Writing by Color-changing Concepts

The blog of the author known as Color-changing Concepts. I will release my works here.

[colorchangingconcepts]

Writing Website

I'll also be posting my novel on my spiffy Neocities website. I love that sweet, sweet retro 2000s web aesthetic. Check it out here. 🦕🦕🦕

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The first twenty pages of my novel have been uploaded on my neo cities. There is a button to turn off the eye straining layout.

This is a scifi-fantasy story about a group of people who get justice against a magical cult that trafficked them.

[prokopetz]

“I’m afraid it’s over, doctor. We’ve seen through your sinister plot.”

“It’s not a plot, you uneducated fool – it’s a scheme.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A plot is defined by political intrigue as a central feature, whereas a scheme is defined by its complexity. You can have a straightforward plot or an apolitical scheme, but not vice versa. This is a scheme.“

“I thought if it was complex it’s a machination.”

“No, it’s a machination if it’s artful. I’ve never much cared for artfulness; for example, this conversation isn’t artful at all, yet it’s kept you occupied long enough for the next phase of my scheme to come into play – just as I’d planned!”

“Your scheme depended on me not knowing what a scheme is?”

“Wheels within wheels, old friend.”

[smythercakes]

Do you ever fear that you’ll run out of ideas one day?

[prokopetz]

You’re asking me whether I’m concerned that the English language will one day run out of things to be pedantic about.

[digitaldiscipline]

*about which to be pedantic

[prokopetz]

The “rule” that an English sentence may not end in a preposition was invented by uptight grammarians in the 17th Century out of a misguided belief that English syntax ought to more closely resemble that of Latin. In reality, preposition stranding is a common feature of the Germanic language family, and its putative prohibition in standard English is both anomalous and ahistorical.

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PAGE 005 CHAPTER ONE Abdicate the Tower ~+++~

Isla leaned against the stone railing at the bottom of the platform. She stared darkly out at the river, lost in the orange-gray light pollution above the city. She felt herself slightly untense as she focused on the feeling of the water-tinged breeze on her skin.

A subtle noise brought Isla out of her trance. She turned to find her colleague, Iori, emerging from the riverside path on the opposite side of the platform. Isla found herself politely smiling at the familiar sight of her co-worker; the expression was automatic, mechanistic - as though it were another day at work.

“Hey, Iori,” said Isla in a calm tone that was at odds with how hollow she felt inside. “Is anyone else with you?”

“I aerobiked out here, so I’m probably the last to get here,” said Iori, slightly out of breath. “I’m alone.”

Isla took a moment to appreciate her colleague’s bioluminescent markings. Iori was an orxeinamph: a type of creature that resembled an anthropomorphic tiger. They had dark fur and bioluminescent tiger-stripe markings. They had a third eye in the center of their forehead that was bioluminescent. Iori’s markings were highly saturated purples, greens, cyans, and blues. Her two conventional tiger-like eyes were fluorescent purple; her third eye was neon seafoam-cyan. Orxei were not common in Glass Heights - or anywhere else in Isla’s world. They hailed from an adjacent reality.

In contrast to Iori, the most colorful aspect of Isla’s appearance were the red and blue highlights in her hair, makeup, and clothing - all artificial accents. Isla’s personal sense of fashion compelled her to pair bright red together with bright blue.

***

Webversion:

https://phosphorescent.neocities.org/mazeofstarlitpaths

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Page 004 - Maze of Starlit Paths

As Isla approached the end of the bridge, she stopped to take in her surroundings. Towering glass buildings and mostly-unlit houses stood still and silent in front of her. Dark trees and bushes shifted and creaked slightly in the night’s warm breeze. A bright central district glowed distantly down the street; faraway noise and the smell of grilled food emanated from that direction. 

The iridescent-blond hair and innocent, soft face of her childhood friend, Pearl, flashed inside her mind.

What a funny time to think of Pearl.

But it wasn’t, not really - Isla had been thinking of Pearl a lot lately. It wasn’t really surprising that she would think of her now, even though the two had never been in Glass Heights together. They had spent many nights together talking the hours away - talking about anything and everything.

Isla stepped off the bridge and cut sharply to the right. A barely visible dirt path took Isla down a steep hill along the edge of the Navigation River- covered by the darkness of trees on both sides of the path- before depositing her at a stone platform that looked out at the river.

The platform appeared to be old; the stone it was composed of was smooth from years of wear. Two picnic benches sat underneath a stone gazebo; behind the gazebo, a metal staircase wound up a tree-covered hill. Saturn Tower stood radiantly at the top of the hill, lights dancing in a minority of its windows despite the late hour. Jupiter Tower, an almost identical tower that housed the applied sciences departments, glowed across the street - partially visible behind Saturn Tower.

Such a beautiful display.

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smiling near the front of the shot. A neuraic brain map hovered to the side of him, glowing different shades of neon red.

Isla was in the back of the video, turning from a small glowing model of the brain to smile in the direction of the camera. Isla recognized the moment from the previous academic year.

I had no idea what was happening then.

Isla watched as one of her lab’s primary investigators, Dr. Cohen, began to explain their lab’s research.

“We study consciousness here in Saturn Tower’s lab 708,” said the tan, freckled woman. Her hair was dirty blond and naturally curly. “We are a part of the university’s basic science program in the College of Neuro-scifantasies.”

Scifantasy, the juxtaposition of science and magick. The methodical study of reality using an empirical application of magick-or-mundane means.

Numbness began to take hold inside of Isla once more. Isla walked past the archway holding the screen as Dr. Cohen began to give a layperson's summary of how they used complex aetherics to understand the brain.

I’m going to scream if I have to look at Dr. Ersatz again.

“...and then we used a two-step atomistrual process to map the functional and anatomical dimensions of the brain…” continued Dr. Cohen, her voice receding in the distance as Isla walked progressively farther away.

“I probably don’t need an education on my own lab,” said Isla softly to herself as the sound from the illuminated board echoed behind her.

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and blue) hair. A sense of terror hung in the back of her mind - harsh white noise that kept her thoughts in a straight and narrow path. 

When did terror become my defining state?

A sense of a vast emotional burden came over her; the answer occurred to her the moment she asked it of herself.

Isla began walking without engaging with the answer. 

There is a time and place for navel-gazing. It’s not now.

A large, glowing screen hung from a brick archway in the center of the bridge. The shifting light from the video bounced around, peppering Isla’s surroundings with flashes of dancing light. Isla paused as her university’s familiar logo- a glass house with Saturn behind it bookended by three stars on either side- splashed across the screen. The university’s slogan phased into existence in cyan letters beneath the logo. “Ad astra per scientiam.” 

Glass Heights University is the only one that rents this mystic board.

Isla felt a small twinge of- dissonant?- feelings as the glittering Saturn Tower flashed across the screen - feelings so miniscule against her sense of numbness that they may not have existed at all. 

On the illuminated screen, varying groups of humans and mythics stood in different rooms filled with scientific and mystical instruments - clearly the staff of different labs in Saturn Tower. Isla recognized about a third of the labs that flashed across the big screen.

An electric feeling of sharp emotional pain- nearly indistinguishable from physical pain- shot through her chest as her lab flashed across the screen. Dr. Ersatz was

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Page 1

Chapter One

Abdicate the Tower

~+++~

Isla stared blankly at the brick bridge that led from the heart of downtown Glass Heights to one of the city’s developed islands - Emerald Island, the jewel of the Navigation River. Misty orange light pollution hung above the city, eerie and dissonant. Just beyond the bridge, the island’s buildings- built in the modern glass style that characterized much of the (aptly named) city- glowed amongst the darkness of the luscious plant life that populated the (also aptly named) island. Even at 3 in the morning, the island showed signs of life; portions of the nearly transparent glass buildings were awash with light and distant flashes of movement. The shopping district in the center of the island was faintly visible as colorful neon lights and moving traffic.

I envy their auspicious reasons for being awake at this bleak hour.

It was a strange view - the juxtaposition of technology and nature. She found herself appreciating it in spite of herself.

A scene worth appreciating; the kind of sight for which you drop the past and future to step into the present - just for one brief, ethereal moment.

Emphasis on the word ‘brief’.

Sometimes I wish I could stretch moments like this into infinity, but I think I’d actually hate that too.

Isla drew her focus back to the present. The bridge’s well-lit walkway stood still and silent in the streetlights. Light glittered in Isla’s long black (highlighted with neon red

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PHASE 1

Falling Modularity

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Maze of Starlit Paths

Color-changing Concepts

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I am going to publish some or maybe all of my novel chapter by chapter here. When I finish it, I'll offer an ebook or traditional book option on Amazon. Hope you enjoy. This is a very meaningful project for me; maybe others will find some meaning in it, too.