Recent comments in /f/WritingPrompts

NeVMiku t1_ixh3lzi wrote

I mean, surely if we're going that far, each human has way more life count than a petri dish, considering all the bacteria in our intestines alone would be enough.

Are we going by the largest consciousness within a specified area?

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gandalf171 t1_ixh31y0 wrote

Maybe it works by trading lifetime for lifetime on a cell by cell basis, so if a human sacrifices a day they take a day off every cell in their body to give to new cells in the injured. The power scaling wouldn't quit work out for the rejuvenation at the end, but bacterial cells are a lot smaller than human cells, so it would give you something in the same order of magnitude at least and would have some internal logic

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not_fucking_okay OP t1_ixh18td wrote

I rummage through the countless loose papers, all carelessly discarded into a large drawer, muttering a selection of my finest curses under my breath. I pull out a single paper, hoping that it is the correct document. My eye falls on the date, and I stuff it back into the drawer with agitation.

"The new accountant had fucking be better than..." my sentence bluntly cuts off when I turn around to see a skinny young man comfortably leaning against the desk. He's clearly been watching me with deep interest for quite a while.

The amazement must be plastered across my face. What is this...not-so-very-average lad, whom I clearly recognize, doing in the Rhythm Perfect Accounting offices - more specifically, what is he doing here, in the workspace?

I take his eagerly held out hand.

"Hey, nice to meet you. You gotta be the boss man 'round here? I'm Steve. Steve Cayman." he enthusiastically presents himself.

I shake his hand and introduce myself as formally as I can manage, under the circumstances.

Steve Cayman. The latest addition to Rhythm Perfect Accounting - his position? The new accountant.

His motive?

Murder.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Comment/vote if you want a Part 2! Don't forget to drop your thoughts over there too!

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Ikhtionikos t1_ixh00ki wrote

The ‘air’ shimmered as I waved my hand, specks of plasma swirled in its wake, clearing a field from the existential debris that littered it. It settled, remaining clear in the middle, the specks orbiting and forming an ethereal frame around the clearing. Color filled the area, the shadow of an arrival. I decided to focus on the process.

Not that I particularly cared. Countless arrivals came and went all the time, without my direct supervision. Most of them just passing by, using the Backstage as shortcut, not knowing that they passed through nHere when they teleported. Nor the others, who towards their
 - focusss -clear the thoughts!

This one was different. Not special, not through his own nature. The circumstances were exceptional. So yes, I did care in what state he arrived. After all, I summoned him. He was my... not immolation, nor consecrate
 shall I say token, perhaps? The colored blots expanded and materialized; the gradient patterns started to set. A shape was on the brink of discernable. The shape of a man. His silhouette filled the contours. His features grew more features as the oscillating wavelengths grew in amplitude. The erratic frequency of the surface tensions was still drawing out the finer details. A pair of lights flickered: soul lit up in his eyes. His mouth opened as soon as it took shape and molded into wildly peculiar elliptical shapes. He was swearing, I knew by now.

“Daemon Clays, in my presence. Welcome to nWhere” -I announced, allowing from that moment for sound to exist. “Shall we assume that you were greeting me.” Sound ended there again, as I uttered the commanding line. This was meant to set and keep the tone. Neutral. As I am. Impassable. Eternal.

“Why am I here?” -he asked, as I ‘opened’ the voice for him. Irritation vibrated in that tonality. Fading echoes of his previous curses still quivered on the edge of perception, then dissipated. I ‘closed’ his sounds again, leaving only mine.

“How you mean? The terms of our enterprise are known to you.” -I finished once more with null, in order to avoid his scrutiny. I was sure he would try to hear a hidden resonance, to find meaning besides those carried by words. He, as all humans, would try to gauge my mood. It's only natural for them, but I have no such. They even presume to prescribe me attribute. I'm cruel, they say, and unforgiving, and capricious. Whereas none of these apply to me. I’m as close to neutral and objective as one could get. I am, however, curious to some extent, and appreciative of impressive feats.

The man rubbed his face, tracing echoing traces of matter-memory. The arrival was still not complete. This means the drawn-out incertitude of his corporeal presence is taking its toll in his senses. His tone was now closer to a neutral, as I allowed the voice on him again. I've explained this many times, that for the sake of all, it’s best he tries to keep it such.

“I mean why am I here now, why did you call on me?” -asked Daemon.

“Because you’re dying, Mr. Grayes.” His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. I’ve startled him. He was visibly shaking, his eyes rolling around the nWhere surrounding him.

“Regulate yourself, Grayes, and DON’T invoke my Father’s Name” -the interdiction boomed on all my voices filling the Void with a concurrent roll of echoes. It worked though, the name he was about to mouth, remained wordless.

“Forgive me, I meant no offense” -said Daemon, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I’ll try to keep it cool, as you like it.”

“It is not a matter of preference. It’s the physis of the Liminal, and its imperatives are categorical.”

“Sure
 But whaddya mean I’m dying? Is this it?!” His fear was understandable. He knew what others don’t. He was in the Liminal. The place you pass on your way out of the living world.

“No, not yet. Your brother still lives, and by our contract, your death cannot precede his demise. Which is why I brought you here, where time is still.” Damien’s eyes darted away from time to time, as a passer-by whizzed through the Backstage, but he focused back at me, with expectative gaze.

“Earlier, when you scuffled with the priests? That bullet did not pierce skin nor flesh but did its damage on the inside. There’s no way to bandage that
 but to pour dawha brandy on it? Might as well have drunk some liquid fire. All it did though was to kill the pain, as your blood blossomed through the lesion.” I reached out towards him, my hand extending into his chest. He remained as still as one can be. I took out the wound and tossed it aside. It broke up and evaporated as a flame that runs out of wick.

“I might keep you alive, but you too need to guard yourself.” The blood from my hand dissolved away as I flexed it in a burst of dark light. He nodded and was quiet for a moment.

“So this is your realm, right? I’m not dreaming, fainted into stupor?” -asked he, while he patted himself, checking for inexistent orifices in his chest. “I’m here, where you
 live, or
 reside?”

“Indeed. In the Liminal, the Limbo, Backstage, or ‘OntheOtherSide’. My realm, my exile, and my home nWhere I once was born.” I tried to list off only those phrases that he could understand.

“Wait, you were born?!” -he immediately raised his hands to show his self-awareness and to regulate his emotional energy.

“As all things are. But that is a long debate which would eat the life of a praying, book-learned hermit. Time permits us not. You lingered enough between worlds.’ – I raised my hand again, this time to start sending him back.

“Wait, please. One more query.” Eagerness still betrayed his passive voice. I granted him the chance to speak with a nod of my brow. “If I
 if my brother dies
 will I then
 how long till I’m next?”

“Your brother owes me a death. Every man does. But he threw me yours instead. I traded your life of current, so that you will bring me his. What is to come after, remains to be seen.”

“Well then, I thank you for the allowance, lord Death.” With no more protests on his part, I resume the expedition. Raised my hand again, draw a circle opposite to before, and the orbiting frame started to fall apart in a messy pour. Inside the clearing, his image started to desaturate and go opaque.

“Make haste, Damien.” -I call out before his presence was interrupted from nHere. The debris from before lost all intentional pattern of order, resuming its initial chaotic swirl. I looked after him as he came to it in the world of the living. He was no longer nHere, but I could see him while he was not yet nThere either. I allowed myself a chuckle.

The rules of the Limbo were not as rigid as I make them out to be. I do prefer to command a decorum in my own realm, and it’s no mortal’s business whether the rules span from my desire or form somewhere else. I looked around and rested my gaze on the long line of the newly dead. They marched single-mindedly towards their destination. Towards in their own dimensions of bliss or damnation reserved for them by their respective divinities.

No one noticed me, nor looked around. Nor should they. I may be Death, but I don’t take their lives, per se. My job is just to oversee the passing, away and through. No one ever looks around. No one observes the transitory spaces of the living world. Except Damien. He did so once, long before. He was lost. Lost in grief. Forgot it since that he has already peeked Backstage. Which is why I noticed him too, when his death was wrongly offered up in lieu of his brothers.
I did not accept that trade. Because I must admit, he is special.

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the_turt t1_ixgwj2m wrote

1 million seconds is 11 days, and I dont think each one is worth 1 second. Also, unless you plan on actually shitting bricks, I wouldn't suggest killing your gut bacteria.

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TheBastardOlomouc t1_ixgv5z7 wrote

−17

ImmaRussian t1_ixgtypb wrote

The Council of Magi looked on with all of the rapt interest a cow should have for a priceless tome of spells.

The experiment was going to fail. Obviously nothing could match the potency of soul provided by a human life; to attempt a sacrifice with greater beings might actually be worth their time, but they had no idea why they had been summoned by one of the world's most famous witches to witness an experiment involving such tiny, meaningless lives.

"We fail to see why, if you felt it necessary to attempt this waste of time, you would not attempt it with organisms of a greater nature... Perhaps dogs, or horses. But... Since you are still a member of the order in good standing, and your other Natural Magic experiments have been promising, we will at least let you perform this experiment even though it cannot possibly have any visible effect, even if your theory is correct. Please proceed."

Malvina ignored the petty tirade and continued setting up her experiment. She had a series of glass apparatus in the middle of a circle of power, set up on a red cloth on a table, in the middle of a large stone courtroom. "Now, I'd like to take some time today and demonstrate to you all what I've determined through a combination of rational analysis and communing with nature. Cells. They make up all that we are. All that every living thing is. You cannot see them, but I assure you they exist. And that their lives are weighty in the world of magic. I do not know exactly how weighty, but I estimate between a thousandth and a hundredth of a soulweight of a human. I've set up a row of candles here, and a circle here, containing a culture of thousands and thousands of cells."

She gestured at the mysterious glass circles inside the circle of power; "When I pour this acid into this plate, the effect will be to the cells as fire is to humans, meaning they will become sacrifices for the circle. And their power will be directed to heat and flame, and used to light one or more of these candles; my estimate is that it will light 4, but it's possible it will light all ten!"

"Yes, very good, proceed." A voice called out from the bench.

Malvina poured the vial of acid.

KABOOOOOOOM

The experiment was vaporized.

The Council of Magi was vaporized.

The castle in which the court lay was vaporized, stone and all.

The city surrounding was vaporized.

The Hearthwold plains were vaporized.

​

As a Magister turned towards his class, he said "Fortunately the experiment was recorded in a second location thousands of miles away, as was tradition in case the worst happened. Of course, nobody could have guessed that this would be the experiment where the worst finally occurred, but because the details were recorded elsewhere, the surviving magic users knew what not to do in order to avoid the fate of the empire's Capitol Primae. And that is how we learned that not only do cells have a weight of soul equal to a human, for sacrificial purposes at least, they are also much smaller than Malvina believed. There were not 'Thousands and thousands' sacrificed on that table, but millions."

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Duiker6v t1_ixgtrgc wrote

By the sounds of they are actually sacrificing the time they have left in this world

And after doing some researching a single bacteria cell lives approximately 12 hours

Now if there are millions if not billions of individual cells then yes in this world you could become immortal

Once immortality is achieved you could essentially become a GOD being able to take and give life

Heck with that much lifespan power whos to say you can't effectively resurrect the dead(to their previous living conditions) if their brain is still intact.

Sorry for bad punctuation im not quite a writer

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techno156 t1_ixgt7w5 wrote

>I wonder why they couldn’t just sacrifice individual cells if it works like that. How does the power scaling work here? Is it one second of bacteria equals one second of human life? Millions of bacteria seconds would absolutely blow everything else out of proportion. (Which to be fair does seem to happen a bit, but not as much as I would expect if it was a 1:1 ratio)

Maybe they didn't think of it before, or thought that there was something special about an animal/human that powered the sacrifice?

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