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Falljoydelux

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So uh...

6 min read
Little update with me: I am drawing and writing, just slowly and more for practice and review than for showing off. I am in a creative block, and I'm in an art class this semester, so a lot of drawing juice is going there. I'm managing, it just means I'm a bit silent here.

But hey! Have a weird story idea, that perhaps not all that realistically feasible, but still cool to wonder about, that came to mind:

Decades, centuries, generations upon generations from now, humanity's technology has expounded significantly. We are not truly spacefaring just yet, but we are on the brink of it. Earth has been our home for our entire known existence; it's known, it's boring. No, we want to see all the corners of space. But, we must try something before we can.

A large space station (more like a space terrarium) will orbit the Earth. It is gigantic, full of life. Plants of all kinds, animals of all kinds, housing for the humans, the best technology the world has to offer, hyper advanced neural network AI that will be the ship's main brain, a recycling system that is 99.999% efficient, an array of solar panels that are very hard to damage and has microsecond reaction time sensors to move out of the way of incoming debris, the works. It is designed to be a longstanding ecosystem all it's own, for thousands of years. It is built, it is launched, it is populated, all without complications. Things were going smoothly, for a few years at least. Until...

The space terrarium watched on helplessly as the Earth erupted in a massive war, and all too quickly, it stopped. Attempts to contact anyone on Earth failed, every possible channel was dead. The AI and crew came to the most logical conclusion; they were stranded. For the time being or for the rest of their lives, whether the people down below completely wiped themselves out or there were only a few left with technology fried, it didn't matter. The crew left to their rooms, and the AI sealed the coms bay away, but designating a small fraction of a percent of the power to permanently keep a distress signal on, sweeping every possible channel.

Decades passed, and truly if there were any humans left after all that, they died off, and knowledge of the orbiting terrarium was lost.

That's all ancient history. Prehistory, even, now.

The Earth healed, plants and animals coming back from the devastation. It took about a million years, but a new sapient creature arose.

Corvids

Evolution gave them a new body shape, nothing like the crows and ravens we know of today. They developed technology, steam powered, hydro powered, electric powered, a ghost of the technology used by a civilization they have only found the bones of. It doesn't take long for them to discover a signal, blasting strange tones and syllables, broadcasting from somewhere up in the sky. It always seems to follow the second moon as it goes around the planet.

They prepare to find the source

Like the moon landing famous in a time long gone, it is highly advanced and highly celebrated, pushing the limits of their technology. It is a risky mission, everyone knows that, but that's part of the charm. The day comes, and the ship launches into the sky, right in the path of the second moon.

Now, they long knew what it looked like on the outside due to telescopes, but nothing prepared them for what they saw when they approached closer. It was nothing like any technology they'd ever seen, but there was no denying this thing wasn't natural. Features that were unseen by their scopes were now visible, like the scrawls of some alien language written on the surface, the broad blue wings being made of several small components, and more.

A hole opened in the moon, startling the ship's crew. A light turned on inside the hole, practically beckoning them in. There was no time to contact mission control, the corvid crew deciding to change their trajectory just enough to slip inside the hole. It closed behind them.

Onboard sensors picked up that the vacuum outside was equalizing, and pumping out air that was breathable. Fully suiting up wasn't needed. The crew stepped out, just in time to see a smattering of wires sprout from the ceiling and dig into the ship. After a minute of panic, a voice announced from around them in the language they understood

"You have no idea how long it has been."

-----------

Uh, ok that was far longer than I thought it would be. Basically kind of a thought experiment on how creatures, humans included, would evolve if they were in a low or zero G environment, also inspired by System Shock and bits of other space horror games. This concept would also work as a horror game.

What happened to the flora and fauna on the terrarium? Honestly, I'm not 100% sure, since I don't know how known life would fare in such an environment, but I do have a few ideas
  1. For the human crew (about 200-250 people), they are no longer sapient. Truly animals once again
  2. Due to the low G environment, all animal species have gliding membranes
  3. The walls and ceiling are covered in plants (the ceiling not too thickly since they need the sunlight)
  4. There is a lot of cannibalism
  5. The onboard AI has become self aware, sapient, and superintelligent, practically gone rogue. But did not become insidious. They were revered as a god by the humans while they slowly lost their higher thought 
That's all I have right now, but there's destined to be more, since my brain is trash like that. But yeah, that's an update on what's going on with me, but mostly a random-ass story that I dunno if I'd ever do anything with. Oh well, here it is all the same
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Hello. It’s been a while. Been mostly lurking about, but I’m not posting anything. I have my reasons, don’t know if they’re good reasons but they’re the reasons I got.

Depression has been relentless lately. What else is new. I’m trying very hard to be creative, I really am, but man is it quite the uphill battle. New story ideas haven’t let up though, so now there’s even more of a backlog. Amazing. I do have a few new WIPs that I’ve started, at least. Dunno if they’ll ever be finished but hey I’m being creative!

Secondly, well... the main reason I’ve been having such a hard time is that I had to make a life altering decision that’s not looked at too fondly by my family. In fact it’s caused a fair bit of tension. It was hard, took months to work up the courage to do, and when I finally did it it took so much outta me that I’m still reeling from it.

I submitted my resignation to the LDS church

Why did I do it? Living in the church had become unbearable for someone like me, a filthy queer sinner. So much in the church does not look fondly upon people like me; the doctrine, the culture, the “things that aren’t doctrine but are considered to be anyway,” it all hurts the same. I don’t know if any of you are Mormon yourself or keep tabs on us, but the recent General Conference this last October had a scathing talk by Oaks that put queer people down in the fucking dirt. Being queer is equated to temptation, just suppress it and you’ll be fine. Guess what, suppressing being trans almost made me kill myself. That’s not a good environment to be in, so I did what I had to do.

And then there’s my parents’ reaction to such a thing, that’s also quite the factor. I’m not gonna go into detail on how they reacted, since I may start crying writing this out. Long story short, they showed their true colors and their true feelings. I now think less of them than I did before, which I didn’t think was possible but here we are. I could go on and on about how crappy my parents are, but this isn’t the time nor the place for that; that’s what therapy’s for.

So be patient with me please. I’m getting there, working through the knee high sludge that is my life currently, keeping my spirits up somewhat with Pokémon games and writing my stories. Some things will change around my page, like my language here. It won’t be overly vulgar, just some sprinkling of fuck or damn or shit whenever the emotion demands it. More realistic and relaying the emotion of the moment, I feel
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Since I'm still in the depths of being the most depressing creature to ever walk this earth, and thus have no art to show off anywhere, I thought why not tell people the new story idea I got floating around my headspace. Because I needed another one (I physically wrote down every story idea I have, with a brief synopsis on what each one is about, and I came to 17. 17. Seven-frikkin-teen stories I want to write/draw/some combo of both. My life span is not long enough for this.) And so, I present to you:

Warehouse 60

And what's this new thing about? I'm not entirely sure what the exact genre is, since I don't have a concrete plot down, just a beginning, a few scenarios I throw them in to test their character, and that's about it. I'm thinking sci-fi slice of life? I mean, we're dealing with me here, so there's definitely monsters. Monsters that are technically 100% human, but anything and everything but.

The main idea I have is a girl gets dragged out into a backwoods area with some old buildings no one's using in the middle of the night by her (jerkbag) boyfriend, his intent is to get some sexytimes, even if she doesn't want it. She fights hard against him, but he's stronger. He hears a screech, and sees a beast running and then leaping at him. He runs and drives away, leaving her to fend for herself. When she wakes up again, she's surrounded by new people, and upon closer inspection, these aren't entirely people. One has a tail, one is completely digitigrade, one is completely furry, another has a full set of arms sprouting from his back, and one is literally shaped like a Jurassic Park Velociraptor (this is the one that saved her). Of course she's scared but they're all helping her, and have no intentions of keeping her trapped here with them.

The reason all these people-that-aren't-fully-people exist is that there was a group of scientists that, upon successfully growing a fully functional human in a stasis chamber, wanted to see how far they could twist the human shape. They started off small; tails, different foot orientations, extra fully functional growths, etc. Then they started getting ambitious, replicating body shapes from other animals, extinct or otherwise. Of course, not everyone from these experiments lived; there used to be a lot more, and a good many of them died, both from being unhealthy to begin with, and from being experimented on after "birth."

After the scientists and what they were doing got found out, they were shut down (I haven't decided on what their fates are, but it won't be pretty) and their work all destroyed, including the successful experiments. At least, that was going to be the case, when one agent fought for their lives. "They can't control what they are or how they got here. Look at them, they're children! They can speak, communicate, learn, and understand. It would be murder!" And so he became the sole agent to make sure they're all healthy and well. He's the one that found them a place to live together, a warehouse out in the middle of nowhere where nobody would bother them, and all the essentials they need to live. They have food, water, plumbing, electricity, internet, and the oldest has a car and license to drive it. All because he fought for them to live. He cares for them all immensely, becoming somewhat of a surrogate father, even if he can't be around much, if at all.

I've got most of the characters, what they look like, and their personalities down, but as for plot, I don't have one. Anything plot related is right here. I think this is just another thing to distract me while I feel down, but I've characterized so much I don't want to not do anything with it. But dangit all I have 16 other storylines I wanna do! Oh well, here it is all the same, I guess
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So, uh, if anyone remembers my last upload, and how it was all about how I've been feeling about my identity, I've realized it wasn't just confined to that. My mental health has been slowly going down and down for several months, and I've now figured out why. The situation I was in, was abusive.

No, I wasn't beaten. My landlady has been making me feel like I'm 12 years old; yelling at me for crumbs on the table, for lights left on, that I didn't wipe down the stove after I was done boiling water, that I cleaned something wrong, etc etc. I have told her several times that some things are a product of me being autistic, and her response is "I've never lived with someone who was autistic," and would continue to disregard my boundaries. She would insist on how she was treating me was fair because she was the "owner of the house, and if I was living here I need to live up to her expectations." Sound familiar in any way? This has turned into a strange, twisted parent-child style relationship, where I was the disappointing failure of a child, and she was the disappointed mother. After talking to my parents, they told me I had to get out of it, like, as soon as possible. And I did, which is where I am now.

It's such a shame, she wasn't always like this. I know, it's practically cliche at this point; the abuser wasn't always abusive, yada yada yada. We used to have such an awesome relationship. She had hired me for her cleaning business, I was her first employee, and I stayed until she decided to close it. When I was looking for a new place to live, she offered one of her rooms, and that's where I was for the past year. We would go out to eat together, not in a dating sense, but just as a way to talk to one another. She gave me gifts on my birthday, and I reciprocated. She even got some info on a transgender youth support group!

There were signs she wasn't the nicest, and I can't believe I was so submissive and unconfrontational to ignore and/or write them off. What is wrong with me? I mean, I felt like I was walking on eggshells everywhere in that house. I didn't want to eat where she was, I didn't want to be seen by her ever, since I felt that there would be something she would get angry at me about. She would go into my room and say it stunk, and no matter what I did didn't make it stop stinking to her. One time she had asked me if we wanted to go out to eat later, and I agreed. When the time came to go, I was getting ready to get into her car, and she tells me I'm driving. I ask her why she didn't ask me to drive, and she says "would you have said yes?" "Well, yeah, most likely." "Then what difference does it make?" That's not the only time she would use the "what difference would it make" card. That was a red flag, that was a big red flag; not the biggest one in all my time with her, but quite the red flag. I can't believe I just ignored it and went along with it.

So, as for how any of this affects my presence here, I can't draw or write. If I get lucky, I have enough positive creative energy to push out a drawing or a doodle or some worldbuilding, but in all my months of feeling this way, I've pushed out two pages full of doodles, three digital drawings that took all my energy, and some character development for yet another plot bunny that decided to show itself. That's lacking, that's lacking real bad. But now that I'm out of that bad situation, I can focus on recovering, reorienting myself, and hopefully getting back on track with getting these stories pumped out. Just... be patient with me, please.
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I have to be honest with myself. I can’t keep up any comic, at least not consistently. My job takes all my energy, and when I get home I barely work up the spoons to get other stuff done. Hell, all I’ve got done of my Revamped Dark YouTubers series is getting the intro stills done. I have not worked a single bit on any of my comics, nor any of my writings, for weeks, turning very quickly into months.

And what’s worse? My rent just jumped 55 bucks. That’s putting a lot of pressure on me money wise, I can barely afford my bills as is. That means I have to find some other way to make money, either by working more hours or finding another job. I can barely handle the work load I have now, I have to fight really hard not to have a full blown overwhelmed-screaming session with the work I have now, and several times I have come very, very close to losing that battle.

I mean, I laid down on my bed hoping to watch the rest of Jack’s PMA SepticArt event video and then get up and eat something. That was... almost four hours ago. While I am really freaking hungry, I cannot move. All I can do is my little finger typing as I type this out on my phone.

I have to call this an official original stuff hiatus. I am going to try and build up some energy to do anything besides diddly squat. I am going to once again remind everyone I am always open to commissions, as I desperately need it right now, and that would probably be the only way I can motivate myself to create anything at the moment.

I’m just... so tired. So tired and I feel so hopeless. Why? Why is my brain chemistry this way? Why can’t I do all the things a normal person can? I want to cry, so badly, but I can’t. I try and try to get the tears going and they don’t come.
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