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General discussionSunless Skies: Share your flash fiction, win sweet swag(87 posts)(87 posts)
(87 posts)
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This is my favourite topic
Posted February 16, 2019
Welcome, captain.

You took a wrong turn but ended up in the right place: the Haunted Traveler. Nobody remembers how this pub came to be and you'd swear it stands on a different corner every night. Yet somehow, its patrons always seem to find their way here.

Two weeks you were out there, drifting through the High Wilderness up in Sunless Skies aboard your brave locomotive. You got some stories to tell and we want to hear them.

Regale us with your most spectacular, horrific, exhilarating tales and these rewards could be yours:



• a set of three **very limited** pin badges
• and an item of your choosing from the official Failbetter store



The rules are simple: write a short story in English no longer than 101 words, inspired by the Fallen London universe and post it below. Begin your tale with either of these phrases:

The first thing we saw was...
The last thing we expected was...

We'll listen to your tale, sip our ale, and pick the three stories that impressed us the most. Will they be about a soul-crushing disaster, a fascinating discovery, an amusing anecdote? The tone and premise of the story are up to you. You can even participate with more than one story if you fancy.

So go on, captain, spin us a short tale that could make eldritch horrors weep with awe.
You have until February 24th, 11pm UTC to drop your submission(s).
Posted February 17, 2019
The last thing we expected was to find him dead. Alone, maybe, but dead?
“Nobody deserves that” muttered the stoker, “worked damn hard on that book too.” His spore infused body lay ensconced in the abandoned signal box.
Chef replied: “Maybe that’s how he wanted it…”
“Then we shoulda done something.”
“Like? Tell him how to die? Don’t seem a right thing to do.”
Silence creeped across the cabin. Perhaps he had been content. Or perhaps our journeys through the skies had blurred right from wrong.
“At least he left a legacy.” A collective murmur indicated we all agreed on that.
Posted February 17, 2019
The first thing we saw was the last thing we expected. As the mist we had found ourselves enveloped by for the fortnight finally dissipated and the lights of The Scarred Wolf illuminated our surroundings once more, we were not greeted by the serene glow of the nearby solitary star that had witnessed our dropping of the anchor before the gray took us into its bosom.

The green star was nowhere to be seen anymore.

Around us was only deep, pulsating red. On all sides we could see thick veins of crimson against the vermilion that seemed to go on forever...
Posted February 17, 2019
The last thing we expected was to find him alive. And yet, there he stood, after all these years - my captain. It was only after the initial confusion and joy when I started realizing that something was off. Although it had been 17 years, he hadn't aged a day. In fact, he was wearing the exact same clothes as on the day he vanished into the deep, immaculate as always, and I fell silent. I was the last one who had seen him that day, and this memory had burnt itself deep into my mind. He fixed his gaze on me...
Posted February 17, 2019
The first thing we saw was the crash: an incongrously luxurious airliner ramming the homestead again and again in a shriek of bent steel and dying wails, only to restart seconds later/earlier under the resentful indifferent darkness of the sun.

Our "special passengers" : a studiedly cliched image of a perfect family, impassive, unperturbed. Occasional flickers of "father" checking a pocketwatch.

Jumped off in unison as we drew near. Their belongings vanished with everything else. Whatever reprieve had been bargained at the price of recurring horror now at an end.

Only their fee inexplicably remained, to this day unspent, untouched. Locked away.
Posted February 17, 2019
The first thing we saw was the moon. It was blue and bright, filled with holes and craters that filled our eyes. As I sit in my private cabin I was asked by one of the crew,

"As a the only writer on board taking off the express into space, what do you expect to find?"

And I responded

"Time and splendor to see the far reaches of the universe documenting the extravagant travels of impressive men operating this splendid space steamer."

-John V. Durham, January 17, 19XX
Posted February 17, 2019
avatar
GOG.com: Welcome, captain.

You took a wrong turn but ended up in the right place: the Haunted Traveler. Nobody remembers how this pub came to be and you'd swear it stands on a different corner every night. Yet somehow, its patrons always seem to find their way here.

Two weeks you were out there, drifting through the High Wilderness up in Sunless Skies aboard your brave locomotive. You got some stories to tell and we want to hear them.

Regale us with your most spectacular, horrific, exhilarating tales and these rewards could be yours:

• a set of three **very limited** pin badges
• and an item of your choosing from the official Failbetter store

The rules are simple: write a short story in English no longer than 101 words, inspired by the Fallen London universe and post it below. Begin your tale with either of these phrases:

The first thing we saw was...
The last thing we expected was...

We'll listen to your tale, sip our ale, and pick the three stories that impressed us the most. Will they be about a soul-crushing disaster, a fascinating discovery, an amusing anecdote? The tone and premise of the story are up to you. You can even participate with more than one story if you fancy.

So go on, captain, spin us a short tale that could make eldritch horrors weep with awe.
You have until February 24th, 11pm UTC to drop your submission(s).
The last thing we expected was finding a stowaway aboard. How did she get here and why in Bloody Cthulu did nobody notice her up until recently? She appears to be nothing more than a mute waif; a teenager by human standards. The crew had to determine if we'd allow her on our journey or toss her out the nearest airlock. Fortunately, they chose the latter. It seems she possesses some literacy so she travels around with writing implements. I'm not quite certain what her future with us will be at this point; we'll see what happens.
Posted February 17, 2019
The last thing we expected was the object appearing out of the nebula before our locomotive. It resembled a sarcophagus, marmorean and somehow strangely effulgent in the darkness of the High Wilderness. As we neared the object raised lunules could be seen running along the top, deepening its mystery. Donning my sky-suit and opening the door brought on an impalpable feeling of dread. Leaping out to cross the gulf in the ether to the object I wondered what secrets it held? Tribute great enough to entice an Old One or the penury leavings of a long dead vagabond...
Posted February 17, 2019
The last thing we expected was to behold an ancient Pyramid, complete with incomprehensible Correspondence-like glyphs running down its flanks, floating in the middle of the High Wilderness before us.

Enticing us with its enigma.

...was it an ancient survivor of the Second or Third City eras somehow thrown into space?...or something else altogether....something from an alternate history or a stranger dimension?

Only one way to find out...
Post edited February 17, 2019 by AndresChCR
Posted February 17, 2019
avatar
GOG.com: Welcome, captain.

You took a wrong turn but ended up in the right place: the Haunted Traveler. Nobody remembers how this pub came to be and you'd swear it stands on a different corner every night. Yet somehow, its patrons always seem to find their way here.

Two weeks you were out there, drifting through the High Wilderness up in Sunless Skies aboard your brave locomotive. You got some stories to tell and we want to hear them.

Regale us with your most spectacular, horrific, exhilarating tales and these rewards could be yours:

• a set of three **very limited** pin badges
• and an item of your choosing from the official Failbetter store

The rules are simple: write a short story in English no longer than 101 words, inspired by the Fallen London universe and post it below. Begin your tale with either of these phrases:

The first thing we saw was...
The last thing we expected was...

We'll listen to your tale, sip our ale, and pick the three stories that impressed us the most. Will they be about a soul-crushing disaster, a fascinating discovery, an amusing anecdote? The tone and premise of the story are up to you. You can even participate with more than one story if you fancy.

So go on, captain, spin us a short tale that could make eldritch horrors weep with awe.
You have until February 24th, 11pm UTC to drop your submission(s).
The last thing we expected was the size of it. Beeswax walls soaring high as Westminster, dripping with liquid gold. We hopped out the airlock, started scooping with our hands. It was easy enough, until...

The air started to shimmer, almost. Then we heard it: that d__nable buzzing (more like a thundering) as a swarm exited – the transept I s'pose – and turned our way. Somehow we made it out. They were everywhere, stinging and singing... It’s been in my head ever since – like it's in my bones. Oh, sorry about the sticky fingers, friend. That honey gets everywhere.
Post edited February 18, 2019 by darlingdeer
Posted February 17, 2019
The last thing we expected was company. All those weeks alone, encountering not a soul, not a light in the darkness; and, as the void sapped our spirits, hardly even a word to each other.
There it was, a dark, still vessel, wrong in all the details.
"See the bow? Should never be so fat," said Gunnery Hosgood. "It ain't natural."
We spied from a distance. No crew moved on board. A Lost Ship of the skylines. And we know the rumours about those.
Curse me, I gave the order to board. And my stained soul must bear the consequences.
Posted February 17, 2019
oops,missed the word allowance, will post later, cheers
Post edited February 18, 2019 by mintee
Posted February 18, 2019
The last thing we expected was to see ourselves, bedecked in finery as befitting the grand ball we had stumbled upon. The music, the laughter, the nanty narking...we had stumbled upon a benjo in this Godforsaken abyss. Minds whirling at this impossibility, hidden within the shell of the lonely dreadnought, hidden behind the onyx door, in the box, in the small globe.

Then we saw her, our Queen, as the skies blazed and a single tear trickled down my cheek. She wiped it away, and then removed her face. And I screamed as her thousand eyes locked upon me.
Posted February 18, 2019
The first thing we saw was the Charming Arriviste, smart as ever in her trenchcoat of hallowed scale. With louche panache she raised her Timeless Cocktail and offered a brief salute.

"These are all that's left" she lisped. Wide greenlight from the Haunted's bar ran listlessly over the Gristle Rings. Fat and waxy, but not of great value.

"Things could change" I said with composure, as a Smoky Waiter laid my Unusual Ale on the table. "Say, if we jacked the Warbling Wefts I have a lead on".

We all enjoyed the night, and steamed north by northwest in the morning.
Post edited February 18, 2019 by Anticon
Posted February 18, 2019
The last thing we expected was a communal chamberpit. But two weeks out in the lonely expanse makes one mad for proper beer and crumpets. The Haunted Wanderer? Perhaps they meant the loo is haunted. We had to share a pit with a tentacled menace that seemed a bit too interested in our side of things, if you catch my meaning. Meanwhile, we pretend to fly dark matter kites. Luckily Johnathan and I made it out alive and possessing of all our appendages! Don’t look now, but there it is! Is it? It approaches! Let us fly those kites, once again!
Post edited February 25, 2019 by Dr_Adder
Posted February 18, 2019
Here is my humble submission. It is meant to be read with the voice of a grizzled sea dog besides a roaring fire. A round of ale has just been passed round and...

The first thing we saw was the lighthouse on the horizon. It's light promising warmth, safety. Then I heard a tempest rushing across the waves. Tyrant Moth bigger than a dreadnought. It was like a black ghost bearing a tapestry of paradise upon it's wings and hell it eyes. For a second all was still, all was quiet. Then Captain Daniels screamed like a girl. When it finally burned upon the sea, I caught another glimpse of perfection and belonging, on my oath I heard singing. On cold nights like these, when I close my eyes I can still hear it.
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This is my favourite topic
Community
General discussionSunless Skies: Share your flash fiction, win sweet swag(87 posts)(87 posts)
(87 posts)