myfathersjournal

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So I Bought A Spaceship Episode 6: Not My Problem

Theringal rubbed his frontmost forelimbs against his compound eyes. By the greater celestials it was boring here. Gamma-B22 was at the cercus end of nowhere, visited only by the most debased freighters and fringe runners imaginable. The station itself probably wouldn’t be here at all if it hadn’t served the dual function of being a warning beacon to this end of the quarantine zone. Theringal contemplated the extra hazard pay he was receiving and decided that it wasn’t really enough to be worth dealing with the “regulars” and other trash that floated in. A red light flashed on his console and he scuttled over to press the corresponding button. 

“Acknowledging handshake, Station Gamma-B22 awaiting reply.” he buzzed, rotating his body slightly to bring the visual display into view. What he saw there was one of the ugliest xenosapiens he’d ever encountered. It was clearly some form of mammalian, although how big was always hard to judge via view screens. It was obviously suffering from one of the nastier parasitic lice such hairy creatures could contract as it lacked hair on almost its entire surface. Greater celestials, it was also bipedal. Theringal suppressed a shudder. Bipedal xenosapien always looked maimed to the multi-limbed insectoid, and none of them could grow back! 

Theringal was brought back from his horrified musings by the sound of the xenosapien speaking. This at least was pleasant, the creature had a lilting, almost musical sound to its speech patterns that brought some small amount of comfort to the startled insectoid. It was apparently pretty uncommon for this area too, as the omnitranslators took a few moments to interpret the solely auditory communications into something more understandable to his kind. When it did it was pretty obvious that whatever this thing was, it was lost.

“Um, hello? Uh, this is the captain of Stacy-”

“That’s not the name of the ship.”

“Then what is?”

“It doesn’t have one, you didn’t pick one yet.”

“Oh,” the xenosapient straightened up and looked directly into the recorder. “This is Captain Gemma of the Mechkitty II. I’m, uh, looking for some work? Kinda need some cash and don’t know where else to go.”

“You’re not allowed to talk next time.”

The xenosapient glared up at something, then glanced back at the camera. “Hey, why is this thing showing me a picture of a beetle?”

“That’s not a beetle, it’s one of The Multitude and it’s not a picture, it’s a live feed to the bridge controller.”

“Why isn’t it moving?”

“I would imagine it is likely the first time it has seen someone like you. I recommend wearing a visor next time.”

“Why?”

Theringal waved one of its forelimbs in a desperate attempt to get the stream of words to end. 

“Awww, look. It’s waving at us.”

“We have several freighter contracts available,” Theringal cut in before the tidal wave could wash over his small island of sanity, “two are bulk carrier orders, mostly base metals and halogens, and one info dump order.” The info dump order was a class 2 restricted contract, but he’d have given the horrible little biped the station's grav-teather if it made it go away faster.

“Captain, we currently do not have enough spare power for high weight cargos. Might I suggest the halogen or the info dump?”

“What’s an info dump?”

“Bulk data, FTL data transfer is prohibitively expensive so  most remote stations turn in sensor data via bulk shipments at regular intervals.”

“Ooo, let's do that one. Sounds like it’s important, and important is expensive.”

Theringal internally winced but began typing away at his console. Just get it done and get them gone.  He told himself. “Sending packet and payment chit data now.”

“Data received, ending transmission.”

“Hey, I’m the captain don’t-”

“Ending transmission” Theringal hit the communications button with indecent haste. After a few calming breaths and a short hymn to the greater celestials, he rotated to watch the ship depart on his long range scanner. When the dot finally disappeared into the void he bobbed his antenna and turned back to his paperwork. Maybe boring really was better.

Previous Episode

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Starship Episode 5: A Mouthful

Gemma glared at the little display on the vending machine, narrowing her eyes. Her fingers typed out another request which was almost immediately replaced by a red flashing error message. She tried another request.

“Captain, I have already told you  that the food synthesizers are currently running in emergency mode. They can only produce basic lipid, protein and carbohydrate rations.”

Gemma had seen the basic rations already and had no desire to repeat the experience. The basic carbohydrate ration had been a two inch by two inch block of compressed sawdust that crumbled almost immediately on contact with air and absorbed any moisture in the mouth like a sponge. The basic lipid ration was exactly that, a two inch cube of fat that was slimy and gross. About the only semi palatable one was the basic protein ration which had tasted like the world's saddest jerky. The machine flashed another error message and Gemma smacked the side of it. “I knoooow” she whined, setting her head on the console. “But can’t you do anything else? Can’t you, I don’t know, combine them into something more edible?”

“Unfortunately no, not until we get the food synthesizers repaired.”

Gemma looked up at the blank walls. She’d not been able to find any cameras or anything that Stacy could see her through, so she’d taken to just glaring at the most convenient spotl when talking to it. “Wait, I thought I got a certified pre-owned starship. Why is so much of it broken?” She kicked a riveted panel which gave a hollow gong noise. “The food synthesizer’s broken, the bridge is mostly duct taped over, hell even my “captains suite” looks like a damn capsule hotel room. What give?” She crossed her arms over her chest and picked a new spot to glare at. 

“the 45 point custom inspection, yes.” Stacy acknowledged. “This ship was tested by a Redd Herring and Son’s technician and passed.”

“How?”

“Are you dying from lack of oxygen?”

Gemma blinked, then glanced down at the spot she’d kicked. “Um, no?”

“Then the hull integrity, atmospheric recyclers, electrical and door seals pass inspection. Do you have adequate nutrition that is bioavailable for your species?”

Gemma glanced at the vending machine. “I guess…”

“Then food synthesizers and organic reclamators pass inspection.”

Gemma’s eyes wandered up to the ceiling and down the claustrophobic corridor of blank riveted metal. “This ship’s…smaller than it’s supposed to be, isn’t it?”

“The ship's external dimensions are somewhat obscured by recent minimal repair work, but I assure you its structure still fits within the laws of 3 dimensional space.”

“Oh you know what I mean Stacy!”

“Please don’t call me that, and yes. The internal space available to the crew is greatly diminished from original builder specifications. Extensive repair work will be needed to bring subsystems back online.”

“And I have to pay for that?”

“And you have to pay for that.”

“While paying off my debt for the ship too.”

“While paying off your debt for the ship too.”

Gemma let her head thump against the front of the vending machine again and groaned.

“I may have found a solution to your problem Captain.” 

Gemma’s head came up again, hope clearly playing across her face. “Yeah? What?”

“Maybe if you crumble the three rations together in a bowl you can make it more palatable.”

Previous Episode Next Episode

[myfathersjournal]

Baby Boss Monster Part 1: A Terrible Birth

It had died. It had left behind all it had known and loved far sooner than it had wanted to, but sickness rarely makes allowances for the plans of an individual. It had hurt, but it was over and now it was here. 

There was no light

There was no dark 

There was nothing but itself and its memories.

But that was enough. It existed in the void with its thoughts for it knew not how long. Eventually there was a pull. The first feeling it had experienced in unknowable lengths of time. 

And then it was here. Its head broke the surface of the sticky mud and it flailed towards more solid ground. It was filled with fear. Something bone deep was telling it to run. To run as far away as it could. Its, progenitor? Mother? Had done something bad, really bad, and it needed to get away before its mother was punished. It dug its tiny hands into the soft clay around the pool it had been born in and hauled, dragging itself finally on to firmer ground. It tried to stand and failed. Looking down it realized it had no legs, its body just ended about where its naval should be.

run

The word was weak, but full of pleading. It scrabbled on elbows and hands trying to get further, but the going was so slow.

fly

It became aware of a dim light over its shoulder. Looking back it saw long ethereal ribbons flowing out from its shoulders, swirling in a nonexistent current. They entertwined with one another and looked almost like wings. 

FLY

The word was stronger now, full of panic and fear. It gave the strange wings an experimental flap and found itself lifted unsteadily into the air. It had gotten about 100 meters out over solid ground when the air above it lit up with a blinding blue-white light. Far overhead something screamed across the sky, arcing over and down into the heart of the marsh behind it. 

I love you

The world went white and was filled with a noise so loud it was a physical force. Somewhere between an explosion and an immense bellow of pain, it picked the newly spawned creature up and threw it high into the air. Had it not been for the creature's wings, it would have died as it plummeted to earth. Instead it did its best to right itself and ride the shock wave, feeling the heat and pressure as it soared out and over the grasslands surrounding the marsh. When the force finally dissipated, the thing came down at the edge of a forest. It was battered, singed and exhausted. But it was once again alive. Slowly it pulled itself into the shade of the trees and passed out.

[myfathersjournal]

HELLOWEEN #17: CANCESTER

-CANCESTER DOESN'T DO SHIT-

...An excerpt from an early edition of the Last Testament, redacted from later printings. Perhaps a bit crude, with little value towards those scholars like myself who came in slightly late. But, I will admit, it is accurate.

Despite or perhaps because of their ancient status, records show they were mot one of the first, but of the second generation, this entity does; in fact; try to do as little as possible. I found them in a gargantuan beast after noticing their... unique records in the archives and attempting to cross-reference them, but was disappointed to find that they would not speak. They were simply content to sit there and breathe, occassionally chewing on the flesh of their uncaring host.

Their original name was wiped from the records, I suspect by their own hand, but their records show a long and bloody history of accomplishments beforehand, before it simply... stops. Furthermore, when I asked around about the beast, including Giobella, they were all stunned I had brought it up.

The beast, called Valkanna The Unbroken, was considered by many to be an impossible feat to even approach beyond my... general surreptitious means. And yet there they were within the very literal belly of the beast, feeding upon it.

One with a base knowlege of hellish politics might suspect sabotage within that degeneration. But, from all I could see, there was no evidence of that being planned in the records. The reaction to Cancestor's original form seemed to be more fear than hatred, the actions with which they built hell containing a long lists of what most people would call atrocities.

This is a hypothesis, but I wonder if they gained this form because they... simply gave up. They tired of the boredom of Hell's horrors and decided to leave for an easier existence. While it is not one I myself would personally choose, indeed I find it quite disquieting, but I understand it.

Though the archivist in me fumes at the lack of their original name...

-Xavier X. Xolomon , Monsterologist and Understudy to The Librarian Of Babel

------------------------------

When asking for ideas for demons, someone suggested a parasite one, and the rest followed from there! Not much more to say than that!

As per usual the whole descriptions, designs, ectcetera from this project are free to use as you see fit under a CC-BY 4.0 license so long as I; Thomas F. Johnson, am credited as their creator!

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Starship Episode 4: I Paid How Much?!

It was the Earth. The whole panoramic window of the bridge was filled with the massive bulk of the planet. Gemma had of course seen the grainy images sent back to the surface by satellites, but they hadn’t done justice to the absolute beauty of the sight. Clouds, made small by distance, scuttled across continents that themselves looked like nothing more than a children's sandbox. All she could do for a long moment was to stand and stare at it all. 

“It takes everyone like that. The first time they see it.”

“See what?” Gemma said only half listening to Stacy.

“Seeing their home planet from space.” Stacy’s monotone voice still somehow managed to convey a feeling of wistfulness in it. “It’s always something to watch. I’ve seen thousands of crewmembers come and go and even the hardest will take a  moment to stare. It must be something universal in organic life, but who knows?”

Gemma managed to tear her eyes away from the spectacle to look around the bridge. Despite lacking the claustrophobic feel of the rest of the ship, the bridge was still somehow cramped. Huge sections of what had likely been crew stations at one point were instead hidden behind more riveted metal panels. The effect this produced made the room feel less like a starship bridge, and more like a warehouse with a nice view. The only station not hidden behind paneling was on a raised dais in the center of the room. It consisted of a bulky chair with a five point harness built into the threadbare cushions and one small LED screen built into the right armrest. The whole thing looked like a cybernetic chicken egg to Gemma.

She sat in it. It was uncomfortable. “Soooo, now what Stacy?”

“I told you not to call me that”

“I don’t recall giving you a choice.” Gemma pushed off with a foot to see if the chair swiveled. It didn’t, which was disappointing.

“Once orientation is complete,” Stacy went on, apparently choosing to ignore Gemma’s remark for the moment. “ We should collect resources in the system before heading off to more civilized space. Fuel, and supplies for the food synthesizers are  dangerously  low and should be addressed before we leave.”      

Gemma nodded “Ok, where would we be heading to?”

“Gamma-B22. It’s the closest bulk shipping port that takes on freelance work. It’s not pretty, but it will help you get a jumpstart on paying back your debt.”

Gemma stopped trying to make the chair swivel. “My what?”

“Your debt, Captain.”

A holographic display appeared in the air in front of her displaying a number with far too many zeros.

“This ship did not come cheap.”

Previous Episode Next Episode

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Spaceship Episode 3: Introductions

The door slammed shut behind Gemma cutting her off from any intruders, as well as any source of light. Gemma was surrounded in a darkness so deep it left phantom motes of light swimming in her vision. Experimentally she blinked several times, but there was no discernible difference between her eyes being open or shut. She took two steps forward, tripped on an uneven part of the flooring and landed hard.

Red runner lights flicked on as Gemma rolled up and into a sitting position. "My apologies Captain. I felt it prudent for us to make our departure as soon as you were on board and forgot to turn on the interior lighting." It was the same synthesized voice from outside the ship, but now it emanated from some hidden speaker buried in the walls. "No, it's fine" Gemma said, more for something to say than because it actually was fine. "So uh, where are you?"

Gemma took stock of her surroundings as she got to her feet. The interior of the ship was exactly like the exterior, all riveted metal panels in various shades of gray. The hall she was in went more or less straight for some forty feet before connecting to a perpendicular hall that ran the length of the ship. In the dim red glow it all looked like the set of a budget sci fi horror movie.

"Where is not really a good question" the mysterious voice replied. "I am technically all around you, but my central core is near the bridge. I am the ship's onboard A.I. serial number STC11872."

Gemma furrowed her brow as she reached the T junction and picked a direction she thought the bridge might be in. "STC?Does that mean anything?"

"Standard Transit Core"

"Do you have a name?"

"No"

This hall really did run the full length of the ship. As Gemma walked she felt like the rough gray walls were closing in on her. How could a ship that looked so big on the outside be so claustrophobic on the inside? She began muttering under her breath. " STC…StC…Stick? Nah, St-C, St-Sea, Sta-Sea." She snapped her fingers. "Got it! Stacy!"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's your new name! STC, Stacy"

"I think not"

"I had a gerbil named Stacy when I was a kid"

Gemma reached the door at the end of the hall. Sensing her approach, the door slid open, and Gemma's eyes went wide

Previous Episode Next Episode

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[myfathersjournal]

Wednesday, October 11.

Wholesome Wednesdays™

The observant among you will have noticed that today is Wednesday. Those with a particularly discerning eye will have noted that Wednesday begins with a "W," that most winning and fluid of letters. It is this same letter that takes its place nestled at the start of the word wholesome. And all things wholesome is what today is all about.

It is a word conducive of many things, such as a general sense of well-being, an appreciation of the simple pleasures, the irresistibly cute and cuddly, a little patience, and a touch of innocence. It's a little elusive, something of a one-size-fits-all, but what's for sure is that you know it when you see it. Lo, seeth the hearty posts plucked from the dash and enjoyeth the contented sigh that follows. 

Ahh x

[myfathersjournal]

News From The Sump Issue 2

We are the broken. We are the lost. But let us never forget; we are.

The Scouring Continues

Today marks the final day of the scheduled scouring, however top side agents are still reported throughout the first three levels of the Sump. Municipal volunteers are monitoring the situation but have reported  that it is likely the scouring will continue beyond the projected end date. A call to action has been put out to any Sump residents who were not displaced by the scouring event to find it in them to assist the refugee population either with fresh water and/or food or a place to stay while we await the end of the scouring. Census records proved inadequate to prepare the municipal volunteers for the volume of those escaping the scouring and space within the refugee camps is very limited. Municipal volunteers have asked any in the camps with relatives who could take them in to please relocate to reduce the strain. Those that chose to will be given a day's rations in food and water to take with them. 

Feral Grandmother Kills 3 Wounds 7

An elderly woman (name withheld by request of family)lost her battle with feraling yesterday. The event took place while at home with her family, who were staying with her as a result of the scouring. Attempts were made to restrain her as several new bladed appendages emerged from her torso but efforts were mostly unsuccessful due to the appearance of these new limbs and the wounds causing family members to come into contact with her acidified blood. Name Withheld then escaped into the halls of Level H and was eventually brought down by feral hunters lead by Bulwark. Survivors of Name Withhelds attacks are being treated by municipal medics and are expected to make a recovery in time. 

News From Above

Municipal spies report that recently elected mayor Michal Thompson has continued to use the scouring as a post-election platform to maintain his current approval levels. “The filth that infects the heart of our great nation must be cleansed.” A newspaper article obtained by one municipal spie reads. “How must we look to the other city/states, gleaming on the outside while harboring a rotting heart just below the surface? It’s been too long friends, it’s been too long since we got the poison out of our veins.” Municipal volunteers will be holding a public meeting on Friday to address the concerns raised by the continued anti-Sump sentiments expressed by the top side mayor. 

Water From Heaven

In a silver lining moment for this week, prospectors in Level G have found a new source of clean water that could potentially alleviate some of the recent refugee distress. Said source appears to be a defunct water filtration system for an old chemical factory left abandoned some time in the distant past. While the filtration system is not currently operational, prospectors hope to get it running within the next few weeks if parts can be found or fabricated. If you would like to assist in the repair efforts the prospectors are setting up a public relations booth on Level E, address is EB4C25R442.

Classifieds

Wanted: Feral hunters

Destination: The Corrosion

Requirements: Own weapons, PPE(or resistance to toxic/radioactive chemicals),food

Pay: Negotiable upon inquiry, not to exceed 1 month's food rations and/or equivalent.

Location: JB6C33R424

Lost Child: Budling lost in Level E markets. 0.6 meters tall, pale white, round, five limbs (three motile, two grabbing), responds to Steven. Last seen by parent at clothes stall C-14. If found return to EB4C14R124

Expedition Planned: Group looking for experienced feral hunters, prospectors or scrappers to join an expedition into The Corrosion. Food will be provided by expedition, must bring own weapons. Inquire at: DB1C33R621

We Want YOU!

Municipal volunteer corps is looking for new members. Benefits include: access to Municipal bunk houses, weekly supply rations, training and prestige for future endeavors. Interested parties can inquire at FB3C2R1, just turn left at the staircase.  

[myfathersjournal]

Long Running Stories

So I Bought A Spaceship

-Episode 1: Beige Hell

-Episode 2: Prompt Delivery

-Episode 3: Introductions

-Episode 4: I Paid How Much?!

-Episode 5: A Mouthful

-Episode 6: Not My Problem

News From The Sump

- Issue 1 The Scouring is Upon Us

-Issue 2 The Scouring Continues

Baby Boss Monster

-Part 1: A Terrible Birth

[myfathersjournal]

Visible Mending

Introduction:

Visible mending is a decorative way to fix up an item. Instead of trying to make your mend as invisible as possible, the idea is to make it part of the garment's design.

Visual mending is not a single technique: it's more of a mindset. If you've got an item you love, it deserves to be mended, and if you're going to put that love into stitches, why not show them off?

That being said, there are some specific techniques that are popular with visible menders. Let's take a look!

Sashiko:

Sashiko is a type of traditional Japanese embroidery that is used to both decorate and reinforce fabric. In visible mending, sashiko is often used to cover up holes with patches or to reinforce thinning fabric. This technique uses a variation on the running stitch.

(Image source) [ID: sashiko stitch diagram: the distance between each stitch is 1/2 stitch in length.]

Some resources on sashiko:

SashiCo on YouTube: sashiko livestreams and information on the cultural aspect of sashiko.

Written tutorial by Upcycle Stitches.

Free sashiko templates by TheSpruceCrafts.

Fixing jeans with sashiko by Soluna Collective.

(Image source) [ID: three examples of sashiko embroidery on jeans fabric.]

(Image source) [ID: sashiko embroidery with white thread on blue jeans fabric.]

Embroidery:

Regular embroidery is also a popular technique to accentuate your mends. Check out my embroidery 101 post to learn how to get started. You can embroider patches, or use embroidery to hide or accentuate any stitches you've made to fix holes. Embroidery's also a great way to cover up stains.

(Image source) [ID: colourful embroidery floss covers a worn sleeve edge of a jeans jacket]

(Image source) [ID: colourful flower embroidery surrounds a hole in a pair of dark gray jeans. Fabric with a red and black flower print peaks out of the hole.]

Patches:

There are many ways to add patches to a garment. My tutorial on patches is a good place to start if you want to make custom-shaped patches to sew on top of your fabric. You can also sew your patch on the inside of your garment and have it peek out from beneath the hole you're trying to fix. Fun ideas for this are lace or superheroes.

(Image source) [ID: Spiderman peaking out of a rip in a pair of blue jeans.]

(Source) [ID: a red flannel heart-shaped elbow patch on a gray knitted sweater.]

Darning:

Darning is a technique used to repair holes in fabric by using running stitches to weave extra fabric over the hole as to fill it up again. While traditionally darning is done in an invisible way by using the same colour of thread as your fabric, you can also use contrasting colours to accentuate your fix. Check out this written tutorial on darning by TheSpruceCrafts.

(Image source) [ID: vintage instructions on how to darn a hole.]

(Image source) [ID: four examples of darning on blue fabric with colourful contrasting thread.]

Conclusion:

Visible mending is a creative way to fix up your clothes and give them some personality at the same time.

You should be proud of the fact that you took the time and learned the necessary skills needed to mend your clothes! Show off what you did!

A fun side effect of wearing these obvious mends is that people will notice them. They'll remember your fixes the next time they're faced with a hole in their wardrobe, and it will make them more likely to try it for themselves.

These are just a few ways to visibly mend your garments. Want more inspiration? Check out Pinterest or r/Visiblemending on Reddit.

[myfathersjournal]

LOOK at this embroidery

stitched by samsquatch1590 on reddit

pattern by NOMADembroideryCo on etsy

[myfathersjournal]

[myfathersjournal]

So I Bought A Starship Episode 2:  Prompt Delivery

Thank you for your purchase! Your transaction has been tagged to your genetic account and your shipment is inbound!

Time until shipment arrives: 15 minutes

Please get to an open, surface level area at your earliest convenience!

Gemma tried to close the window, but nothing responded to her frantic clicking. The slow descent of the countdown timer was the only proof the computer itself hadn't completely locked up. In desperation she held down the power button on the  face of the monitor and counted to ten. Abruptly the screen went black and the ever present faint humming of the fans disappeared. Gemma took a deep breath and pushed the power button again, crossing her fingers as she did so. The fans came back on first, then the screen flickered and she heard the click-clack of the PD lock cycling. After a few more weirdly melodic computer noises the desktop finished loading. The message was gone.

Gemma slumped back in her chair with relief. Maybe if she ignored what just happened, it would just go away and never be an issue in the future. She launched her spreadsheet software and pulled a binder off the shelf,  fully intending to get back to work and put this whole thing behind her. 

Fifteen minutes later, the building shook like a bomb had gone off. People ran to and fro as people tend to do in an emergency, with an equal number running to and from the source of the noise. Gemma would have gone with the group fleeing, but the uncomfortable memory of the message she’d ignored wouldn’t leave her alone. Reluctantly she ascended the stairs towards the roof. Someone, possibly a floor manager, was making a spirited attempt to keep people off the roof. It was largely unsuccessful. Arthurus Public Accounting was a large company, and it did not encourage its employees to wander the building or talk to each other. So whatever authority the person had was only recognized by his immediate underlings. Everyone else just pushed right past him, including Gemma. 

What met her eyes as she got through the door to the roof was, well it wasn’t what she had expected. It was big, that was certain. Its width took up most of the roof in that direction and it was so long it hung over the edges of the building, buckling the safety fencing and crumbling the waist high walls just behind that.  To Gemma, it looked like nothing more than a scifi brick, bulky and covered in harsh angles. one end was thicker than the other, presumably where the engines were, but that end hung out into open air and was beyond inspecting. The other end tapered somewhat but not enough to give it much in the way of aerodynamics.

The intervening space was a flat gray expanse of riveted panels with no defined doors or points of entry. People had ranged out along the available length of the ship experimentally poking at panels hoping to find some way in. Stepping up to join in the fun, Gemma was stopped in her tracks as a hitherto unnoticed hatch slipped back revealing a glittering red lens. Everyone stopped to stare at it, and Gemma got the uncomfortable feeling that it was watching her.

“GEMMA MADISON” a synthesized voice suddenly boomed out across the roof. Those that knew her shot quizzical glances in her direction. Unable to think of anything better to do, Gemma cleared her throat and called back to the ship, “Um, yes?”

“DELIVERY HAS BEEN MADE FOR YOUR PREOWNED STARSHIP. PLEASE DESIGNATE WHICH OF THESE INDIVIDUALS ARE PART OF YOUR CREW AND I WILL GENESCAN THEM OF ENTRY.”

More raised eyebrows and looks her way. Gemma began to feel that she needed to get out of her as fast as she could before anyone started asking too many questions. She took a few steps towards the spaceship. “Um, none of them are. I don’t have a crew”.

“ACKNOWLEDGED, PLEASE BE AWARE THAT WHILE MOST FUNCTIONS CAN BE COMPLETED BY ONBOARD AI, SYSTEMS ARE OPERATING AT ONLY 2%. I RECOMMEND REPAIRS AND THE ONBOARDING OF CREW.” There were definitely hungry looks in the crowd now. Gemma was sure she wasn’t the only corporate drone that had dreamed of something better. She needed to get off this roof now, before she got swarmed. Without warning she broke into the best run she could manage in high heels, taking off towards the red lens. She wasn’t sure there was a door there, but it was the only thing she’d seen move and it wasn’t like she had any better options. 

“Ship! Open the door!” She yelled. A much larger section of the wall immediately under the lense slid away and she dove for it. Several other people who were closer to it than her also went for the opening. Any who tried were shot with a red beam from the laser and fell to the ground twitching and screaming. Before she could fully process what had happened to them she was already in the air and hit the deck plates just inside the door. The door slammed shut behind cutting her off from any intruders, as well as any source of light.    

Previous Episode

Next Episode

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Part 1 | Part 2

Please enjoy this cute sapphic comic about accidentally adopting a werewolf from the pound based on this post. (Except I made it gay.) Meet Sabine and Jazz as they fall in loooove.

If you enjoyed please consider donating to my Kofi! Comics are a labor of love and tips really really help me out while I'm in school!

[myfathersjournal]

Part 1 | Part 2

Please enjoy this cute sapphic comic about accidentally adopting a werewolf from the pound based on this post. (Except I made it gay.) Meet Sabine and Jazz as they fall in loooove.

If you enjoyed please consider donating to my Kofi! Comics are a labor of love and tips really really help me out while I'm in school!