Hey /lit/.
My first time ever posting anything I've written; I feel lit would be easier than elit, given the non-requirement for secks.
Forgive the prelude, it's just to give you an idea of where it is and recent plot history.
Feedback welcomed, I know my stuff may need work.

======================================
Prelude
======================================


It is the 24th century. The Human Empire has expanded over 120 solar systems with terra-compatible planets, and a further 30 solar systems rich in raw materials like metals. In addition to this, the Empire has a presence on a further 50 solar systems of both types.

It all began back in the 21st century; at about approximately 2056, perhaps earlier. During that time, World War 3 was in progress, so a lot of specifics are unknown; but what is evident, is that when the dust settled in 2058, another army had risen, and beaten all the other fighting nations. That army called itself “SyntheDyne Corporation”. Under the guise of enforcing peace, it systematically crushed each nation’s military, one by one. Over time, the Corporation grew to be an unrivalled global superpower, a megalithic jack-of-all-trades. And then, it did something unexpected. It stopped, and extended the hand of aid to every nation.
With each nation’s defenses in tatters, and governments in disarray, they had no choice but to accept the aid. Being bankrolled by SDC, with its seemingly endless resources and diverse production range, the world rebuilt itself anew; and all the time, nobody saw the whole picture. People saw parts, like evidence of major candidates on the take from SDC, to covert weapons deals which violated the weapons laws that SDC initially put into place; but nobody ever shared any of it, for fear of death.
SDC had an iron grip on the world, and nobody knew.

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Already posted this on 7chan /elit/, but since it's a nosex, it was suggested I post it here. Anyway, wrote this for a quick lit contest, first thing I've ever really put online.
___

The ship settled down onto the ground, silently falling into place. Richard pulled on his gloves; the 7 week journey was finally at an end. He had reached his destination of Gradean. The small planet had been discovered only a few months ago, so the government hadn’t even been able to send out scouts yet. Nobody knew much of what the planet held for mankind. All that the recon robot discovered before it was destroyed was that the planet had gravity similar enough to the earth that man could roam the planet. It’s atmosphere was also strong enough that the rays of the sun wouldn’t roast any human who lingered on the surface. This was the first planet discovered that had any hope of maintaining human life, and who would have known that it was floating at the edge of our solar system, just waiting to be found.
Richard snapped the lock down on his helmet. Until confirmed otherwise, the air was to be considered inhospitable to man. He hit a switch, and the ramp slowly lowered to the ground, settling lightly onto the undergrowth. Pacing down the ramp, Richard scanned the tree-filled horizon, looking for some hint of where he was. The guidance system on his cruiser really wasn’t as reliable as it should have been. His eyes caught on a lightly beaten path, revealing that there was at least one other creature here. Ignoring the possible dangers, the man started to wander down the path, hoping to find some indication of what he was supposed to be looking for.
He stopped, frowning, once again thinking back on how he was chosen for this mission. The commander had made it clear that he was chosen, not due to his excellence, but due to his lack of excellence, for he was far more expendable than most. He also lacked any close family that would mourn him if one of the dangers on this new frontier turned out to be too much. And the details were far too vague for his comfort. Essentially, he was to search for whatever might have destroyed this robot, and deem whether or not it could be a threat to set

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Okay, this is the first chapter to my first attempt at erotic lit.

I have two main questions: Does the repeated use of "The Boy, The Man, Etc. seem redundant? Do I need to name my characters earlier to avoid this?

also, is the language a bit too flowery? overly metaphoric?

I'm often told that my writing doesn't make any sense even if I was absolutely CERTAIN that I knew what I was talking about at the time of writing.

anway, without further ado; Bitter cold, blistering heat.

The boy sat between the two extremes, eyes lost in the fire before him. His shirt was torn, jacket lost in the blaze, blood from some unfelt wound dripped down his legs. He should be shouting, screaming at the injustice. Why had he lived? The fire drew his eyes like magnets; it had taken everything he had left and should be hated, should be loathed as the destroyer of everything that was his. But his eyes never left the grim pyre, and as much as he tried, he could not muster any emotion even with the object of his suffering clear at hand, with nothing to defend it. The burning mass in front of him shifted, became the car it once was and was again full of loud voices. They had been driving, fleeing from their apartment where not two days earlier, a normal family lived a normal life and nothing at all was amiss. Or so the boy had thought. In reality, normal was a facade, a horrible perversion of the reality of their lives. But again he was in the car, in the passengers seat, in the one place that didn't disintegrate when his mother had missed the turn. With his mind trying with every ounce of strength to reject the present, he was forced to see the past as if it were reality, a morbid matinee showing of every past failure and every small accomplishment that was now meaningless.
He saw the time in first grade when he had been praised by the teacher for winning a spelling bee. Why can't I just die now? He saw his Grandpa's funeral. I have nothing left. He saw the bloody scene at the apartment that he and his mother had returned to. That is gone now. He saw the frantic run back to the car, felt himself stub his foot in haste, then stumbling, c

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

So this is a story I wrote set in the Wasteland from Fallout. Fanfic is a pretty lame term but I suppose that is what it is.

Here goes...


PROGLUE.

'I'm bored.'

'Shut up, Clover, just shut the fuck up. If I you hadn't been so trigger happy you shot at everything in the wasteland you wouldn't have bent your primer and I wouldn't have to fix your gun in the first place.' Indigo looked up from the disassembled Assault rifle he had almost put back together. Under the flickering glow of an old Marlborough neon sign.

'But there's nothing to do.' Clover whined.

He sat up and regarded her with the indigo coloured eyes that had earned him his name. it was one he liked better than the other nickname which was thrown around mainly behind his back. "pretty boy" That was more due to his disarming good looks and white smile.
He had bought her six months ago from the Wasteland's famous lone wanderer from vault 101. "crazy in a fight, crazy in the sack and yours for the low price of only one thousand five hundred caps" he had said. To Indigo it had seemed like a bargain. Clover was 5"9 with a lithe body and a gorgeous face, high cheek bones, big brown eyes and a cute little nose. Yeah she had a haircut that looked like it was done by a mad robot with half her head shaved and the other half hanging down to her chin but it wasn't exactly easy to find a good barber in post Apocalyptia. What 101 had failed to mention was all that went away the moment she opened her mouth. Crazy alright, that was what she had driven him every day since. 'If you don't sit down and behave I'm going to sell you to Jericho.'

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Tell me what you guys think!


Who Doesn’t Live Under the Bridge Anymore?
In America when a child is being put down to bed, the common ritual is to read the child a story. Most of these stories are of magical fantasies that take places in the realms of the imagination with princesses, princes, knights, and trolls. Yes trolls, the everyday Shrek but instead of falling in love they live under a bridge, are hideous, and the scourge of the world. In the modern world these are not trolls, these are ogres. So then what is a troll? It doesn’t live under a bridge anymore. Trolls don’t have boils, jowl jaws, large feet, dumb brains, and they certainly aren’t short and squat. They have no established order in how they behave or what they do. They don’t demand tax to go over their bridge, through their swamp; trolls are totally self sufficient and only need one thing from others, a reaction, and what they get from this reaction is simple. Trolls do it for the lulz (lulz are the original lol). Trolls get this reaction through chaos, anarchy, and disrupting the established order of the online community.
The shift from the ugly troll to the technology savvy troll of today was not just a boom in the face of the world shift, it happened slowly over the course of the late 90’s and early 2000’s. Most of the trolling culture came about because of the advent of one 4chan.org. 4chan is an image board (forum or a site that relies on individual posts) online that is unknown to most but is the parent of many beloved sites such as failblog.org, photobomb.com, graphjam.org, and icanhascheezeburger.com. It has also spawned some knock off sites with different purposes some including 7chan.org and 3litchan.org. Within 4chan there are several separate forums/boards that cover many different and varying topics, /r/ is request, /wg/ is wallpapers general, and then /b/ is the random board. Being the random board means anything and everything winds up on /b/. This is where most of the trolling culture grew and flourished. What makes 4chan an excellent place for this is that everyone is Anonymous. Since everyone is Anonymous (Anon for short) inflammatory remarks are rampant in /b/ and most of 4chan

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Not sure how relevant this is to this board, but thought I would share. It's a story that's being told in (sort of?) real-time, using Twitter as the medium. Seems to be more sci-fi than anything. Starts as a kind of western-ish journey through "The Badlands" of the Southwestern United States some time in the future, and now (after like 9 months or something of their odyssey) the setting is a space station. There's one account for each of 4 characters and they all sort of.. interact, kind of:

http://twitter.com/Aikao
http://twitter.com/R_Formido
http://twitter.com/Doc_Elgin
http://twitter.com/Timor_Phobos

Well, this is the start of a story i have been writing (I'm a novice writer for the record) and would like a some feed back or criticism.

--------
04:00
Day 2 of the Vostan Civil War
Somewhere over the North Sea


The helicopter's rhythmic beating was all I could hear.

As I closed my eyes for the first time I could remember since I had entered the transport, they stung from the long since gone fumes of oil. I watched my hands shake, not from the cold, but from the gun, which I was torn from by two of the sailors among me. On my face, still frozen from the artic air, I could feel a tear. Was it the ash? Was I crying?

Perhaps...

I sat there, all I could think about were my /comrades,/ now resting on the Abyssal Plane.

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Why, hello /lit/! Here's a bit of playful nonsense that I've been thinking about for a little while now, titled "The True History of the Universe and All Humanity". I know it's rather bizarre, but just let me know what you think!

Rather than going into a long explanation about what the hell this is, I'm just going to begin with the story. It'll explain itself, I promise. Enjoy! :D



**********************************************
The True History of the Universe and All of Humanity

By Universal Grand Athenæum Senior Archivist
Kurtwyl Almønde Fundilvaar
**********************************************

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

The rules of the game are simple.
- You have 20min to write out anything, be it a poem, short story, snippet, etc.
- Once 20min have passed, you can finish your sentence and then post it "as is", allowing for a spellcheck if you need it.
Here's hoping it'll get a few people writing.

----------
Untitled
----------

I watched them enter the room, full of cool disposition and carelessness to the people around them. It didn’t matter who you were, or who they were, the two merely moved right through you as if they were spectres, as if you were spectres. Everything in the room was clear as glass; the people were as shallow as the mainstream media, easier to read than a novella on a lazy summer afternoon. I was tired of the same new aged fantasies that they claimed were the next best thing, my mind reeling at the thoughts of all the little things ignored and lost in the methods of their destruction. It was as if I had entered a state of self realization, of hyper sensation, a state in which blissful rapture was merely another coil to shed away and glutton ourselves with. An insatiable appetite of madness and cruelty took over me; I lusted for immortality so I could see these people turn to dust before my eyes. Turning my head back to the two that entered, I go to greet them and exchange the unnecessary pleasantries dictated upon us by ourselves, delighting in the futility of our waste of formalities on those who we’d rather see die with us than dine with us. However in their eyes I saw the same realization and methods of sanity that had just happened mere moments ago to me, and so I grinned and laughed as the man spoke. He seemed bewildered at my madness, thinking he was special in this regard, in his choice and style of delighting in the rarest facets of the broken mind. She gently touched his arm, the movement telling more to me, describing their intricacies and tactile reinforcements of reality, than the following conversation over what was overpriced and exotically named coffee. The joys of marketing and capitalism, delighting our crude palette with equally crude methods of seduction and temptation, much like a whore displaying her b

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.

Let me know if this is good, bad, meh, or whatnot. If I screw up terribly, I'll restart the thread, so be warned.

Cura Te Ipsum

Chapter 1

I never even saw the knife. The first sign that something had gone terribly wrong was the expression on Ashley’s face. My roommate had just said something in Spanish that I didn’t understand, and Ashley laughed, and turned around to respond. My first thought on seeing her face was that it was wrong for such a look of terror to be on such a pretty face, and then all thought left me, as the knife went into my chest. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t draw the breath. I felt like I was falling, and felt a dull impact on my side. I tried to keep my eyes open, but my brain was too overloaded on pain to see. And then, the pain… pulsed. It spiked, like I’d been stabbed again. In some distant corner of my head, the thought came together that the knife was in my heart… and it was still trying to beat. Everything faded to black as I lost consciousness.



Much to my surprise, I felt myself waking up. I wasn’t sure if I was somehow still alive, or in some afterlife, but I decided I might as well see what parts of me were working. I started with my toes, and ordered them to move. At first I couldn’t tell if my thoughts were making it that far down, but then I felt a definite toe-against-toe feeling; I wasn’t paralyzed!

I moved on to my feet, ordered them to wiggle around a bit, and after some effort, felt one foot against the other. I tried to get my legs to move, but they felt so heavy, and I gave upon them for a while, to work on my other parts. I tried moving my fingers around, and felt was seemed like… sheets. I never thought that heaven or hell would have… sheets. With that thought, I noticed a rather annoying repeating sound that reminded me of my alarm clock. My eyes opened, and I saw tiles. Ceiling tiles. Definitely hadn’t heard about demonic or heavenly ceiling tiles. I blinked my eyes some, just to make sure I could, and heard what sounded like a voice; a very nice sounding female voice. Something about, awake, miracles, I couldn’t quite tell, my

Message too long. Click here to view the full text.