Cyberpunk Dystopia - Tumblr Posts

mysticstarlightduck

5 months ago

WIP Trailer Tag!

Thank you so much for the tag, @illarian-rambling!!! I love this idea. I'll make a few of these because this tag has got me inspired, but let's start with a movie trailer for Scrapyard Boys!

Rules: Make a movie trailer for your WIP

[Opening scene. The camera pans over a sprawling cyberpunk city, neon lit skyscrapers reaching high up in the sky and a deep underbelly carved into the ground below, hovercars flying around in the airways in a constant buzz. In the background, How Did You Love by Shinedown, plays as the soundtrack]

A young man with long brown hair is standing on a darkened rooftop, clad in black clothes, his eyes snake green and vicious as he overlooks the city below, a hologram flickering from his wrist computer with the coordinates of his next target. A voice - presumably his - speaks in the background, "This city, it's a killer. (bitter chuckle) People like us - mutants - are cattle, nothing more than curious little lab rats."

[The scene shifts again multiple times, showcasing different individuals in the same city: ]

a boy in his late teens, with volumous golden hair, his style akin to a grunge rockstar, running from the city enforcers with a mischievous smile on his face - he reaches a dead end, and when it seems the soldiers were about to shoot him down, electricity crackles from his fingertips, and the kid disappears into the power grid of a nearby building, travelling in the speed of sound. He pops out of the power grid on the other side of the block, having lost his pursuers, adjusting his denim vest before running further downtown, flipping a middle finger in the direction of where he'd left the enforcers behind.

in the heart of an underworld strip club, the camera pans to one of the performers as he walks out of the stage and into the dressing room, wearily lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag of it, letting the smoke pour out of his mouth after holding it in for longer than he should. He checks his holo-phone, and news about PHANTOM Labs and the new crackdown on mutant youths fill the screen. With a frustrated growl, he kicks the chair in front of the vanity, then leans in front of the mirror in anger, white knuckled. The camera briefly shows us a glimpse of his phone's lock screen, which has a picture of him standing beside two teens, twins with white hair and glowing blue eyes (the teens are his siblings) as the background.

a seventeen year old with long, purple streaked brown hair that flows in the wind, explores an abandoned warehouse with a flickering flashlight. She adjusts her glasses as she looks around, searching for something. The scene cuts to her reaching one of the warehouse's old storage rooms, where she ruffles through cabinets and lockers, eventually finding a cracked vial with the remnants of a strange, bioluminescent blue fluid. She scribbles something into a worn, almost overflowing journal, pocketing the vial into her backpack and then promptly leaving the building once she hears approaching footsteps.

a holographic outdoor flies over the city, blaring out warning news about a rogue mutant - showing his picture, a pale teenager with charcoal black hair and pitch black eyes - from the Spectre Academies, urging action for his capture. The camera pans to a shadowy alley between two buildings, where a hooded figure glares at the floating outdoor, holding onto the edge of a nearby wall before disappeaing into the shadows behind him.

[Flashes of ominous underground labs, with sterile white walls and the blood chilling whirring of a bone saw, mingle with scenes set in the throes of the city's upper echelons, a glittering gala, filled with impeccably dressed millionaires and outrageously tacky styles of clothing, like a twisted run away. In the gala, a strong, hulking middle aged man - the host - is talking to his associates, shaking their hands with a sinister smile on his face. He seems to appear dangerously charismatic, his demeanor hinting at a hidden strenght that wouldn't hesitate to maim anyone in his way, but he is also manipulative, and for all effects and purposes, seems to be playing the part of the philantrophe rich guy. The camera pans to the symbol on his brooch, his company's sigil, before the scene flashes back to the lab, where a woman in her fifties, dressed in a white hazmat suit more akin to a futuristic astronout gear, pours her attention over a vial that contains a sickly yellowish green substance that seems almost alive - and the biohazard symbol on the hermetic door behind her confirms that it is probably an engineered virus. Meanwhile, on another chamber of the labs, a tall, gaunt man with slicked back brown hair and a bloodstained white lab coat stands over what appears to be a person - a mutant - strapped to a metal chair. The scientist's back is turned to the camera, but there's a shrill buzz of some kind of contraption, blood splatters onto the ground and the wall, and a devastating scream from whoever is strapped to that table fills the room before the scene cuts out.]

The video goes back to that same long haired young assassin from the beginning, walking into an abandoned parking lot in a plateau. In the distance, there's the muted sound of faraway explosions as an empty building crumbles in a fiery heap. He clicks his wrist watch, an X appearing over the picture of his former target - signalling he completed his mission.

There's a scoff, and his voice cuts through the soundtrack and sounds of the trailer once more. He isn't speaking on the scene, but its clear that its his voice on the background, "But every system has its flaws - and if this city wants to play with lives, we might as well do the same. A kill for a kill, one might say."

[As the trailer behins to reach its end and the flashing scenes slow down along with the final stretch of the song, Adahm - the young assassin - appears in front of what seems to be an improvised hideout. Valen, the blond teenager from the beginning, the one with the electrical powers, steps out, arms crossed, as he glares at the newcomer]

"Who the fuck are you?" Valen asks, scanning Adahm up and down, the soundtrack now almost silent.

Adahm shrugs with a cold smirk, unreadable, "The enemy of your enemy. I have an offer to make. You up for it?"

[Closing Scene: Valen's eyes narrow, and while he still looks suspicious of Adahm, there's the silent implication that he is interested to hear whatever he has to say. The trailer ends right before he can ask his question, leaving the audience on a cliffhanger.]

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Scrapyard Boys below the cut 🧪

Scrapyard Boys Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale @wyked-ao3

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

Tags :

wip scrapyard boys wip trailer tag writeblr writers writers on tumblr writerblr my wips writing character writing my characters my writing cyberpunk stories cyberpunk dystopia superhero superhero stories dystopian writing

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mysticstarlightduck

5 months ago

Writing Share Tag!

I wanted to share a snippet of the backstory scene I'm working on for Jordan and Chase from Scrapyard Boys, so here we go! Be warned it is bleak.

PHANTOM Labs Holding Facility, 6 years ago

"Experiment 551 - you have been selected for the next batch of cybernetic enhancement procedures. Head to the operating room immediately."

Inside the cold, sterile cell they called a room, Chase felt his blood run cold. For a moment, the air seemed to still, as if a vacuum had sucked out all life around him into an empty void. He could hear his heart thundering in his chest, his pulse ringing behind his ears ominously like a ringing phone - he had always feared this day would come. And now… it had.

A part of him wanted to scream, to plead and cry on his knees, anything to get out of this nightmare, to keep the integrity of his body, to not be changed into one of the labs twisted creations. But he knew it wouldn't do them any good. The scientists wouldn't listen, they never did. His pleas would fall on deaf ears, as if he were mere cattle - which, for all effects and purposes, he already was. Chase chewed his lip, trying to breathe, but unable to. If he showed any sign of defiance, the scientists could turn their attention to Jordan, and choose his cousin instead of him for their sick games.

He couldn't allow that.

The scientist standing by the door watched him, unamused. "Experiment 551 I expect an answer. It is protocol." The woman prodded, her voice cold, calculating, completely detached from the fact that she was requesting a literal teenager to sign up for the demise of the person he was, of his spirit, right now. Or even to his possible demise, given the 50% death rates all those procedures had.

As if he had a choice in the matter to begin with.

Chase took in a shaky breath, his long, lanky fingers digging into the edge of the hard cot he was sitting down on. In the corner of the room, he could see Jordan, his twelve year old cousin, watching them with wide, horror-stricken eyes. The boy's usually pale face now looked whiter than the paint coating the walls around them, and he could tell Jordan wanted to interfere, to say something, but the words kept dying on his throat much like they did on his.

Not giving the kid a chance to intervene, nor the scientist the time to grow annoyed, Chase nodded, firmly, his eyes now glued onto the woman standing by the door, her face unchanged. "I-" His voice broke, and he had to try again, "Of course, Handler." He finally responded, words barely more than a defeated whisper.

The scientist acknowledged his response with a hum, straightening her lab suit and typing something onto a holographic screen floating in front of her like a clipboard, before it disappeared into thin air with a beep. That beep might as well have sounded like a guillotine's blade falling onto his neck, with the way it kicked the air out of his lungs, the finality of it all making Chase's skin crawl. "Good." She answered, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her waxy red lips, before it was swallowed by cold professionalism, "Then get moving."

Chase willed his legs to move, no matter how they felt like jello beneath him, or how the room seemed to spin around him like a twisted merry-go-round. With a trembling, faltering hitch in his breath, he managed to stand up, leaving the pseudo-safety of the hard cot and walking up to the scientist by the door as swiftly as he could. He knew the drill. So, without the woman needing to say a word, he extended his arms forward to be cuffed.