SNIPPY: evidence"Blasted mug!"SNIPPY: evidence3 years ago in Personal More Like This
I looked at it hatefully.
"This is all your fault!"
I attempted to throw the mug at the Arbitrator, to smash it, to let go of it.
Nothing of the sort was possible.
I flailed left and right. The mug did not budge. I could not let it go, no matter how hard I tried. It was as if it were glued to me with a strange static-like substance. It rolled between my fingers and from one hand to the other, but it was as if I were made of iron and the mug were a powerful rare-earth magnetic bearing coated with oil.
Why can't I let go of the mug?!
Did the Arbitrator's reconstruction of my organs have anything to do with this?
Upon giving up to prying the mug out of my hands, I turned to the Arbitrator and spoke.
I made my case calmly and clearly, pressuring various facts that my DNA couldn't possibly be on the mug and that I looked nothing like Captain and that it might as well scan my memories for evidence or something of that sort.
AMBER SNIPPY'S FATE?I've had that dream again.AMBER SNIPPY'S FATE?3 years ago in Personal More Like This
That strange place, so distant, yet so close to my heart. Buildings as tall as mountains.
Dead structures, watching with dead eyes. Empty, vast and endless honeycombs of stone and steel. Air filled with gray ashes, always fluttering from the cloudy sky.
The black vortex opens up in the sky, descending down to the city. The vortex spiral rips the city apart, bending the air itself, feasting on light, feasting on time.
There is a lonely figure standing in the street.
No matter how hard I try to make out his or her expression, I cannot. Is there no face there at all? Or perhaps there is a million human faces there, intertwined and flickering in unison, as bright as the light of ten thousand suns?
The being stares into the abyss of the vortex.
It takes another step towards it, into the horizon of nothingness, into a place where nothing can exist.
The stones of the roadway beneath its feet crumble and flutter in t
THE CHURCH OF GOOGLISMSTEP 1: The problem.THE CHURCH OF GOOGLISM3 years ago in Personal More Like This
You have a problem.
Don't tell me you don't have problems.
Everyone has problems.
Determine what your biggest problem is.
Don't have a big problem? Too scared to admit it?
You can start smaller- How about a small problem?
How about something that concerns/bothers/confuses you today/this week/recently?
Come up with a bunch of keywords that describe your problem.
STEP 2: Ask google for solution to your problem.
Google your question using ALL the possible keyword combinations that your problem relates to or has in it.
See if anyone already has a similar problem or has already resolved it.
Take 3 hours if you must.
Finding correct information can get tough, especially if it is obscure, hidden, answered incorrectly or has conflicting answers.
Answers without proper sources or evidence are generally incorrect and should be disregarded.
If there are too many conflicting solutions and opposing answers and you're not sure which is correct,
Use the principle of
BIOMATRIX 117: A TEN THOUSAND YEAR OLD ENIGMAtHeRE's SoMeThiNg iN tHe MoSt DisTanT MeMoRy Of PaSt SoMeThiNg ThaT DoeS Not BeLong, SoMeThiNg ThaT I mUsT ShOw tO ChaRleS SniPpy.BIOMATRIX 117: A TEN THOUSAND YEAR OLD ENIGMA3 years ago in Personal More Like This
CaN YoU GuESs WhaT iT iS?
SNIPPY: NO ESCAPE?How can I escape fromSNIPPY: NO ESCAPE?3 years ago in Personal More Like This
THE MONSTROUS ARBITRATOR that wants to lobotomize my brain because of my crimes as "CAPTAIN"?
RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 2/4)RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 2/4)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Characters: C. Snippy/Sniper & A. Gromov/Engineer & C. Hatchenson/Pilot
"It's time for pay back, bastards."
Chapter 2: Take Back
Stan strode around the room, checking the magazine of the rifle that he had stolen from Snippy earlier.
"Hehe... it's still full," he mentioned and deftly spun it around in his hand as if weighed only half of what it actually did. "Which means there's plenty of bullets for all of you. Isn't that great?"
With agile hands he shoved the magazine back in and readied the gun to shoot.
"The boss told me to kill your captain last. So... which of you two morons wants to die first?"
Engie shifted around nervously while Pilot kept throwing quick glances over to the chair.
"You look pretty scared, fatty," Stan chuckled and stared down at the engineer. "But don't worry, I'll make it quick for you."
As the rifle was pointed at him, Alexander yelped and huddled up against the wall in fright.
"Don't do this!" S
Charles Snippy: COFFEESENTRY: 412:Charles Snippy: COFFEES4 years ago in Personal More Like This
This evening, I returned to into the City to fill out the reports about my first tour out into the Dead Zone.
Hopefully, they won't suddenly shut down the D.Z.T.R. Department and there will be more tours for me to "guide".
Today... was different.
A buzzing, hovering Hunter-Drone met me in the Airlock.
Must be a new thing.
Ah I see,
As I'm forever unable to access ANNET, someone up top must have programmed this contraption to follow me around, shouting things at me.
Thank you, whoever you are.
I never felt more ridiculous.
To top things off, I lost my coffee.
RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 3/4)RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 3/4)3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Characters: C. Snippy/Sniper & A. Gromov/Engineer & C. Hatchenson/Pilot
"Our last hope."
Chapter 3: The Chain breaks
Engie, Snippy and Pilot were on their way out of the rundown electronics store that served as a strategically functional base for the hostile wastelanders who had robbed them.
After the three of them took their stuff back, the boss of the hostile group sent in his secret weapon a group of gunners, positioned all over the building and they didn't go easy on the small group at all.
Considering that Charles was the crew's only offense against the enemy force and that the other two carried heavy backpacks that slowed them down, they had made it surprisingly far already.
However, everyone's luck ends at some point and Snippy knew that he never had much to begin with.
After almost getting himself killed and ending up with a bad gash on his side, he couldn't afford to make any more wrong steps.
RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 1/4)RA: Part of a Chain (Chapter 1/4)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Characters: C. Snippy/Sniper & A. Gromov/Engineer & C. Hatchenson/Pilot
"We're all part of a chain. But sometimes, one part goes missing and a replacement is needed."
Chapter 1: Assault
In search of answers on the mysteries of Captain, Snippy warily snuck through the city, his target within sight. It was one of those days when Captain would decide to go on a long walk alone, then suddenly disappear and not return again until late in the evening. Nobody ever found out what he did or where he went. But this time, Snippy was following him imperceptibly.
Asking never revealed the answers to his questions, for Captain would feign ignorance and simply change the topic to pull his head out of the loop. So now Snippy was on a... discovery mission (which totally didn't count as stalking), close enough to keep the leader in vision and just distant enough to avoid being seen.
At the end of the street, the man in the gray wool
ENGIE: PROTOCOL 1-1-3Zee Captain's note of summons had sealed my fate.ENGIE: PROTOCOL 1-1-34 years ago in Personal More Like This
I felt a cold pull at my stomach. Something else was coming, re-awakened by the presence of Captain.
Something worse than the shuffling noises of the red beasts outside. The sound of falling cannonball.
Whatever that fleshy monstrosity was, it cared not for me, but it's presence here led ANNIE straight to me.
...And it came to pass on the morrow, that the goddess in the machine came upon me and she wanted vengeance.
She was online, the thermonuclear bombardment of the core databank cube had failed to shut her down.
She was still alive, after all these years.
The explosive crash-landing of the hunter machine through the old roof drew THEIR attention.
I was now between two wild beasts, out for my blood.
What was Protocol 1-1-3?
Memories of Directorate weapon codes lingered in my mind, poisoning my thought pattern.
Could it be?
...So this was to be my death.
ANNIE had let me know that she
RA: SolitudeRA: Solitude3 years ago in Horror More Like This
A/N: I've heard of many people who quit this story while only reading halfway through. Please consider reading it to the end, no matter what feels will try to hold you back. Trust me, you won't regret it.
Characters: C. Snippy/Sniper & A. Gromov/Engineer & C. Hatchenson/Pilot & Captain
"The little things are immensely significant in a story.
The subtle details that register in our subconscious first and trigger our emotions,
just to leave us feeling overwhelmed, are what make it unforgettable."
A sting in the shoulder and another in the side of his leg tiny but effective and the sniper lost sentience over his body and collapsed.
Swirling colors of dark red and orange morphed into the flames of a furious conflagration raging on around him as
Engie: awakeI felt scorching heat and vibrating pain.Engie: awake4 years ago in Personal More Like This
There was an endless buzz in my ears of massive shell-shock.
Crunching noise of the ground.
For a brief second I saw tiny mushrooms and flowers under me, but they quickly disintegrated into dust.
Impossible. Shock-Hallucinations. I haven't seen grass in so many years.
Crawl forward. Away. Away from the heat.
Farther. Come on Alex. Get up. Walk.
Something was wrong. I wasn't supposed to be alive.
...Ion Cannon interrupts all electronic impulses, no matter how small, effectively scrambling, disrupting all neural activity and shuts down the brain.
Sure, the walls of the little house protected me from the flames of ruptured atmosphere, but how is my mind still active?
Only one thing could have protected me. Something which could bend all known laws of physics at it pleased.
Could it be? The note?!
Could Seven's luck actually transfer onto others?
If this is true, then Seven could be the key to my
SNIPPY: QUESTIONABLE REALITYI definitely thought about killing Captain, especially after several pranks that were pulled on me like that time when I woke up with a bucket super-glued to my head and declared "iron man".SNIPPY: QUESTIONABLE REALITY3 years ago in Personal More Like This
Or that time when Captain made a soup out of my gas mask filters because the broth needed the "Smooth flavour of Snippy" and salt wasn't available... so I had to roam the decaying shopping malls for a new pair.
Or that time when Captain pushed me into a watery abyss inside a wooden barrel to celebrate "Niagara falls day".
Have my thoughts become so compounded as to finally cause schizophrenia?
...Am I a stone throw away from becoming like Pilot, talking to pet rocks and building the Bastion of Captania out of rotting shoe boxes?
And if I were to kill Captain who would I have left?
I must have been talking out loud like those crazy hobos that lived outside the protectorate dome that communicated with radioactive rain clouds via conversations of interpretive dance, until they were consumed by a famil
Charles snippy: TRANSFERENTRY: 377:Charles snippy: TRANSFER4 years ago in Personal More Like This
For several months of torture, the Directorate kept me in their offices, making me file paperwork on their "test subjects", all while I kept sending applications to the "Dead Zone tourism" branch, to get away from towering cubes of the Directorate, away from cities and transmitter towers that were slowly frying my brain.
Centuries of industrial pollution were inevitably changing the biosphere of our world and the Directorate knew it better than anyone, yet they did nothing to stop it, profit had to be maximized, production had to be increased, customers had to be satisfied. Holes in the ozone layer, irreversible changes in the atmosphere, radioactive fallout, wild-life mutations, the days growing darker and the sky turning black - none of this mattered to them.
These changes must have been so gradual that no single generation was able to protest it.
Everyone was happily, playfully, and joyfully ignoring the world outside o
Why are you here?In this journal.Why are you here?4 years ago in Personal More Like This
TELL ME ALL THE TRUTHS.
ASK SNIPPY: why are things on fire?YOU TOO CAN ASK SNIPPY QUESTIONS OF INTEREST HERE:ASK SNIPPY: why are things on fire?3 years ago in Personal More Like This
Snippy: the end of the worldThe living scarf twisted around my neck, flowing back and forth.Snippy: the end of the world3 years ago in Personal More Like This
My neurons tingled, misfiring.
Was it numbing the pain of being compressed into a hexagonal cocoon that pressed tighter and tighter?
No, it was showing me what it could see and feel, what my limited human vision could not.
The aggregate virus bore into my body, feasting on my cells, borrowing me to expand itself, yet it did not take over completely.
I was here, no I was out there, I was a hundred trillion cells and they were ALL suddenly under my control.
It seems that our relationship status has been upgraded from "master controller/slave drive" to an "unlicensed symbiosis".
The Biomatrix served as my new eyes, letting me peer through my own skin, bones, flesh and organs, through my fireproof jacket, through the web of intertwining lights that bound us in a stasis field, through the thick, crystalline walls of the Arbitrator's spacecraft.
My vision intensified, expandi
Charles Snippy: DreamsEntry 382:Charles Snippy: Dreams4 years ago in Personal More Like This
My personal online psychiatrist is making me narrate this nonsense down on the chip embedded in my tooth in hopes that someday I may be cured of my "incompatibility" with ANNET, or at least possibly reduce the "mild psychosis caused by work-related stress" as she calls it.
I know that it's not going to happen. The problem is something genetic and while those goons in the genetics department would love to get their machines into my brain, I prefer the lack of sleep and headaches to lobotomy.
I seen the reports on their test subjects: "total neural shut-down", "subject resists integration with the net, increasing the signal strength lead to damage to the 85% of the frontal lobe."
Call me old fashioned, but I like my brain the way it is.
I've had that day-dream again. Day-mare is more likely.
A flash-mare? Not sure what to call these, really.
The transmitter towers dotting this bloody city are making my life difficult, but not as difficult as the fact that everyone expects me t