More Fantastic Work From Beansnake.tumblr.com ! This Is Me In My Shadowrun Outfit

More fantastic work from beansnake.tumblr.com ! This is me in my Shadowrun outfit

The Ultimate Re-Sowing of the Human Race – 4000 AD, Artist: Anton Kurka, if magazine, January 1953.

‘Leaving 2210’ painting by John Berkey : RetroFuturism #spaceship – https://www.pinterest.com/pin/206321226662415987/

Carnell sample chapter

There were two lunch lines at STEC-prep Young Adult Educational Correction Facility. The first was the macro line. This line was only for those large enough “not to require disability accommodation.” The second line was for everyone else.

    “Get out of the way, mouse. This is MY spot.”

    Cole ducked his head, his fur standing on end, ears folding back. But he didn’t move. His hands were tucked into his pockets.

    “Didn’t you hear me, you little RAT? MOVE!”

    But he wouldn’t. Cole’s stomach growled. The iguana was twice his height, and was looming over him with his enormous, green-scaled body. Cole had no doubt that those powerful jaws would need only a single snap and his neck would be swung apart; but he also knew there was a camera just above the micro line. It was covered in spit and grime, not to mention the rude graffiti, but it was something. And the iguana would know that too. He wouldn’t dare-

    A shove. Cole lost his balance.

    “AaaAaaaaAAH!”

    He faceplanted into the floor, ass up. There was laughter. The bitter, mean-spirited laughter of terrified people. He’d get no help here. And no food either, at this rate.

    He tried to stand but his arms wobbled and his elbows gave way. He stayed down as the laughter continued. Guffaws. High fives.

    He just wanted to get out of there. No point wasting time at the back of the line. He’d have to find his own food. If he could only just… stand…

    “What’s going on down here?”

    The laughter died.

    The fellnics were enormous, feline-like humanoids. They were furless except on their ears and tail, but their skin would often sport patterns, or Marks, like those on the coats of predatory cats. They were on average some hundred and fifty feet tall, to Cole’s mere ten.

    Cole knew the voice of their females. He’d heard their snickering and bickering, their snide remarks and their predatory gossip more than enough times to know—

    She was scooping him up.

    Her slender, delicate fingers… her cool skin… a smell… clean, fresh…

    Her palms came together and Cole shuddered, rolling himself into a little ball. Her thumbs shielded him in shadow and he trembled.

    “Shhhhh… shh shh… relax…”

    Her voice sent chills up and down his spine.

    “You’re safe… stay still…”

    He tucked his arms in tight against his chest and tried to bite down his shuddering.

    “You’re safe with me…”

 --

      They sat across from each other. Or, the fellnic sat at a chair and he took a seat on the edge of her plate.

    They ate in silence for a moment. It was nice, having actual food for once. The cafeteria would usually only cook macro-sized dishes and the scraps would be left for the others to collect. Burnt brownie edges, pasta bits and refused types of meat. It was a lottery.

    But this… Cole could reach across and scoop up some of the soft, meaty liver sausage paste straight from her plate and she wouldn’t even notice. He didn’t even have to sniff it before eating.

    He looked up at her. There was no pattern on her face, no Marks. Black curls drooped from her head and often obscured her face, and the fur on her ears tapered into little tufts at the pointed edges. She wore a baggy, practical outfit that covered most of her body. There were shadows under her eyes.

    Cole cleared his throat. “Uhm… I’m Cole.”

    “Carnell.”

Cole looked up at her, putting the name to the face. She took small bites from a meat biscuit. Cole tried some of the blood potatoes.

    “So… you usually sit by yourself?”

    She nodded.

    “Why don’t you sit with the others?”

    “They’re…” She grimaced a little. “It’s not for me.”

    “What’s not?” Cole said.

    “What they do.”

    Cole chewed slowly on a piece of her meat pie. “What do they do?”

    She bit a meat biscuit. She chewed as well, for a minute. They both chewed.

    “I know what they do,” Cole said. He was looking over the vast expanse of meat products before him.

    “They can’t help it,” Carnell said, “I-It’s in their nature—their genes. I mean. They only do what—“

    He looked up.

    “Ah—“ she tried to continue. She stopped and looked away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

    “It’s alright.”

    He ate. She sat quietly. Her hair was falling over her face, and she wasn’t brushing it away.

    She said in a small voice, “have they ever… have you…?”

    He ate.

    “A friend of mine,” he said.

    “Oh. Uhm… Is he…?”

    “She’s gone.”

    He angrily bit off a chunk of meat.

    “I’m sorry…” she said in a whisper.

    He stopped.

 --

      She’d kept him in her purse for much of the day. He said he could afford to miss some classes. He couldn’t.

    She stood at the exit to the school.

    “Do you want me to, uhm… help you home?” She asked down at her purse.

    “I can make it,” he said.

    “Are you sure?”

    He paused for a moment.

    “I can make it.”

    She looked up. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

    Cole climbed up and peeked over the edge of the purse.

He saw them. It was a group of fellnic girls. Roukka and her cronies. She brushed her gorgeous, flowing hair away from her face, grinning from ear to ear as the others laughed. Her Marks were on proud display. Albino Bengal tiger.

Cole caught a silver eye locked directly on him for just a flash.

Cole knew that look. He knew it well.

He dived back into the purse.

What was he gonna do now? Carnell had made him a target. He thought of his chances of making it all the way to the micro tram. They were slim.

“Alright,” he said. He had no choice. “Please take me home with you.”

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

UNDER_V// Day 762