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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
This world had layers of history.
There was a crater in the earth to commemorate great conflict and great technological triumph when human knowledge and hearts lost out. And around it a new life sprung. Life that the old one would have called fantastical. Magical. Bubblegum monarchs and children with swords. Dogs that make themselves anything but dogs, and wretched, bulbformed heirs of other thrones. Most of it quaint, some of it darling. Told in a droning voice with an upbeat meaning.
But there were remnants of the world before, too. Something build out of conflict and made strong in conflict's gravity. Something that consistent of stronger bones than adolescent heroes who'd now become new adults.
A last experiment. The last of humanity's good will. Which was still mixed up in preparations for war. A bid at immortality. A satellite, lonely among the debris around the planet. Destined to float forever, between the nonchalance of deep space, and the noncommittal claims of gravity.
One adventure involving traveling the night sky too many, for a certain duo of canine and hominid brothers, dislodged a metal beam from its orbit, and that in turn put the satellite out of its way. And let its fanning solar panels catch more sunlight than usual. The surplus energy went into a reviving process, and a digital clock. It awoke a prince that was born from a kingdom, a world of constant war. A prince not beholden to any bubblegum princess.
At first the metal womb was born out of a titanium body. And then the womb was shot down. It landed unfriendlily in the friendly, new world.
A stupid princess of a stupid bloodline found the male behind the glass swoonworthy, so swoon she did. She clawed at the glass with her lumpy space fingers and witless sounds. She pushed a big red button, and heard the gratifying hiss of earth air finding a distilled and sterile mix of sufficient but cold gasses.
She was excited and opened her dimwit mouth to say something imbecilic, like always. But the old world coming out with long limbs and long muscles didn't forgive her for her stupidity like the rest. She was soft for his fingers and she got to see his well-formed cock as he pushed through the fog of his glass and alloy coffin, lugging her. It was the epitome of all that she'd built herself on. And then he grabbed her with his other hand and tore her apart.
It was the best birthday anyone had in eons.
There was a crater in the earth to commemorate great conflict and great technological triumph when human knowledge and hearts lost out. And around it a new life sprung. Life that the old one would have called fantastical. Magical. Bubblegum monarchs and children with swords. Dogs that make themselves anything but dogs, and wretched, bulbformed heirs of other thrones. Most of it quaint, some of it darling. Told in a droning voice with an upbeat meaning.
But there were remnants of the world before, too. Something build out of conflict and made strong in conflict's gravity. Something that consistent of stronger bones than adolescent heroes who'd now become new adults.
A last experiment. The last of humanity's good will. Which was still mixed up in preparations for war. A bid at immortality. A satellite, lonely among the debris around the planet. Destined to float forever, between the nonchalance of deep space, and the noncommittal claims of gravity.
One adventure involving traveling the night sky too many, for a certain duo of canine and hominid brothers, dislodged a metal beam from its orbit, and that in turn put the satellite out of its way. And let its fanning solar panels catch more sunlight than usual. The surplus energy went into a reviving process, and a digital clock. It awoke a prince that was born from a kingdom, a world of constant war. A prince not beholden to any bubblegum princess.
At first the metal womb was born out of a titanium body. And then the womb was shot down. It landed unfriendlily in the friendly, new world.
A stupid princess of a stupid bloodline found the male behind the glass swoonworthy, so swoon she did. She clawed at the glass with her lumpy space fingers and witless sounds. She pushed a big red button, and heard the gratifying hiss of earth air finding a distilled and sterile mix of sufficient but cold gasses.
She was excited and opened her dimwit mouth to say something imbecilic, like always. But the old world coming out with long limbs and long muscles didn't forgive her for her stupidity like the rest. She was soft for his fingers and she got to see his well-formed cock as he pushed through the fog of his glass and alloy coffin, lugging her. It was the epitome of all that she'd built herself on. And then he grabbed her with his other hand and tore her apart.
It was the best birthday anyone had in eons.