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That is gloriously ominous and fun, and there are definitely still many Magi Prime and Archmagi Prime within the AT who argue the merits of giving the general populace some form of adapted religion rather than entirely segueing into a purely secular society. Religion, as pertains to the Athenian Technocracy, mostly revolves around the principle of science as the ultimate expression of divinity; the convergence of inspiration, knowledge and wisdom. Understanding and expression through creation are acts of devotion, betterment of the self is a holy quest, and the road to learning is a pilgrimage toward apotheosis. God is the coder and the code, the engineer and the engine, and the greatest acts of worship one can perform are things like creating a new scientific discipline, proving a new theorem, advancing the cause, etc. also have an excerpt from my notes quote:===Formal Rank Structure===
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Feb 20, 2018 10:12
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It would have been even greater if the drone lit up a little holographic cigarette, squinted, and took a long drag before speeching at him.
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Feb 20, 2018 14:26
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Karia posted:. . . Belle Dame sans Merci. Glorious. Great to see another fan of the 'Classics'.
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Feb 20, 2018 19:59
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Thanks, all, it was a fun write! Just a one-shot, I think, but we'll see. Maybe I'll do something from the other perspective, I dunno.CourValant posted:Glorious. Great to see another fan of the 'Classics'. Afraid I can't claim much knowledge of Keats, actually. He's on my reading list, but there's well over a hundred books there so it may be a while. Blasphemaster posted:It would have been even greater if the drone lit up a little holographic cigarette, squinted, and took a long drag before speeching at him. I know you were probably thinking hardboiled detective, but my mind went somewhere else entirely and I don't apologize in the slightest. Slice of Life: He hears the drone before he can see it. "I tell ya, son, that there was mighty brave. Right stupid, but mighty brave." It descends in a cloud of smoke, barely the size of his fist, glowing yellow fields outstretch. He can feel it eyeing him suspiciously, puffing on a cigar almost as big as it is. Salma feels his lungs itching to cough, but can't even make that reflexive movement. "I'da figured ya woulda learned to see the light by now," it drawled, punctuating its words with jabs of the cigar. "What're you at, nine shots? Sheee-iiit, son, seems like your mind's made-a something else. But, I guess you still ain't gettin' the picture, so listen close now. We're nice folk here, we take care-a each other. But we don't take too kindly to Yankee fellas like yerself tryin' ta mess with us." It stabbed the cigar in his face. "So ya best remember this: you don't mess with the Texocracy."
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Feb 21, 2018 00:29
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Karia posted:"So ya best remember this: you don't mess with the Texocracy."  This is some 1984, Room 101, 'abandon all hope' stuff right here; I approve. 
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Feb 21, 2018 01:16
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Hey Hex does that mean that Ohone outranks Oneoh? also holy poo poo Karia you rule.
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Feb 21, 2018 06:38
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There's only one way to settle that one. Jello wrasslin'
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Feb 21, 2018 20:07
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Hexenritter posted:There's only one way to settle that one. 
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Feb 21, 2018 21:18
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Dammit, Hexen. Slice of Life: The firelight glints orange on the oiled metal skin of the drone. He looks askance at it, and it bobs briefly at him in terse greeting. But he knows this is merely a formality: its fields glow deep crimson in anticipation of what is to come. It takes massive drags from its cigar, crushed at one end from the field's death grip. He, too, is calm on the surface, holding a gathering rage at bay, for now, until after they enter the arena. He knows the crowds are there already, though they are silent. Drones and humans alike watch the pit hungrily, waiting with bated breath for the coming fight. The Texnocracy prides itself on learning, knowledge, and reason. But this is a matter of pride. A challenge has been issued, and for tonight reason will stand back and merely watch with the rest of the crowd. Instead: blood. For the victor: honor, glory, freedom. For the victim: shame, recrimination, servitude. The moderator is in full ceremonial regalia, resplendent in blue denim and a widebrimmed hat. On his chest, a five pointed star gleams. He nods them to enter. He strides in slowly, one eye on the drone beside him, matching his strides to the machine's cigar drags. Step. Step. Puff. Step. Step. Puff. And then, at last, he can see it. The place where he will have his last gamble, where he will either stand free of the Texnocracy, or fall trying. A green vinyl pit, a meter deep and twice that in diameter. Small so he cannot run away. He can see the attendants, freshly polished spurs shining bright in the firelight, preparing the holy mixture, adding water to massive vats of powdered mix. He knows they vary the color jello depending on the purpose of the ceremony: lime for blessing scientific endeavors, blueberry for christening newborn children. Tonight, they have picked cherry. Soon, they will fill the pit, and then it will begin. There are no stairs. Once you are in the pit, the only way out is victory. It is beautiful. The moderator gestures them forth. He parts ways with the drone now, circling slowly around the pit until they are facing each other for the first time. The drone is naked to the waist, molded metal muscles oiled and bulging. The red of the fields has darkened, now the color of blood, the color of cherry. He suppresses a shiver. The jello floods in, two feet deep. They both take the plunge. He crouches under the impact, and can see the drone floating gently down across from him. It is close, now, so close he can almost get his hands on it. He can almost feel the metal casing twisting in his grip, see the sparks as he plunges it under the surface... The moderator speaks, breaking the silence. "Listen up, all y'alls. You both know the rules, so I wanna see a good, clean fight. No jello in the eyes, and you best keep those fields away from where the sun don't shine, yah hear me?" He rings the gong. Without waiting for another word, they spring together. He reaches for it, fingers groping for its oiled skin. Distantly, beneath the adrenaline and the rage, he can feel the drone's strikes on his legs, the fields trying to bring him down and hold him under. He struggles forth, ignoring it, ignoring the jello splattering across his chest. He so close, almost has it, but it ducks under his grasping hands in a suicidal charge at his chest. One shot to take him down. It fails. His arms scissor shut, holding the drone tightly. He could finish this now, he knows, throwing himself into the jello. But it would be a Pyrrhic victory. He must not merely win by technicality, but stand free. There is only one way to end this, one gesture that will show beyond a doubt that he stands strong and free above his defeated enemy. He lifts the drone high, spinning slowly so everyone can see that he holds in in his grasp. For one long second, he stands still holding it aloft, letting the tension build and the audience wonder. And then he throws it to the ground, a classic powerbomb. He has won. He is free. Sorry I'm not sorry
Karia fucked around with this message at 02:42 on Feb 22, 2018 |
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Feb 22, 2018 02:34
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Karia posted:Sorry I'm not sorry Please tell me this is now canon.
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Feb 22, 2018 02:36
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Karia posted:Dammit, Hexen. quote:Sorry I'm not sorry
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Feb 22, 2018 03:15
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Karia posted:Slice of Life: Karia, you're one magnificent bastard. 
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Feb 22, 2018 08:22
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This is the kind of content we all came here for.
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Feb 23, 2018 01:11
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Thank you all for reading my silly crap! Good to know I can still write stuff that's not just "FIRE FIRE BURN" all the time. Though that's fun too in its own way...
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Feb 23, 2018 02:00
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Yeah there is no way that has not happened in this crazy universe.
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Feb 23, 2018 04:19
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Loel forgot what we're doing, so repost your votes.cat_herder posted:I think our goal is clear, then. Don't go bad, so we don't need to be killed and make him go bad.
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Feb 23, 2018 05:36
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cat_herder posted:Loel forgot what we're doing, so repost your votes. alcohol is delicious okay
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Feb 23, 2018 05:38
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Loel posted:alcohol is delicious okay no judgement here, I just had an edible. writing is best when intoxicated, right?
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Feb 23, 2018 05:43
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cat_herder posted:no judgement here, I just had an edible. writing is best when intoxicated, right? write drunk edit sober (I dont edit  )
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Feb 23, 2018 05:45
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Why do you think I stay up late to write? Gotta get high on sleep debt. I have a different proposal: the cycle ends with us. What we've just found out is that the universe does revolve around us. It is the way it is almost solely because Anna has spent untold amounts of time warping and distorting everything to try to fulfill her goal. But it wasn't supposed to. Anna should have been a major player, who screwed up, died, and that was the end of it. We can set it back the way it should be. When we die, we set it up so we're erased from this timeline, so that we've never existed. It's the ultimate act of self-sacrifice: we could achieve every one of our goals, save humanity, attain godhood, and still die anonymously, unknown and unremembered. It's atonement for screwing it all up in the first place, it's faith in Fabiyan and everyone else to continue when we're done, its an acknowledgment that if Fabs killed us we did actually go off the deep end, it's the humility to leave the stage when we've played our part. It's also totally out of character. But we've got time to grow towards it, and maybe we'd grow enough on the way to avoid turning bad. But we're increasingly seeing that all our efforts to fix things just break everything even more. Maybe it's time to try just letting the universe be. Two ways I see it ending: either the universe is totally reset to what it would be without us there, or it somehow adapts and finds a best-fit solution, rearranging things so they still happen the same just without us there. I feel like either would be satisfying from a literary standpoint. How do we do it? I dunno. Hole in reality? Dose literally everyone with drugs that erase memories when we die? Saw-style death-trap around the Jungian shared unconscious version of ourselves in Acheron?
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Feb 23, 2018 05:46
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I mean, the last time I saw this, the character keeping everything together sold her soul to an alien in order to destroy and remake the universe.
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Feb 23, 2018 08:46
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I don't think the issue is with Ohone, but rather her inability to accept loss. Ohone and Fabiyan going around and around and around. I wouldn't be surpised that the Empress was an Ohone and the imposter on the throne was a Fabiyan. We have pulled him and our own soul back from the edge so many times it doesn't even matter anymore. Things like Loki's wager, Athena's return, Gorgon, whatever are all just bit players in a grand narrative that feeds Tzeench forever. I don't think Ohone has to die, we know that there is something pivotal she must do that moves the story forward. Anna confirmed this, as the one thing she cannot see. What is different is our Ohone is tearing the book apart. You can't write new chapters in burning book. We have already upset major factions in the narrative and things are starting to slip free as major chains are broken free from the wheel. I think the one thing that defines Ohone is the one thing keeping her going. Never stop punching. Every choice is life or death, no half measures, no compromise. I think two things need to happen to finally cut all the strings. Ohone needs to compile herself. There are at least 4 different version of her running around and we need to...consume them all. I think drastically too. There can only be one single thread. No Anna, no Oneoh, no Luddite, No Empress, no Elf. They all have to give their power to Ohone and cease. It's a lot to ask and I bet many will refuse but we have to clear the way. I then we will have enough power to best everything that is thrown at us. The second is one I think most people will fight me over is that we have to eliminate Fabiyan. He continued existence is the last spoke of the wheel, almost the axle holding it in place. We lost him long ago and should have never brought him back. It's tragic and he's a good person but whatever he was left when we broke his faith and twisted his soul into a mockery of itself. It's the albatross around our neck and it will chew out our liver one day. Once Ohone has freed herself from the universe and its hooks she can clean up and start it all from scratch. Arkanomen fucked around with this message at 17:36 on Feb 23, 2018 |
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Feb 23, 2018 11:07
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I think the issue is with Phone. Autocorrect strikes again!
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Feb 23, 2018 11:17
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So we need to track down and eat all our alternate selves, got it.
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Feb 23, 2018 15:04
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Arkanomen posted:Ohone needs to compile herself. Careful, compiling yourself too hard might make you go blind. Real Talk: So, Highlander, you want to play Highlander? I'm not opposed to it, just not sure it might work. These aren't 'split versions' of ourselves, these are time loop alternates, as in, fully actualized 'people', if that's the right term? That's like saying going back in time and 'compiling' the 8 year old version of yourself; how would you propose doing this?
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Feb 23, 2018 19:41
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How about we just murder the one that's loving with time? ie, the Acheronic god we were planning on murdering sometime anyway? It's clear from the universe breaking that this isn't, for lack of a better term, an exothermic time loop. It's gotta be initiated and if we kill the god doing that, bingo. No time looper, no problem.
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Feb 23, 2018 21:48
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Not Alex posted:How about we just murder the one that's loving with time? ie, the Acheronic god we were planning on murdering sometime anyway? It's clear from the universe breaking that this isn't, for lack of a better term, an exothermic time loop. It's gotta be initiated and if we kill the god doing that, bingo. No time looper, no problem. This. Just kill the gods first.
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Feb 23, 2018 23:49
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Not Alex posted:How about we just murder the one that's loving with time? ie, the Acheronic god we were planning on murdering sometime anyway? It's clear from the universe breaking that this isn't, for lack of a better term, an exothermic time loop. It's gotta be initiated and if we kill the god doing that, bingo. No time looper, no problem. This sounds like the Sentinel Comics Oblivaeon solution. Kill the thing causing schisms in time, and everything auto-fixes.
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Mar 6, 2018 05:21
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mepstein73 posted:This sounds like the Sentinel Comics Oblivaeon solution. Kill the thing causing schisms in time, and everything auto-fixes. What is the thing, and when in time is it 
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Mar 6, 2018 05:25
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Loel posted:What is the thing, and when in time is it I would think the answer is clear. Its All things, for All time.
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Mar 6, 2018 05:28
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The beast is Ohone and she's right there. That's what's loving up time. Problem is there's a few of em running around. We got rid of a lot of them. Fed them to Anna by langolier proxy in the webway. Cleaned a lot of them up. Then there are the Fabiyan loopers, one of which just ascended from the golden throne and became some sort of holy abomination. Then there's Jannissary Fabiyan who's banging our mom and the whole mess with Oneoh. There's also Gorgon and that whole scheme. Really at this point we need to pick some path forward and I think the only choice we have is to keep going "off script". We have to break the cycle in a very literal sense. So far we've done well, Anna got caged which cuts many, many strings. We have Void tech now which is the ultimate undo-all button. That really leaves the only piece left, Fabiyan. Time and again either Ohone or Fabs cycles around to keep the other Alive. The damned chicken has both of them in its cycle so we have to remove both. Ohone has to kill Fabiyan and then accept his death and by proxie the death of our self. There is no way to keep him alive forever, Ohone has tried. There is a great confrontation that ends in tragedy and ashes where a soft flap of a feathered wing resets the little toy people and the story is told again. Someone has to go and not come back this time. Every time someone returns it doesn't end well.
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Mar 6, 2018 18:23
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Three part Disharmony A bomb is quite simple, really. It only takes three parts at its core. An explosive, the trigger and the will to use it. Bombs can take many forms as the there parts vary. Cores of fire, chemicals, information, images can blossom into change at the twitch of a finger, an exhaled breath or the ticking of a clock. A bomb can be considered change crystallized, frozen in the moment, waiting for a will to release it. The final part needed to complete the work. -------------------------- $NULL was sitting in its trash heap of a lab and doing it's best to avoid overloading the biologic processors that lived where a heart and lungs once grew. The data pouring in and over it's processor banks was something out of purest fantasy. Twice now, the Lordsire not only physically contacted a Total-field-negation-apeture, but traversed through it. A hole is a hole, but nothing was supposed to make it through. These holes ate, well, everything. Now the holes didn't seem to do that at all, and that wasn't right. It broke the rules! It must be the work of that. nasty pink stuff that ate ships trying to break light speed that has all the nasty little predators in it. Those are tears that didn't follow rules, not neat holes and $NULL did not like that one bit either. So it pouted and yelled and screamed at the data for days. The nice lady with the horns said to keep trying but didn't give hints like last time. $NULL didn't think that was very nice at all. Now there were loud noises and ship alarms and the tangy aftertaste of Cherenkov Radiation making it very hard to figure out why the TNFAs were not negating! Poor $NULL was so upset he didn't even notice the tiny data packet that arrived in its inbox. --------------------------------------- An unthinkable distance away, Travis Wrent had unblocked the emotion devouring hole in his soul as much as he dared too. The psionic dampened walls of the compound he was chasing little Addie through was no where near strong enough to block out the wake that THING had stirred up, even with the astounding Lostech the false Lordsire had at her disposal. Travis felt something big in Acheron stir then launch itself across existence. Addie pulling out her special set of "Terrible no good rotten bad day knives" with an uncharacteristic giddy smile only confirmed that something was wrong. "ITS TIME!" she screamed and took off towards the cult research wing and suddenly Travis felt the same thing. There was no plan, only the feeling of one as waves of psionic energy crashed into the planet's noosphere from Empress knows where. Travis knew that the feelings of revenge and political crescendo were alien in origin and his altered biology allowed him to cut out most of it, but going that deep into his blank self cut away the color of life. Travis went after his ward but his feet betrayed his attitude and she was gone in moments. Reports flooded in from his various contacts, none of them making sense. Worlds were rioting against themselves, machine ghosts turning on their masters and mutiny seared fleets vented crew by the thousands. Travis struggeled to fight the corruption but even this was too strong. He had to do something subversive and he had to do it now. For quite some time now, Travis has been gathering information on the empire of the false one. It was not a kind picture. Large swaths of the empire had fallen to her machines. We didn't processing into replaceable parts by the trillions, whole planets cracked and devoured by machines that would make a technomage weep. It was no small miracle that the false one was still constrained by the physical. Time and space were her domain by the metaphysical was scorned. Acheronic suppression and blanking created what Travis felt was a blind spot. So Travis built a map, not just of real space, but of the elf tunnels that snaked around worlds. The false ones technology allowed easy egress into those twisted corridors and even easier escape. Travis and mapped out the major nexus points and correlated them to the false ones empire. No good trader takes to the high seas without a map, and in the current chaos what is one more act of treachery in a maelstrom of revolt. Travis knew the dead drop was tapped. The false one was too powerful to escape notice, but he had never been called on it's use before. The file, encrypted both technically and in content slipped away as a feeling of ease washed over Travis. It didn't matter if this was his death warrant, the acheronic spell filled him with a sense of satisfaction. Travis of course knew that these feelings were false and that a reckoning will follow, but enjoyed it while it lasted. His treason complete and the void inside once again consuming all the color of life, Travis followed the trail of blood, discarded knives and sounds of gurgling screams and the laughter of cherubs. ----------------------------- $NULL was happy the alarms had stopped. It made the whispering the angry bird lady was doing much easier to hear. Delicious hints about how a Hole can be a Hole without making a Hole but also sometimes making a Hole poured through the psychic link, unchecked. The bird lady had to whisper really loud for $NULL to hear but it was so happy that the equations were being fixed. It turns out the naughty pink tears had a lot to do with the Holes and that you can make the Holes only sometimes holes if the right person thought at them the right way. The bird woman was just about to tell $NULL an important part of the equation before she abruptly stopped. She apologized that she can't say more because of rules and then was gone. $NULL hoped she was having fun playing a new game and went back to fixing his Hole gun. With the new rules a Hole can now be the Ultimate Hole that even the pink stuff can escape through it. It took a lot more energy though and you needed one of the pink brain people to think at it really hard. They could make it really big but then the thinking guy would get eaten by the Hole too. That was okay, you can just clone thinking guys and make new ones. They didn't think as well as regular ones so the Holes wouldn't be as big, but if you got one of the really big thinky people, like Screamy-sad or the one that pretends to be an elf and BOOM! That Hole could erase a moon forever. $NULL was rocked out of his glee by the pinging of a new message. The message didn't make a lot of sense, it was a silly map of somewhere far away and also of the neat but still misbehaving elf tunnels. Tunnels are okay, $NULL thought, but what about making them into proper Holes. $NULL noticed then the message was from the nice woman with horns. It must be another hint. Hints are so helpful. This one was also a challenge. How could $NULL find a thinky person to think hard enough to turn all these tunnels into holes. $NULL knew just who to ask. It gathered up his notes on Holes and the tunnels and went to find the Saint. The man wearing the boot for a hat told him You could always count on the Saint for help. He once let $NULL hold his wing. It was super soft and made its dendrites spark in a funny way. Maybe the Saint would know a really strong thinky person that could make the tunnels holes and solve the puzzle. $NULL happily waddled to the gravlift and requested the bridge. OMEGA knew how to call people on other ships, It would go ask the cranky old man to call the Saint. Hopefully OMEGA didn't feel too cranky today.
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Mar 6, 2018 19:40
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How Now Brown Cow??
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Mar 7, 2018 09:20
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$NULL is the cutest explosion-obsessed robot who's being goaded into studying the most dangerous weaponry in existence by Loki and Anna. I want one.Loel posted:What is the thing, and when in time is it Why haven't we asked Anna-one (Annone?) this? Seems like she still hasn't told us the most important bits of the story: why/how she "went bad" enough for Fabs to take her out, and who her patron is. My bet's on black hole god.
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Mar 9, 2018 03:54
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Lets find a White Hole and smash it into the remains of Sol. Just to be sure.
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Mar 9, 2018 05:32
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Lets just crash the whole universe into the grid so hard the universe above is gonna be banging on the floor telling us to keep it down. Or until we break through the floor.
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Mar 9, 2018 07:26
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Loel posted:What is the thing, and when in time is it It's at the Nexus of the elf ways/all time, which by the way is the god baby in Sol. Entering from normal space just gets you annihilated, have to sneak in the elf ways.
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Mar 20, 2018 02:45
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Toughy posted:have to BLAST OUR WAY INTO the elf ways.
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Mar 20, 2018 03:52
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And here I am, agreeing with Ark. What even is this campaign anymore.
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Mar 20, 2018 03:55
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The Crazy Conspiracies Market is doing extremely well with an almost perfectly vertical growth rate and good futures in planet-sized russian nesting dolls made out of schemes.
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Mar 20, 2018 04:00
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