Imagine traveling around a sparsely inhabited alien planet, much of the surface of which is covered by a dense, viscous fluid. You set sail in a magnificent vessel, crafted largely from organic materials found on one of the habitable islands with help from the natives. It seems crude in its design, but is highly functional, even allowing for complete submersion in the fluid, except in polar regions - a feature you intend to make full use of. The very appearance of the craft gives you a whiff of the peculiar culture that must have developed on these islands. The strange climate of this planet is fickle, and the many atmospheric phenomena you witness on your quest have a stark, raw beauty to them. Ion storms dissipate the soft phosphine clouds, tinting the sky a violent purple, as the harsh, overbearing light from the binary sun-stars illuminates the endless ripples your vessel leaves in the gooey substance in its wake. Diffuse aurorae blanket your field of vision at nights, and the discrete ones - an amateur artist's careless streaks on this mystical canvas of an alien sky - are much like the ones on Earth, but appear far more frequently here, often even during the daytime. You encounter few hostile creatures, among them a particularly aggressive flock of flightless xenobears, which you avoid by submerging, and a rather horny deep-sea creature that follows your ship for days, mistaking it for a mate, casually nudging and bumping it from various sides, however you quickly realize that the true danger of this planet lies in its erratic chemistry. During particularly humid days on the surface, the atmosphere gets so charged, that each heave of your ship sends a flurry of argon-blue sparks flying. But, who would willingly go on such a long and perilous voyage? Only a naive adventurer like yourself! Why, to forge knowledge of lands unknown, to lay eyes upon things unseen, to go where no man has gone before - can nothing spur a greater sense of discovery and wonderment? And as you eventually approach the conclusion of your journey, docking your ship at the makeshift harbor from which you began your travels, you sentimentally reflect that, despite all the foreign threats of this planet, all the endured hardships, all the wakeful nights of turbulence, you are ever so reluctant to flip the last page of this chapter of your life. But an adventurer's spirit never wanes, and, who knows, perhaps you'll be exploring another strange world in due time. Preferably, one with less gooey, sticky stuff all over the place. Ew. Totally gross.
I'd like to thank FTL, Shatner, and Dune for all (some?) of the inspiration!
and inb4 this isn't trance n00b, I know it's not your run-a-da-mill stylez, but I'm once again tired of sticking stuff into the miscellaneous cat., and so here we are...?