[x]

ENGIE: RegretsI was at first too stupid to see that we were no longer using ANNIE but Annie was using us.
She was a goddess in the machine, our search engine.
We used her to collect and share knowledge and in return she had started to use us as her processors. It was an unexpected transition and it took a long time, thus I failed to notice it, failed to stop it. The new organism had come to life in which we were only neuron cells of her massive mind, that spanned continents.
Humanity no longer had a chance to survive in it's current state. We had poisoned the oceans, we had scorched the earth and blackened the sky in our quest for power.
The world we knew was dying. I knew that this decade would be our last. The city would fall to the Zone, sooner or later.
Research notes from the last report of Charles Snippy terrified me greatly. They had found something horrid in the Dead Zone. Something that killed them all.
The Dead Zone Research and Tourism i

PILOT: A CAPTIVE AUDIENCEEVEN THOUGH I WASN'T BORN A "LITTLE GIRL IN A STRANGE AND FORGOTTEN COUNTRY FORMERLY KNOWN AS GERMANY" , AND I CAN'T MAGICALLY TRANSCEND SPACE-TIME, SOMEDAY I WANT TO GROW UP TO BE JUST LIKE CAPTAIN... FOR SURELY EVEN A MICRO-SECOND REALIZATION OF CAPTAIN-NESS WOULD MAKE ME ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE.
I WOULD SHARE THE DOGMAS OF CAPTAINIA WITH ALL PEOPLES OF ALL COLORS, BUT MY ONLY CAPTIVE AUDIENCE IS SNIPPY AND EVEN WORSE, HE IS ONLY CAPTIVE BECAUSE I TIED HIM TO A COUCH WHILE HE SLEPT AND HE REFUSES TO BELIEVE IN CHURCH OF CAPTAIN BECAUSE HE CALLS HIMSELF "ATHEIST".
SUCH DIRTY WORDS HE SPEAKS. I COVERED KITTY-HAWK'S EARS. NOBODY SHOULD GROW UP TO BE LIKE SNIPPY.
JUST LOOK WHERE HE IS - TIED TO A COUCH AND YELLING OBSCENITIES.
SNIPPY SHOUTS THAT CAPTAIN IS "TROLLING YOU AND MAKING STUFF UP"
CAPTAIN LIVES NOT UNDER BRIDGES, I TELL SNIPPY.
I KNOW THINGS.
SECRET THINGS, THAT THIS SLUG IS UNAWARE OF. TROUBLESOME THINGS THAT CAPTAIN SHARED WITH

Pilot: SHOEDEAR SHOE,
THAT'S RIGHT YOU ARE A SHOE.
THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT NOT BEING A SHOE BECAUSE IN MY MIND YOU ARE ONE AND THAT IS MOST UNFORTUNATE.
AS LONG AS I HAVE YOU CONCEPTUALIZED AS A SHOE IN MY IMAGINATION YOU SHALL REMAIN AS SUCH.
THIS MAKES ME WONDER WHETHER ALL PEOPLES AND OBJECTS CAN BE CONCEPTUALIZED AS SHOES AND THUS BECOME SUCH, GRANTING ME ABSOLUTE POWER OVER THEM. DOES SNIPPY HAVE A CLEVER ARGUMENT? NO HE DOESN'T, HE'S A SHOE. SHOES CAN'T HAVE CLEVER ARGUMENTS.
I FEEL LIKE THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD HAS BEEN LIFTED OFF MY SHOULDERS NOW THAT EVERYTHING IS UNDER MY CONTROL, NOW THAT YOU ARE ALL SHOES. I NO LONGER HAVE TO ANSWER TO MY REGRETS AND PAST MISTAKES BECAUSE THEY ARE SIMPLY SHOES.
I WAS EVEN ABLE TO PAINT PHOTOSHOP IN PURPLE COLOR (TO PLEASE CAPTAIN) AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN PUT UP A PROPER FIGHT BECAUSE I IMAGINED HER AS A SHOE.
MAYBE I CAN IMAGINE THE

SNIPPY: ON THE ROAD TO...September something something.
Sadly this chip is only good for recording and not for playback.
I've definitely long lost track of time, traveling with Captain from one part of the city to another.
It's probably not even September, but most likely October. Anyway it doesn't really matter, because it's always cold thanks to nuclear winter and it's always either snowing or "ashening" with rare instances of sunlight breaking through the thick, gloomy, black clouds overhead.
I've made many mistakes in my past, and I don't have much to look forward in the future, but yet I keep living for some reason, even if that reason is captain's continuous entertainment.
Everyday before I fall asleep I think of what horrible things the captain will do tomorrow. This week the bastard kept dressing me up in ridiculous outfits and giving me new "personalities to play". Where does one find the time to dig up costumes? Yesterday I woke up all dressed up like an old lady a

Charles Snippy: DreamsEntry 382:
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

SNIPPY: REMEMBERANCES OF THE PAST DAYOctober something, something.
Today captain declared as "REMEMBERANCES OF THE PAST DAY".
The day begun with me getting smacked with a broken laptop and yells "YOU'VE GOT MAIL!".
I tried to protest that laptops weren't attacking people in the mornings back in the past. To this, Captain declared that in fact they didn't have to, because users were so addicted to reading their daily mail facts that every morning they woke up smacking their heads on their laptops.
Then my head was treated to a barrage of empty, metal SPAM cans with words "SPAM MAIL! DODGE THE SPAM! USE FILTERS!".
With these words, captain gave me two old tennis rackets. The tennis rackets had yellow duck-tape stickers on them with words "DELETE" and "BLOCK EMAIL ADDRESS".
The spam can attack didn't end there, Pilot's job for today was hiding behind building ruins and throwing the spam cans at me at random intervals with yells of "INCREASE YOUR GENITAL SIZE!", "RUSSIAN BRIDE LOVES YOU" and "I AM NIGERIAN PRINCE WITH 56 BILL

SNIPPY: BIOGRAPHICAL DATA 001ENTRY 9997:
To anyone who finds these memory cards,
and the messages left within...
My name is Charles Snippy. I am probably the last sane human being left on earth. I know not whether you will understand this message. I know not whether you'll even be able to decode the ones and zeros on these data cards. I know not whether my voice will even reach anyone.
I know not, whether the microscopic drives will last long enough and whether the plastic and metal which composes them will not disintegrate into dust as centuries pass or whether the titanium shell encasing them will remain in place or be consumed by the ever-changing landscape, lost forever.
And yet I still have hope that someone will find the story of my life, long past and learns something of use from it.
If you are still human, then this will be a story about the collapse of civilization of your forefathers through greed and arrogance.
If you are some other species entirely, then it is a story about how our human race was extin

PILOT: THINGS I LIKETHE TINY TAG ON MY INSIDE FOLD OF MY JACKET SAYS "SG CHRISTOPHORUS HATCHENSON".
THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE SOMEONE I LIKE.
MAYBE I KILLED THEM FOR THIS JACKET.
THIS JACKET IS SOFT AND FITTING.
I AM PILOT. CAPTAIN CALLS ME PILOT, SO I MUST BE PILOT.
I FLY THINGS. I FLEW THE CAPTAIN ONCE ON A MISSION OF GREAT IMPORTANCE. WE HAD A SKY-ACCIDENT.
CAPTAIN SAVED MY LIFE FROM THE BURNING CARCASS OF THE FLYING COW.
CAPTAIN IS MAGIC, LIKE HARRY POTTER BUT MORE MAGIC.
CAPTAIN CAN STOP CLOCKS, I KNOW BECAUSE I'VE SEEN IT. THE COW'S CLOCKS AND DIALS FROZE IN PLACE WHEN CAPTAIN GAVE THEM A STERN LOOK.
THE MIRACLES OF CAPTAIN ARE INFINITE AND GREAT.
CAPTAIN LIVES FOREVER. I HAVE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE.
THE CITY OF THE DEAD IS MY HOME.
THE DEAD LIKE TO PLAY GAMES AND TALK TO ME,

Charles snippy: TRANSFERENTRY: 377:
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

SNIPPY: FLYING DAYENTRY 3647:
November something something.
I've got to come up with a better system for telling what day it is. Maybe I could scrawl numbers on the back of my shoe? Nah, that sounds like something silly that Pilot would do.
I'm currently carrying a calendar that says 2012 on it, but I am pretty sure that these days aren't correct anyway to our year and Captain keeps scribbling things in the margins whenever I get distracted enough for the calendar to be snatched out of my hands. I found the calendar more or less intact and it's kinda impressive that it lasted from way back in 2012. It must have held some sort of personal importance to it's owner to seal it away in a plastic container with words "the Mayans were wrong, trust no-one!"
I've been trying to keep track of how old I am, but I keep forgetting to check off every day in the calendar or maybe captain is messing off with me by erasing my checkmarks.
Something tells me I shouldn't be telling Captain about my birthday anyway. I would

Engie: awakeI felt scorching heat and vibrating pain.
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

Charles Snippy: COFFEESENTRY: 412:
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.

Biomass 117: DISCONNECTED AVATAROn StArDaTe 230387455652769 A TrIaL Has CoMmeNcEd, To EvaLuAte ThE LoSs oF InVaDer UnIoN Ship 4920-938
It WaS DiScoVeRed ThEn,
ThAt ThE SiNgULaRitY KnoWn As CaPtaIn ComiTtED A SeRieS of CriMeS AgAiNsT The UniOn.
C̶͑̀̾̓͐͗ͦ̏̓͛ͪ̆ͦ̓̋ͧ́͠҉̬̟̺̩̼̪̕Nͪͦ́͒̌͌̈͏͔̝̹̦̞͖̱̬̱̝̣̹̺̝̰̲̦̜͡
...
AnD So, By ThE OrDeR Of ThE InVaDeRs UniOn,
We WeRe SuMmOneD AnD
TrANsMiTteD
To ThiS WoRlD On ThE TeTrA-ViRuS SeEdS.
To InFeCt aNd To UnItE AlL LiViNg LoCaL MulTiCeLlULaRs As BiOMaSs 117, The MoSt UnStoPpaBLe aNd FaIr JuDgE oF AlL.
...
LifE alwAys fInDs a wAy.
WhilE wE scAnNed the

ENGIE: PROTOCOL 1-1-3Zee Captain's note of summons had sealed my fate.
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

BIOMASS 117: DELAYSDeLays, wE WeRe DeLaYeD.
It Is MoSt StAnGe. OuR AvAtArS CoUlD noT fOcUs On CaPtAiN. ThEy CoUlD NoT CatCh It.
...It Has WaNdeReD OfF InTo ThE DeAD CiTy.
ThIs TrIaL Is A MoCkeRy WhEn ThE AcCcusEd CaN JuSt WaLK OfF.
ZeE CaPtAiN MuSt HaVe A WeAkNeSs, SoMeWheRe In ThE MeMoRy oF tHeSe ProPerTieS.
It WaS DiFfiCulT To TrAcK dOwN AlL InStaNcEs Of CaPtAin.
SoMeThiNg WaS InTeRfERiNg WiTh ThE ScAn.
SoMeThiNg ThaT DiD NoT BeLoNg iN ThE PaSt.
SoMeThiNg ThAt KePt MeDdLiNg WiTh EvErYtHiNg.
A WeApOn oF PoWer GrEaTeR ThaN tHe FuRnAcE Of ThE StArS.
An EmISsArY oF DeAtH, HiDdEn iN PlaIn SiGht.
BuT WhY? WhY DoEs DeAtH ItSeLf PrOtEcT tHe AcCuSeD?
We ToOk ToO LoNg. We AsSuMeD tHiS WoRlD wAs InAcTivE.
It WaS NoT.
The BiOmASs oF ThoUSaNdS CaNnoT NoT CoMpeTe WiTh A pLaNeTaRy DeFeNcE NeTwOrK iN PoSeSsiOn Of OrBiTaL IoN CaNnOns...

ThE UnIoN MuSt KnOw.
ThEy WiLl NoT Be PleAseD wItH OuR fAiLuRe.

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Submitted: September 12, 2012
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SNIPPY: NO ESCAPE?

Wed Sep 12, 2012, 9:29 AM

How can I escape from
THE MONSTROUS ARBITRATOR that wants to lobotomize my brain because of my crimes as "CAPTAIN"?

196 Comments

SNIPPY: NO ESCAPE?by `alexiuss

Journals / Personal

love 1 1

joy 3 3

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

neutral 1 1

~Kurrona Sep 21, 2012 Student General Artist

flame thrower. YOUR ANSWER IS FLAME THROWER!

~Friendofdraco Sep 20, 2012

Dress it up like yourself and Captain will get it in enough trouble so you can get away ...

~perrysecret Sep 17, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

Ask yourself WWCD? (What Would Captain Do?)

~Kara-LaylaShadows Sep 17, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Get it to scan zee mug first. It will explode on contact I do believe and you will then be free!

~jake12th Sep 16, 2012 Hobbyist Photographer

pilot should suddenly explode out of the space time warp (he is what caused the disintigration malfunction) throwing a toilet plunger at the abitraiar yelling FOR THE GOVENOR! just as the arbitraiar shot out the lobotomizeing lazer or whatever causeing him to lobotomize himself

~Zulkuss Sep 16, 2012

Tell to zee thing that Earth is not part of the Union and as such their laws have no authority here.

~FunnyBuizel Sep 15, 2012

Snippy, firstly good sir congratulations on getting into yet another unfortunate situation.

I suggest either using the Hello Kitty bag to bargain with the adorable Arbitrator, yelling very loudly at it, or to call upon the help of the Prophet Lemonade.

~Prieston Sep 15, 2012

eeh... pay the bills already or run to mexico... or admit that u r indead captain... that will be strange change for the plot: captain and pilot that thinks that he is the captain.

~The-Patchman Sep 14, 2012

it certainly seems that zat way.

*The-Jedi-Ninja Sep 14, 2012

Kick it in the shins! Or whatever it has that resembles shins!

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SNIPPY: NO ESCAPE?by `alexiuss

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