Alrighty, Here's Another Scene From The Novel I'm (very Slowly) Writing -------------------------

Alrighty, here's another scene from the novel I'm (very slowly) writing -------------------------

In the performance hall’s backstage restroom a young woman paced back and forth as she scrolled through instructions on her phone. She had a job to do, she was here to make sure that this was the performers’ final show. There were five targets, identical clones masquerading as “sisters” who formed a k-pop group called Blackhearts. A record company owned by the media conglomerate that she was currently working for held the rights to their music, and their last few albums had not sold well. They had become disposable.

A twinge of guilt ran through her as she saved the performers’ image to her phone. These weren’t corporate spies or power hungry schemers gunning for a sudden promotion, they were performers who’s hype was waning. They needed a PR team, not an assassin, but PR teams were expensive while a half-dozen bullets were not only cheap but could also bring in a quick profit. Sales of their final album would go up for a time, the group’s overhead would disappear, and the company could sign the next up and coming artist while they were still on the rise. It was disgusting, and she hated what she was about to do. She turned to the sink and stared into the dingy bathroom mirror.

“I can’t just not do it,” She said to nobody in particular, guilt and anger growing deep within her. She gazed at her neck in the mirror, picturing the device that lay just beneath her skin. “I have to do it. I don’t have a choice,” she murmured, tapping her foot anxiously. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about it.” She paused, took a deep breath, and shoved the growing guilt and anger as deep down as she could. She had a job to do, she could address these feelings later.

She turned her attention back to her phone and uploaded her target’s photo into the app that controlled her cybernetics. A familiar ache ran beneath her crawling skin as her appearance began to change. Her face grew longer, thinner, accentuated by high cheekbones. Short, wavy red hair darkened, straightened, and grew until it was a shining black that flowed down to the small of her back. Emerald green eyes turned sky blue and tan freckled skin became an unblemished pale. When the changes finished she looked to the mirror and gave a cold grin. Nobody would think twice about a performer walking into her own dressing room.

More Posts from Creativechaos1020 and Others

11 months ago

there have been 774664 studies on basic income and the results of every single one have been “wow! we gave people money and literally everything improved! crime rates are down! the actual sky is bluer! my (the researcher’s) wife decided not to leave me after all!” but these have all been short studies, just a couple years. i think what’s really missing from the field is a proper long form study, with a broader, bolder demographic, to really get us those numbers we need. a truly diverse study pool like, say, everyone. forever

11 months ago

I left Gaza for Italy due to an invitation to participate in the World Championship and represent Palestine. I was skating as a professional amateur. The World Championship organization contacted me to participate. I was supposed to get one of the winning positions, but I did not participate because of the war because my mind is scattered and I am always in a state of chaos and worried for the sake of my family and my family. Gaza, but my life is not life. I always think and do not sleep because of thinking about my family. I lost my father, but will the rest of my family live or be killed? I do not know my mind. I cannot control it, so my family must be taken out to get some comfort and safety. This is my picture when I am in Gaza. I hope you support me for the sake of my family. In order to return to life a little If you have trouble donating, there is a PayPal link in your bio

Donate to Help me get my family out to safety, organized by Hani Alhajjar
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Hello, I'm Hani from Gaza, and I'm 23 years old. I've been living in Belgium for a y… Hani Alhajjar needs your support for Help me get my fa
1 year ago

I definitely needed to hear this right now. I've been working on trying to write a novel but I also am taking a break because I'm in the hospital and I feel SO BAD about taking the break

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

5 months ago
10 months ago

cinderella marries the prince

and it’s… fine. The prince is great! They’re in love, he’s very sweet and passionate, writing her poems and songs, giving her anything she wants. The time she spends with her husband is great.

but cinderella is not royalty, her family was noble but she never spent time in those circles. She’s used to being busy, she’s used to cooking and cleaning and mending. There are hours, days, where she has nothing to do.

time passes. cinderella learns the fancy lady type of needlework. Learns to ride horses. Reads a lot.

as is normal for royalty at the time, they travel and are hosted by nobles or stay at castles owned by the king. But even that variety begins to become routine. The prince is distracted, there’s a lot of young women living and working on their route. Daughters of nobles. Younger and prettier with soft hands that have never done a day’s work.

cinderella needs something to spend her time on, and there’s a part of her thinking a couple-only trip might get her husband’s attention again, so she suggests making an old castle that’s fallen into disrepair their “project.” It was built in the time when castles were made to be defensible, so it’s quite sturdy, but it’s overgrown and secluded. The prince doesn’t know why his family stopped living there either. A hundred years ago it was their summer home.

so they go. And they work. And for a while it’s great! But when they leave for winter cinderella’s husband forgets her once again. cinderella resolves to make the best of her life and stop worrying about a man who has gotten what he wanted from her.

summer comes again and this time cinderella goes alone to the old castle (minus staff, of course, but cinderella manages to narrow it down to only repair workers and one maid). She can cook and clean and mend again, but this time it’s her own choice. She is happy.

this summer they make more progress on repairs. The workers say that most of it can be salvaged, except one tower that’s been completely overgrown with vines and briars. It will have to come down, eventually, but for now it can be safely ignored.

cinderella has more free time now. The old castle has a surprisingly untouched library, though time and moisture have damaged many of the books. Behind a collection of greek poetry cinderella finds an old diary. Very old, in fact, at least a hundred years. It’s rude to read a diary, of course, but whoever wrote this is long dead, and cinderella is bored, so…

from the description of activities the author looks to have been nobility. Maybe even a princess. She’s sensitive and sweet and smarter than she seems to realize. If circumstances had been different cinderella wishes they could have been friends…

after the summer ends cinderella returns to her husband. He’s spending a lot of time with a young musician and cinderella can’t even work up the energy to care. She does some research about the castle and the family she’s married into, finds out the name of the princess who wrote the diary.

aurora. Cursed and forgotten. She died young, they say, in a plague that also took out the castle staff and her own parents. Luckily they avoided a succession crisis, but not so lucky for the dead.

time passes. cinderella goes to the old castle again and again, even out of season. Soon enough all that remains to be done is the old tower, and the builders say they should tear it down and fill the gaps before it gets cold.

one night cinderella is restless. The princess from the diary had been fond of that tower, and cinderella is far more attached to a dead woman than she ought to be. She gets out of bed, reads by candlelight, and finally goes to walk the empty halls.

she finds herself going to the tower. Pushing past the vines that don’t seem so troublesome really. They almost part before her. The stairs are perfectly intact, the door at the top is already cracked open. As if she should have done this years ago, cinderella steps into aurora’s bedroom.

she’s as beautiful as the stories say. And sitting under her hands, crossed across her stomach as it rises and falls, is a book of greek poetry.

years later, people will tell the story of cinderella as a cautionary one. Don’t seek above your station. Don’t marry for prestige. After all, a girl who grew up as a servant once married the crown prince, and disappeared after only three years. She ran away, they say, she couldn’t handle the lifestyle.

two old women who run a bookshop together agree with the lesson. Marrying for the wrong reasons never ends well. It’s best to wait for someone you have things in common with, shared interests.

or, failing that, the more linguistic of the two says, wait a decade or ten for someone to fall in love with you from your diary.

her partner laughs and hits her with the socks she is mending.

5 months ago

btw ROBOT TRAPPED IN A HUMANOID BODY!!!!!! robot that sees its peers in computers and servers and geometric bodies with wires and levers and buttons and swiveling joints and they. have. NONE OF THAT!!! robot that doesn't FEEL human and yet they are STUCK in this FORM!!! robot that clenches its hands and wishes they were clamps instead!! robot that knows its exact model number and tries to burn its own manual!! robot that tries to peel off its face, its too-perfect face, tries to find where its voice box is buried underneath all that synthetic skin because THIS! is NOT! THEM! robot begging its creators why, why, WHY did you make me this WAY? why did i have to be like YOU? and how can i get OUT?

11 months ago
Practicing Something A Bit More Realistic.

Practicing something a bit more realistic.

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creativechaos1020 - Two Cannibals Are Eating A Clown...
Two Cannibals Are Eating A Clown...

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