Terminalite & Nekoqueen
Designation: the SERVER, TERMITE MOUND, TERMITE QUEEN, & STREAMER cillimorphs
Group: SEGMENTED
Native Biomes: CYBERSPACE & PLANET SCORCHER
Size: SMALL & MEDIUM
Interesting Facts: Massive colonies of Terminalites build and operate server mounds with incredible computing power, all to fuel their queen’s online gaming habits, since she has nothing to do all day but lay thousands of eggs.
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
prompt provided by swetankarmy
The cruise liner Seraphina had sunk more than a year ago. Its bow stuck out of the slimy sand at the bottom of the ocean like the jagged lid of a can pried open. Her contents had spilled out, settling into a swath next to her. Bacteria had come. Worms had come. Now the eels were enjoying their day in the accidental reef.
They came by the hundreds to hide and sleep in its shadows, but Seraphina provided them so much more. The eels hadn’t realized what living in the nearly lightless depths had done to their minds, with nothing to focus on, or to cherish, as it all simply drifted until it was buried. Now, here was something prolonged in burial and lively in construction. Eel minds experienced attention, new things to see beyond a dim horizon of marine snow. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
prompt provided by DarkLordofSheep
Normally, all the lamps around the frozen grounds would be ablaze. Now, only the ones inside the workshop were lit, and their flames seemed weak and frightened. December was upon them, the night near-permanent, but that had never stopped them before. This year, this Christmas, was different. Two claimed the sled as their own now; the second was on his way.
Riddles the elf was hard at work alongside his kin, tiny fingers slaving over the last of the toys, stitching manes into hobby horses with black marble eyes the size of quail eggs. His own eyes darted back to the wardrobe in the corner of the workshop. That was where Santa kept his cloaks, but he only wore one of them around this time of year: the red one. He clung to it now especially with that bloated specter on the horizon. Continue reading
This story takes place in our cillimorphs universe, the team of monster buddies and the broad strokes customized by Screamingecho over on our interactive fiction writing Twitch stream. Head on over there and give it a follow if you want a team and a story of your very own!
Skipper Eden’s Big Break
by
Blaine Arcade
Cheerleaders are always in the wrong place. Somebody keeps putting them on the field, during the game, when they really belong in the preamble, in the lockers and dressing rooms, motivating the people who aren’t quite sure if they can get themselves out there and perform their best. Luckily for Skipper Eden, he had five incredible cheerleaders with him before he even entered Club Nosering:
In his particular future, on his particular planet, along with the other habitable worlds and realms, it helps in most situations to have cillimorph friends. Skipper was a cillikeeper in addition to an announcer (he’s getting to the announcer part), so had plenty such friends. His cheerleaders were his closest. And they were, in random order, just the way cillimorphs like it, a Tictuttle, a Mudaub, an Egvelope, a Rimeroot, and a Puckerluck. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
prompt provided by pinkeyepoxy
Tiff’s tears pattered against the pile of metal debris. Tink tink tink. She tried to reach her hand in once more and came out with a fresh scratch on her forearm. Blood welled up. Rain joined her tears, filling the air with the sound. Tink tink tink tink tink. The broken husk of the hovercycle that topped the refuse was far too heavy for her to lift, and her arm certainly couldn’t stretch that far in.
“Why?” she asked the overflowing dump that was her next door neighbor. They lived in an illegal apartment, barely more than a room in a basement in a slum in one of the poorest super-cities in the world. At least it was one of the poorest according to all the E-zines that blew over from richer neighborhoods. Tiff’s place was currently encroached upon by a new surge of trash. Every day it inched closer to the window she used to crawl in and out of their home. Her boyfriend Masser could barely fit through, and risked hitting his head every time now. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
prompt provided by dark_lord3
Ding-in-ding! the tiny bell over the gas station door chimed. Sammy strolled in, confident in his ability to immediately sniff out any bags of Caliente Corners in the place. Corners was, in his opinion, the finest mass-produced brand of jalapeno cheese chips in their arid region. He sighed at the sight of the place; he wouldn’t be needing his skills after all.
There were plenty of shelves, but there was a snack shortage. Candy was in decent supply, as well as chips, jerky, gum, and plenty of miniature tubes of emergency toothpaste, but sometimes it was a single package of each brand. His eyes, trained to spot the right color of crinkly plastic, immediately singled out the sole remaining bag of sour cream Caliente Corners. Its green edge poked through the bottom of a shelf and hung there, like a person dangling from a tree branch. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
A Hardy Cheese Arrives in America
prompt provided by WolfChkin
The package arrived in the Sandwich District of Pastapolis with little fanfare, the bulk of which was three serving trays over, on Reuben Street. A local pride parade was in full swing. Sugar confetti rained down on the tray from apartment windows. Bacon flags in an assortment of colors flew from baguette floats, topped with the local dancing spread.
Everyone came out to celebrate their bread, lettuce, and cheese together. The LGBLT organization had arranged the whole thing and now flanked the floats, passing out garnishes. A barbecue chicken singer flung melodies and flecks of sauce the crowd’s way, giving shout-outs to all the finger sandwiches, beefcakes on weck, and Italian subs out there. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
Prompt provided by givemeallthecoffee
The secondary valve of the unit stuck out against the ocean floor like a sore pectoral fin. Its metal had rusted completely over the cycles, but it failed to blend in with the ivory Shotan corals or azure water-fans. The surrounding area was dense with invertebrates, all instinctively knowing to steer clear of metal. It had been bred into their pencil point brains by generations of deadly encounters.
Metal belonged to the Gurgeon, smartest creatures of this ocean, of this planet, and of this system. Their civilization was unchallenged in all directions by a third of a galaxy arm. Unchallenged by rivals at least. Continue reading
These stories were written live on stream based on prompts provided by the viewers. They have been edited, with this second more in-depth edit occurring much later, but not meaningfully rewritten or expanded so as to preserve the spirit of the exercise. Sadly, the prompts themselves were not recorded until many stories in. Sometimes the prompts were silly challenges, or quirky thoughts, or dark ideas, or utter nonsense. I did my best each time.
If you enjoy this, please check out the other activities from the stream. If you would like something longer and much more thoroughly planned, simply investigate my more traditional work at the top of the page.
Prompt provided by dark_lord3
The man seemed to misplace his name. All of a sudden he couldn’t remember it, although he remembered his situation just fine. He was currently traveling through time, strolling through it really, and observing the effect. The time tunnel was a pleasant light show, his mind having difficulty following it, what with the quantum confusion and all.
He recalled what he was doing before the time tunnel, just ten minutes ago, if minutes still existed. He was very devoted to his idea, having spent years getting everything arranged, those years now looking like nothing more than plastic bags over his shoulder. Time travel had eluded everyone else, but his idea was fresh. Continue reading
Author’s Note: This flash fiction story was written based on a prompt provided by Justintoonz during a livestream. I hereby transfer all story rights to them, with the caveat that it remain posted on this blog. If you would like your own story, stop by twitch.tv/blainearcade during one of my streams and I’ll write it for you live!
Prompt: “A thief finds a mask containing a snarky evil spirit inside.”
Thieving Tom Puts it Back
The book he’d stolen didn’t just contain many magic spells; it also helpfully told him about various artifacts worth stealing. He wasn’t even a thief until he’d found the book and been turned down as a customer. Really, why even shelve the thing if you weren’t going to sell it, Mr. decrepit old hermit in your very brown store that was more dust and earwigs than merchandise?
Ah, he realized in sinking despair, stolen mask in his lap, blood clot of consequences now freewheeling through his morale, because the book wanted to be stolen. It took itself out of storage. Same as this mask that won’t shut up. They all want to be active again. That’s what magic is: eager chaos. Continue reading
Blaine Arcade 