Revenge of the Tits

The small glowing blob is protostar L1527! Caught in the glow of its sunrise-like creation the baby is only 100,00 years old! It can take up to 50 million years for a star to reach the size of our sun. This infant has a long time to go.

The city has no name. What need has it for a name, when nothing remains save for the city? Skyscrapers brush up against the firmament and alleyways force their way deep into the bowels of the earth. It has eaten all there is to eat; it has scoured the land of resources and slaked its thirst with the seas. -- Everything is a commodity in the city. Life, death, and divinity are portioned out and sold to the highest bidder. Everyone wants a piece of you: the only question is how much you're willing to sell.

Neon Blessing is a divine fantasy cyberpunk story. Gods, magic, and technology abound. The powers that be are corrupt. The system exists to turn warm bodies into cold cash. The people around you are fundamentally good, but desperation can drive good people to do terrible things.

Shiv is a thief in the deepest recesses of the Diluvian District, and it is with her that our story starts. How it ends is up to you.

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Look at something 20 feet away, then 10, then 5, then one, then if you can your nose.

Repeat twice, then again without glasses.

Face forward look out of the corner of your eye. As far as you can look. Slowly move to the other corner. Repeat twice.

Look down as far as you can. Slowly look up. Repeat twice.

Roll eyes twice.

Close eyes for five minutes.

The problem is that parents view all possessions as not really belonging to the child. A part of them always seems to think that the adult who provided the money is the real owner

If a parent breaks a dish they see it as breaking something that already belonged to them, but if a child breaks it they see it as the child breaking something that belonged to the parents

When I got my phone back that Monday, my teacher said it was important for me to learn this lesson now since in college they wouldn’t tolerate phones going off. Fast forward to when I was in college, any time someone’s phone went off, either the professor would tell them to turn it off, or they would say, “Oh, my bad,” and turn it off themselves, and everyone would move on. I even had a professor who danced around while someone’s phone went off, and it was a welcome moment of levity during the lecture.

A few times between the ages of 4 and 18 I broke things. I broke my grandma’s favorite Christmas ornament. Her first question was: “Are you hurt?” and when I apologized profusely she said “I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”

I broke a few plates. I broke a couple glasses. Every time my dad’s first response was “Did you get cut?” the second step was cleaning up the broken bits, and the third was a discussion of what led to me breaking it and how I could avoid doing that in the future.

Same with spills. Same with stains. My biggest “punishment” from my immediate family was being taught how to clean up the mess I made and being shown in detail how to avoid the same mistake in the future if it was avoidable. There were consequences for my actions, but they were the direct result of those actions and nothing much beyond that.

My family tried so hard to teach me how to deal with accidents in a healthy way. They were patient. They treated every slip-up as a learning opportunity. They showed me a lot of love. The other adults still got to me. Teachers still punished and publicly shamed me and other students for our mess-ups. Extended family members outside of my small supportive circle still yelled at me. My friends’ parents still got mad.

To the point where whenever I messed up my first instinct was that my dad or grandparents were going to punish me, or yell at me, or hit me, even though they never did. They just didn’t. They always responded with patience and an attitude of “I’m glad you’re safe and I want to help you learn from this.” And I was still afraid of messing up. Mortified. Expecting the worst every time.

When your retro pc robot girl discovers that side of internet..

Starring my robot gal Nova Netscape that you all seem to love for some reason!

© KIRAKUMACHI