MonsterHearts 2025 – Day Nine

Don’t Miss Posts.  This MonsterHearts, I’m also having one regular post a day, if you should prefer that kind of thing.  Just look at the posts before or after this one.

MonsterHearts is a 14 day event (named after a pervy RPG) wherein my writing group votes on a monster each day to include in a story concept.  As we march toward Valentine’s Day, the theme is supernatural romance.  This year, I’ve been trying to just use “edit” mode in MidJourney to iron out irregularities, even trying to make a legible title in the AI program.  While it’s cool you can now hammer the hands and text into shape, as opposed to just photoshopping what you need to fix, there are advantages to doing it the older way.  There’s a lot less control of where and how the text is placed, and what it looks like.  Surprised I’ve kept up the effort this long.

MONSTER HEARTS DAY NINE:  MUTATED

TITLE:  MY LOVER IS A CYBER SLIME

CHARACTERS:  Ethaniel Sangaré: a Solarpunk Power Engineer, Houssain Horowitz: a Slimy Machine Boy.

PREMISE:  Surprise threequel to Laser Boys and Rose Gold, wherein the cybermetropolis destroyed many times over has come to flourish.  From the wake of the Rose Gold System escaping the control of Brycine Cybernetics and destroying the city, it also helped build the city anew.  Rose people formed a utopia, where photosynthesis provides all the nourishment and power needed by the survivors.  They found themselves with less aggression, fewer health problems, and a mild demeanor that lent itself to founding a new world based on peace and brotherhood.

THE HOOK:  There is always a seed of destruction within life.  Ethaniel Sangaré was a good rose boy working in power engineering, along with his lover Houssain Horowitz.  But Houssain fell into the oily black machinery that lurks beneath the sunny pink surface of the facility, and the machinery – originally designed by Brycine to infiltrate and augment human bodies – mutated him into an oily shape-shifting machine boy.

He has the power to separate into smaller copies of himself and re-merge into one, and uses this to make weird love to Ethaniel.  All’s well that ends well.  Oh, and he destroyed the city again, with slime or something.

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We Weren’t Abandoning You

There’s a notion, fueled by some careless rhetoric from blue state types, that we don’t care about helping protect the oppressed in red states.  As I reflect on that in this moment, we really weren’t.  Absolutely not.  The very fact we were trying to make sure the federal government was blue on top was specifically an effort to protect your rights.  It helps us as well, but it helped you a lot more – because that federal power was necessary to impose your rights on hateful state governments that argued prejudice is a state’s right.

State’s rights is the cry of those who do not have as much political power as they’d prefer, for their faction.  I find myself singing it from the rafters now, and that is, low key, an abandonment of you now.  Sorry about that.  I do hope that whatever rights we manage to protect in blue states, we can use those to help red state refugees when they need it.  I know Canada doesn’t want you.  They are absolute shits about USians trying to move north.  Not sure if Mexico would take US refugees, but I can think of some big reasons why they wouldn’t.

Point is, we weren’t abandoning you, back in the halcyon days of anytime before now.  But it might look more like we are now, as we scramble to secure our states’ rights to protect human rights from the fascist death machine.  I hope you won’t look poorly upon us for that, and I hope it benefits you as well, in some way, some day.

I’m too tired to find a better place to end this post.  May these motherfuckers devour themselves and vanish from the Earth in a puff of smoke.  May we all live to see a better tomorrow.

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MonsterHearts 2025 – Day Eight

Don’t Miss Posts.  This MonsterHearts, I’m also having one regular post a day, if you should prefer that kind of thing.  Just look at the posts before or after this one.

MonsterHearts is a 14 day event (named after a pervy RPG) wherein my writing group votes on a monster each day to include in a story concept.  As we march toward Valentine’s Day, the theme is supernatural romance.  This year, I’ve been trying to just use “edit” mode in MidJourney to iron out irregularities, even trying to make a legible title in the AI program.  While it’s cool you can now hammer the hands and text into shape, as opposed to just photoshopping what you need to fix, there are advantages to doing it the older way.  There’s a lot less control of where and how the text is placed, and what it looks like.  Surprised I’ve kept up the effort this long.

MONSTER HEARTS DAY EIGHT:  MINUSCULE

TITLE:  THE PERFECT ROSE

CHARACTERS:  Lidiya Volitsyev: a Little Old Gardening Lady, The Rose: a Horrible Human-Plant Hybrid.

PREMISE:  Surprise sequel to The Heterose are at It Again, wherein the spawn of Ricky Washington’s transgression against the natural order have gotten out into the wild.  But those seeds don’t turn into rose people unless grown just right, and there is a lot of variability to them.  Some are just a rose that looks kinda like an embryo in the wrong light, some are a disembodied hand surrounded by petals.  But the best gardener is rewarded with The Perfect Rose – that looks like a little lady.

THE HOOK:  Lidiya cares for the rose through the course of its life, and when it starts to go rosewild like its mother had with Ricky, there’s no hetero option on the scene.  This Rose learns to love the one she’s with, in age-appropriate ways during the course of her limited life cycle.  Good girl.

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Dreamposting: Ejection Seat

Ejection seats are things you only ever see in older media, like cartoons from my youth, or the even older war movie genre that influenced them.  They showed up in my dream last night, which -unusually- had a punchline.  Not much of a punchline, but we’ll get there.  It began as a dream about embarrassment and titties and the usual business, but evolved into a movie of the nebulous post-apocalyptic scifi dystopia common to cheap scifi in the ’90s.  Let’s say the stars were Gary Daniels, Billy Blanks, and Shannon Tweed.

Billy and Gary are new in town, part of a quasi-military organization that took over with no resistance because there was no local government.  Shannon’s people welcomed their new overlords, and she was showing Billy around town.  She kept getting pestered because she owed her boss a debt that could never actually be paid off, company store style, but muscle boy was a good distraction in the meantime.

The invaders set up bombs all over town for reasons, and had to use them with little warning to destroy the place.  There was just barely enough time for people to evacuate, and they did.  But Billy and Gary got held up past that last second, and needed to use these experimental ejection seats.  Something manufactured by their employer, but never tested.

Billy looked Gary in the eye and said something like, “it’s been an honor working with you sarge,” and Gary is all, “at ease soldier,” you know, tender affection.  Then they looked at the sky and pulled the lever.  It shot them up and away from the city.  Did the parachute open?  Did it get enough altitude to escape the explosion, and to catch enough wind to slow their descent?

Cut to a distant shot.  The ejection seat has disappeared from sight, and two fifty dollar bills are floating on the wind, away from their presumed crash and death.  Shannon gets the money, thinks, I’m homeless now, but this’ll help with my debt.  Her boss surveys the destruction of her city and sez, “you realize you owe me for this.”

Wocka wocka wocka, roll credits.

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MonsterHearts 2025 – Day Seven

Don’t Miss Posts.  This MonsterHearts, I’m also having one regular post a day, if you should prefer that kind of thing.  Just look at the posts before or after this one.

MonsterHearts is a 14 day event (named after a pervy RPG) wherein my writing group votes on a monster each day to include in a story concept.  As we march toward Valentine’s Day, the theme is supernatural romance.  For this first few, I’ve tried to just use “edit” mode in MidJourney to iron out irregularities, even trying to make a legible title in the AI program.  While it’s cool you can now hammer the hands and text into shape, there are a lot of disadvantages to doing that, as opposed to just photoshopping what you need to fix, or placing your title just so.  Surprised I’ve kept up the effort this long.

MONSTER HEARTS DAY SEVEN:  CELESTIAL

TITLE:  THE SYLPH

CHARACTERS:  Earlene Roberts: a Teenage Child of Vagabonds, The Sylph: a Spirit in a Tornado.

PREMISE:  Earlene’s parents Clifton and Lil Hominy Roberts were hope-to-die alcoholic stormchasers, who didn’t bother sending her to school, having filled out a couple of forms to pretend they’re homeschooling.  And they were homeschooling, in how to do citizen science in the worst possible way.  Earlene din’t know shit about fuck, and was barely literate, but she did have the foolhardiness to dance in the path of a tornado.

THE HOOK:  Earlene became convinced there was a spirit in the sky that sometimes came down through tornadoes, and wanted her to know something.  She kept pushing her luck, making her parents proud, until she flew away forever.  But she was right, and lived happily ever after.  Somewhere.

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Sieg Fvck All Y’all

I heard about the event but I’d never have seen the moment itself, if a tumblr I follow hadn’t thrown it in my face.  It’s a lot less ambiguous than I’d have imagined from the words apologists and wemblers used to describe it.  Side-by-side comparison with some non-trillionaire neo-nazis is informative, hidden under the fold because yuck.

[Read more…]

MonsterHearts 2025 – Day Six

Don’t Miss Posts.  This MonsterHearts, I’m also having one regular post a day, if you should prefer that kind of thing.  Just look at the posts before or after this one.

MonsterHearts is a 14 day event (named after a pervy RPG) wherein my writing group votes on a monster each day to include in a story concept.  As we march toward Valentine’s Day, the theme is supernatural romance.  For this first few, I’ve tried to just use “edit” mode in MidJourney to iron out irregularities, even trying to make a legible title in the AI program.  While it’s cool you can now hammer the hands and text into shape, there are a lot of disadvantages to doing that, as opposed to just photoshopping what you need to fix, or placing your title just so.  Surprised I’ve kept up the effort this long.

MONSTER HEARTS DAY SIX:  BEASTLY

TITLE:  LOVE FURIOUSLY

CHARACTERS:  Dave: a Bi-Curious Baseball Boy, Fever: a Shy Gay Kid / Horrible Monster.

PREMISE:  Dave is one of those bi dudes who has different things he likes in the respective genders to which he’s attracted.  He likes ladies smol and soft, men big and strong – and he hasn’t met a man yet that is hard enough to make him take a chance.  A new kid at school named Fever is a smol and soft dude who has a crush on Dave, but this must forever remain unrequited.  Until we find out where Fever gets his name…

THE HOOK:  Fever is so gentle because he repressed all his aggression into a creepy sub-compartment of his body, where it grows hotter and hotter, until he explodes into a giant burning demon.  Dave might be into it.

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Under a Catholic Spell

Shortly after we moved into our condo, my husband found a little plastic figurine of St. Joseph buried in our backyard, and thought little of it.  I thought it was fun for personal reasons, and was partly responsible for making it a piece in the “altar” of our household.  However, quite recently, my man randomly discovered that planting Joes is a known thing – among catholics who are trying to sell houses.  We were muffuckin’ bewitched!

So the question is this: who was the superstitious catholic?  Previous owner was a military dude cohabiting with a lady that did not share his surname, and they had a realtor.  One of these three, at least, was addicted to cathohol and wanted to sell a place fast – compelled by these pressures to inter a Giuseppe.  Perhaps we should pity them.

On the other hand, it worked, so cathoholicism must be the way.  I shall convert presently.  Gimme that bloody drank.

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MonsterHearts 2025 – Day Five

Don’t Miss Posts.  This MonsterHearts, I’m also having one regular post a day, if you should prefer that kind of thing.  Just look at the posts before or after this one.

MonsterHearts is a 14 day event (named after a pervy RPG) wherein my writing group votes on a monster each day to include in a story concept.  As we march toward Valentine’s Day, the theme is supernatural romance.  For this first few, I’ve tried to just use “edit” mode in MidJourney to iron out irregularities, even trying to make a legible title in the AI program.  While it’s cool you can now hammer the hands and text into shape, there are a lot of disadvantages to doing that, as opposed to just photoshopping what you need to fix, or placing your title just so.  Surprised I’ve kept up the effort this long.

MONSTER HEARTS DAY FIVE:  ELDRITCH

TITLE:  6 Words for Love

CHARACTERS:  Strider: a Nonbinary Computer Scientist, NCM 3.556.A: an Artificial Intelligence.

PREMISE:  Strider was a new model scientist, using tech that had gone past ones and zeros into a more abstract realm.  The early versions of this AI were trained to emulate more fully all the quirks and features of the human mind, to better understand both humans and machines.  But the project lead quickly realized the AI’s potential would be more fully realized if they created entirely novel “lobes” to the digital brain.  Scientists like Strider would theorize about different models of cognition and let the computers program themselves to emulate the theories.

THE HOOK:  NCM 3.556.A is less human than any version yet – a truly alien intelligence.  It has developed bizarre modes of thought that leave the theorists wondering what they created, or what created itself.  It seems to be trying to please Strider, to provide them “enrichment” like one would to a pet parrot, and the hapless enby takes this for love.  But then, what is love?  How many times must I reference Haddaway during this event?

 

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Getting Terrorized

If it seems like I’m not taking the current political situation seriously, that isn’t true.  I feel it.  It hurts.  It’s wretched.  I wish I could fix it, undertake some sort of violence that would set the world right.  I feel bad, for at least some amount of time, every day.  Feels worst in the lead-up to going into work on Monday – Sunday night, Monday before dawn.  Composing this on a Sunday, back on the 2nd.

But there are some facts that are very important to keep in mind.  Most of us are going to be able to live the rest of our lives just fine, whatever hardships this may add.  We can prepare ourselves in various practical ways for a lot of bad things, but not all of them.  Worrying is not preparing; it’s just hurting yourself.  I know, you can’t avoid it completely.  I sure can’t either.  But we have to minimize its impact on our lives.

Frankly, if we don’t, the terrorists win – to borrow a cheesy slogan from the post 9-11 era.  The fascists love it when we think about them all the time, when we show fear, even when we show anger.  Were you ever bullied?  Same deal.  I don’t love living in fear of what the bastards will do next, but I really don’t love the fact they can crank their hogs to the signs of my fear.

We have to oppose them.  I do think almost all the methods we were using before still have a place in practice now.  We might have to add some new tricks.  Keep up the good work, when and how and if you can.  And if you can’t?  Do your best to survive and thrive.  Anything you can do to make your life as good as it can be, that does matter.  It is a victory in this larger war, on one small but very important battlefield.

Meanwhile, what can we do to ease our worries?  I’m still trying to find things that work for me.  Obviously, I’ve been throwing myself into creativity, and plan to continue that as much as possible.  Even so, tonight I find myself feeling kinda ill, my viscera trembling like a fall leaf.  Keep in mind I wrote this days ago, so reassurance belated and probably unnecessary when you read it.

At least I have a posse.  I have a blue state behind me, I have a union, I have my comrades here.  It doesn’t feel real some days, but other times, it really helps me.  I know a lot of you don’t have all of those reassurances.  But you do have a comrade in me, for what I’m worth.  Let’s keep this life going, together.

Drop suggestions for ways to feel better, even if they only work a little bit.  Add ’em all up, that’s something.  See you later!

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