Octet of skittering in these old halls


{"If love is under siege, it is because it threatens the very essence of commercial civilization. Everything is designed to make us forget that love is our most vivid manifestation and the most common power of life that is in us. Shouldn't we wonder how the lights that glimmer in the eye can blow a fuse for a time, even as barriers of oppression break and jam our passions? Yet despite a life stunted and distorted by mediated Spectacle, nothing has ever managed to strip love of its primal force. Although the heart's music fails to overwhelm the cacophony of profit efficiency, bit by bit it composes our destinies, according to tones, chords, and dissonances which render us happy if only we learn to harmonize the scattered notes that string emotions together" ~ Raoul Vaneigem... Today's post is an entry to @archdruid's 80s contest for a game revealed down below. This post is the second to last post I shall make before I leave Steemit permanently. I will consider giving out my Discord tag to people if yah ask nicely <3... None for today’s music-aides.}

C64 (Commodore 64) artwork for Montezuma’s Revenge, developed by Utopia Software

- Octet of skittering in these old halls -

"C’mon Veronica, c’mon just land this one right and!-"



"Ow! Why you hit me that for, Valerié?"

"Sorry, lemme kiss it. Feel better now, Veronica?"

"Not really... Died by falling into the pit of lava."

"Oh well, we’ll get better luck next time."

"And at least we managed to get through ten temples in one sitting."

"Must be a new world record!"

With the tussling of skirts as they arose, hands swept off the grains of dust and food crumbs they’ve accumulated. A sly of giggles from the two whence their hands patted the dust from their backs, their lips morphed together after a pause of silence fell upon them. Disconnecting, their hands still melted together as they walked away after the common room was tidied up.

A door creaking shut, a so the only noise that remained amongst the dark was the skittering octet of legs. Prancing about, those dots for eyes captured everything and knew the time to move was now. If the winds let the ships sailed, the adrenaline of a free space compelled adventure.

A small blaring of hissing, the octet of legs scanned the unfamiliar texture of the untucked keyboard. Following the cable to the computer monitor, her dotty eyes gleamed at the many million pixels on the computer screen. An electric jolt zapped about, the legs skittered away; then more jolts announced themselves and soon the computer sounded on. Upon the final jolt, a lightning arc consumed the spider and the screen flashed

[Now I shall have my revenge, Panama Joe!]


The constitution of byte-sized zaps ringed across the moldy-pixelated cobblestone hallways, each zap bringing a sprite-parts of the spider to life. Fully reconstituted, the sprite-spider waddled around but felt the stiff awkwardness of pixels reforming all over the place. But the pixelated limbs stabbed through the cobbly ground, as the spidery hairs sensed and heard the distorted-electro noises mucking about in the temple.

An electro-explosion through the moldy walls and out appeared a floating skull decorated in all sorts of tattoos. Though the spider was skittering away from the skull, the archipelago of eyes on the spidery forehead saw the damaged walls spazzing and shifting in and out of the temple. A new midi played, yet it only vibrates those spidery hairs even more making it skitter away faster. A pixel-leg stepping into the void boundaries, the skull’s slow chase just further glitched the temple and the spider pounced away into the dark.

However, a new room loaded and saved the spider from the unloaded void. Ignoring the massive electro-pains, the pixely-spiderly legs scrammed away from the skull as it soon entered the room. The skull’s jawbone sinusoidally opening and closing, random shrieking noises for laughter left its mouth. Even so, the spider sprite scuttled away fast enough in the rooms to bash into ralls to realize the new two-dimensional realm they both were in. Figuring a key hole in the room’s door, the spider waddled and bumped into a key before flashing seeing the key-sprite flashed away.

Taking the risk and the skull hot on the tail of the spinnerets of the poor spider, the arachnid limbs struck the door and vaulted open it had. However the skull phased through the opening and struck the spider, sending the captured pixelated arachnid into suspension around glitchy room barriers. The skull’s sprite popping into existence, the circumbalation of the skull around the arachnid started slow. Yet the skull shot a puzzled look that the spider-sprite couldn’t see but sense seeing its sprite shifting forms.

"WhO-oooo-o ARE yOu, yOu ARE not Panama Joe! WhO C=c-careS, i’M SETTING you FR-fr-free - I didn’t CoME THIS FAR TO SINK SO low! ObJECTive: KILL Panama Joe!"

Losing sight to the abyss to regain a flurry of pixelated colours, the spider wasn’t allowed to enjoy the ecstasy as the sprite became complex and grew in size. The cobbly-molded walls screaming in electro-distorted pains, the sprite shrunk and the walls stopped bulging. The buzzing pains zipping past the abdomen, the dotty eyes glew red and saw an overview of the entire room on will.

A blip appeared, pulsating every second somewhere across the map; in movement already did the temple rang a series of beeps. Rooms constructing within the vision of eye archipelago, the vibrating sensations ever echoed into those hairs and so did the memory theatre kick into motion. With the dripping damp, the memories so raged on and scenes of the lovely pair of two played on.

With each step, with each room, with each door, all reconstituting the blip on the map. Like a beating heart, the spider’s eyes couldn’t shake the feeling that the blip so acted like the human friends. Seeing on the overview the blip halting and waldling back and forth, nothing could dare say otherwise. Seeing the blip bounce and above the stage she was in, her pixelated spiderly legs springing her body crash through the pixelated cobblestone.

Finally seeing the blip’s true form, Panama Joe, in that pixely flesh, the order ignored. Jousting the glitching cobblestone as a platform, the spider’s hairs sensed only the lava sprite and no death noise was to be heard. Springing the debris off, she trailed behind Panama Joe controlled by that lovely pair. Happily skirring around, her hairs sensed the electro-distortion and the temple’s great rumble.

Seeing a skull icon appear on the overview, it chased not her but drifted towards Panama Joe’s direction. Her legs began slamming through the temple walls, a pixelated race against the clock. Distortions formed in her wake, enemies trampled by the stomping of legs, the midi of distorted noises bouncing all about her hairs that heard it all and beating the pace of the skull. Her eyes seeing the skull icon in the same room as Panama Joe, her spinnerets sprouted out a swinging web and her body swung forth.

With the screams of a thousand glitching pixels, the spider’s legs jousted the piece of floor rubble upwards. The skull still in chase, its screams soon the noise pollution of the room. Legs piercing the ground and back to Panama Joe, those dark eyes saw the void in the floating son of a bee. And yet a pixelated hand firmly supported the entrenchment of the spider, only a shudder had the spider produce in-herself. And yet the spider’s eyes saw a message spazzing on the overview map:

"Is it you, Shelob? Whatever the case, let’s defeat this cursed entity!"

Launching the legs up, the cursed skull feeling the pounding of an octet of legs. The radio shrieks increasing in intensity with each successive pounding, yet the fury coursing through the spider only growing and spiriting faster. The skull’s cracks growing prouder and deeper, yet the skull’s jawbone dropped and out came a flurry of force-flinging screams. So deep had the screams penetrated that their sprites flashed red constantly.

Retreating to another room, the spider’s legs smash-collapsed the doorway allowing their bodies to rest for once. The spider squatting and sprite-controlled Panama Joe standing guard nearby, more text flashed across the overview map; however the Spider’s eyes were scanning for the skull icon - not even a pulse anywhere. Scanning the text:

"Okay, we’re safe now but we’re gotta hurry. We’ll go through the exit and pull yah out through there; we’ll do the same for that skull and battle it in real-life. Hold on tight!~"

A mass of darkness befallen on her spidery body, the spur of lights soon plagued all about her. Vision going from pixels to a familiar texture that so tingled her hairs that her body couldn’t wait to skitter-dance all about. Reconstituted into her old self, her mind wondered about where her upgrades had gone to. Yet feeling the re-growth all over again, her body didn’t felt being sandwiched in by the walls.

More so, she managed to cease growing half-way through. But before another skitter-dance could take place, the lesbian pair glew before her archipelago of eyes. She could see in the glowing brightness the change of clothes from the school uniforms into military attire of long skirts, camouflage blouses and pilotka side covers.

"Shelob, are you ready? We’ve been trying to find this computer-borne virus hacking into everybody’s softwares. But I bet it won’t see this coming!"

Thrusting their hands forth, Shelob’s eyes watched as sparks flew in between the C64 and their fingertips. Giving a simple smack of the lips to each other, feeling a pull from the electric tethers and out their hands began yanking like a wild bull in a rodeo. Scanning the entire room and sensing the pulses from all the lights flickering and the ground squirming around, Shelob’s legs stabbed the ground and out did it gave a quick scream.

The pixelated skull finally appeared on the tele and Shelob’s eyes watched as the screen stretched like wet gum pulled by two hands. But yet the electric death scream of the C64 slinged the skull forward in a ashen-smoky fashion. Being pinballed around, the lesbian pair tried to smack it but off by an inch was their smacks. And so Shelob’s spinnerets kicked into motion and sprayed out tons of webs, eventually netting the still raging pixelated skull.

Climbing up the web, her legs clamped unto and torqued the skull as her spinnerets began entrapping the skull in a maze of spider silk. Applying the last string, her legs hoisted the skull and slammed it across the floor; soon the boots of the pair playing with the doomed skull as a fütbal. With each kicking pressure, the skull began to bursting into more and more rays of electricity before the pair kicked the skull to the air and crushed it in between their thighs.

With a wave of light dousing the room, Shelob threw herself unto them and shielded them from the explosion. Yet, with every passing second, she only felt the increasing tension from her tummy as the women began coursing their arms of their housemate spider. Nuzzling their heads as she shrank down to size, they picked her up as their bodies began to self-erect and freely move once more. The group of three scanning the room, nothing from the ordinary dared appeared before their eyes and so their bodies laid upon the floor with the arms extended as support.

"Well, we all did a good job."

"Good job?!?! We practically stopped only one computer-borne viruses outta many-"

"Well, the rest are taken care of by other fellow comrades. Probably smartly done with cyber-defense folks, others probably with the thunder of lead raining upon a hardware whence captured."

"But can a virus really be stopped by shooting at a piece of hardware?"

"Ineffective and not recycling a good piece of hardware, but yes you could stop a trail from going any further. Anywho, we stopped a living agent that travelled across the electron pipes; thus, we’d helped averted a disaster."

"Helped yes, but what if there were more clones. And what about other functions and other intelligence and sabatuering that could be done as of this moment?"

"HISS! HISS!... I can speak finally, yay!~ Anyways, it’s not like worrying alone will solve problems; we must worry, but we must be able to know how to solve it as well... anyways, how what we gonna do next?"

"Well, let’s re-transform back to our old uniforms and maybe get some ice-cream. What we do tomorrow will depend upon the World’s woes. Yet we got our own and we should always ensure our spirits are high before we help to lift others."

With a glaze of light, the pair of three headed out and they let the whistling winds accompany their lofty stroll to wherever the wind travelled.


Two things: This is the second to last post I will make on this account for, basically, ever and I will probably make a medium/blogger account to dump future writings I do (philosophy, poetry, prose). The platform burnout is still real and I will be delegating my SP so it can be used when I am gone. Just a word of advice, the economic slump period is the worst time to post and my account is proof of such with people barely seeing my content and I barely got graced by economic power voters. And like the sands of Egypt, instead of dusting away to a billion places in sadness, I happily choose to let the sand bury and decompose me; I died on my own terms and this account will have its eternal slumber when I make an entry to the #electricdreams contest.

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I feel positively SOAKED in the energy that seeps from this orgy of metre and timbre and image. Three times now I have read it, and had to stop, and read parts of it aloud to my Thai garden and the sparrows nesting up high in the eaves.

*"...the archipelago of eyes on the spidery forehead saw the damaged walls spazzing and shifting in and out of the temple.."

The musician in me want to say this is a jazz composition, meant for dark corners, neat whiskey and a warm, sticky night.

Enjoyed, savoured, inspired. Gratitude from Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand, where we find all too many tourist-trash novels and the internet is our salvation.


UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments!!!!

I very much love tapping and utilizing the unconscious elements of writing, especially as a Jester wishing to struggle against the "short-attention-span" condition found on online spaces. But that sounds adorable yet equally beautiful you've done that as well~

One of the many lines I had fun creating

Well isn't that what usual gaming sessions are nowadays!~ :D :D :D :D

Appreciated. My gratitudes from the USA here as a Polish Slav, where we equally have many trash novels - in general - and the Internet is the place I want to see the people's voice free from publishing companies.

the ironfelix is one of my favourite writers here, bookmarked in browser. Just want to let you know that - YOU ARE AMAZING :)

congrats on that curie :) well deserved


UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments!

Also thanks for doing such and thanks again for the compliments!

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Hi theironfelix,

This post has been upvoted by the Curie community curation project and associated vote trail as exceptional content (human curated and reviewed). Have a great day :)

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