Face Familiar written by Olga Fyra Gchlo’s cheekbones are humanlike: acute angles under the valleys of attentive black eyes. Nora Keizik never knows what exactly Gchlo’s looking at, it's as hard to tall as trying to count the rotations of a black glossy ball around its axis, and once again she feels that maintaining eye contact is difficult for her. But in moments like this, she reminds herself that it works both ways—Gchlo also sees in her eyes nothing but the colorful reflections of the serpentine lamps and reflexes of lights. It’s because their eyes are the same. “Would you like to see your home once again? See Yeller?” Keizik asks with sadness, that she doesn't have to fake. Asking the homeless about...
Glitch written by Pedro Lins Instagram: @rockemquadrinhos The deepest place of Hecate – name of a Chat-Bar that refers to a moon’s deep abyss, where the souls suffer and are punished for the things they did after becoming spiritual beings. “The deepest place of Hecate” is an almost decayed Chat-Bar that, nowadays, with a new pandemic ravaging the Ancient Mother (Earth), survived underhand after the curfew. Stinky from ragged tobacco smoke and past due motor oil served to automatons that should be offline, but, for some reason, rebelled against their standard, were also where people composted, mostly, of flesh and bones – alive, yet not so much; human, although not much – met after a match to meet physically. In person, well, at least at...
Diamonds and Dust written by Grzegorz W. Muskotumblr: @gwmusko In the taverns of the Abandoned Reach, human patrons are advised to keep their voices low and their presence scarce. Vrubel had planned to do so, but then the conversation turned to diamonds. “Just tell me, one more time, how big is this planet?” The Sovian turned his heads and sighed, draining his drinks before repeating, “about the size of the Earth-moon, give or take.” Vrubel leaned in, “and she lives there all by herself?” “Yes, I already told you,” the Sovian snapped, his three sets of needle teeth glinting in the bars blue light. “She’s lived there for god knows how long.” Vrubel felt the excited thumping of his heart and tried his...
Untitled written by Nicholas Woods With a red hot furnace for a face, Lewis gulped the last of his beer. He never let them sit long enough to lose any bit of their chill. The Miller light was still plenty cold in his mouth and it reminded him of his parent’s basement growing up, memories he quickly pushed away. He had come to the bar at the request of mark reluctantly. They had grown apart even though they’d never admit it to each other. Mark had always relied on Lewis and he felt the weight of that responsibility tugging at him when Mark lost his job last year. He got him a job trimming trees and had warned him not to...
Lost Contact - 2 written by Rob Bown Booting personal log: 12/10/3045 [2149] Personnel: Captain Thad Jannick It’s gone, it’s fucking gone. The HMS Protector collided with Epsilon-12 earlier. I watched it, I watched the destruction, I watched the death. All those people, they didn’t stand a chance. No time for lifeboats, too little warning...no time...no...time. Booting personal log: 13/10/3045 [1923] Personnel: Engineer Hyacinth Rakley We’re heading towards HQ. Epsilon-12 was destroyed and we got front row seats to the slaughter. We need to figure out what’s happening with the signal before more stations are lost. It’s not like the Protector could’ve done anything about it, they don’t have access to manual maneuvering, why would they? They’re kitted out for combat,...
