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krovris.bsky.social
krovris
@krovris.bsky.social
210 followers 120 following 940 posts
Nyanbinary (they/them) & transmasc & black

I'm working on a sci-fi netpunk biopunk mildly horror-y novel called Epoch. I also work on other things sometimes! Also I have two cats and they’re cooler than 99% of people. Pretty sure that’s how it works!!
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krovris.bsky.social
quick, draw what you're wearing! 5 minutes max
shadow blob human thing on a blue background. the lines are done in white. i got a t shirt, boxers, socks, and glasses
January 23, 2025 at 1:24 AM
krovris.bsky.social
“…Every single fucking second I have to look at you makes me regret having created you at all. An accomplishment of wild proportions you may be, and yet you still make me sick.”

#WritingCommunity #amwriting #sff #biopunk #writesky

Doing #WIPsnips is an endless cycle of ‘did i share this yet or??’
“I’m wondering why. Are you in physical pain? Are you terrified of dying? Are you wasting my fucking time by being so fucking pathetic—you called me weak. You… are the weakest of us, yes? Certainly compared to me. That’s why you’re crying, and also why you’re on the floor sniveling like a coward. Every single fucking second I have to look at you makes me regret having created you at all. An accomplishment of wild proportions you may be, and yet you still make me sick.” Infinity said nothing. What could it say? Eight was right in a lot of ways. It was true that they were the same— that if nothing else, they shared the same issues. That Eight was so deeply offended being called weak, only to throw that very same insult… because it knew how true it felt for both of them.
January 23, 2025 at 1:04 AM
krovris.bsky.social
As Dennis finally stood up, feeling an uncomfortable weight that had crept into his bones within the last couple years—it was age, weariness, and now this exhaustion.

#WritingCommunity #BrusBookshop #Writesky
As Dennis finally stood up, feeling an uncomfortable weight that had crept into his bones within the last couple years—it was age, weariness, and now this exhaustion. He was almost worried that this would knock him straight out onto the ground, but he felt just as tired as he had before Eight decided to quit the whole ‘drugging you behind your back’ thing.
January 22, 2025 at 4:00 AM
krovris.bsky.social
…Particularly because the zipper that released the turtleneck collar also happened to be chopped in half by the axe Eight had taken quite violently to Infinity’s shoulder.

#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #sff #biopunk #amwriting

Fashionably late as always 😎
Pulling off the jacket was the easy part— the shirt, with its modular sleeves and all, was significantly harder. Particularly because the zipper that released the turtleneck collar also happened to be chopped in half by the axe Eight had taken quite violently to Infinity’s shoulder.
January 16, 2025 at 9:06 AM
krovris.bsky.social
An AU I’m writing called I, The Destroyer (Infinity Edition) is officially at 27.2k and I started it on the 11th. I physically cannot stop writing it has been HOURS.

#WritingCommunity
A chart delineated by white lines. the header reads: Totals by Project Total Words Under Totals by Project lists the title I, The Destroyer (Infinity Edition) Under total words is the number 27,200
January 15, 2025 at 8:11 AM
krovris.bsky.social
But it laid down anyway. Stared at the ceiling. Tried to mind its broken shoulder blade and the pain in its back. Moreso the pain that had started flowing from its chest— something like heartbreak, probably.

It shut its eyes. It slept.

#WritingCommunity #WIPsnips #sff #biopunk #Writesky #amwriting
But it laid down anyway. Stared at the ceiling. Tried to mind its broken shoulder blade and the pain in its back. Moreso the pain that had started flowing from its chest— something like heartbreak, probably. It shut its eyes. It slept.
January 14, 2025 at 1:14 AM
krovris.bsky.social
Dennis couldn’t get pissed off and leave if he couldn’t move. Or speak. Or think. And Eight wouldn’t have to see that betrayed, disgusted look in his eyes when it had to tell him all the things it wished were not true.

#WIPsnips #sff #biopunk #amwriting #writesky #WritingCommunity
Dennis couldn’t get pissed off and leave if he couldn’t move. Or speak. Or think. And Eight wouldn’t have to see that betrayed, disgusted look in his eyes when it had to tell him all the things it wished were not true. That the infection was still accessible. That Atom got her hands on it— irresponsible! And then it’d have to explain what became of the old bitch, what it had to do to keep him alive. And he’d be left to wonder how much it wasn’t telling him. Whether it took a piece of his flesh for further experimentation, or if it had implanted some kind of device beneath his skin. (Again.)
January 12, 2025 at 12:26 AM
krovris.bsky.social
“It’s shielded,” said Key, and she glanced at the door she’d just come through, “It, uh, doesn’t look like this place is, though! I’m kinda surprised.”

“Shut the fuck up,” and Eight gestured to the door, “Show me the car.”

#WIPsnips #WritingCommunity #sff #biopunk #writesky #amwriting

AM LATE
“Key. I’ve never met you before, have I?” Eight said, and she jolted straight out of her cautious reverie, spinning around to find The Surgeon watching her from a nearby stairwell. “Uhm, n-no,” she said, “Not in person. Are Dennis and Star okay?” “Star is taking her sweet time and Dennis is trying in vain to assist her despite being in very bad shape. Show me the car you brought. They can’t go out there if it isn’t shielded properly from the ambient radiation.” “It’s shielded,” said Key, and she glanced at the door she’d just come through, “It, uh, doesn’t look like this place is, though! I’m kinda surprised.” “Shut the fuck up,” and Eight gestured to the door, “Show me the car.” “Key. I’ve never met you before, have I?” Eight said, and she jolted straight out of her cautious reverie, spinning around to find The Surgeon watching her from a nearby stairwell. “Uhm, n-no,” she said, “Not in person. Are Dennis and Star okay?” “Star is taking her sweet time and Dennis is trying in vain to assist her despite being in very bad shape. Show me the car you brought. They can’t go out there if it isn’t shielded properly from the ambient radiation.” “It’s shielded,” said Key, and she glanced at the door she’d just come through, “It, uh, doesn’t look like this place is, though! I’m kinda surprised.” “Shut the fuck up,” and Eight gestured to the door, “Show me the car.”
January 12, 2025 at 12:20 AM
krovris.bsky.social
The seat was molded to fit him like a glove, there was extra legroom, he even had bottles of alcohol stored in here (and maybe some sordid drug paraphernalia, though he didn’t use very often).

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #sff #biopunk #Amwriting

:D
The transport he used was slim and sleek— a Center District pod modified to his specifications. While most of these cabs belonged to Vangrel (or, specifically the district they were made therein), this was Gannon’s alone. His was black, the others were usually silver. The windows of his were tinted, and if he was low enough in the sky he could even open them, if he wanted to. It could hold one person— most individual pods could hold four. The seat was molded to fit him like a glove, there was extra legroom, he even had bottles of alcohol stored in here (and maybe some sordid drug paraphernalia, though he didn’t use very often).
January 10, 2025 at 2:03 AM
krovris.bsky.social
None of that could have possibly been put into their bodies without leaving even one scar-- these were macroscopic chunks of foreign matter!

And yet.

#WritingCommunity #sff #bipunk #writesky #amwriting

I love #WIPsnips because it forces me to edit my stuff. :D
You’d think he’d wake up knowing if Eight cut him open overnight. There would be bandages… blood? But he’d researched Eight’s legacy a thousand times, now. People would go on with their lives believing themselves cured after flocking to the Surgeon for help, and all the while there were ticking time bombs living in their blood, their organs. None of that could have possibly been put into their bodies without leaving even one scar-- these were macroscopic chunks of foreign matter! And yet.
January 7, 2025 at 9:35 PM
krovris.bsky.social
Key laughed again, high pitched and quick.

“Well, uhm, that’s a funny story!”

“Keep it short.”

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #snippetshare

(Key is the only person in this damn novel who knows how to drive a car 😩)
“What did you take?” it asked her, “Do you have any more of it?” “T-Take? Oh the uh, the nano substitute?” “What is it with you people and asking stupid fucking questions?” it snapped, “What did you take, do you have any left, and where did you buy it?” Key laughed again, high pitched and quick. “Well, uhm, that’s a funny story!” “Keep it short.” Key cleared her throat, glanced at Eight a moment before returning her eyes to the road. It was strange, sitting in a car with a driver— a driver who had to focus on driving. Bizarre, almost, that she couldn’t dare let her attention stray unless she wanted to accidentally careen the four of them into the side of a building. Eight preferred AI.
January 6, 2025 at 6:41 PM
krovris.bsky.social
“I’ll find a way to make him hate you.”

“And when you’re dead, he’ll get over it by nature of time itself. It’s a bit of an object permanence issue for normal people. Tragedies pass, and his pain fades. He forgives me. He always does.”

#WIPsnips #Writesky #sff #biopunk #WritingCommunity
“Being unable to understand someone’s…” and it gestured aimlessly, “… suffering, so to speak, is detrimental if I want to control them.” That made sense. Infinity, gripping the edges of the chair it was in, finally let go and crossed its legs, managing to squeeze its entire body onto the seat because of just how small it was. “And you’re letting him get attached to me, then,” said Infinity. “Oh, somewhat. I have no doubt he’ll be interested in your condition. And he’ll hold it against me very much when you die. But he’s as immortal as I am— functionally, at the least. His pain will fade; his worries, too, and nothing will change.” “I’ll change it,” Infinity said, “I’ll find a way to make him hate you.” “And when you’re dead, he’ll get over it by nature of time itself. It’s a bit of an object permanence issue for normal people. Tragedies pass, and his pain fades. He forgives me. He always does.”
January 6, 2025 at 6:09 PM
krovris.bsky.social
This is Neutrino but I call her Weenie. She’s the founder of weenie hut jr of course!
I was inspired to share a meow. #cats
White cat with black markings pawing at the air while looking off camera. The cat is lying on a beige carpet
January 4, 2025 at 10:45 AM
krovris.bsky.social
Bianca was talented, and her precision rivaled that of Eight’s. To the degree that Infinity, for all its inherent ability, was still incomparably shit.

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #sff #biopunk #amwriting #WIPsnips

(Turns out I have zero interesting snips so here’s BS science to the rescue!!)
Bianca was talented, and her precision rivaled that of Eight’s. To the degree that Infinity, for all its inherent ability, was still incomparably shit. Clearly she could take half of a brain and both map and reconnect it to biomechanical machinery in a single day. The fact that Infinity had hardly gotten through a fifth was… intimidating.
January 4, 2025 at 10:36 AM
krovris.bsky.social
But he couldn’t ask anymore— knew the answer would be ‘no’, knew that the only real solution to this moral quagmire was to either suck it up or leave. And he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #sff #biopunk #snippetshare

Wrote this yesterday! :D
He drank the coffee, stood there idle in the apartment, looking at the black screen of the TV. Thinking. Eight wasn’t here— probably was downstairs, though. Dennis didn’t want to know the details of its work. But there was always this reaffirmed truth: that Eight had not only taken up its mantle as a serial experimentalist, but was yet again actively conducting those experiments on living humans. Solely because it wanted to. And all to forge suffering from the flesh of the dying and desperate. But Dennis was desperate. All he could ever imagine asking of Eight would be his tireless plea that it change its day-to-day habits to include a little less homicide, pretty please? But he couldn’t ask anymore— knew the answer would be ‘no’, knew that the only real solution to this moral quagmire was to either suck it up or leave. And he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
January 3, 2025 at 10:28 PM
krovris.bsky.social
“But I know one thing. You’re not that resilient against blunt force trauma. How many times do you think I have to hit you in the head before you sustain incredibly severe brain damage?”

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #amwriting #sff #biopunk

I LOVE my antag, Calypso. She’s so much fun to write.
“I don’t know what you did to yourself, to get you this strong, this heavy, this durable,” Calypso said, and she chuckled, “But I know one thing. You’re not that resilient against blunt force trauma. How many times do you think I have to hit you in the head before you sustain incredibly severe brain damage?” As she hypothesized, Eight’s expression dropped to sheer, genuine horror, and it sat back in its seat. “We’ll just have to find out,” she said. “But… you heal quickly.” “Do I?” it asked in a low, bitter voice. “Can you heal around a bullet? A piece of lead stuck in your chest? I’m really interested, you know. How far you can go before your body just… gives up.”
January 3, 2025 at 9:43 PM
krovris.bsky.social
“And instead of treating someone who didn’t ask to be created with some common decency, you decide to use everything you hate about yourself to attack it. I cannot possibly explain to you how fucked that is!”

#WritingCommunity #Write-sky #sff #biopunk #amwriting #WIPsnips

Eight, go to therapy.
“This isn’t a very complicated situation,” Eight said, gentle, “I understand your point of view... I think. But Infinity isn’t a ‘child’. It is a fully grown Mind-- the same as I was when I woke up.” “And instead of treating someone who didn’t ask to be created with some common decency, you decide to use everything you hate about yourself to attack it. I cannot possibly explain to you how fucked that is!” He felt betrayed over this, didn’t he? As if they had some unspoken rule not to suddenly spawn fully grown people into existence! And yes, Dennis wanted to accept the halcyon lie that Eight hadn’t considered the comprehensive picture here, but he also wasn’t a sucker.
January 3, 2025 at 6:25 PM
krovris.bsky.social
“… Something changed you, and you passed on that change by cloning your brain. But I don’t have… reasoning, do I? I have only the result of your degradation. If I struggle here, if I give up… it’s because you would, too, isn’t it?”

#WritingCommunity #sff #amwriting #biopunk #Writesky #snippetshare
“I can’t do this,” it said softly. “Can’t you?” asked Eight, “Are you done, then? I could sit you down and put a bullet through your head. Have we gotten there?” “No!” but Infinity was was trembling too much all the same. “I don’t want to die. That’s kind of the point. But I am dying. I won’t make it even a single year, will I?” “No,” Eight said, “But you can make use of whatever time you have.” “Why would I want to contribute to your greatness only to die in the end for my trouble?” Eight walked over and snatched Infinity’s arm from its side. “You’re giving up.” “Didn’t you?” it asked, “When you were caught. You gave up— you must have. Something changed you, and you passed on that change by cloning your brain. But I don’t have… reasoning, do I? I have only the result of your degradation. If I struggle here, if I give up… it’s because you would, too, isn’t it?”
January 2, 2025 at 8:26 PM
krovris.bsky.social
The memory was not its own— something it could only recall like a dream of a dream, because the person who remembered it died so, so many decades ago.

#WritingCommunity #WIPsnips #amwriting #Writesky #sff #biopunk

This is old but also my favorite so OOPS.
It walked to the third door down the hall— another server room— and slid the door open. The doors here were made of walnut wood, but many who talked about such a material sixty or so years ago would have said it was a myth. Eight had been around when this building was first built just like other power stations in the Industrial Districts, and it managed at the time to sneak inside and take a look. The memory was not its own— something it could only recall like a dream of a dream, because the person who remembered it died so, so many decades ago. (It was standing outside in the cold, bundled in a thousand layers of clothes because its low body temperature was not necessarily by deisgn, at the time. It was sickly, dying surely, and had this opportunity to investigate. Shivering, stuttering, yet it got inside all the same. Blood wasn’t spilled that day but it would be— it would be—)
January 2, 2025 at 8:19 PM
krovris.bsky.social
December 2024! I was aiming for 80k this month, but I keep pushing the bar, so why not lol. 168k! And now I can enter 2025 with joy in my soul :D

Also it says ‘annual’ but it MEANS ‘monthly’!
You've tracked 168083 words! Congrats! Annual Totals Output (words) 168083 GOAL 160000 Left to Goal 8083
January 1, 2025 at 4:21 AM
krovris.bsky.social
“Good,” it muttered, “You want to know my reaction?”
“Yes.”
Eight looked at him, grinning.
“This is officially the best day of my life.”

#WritingCommunity #WIPsnips #Writesky #sff #biopunk
“I wasn’t done,” Dennis said after they’d been flying over this sad expanse for a bit. “But I wanted to know what you thought about that, out there.” Eight scanned the flattened horizon. “They razed the whole thing. Hah. How much concrete is that, Vogel? You know.” “It’s synthetic,” he replied, “I haven’t actually done the math on that. Good idea.” “I was joking.” “No you weren’t,” he replied, and his phone was out in a second. “By the way you excavated about half a mile of dirt in a ten mile radius— I mean, for the most part. The deepest bit was where they found you. But the rest of the district was destroyed as well, after the militia realized your base was too damaged to salvage.” “Good,” it muttered, “You want to know my reaction?” “Yes.” Eight looked at him, grinning. “This is officially the best day of my life.”
December 31, 2024 at 8:28 PM
krovris.bsky.social
… And it didn’t need to get very far through the beginning of said pattern for the girl to balk at Eight, sitting upright.

Hardly whispering, “Holy shit.”

“Hello, Morningstar.”

#WritingCommunity #snippetshare #sff #biopunk #amwriting
December 30, 2024 at 9:24 PM
krovris.bsky.social
How long had Eight spent across the summation of its life in the presence of other people like this? Trapped here within an inescapable situation, coupled with a powerful desire to leave this place and return to some semblance of lonesome peace.

#WritingCommunity #sff #WIPsnips #biopunk

Same tho.
Eight never had to deal with this bombastic, loud voice in the flesh or anything of the sort— and would absolutely love to go back to that arrangement as soon as possible. But there were deep bags beneath her eyes, desperation. “You’re not going to get it,” Dennis said slowly, evenly, “No matter what they tell you. You’re never going to see a single supply drop on behalf of the Archists.” Did Eight feel bad? “You talk like you think I’m stupid or somethin’. Pal, let me introduce you to reality.” “Please don’t try to tell me about the real world. You’re a child.” “I’m old enough to kick your ass, geriatric motherfucker.” No, Eight didn’t feel bad. It watched them talk, listened to her accent, heard the way Dennis tapped the edge of his phone against the desk. How long had Eight spent across the summation of its life in the presence of other people like this? Trapped here within an inescapable situation, coupled with a powerful desire to leave this place and return to some semblance of lonesome peace.
December 30, 2024 at 9:11 PM
krovris.bsky.social
“Well I’m sure there are very convincing actors out there. Incredibly manipulative parties, those with zero interest in the health and safety of the people around them. Don’t you think?”

#WritingCommunity #WIPsnips #Writesky #biopunk #sff

(Epoch is defined by the god of nonsensical decisions.)
“Yes, exactly!” he said, nodding, “I mean, put yourself in my shoes, for example. You’re faced with the most despicable person you’ve ever heard of. And that person, who could be credited with killing at least a billion people over the last few decades if not more— has the capacity to conduct itself like a civilized member of society. A lot of the terrible ones can’t even pretend to do that. Not for six months. Not while being tortured that whole time in the Underground.” “Well I’m sure there are very convincing actors out there. Incredibly manipulative parties, those with zero interest in the health and safety of the people around them. Don’t you think?” Its voice had gone cold and empty, and it was staring him down. Dennis had stilled as well, and now there was only this tense, frightening silence. Frightening for him. Eight was not afraid in that moment— though it might be later on, for saying something so reckless. “Yeah,” he said eventually, “But not everyone has access to common sense.”
December 29, 2024 at 10:58 PM
krovris.bsky.social
What was far more interesting to watch was the way the transport docked to the pressurized walkway, glass sliding and shifting to seal the entire floating cab into a large extension of the glass partition.

#WritingCommunity #Writesky #biopunk #sff #snippetshare
December 29, 2024 at 10:40 PM