expression on its face. As an animal, there was no way it could have known that anon was here in prison for the heinous crime of posting child pornography on the internet. And yet it did seem to sense something about him, something strange. Anon continued.

"Little do you know, little lemur, that you are the key to my true plan. The key as well as the first step."

Anon stood on his bed, and the lemur shrank into the corner of the room fearfully, but instead of pursuing it, he fished around underneath the pillow on his bed, then pulled out a small bag of Planters salted peanuts.

"On the internet, where I also committed my heinous crimes, I read that you guys like these."

He opened the bag and retrieved a handful of the nutritious legumes and held it out to the lemur. The lemur sniffed the air, curious. It made its way slowly across the cell towards him, reached out, slowly at first, and then quickly snatched the nuts. It scampered back across the room and quickly scarfed them down. Its striped tail twitched with delight.

"That's right buddy. You can trust me. In fact, you'll have to, for my plan to work."

He thought he saw a glimmer of affection in the lemur's eye.

>>17742765
An iron-girded skyscraper of glass must one day top this foundation

>>17742358
"My angel," words whisper into the air.

Cold, thread-bare hands knit themselves around. A melancholy substitute for the flesh. It is a shadow but the yearning for the yarning is all the same.

Once, twice, and there it is.

Wool white as snow, encrusting itself with the erasure of a million possibilities and in that itchy eclipse life is sewn on the lurid homunculus.

Beady eyes look up at their benefactor.

"It is God that has begun anew with the cycle of fibre within fibre, synthetic flesh brought to a carnal we relish."

And we are done. The wood drawer closes and knees are upon the floor. An altar stands before and now to my God I pray for more.

>>17742821
You will never un-vandal your language, sorry!

>>17742821

>>17742726
pretty cool
>>17742759
that's ok anon, deep down we all have homoerotic tendencies, I think your story idea is fine.
>>17742765
i was waiting all week for the lemur anon to come back.
>>17742821
i apologize anon but I'm too high to understand this. previous anons have complained about my inability to understand complicated writing when I'm high and you are welcome to as well.

>>17742900
No need to apologize for getting high, anon. It's good that you're relaxing.
The writing isn't really complicated. I just tapped into my inner schizo to ramble and write about a man cumming on his sex doll made of yarn, this creation whom he feels as though he's the god of. He then proceeds to worship his own god after doing the deed.

>>17742957
thank you for understanding anon.
Pretty advanced writing for such a silly concept.
Keep up the schizo ideas

>>17742900
>>17742957
Exchange emails already you silly humans

>>17742358
>A ship full of assholes and an inappropriate alien space dragon land on an uncharted planet to discover the fate of the first expedition.
Had about 5 chapters posted on /scifi/ before infinitychan got arkancided. Thinking about posting it here, if writefaggery is okay

Doc 'em

The man who hired me to kill my wife is dying in my arms, something I'd really rather he did in the broken cart where I found him. The pay, of which I have so far received only half, is well worth it, however.

Ay God!

Once, there was a building.

There wasn't much to say about it. The building was obscenely ordinary. Aggressively non-descript. The building did its best to not draw attention, and this pleased the men who had built it.

The building sat at the center of the universe, a few miles from the local Steak and Shake, eight thousand yards from the nearest Walgreens, three hundred seventy two million, eight hundred fifteen thousand, six hundred and twenty three inches from the Kremlin, and approximately 7.5821292 E 19 angstroms to a stray wisp of incandescent hydrogen in the corona of a star that had no name other than a single data point as recorded by one of the largest optical telescopes.

The building was full of people who liked to measure things, and they were exceedingly adept at their craft.

>>17743885
O Mama

Each of these payloads sit docile within the evacuated hangar bays of our ship. Dozens of them lined up, with the ship's Autofab queued to produce more. The Executive Officer has declared the hangars to be an exclusion zone to all crew or autonomous drones. The curse of King Midas does not end with an old fairy tale.

Seventy-Nine screaming electrons mashed into a Pauli waveform the size of an actual gold atom, packed valence to valence across a curved dome protecting a matter conversion factory. The shield will immediately strip stray protons from the solar wind and suck them into the traps, ripening into a nanometer-thick shell of bright shiny degenerate matter. Yet - the Midas Shield will not play favorites with what it consumes. If some unfortunate bastard managed to get just close enough.. let’s say nature abhors a vacuum, and we've created a damn big one.

The long explanation would involve in-depth knowledge of particle physics, virtual boson gauge theory, and a bottle of aspirin.

The short answer is the Midas Shield would vacuum every proton out of your body until you were no more than a golden sheen splotched across the surface.

As I walk, I ponder just how much of a person would be left over after such an unfortunate event. The ship's service bus informs me that there are roughly seven times 10 to the 28th power of free electrons in the average human body, happily answering my idle thought.

The ship's service bus has also provided me with a detailed and vivid simulation of the incomprehensibly instant devastation that 10E28 free electrons would cause, if someone became part of the Midas Shield.

I shudder.

In a short time, the first of these factories will be delivered in low orbit around a distant alien star. It will feed upon the sunlight, and convert the raw mass of the solar wind into a transparent meta-material - one impervious to heat and intelligent enough to knit itself together into an optical lens that will grow until it has a surface area comparable to Australia.

At once, some million planets will face the pent fury of their own stars, as continents are peeled from their mantle and atmospheres made incandescent by an unrelenting torrent of light.

We can only hope it will stop them.

>>17743999
Get the fuck out of here Pynchon, you had your shot

Every star I can see with my naked eye, is one that cannot be seen from outside the Patch. Not without a telescope, at any rate.

My mind is still churning over a recent discovery, a planet lazily circling a yellow dwarf sun, close enough that the daylight would feel like an afternoon in the Caribbean. Too bad the planet itself is covered in glaciers from pole to equator. This isn’t terribly unusual, as Earth itself may have endured a similar state in its distant past. A globe spanning Ice Age that lasted until volcanic activity could produce enough greenhouse gasses to swing the climate back to a steaming hellhole.

Ice freezes at zero centigrade, or 273 Kelvin. The coldest temperature ever recorded on Earth was about 184 Kelvin.

This whole planet is roughly 23 Kelvin. On the thermal scope, it is one big foreboding pool of false color blackness.

I have to see this for myself.

The Hyperdrive locks onto the probes ephemeris data. A slew is calculated so that my ship doesn’t attempt to appear in the same vicinity as the departing probe.

I arrive at the same instant that my probe leaves. Two ships passing in the vast unforgiving night. The planet in question is a bright twinkling pinprick to my unaided eye, and a physics defying anomaly to the ship’s infrared scope.

“..have.. Good initiation. How copy?” The radio crackles to life. A voice, a human voice, faint but amplified, rings in my ears. The first human voice I have heard since I left the Stuttgart.

I’m hesitant to respond, as one of the first things the Belters drill into your head is to maintain radio silence unless you are absolutely sure that there is absolutely nobody in your light-second sphere of space that might opt to reply with a gigawatt laser or swarm of nuclear tipped kinetic kill vehicles.

After hearing that voice, I’m not quite sure about anything. The Belters sure as hell don’t come here, and they have the gold standard monopoly on the Hyperdrive.

The ship’s passive direction finder obediently points out the source of the signal - somewhere in high orbit. The AI doesn’t bother waiting for my shit-flinging primate intellect to give the next order, and begins scanning all likely trajectories around the planet.

Three hours later, the ship concludes that there is no foreign vessel. The threat condition drops, and the doors finally open. I race to use the bathroom.

The radio remains silent.

There’s nothing else of interest to report. Ice covers the planet, nearly two meters thick at the equator, with pools of liquid oxygen and nitrogen boiling beneath a blackened sky. In the days I’ve spent here, I’ve noticed the temperature climb slightly. At this rate, it might be all melted in another decade.

I record my findings in detail, and leave. There is still more to explore.

>>17744098
Requested: lighter
(red?)?

>>17744171
lighter wordplay? sorry - kinda new to /lit

What do you want me to say?

G-E-T--F-U-C-K-E-D-STOP

I'll say part of my premise but not the whole thing I don't want faggots to steal it.
>Girl who has gone through a traumatic early childhood and had a traumatic experience before becoming a teen. She has a guy that she quickly fell in love with who punches her one day near a fountain at the local park. She is then in a dream state that she is aware of but can do nothing to change her surroundings. Her subconscious mind then talks to her like a god, he is personified as a pretentious asshole with the right intentions. A bunch of fucked up surrealist tasks is all the main character must now go through.

Hadley gave an exasperated sigh as he turned slowly, tapping his foot and begrudgingly admiring the grandiose vista. While very impressive, it implied a very unsettling datum into his equation. A problem which he mentally wrestled with for some time before he finally spoke.

"I do not see a bomb, gentlemen."

"Wha..?"

"Before you speak any further, I will concede that there could still be a bomb out there. But given the upper yield limits of all varieties of bombs, I cannot physically see one of the size or proximity to affect us. Even if a fairly sizable thermonuclear device detonated, it would be virtually undetectable. You might just happen to wander upon a large blackened spot somewhere on the far side of the disc. But by that time, you will have probably forgotten our entire conversation."

"But there may be larger bombs. And I assure you Mr. Uh.."

"Hadley."

"Mr. Hadley, that we will not easily forget this impending threat to our shareholder interests!"

"Yes.. Of course," Hadley purred. "There could always be a 'Quark Express' matter conversion bomb, a 'Whirling Dervish' micro-singularity pair, 'Star in a Jar' collapsed subspace fold, a 'Damn-it-all' strangelet, which is pretty similar to the 'Quark Express' but works a bit differently. Either way.. you know."

Hadley made a raspberry noise with his lips as he clapped his hands together, which, as most bomb experts would agree, is a fairly apt description of what happens when high-energy physicists win defense contracts.

Peterson looked as if he were going to be sick. "Why, Mr. Hadley, those sound absolutely.."

"Terrible?" Hadley asked hopefully.

"It will give me nightmares until the day I die," Peterson managed as solemnly as possible.

"Oh, I agree. Dreadful isn't it?" The slight glimmer of a genuine smile crept across Hadley's face.

"It seems that you harbor an almost unhealthy obsession with these devices, Mr. Hadley," Stockton observed.

"Obsession is for the rank and file amateur, sir. And you would be mistaken to conclude that I have made the study and development of bombs to be my life. Rather, I should say with no pretense of humility, that quite a lot of bombs owe their lives to me."

"The bombs have lives, Mr. Hadley?"

"Only when they are falling, Mr. Peterson."

Pynch I'm getting fucking blacked here

F-LISHED

He's trying to think, again;.. sold all his oil too early on...

>>17742358
1880, an American rancher in the northern midwest gets killed and his house ransacked. His ranger son and his civil war vet best friend travel to the frontier of Alaska to track down his killer in an oddysey-like journey.

>>17745197
Big if factual

Not a plot but here's a poem I been working on

When the sun go down its the magic hour
The magic hour
And outta all the colors that are still up the skies
You got green on your mind
I can see it in your eyes
Why you standing there with your face screwed up?
Don't leave while your hot that's how Mase screwed up
Throwing shit around, the whole place screwed up
Maybe I should call Mase so that he could pray for us
I hit the Jamaican spot, at the bar, take a seat
I ordered the jerk, she said, "You are what you eat"
You see I always loved your sense of humor
But tonight you should have seen how quiet the room was
The Lyor Cohen or Dior Homme that's Dior Homme not Dior homie
The crib Scarface couldn't be more Tony
You love me for me could you be more phony