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 Stoner Sloth posted:I'm not sure I agree with this - I'd rather know what Skrappi's problem is if he is going to be difficult later. Worst comes to worst it's better to have him try to stab us in the front than waiting on an opportune moment to stab us in the back. Besides showing concern for his reality may make him realize that we're on his side. Pustulio posted:I vote 2 as well, we should be above reacting to petty aggression like that and can use it to actually learn stuff about Skrappi instead. You calm yourself. This is still Eye Guy, after all. As guileful and conniving as he could be, he was also in a way your oldest friend. Besides that, he’s your wife’s cousin, so in a way he’s family. And he’s struggling with a Mental burden unlike any he’s ever experienced before. You were born and bred a Controller, you suffered through the Squiv that is finding a common ground of self between two warring minds. What Eye Guy is going through you wouldn’t wish on anyone. You think it’s probably best to be patient, and listen. Don’t let your anger get the best of you, and instead open your ears to Skrappi and see what his needs are, so that you may help him and, by extension, help Eye Guy. “I was mistaken, Skrappi. There’s no need to rush to Meditor right away. I would be most interested to hear of your story, and what I can do to help you.”  Skrappi laughs. “I thought you said you were a Maronee, or what do you guys call it, Morani? What’s with all this charitable, empathic stuff? Where’s the vile monster we all know and love?” “I’m a Morani, yes, but I’m more than that. I’ve overcome the limitations of my bloodline and my past; you can do the same.” Skrappi’s demeanor seems to soften somewhat. “It’s difficult for me to trust your kind, you understand. I’ve had a very long history with the Maronee, and Maricei O-Maronee in particular.” “Tell me about it.” “I’ll do you one better. I will share my Memory.”  The crunching of the gravel under your boots is soothing as you climb the final stretch of path, around the crater, to the duroshed. Opening the dinged-up polymetal door, you find a plinth inside the small space, upon which a doorcaster device sits.  You take it up in your hands, briefly admiring the workmanship: one of your cousin Jirenta’s more impressive creations. She’s the finest mind in the Odiusee Kin; she runs the research and development wing of the Odiusee Civic Corporation. It was a position of some prestige. You, however, have a position of even greater prestige: Lead Agent of Corporate Espionage. You daily risk your hide sneaking into places you shouldn’t be, talking to people you shouldn’t meet, and wresting secrets you shouldn’t have access to from mainframes that should be far more secure. Anything that made money, anything that made a difference in the war against the Tower-Builders, and anything to turn the tide in the endless grueling fight against the Maronee Kin, you would find it and you would bring it back to the Odiusee. The doorcaster crackles and fires off a shower of sparks, which form the glowing outline of a corridor. You step inside, and the outline becomes an actual corridor.  “I’m home, Jirenta!” you say, and you draw the infoglass from your jacket pocket. “And I have some exciting news about the flaw in that Maronee super-weapon.”  In the shadows, you can hear the familiar sound of Maricei O-Maronee activating her tekno-revolver and leveling it at you. “Let me see if I can’t guess the news: rumor has it there was supposedly a small yet fatal flaw in the Maronee super-weapon, right? Only it was never discovered because the idiot who retrieved the data fell into a stupid, obvious trap and died.” You permit yourself a tight, bemused smile. “Ahhh, Maricei. Back for another roll in the hay?” “I was gonna shoot you in the head before you said that.” She lowers her gun a few inches. “Come on, Maricei. You know as well as I do that what the Maronee Kin is doing is wrong. The Tower-Builders are mindless destroyers, they can’t be bargained with. We need to unite against them.” “I know you’re right. Do you think I’m stupid?” Maricei says between gritted teeth. “But I don’t have a choice. You know what they did to my brain. The gene-sequence controls me, now.” “Listen to yourself!” you implore. “If you are able to recognize the control for what it is, then you can fight the gene-sequence! Please! Fight!” At barely a whisper: “I need you back.” Maricei fires her tekno-revolver once, shattering the infoglass in your hand. “You should start running, Skrappi. Run and don’t ever stop, because I’ll be right behind you.” For a long, tense moment you stare at her, and she stares back, unwaveringly. The teknics begin to whirr in her revolver. You run. “So you were being hunted from then on?” “By you.” says Skrappi. “Well, a lady you. Someone I used to love, in a way. If circumstances were different.” Skrappi looks wistfully out through Eye Guys’ eyes at you. “I’m sorry. I’ve been difficult. A lot has happened to me in the last few days.” “I can sympathize with that.” you say, understatedly. “You’ve lost the person you love, had everyone you trust turned against you, fought for your life, been merged with an alternate self…” “Yeah.” says Skrappi, sadly. “But I’m alive.” “Do you think she knows where you went?” “I don’t think she knows how I escaped, but… she will hunt me until one of us dies.” “You’re partially right.” says a third voice. “But mostly wrong.”  “Speak of the Contramessiah.” mutters Skrappi. He drops into a posture of readiness. His manic flickering redoubles as he focuses some Mental attack. “Skrappi, wait-” begins the newcomer. She is so incredibly familiar: in her face you can find features from every woman in the Morani family, from your greater-matriarch Maitites to your aunt Triplabia to your baby cousin, Amy. Not to mention, features from the mirror. Her shout comes too late as Eye Guy attacks her. You observe the Mental energy as it streaks outwards from his Mind, coalescing into a bolt of energy which-- Maricei sidesteps, by seemingly teleporting bodily a span to her left. The attack careens off into the Mindscape, wasted energy. “Please, don’t make me attack you.” she begs, but her hand becomes a blur, which blossoms strange light. Then, suddenly, Eye Guy is invisible. Maricei looks about confusedly, her, building energy now having nothing to hit. “Please, I don’t know how you know Skrappi, but you must- OOG!” She flies off her feet and lands heavily; she has some difficulty regaining herself, while Eye Guy holds out his hand threateningly towards her. “Leave me alone, Titeanus!” growls Skrappi’s voice from his mouth. “Don’t call me that!” she shouts, and whips up a leg somehow, which catches Eye Guy under the jaw with a sickening crack. He stumbles backwards, but regains his composure with suprising quickness. As one, they raise their hands in gestures of attack, facing each other. 1.) Subdue Eye Guy. 2.) Subdue Maricei. 3.) Write in:  Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting]
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Aug 5, 2019 23:44
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3. Distract and conquer - Yell out "Wait, there's something important you should know, it changes everything!" as we look like we're going to step in between the two and have something shocking to say, we quickly add "Skrappi, Raggart, Titeanus.... I'm pregnant and the baby belongs to one of you!!" and that's the point we hit Maricei full force with our lifecode to try to get control of her away from the Controllers and stop her madness. Be ready to get out of the way if it doesn't work though.
Stoner Sloth fucked around with this message at 09:31 on Aug 6, 2019 |
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Aug 6, 2019 02:16
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Ask bizarro-Maurice what she was going to say. Try to hold back the If he stops and she keeps fighting, try lifecode persuasion on her instead.
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Aug 6, 2019 04:14
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HBar posted:Ask bizarro-Maurice what she was going to say. Try to hold back the Yeah that makes more sense than my idea really. Also she doesn't seem to be the main aggressor in this so probably a good call.
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Aug 6, 2019 09:33
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Don't worry, my beautiful Beaten Lands buddies! There will be so, so much updating tomorrow! But, in the meantime, please check out my new, hand-drawn CYOA: MOONED! A Small Robot's Space Adventure CYOA. It's about an AI that gets trapped in a small servitor robot after a colony ship crashes, and now we must help it find its own path. 
Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 06:41 on Aug 9, 2019 |
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Aug 9, 2019 06:38
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Ah, what the Squiv, I'll update tonight.HBar posted:Ask bizarro-Maurice what she was going to say. Try to hold back the You hold Eye Guy back with a combination of physical strength and Mental Power. He struggles against your grasp but you can sense he is not eager to fight. In fact, he seems terrified; he flickers and his eyes are wild, like some kind of interdimensional snared rabbit. “Hey. Calm down.” you say. “I don’t think she’s here to fight you.” “I’m not!” she says, her hands open in a gesture of peace. “Please! Skrappi, you have to listen to me. Something incredible has happened! You know how I have the ability to Shift between the Trodden Place and the place called the Beaten Lands? Someone in the Beaten Lands managed to destroy a Tower--what they call a Construct.” “I know.” says Eye Guy. “It was him.” He indicates you by slamming his head against your chest. “It was you?” she asks, awe in her voice. “The moment I heard that had happened, something inside me changed. If the Tower-Builders could be resisted… then I would resist them. And suddenly, I had control over the gene-sequence inside my cells.” “This is a trick.” says Eye Guy, suspiciously. “You’re echoing my own words back at me. I begged you to resist, and you wouldn’t.” Maricei steps towards Eye Guy, her hands open in supplication. “I needed hope, Skrappi. How was I meant to resist without hope? The Tower-Builders seemed omnipotent--” “I was trying to be that hope for you, Maricei! I offered my hand, and you spat in my face!” “Please don’t think I didn’t appreciate it. I loved you more than anything, but I was afraid, so afraid-” Eye Guy growls low in his throat, like a dog. “You hunted me like prey across the Trodden Place! Was that love or fear which drove you then?” “Both, Skrappi.” she says, a sob catching in her throat. “Because I wanted to die. I wanted to be free of the Tower-Builders forever! And I wanted you to be the one to save me. Every deadly confrontation we had across the Trodden Place, I hoped you would end my slavery.” Eye Guy goes limp in your arms. “You know I could never do that.” You release Eye Guy, and he slumps to his knees, looking defeated. The fight seems to have left him entirely. Maricei appears pained. “I’m sorry.” she says. “It’s been a rough week for both of us.” “Welcome to the club.” you say. “So are we done fighting, here?” Eye Guy looks a bit dazed for a second. “Hey. Sorry, it’s Raggart. I think Skrappi needs some time to, uh, process things.” Makes sense. “So, you’re me?” you ask Maricei. “What?” she asks, appearing somewhat creeped out. “What are you talking about? What a weird thing to say.” “I mean, you’re an alternate universe version of myself, Maricei. You didn’t realize?” Maricei looks you up and down, and squints at you. “Olton be praised, are you serious right now? You’re an alternate Maricei O-Maronee?” “You’re an alternate Maurice d’Morani.” you say. “Are you a child born of two worlds, Maricei?” “Yes!” she says, excitedly. “My mother came from the Beaten Lands, and had me with my father from the Trodden Place! Somehow, it granted me an affinity for shifting between the two worlds, although I only discovered it a short while ago.” That’s not quite the answer you expected. “Sorry, I meant were you a cross-breed of human and Constructor, or what you call the Tower-Builders? That’s why you’re here, aren’t you? You took Control over a Construct?” Maricei appears confused, and paces a tight circle. “I don’t know anything about that. But there is a Tower-Builder gene-sequence in me, is that what you mean? Pretty sure I got that from my mother, though.” As she speaks, you notice an undeniable twangy accent to her voice. It’s not nearly as refined as your own, you note with a mixture of disdain and refreshment. “I didn’t take over any Towers, but I can’t imagine that’s any sort of thing I could do anyhow. Nope, but I did plug myself into the nearest Tower I could find. The one in Port Pondskipper, I think you call it?” “Wait, WHAT? You’re inside me right now?” “What are you talking about, ‘inside you’? Everything you’ve said so far is really, really weird.” “The Construct. At Port Pondskipper? That’s me.” you reply. “Or rather, I am the Controller of it. So you are inside of me, right now.” “Oh!” Maricei says, unsettled. “Oh, wow. Okay.” There’s an awkward pause. “Mind if I tag along?” she says, finally. “I have no idea where the tchit I am.” 1.) I suppose! Why not? 2.) That doesn’t seem like a good idea. 3.) Write in: Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting]
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Aug 9, 2019 06:59
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I cannot possibly see why having her tag along would be a bad idea, if it is an elaborate ruse then we'll learn stuff, if she is on the up and up then we basically have another version of us to help out and more of us can't be a bad thing.
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Aug 9, 2019 07:02
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Bring her along, but also fill her in on everything that happened so far and the bigger fight against the XO. Now that she wants to be free of the tower-builders, that could go badly for us if she doesn't have more context.
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Aug 10, 2019 00:39
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Pustulio posted:I cannot possibly see why having her tag along would be a bad idea, if it is an elaborate ruse then we'll learn stuff, if she is on the up and up then we basically have another version of us to help out and more of us can't be a bad thing. HBar posted:Bring her along, but also fill her in on everything that happened so far and the bigger fight against the XO. Now that she wants to be free of the tower-builders, that could go badly for us if she doesn't have more context. “I can’t see any harm in you travelling alongside us.” you say. Besides the weird sense of surreality from conversing with an alternate-universe analogue of your own self, of course. That’s been nagging, in fact increasing. You wonder if you’re sensing something greater, perhaps the tension between adjacent universes. There is a very real sensation to you that Maricei’s Causes and Effects are in a different balance to your own Causes and Effects, and that the reality resonance between the two of you is somewhat disruptive. As it stands, all it’s doing is giving you a slight ache in your inner ears and your temples and your gerebondous cirri. You hope that’s the extent of it. “The only harm I can see in it,” says Eye Guy “is that Skrappi is being a whiny little snit about it. He’s not dealing with this well at all.” “Well this trip will hopefully give the two of them time to kiss and make up,” you say “because we’re dealing with a Squiv of a lot more important things than a little squabble.” “It’s not his fault,” says Maricei, sadly. “He’s right. I let him down, betrayed him, and hunted him. Just because I’ve had a change of heart doesn’t mean I should expect him to accept me back into his good graces.” A short while later, after a silent stroll across the Mindscape towards Meditor, Maricei asks you a question: “So, you’re one of the Tower-Builders? But you’re not evil?” “I was born from Constructor lifecode, what you call a gene-sequence. An attempt at creating a hybrid to assist in subduing my universe’s recalcitrant populace.” “But you resisted?” “They failed in their attempt.” you say. “Apparently there’s something special about our kind; they resist a lot more strongly against Constructor Control. My resistance was so strong, that the lifecode was never able to fully integrate with my person. A layer of Constructor formed around my brain, always attempting to control me but never quite able to. I’ve never known a moment’s peace: my mind has been full of Constructor philosophies and images since my birth.” “Images of death.” she says. “Images of war and destruction and selfish pillaging of helpless universes.” “Exactly.” you reply. “Me too.” Maricei replies. “Ever since the gene-sequence was activated. It’s only been a short time but-” she riffles her hands through her hair, madly. “Those images. They get in your head. The callousness, the sweeping and impersonal waves of trillions of deaths. How have you dealt with this your whole life?” “I didn’t. You know that phrase, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’? I became what I hated most… and I’m using their powers to save the multiverse.” “How so?” she wonders. “Bit-by-bit, I’m turning the Constructors to my side, rallying them against the true enemy of the universe: the Ekso.” “The Ekso?” “Some alien entity from another multiverse, returned from Oblivion itself and wielding it as a weapon against all which exists. They are consuming our Multiverse as we speak, from the outside in.” “Like a piece of fruit!” says Maricei. “Yes, like a piece of fruit.” What the thox? Suddenly, Eye Guy screams with pain. “What the Squiv was that!?” he exclaims. “What was what?” you ask, when a wave of pain and nausea rushes over you and you stumble. Maricei also stumbles, holding her head in agony. “What is going on?” she demands. “I think it might have something to do with that thing over there.” says Eye Guy, pointing to the horizon.  “What is that?” you ask. It moves towards you in a weird, stop-motion fashion and your Mind surges with pain again. “Vuldon’s sake!” screams Eye Guy, collapsed on the ground and gripping his cranium. 1.) Use Glimmer of Insight on the creature. 2.) Attack the creature with Neurocascade. 3.) Attempt to alter the creature with Lifecode Persuasion. 4.) Write in: For details on Controller Abilities, see “Controller Abilities” in the Resources menu below. I know, not very intuitive. Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Current Mental Power Level:  ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting] Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 06:42 on Aug 11, 2019 |
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Aug 11, 2019 06:38
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Aug 11, 2019 06:46
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1. Does that thing even have a mind? Lifecode persuasion won't work if it doesn't.
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Aug 11, 2019 07:09
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Well I mean, this is the Mindscape right? Wouldn't pretty much anything here by definition have/be a mind?
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Aug 11, 2019 21:38
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Pustulio posted:Well I mean, this is the Mindscape right? Wouldn't pretty much anything here by definition have/be a mind? Yes! But also not quite... and no. Everything in the Mindscape is, without a doubt, a Mental construct; these come in many forms, however. There are Minds which are linked to physical entities in the real world. There are Minds which exist solely in the Mindscape. There are creatures with what could be considered "small m" minds, intelligent but like your average wild animal compared to a human; for the purposes of our abilities, they are Mindless. Then, there are those who have been made Mindless, through a process called being "Stemmed." These are beings who have had their own Minds removed and are now being controlled by another Mind, or else operating similarly to the "small m" minds. There may be a few other types, as well, but the Mindscape is brimming with mysteries. All that to say, this creature may have a Mind, or it may not. If it operates at a certain level of Mental ability, your lifecode should, in fact, do the trick. If not, you'll have to settle for alternate attacks.
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Aug 13, 2019 02:22
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1. I think is the best bet, find out what we're dealing with and we can figure out how best to defend ourselves
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Aug 13, 2019 02:47
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HBar posted:1. Does that thing even have a mind? Lifecode persuasion won't work if it doesn't. Stoner Sloth posted:1. I think is the best bet, find out what we're dealing with and we can figure out how best to defend ourselves You focus on the creature, and open your Mind to the knowledge of the Mindscape. Information trickles in, tiny bits of data from dozens of different Minds, who release what they Know for your use. GLIMMER OF INSIGHT Glimmer of Insight: 1d20 17  The creature is a Nibbler, a Mindless being which feeds on Mental Power and channels it to whatever Mind controls it. The wild form of the Nibbler inhabits the outer rim of the Mindscape, in The Wanton Ring. They are highly chaotic creatures usually, attacking packs of Minds and isolating the weakest to absorb its Mental Power. This particular being is controlled by a Controller known as Zadateth, who has a Construct many greater spans to the north of the ruins of Orthemka. This is your first Mental contact with another Controller that has a Construct in your own reality, and it sends a frisson through your Mind. The phrase “hot diggity drat” comes to mind, although you can’t quite pin down the source. What’s more, you can determine a Locus for the Controller Mind, and you know exactly where its Construct is in your reality.  “Excuse me, Controller.” says an iO Shiamara voice. “I don’t usually like to use the emergency contact system, but there’s a delegation of ambassadors from Port Pondskipper here to see you, and they won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” “What? This is hardly the time for me to be dealing with something like this! Can’t they wait a few minutes?” “They say that since you’re in their bay, you should be beholden to them. They won’t wait.” “For thox’s sake-” you mutter, frustrated. “Fine, let them in and stick them in a… meeting chamber, or something. The least terrifying room in the Construct we got.” In the meantime, the creature has begun to try to feed on you. SAVE AGAINST NIBBLER ATTACK: Resistance: 1d20+1 2 It feels like a fish-hook is pulling your brain out through your nose, as the creature draws your Mental Power forcefully out of you. An echoing chorus of hoarse whispers fills your Mind, saying only “more, more, more.”  “Controller, the delegation from Port Pondskipper are assembled in the Atmospheric Filtration Corridor. We’ve made them some iO Shiamara snacks, I hope that humans can eat those?” “Uh, probably…” you say, distractedly, your Mind reeling with vertigo. “How different could they be?” You break away from the creature’s Mental attack; you can sense that you’ve lost some of your Mental Power, consumed by the Nibbler. As you take a moment to recover, Eye Guy focuses a Mental attack of his own on the beast. You permit yourself a moment to speak to the delegation from Port Pondskipper. “Hello, yes, can I help you?” you say, trying not to sound as impatient as you very much are.  “Are you the Controller they call Maurice?” says a tall, thin man in a very nice coat. “Unfortunately. Was there something you needed from me?” “I’m Puilford Wetmelon, Mayor and Chairperson of the Municipal Council of The City of Port Pondskipper. I recently had an interesting visit from a few young iO Shiamara ladies; they claimed the Construct was taken by someone they knew, and was now ‘probably no longer a threat’ with the caveat: ‘but you never know for sure with Maurice.’ We’ve come to check up on the validity of that testimony.” You quickly check the battle with the Nibbler in the aftermath of Eye Guys’ attack. Whatever directive power controlled the Nibbler seems to have been severed entirely: what was once a fearsome and keen Mental predator is stumbling about like a drunken beastbeest, going first a bit one way then, turning and starting in another, making sounds of stress and confusion. “We want you to know,” says Wetmelon, in a nasally voice like the high C# reed on your whistlehorn. “that if you are, in fact, not an aggressive Construct, we would like to make terms of peace and economic co-prosperity with you.” His voice just sounds like a song to you now, it’s difficult to not imagine contraharmonies against his monologue. “We will happily abide the presence of your Construct, as long as you agree to use its abilities and powers for the benefit of Port Pondskipper and its people. Are those terms amenable to you?” Now Maricei moves to strike, her hand making a horizontal slicing motion towards the Nibbler. A split seems to form in the planar reality around the creature, slicing through its torso. For just a moment, the two halves of the Nibbler seem to shift independently of one another, before the creature shrugs off the attack, its cohesion returning in a snap.  “First of all, Mister Wetmelon,” you begin, putting on your friendliest tone and trying to focus on two places at once, “thank you for coming to see me. I’m pleased to hear my Resistance comrades have spread the word. You’re correct, I am the harbinger of a new order among the Constructors.” Ooh, you like the sound of that. “And you’ll be pleased to know my iO Shiamara are already hard at work on harnessing a plane of elemental fire to create a free source of lightmake and heat for your city’s inhabitants and industries. It should be finished in due time.” You’ve recovered enough that you can make an attack of your own: NEUROCASCADE ATTACK Neurocascade [D20]: 1d20 8  The Nibbler yelps and becomes a mass of flailing limbs, running at full speed away from your party. You have gained +1 to Neurocascade attacks and damage checks! “Excellent,” replies Wetmelon.  “Hate to be a bother,” says another member of the Pondskipper delegation, a small white-haired woman, “shouldn’t have had that glass of hot skunny before we popped over, would you happen to have a head?” “Do… I have a head?” you ask, confused. What an odd question. “I do, yes, my original body still-” “Oh, no, I’m sorry.” interrupts the woman again, “that’s just what we Skippers call the lavatory. Have you got a place for that… here?” she asks, looking in frightened awe at the strange architecture of the Construct. As if sensing her eyes, a wall pulses venously. She shudders. “Oh, uh… I’ll have an iO Shiamara show you… I’m sure they’ve got something like that. Probably. Hopefully.” “What was that thing?” says Maricei, breathlessly. “A Nibbler.” you respond, as if you’ve known forever and didn’t just look it up. “Feeds off of Mental Power.” “Why did it attack us?” asks Eye Guy, dusting himself off out of Beaten Lands habit. “It was being Controlled, by a Constructor called Zadateth. Apparently, a neighbor of mine in the Beaten Lands. I think that this beast was sent to attack me.” You turn and point towards the ever-looming Constructor cities at the center of the Mindscape. “Zadateth’s Locus is in that direction, some two-thirds of the way between ourselves and the Constructor cities.”  1.) Continue to Meditor 2.) Visit Zadateth’s Locus 3.) Write in: Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Current Mental Power Level: ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting] Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 18:05 on Aug 15, 2019 |
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Aug 15, 2019 06:15
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1. Meditor would be a good place to recuperate after the attack. We should assume that Zadateth is powerful and prepared for a fight, and not approach until we're stronger and well prepared too.
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Aug 15, 2019 06:46
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HBar posted:1. Meditor would be a good place to recuperate after the attack. We should assume that Zadateth is powerful and prepared for a fight, and not approach until we're stronger and well prepared too. This. Also let's get one of our iO Shamara buddies to accompany the member of the delegation on their bathroom trip so as they don't get lost... maybe I'm just being paranoid but given the timing of the delegation there's a chance that maybe one or more of them are in the service of an enemy Controller so having them run loose in our construct is a bad idea. Let's be hospitable and polite of course, and try to see what else we can do to help Port Pondskipper, but let's also be smart and cautious just in case since we face an enemy that is intelligent, powerful and prepared!
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Aug 15, 2019 07:42
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Our gang didn't leave us on the best of terms, if I recall they asked us to leave and threatened to destroy us if we didn't. While they may have changed their mind since then I find it suspicious that they told these folks that we are "probably alright" or that they would have been on board with a delegation attempting to negotiate an alliance without them, I suspect a trick. I'm not mad about it, it's what I would do if an unstable and suspiciously competent ally suddenly became as a god, but my guess is the white haired lady is at best, a spy tasked with looking around for weaknesses, and at worst an assassin/saboteur, possibly even an unknowing one if our old friends provided her with certain devices without her knowledge, from bugs to bombs. I vote for invasive scans if we have them, and giant menacing escorts, do we still have any of them Orthemka or whatever? The giant crossbow robot dudes I mean?
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Aug 15, 2019 08:44
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Pustulio posted:Our gang didn't leave us on the best of terms, if I recall they asked us to leave and threatened to destroy us if we didn't. While they may have changed their mind since then I find it suspicious that they told these folks that we are "probably alright" or that they would have been on board with a delegation attempting to negotiate an alliance without them, I suspect a trick. Yeah, not sure that's a great idea - we don't want to menace these people especially if they're not knowingly working for anyone or in case they're actually innocent. This could be our best chance to shape an alliance with non-Constructors. Subtle scans and friendly escorts with us ready to use the Constructor's defences if anything seems about to go awry would be my recommendation - we have to show some measure of trust if we want others to trust us, though we should also verify that they are trustworthy without being aggressive about it imo.
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Aug 15, 2019 09:10
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We menace them by existing, if they are on the up and up then we can still make a deal, and if they aren't then it won't matter how nice to them we are.
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Aug 15, 2019 16:12
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Pustulio posted:Our gang didn't leave us on the best of terms, if I recall they asked us to leave and threatened to destroy us if we didn't. While they may have changed their mind since then I find it suspicious that they told these folks that we are "probably alright" or that they would have been on board with a delegation attempting to negotiate an alliance without them, I suspect a trick. Stoner Sloth posted:Subtle scans and friendly escorts with us ready to use the Constructor's defences if anything seems about to go awry would be my recommendation - we have to show some measure of trust if we want others to trust us, though we should also verify that they are trustworthy without being aggressive about it imo. Something bothers you about the sunny endorsement the dignitaries claim you've been given by your friends in the Resistance, who were last seen yelling that you were no better than the Constructors and storming out on you. It makes you a bit suspicious. You check your Construct to see if there’s any Orthemka left. You sense only three remaining:    Your Controller mind knows that a cadre granted by the Controller of the City of Orthemka usually contains seven. The iO Shiamara Resistance killed one. How many did you kill again? There was definitely one. Was there a second one? (Did you know they had names when you killed them?) Ugh, so much fighting, for so long. Is it possible to feel existentially exhausted as a Controller Mind? Anyhow, you tell the Orthemkas--Orthemkae? Ah who cares--to mosey on over to your neck of the Construct, and post themselves along the path to the iO Shiamara shitter. Hopefully this was a strong yet subtle enough guard to seem practical and not threatening; you’re loathe to threaten a new peace if that is indeed what’s on offer here. But you can’t ignore your instincts, either. “Keep a close eye on her, would you?” you say to the iO Shiamara guiding the Pondskipper dignitary to the loo. “Don’t take your eyes off her for a second.”  “Even when she’s, y’know…” “I think so, yes. I’m sorry if this is um- awkward for you, but I have reason to be a bit paranoid.” “I really don’t want to watch this old lady go to the toilet, Controller. Maybe if you… Controlled me?” she says, hopefully. “A bit?” “We talked about the Control thing already.” “It’s a pretty big ask.” You consider. Besides room and board, you don’t really have any other way of remunerating the iO Shiamara. But they wish to toil. Maybe if they want Control you could mete it out in small quantities as recompense for a job well done? That doesn’t make you terrible, does it? They want it, you have it, and it would all be completely consensual! Nobody who didn’t want to do the task would be Controlled to do it, that would be bad. What you’re considering is… well, this goes beyond morally grey into morally interdimensional hyperpurple. When did you start having such odd considerations to take into account? 1.) Just Control her and get it over with! 2.) “Alright, I’ll give you a little Control if you do this duty.” 3.) “No Control; do it, or find someone who will.” 4.) “Nevermind. Just take her there, then give her privacy.” 5.) Write-in: Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting] Brawnfire fucked around with this message at 21:39 on Aug 17, 2019 |
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Aug 17, 2019 21:37
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1) Also This reminds me of Floquinho from Monica's Gang: 
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Aug 19, 2019 01:27
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3 or 4 This is a universe with a literal moral fabric. We know that Control is addictive to those being Controlled, it's probably also addictive to those who do the Controlling. Bottom line is we can either be Maurice, or we can be a Controller. We can't do bad things and justify them any more than people who torture can say it's for a good reason and not still be torturers. Even in a worst case scenario, preserving the Construct isn't worth giving in and becoming a Controller. Let's do what we can in terms of security but at the end of the day some prices are too high to pay.
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Aug 19, 2019 03:16
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Not right now, but I can give you a little extra control at bedtime for a job well done.
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Aug 19, 2019 06:06
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Oh no I catch back up on the moral quandry questions. 2, not because we want to do it, but because weaning them off of it is going to be a longer process than instant. Until we actually have the luxury of time to come up with some system to actively try to fix their addiction/dependency on it, I think it's an inevitable fact that sometimes we're going to have to play the role they want of us. We're the one controlling the dose, we can be responsible with it.
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Aug 19, 2019 10:01
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Seems there's some difference of philosophies! I'm currently working on an update for the other thread, so you'll gave some more time to discuss this wee conundrum if you like. HBar posted:Not right now, but I can give you a little extra control at bedtime for a job well done. FlocksOfMice posted:2, not because we want to do it, but because weaning them off of it is going to be a longer process than instant. Until we actually have the luxury of time to come up with some system to actively try to fix their addiction/dependency on it, I think it's an inevitable fact that sometimes we're going to have to play the role they want of us. So far, these seem to be the most _,.-'~'-.,__,.-'~'-.,__,.-'*synergistic*'-.,__,.-'~'-.,__,.-'~'-.,_ votes, so if nothing changes before the next update, I guess this iO Shiamara will be getting an extra Control cookie in her bedtime snack.
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Aug 19, 2019 17:16
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Always a good thing! hmmm on the synergistic note, could work with that... think I have an idea for how to use Control to wean the iO Shamara off of the addiction to it. It's still a bit ethically dubious imo, and feels like we're being manipulated by a junkie needing a fix, but we could basically later ask this particular iO Shamara about how the lack of being Controlled is making her feel, hows it effecting her confidence, etc and then use a weak sort of Control to give her a boost of the feelings/confidence/sense of control she's lacking while trying to make her more resistant to Control and building up both her ability to live without it independently and feelings that she doesn't need it. Do it subtly so we're not rewiring her brain or anything, just sorta using Control like a combination of rehab, counselling and methadone to wean her off it? Not sure on how that stands morally but seems like it might be okay if it's to help her and gives informed consent to try this experiment (we'd have to offer her an alternative of just regular Control and do it with her knowledge and okay to do it imo)
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Aug 19, 2019 20:55
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Stoner Sloth posted:Always a good thing! “Hmm. What is your name, iO Shiamara?” The young woman looks a bit taken aback. “Wmra.” she says, shyly. “A Controller has never asked my name before.” “Well, Worma.” you say, certain you’re butchering the pronunciation, “how does it make you feel to lack Control?” “Oh. Uh, directionless, I guess? Aimless, sort of like nothing stands out as something I’d like to do. I kind of feel like, I want to do everything? Like my hands are active and my mind too, but at the same time I feel like I could just do nothing, you know?” “Sure, sure” you say. “So you like Control for the clarity of purpose it gives you?” “I suppose.” she says. “I barely remember a time before Control. I know I used to have hobbies, interests, even a career I was working on. But when I was selected to serve a Controller, all that kind of got pushed aside for whatever the Controller needed me to do.” “What if, instead of Control, I amplified your own feelings again? Your own interests would feel worthwhile again, and whatever you decide to do, you will have the wherewithal to complete the task to the best of your ability. In a sense, you’d be more you than you’ve ever been.” “This is possible?” Wmra inquires, hopefully. “I feel like I’ve been in a grey cloud so long, just following the bright light of Control. If you can make the cloud go away…” she starts crying, big globby tears pouring down her face. “We can work on it. Perhaps if it works, your fellow iO Shiamara will be interested in it as well.” You can only hope. You’ve been sensing a little discontentment among the iO Shiamara as the day stretches on without any Control. You promised them some before bedtime, but you’re starting to worry they won’t even make it that long. “There’s just one thing I need for you to do, while I attempt this treatment.” Wmra sniffles, and wipes her nose on her shiny sleeve. “Watch the old lady pee?” “Yeah.” you reply, though you’d have put it less crassly. “Thanks, Worma.” Wmra and the ambassador from Port Pondskipper proceed down the corridor to one of the iO Shiamara privies. You don’t seem to have any sensors in there--that must be something the Controllers had worked out with the iO Shiamara. It is for this reason you had to ask Wmra to perform the solemn duty of watching a guest micturate. You don’t like not being able to see everything that’s happening. While they stroll down the corridor, you blast the Skipper lady with as many sensors as you can muster. You probe with with the full gamut of the spectrum, sound and light and some things you only understand but barely. There is something in the pocket of her garment, but you can’t be sure exactly what it is: it looks like it may be some multiple-attachment tool, with bits for unscrewing and cutting and even pulling corks out of bottles. You recall fondly that Grentana got you a silver-plated version of the aforementioned tool shortly after your engagement, as a fruitless attempt to get you to stop tearing out corks with your teeth. You can’t really fault a woman from Port Pondskipper for having a tool, but all the same you don’t like it. People are tricky, and desperate people trickier still. Wmra better keep a close eye on this one- Eye Guy jostles your shoulder. “I think we’re nearing Meditor.” he says, as if it weren’t the first iteration of the statement. “Hey, there you are.” “Sorry,” you reply, a bit dazed. There’s much to pay attention to, and it’s very easy to forget about other threads while you follow the one. Sure enough, something is ahead, and growing closer as you move.  “Is that Meditor?” asks Maricei. “Looks weird.” “Who knows what this Locus represents.” you say. “Like the Lykeion, the nature of Meditor is mutually decided by all who comprise it.” “A bunch of weirdoes, then, in my humble opinion.” says Maricei. “It’s all throbby and whatnot.” “Everything’s throbby in the Mindscape.” snarks Eye Guy. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at half the time, and can’t tell it apart from my own thoughts the other half.” “Let’s just get there, I need-”  “Heya, Controller!” says the frightening-looking iO Shiamara who suddenly takes over your vision. “Vuldon!” you cry out. “What the- How did you-?” “I’m Thwrma! Remember? I’m head of the drone project? It was a priority one project, so I-” “I thought Worma was the girl I sent to watch the old lady pee?” There’s a short, awkward silence as Thwrma absorbs what you’ve just said. “Er, anyhow,” he carries on briskly, “I’m Thwrma, THED-WOR-REM-MOWT-ANG. We’ve talked before.” “Of course!” you reply. “Thaurma!” Thwrma permits himself a moment to compose his emotions. He looks extremely irritable, and a bit twitchy. “ANY-how, again, our team has completed the integration of your chosen face onto your drone. So, work completed. Now you have to take Control of it. lucky thoxing drone” he says, the last bit under his breath. Where should we take the drone first?  Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Current Mental Power Level: ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting]
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Aug 22, 2019 21:05
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Going to Port Pondskipper unannounced right now would terrify people and ruin the talks. How long would it take to scout Zadateth's construct? We should think about preparing a simultaneous physical attack for when we're ready to face him mentally. Ask the Resistance what they think about it while they're here.
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Aug 24, 2019 02:05
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HBar posted:Going to Port Pondskipper unannounced right now would terrify people and ruin the talks. How long would it take to scout Zadateth's construct? We should think about preparing a simultaneous physical attack for when we're ready to face him mentally. Ask the Resistance what they think about it while they're here. Looks like you've got the steering wheel, buddy! The next update will be tomorrow so more votes/suggestions/questions/comments are welcome!
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Aug 26, 2019 04:07
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HBar posted:Going to Port Pondskipper unannounced right now would terrify people and ruin the talks. How long would it take to scout Zadateth's construct? We should think about preparing a simultaneous physical attack for when we're ready to face him mentally. Ask the Resistance what they think about it while they're here. Yeah I like this plan, so long as we're careful not to be spotted if possible while doing recon.
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Aug 26, 2019 04:11
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I swear there's a post upcoming! I just can't say when. Time moves... differently, here.
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Aug 28, 2019 05:18
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“It’s just… a big sphere.” says Eye Guy.  “I agree, it’s a big sphere.” You’re not sure what to make of this. This is absolutely the Locus of Meditor, so the big sphere must be Meditor. “How do we get in?” asks Maricei. You stare at the sphere as it undulates. Its presence feels almost like an absence: the sphere is not Meditor, but Meditor defines the negative space represented by the sphere. That doesn’t help you get in, though, does it? It doesn’t even make any particular kind of sense, beyond being some poetic semantic construct. “Its surface is smooth.” says Eye Guy. “Unbroken.” The three of you walk around the sphere several times, muttering in frustration and disbelief. “How the Squiv?” you cry out. “I’m gonna have to waste another Glimmer of Insight on this, aren’t I?” “Let me try to flip into it.” says Maricei. “What?” you ask, befuddled. “Flip?” “Oh, that’s what I call my ability to kind of… jump to the side a little bit. You saw it earlier, I think, when I fought Skrappi. It’s a good way to avoid things, and also get into places you’re not meant to be.” She concentrates. Maricei’s form begins to seem less “fixed” in her surroundings. She grows fuzzy and slowly separates into two, as though you are watching her through crossed eyes. The images drift apart: one ghostly Maricei drifts into the sphere. Then, the image snaps back into focus, and Maricei is no longer there.  “That’s a pretty crazy talent.” you say. “Try being hunted down by someone who can do that.” says Eye Guy, ruefully. “I see Skrappi’s done sulking at the back of your Mind, Eye Guy.” “Why did you have to go inviting her for?” he demands. “She doesn’t belong here, Skrappi.” you answer. “She doesn’t belong in the Beaten Lands, she doesn’t belong in my Construct, and she certainly doesn’t belong in the Mindscape. She very clearly went through all this effort to find you and make amends. You can’t even talk to her?” “She had the chance to talk when she was-” “-hunting you down across the Trodden Place, gaba bada dada, I know. You’ve said it enough. She’s obviously devastated by what she was made to do, Skrappi.” you admonish. “You have no idea what it’s like to be under the thrall of the Constructors. They’re more powerful than you can ever conceive of. The fact that she broke away from their influence makes her one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.” You look Eye Guy right in his weird eyes, the colors swapping rapidly between left and right as he glares back at you impetuously. “There’s worse people to put your trust in than someone who defied death and slavery to find you and beg forgiveness.” “You don’t know. You didn’t experience any of it.” You sigh. “If that’s what you want to hold onto, Skrappi. Myself, I’ve learned that no allies are perfect, but trust has to start somewhere if we’re ever going to align against the true enemy. Ask Raggart how trustworthy we’ve been to one another. And look at me now, trying to garner the help of the evil Constructors. Do you think I stand a chance in Squiv?” Eye Guy is silent, but he seems to be thinking. The ghostly image of Maricei strolls out of the sphere. A second later, an afterimage of her follows, and the two conjoin to form a solid presence. “Welp, it’s a big sphere.” “What do you mean?” you ask. “Exactly that.” she replies. “Big sphere. Just like this, but inside you’re looking out. Kind of at nothing, but the nothing-” “-the nothing defines the sphere.” you finish for her. “Yeah.” she says, surprised. There’s a beatific look on her features. “It’s very serene.” Perhaps that’s it. What did Aristotélēs say about Meditor? Aristotélēs posted:“Meditor, a Locus which attracts those Minds whose purpose is meditative contemplation. As a rule, they do not pay much attention to the form of the Mindscape. They believe that such things aren’t worth concerning oneself about; it is better to turn the mind inwards to enlightenment.” “This must be some sort of amalgamation of concepts of enlightenment as understood by all the Minds of Meditor. I think we’re seeing the closest thing we’ll ever get to-” “Yanaverena.” mumbles Maricei. Eye Guy snorts. “What’s that?” you ask. “A concept of spiritual transcendence. It’s from the Jangulote philosophy from the nation of Bewm across the Ostersey from what is now The Trodden Place.” replies Maricei. Eye Guy snorts again, this time with a scoff. “In my opinion, a load of fluiully. Brains are slabs of meat, incapable of more than what they do, and when they die it’s lights out.” “Thank you for your opinion on a four-thousand-year-old religion, Skrappi.” “It’s Eye Guy; this is both of my opinion. Anything with perfection, ascendence, a heaven, it’s all bollocks.” “You’ve met the Risen, and there’s the Mindscape…” you say. “Not even close to the same thing. There’s no perfection here, there’s no enlightenment. It’s just more existence, more violence, another game of life and death with different rules.” You have difficulty disagreeing with him fully, but it strikes you as cynical. Although, since when did you stop being cynical, yourself? “I think what we need to do,” you say, “is clear our Minds” Resources: ⤐Controller Abilities ⤐Current Mental Power Level: ⤐Inventory ⤐Characters ⤐Maps ⤐Glossary of Terms ⤐Our Story So Far... ⤐Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands [Other CYOAs in this setting]
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Aug 29, 2019 06:18
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Elsewhere in the Beaten Lands...  Jored’l’m sipped happily at his ceramic cup of whoreswine milk. He burped contentedly, relieving the pressure of gas in his gut just enough to comfortably sit forward and peer into his far-looker’s eyepiece. The whoreswine slept happily under his seat; he’d had to go all the way out to the smoldering ruins of the monastery of The Brotherhood of What’s Left and collect the creature, but it had been worth it.  For two days he had curiously tracked the movements of the party who had assaulted him and demanded use of his far-looker. While they’d come back with some cheese by means of recompense, Jored’l’m was still feeling a bit sore from the encounter. The watching was definitely not dull; after starting off by destroying a Construct and then burning the monastery, the party then went to Home, only to immediately go out and instigate a massive firefight with Dunestriders at Oasis. This somehow also involved Crymsun Guard members. Within moments, everyone was dead but the travellers. Most of them returned to Home in a stolen armored go-box, only to go back out, blow up the Dome of the Cult of the Great Shift, which opened some kind of Rift, then they travelled out beyond the range of Jored’l’m’s far-viewer to Port Pondskipper.  A Spark appeared in the Spark chamber. Ah, good! Larid’n’m had responded to Jored’l’m’s own Spark sent out to Port Pondskipper earlier that day. He drained the gritty dregs of his milk and set the cup down to pull the Receive lever, which allowed the Spark into the listening box. He put his ear up to the horn; Sparks were always hard as Squiv to hear. ”Larid’n’m’s Spark <Translated from Doraldnki> posted:<Shamwow, Doraldnki brother. It has been too long. I am sorry to hear of your experiences in the Beaten Lands. I have found much success in the city of Port Pondskipper as a physician for other Doraldnki refugees. It was good to hear from Larid’n’m, even if they’d had a bit of a disagreement during the Exodus. Tensions were high at the time, though. Perhaps the time had come to accept his offer. There was a pounding on the door. Who in the Three Lesiums could that be? Jored’l’m gruffly spoke into the voice tube: “Whaddya want?” “We’ve got a few questions for you, mate. Why’n’ya open that door up?” “Topping the list is my functional brain. You can ask me questions through a tube, I believe in you.” There was a hesitation. Jored’l’m overheard the harsh tones of a whispered argument, though he couldn’t make out the contents. “I have better things to do than wait for your lover’s spat to end. If your question is important enough to pound at my door, get to asking.” Jored’l’m had no patience for this sort of thing. Why hide out in the desert at all if everyone’s just going to come harass me anyhow? Port Pondskipper was starting to look attractive. “What do you know of the whereabouts of the Marquess Broadanus d’Morani?” “Who’s asking?” “Marzhanna the Merciless, Assassin Queen of the Beaten Lands. She has some things to discuss with him.”
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Aug 29, 2019 21:50
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I think one or two more "Slice of Life" stories before we meander back to the main story-line. Anyone have any suggestions for characters or places they might like to peek in on?
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Aug 30, 2019 22:28
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maybe the ruined city of Orthemka?
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Aug 30, 2019 23:04
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The Trodden Place, or one of the other worlds out there.
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Aug 31, 2019 04:49
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HBar posted:The Trodden Place, or one of the other worlds out there. “You’re a chickenshit coward, you know that?” spits Vanx across the table at the Director. His ochre ale is forgotten now; he’s too furious to drink.  “Really now, have some composure, man.” the Director replies. “We’re in public.”  “In any other world, I could kill you for what you’ve done.” “Maybe.” the Director shrugs. “But in the Trodden Place, you’d be signing your own death warrant.” Vanx stares at the Director for a long, tense moment, then wads up the piece of paper and drowns it in the ale. “You can chork yourself in the polemaker.” He flings himself out of the chair, trying not to show his angry shaking. Everyone is watching him while pretending not to watch him; they’re intensely and silently entranced by their food and beverage. Yeah, everybody look at the man who can’t hold himself together. It’s all about face isn’t it, even when you’re getting megachorked by the company you’ve given your life to. This is why no-one trusts the Odiusee. He has half a mind to travel right across the Scarred Wastes to Maronee and drop every single bit of info he has right in their laps, see if that gets him anywhere. They may be brothersuckers of the highest caliber but at least they were loyal to their own. That’s why Odiusee was a grimy company town filled with sallow-faced slaves, and Maronee was a shiny company town filled with chubby-faced slaves. But that would also be, as the Director put it, “signing his own death warrant.” Triple shits! Vanx thinks as he waits for the wirecar to slowly creep up to the kerb where he stands. He hops over a chasm of filth-encrusted cobblestone onto the lowest step, feeling the traction grooves in the dingsteel through the paper-thin soles of his shoes. Another luxury I’m not going to able to afford, after this turn of events. It’ll be back to five-nail boots before long.  The wirecar stinks like wirespark and torqer grease, and the packed sweaty dankness of humanity. With a pathetic keen, it shudders forwards and back onto its perennial circuit, banking left onto Commerce Causeway with its row of stately brick buildings carefully perched on either side of the heavily-trafficked bridge. As the wire-car trundles over the causeway, Vanx can feel the churning thunder of the megamill as it gobbles up the River Slykk and shits it back out again, making wirespark and grinding grist and pulverizing rock and hammering metal. The Slykk was the hardest worker in this chorked town, and the Maronee Kin were doing their level best to make it sick and empty, as well. There’s a group of Klenck working on the causeway; the companies often hired out the strange and mechanically-inclined people, who lived in a place they called Haven in the pulverized gravel desert of the Trodden Place. Vanx can hear them arguing with a tall Odiusee Director: something about needing to turn off a turbine, which the Director did not seem keen on doing. The Klenck is adamant that someone--or many someones--could die horribly if the turbine were not deactivated. The Director is adamant that full productivity is required without surcease. A man who had been gibbering to himself in a corner of the wire-car now stands to approach Vanx. “Excuse me, sair. Sair. Have you heard about the Dark?”  Vanx does not respond. He turns his shoulder in such a way that suggests he’s lost his hearing rather suddenly, thank you, good day. “It’s coming, from another universe. One that’s not even another one of our universes, that’s how another universe it is! You see, there’s realities, and there’s realities branching out from those realities.” The man makes a wiggling motion with his bony, chewed-nail fingers. “But all those are the same!” He clenches the wiggles into a fist. Then, he produces another hand of wiggles, to be similarly ensnared within fist. “But the other’n is a whole other’n! And the Dark has come back from Oblivion there, oh yes, they’re necromantickal! And they’re gobbling us up, right now.” The man stares at the sky through the wire-car’s rusty metal ceiling. “I believe this is my stop.” Vanx lies, and he steps off the still-moving wirecar with a minor stumble. “Bye byeeeee!” says the man as the wire-car pulls away. Well, Vanx’s apartment was still many blocks past the Causeway. He decides to take a break and a seat at the Bridgehanger Bar and Spit, which is happily just across the street. After a hazardous navigation through stubborn daytime traffic, once nearly getting trampled by a pullmoose, he walks in the door.  “Vanx Cake-a-Lady, I believe?” says the bartender. “Someone’s waiting for you in the back booth.” “I doubt it.” says Vanx, a bit taken aback that anyone knew his surname, let alone that anyone was expecting him. “I just stumbled in here off the wire-car.” “Nonetheless.” the bartender says, as she gestures to the rear. “Your party awaits you.” Vanx trepidatiously approaches the dim recesses of the bar, wading through air murky with bicannabis smoke. A dark velvet curtain hangs over a cushioned nook; a woman’s well-manicured hand reaches over to draw it back.  “Vanx. Right on schedule.” “And you are?” he asks. “You can call me Agent Frost. I’m here to tell you about a group of people who need your skills and knowledge to save the multiverse. I’ve heard you’re a bit down on your luck. We can help you turn that around.”
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Aug 31, 2019 20:27
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You may have all noticed I've been a little quiet on the update front. That's because I've been working on the Beaten Lands Wiki!!! A community-editable font of information about everything Beaten Lands! I'm adding articles as quick as I can, but feel free to put things in there yourself if you feel like it! https://beaten-lands.fandom.com/wiki/Beaten_Lands_Wiki
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Sep 3, 2019 00:24
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Another existential fragment, this time with a choice...Stoner Sloth posted:maybe the ruined city of Orthemka? “ORTHEMKA GROUP C IN SUBDISTRICT 45, IT IS YOUR TIME FOR PROVENDER.”  Mywcl throws a glare towards the Constructor-make loudspeaker as the message bursts out from its cones. From deep within her armor, her augmented stomach gurgles with hunger, the kind that comes not from genuine want for food but the regularity of schedule. With reluctance she heads towards the provender station, hearing with Constructor-make ears as her heavy bootfalls echo off the buildings.  The facades facing the central avenue of Orthemka are discordant, patched, mismatched. The little which remains of pre-Incursion architecture is shifted about, warped from plumb angles into alien and ugly forms. Some of the rest are cobbled together for functionality by the Orthemkans, replete with aesthetic evidence of their damaged psyches. Most structures, however, were the ugly and bizarre designs of the iO Shiamara, for work or habitation or production or the service of their Constructor masters.  “Eat well and stay strong, humble servant of the Constructors.” says the smiling iO Shiamara as he doles out provender. The food is a furtive glance towards the traditional foods of the Orthemkan people, but altered to include increased nutrition and drugs for mental pliability. Mywcl feels the pangs of subtle addiction as she contemplates the drugs; those would feel so good inside her blood, in her brain, soothing, allowing Control. She takes the tray of cuisine in her strong, steady Constructor-make arm: the prosthesis’ nerves had entwined with her own since she was in the Womb of the City, replacing what would have been a gnarl of tissue attached to her shoulder. Her curled toes of the left foot were similarly augmented, repaired to the point where normal use would no longer produce knot of scar tissue, and woven into Constructor-make boots of incredible agility. She was one of the luckier ones; even now a Tanker was crawling by on their treads towards the provender station.  Tankers were practically beyond even Constructor ability to repair and render humanoid. Some wad of flesh barely quantifiable as human floated in recycling fluids within the trundling metal cage of the Tanker: the Constructors liked to amp up the brainpower and visual acuity of the Tankers and strap artillery to them for their larger military operations.  “Tocks, if I could speak to you a moment.” says an official-looking iO Shiamara, who strides out from a building as the Tanker passes. The Tanker stops, and pivots slightly on its treads as if to listen. “I’m glad to have run into you, I was going to send you a wave but I prefer to speak to you in person. LECIO has informed me that the Construct at Port Pondskipper has been taken, by the Child of Two Worlds.” >>them again>>i hear that name often these days>> “Indeed, the Child of Two Worlds has been an unexpected thorn in our side. Surprising, after so long having just been a drunken disappointment. Something must have really given him a kick in the pants. But my orders are clear: eradication of the Construct at Port Pondskipper and its adjacent Construct in the Bay of Rilex. We are planning an offensive in both universes simultaneously. We have to strike hard, and fast. I’m gonna need the Tankers in full force.” >>i shall muster them>>i will send you a wave>> “Good on you, Tocks. You’ve served the Constructors well many times before, and I have no doubt in your capacity to perform.” The iO Shiamara official stops, and looks curiously over at Mywcl, who has paused with her tray to listen. “You there, do you believe this concerns you?” “Forgiveness, Their Hands, my curiosity about events overcame my better judgment. I shall carry on my way.” “Understandable. It’s strange times. Too much resistance. Not like it used to be.” The iO Shiamara looks affronted by the concept of resistance to Constructor rule. As LECIO’s Hands in the City of Orthemka, Control was his life. Who would deny the crystal-clear direction of the Constructors, the irreplaceable sense of ultimate purpose that so many people suffered from lacking? “Carry on, Orthemka.” Mywcl carries on her way, as promised, but considers what she has heard. There’s a strange prickle of excitement inside of her at the idea of the tides turning, even slightly, against the omnipotent Constructors. Control revolted inside of her at the idea, but the human inside her shouted for freedom even still. A sudden slight movement of shadow on shadow catches her attention, drawing her gaze to an alley between two iO Shiamara structures. She peers into the dark corridor, and spots a human figure. Without hesitation for thought, her hand darts out and snags the human.  “Release me!” cries the man, angrily. “I can kill you, and I will!” “Yet you haven’t. Who are you? How did you get here?” demands Mywcl. “Do you have a portal device somewhere?” “I don’t have to tell you anything!” spits the human. “But I can guess. You’re some sort of resistance spy, from one faction or another.” “Nah, I’m a baker. I specialize in making ripplebreads for Cariti holy days.” “There’s a lot of Orthemkae in this city. Control is spread thin, so I could go one of two ways: send a wave and get LECIO’s attention real quick, or act real calm and maybe--maybe--hear you out.” “What in the Beaten Lands… an Orthemka hearing out a resistance spy?” scoffs the human man. “You really think I’d buy that for a second?” “Maybe I’m different.” Mywcl says, not even sure herself. 1.) Mywcl reports the spy to LECIO. 2.) Mywcl releases the spy, and speaks no more of it. 3.) Mywcl is determined to help the spy.
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Sep 5, 2019 22:03
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