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About Literature / Hobbyist Dirk HoderinMale/United Kingdom Groups :iconpnf2-twisted-truths: PnF2-Twisted-Truths
You Cant Fight The Lies
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Literature
Danny Blake and the Dawn Eater
For the last three hours, Danny Blake had become increasingly fractious.
Perhaps the biggest contributing factor was that “Clash of Candy Bird Ninjas” was not, in fact, the thrill-packed super addictive app its store page had promised. In all honesty it hadn't even entertained him until they'd left their home town.
Moreover,, as of about twenty minutes ago the game's poor quality had become a moot point, owing to the fact that his phone's battery had drained to nothing and despite his best efforts, resolutely refused to charge from the meagre amount of power offered by the car's on board USB hub.
And finally, perhaps he would only be tired and cranky were they taking a more scenic route, but the perfect monotony of endless motorway had been taking its toll on him ever since he realised the app he'd downloaded for the trip was garbage.
As it stood, he was tired, cranky and bored.
He tried his phone again in the hopes that the feeble car charger had at least served up enough
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Literature
Skybound
Penelope had lost count of the amount of times that number six auxiliary engine had failed, but now she was fixing it on her own for the first time, it felt like a rite of passage.
With an almost automatic motion, she tapped her phone on the sensor for the external maintenance gantry, which made a pleasant little ping sound before it unlocked and she pushed it open, letting a rush of cold air into the Aurora's cabin as she did so.
By now the safety procedure was muscle memory; first the primary line went on the guide rail on the right hand side, anchoring her to it by a strong and unforgiving cord that linked to her harness at three different points, then the secondary line went on the same rail, this one was considerably longer and fed into a pack on the back of her harness, then finally the thick, heavy-duty tertiary cord attached to the secondary anchor point that was recessed a few centimetres in the floor of the gantry, so that even if the safety rail broke, she had a final redund
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Literature
The Rise and Fall of Lillethwaite
From up at the top of pioneers' peak, Phoebe could see right down over the little town of Lillethwaite. From the end of the utterly monstrous launch rail that once formed the backbone of the western United States' Mars-Earth transit route, she could see as far as the curvature of the earth allowed.
When she was younger, she liked to think that if she went up on a perfect day, then she would see the coast, with water sparkling and waves crashing against the beaches.
Taking a quick look round, she caught sight of Alice – a good friend of hers – climbing the steep, weather-beaten steps up to the beginning of the launch rail's pier-like extension off the end of pioneers' peak.
She was a funny looking girl; her long and spindly limbs seemed to have been sewn on to her strong, thick-set body and her face bore massive glasses that made her face look particularly owl-like.
For a minute or two, her thoughts went to Alice climbing up to reach her, but like most of the time when she w
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Mature content
Inside Out Postapocalypse story :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 4 3
Literature
Videogame hall of shame: Driveclub
Oh boy. It's been years, but driveclub just stuck its dick in a hornets' nest and I'll be damned before I let that slide.
So, let's go over this, point-for-point, because oh boy. This game needs some serious picking apart.
1: the cars' handling is quite horriffic.
No seriously, it's dismal. The cars are unnecessarily, freakishly sticky and therefore neither feel realistic nor fun to drive. Driving round a turn at speed just results in awful understeer and good luck trying to powerslide the cars; any use of the handbrake just slows you right down, resulting in the most horribly dull driving experience I've ever had.
2: you can't total your car
Any damage sustained in this game is purely cosmetic, and that sucks.
Further to my earlier point, any collisions with other cars are just dull and lifeless. You get crashy noises but nothing actually happens. Your opponents' cars simply don't move and if you truly mess up hard and go head-on into a wall, all that happens is that you bounce off. I
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Literature
A minute Past Midnight: Portus in all its glory
An unfamiliar hand shook him awake and Felix recoiled, his vision still bleary and yelping like an injured dog as he tried to identify his surroundings and get as much distance from the hand that had woken him as possible, before his eyesight finally cleared and he relaxed as he saw Tullulah kneeling on the floor, looking terrified and gripping a plate in her hand.
A moment of silence passed between them before Tullulah put the plate on the ground next to where he had been sleeping and whispered “sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”
She then shuffled sheepishly out through the hatch, trying her best to look as non-threatening as possible.
Felix sighed hard, letting out the breath that he'd been holding out of fear as he crawled over to the sandwich on the floor, which had miraculously survived.
He heard Drake moving around next to him as he picked up the sandwich and took a bite and turned around slowly to see his brother, bleary-eyed and with his hair in a mess, fixing hi
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Literature
Tomorrowland review
Tomorrowland review: a refreshing – if flawed - take on the future.
What's it about?
A Teenage girl with an unusually optimistic view on the world and a strong will to back it up meets a grizzled ex-inventor/supergenius and an android girl on her way to a hidden future world, where something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Cut to the chase. Is it any good?
Yes.
I'm intrigued. Tell me more!
Okay then.
Tomorrowland presents a much-needed breath of fresh air where it comes to science fiction. Where other sci-fi movies this year (and of late, I suppose) seem to be focusing on making a more believable and mechanically cohesive future, Tomorrowland quite recklessly operates on the rule of cool: that is, if it's cool it works and to hell with the logic.
The result is a film that takes a remarkable amount of pleasure in just how cool the future can be, with jetpacks and looping streets, hover-trains and cities that rise toward the sky like their creators have some kind of personal iss
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a pixar tribute part 1: Toy Story :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 1 0 Martian battle potato or 'uuuuulllaah'.jpg :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 1 1
Literature
Guardian angel: dream levels
The levels of the dreamworld: a brief introduction and guide.
Level six:
This is the main dreamworld, accessed in a shared state by all guardians, where all commands work freely and the guardians have total control.
In an unaltered state, dreams will anchor themselves to level six and expand within level five, giving rise to the experience of passing through a membrane sometimes faced by guardians, as well as allowing guardians to build dreams easier than any other level.
Created in 1865 by Elder Guardian Maxwell Kingsley, level six was designed as the successor to the deteriorating fifth level, where he envisioned guardians could completely correct dreams without ever having to enter them - this would go on to be implemented a mere two years after the completion of level six.
As well as an enhanced tolerance of commands, Level six was also created to offer a natural corrective effect to any dream created inside it, provided that dream was anchored to the “floor” and expand
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why did the crab blush? :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 1 1 concrete thingy :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 1 0 what does mycellus wallace look like? :iconthefailmaster:thefailmaster 1 1
Literature
32: night
32: night.
I love the city at night.
From my bedroom I hear the cars go by, their engines and movement muted into calming shushing sounds.
The lights in the tower blocks make a join-the dots some eighty metres high.
Sirens in the distance become like birdsong and the occasional rumble of passing jets forms a powerful bass to offset the rest of the soundscape.
The few stars I can see look just fine, twinkling away in the sky, while the many stars of the city do their own little dance.
Oh god do the streetlamps look cool at night from altitude.
The cool breeze on my face refreshes me, while whatever music I want, drifts to my ears from my trusty phone.
Below me, my garden looks pleasant, but from here I can see all the others' gardens, see a group around a fire. See the lights from another street, look off along rooftops and have them lead my eyes toward the city centre, where all the lights cluster together to make the constantly glowing heart of the city.
It seems people always critici
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Literature
the meeting of the beacons
For such a feared, almost mythical man, the soothsayer was not what Scott had imagined.
He had imagined a tall dark and mysterious individual with wrinkles on his face and the kind of facial hair that one could be forgiven for thinking was merely sheep wool stuck to his face.
In fact, the Soothsayer was a relatively young glasswing, with a bald head and an athletic physique, rounded off with eyes that looked constantly alert and skin as dark as molasses.
Moreover, for the leader of a political counter-movement, his clothes were almost disappointingly mundane; a long-sleeved shirt and cotton trousers served to make him as uninteresting as possible.
The perfect diguise.
In contrast to the houses and other buildings Bethany had taken him into over the last few days, the meeting room for the Beacons consisted of nothing more than a large table and three little LED lights from a torch or a set of christmas lights; save for these, the floor and walls were just bare earth.
Bethany pulled up t
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Literature
Ode to USB
Where would we be?
Without USB?
Without the drivers that only install correctly on the third port you use.
Without the bizarre quantum superposition that means the damn thing only fits on the third try.
Like seriously, how is that possible?
What would I do, if you didn't mysteriously slow right down halfway through a huge data transfer?
And where would I be, if I didn't lose at least four USB sticks a year?
Pretty screwed, that's where.
you may not be perfect, USB, neither may you be the fastest out there, but you have a special place in my heart.
Because you're universal.
Discs are limited. Cloud storage is dross, Firewire's dead and Thunderbolt never even got off the ground. Network is unreliable and floppy is just terrible.
Oh, and seriously, screw tapes. Tapes are the worst.
And so, my dear nerds, let us raise a glass, to that most ubiquitous of gadgets.
That most basic of features on a computer.
That one little port you take for granted.
Because without it, computers would be far
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so yeah, this is the newest stuff, there's plenty of old stuff to look through too

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Critiques


This is very well written; the flow and the imagery is especially nice, with the little rhetorical questions and whatnot, that said, I ...

Journal History

I'm hoping to turn what I originally intended to be TV series into a webcomic. There's a small amount of concept art and some writing I did for it if anyone wants it. it's a sci-fi story that's hopefully going to be done in an episodic kind of style.

I'd be interested in working with anybody but I'd prefer if any applicants had a more realistic style (more or less detailed doesn't matter much) and I'd rather avoid anime styles.

Thanks for your time.

Activity


For the last three hours, Danny Blake had become increasingly fractious.
Perhaps the biggest contributing factor was that “Clash of Candy Bird Ninjas” was not, in fact, the thrill-packed super addictive app its store page had promised. In all honesty it hadn't even entertained him until they'd left their home town.
Moreover,, as of about twenty minutes ago the game's poor quality had become a moot point, owing to the fact that his phone's battery had drained to nothing and despite his best efforts, resolutely refused to charge from the meagre amount of power offered by the car's on board USB hub.
And finally, perhaps he would only be tired and cranky were they taking a more scenic route, but the perfect monotony of endless motorway had been taking its toll on him ever since he realised the app he'd downloaded for the trip was garbage.
As it stood, he was tired, cranky and bored.
He tried his phone again in the hopes that the feeble car charger had at least served up enough power for him to turn it on and call somebody, or aimlessly surf the internet for a minute or two.
No such luck; a battery icon flashed defiantly at him before the screen went black once more, hammering home the harsh reality that the remainder of the journey was going to be spent enduring crushing boredom.
He looked out the window in case anything interesting might appear or go by, but the motorway continued into oblivion; as astoundingly dull as it was long.
For a moment a sign caught his attention, but he quickly forgot it once he realised it only indicated their proximity to a service stop.
Danny sighed heavily as he resorted to listening in to what his parents were talking about, but as he feared, all they were talking about right now was just the impenetrable dullness of local government policies in the little town they were moving to.
Even the radio wasn't engaging him right now: for the umpteenth time, a newsreader went through the day's articles, though they might as well have been the same articles as any in the last ten or so years.
Somebody had gone to jail, people were killing each other in far off countries and a celebrity had said a thing: same old, same old.
He wondered for a moment just how much the newsreader got paid, but it wasn't long until the boredom set in again.
Finally – as futile as it may well be – Danny felt driven to subject his parents to some whinging, if only to make his current displeasure known.
“Are we nearly there yet?” he asked, being sure to use the time-honoured rhythm and intonation that drove parents across the world to despair, but when his mother turned round he instantly felt guilt sinking in.
She smiled weakly at him to indicate her sympathy, “it's not all that far now” she soothed, “yeah, don't worry, we're only going to be moving for another half hour at the most” his father added.
His mother looked sure of this, raising her eyebrows in agreement.
His dad continued, glancing in the rear-view mirror so he could get a good look at him, “look, I know it's been a long journey. Tell you what; once we get there, I'll just dump all our stuff down and we'll all go out for a nice big lunch. How does that sound?”
Danny nodded enthusiastically, relieved his parents hadn't picked him up for his comment. That morning he'd not had anything for breakfast save for a pathetically small cereal bar so any news of food was music to his ears.
“Sounds great” he replied “thanks dad.”
“That's okay, but any more bellyaching like that and you're unpacking the car by yourself.”
He laughed nervously.
He deserved that, he thought to himself.
Danny Blake and the Dawn Eater
So a while back I wrote a thing to probe at the fringes of a potential story and now, some time later, I'm revisiting that story in an official manner, even if it's just by way of writing an opening.

It occurs to me that in all this time I've written about fantastical worlds, airships, action, space, friends and the post apocalypse, but it's been pretty much EXACTLY ten years since I've written a simple scene with a few characters in a car.

Also, I'm back. apologies for being away for so long.
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Dirk Hoderin
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United Kingdom
I'm a writer with a head full of ideas, a love of tech and the proud owner of perhaps too many opinions.

Cartoons are also a guilty pleasure for me and I thoroughly enjoy creating stereoscopic images as well as trying and failing to draw most things.

feel free to browse my page at your leisure and please do take the time to leave a comment if you like any of my work, I really appreciate it.
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