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The Blue Sky Project - Page 1 - The Blue Sky Project - By Snowcap - Overview
This is a story involving a very rare fetish, and that is the fetish of living aircraft or machines. This is not the place to make fun of odd fetishes so... please refrain from that!

You are a journalist of some kind that has been allowed a very rare look inside the world of the Genesis Air Force Base. It's a multinational effort to construct realistic AIs of various machines for recreational purposes, combat purposes, or just out of curiosity. It is a sprawling base with aircraft and other machines from all nationalities and time periods, and some even of various states of anthropomorphism. Some are barely recognizable from their unchanged counterparts, and others walk on two legs and have the body structures of humans. You have no idea how they act or what sort of discipline is enforced on the highly restricted base, but nonetheless, you are excited and at the edge of your seat in the truck that is carrying you up a winding road through a remote Taiga forest somewhere deep in Canada.

The rules are pretty lax but they are there.

1. Avoid painful and cruel acts of any sort. They are military machines and their commanding officers would not like hearing of a journalist that was painfully killed.

2. Stay within the species bounds. Furries are okay, and even ferals to an extent, but the base inhabitants should not be anything too fanciful. The project has not created dragons, gryphons, etc... sorry.

3. Try to use real-life aircraft. One offs and prototypes are okay. Using fictional aircraft is okay occasionally as long as you make sure to cite where it is from and how it looks so no one gets confused.

Any type of vore is okay as long as it follows 1 and 2. Reformation is possible with sci-fi actions or moderate amounts of magic.

Have fun and happy trails!


Your eyes scan the outside environment as you slouch back in the passenger's seat of the Silverado, a newer model that looked like one from about 2014. She was a large, extended cab 2500 model, with an olive drab paint and a camper cover over her truck bed, which gave her the appearance of an SUV. You had learned to call her she because when you tried to climb into her driver's seat, she had yelled at you and was now driving without your help. You glance back to watch the steering wheel and pedals all moving and twitching on their own without any input... she was driving mighty fast, but she was driving with incredible skill too, so you just shake your head and look out the window again.

It is very cold outside, probably below 30 degrees Fahrenheit. The truck, Radium was her name, had thought to turn her heater on and was even considerate enough to rev her engine hard to warm her biological passenger. The outside world is a lush evergreen forest teeming with plant life and animal life as well. You are somewhere in the Far North of Canada, far beyond the reaches of civilization and seriously beginning to question the truck's ability to navigate. Nervously, you begin to ask, "R-Radium...? You know where we are, r-right...?" She didn't respond for a second. Then a voice slowly comes out of her speakers, "Of fucking course I do. Calm down, seriously. We're almost there."

You blink a few times and glance down at your visitor's card out of idle boredom. You don't dare touch her radio dials and you doubt there is much out here anyways.. your visitor's card is a simple laminated piece of plastic dangling from your neck. On the golden background is a series of pieces of information... your name, your date of birth, your species...
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