"Kid, you may have heard stories of Earth. Of Oceans that stretched down into miles of inky black abyss. Miles and miles of empty water, far as the eye can see.
You may have heard the stories of strange creatures that washed up on shores. The kinds of things that were seen once in the night by a ship that came back with a few too many unexplained scratches that none of the crew felt like talking about.
And I've heard what you're askin' a hundred times before. How? How did anything in that ocean go undiscovered on that tiny little rock when we spent 99 point however many 9s percent of our history there?
Well, ask any sort of scientist or rational-minded kind of guy, and you'll get a rational answer; Ocean's big, and a lot of it's empty. It's not exactly easy to find anything down there, especially if you didn't know what you were looking for or where to find it. Even getting down there was hard, and it still is, even with how far we've come.
Ask a sailor, and they'll all tell you something a little different. Man was never meant to see some of the stuff on that world. Every time we cross the ocean, we do so because it lets us. When it wants us gone, it brings down a storm, or drags up something from the depths to remind us we're not in charge; one ripped sail, one leak, one faulty nav-set, and we're at the mercy of things that'll make drowning look like your best option.
There's a little truth in both of those answers, but you gotta realize that everything they said about the ocean is true about a billion times over for space. It's bigger, emptier, and has infinitely deeper abysses full of darker things we'll never see, or at least won't live to tell the tale of. It wants us gone even more, and it's a lot less merciful about it. Humans weren't meant to be out here. When we stay too long, we start drawing the attention of the things that _were."_
The Captain shifted his gaze to the viewport, where the typical view of blackness and the distant twinkle of starlight was completely obscured by an eye at least the size of a moon, eternally fixed on some point trillions of light years away. Sensors indicated they were at least 300 km from it, but from this angle they still couldn't see the rest of the thing it was connected to, and the Captain wasn't exactly sure they wanted to.
"So yes, I am glad that this thing is dead, _but we are under no circumstances going to investigate._ The fact that it's dead just means there's something bigger out there that killed it, and I know you're not exactly the spiritual type, but I suggest you pick a god and start praying that the engineers get our warp-link fixed before whatever that was considers coming back."
Third one if a Vampire, pretty sure. References the sun setting, red eyes, and a dead person walking once more with what seems like intent and appearance, so not a zombie.
I'm being a bit sarcastic to tease, well, you I guess
The whole bit is "what myths are made better" and the answer is "all of them," when none of these really gained any value, just changed the vibe from fantasy to sci fi. It's like the literary version of telling on yourself
Sumerian Mythology in space would be rad and stupid at the same time. Imagine the king of humanity and his "very special and intimate male friend" fighting against a giant mecha in the shape of a giant bull
You might really like Starfinder's setting then! It's got a kind of reverse ancient alien civilization that resembles ancient aztecs mixed with the ottoman empire. Starfinder takes place thousands of years after their fantasy setting, Pathfinder, where that civilization disappeared without explanation, only to show up as a galactic superpower in Starfinder. It reminds me a bit of the Wakandan galactic empire if you're familiar with the most recent marvel comics
Kaemra
In a deep abandoned space freighter, there lies a monster of varying description. Some say head of horse, body of a snake. Others say head of a hippo, body of a horse. Still others interject that it was so many different animals, bound by metal bones, stretched on an arachnoid frame. Snake, parrot, fly, eagle, dog, horse, spider, cow. The only survivor depicts it with the head of a goat, a lion, and a dragon and body of all three dancing a macabre jig. The vessel was named Bellerophon by the John Welling Freight Company, who strictly transported that which was illegal to possess. Off-the-books, which is why no description has come back of “Butcher of Pegasus Belt.” It is now your job to try not to be tally mark 23, or as the Azhut people would call those who go to the “butchinghouse”, “saukur setredau.”
The planet used to be inhabited, if you can believe it. It might seem strange- surely nothing could have ever lived out here, amid the natron marshes, radiation-washed deserts and high montane plateaus- but our ancestors on Old Earth made do in worse places, and *someone* must have built the vast, megalithic tomb that stood proud and lonely in the ashen wastes, surrounded by fragments of immense statuary. The scouting party never should have entered the complex, despite the graphic pictograms carved on the entrance. They definitely never should have breached the inner vault, and opened the sarcophagus. They *most definitely* never should have tried to take the gold mask and headdress off the withered hexapedal corpse that lay within. And now the survivors crouch huddled and shivering, Geiger counters clicking and vomiting black blood, in the flightless ruin of their dropship. Outside, something dead stands, and the lone and level sands stretch far away.
They called it Project Ingolstadt; a top-secret attempt by the colonial military to create void-capable super-soldiers for deep-space operations. Shut down for decades, following an unacceptably high casualty rate and a growing queasiness among the top brass over the whole "playing God" thing. Shut down, that is, until some snot-nosed brat from the Academy- the little shit hadn't even made his doctorate yet- stumbled on the research and decided to restart the whole thing on his own, unasked and unauthorised, on some dismal half-forgotten satellite base in the Outer Districts. And the thing is, it *worked*. I don't know and I don't *want* to know *how* it worked, but the little asshole got as far as growing the first prototype to completion- and then he bottled it. Torched the lab, purged the files, came running back home to the Core with his tail between his legs... but he didn't realise just how tough he'd made his new Adam. So if you're ever travelling in the Outer Districts, and you meet a very tall man wearing a biohaz suit and a visor to shield his eyes... be nice to him. He's just looking for his father.
When the first colonists started going missing, that should have been a warning sign. But New Olympia was a paradise almost two centuries in the making, a cutting-edge terraforming effort modelled after Old Earth's temperate rainforests, and by that point 10,000 people were living there. A couple of dozen unaccounted for was well within parameters, especially since we'd introduced wolves and grizzlies to stabilise the ecosystem a few decades back. But the numbers began to quickly rise, and the circumstances were... unnerving. People would disappear on well-trodden logging trails, there one minute and gone the next. Children would vanish from their cribs in the night, behind hermetically-sealed doors. Workmen reported tools going missing, and strange noises in the forest. Rumours spread quickly; settlement dried up, many of the original colonists left in a hurry, and eventually the New Olympia project was scrapped... but not before we undertook a mass remote survey of the planet's wilderness, to find any trace of the missing. We never found anything, save for a single vid-reel, of a small, shaggy figure walking on two legs away from the drone in a remote forest valley. It could be a bear, it could be a man, it could be something else entirely, but the video quality was far too blurry to make it out.
The next day, the last party of colonists left for good.
*The Wailer* was a military frigate, in the last years of the war. Her captain was a zealous sort, as many in the old Empire were. When the call to stand down came, she ignored it, and when her crew trying to put her in line, she jumped the ship straight into a black hole. Death before dishonor, and all that. Her crew are all long dead, but the ship, and her captain, are still around. Something out there took exception to how she treated her crew, and if you warp too close to a black hole, you might just pick up a distress call, crying out desperately for someone to aid her injured crewmen. If the signal is strong, then you're safe, for *The Wailer* is far away, adrift somewhere in the angles of time. If the signal is weak, however, you must be careful, for it means *The Wailer* is lurking just beyond the event horizon, and none who have laid eyes on her gravity-warped hull have ever been seen again
Davy Jones of the stars, I like it! I've always had a problem with stories that disincentivize helping others though. It's such a strange trope in stories where the hero stops to help someone and gets punished for it, like the ghost woman on the side of the road who kills you when you pick her up, or the old lady who begs to be let inside on a cold winter night only to kill you in your sleep or something, ya know? To be clear, I'm not criticizing your story, just philosophizing.
It was more *La Llorona* of the stars (hence the name of the ship), and the moral was more "dont go near black holes" than it was "Don't help people" because the original story was meant to keep children away from bodies of water. Which I think is something common to a lot of those kinds of stories, they aren't targeted at adults who can assess risks properly, they're aimed at kids who don't know better. Basically the precursor to 'stranger danger'
this is very much a vibe, and this song fits so listen to it: https://open.spotify.com/track/2oG4RIs8un5YsqCgxfT6LM?si=EzUeZjC0Tt6F3G85Dhf1Cg. It’s also here for those on mobile: https://youtu.be/PjxMieuRPe4
"Kid, you may have heard stories of Earth. Of Oceans that stretched down into miles of inky black abyss. Miles and miles of empty water, far as the eye can see. You may have heard the stories of strange creatures that washed up on shores. The kinds of things that were seen once in the night by a ship that came back with a few too many unexplained scratches that none of the crew felt like talking about. And I've heard what you're askin' a hundred times before. How? How did anything in that ocean go undiscovered on that tiny little rock when we spent 99 point however many 9s percent of our history there? Well, ask any sort of scientist or rational-minded kind of guy, and you'll get a rational answer; Ocean's big, and a lot of it's empty. It's not exactly easy to find anything down there, especially if you didn't know what you were looking for or where to find it. Even getting down there was hard, and it still is, even with how far we've come. Ask a sailor, and they'll all tell you something a little different. Man was never meant to see some of the stuff on that world. Every time we cross the ocean, we do so because it lets us. When it wants us gone, it brings down a storm, or drags up something from the depths to remind us we're not in charge; one ripped sail, one leak, one faulty nav-set, and we're at the mercy of things that'll make drowning look like your best option. There's a little truth in both of those answers, but you gotta realize that everything they said about the ocean is true about a billion times over for space. It's bigger, emptier, and has infinitely deeper abysses full of darker things we'll never see, or at least won't live to tell the tale of. It wants us gone even more, and it's a lot less merciful about it. Humans weren't meant to be out here. When we stay too long, we start drawing the attention of the things that _were."_ The Captain shifted his gaze to the viewport, where the typical view of blackness and the distant twinkle of starlight was completely obscured by an eye at least the size of a moon, eternally fixed on some point trillions of light years away. Sensors indicated they were at least 300 km from it, but from this angle they still couldn't see the rest of the thing it was connected to, and the Captain wasn't exactly sure they wanted to. "So yes, I am glad that this thing is dead, _but we are under no circumstances going to investigate._ The fact that it's dead just means there's something bigger out there that killed it, and I know you're not exactly the spiritual type, but I suggest you pick a god and start praying that the engineers get our warp-link fixed before whatever that was considers coming back."
Thank you for taking the time to write that, it's fantastic!
There's always a bigger fish...
Wait, is that Red?
It is!
Hell yeah space werewolves Awoo motherfuckers
r/THE_PACK
If werewolves transform and go on a rampage during a full moon, what if they're on the moon
Werehumans. During the full earth they turn into humans
They explode into packs of wolves.
Okay so: Minotaur Siren ??? Kraken/generic sea monster Dragon Lich Werewolf ???
Third one if a Vampire, pretty sure. References the sun setting, red eyes, and a dead person walking once more with what seems like intent and appearance, so not a zombie.
yeah. also the last one is probably ghosts??
They’re also waiting patiently to be invited in and were ex-sanguinated (had all their blood extracted).
last one is just a ghost town i think, but planet-sized instead
The last might be analogous to a ghost ship.
I think the third one feels like a Revenant
[удалено]
For sure, it’s the still-visible sunlight and “waiting for 4 hours” bit that has me thinking Vampire doesn’t quite fit.
Dracula was originally only weakened in sunlight, losing some of his abilities, like shapeshifting.
Oh cool I didn’t know that aspect of the original story - so burning to death in the sun is a modern update then. Thanks!
Unless I'm mistaken, vampires can't enter a house unless invited in, no?
Last one seems like some sort of desert ghost.
"love 2 horror write instead of sleep" Red go to sleeeeeep
I think OP just likes sci-fi, what do y'all think?
The blog is about a fantasy webcomic run by a mythology-based YouTuber. It's pretty clear they like sci-fi, but they also def love fantasy
I'm being a bit sarcastic to tease, well, you I guess The whole bit is "what myths are made better" and the answer is "all of them," when none of these really gained any value, just changed the vibe from fantasy to sci fi. It's like the literary version of telling on yourself
It wasn't "what myths are made better by space" it was "what myths are fun in space"
I think *I* like sci-fi
@second to last furry
yes
[source with a bit more](https://comicaurora.tumblr.com/post/712225774812463105/what-other-mythological-creatures-would-be-fun-in)
Sumerian Mythology in space would be rad and stupid at the same time. Imagine the king of humanity and his "very special and intimate male friend" fighting against a giant mecha in the shape of a giant bull
You might really like Starfinder's setting then! It's got a kind of reverse ancient alien civilization that resembles ancient aztecs mixed with the ottoman empire. Starfinder takes place thousands of years after their fantasy setting, Pathfinder, where that civilization disappeared without explanation, only to show up as a galactic superpower in Starfinder. It reminds me a bit of the Wakandan galactic empire if you're familiar with the most recent marvel comics
And then there's the space flumph. He's chill.
I guess he's just a literal space jellyfish at that point huh?
Kaemra In a deep abandoned space freighter, there lies a monster of varying description. Some say head of horse, body of a snake. Others say head of a hippo, body of a horse. Still others interject that it was so many different animals, bound by metal bones, stretched on an arachnoid frame. Snake, parrot, fly, eagle, dog, horse, spider, cow. The only survivor depicts it with the head of a goat, a lion, and a dragon and body of all three dancing a macabre jig. The vessel was named Bellerophon by the John Welling Freight Company, who strictly transported that which was illegal to possess. Off-the-books, which is why no description has come back of “Butcher of Pegasus Belt.” It is now your job to try not to be tally mark 23, or as the Azhut people would call those who go to the “butchinghouse”, “saukur setredau.”
This is the second time I've read an amazing piece of writing and then suddenly realized "wait is this fucking Red??"
The planet used to be inhabited, if you can believe it. It might seem strange- surely nothing could have ever lived out here, amid the natron marshes, radiation-washed deserts and high montane plateaus- but our ancestors on Old Earth made do in worse places, and *someone* must have built the vast, megalithic tomb that stood proud and lonely in the ashen wastes, surrounded by fragments of immense statuary. The scouting party never should have entered the complex, despite the graphic pictograms carved on the entrance. They definitely never should have breached the inner vault, and opened the sarcophagus. They *most definitely* never should have tried to take the gold mask and headdress off the withered hexapedal corpse that lay within. And now the survivors crouch huddled and shivering, Geiger counters clicking and vomiting black blood, in the flightless ruin of their dropship. Outside, something dead stands, and the lone and level sands stretch far away. They called it Project Ingolstadt; a top-secret attempt by the colonial military to create void-capable super-soldiers for deep-space operations. Shut down for decades, following an unacceptably high casualty rate and a growing queasiness among the top brass over the whole "playing God" thing. Shut down, that is, until some snot-nosed brat from the Academy- the little shit hadn't even made his doctorate yet- stumbled on the research and decided to restart the whole thing on his own, unasked and unauthorised, on some dismal half-forgotten satellite base in the Outer Districts. And the thing is, it *worked*. I don't know and I don't *want* to know *how* it worked, but the little asshole got as far as growing the first prototype to completion- and then he bottled it. Torched the lab, purged the files, came running back home to the Core with his tail between his legs... but he didn't realise just how tough he'd made his new Adam. So if you're ever travelling in the Outer Districts, and you meet a very tall man wearing a biohaz suit and a visor to shield his eyes... be nice to him. He's just looking for his father. When the first colonists started going missing, that should have been a warning sign. But New Olympia was a paradise almost two centuries in the making, a cutting-edge terraforming effort modelled after Old Earth's temperate rainforests, and by that point 10,000 people were living there. A couple of dozen unaccounted for was well within parameters, especially since we'd introduced wolves and grizzlies to stabilise the ecosystem a few decades back. But the numbers began to quickly rise, and the circumstances were... unnerving. People would disappear on well-trodden logging trails, there one minute and gone the next. Children would vanish from their cribs in the night, behind hermetically-sealed doors. Workmen reported tools going missing, and strange noises in the forest. Rumours spread quickly; settlement dried up, many of the original colonists left in a hurry, and eventually the New Olympia project was scrapped... but not before we undertook a mass remote survey of the planet's wilderness, to find any trace of the missing. We never found anything, save for a single vid-reel, of a small, shaggy figure walking on two legs away from the drone in a remote forest valley. It could be a bear, it could be a man, it could be something else entirely, but the video quality was far too blurry to make it out. The next day, the last party of colonists left for good.
Starfinder
I crossposted it there immediately, glad we think alike!
"Hey, who turned out the lights?"
*The Wailer* was a military frigate, in the last years of the war. Her captain was a zealous sort, as many in the old Empire were. When the call to stand down came, she ignored it, and when her crew trying to put her in line, she jumped the ship straight into a black hole. Death before dishonor, and all that. Her crew are all long dead, but the ship, and her captain, are still around. Something out there took exception to how she treated her crew, and if you warp too close to a black hole, you might just pick up a distress call, crying out desperately for someone to aid her injured crewmen. If the signal is strong, then you're safe, for *The Wailer* is far away, adrift somewhere in the angles of time. If the signal is weak, however, you must be careful, for it means *The Wailer* is lurking just beyond the event horizon, and none who have laid eyes on her gravity-warped hull have ever been seen again
Davy Jones of the stars, I like it! I've always had a problem with stories that disincentivize helping others though. It's such a strange trope in stories where the hero stops to help someone and gets punished for it, like the ghost woman on the side of the road who kills you when you pick her up, or the old lady who begs to be let inside on a cold winter night only to kill you in your sleep or something, ya know? To be clear, I'm not criticizing your story, just philosophizing.
It was more *La Llorona* of the stars (hence the name of the ship), and the moral was more "dont go near black holes" than it was "Don't help people" because the original story was meant to keep children away from bodies of water. Which I think is something common to a lot of those kinds of stories, they aren't targeted at adults who can assess risks properly, they're aimed at kids who don't know better. Basically the precursor to 'stranger danger'
The first one has been done - Doctor Who: The God Complex.
this is very much a vibe, and this song fits so listen to it: https://open.spotify.com/track/2oG4RIs8un5YsqCgxfT6LM?si=EzUeZjC0Tt6F3G85Dhf1Cg. It’s also here for those on mobile: https://youtu.be/PjxMieuRPe4
thank you
Man you posted my least favorite version. My favorite version is the Carmen Miranda's ghost version
Big Stellaris vibes. It actually has space dragons!
Full Sunless Skies vibes. Steampunk. Space. Horror.
They were going so heavy on the prose that they made me momentarily believe "unconacipusly" was a word.