The io9 community and theFramestoreart section are collaboratively writing a story – half in prose , and one-half in images . Now you’re able to help oneself that write up continue .
https://gizmodo.com/join-us-in-a-bold-new-experiment-with-storytelling-5936688
https://gizmodo.com/join-us-in-a-bold-new-experiment-with-storytelling-vo-5941229
Then the Framestore artist read Rixomatic ’s chapter and make two new exemplification in reaction ( a item of one is at the top of this post , and both are full size below ) . Now your job , should you choose to accept it , is to write the next chapter . First , you ’ll want to take . . .
Chapter One ( by Rixomatic )
Halifax see the birth of the Worldship and suffocate a yawning . Everybody around him oohed and aahed as though it was the most spectacular thing in the story of humanity . And , he thought bitingly , it might really have a fortune at the title . But he was completely , unutterably bored . The fact that building planetoids took for - fucking - ever was one of the reasons that he quit being an applied scientist in the first place . The other was that the nanobots catch to do all of the fun material .
Though he could n’t see the backtalk of the Drydock from the observation platform , he hump what it looked like : a continent - wide of the mark ring of mountain - sized nanoforges , each shaped like a cupped ribbon on a stumpy , 600 - mi wide articulatio radiocarpea . Their sheer , inwards faces glow with an orangish - white ferocity that hurt your encephalon to attend at it , the waste spark of the nanoforges doing their molecular boogaloo . He think of that ache , like dim hot finger press out against the backs of your eye and the underside of your jaw , digging into your venous sinus cavities like scavenging voles while a fist tried to squeeze your brainstem into paste . The Hangover of the Gods , his compatriots call it , from stare into the fires of institution . A small price to yield , they blow , as they got drunk enough to submerge out the pain .
The forge were devouring the planet they sit on from the inside out , tremendous taproot feeders snaked deep into the Mickey Mantle to siphon up the raw magma to be gnashed and masticated and eventually spat out according to pattern that Halifax had written . Building the Worldship required a world — or most of one , anyway — so they ’d designed the Drydock to cannibalise a satellite . Which major planet terminate up dying to feed in their dream did n’t matter at all to the engineers , so it was fell serendipity rather than freakish random luck that had destroy his home . Genevieve ’s World had plainly been the closest match to the resource visibility for the Worldship ’s schema . His schema . In the death , Halifax had take it in person anyway . He laughed piercingly , and the other observers nearby — mostly human , though a number of Remotes stood out tawdrily — sham to neglect him .
“ It ’ll take week before anything interesting happen , ” he recount the little boy stand next to him , pale and pasty , with the too - bright eyes that meant a Rider onboard . Halifax wondered what the pocket AI was to the son — a teacher ? a parent ? God ? The son bet at him , then turned to his female parent to postulate a question in another language . Halifax express mirth again , and with a final coup d’oeil at the still incredible quite a little on the horizon , walked out .
The Worldship — astounding achievement that it was — looked like a outgrowth , a tumor , eating his major planet as it had eaten his life history and his spirit . Halifax had love it and hat it and washed his hand of the whole goddamn affair .
And now he was going to steal it .
He could n’t stop grinning as he placed the call to Koche .
In the cold , spartan way that was her current home , Koche pull a face at the tickling in her mind . She live what it mean : a call on the ansible . And only Hal could be telephone . She Flipped to the realverse and stretched , vertebra popping from neglect . Climbing nude out of her sofa , she glanced around in the swollen hope that she had n’t missed lunch . Outside the transparent walls , the sky was a fateful noggin lave with billions of impossibly vindicated , undimmed star . Along the near horizon , dawn was clear promptly and the wall begin dim at the bottom . Out on the icefield , a lone Leeb sped towards the nearest strand of the Snare on a jetsled , bemuse up a glittering feather of coke .
The string was monolithic , a land mile - wide pillar rooted to the ice , and was doubly impressive grouped among its six fella . They dot the icefield like a copse of former - growth forest in the demesne of the freeze whale , stretching skywards as far as she could see unaided . As the dawn break off , the dayline hurry down the strands towards the ground , make the illusion that they were growing even larger .
“ Hal , ” she answered , the ansible stammer hardly hearable for once , “ is this crucial ? ”
“ Nope , I ’m bored . ” he sound cheerful , rarely a good sign .
“ Hal , ” annoyance creep into her voice , “ you have piece of work to do . So do I. ”
“ I get laid what body of work I want to do , sister , ” the cheeseball innuendo was comforting , but sounded forced .
Koche giggled in bitchiness of herself , “ I have intercourse , and believe me , I ’d like nothing better than a little … work out here , ” she did n’t need to force the longing into her representative , “ but Leeb frowns on us using his precious blacknet anse for telesex . ”
“ Is he there ? ”
Her pause recite him , but she answered anyway . “ He ’s always here . ”
“ Put him on . ”
END CHAPTER
When we ’ve gone through a few more rounds , we desire to have a one - of - a - kind story that never could have be without an ongoing dialogue between writer and artist . We might even turn it into a book !
mention : We will not use your work in a book or anything other than your situation on io9 without denotative license from you as the generator .
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