FatherCalcium

No more terrible than I.

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Machine Spirit. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Machine Spirit.

System initiating... Bootstrapping... Loading... Loading... System check [3/2,464 systems online] Main power cells... Nominal Auxiliary power cells... Nominal Calibrating onboard targeting... Nominal Calibrating autoloader... Calibrating... Nominal Checking armament sub-processes... Nominal Checking independent suspensions... Nominal With a sigh the man pulled his head away from the console. The blue glow coming off the screen stung John's eyes every time he did the routine system check. The software was old, and much harder to use than the newer versions. Even then it was far from outdated, having served for many cycles as the general AI-

The Troll part 3. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Troll part 3.

Gazing out the round window beside his favorite bookshelf, the troll looked out at the field outside. It was a bright day, and his flowers were looking lovely as always. The troll was rather fond of tulips. The area leading up to his hut was absolutely covered with the bright flowers. He liked the colors they displayed (the yellow/red hybrids were his favorite) and often made a point to send visitors off with a few bulbs they could plant in their own gardens. For as long as the troll could remember he had always been partial to them, unlike the majority of his kinsfolk. He knew there was an ogre or two who liked daisies and roses, but no

Bones like stones. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Bones like stones.

In a mountainous land far, far away there once lived a not-so fearsome beast. He hid in a small cave at the foot of some mountains, and from his cave he could see a great river and yet more mountains beyond that. From the bank of the river to his mountains was barren, with no trees or bushes to see. Every so often a herd of deer would wander by, but they didn't stay long. Wolves and bears came through as well, but they hardly every had nice things to say or do. The beast left them all alone, however. He didn't care for them, because they didn't care for him either. Long days were spent sleeping in his cave. He paid no heed to other beasts, for they didn't interest him. Rather, not anymore they didn't. For a time he had paid attention to another. His cave always seemed warm and inviting with the other. But one day the other went away to where he could not reach them. He stopped sleeping in favor of looking for them, but gave up after a time. Crestfallen, the beast came back to his

Lacuna by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Lacuna

Returning once more to a throne long abandoned, I dust the lingering silence from my clothes. The space about me rings with the echoes of a newly forgotten figure, hazy memories that refuse to leave. Shaking my head to be ridden of these images I rest now in resignation and defeat, helpless to stop an oncoming tide of regret and doubt. Perhaps more could have been done, or everything that could have been was. It matters little now, as the moment has passed. All that remains is to succumb to the throne or to abandon it yet again. For a time I’ll remain, but soon it will be empty again. Such is the pattern and way of the thing. A cold an

The Book of Ryu, Testament One. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Book of Ryu, Testament One.

In the Time Before Time there was the nothingness. This lasted mere moments before the Everything sprang into being. From the Depths of Creation arose many Mighty Beings, and they were powerful each in their own right. Among these first souls resided the Twisted and Warped one: He who was Oni. His reach was long and his influence wide, and with terrible power he crafted for himself a realm of Hedonism and Debauchery. Many beings of lesser power joined under him, and they too spread about the seed of upheaval and rot. Long was his reign unchallenged, until there arose from the nothingness another being. And His name was Ryu, and He was just.

Omnes Interficere by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Omnes Interficere

Darkness lay about me. The chest that contained me was old, the locks that sealed it had been built by hands long since rotten away. From inside the confines of my gilded crypt I could hear the sounds of fire, of bloodshed raging in the world around. They mattered not to me, for what did fire and death mean to me, one who could not be harmed by man. I felt the fear, the hatred, and the pure ecstasy of those who were fighting and dying outside. Memories stirred within me, ones I'd thought long forgotten. Memories of wars the likes of which would never be seen again on this earth. Those wars so old they shaped the very face of the land they too

Bees have many knees by FatherCalcium, literature

The Troll, part two by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Troll, part two

While he kept to himself, the old troll sometimes got visitors (unasked for mostly, but he was always polite) that had not intended to end up at his little hut. Most of the time is was someone bringing a gift of fruit or bread in return for taking care of their children, but sometimes it was just someone looking to actually meet the troll face to face. He didn’t mind, and if they had interesting things to say he would trade them work in his garden for a tale or two. Since his garden was so small (it was really quite large, but then again he was a large troll) he appreciated having small hands to work on it for him. After a few hours o

The Troll by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Troll

If you go far enough beyond the outskirts of the town Kelnir, chances are you may find nothing. If you go in the right direction however, you might find yourself in front of a large stone hut, hidden away among ancient oaks. Around the hut are minute carved stone statues, depicting the dragon gods of the directional winds. Akoth of the North, Ghtor of the West, Hrael of the South, and Virng of the East. By the door of the hut was a well tended garden of bright mountain flowers, kept in by a small stone border. A small stream runs by the hut, gurgling over smooth rocks, winding down towards the lake farther down in the valley. Above the entra

Things. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Things.

A thing can be like another thing, and that thing can be akin to the first thing. But some things do not like to be the same as the other things, and so they are a thing unto themselves. Although they may be a thing alone, in their solitude they are alike. This means that those things are the same as other things, if only because they have nothing to share. What happens when a thing has everything to share, I wonder? Does that thing become alone again? Because it has all the things, the thing would be alone, it seems. No two things are exactly alike, indeed. A thing is a thing, and that is the thing. The things do not pretend to be anything m

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Machine Spirit. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Machine Spirit.

The Troll part 3. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Troll part 3.

Bones like stones. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Bones like stones.

Lacuna by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Lacuna

The Book of Ryu, Testament One. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Book of Ryu, Testament One.

Omnes Interficere by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Omnes Interficere

Bees have many knees by FatherCalcium, literature

The Troll by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

The Troll

Things. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Things.

Dance for the dead. by FatherCalcium, literature

Literature

Dance for the dead.

Partake of the dance, The dance for those long gone. See the night spin 'round you, Feel the drink in your body. That rhythm you know, That feeling in your bones. A humble bow before the crowd, Ghosts murm'ring, Skeletons chattering, You must soothe the pain. Feel their memories flood you. Falter not, you owe them this, This dance for the dead. The earth hums 'neath your feet. Come the break of dawn, The dance be done. Until then, You are the one, And the dance must be done.

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About FatherCalcium

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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature

June 18, 1999
United States
Deviant for 8 years
He / Him

My Bio

Howdy! My name's Nac, I do literature (occasionally.)

I'm mostly on dA using the stash feature to work on some personal projects of mine, so you won't see me posting too often any more. Getting rid of the ability to make new writing projects with sta.sh kind of removed a lot of my drive to write new things. That being said, I have a handful of pieces I already uploaded to the site! You are more than welcome to look through them all, but be warned; they range from absolute trash (looking at YOU, Lacuna) to surprisingly good (Machine Spirit) and my quality and style of writing has changed over my several years on the platform. Sometime in the near(ish) future I will begin uploading the first few chapters of my pet project, but for now I'm just poking around.

You can contact me on discord @ Papa Bones#1728 for questions, comments, critiques, and concerns. Other than that my notes should be open to messages.

Favourite Visual Artist

Wayne Barlowe

Favourite Movies

Seven Samurai, Yojimbo, The Thirteenth Warrior

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Stoned Jesus, David Bowie, Yung Bae, Macross 82-99

Favourite Books

Elric of Melnibone, the Xanth series, and a handful of others.

Favourite Games

Monster Hunter: World, Skyrim, DnD, Darkest Dungeon

Favourite Gaming Platform

PC, but I'm getting into TTRPGs as of late.