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HANGARS LIQUIDES RADIO

July 27, 2014 in general by technopunk


HANGARS LIQUIDES stream, if u r lucky enough to be able to see that button, then you can enter the audio world of hangars liquides.

be cyberpunk, support the technopunk servers

June 21, 2014 in general by technopunk

3D Artist Djehan Kidd – Architectural Concept for a beach house. ©2013 (P)hangars liquides
To help support the technopunk servers everywhere.

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To buy login there : https://marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Beach-House-watch-the-trailer/5446842

Ubiquism Automatistifiiididism

June 19, 2012 in general, slideshow by technopunk

http://www.newtoy.org/mp3s/soundsoup/SS3-180612.mp3

Laughing at the fridge, upside down… with cans of Gamma ray treated shit power drink my ass, upside down..or diagonals of lights, who knows, who could tell..who actualy sees it? Her. And maybe the few closest mates. Smiling.
The convoluted walls were slowly whispering that…”I am an underwater net, I am also..”. There was no way out from this city and she remembered, terrified, the nets that were slowly dancing in the breeze under the walkways..what for? Catching birds? Birds didn’t exist anymore.

She was with a friend, celebrating the opening of this new squat. Transporting herself all over as she knew all the corners of this place now.

She did meet with a few people since a while. She had no idea why..”mmmmhh”..but somehow, some people were crazy enough to come around, what was happening? Office buildings. Long corridors, many doors. Open, don’t open..open, don’t open, don’t open it, open it? “Hahaha! All these fucking doors should be opened” she thought “Because you never…always..know, but at the same time, you perfectly know.” She knew so she had to make a face you see. Ghe sboro.

It was summer, or what’s left of summer, she was alIVE ! Alive! As this precise moment there wasn’t a better color than this strange orange warm sepia ton. Totaly the color she would sometimes see from a belly. Warm. Like a gamma ray treated orange in winter.

Time, date…weather? Who gives a fuck. She was living the 4rth millenium as if the number 4 was the meaning of bad luck. She never liked when it was 4am. Howard Phillips’s fault, that bastard. The only person responsible for such a question when it comes to opening or not opening. Same as smoking or not smoking, you could tell me. Why being so complicated Howard, why 4am, why did you have to add a bad luck number, one more, why..pffff

So, anyways, what was the meaning of this all, since one divided by zero was not giving 42 jellyfishes.

The meaning of this all was SUPERSTITION.

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Crashing down heavily, she could see her brunette friend, this beautiful warm creature in front of her. She was telling her “Im having a blast”.

The light at the end of the tunnel

May 14, 2012 in general, slideshow by technopunk

music : datach’i   “incubate”

It was late, nearly 4am. Central Station was foggy.

The few pedestrians were looking like they were on speed and loving it.

“PATHETIC FUCKS!” , he was screaming and she could hear it coming from the dark tunnels behind her. She wanted the pedestrian conveyor to speed up even though she could barely stand up, her knee was bleeding.

“Defectuous Conveyor – Keep your feet on the ground – Defectuous Conveyor – Keep your feet on the ground” the robotic voice was repeatedly saying, low pitched. Everything slowed down.

“IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!IM FUCKING GOING TO KILL YOU!” he was approaching way too fast.

She heavily fell off the handrail and landed hands first outside the conveyor, hurting her knee even more..But she was now hidden behind the ramp. She was going back, leaving a trail of blood behind her, crawling on two arms and one leg just like an insect.

As she crawled next to the entrance of the tunnel she could hear the guy talking to himself, he was only a few meters away now.

A smashed piece of metallic pipe was laying on the floor, she stopped and grabbed it, stood up right behind the frame of the tunnel’s entrance and as the guy got out from it she found a good piece of anger inside of her to violently smash the piece of junk right into his face.
She felt a huge pain in her hand as she broke one of her finger doing so.

The man started to falter, joining both his hands onto his face that was rapidly covered with blood.

“”Defectuous Conveyor – Remain Still – Defectuous Conveyor – Remain Still”  the conveyor stopped. The man was not down, holding himself on the ramp, still shaken but more than anything else he was blinded by the blood a lot.

She walked towards the dock as fast as she could, she wasn’t looking back. Wind started to blow into the station, the antigravitic shuttle was landing, she managed to catch it.

She sat down on a folding seat. “This shuttle goes to Hangars”.  The doors closed almost immediatly. And as it took off, she held the wrist of her injured hand and thought aloud “piece of infiltrated shit”.

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to central station : http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hangars%20Liquides%20north/182/99/2189

junk theory

April 15, 2012 in RP by technopunk

She opens her eyes and sees the curved walkway, this narrow path in between two massive walls. She looks around, haggard, “Higgs Boson St” on a metal plaque.
She knows where she is but does not remember how she ended up sleeping in front of this door. Nervously, she puts her hands in her pocket looking for something to touch and
keeps them in as she looks up, attracted by a heavy roaming sound. A massive black ship slowly splitting the light grey skies.
She looks fed up as she tries to stand up, staggering, she eats a pill, seats back and looks up again. The ship is not visible anymore. Only the sound of the engine indicates it is slowing down. A few minutes pass by and a loud industrial metallic engagement noise resonates all over the city.

On the way to Central Station she sees a few junkies playing soccer with broken bottles around a fire barrel, the muffled echo sound of a rave somewhere. One of them
hails in her direction “hey Djehan!”, she slows down and looks with her eyes half closed as if she had troubles focusing but she gets going.
She enters a small corridor. It opens up on a very long tunnel equipped with a pedestrian conveyor that she steps on, a robotic voice warns the users “keep your feet on the ground, keep your feet on the ground”.
Quickly sliding her finger behind her ear she activates her audio, starts to ride the conveyor for a moment, arrives on the dock and catches the tube.

In the tube she finally remembers what happened the night before. Someone trying to fly off the squatted building’s roof was saved in extremis by roaming Realcov drones and they left in a symphony of metallic shock sounds as people started to stone them with whatever pieces of junk they could find around.

9am – when she arrives at the apartment, Hibiki is sleeping on the couch. She feels silly since she could wake him up with a good ol’punk joke but she refrains from doing so, briefly raising her eyebrows as a sign of self depiction. He’s better off thinking she’s not such a nutcase, he offered her a job afterall.
So she heads to the kitchen and grabs the remaining gamma ray treated fruitypack Lawrence brought with him sometime before, awkwardly sits on the couch while activating a hollowscreen that starts to play a MMA cage fight with volume set to max.

“mute” she whispers, leaning back.

Profile photo of djehank by djehank

slideshow

January 17, 2012 in slideshow by djehank