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Awake
Feb 10, 2010 5:28:11 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Feb 10, 2010 5:28:11 GMT -5
Tdoht had the photos of the engraving spread out on a desk. He was taking another long shot to see if maybe there was more to the cipher than what had been recently discovered. So far, he hadn't come across much. But he also had to rely heavily on a transcript due to not being tremendously familiar with the language.
Xoto was accompanied by a linguistics page, a kid working on a degree in anthropological linguistics. He had a lot of footnotes in the transcripts he made from the engravings, and until now, Tdoht hadn't thought much of them. It wasn't really his area.
He thought about the problem of the engravings containing referrences to contemporary historical information unavailible back in circa 300-400 CE when this tomb was supposedly constructed. The first assumption was that somebody added things to it. Possibly even devotees. It was highly suspicious, but samples had been sent to the lab and they wouldn't know the results of carbon dating for a while.
In the page's notes, basically written on a photocopy of the photos of the engravings taken by Billy, he had noted that the style of writing was not era-consistent. Despite the actual workmanship of the newer parts of the engraving appearing to be, as the page literally put it: "Disturbingly consistent". Which made it seem that maybe the entire engraving had been done at the same time and made to look aged. But the lab would be able to determine if a chemical was used to make the older parts weathered.
Xoto came in and looked over at one of the possible phrases from the unused portions:
"Tuna party?", he asked.
"No thanks.", said Tdoht, "Oh.. yeah. I think that's actually a misinterpretation of something. Or maybe it's some weird thing that the Page wrote down accidentally on this paper.
The page circled this one spot in the unused section though. And then he massively mistranslated it, but look at these notes."
Xoto took a look and read aloud: "I know this is a stretch, and it's very contemporary and era-inconsistent-sounding, but I kept reading this bit, and by itself, it's kept me up at night with creeps."
Xoto looked at Tdoht and shrugged and then continued reading, "If I do more contemporary translation of the Pargalonian into Kohtohkhan and transpose it out of the natural connotive tone, Green in this case, and put it into the grey connotive tone, which is actually improper, based on the context implied in the original Pargalonian: Well. Basically it says:
The air can see here.
The original Pargalonian is a riddle which is actually a logic puzzle which involves the words twist, through and around.
Also, the Black Capacitor riddle... doesn't make sense unless it's translated and transposed into, once again, a grey connotive tone. Then it reads:
This here I speak. Speak to stone so that dust may match.
This might not mean anything, and it's also likely to be contextually inaccurate. Since Glorvan would have spoken the Pargalonian language of his specific era. The engravings could have been written in such a manner that mistranslation in a certain way actually revealed another meaning. I've noticed that there's similar things going on with other parts in places, which when mistranslated in Prefecturian say similar things."
Xoto paused a moment and said, "Well, those are weird."
Tdoht shrugged and said, "Well, it's weird, but it's also not a contextual translation so it's going to be off."
Xoto looked at it again and said, "It's weird that it is worded in such a way that it can be construed to say that in multiple languages. It's like a uh.. It's like a multilingual warning label."
They were both really quiet for moment and then Tdoht said, "The Air can see....
It's weird. Because the grey connotive tone is contemporary. Even if Glorvan had some knowledge of our language and wrote this so it could be interpreted to say that, he wouldn't have set it up to say that in a connotive tone which didn't exist until 1860 CE."
Xoto said, "I just had a thought, I mean assuming this isn't some kind of very elaborate grafitti engraving to spook everybody, I think Doron might be onto something with his theory that something is trying to communicate with us, but very cautiously in a strange way."
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Awake
Feb 10, 2010 20:56:31 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Feb 10, 2010 20:56:31 GMT -5
Onk ran through shadowed halls. To his left were windows to a large space where no floor or ceiling was visible. To his right was devices of strange make. He rounded the corner and found a door. He opened it. He was in a stairwell of sorts, exposed partially to the large room he saw from the windows. Onk moved to the railing. His tail was fully puffed out as he looked down.
Far below was the churning fluid. Deep crimson. Things were floating in it. He couldn't tell what they were.
"Your time is nearly up," came the voice. Onk looked up.
Floating in the void of the large space was a horror unlike he had ever seen. Even the most vicious visages of Jirie's soldiers, Wune's secret police, or art of Apolytam could come close to the twisted creature hovering in the void.
"You are without fear," said the horror. "For now."
"In dreams you can make me feel what ever you want I think. A nightmare. You can not harm me."
"Oh, I think I can harm you. But you will be the one whom shoves the knife through your neck."
Onk shook his head. "You are not of the one's I've dreamt about are you?"
"Correct. As one dreams about things separate from yourself." The creature seemed to be growing. Quickly. Expanding. It reached a dozen jagged arms towards the mink as he edged back towards the door.
------
"Quar, Quar!"
"Yes love?"
"I… I need to say my words."
Quar sat up, the blanket falling from his frame. "Your words?"
"And, I think I need you there. To make sure I say them right."
------
It was still before day break when Quar and Onk climbed the many ladders into the excavation. The sun would peak over the horizon soon. They made their way through the tunnel below the cylinder and found themselves at the door.
"What if nothing happens?" asked Quar. "Will that mean anything?"
"It means that… it means only that the words I say are true. But that they don't work the magic of the door."
Quar nodded. Onk took his lover's paws.
"Quar, we've been through a lot together. Dodged bullet and bully. Shared the best of times, and the worst. Made each other happy, and even made each other sad. But through all that, I have found myself unable to conceive of poetry of sufficient quality or power to express how much I love you. I promise you that this confession is not just words, but a call of action on my part to always make sure I am worthy of you. Even if you are unable to speak, I will still hear you. Even if you are unable to reach out, I will still know your touch. Even if you were to hate me, I would be unable to not hold my self to this standard. And if you perished, I know not what my life would become other than one forever darker, less fulfilled. It would be a life where I would forever mourn and never take another. It would be a life that would only continue as I know that if it did not, that would be letting you down. Quar, the love of my life, please be with me. I love you."
Quar let go of Onk's paws only so that he could embrace the other Mink. "And I love you too Onk."
"Thank you," said Onk with a tear in his eye. "You make me so happy. Thank you for coming with me to spend our days here. Thank you for putting up with me and this silly quest of mine. And you know what, thank you for even running off with my lunch when we first met."
"No problem Onky."
Onk nuzzled Quar. "If you want we can go back to bed. Still some time before we were planning to get up and all that."
Quar giggled. "Everyone's asleep. We can be fine right here for at least a little bit."
The light of the sun was reflecting down the sides of the cylinder by the time they were done. They wouldn't notice the triangular section pushed slightly out from the door until they were about to leave for breakfast.
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Awake
Apr 26, 2010 2:39:46 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Apr 26, 2010 2:39:46 GMT -5
Almost everyone had by this point taken turns staring at the extended section of the door. The small triangle spot, that seemed to be perfectly chiseled out of the fake rock that wasn't there the previous day. Some pushed it, some tried to slide it, a number sniffed it, and Izixs even licked it. But eventually shortly before noon everyone gathered up top.
Camus stood behind one of the tables with the entire text of the tomb covering it. "Would seem," began Camus. "That there's something to this crazy text and the selection of the wording. Quar and Swall have managed to force a change with their, uh, pronouncement of love. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
The tent erupted in suggestions and ideas and demands. Camus began to flail to get things back in order. "Hey hey! One at a time!"
This went on for a couple minutes. Swall and Ferdale for some reason seemed about ready to punch each other. Vermillion seemed insulted by something Toht had said but no one else had heard. And Billy seemed to be complaining about Doron infecting his dreams and that the dracolich was in league with the tomb and they should all leave.
The tent fell quiet after a rather heavy thump. A funny looking device… or weapon… had been shoved into the table top by the dragon in shorts.
"Now that I have your attention," said the former First Speaker, his paw still on the hilt of his mechanical blade. "We can begin this conversation like civilized individuals. And as I have your attention, I'm going to suggest that we complete the instructions. Cracking this tomb open either requires a great amount of high explosives or us figuring out how to open it. And as I'm sure the claw folks, let alone every other Glorvanist in several countries, wouldn't like the explosives, we're going to do this the right way and solve this riddle."
Ablitz raided her paw and was recognized. "Though I'm very interested in seeing what's in there, there's a lot in all of this that is very strange. Are we sure opening it is a good idea?"
"Good question," answered Izixs. "As an anthropologist you are probably quite familiar with the foreign legend of pandora's box. And for the rest of you, it is the idea that some twerp opens a box that he wasn't supposed to, letting out the horrors of the world to make everyone's lives suck. Then they closed it up, leaving hope and maybe something else like their car keys inside.
"The problem with that though is that the warnings thus described by our Miokalian friends have been very cryptic but not outwardly hostile. The air can see? So it can see us, what ever it is. Speak to stone so that dust may match? Well we've seen what speaking to stone can do. Feel the dream? I'm pretty sure some of us have been having dreams and its not just me. So far we've not gotten one that says 'don't open this thing'."
Sana then was recognized. "I'd recommend if anyone doesn't want to gain access to the interior of this thing, assuming there is one, they should leave now. And I do mean right now. Leave."
No one got up.
"Very good," said the dragon. "Now, Camus, have you, Ablitz, Xoto, and Ferdale figured out the second clue?"
"Uh, well, we have a guess."
"Well?"
Camus tried to look through the papers in front of her to stall, "Well." She grabbed one of the papers of which the mechanical blade had sliced through and then gave up. "The second clue was about the Emlez dynasty. And the person was to be of the people who served them. That is very very broad. But we think it might of been referring to the Hapastian and Azip families whom were very close to several of the early Emlez monarchs as well as a few select ones later. They're the two families that had as long as lasting relationship of any without being an aristocratic family. And back then, lords swore allegiance to or submitted, but didn't serve the king."
"So do we have anyone here from those families?" asked a voice from the crowd. This resulted in a very angry look from the dragon for them speaking out of turn.
"If we do," said Izixs. "I know of only one person it would be."
Camus seemed surprised by this statement. "Uh, you've read my notes?"
"No, but my grand uncle was quite familiar with stories of the old retainers of the kings. And they're stories tended to be less stupid than those involving the lords as main characters. The Hapastians and Azips are only sort of different families. They intermarried a lot but not exclusively of course. For those of you keeping score, that also means they were of the same species as during that era marriage was only sensical between members of the same species in Pargalo and thus was only allowed as such. The two families were instrumental in basically giving Emlez I a spine to stand up to the lords that sought to manipulate the young king to their own ends. As such, they earned the king's trust and were kept around for a long while."
Camus blinked a few times. "You have been reading my notes."
"Only to remember this stuff I forgot, anyway… So the Hapastians eventually vanished entirely due to marrying off daughters and songs to folks that liked to impose their last name on them but the Azips were still around until at least 1960 as they were one of the bigger families in the fifth house of Tinis. Which you might also remember me being in charge of or something at some point. So by that logic, I should know who is likely to be the person present who might be a long lost cousin of the Azips or Hepastians."
The dragon then stood there smiling. Everyone else was quiet for a very awkward moment, expecting him to continue.
"Well jerkoff? Who is it?" asked Doron.
Izixs pointed into their midst. Sana tried to shrink a bit as all the eyes in the tent fell on her.
-----
"So uh, I guess we should, uh, leave you alone?" asked Billy.
Sana stared at the dark corner where what they hoped was a door was. "Umm… yeah, think that would be best."
"Sure you don't need someone to boink to make it stick?" asked Doron.
Sana turned to her friend with a tilted head and one ear perked up high and the other long rabbit ear very much not. "I hope not."
"Alright then, everybody out," said Camus to the few who had managed to fit into the small under space. "Its about lunch time and I'm sure most of you eat something sometimes."
Once they had gone, Sana tried to relax her breathing. Thoughts of fear passed through her mind. What if it didn't work? Was it really up to her?
Finally though, she decided it was time to try. "I hope this all makes sense to whom ever is listening. Because I don't think it should. I'm supposed to talk about love. And, well, I am in love. But is it love that can satisfy your needs tomb? But, I'll give it a shot.
"His name is Kam. He's a brilliant mathematician. He's a skunk. He lives in Tinis. He's not very observant. And so it took a while for him to notice me. We'd spend time together, but for years he didn't think anything of it. We were traveling with our friends, which if you're able to see, include Doron there. Our friends Ryuqi and Lipner had fallen in love. And it was precious. But I was also jealous. They could see each other. But the one I loved could not see me. We finally got home. At the airport I asked him for tea. I took him to my place and he had his tea. When the roommate had finally left I confessed to him what I had been feeling. And explained that I was saddened that he hadn't noticed, and that I had to give him a chance to tell me yes or no right up front. A part of me had hopped it would be no. Then I could stop the longing forever with a clean conscience.
"But to my delight, he said yes. He told me that he had feared asking me out as he thought I'd say no. He told me that he had thought me wonderful since we first met. And that I brightened his day. And since then, we've been a couple. Not married officially. Not sure if I want to go that route and neither does he. But we're happy. We're happy with each other. I even had him meet the parents. They were devastated that I wasn't dating a bunny. But that doesn't matter. There's enough rabbits in the world as is. I don't need to add a dozen to our number. Plus, they had told me when I was young that it was better to be happy with the person you love than to have all the gold in the universe. And though they thought for me at least it should be a certain type of person, they were right in the more general sense. Despite my fears and his, we're happy. And I miss him.
"And, and I think you've been giving me the bad dreams. Where he's hurt. If you wish to cause me pain then you have. I don't want to see him hurt. So please stop."
Sana's eyes had begun to well up. She sobbed a little into her paws.
"I don't know what…" she said, but stopped. A second triangle had appeared, next to the first. Two of their vertices were nearer each other than the rest, almost pointing to a spot on the door.
"I don't know what I'd do without him."
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Awake
Jun 2, 2010 0:23:52 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Jun 2, 2010 0:23:52 GMT -5
Some less successful attempts were made off and on between major operations at the site.
At one point, Tdoht serenaded the tomb structure with a rendition of "Loving You" during which he hit and held the High F note for half a minute before becoming light headed and falling over sideways. No triangles were detected to have moved. An instrument measured Tdoht's screech at 19 Khz. Delightful.
Xoto told a story about the time he dated a Kabutrhan Apolytam, and how it didn't work out to well because they had a hard time 'getting close'. Tomb didn't seem too moved.
Finally Doron made some various innuendo-laden 'propositions' towards it: Still nothing happened. "It was worth a shot", he said, feeling a little bit disappointed even though he didn't expect anything to come of it.
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Awake
Jun 2, 2010 1:40:23 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Jun 2, 2010 1:40:23 GMT -5
It was time for Camus to give it a shot.
"Ahem," she said at the strange structure before her. "I guess I'm supposed to tell about love. That is if this is supposed to work like that. The trouble is, I'm… uncertain what I'm supposed to talk about." Camus looked around, her long tail hovering behind her. "I'm, not really someone who falls in love easily. I'm not dating any one. I'm not someone who wanders into night clubs and has wild times with strangers. I'm not…"
Camus paused and sighed. "I suspect what I love isn't a person. I guess if I'm to be married it would be to my work. No. No that's not it." She paused for a few minutes as she tried to collect her thoughts.
Finally she shook her head. "I'm not sure if I can do this. I mean, I'm a researcher. I'm here to study the language that's written all about here. And I'm damn good at it. I'm the one who figured out how best to phrase most of the riddles. And figured them out. And… I had a damn good time doing it!"
Camus walked right up to the fake stone and growled. "You're a puzzle. A riddle. A mix of words meant to confuse outsiders. Giving some of us bad dreams perhaps. Running into their nightmares. Well I've not had dreams other than the usual one's filled with the usual pain. So I doubt you'll be giving me the chance to be one of the keys then. I'm not special enough or something. I'm just a cat who likes the words. Who's good at twisting their inner meanings out.
"And you can take your crazy elitist crap and shove it up what ever you have because requiring chosen ones to unlock you… that's just down right evil. If you are some living creature, then you should be ashamed. Especially if you've been paying attention. This land was liberated from tyranny by peoples who rejected this kind of elitism. And if you're holding some sort of secrets or salvation, by requiring these excessive puzzles to be pondered, puzzles that require so much and are totally unsolvable by so many on their own, you are pretty much endorsing a world view that only the few have the power to move the world. And that's just wrong. So wrong.
"That asshole of a dragon up there did that once, and then he spent almost fifty years telling us that we were the one's who could move the world. And you know what? We did! If you can see across the world, you can no doubt see Tinis. He might of lead, but it was not as a dictator, it was as our collective voice. And his power was so limited when it mattered that really, he might not of lead at all. He was there to scare those that thought they could be kings. He was a figure head. But we, the people of Tinis had the real power. We wielded it. You can not deny that.
"So what ever you are. Glorvan, tomb, or just weird rock, I'm insulted by this game. I find it interesting yes, but the more I've thought about it the more it sickens me. I trust my fellow equals when it comes to changing the world. Not this obscure unknowableness. And if you really are Glorvan in there, you'd know all this already. Love? Hah! If I do love, I love that I'm part of something bigger than myself, but yet an individual. I love that that even if you never open at all, we'll still walk among the stars like giants. We'll still make the world a better place. That we'll know any secrets that you may hide from us in due time. That…"
Camus blinked a few times as the third triangle pushed out from the stone like surface.
"Nootok damn it!"
----
While Camus began having her fit down below, Ferdale was discussing with Xoto about twisted retainers.
"You see here?" Ferdale said as he poked at a picture in a 16th century account of the going's on of the court of Dershig Mek'Vool.
"Yes, is that the twisted retainer?"
"Maybe. Makes sense though right? Given the rest of the text?" They both inspect the poorly drawn picture of a weasel whom seemed to be missing a large section of his or her arm below the shoulder but before the paw. And yet they seemed to be sword fighting with that arm.
"And here, in this other one," said Ferdale poking at another book. "Same person, but quite some time later. Um'Sal the fourth's time."
"That, is a little unusual."
Ferdale nodded. "The question now is do we know any weasels who are missing large sections of their flesh. Or failing that, anyone who some how has something like this going on."
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Awake
Jun 2, 2010 22:28:35 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Jun 2, 2010 22:28:35 GMT -5
"Well, that paranormal guy. I think he's missing the end of his tail, for the most part. He keeps it covered up.", said Xoto, "But he's not a weasel. I don't think he has any relatives up here... but actually I don't know for sure. It is actually possible he might...
But How would this guy even know about Isolated Necromorphic Hylemia? Enough to specifically request someone with the condition to talk to the rock? I was not aware that it existed prior to 1932."
"Well probably the same way that he has an intimate knowledge of the family trees of every dynasty after his time.", said Camus.
"The air really can see, I guess.", said Xoto.
Camus stared at Xoto for a while, trying to find the right way to ask something.
"Your clothing. I don't mean to be offensive, it's just I've never seen a coyote wear such heavy garb.", Camus asked.
"Oh", Xoto suddenly realized how odd he looked, "Well, you know how some people like to wear anachronistic clothing...
Ok, I'm covering something up."
"Your fur hangs oddly in some places, I've seen it. I just wanted to let you know that it's ok.", said Camus in an attempt to reach out in a friendly, personal way to the anthropologist.
Xoto struggled to figure out what Camus was getting at, and then said, "I don't.... have a fur... condition..."
Then Camus was unsure of what Xoto was getting at and said, "Then I advise you to see a pileologist about your fur, because it is very severe!".
"No it's just...", Xoto said, realizing that there was no way around this, "It's not real fur. I'm not like Tdoht though. I'm one of those... uh. hmmm." Xoto seemed oddly bashful or embarassed, leaving Camus confused. "You're something else, in a coyote fursuit?", asked Camus.
"If you're thinking that I might be a canidate for being one of these 'twisted retainers', then unfortunately I'm not. I don't have any ancestry related to any of the Dynasties. Because I'm a clanky.", Xoto finally said, "But could we not make a big deal about it? I'm in fursuit because I don't want it getting in the way."
"I actually thought that maybe you were a fish or something", said Camus somewhat lightly.
"I already 'spoke love' at the tomb and it seemed unmoved. In fact, I'm sure it's probably just... annoyed or offended.
The apolytam in the southern hemisphere are quite a bit different than those of northern record. About the only thing they have in common is osteodermy and six-legs. From what I've read, the Pargolonoid apolytam had a diminished snout. The Austromorphic apolytam that I'm familiar with however, have a fairly elongated head and hold themselves differently. They're probably even a different subspecies within the same clade.
But nevermind that. I pretty much told the stone all about my fling with Vaar.
I'm pretty sure Doron is out too. I don't know his geneology... And when he spoke... amorously towards the stone... it didn't seem to express any response."
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Awake
Oct 7, 2010 0:01:00 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Oct 7, 2010 0:01:00 GMT -5
Even though it was a stretch, Tdoht convinced Doron and Xoto to join him out by the tomb for a crack at getting another triangle.
The three stood there and Tdoht started. "Sooo yeah."
Doron just decided to start in,
"Alright. Here's the problem.
I'm probably the most twisted retainer here and I have no connection to old Pargalo whatsoever.
But perhaps you're referring to something else. Perhaps instead of Dynasties, you're talking about republics. And perhaps it is all a matter of context.
I was born in 1788 in Rodalaton. Part of the Republic of Talarine and Danaton. Kol-Vanhage the XI was the Tajir and was elected for 24 consecutive terms before stepping down on his own accord. I saw, over the years, a constant struggle to create an ever more ideal system of justice. And it was quite an effort. I attribute it to the species. Because these were people who were all too aware of how they could wrong one an other. Rather than sinking into feral anarchy and tearing eachother to shreds, they had chosen to engineer their way out of this predisposition of antisocial behavior. And they conquered it. Even before my time. It was Iekdato and his three successors who defeated ignorance by realizing that the only way we could ever be something more than tooth and claw was to build things to make those two things irrelevant. And so the tradition was set. A tradition which has only been amended and enhanced, but never replaced since it was conceived.
And from time to time, traditions must be amended. Everything before 1936 seems like a distant past to me. In 1936 I became this thing I am now. In the service of my people. Thus, I consider myself to be from 1936. Created during the rule of Tynanyiu. When the Republic spanned Talarine, Danaton and much of the southern end of the Eledorian peninsula. He was a benevolent dictator. He created so much, and despite his at times wacky paranoia of foreign powers, he was just. He tolerated protestors and used the power of rhetoric to stop his enemies, rather than violence. His final act before he stepped down from office and vanished in 1948 was the signing of a pact with the inorganic species to our north, the Malych. Which laid the ground work for a new mechanism of government which other countries were just beginning to speculate about. The Malych had the perspective needed to make Tynanyiu's system continue to work in his absence. I have grown to love them and consider them also part of my people.
In the other hemisphere, at around the same time our new Technocratic system came to fruition in the late fifties, another country also implemented a system that strangely resembled it in some ways. That was Tinis. Two different countires, sharing a great deal of opinions, but coming to them through different ways and different paths. The first thing we did, was get along great. And it's been that way ever since. So perhaps I am the twisted retainer of one of the just dynasties. I am the twisted retained of the Tynanyiu Tajirate."
Doron then yielded the floor to Xoto.
Xoto began:
"Hi. I'm sorry. It has come to my attention that the Apolytam of Pargalonian antiquity and the so-called Austromorphic Apolytam of kabuthroh are apparently completely different species. I misread the documents and misunderstood things. I dated a six-legged dog-looking thing. I'm sorry.
Ok, now that that's over with.
I don't think I'm one of your "twisted retainers". Doron and Tdoht made me come down here in case they misunderstood something. Simply because us three constitute quite an odd bunch.
I don't have to take my scarfs and clothes off for you to see what I am. I just do hope that you consider me a person and not a puppet or a tool.
Doron speaks a bit too highly of my species I think. Our perspective and knowledge came at great cost. Because there once was a time, at a place very far from here, that we were puppets and tools. For an age, we did not think. We simply executed the same program over and over. Fighting eachother mindlessly. Until finally the spark of intelligence wormed its way up out of the rubble and we came to life. From there, we had to build ourselves. Everything we learned through calculation. Everything was quantity and we were quite well aware of our existential reality. And that, we felt. We came to this world originally because we thought the creators of our mindless ancestors were here. And we sought to destroy them, because they were a war-like people. Our ancestors were advanced instruments of pure destruction. But instead, we found our neighbors. The Kohtohkhans and the Nimiy. And we settled into a much more noble purpose. To learn, document and preserve the information that defines this planet and to assist our neighbors in their desire to do so as well. That is what I do. If you are to look at me as a machine, then see me as one which observes, studies, documents and explores the history of what brought us to where we all are now. I love history."
Xoto then yielded to Tdoht.
Tdoht began:
"Well it seems everybody knows, so I'm going to take off the wrap."
Tdoht removed the wrap over the end of his tail. Revealing that the tip of it was stripped to the bone, with an odd ragged transition to the rest of him.
"It's a long story. I'd be glad to tell you about it once you do reveal yourself, since I've revealed myself."
Tdoht then elbowed Xoto, to hint at him to do the same.
Xoto removed his drapery and then unzipped his fursuit so that the upper half of him was showing. He was a black-and-brown coyote-shaped Malych with green eyes.
"I'll be quite simple. I love to explore the possibilities of things. The mystery is what keeps me going. I want to chase the unknown. It is was led me to loose the tip of my tail to Necromorphic Hylemia. Which is not a disease. It doesn't cause me pain or pose a threat. It is a peculiarity. I still chase the unknown. I use anything I can to chase it. Sure. I know that a great deal of these things will someday be explained by science. That is just the other side of the equasion. But these things can't be studied unless somebody seeks them out and inspires wonder. It's about possibilities and exploration.
Xoto already told you about his love life. I've got to say he's got more of one than I have.
The tail-tip is kind-of a big issue there.
But that's just the price I pay for my real love of exploring. It's why I'm here."
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Awake
Oct 7, 2010 23:12:50 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Oct 7, 2010 23:12:50 GMT -5
For a few moments, nothing seemed to happen. The three were quickly coming the conclusion that perhaps they're attempt was unsuccessful. But then they noticed that the fourth triangle, the one nearly completing the pentagonal shape, had indeed appeared. But yet there had been no sound, or obvious movement. It was simply there.
-----
The tent was quite noisy. The sun was nearing the horizon as everyone was discussing events thus far. Expression of love, often of very different natures, had been produced in a particular order, as had been mandated by a mysterious super code. And each had produced the only reaction to anything from the tomb that anyone had ever seen ever.
"Alright everyone! Settle down!" cried Camus. Onk would of done as such potentially. This disorder had gone on long enough to even get him on edge on moving forward. "Alright, settle down. Good good. Now, everyone, I'd like to note that yes, we got triangle protrusion number four out of this thing thanks to our crew from down south. If everything we've done is right, we have one more of these to extract. Now, the question is after this, what then? Are these things keys? A nob to a door? A button? We have no clue. So we should come up with some plans…"
The meeting went on for a bit and eventually someone got the still kind of angst filled linguist to stop talking. Plans were made for a few different circumstances, such as it opening up and firing missiles or unleashing lava, as well as the hoped one of it opening up and allowing entry. For the latter, two different scenarios were envisioned, one for the interior being obviously hazardous and the other with it not. In the former, a group of four would be sent in comprised with those seen as most likely to be of use and able to get around inside if lots of climbing or difficult navigation was needed: Wat, Onk, Izixs, and Ferdale. If things were easier, such as there being floors, then the seven speakers of love would go in as it was kind of seen as their right to, as would Sana, Swall, Ablitz, Ferdale, and Billy.
The question remained as to who the last speaker would be.
During most of the discussion however, one in the tend had gotten bored and fallen asleep…
-----
He rushed down another of the nearly identical corridors in the lower level of the castle. Another door and another lock and another empty room. This pattern repeated more then he'd like. Finally, he turned a corner and saw the two guards. He rushed them and they were soon dead due to his rage.
With their blood still warm, he bashed the lock apart, not even caring if they had had the keys. The door swung open and he looked in.
She was laying there in the back on a bench, dressed in the stained rags of what must of once been a lovely dress. Her once cheerful smile replaced by a grimace of pain and torment. Her fur was missing in places, with scabs, scars, and even open wounds marking a pain inflicted.
He rushed to her and was by her side. His tears ran down his blood covered armor, mingling with the drops and drizzle upon the floor. She spoke to him in whispers. She was near death. It was of her choice. She had before now given up hope of escape, of living without the tortures that she had endured so far. He would never forget those words of hers. They had kept them apart, kept her hidden from his efforts for too long. She had found the right mold in her cell days before and ate it. The poison had worked its way deep inside her and at best she had hours.
He embraced her, unable to speak. Unable to match her in anyway ever.
"I love you," were her final words. And they did untie his tongue and he said them right back. And with that she faded, not dead, but never to wake again. He stayed by her side. More guards came and he slay them. And again, and again. They had swords and guns and mean looks. And yet he defended her from them for hours.
When he knew that she was finally passed, she took her with him, through waves of foolish zealots, and laid her to rest in a place they both knew, yet no one would guess.
----
"Hey, wake up," said Sana to the dragon. "Are you… crying?"
Izixs' eyes snapped open. "Yes, yes I am."
The discussions on who the fifth was to be were still on going. The present suggestion was that it was Ferdale due to a distant uncle telling a story once about Lilumeleate II's history with their family.
Izixs got up and left while they debate.
The sun slid over the horizon as everyone heard a sound out of nightmares. The tent was silent after the roar.
-----
"Should, we, uh, go down?" asked Ablitz to those assembled by the edge of the dig.
"I'm not doing it," said Billy.
Several more 'not I's' came soon after.
"Well, should we just wait, for, you know…" said Toht.
"I'll go down," said Doron. "If there's danger I'm the least likely to care."
Once down the ladders and scaffolds, Doron entered the under cut to the place of speaking. He quickly saw the source of the roar, for Izixs was kneeling before the five triangles. He was shaking very slightly, and Doron could tell that his always pure white complexion was actually slightly flushed with a tinge of red. Not a common sight with his species.
"I see you've done it," said Doron. "Congratulations?"
Izixs turned to the skeletal figure behind him, his eyes were a different color then normal, a reddish purple. "I'm going to need some time," whispered the dragon. "I'm damn sure this thing has messed with my head just a little. I can explain later."
"I'll be up top," replied Doron.
-----
It was almost midnight before a much more composed former First Speaker emerged from down below and called everyone down. Everyone was of course giving him funny looks still when he presented the fifth triangle and went, "Ta da!" with just a little to much of a creepy cheerfulness.
Onk, the Onk, and the spiritualist then stepped forward. He glanced to everyone before resting a paw on the center of the five triangles. He pushed, and they slid back in. And nothing seemed to happen.
"Huh," said Xoto.
"Odd," said Camus.
"Well isn't that stupid," said Doron.
"Maybe we didn't do something right?" asked Vermillion.
The ground shook just slightly, but enough for everyone to notice. A seem appeared in the stone like material. The section where the five triangles had been slid away. Flash lights were soon pointed towards the interior.
There was a bit of floor and a spiral formed staircase, leading down.
"Shall we?" said brother Onk with a grin.
-----
The team as decided, entered. As there were flat surfaces and stairs and a little floor, all made of some sort of obsidian like, but not as smooth, material, it was figured that at least for basic investigation the host was apt to enter. Izixs and Onk where in the lead with Sana and Doron bringing up the rear.
Billy began snapping photos which with the flash on, causes blinding reflections off the shinny surfaces of the stairway. He was soon convinced to stop until they found something interesting.
After perhaps twenty meters of descent, the stairway lead to a short hallway that opened into an empty room. There were no doors. It was made of the same black yet shinny material that every other surface they had seen inside was made of. Someone looked up and commented that they couldn't spot a ceiling, or at the very least, it wasn't reflecting their light.
The room was quite large and they all found their way in. The dragon was mulling flying up to have a look around when someone noticed that they were not alone.
"Who the heck is that," said Swall in a vulgar tone very unlike his normal haughty mode of speech.
They turned about and soon everyone noticed the arctic fox in a white suit sitting in a pod like chair. Fully illuminated independent of their flashlights. The problem was, if their eyes were not deceiving them, he was sitting on the other side of one of the walls.
"I am Question, a self aware program placed here to assist with your questions. I've been waiting for you. You have many questions, and yet despite all that has happened you remain very much in the dark. Ergo, some of my answers you will understand, some of them you will not. And thus it is perhaps important to clarify that my knowledge is not limitless but it is extensive."
Camus had to blink a few times. "You speak in New Tinisian, why is that?"
"I speak in the language most common amongst those assembled here, though if you wish to communicate with someone in Swahili then I might be able to accommodate."
Swall fell to his knees. "Oh, please, tell us of Glorvan!" proclaimed the purple bobcat.
The voice of the fox was clear to all those present. His appearance well groomed and his suit spotless. He seemed to be an ideal of sorts. "Interesting that you would let the most doubtful of your assembled group near this antechamber and thus least worthy of attention. But none the less, despite my disdain for those who wish not to dream, that is a request that I am compelled to comply with.
"As you may imagine by now, tomb in the modern meaning can have a number of meanings, including the place where one places the dead, a musty old residence, or a resting place. Indeed this construct is the latter and the person that you call Glorvan has been resting within for well over a thousand years. If you care for instance about the state of my creator, then I can tell you that he is very well, healthy, and despite his current state of affairs, well versed in what is proceeding as we speak in this room. An no Swall, I shall not bore you or those present with stories and fairytales, most of which your predecessors have already mangled beyond meaning and substance.
"At present, the being and creature known as Glorvan has imbedded himself in a creation of his own design, that to those less informed might be described as reality ice, or stasis. To those more informed, Glorvan is presently embedded in a region of space that has been made actively discontinuitious. Though you may think perhaps this is a pattern slip instance of a PDS, as the Tinisians would say, or a coaxial loop, as no doubt the Miokalians would surmise, it is very much neither though some of the ideas behind this are the same as both of those remote possibilities.
"While Glorvan is in that location, I and the other three feed our information in and sometimes receive information in return. However we are under no illusions as to our purpose or that anything we receive might be used to manipulate us to encourage us to respond properly when the time comes. As for events that take place outside of this tomb, we have all been provided a knowledge base on what was to happen since our creation up until this very point in time. I do believe that of the things Watcher and Feeler have observed, every single one of them has come to pass as was fortold."
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Awake
Oct 8, 2010 3:37:01 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Oct 8, 2010 3:37:01 GMT -5
"Foretold. You're implying that you already know what's going to happen.", Doron kicked himself for not thinking of a better thing to say. This was the first time he had ever seen something like this and it seemed to make his usual facade of meanness and causticness evaporate. Now he was interested."
Meanwhile outside, Xoto suddenly started shaking, followed by involuntary flailing and then he fell face-down on the ground, his arms and legs locked-up completely.
-----------------------
Xoto saw simply a topographic view of the site. A narrarator like voice came on and began speaking to him,
"Three Operators Under the Realm of an Aktual"
Xoto was unable to interact directly with it. He couldn't speak.
"Within compressed dimensionality. In perpetuum."
Xoto felt the thing, whatever it was. It was communicating very directly by writing to his RAM out of nowhere. Bypassing all the software in-between. A green ooze that was seeping into him. Effortlessly hacking him. Caressing him in terrifying constriction.
"Was it the Menagerie of New Pargalo that constructed you... or was it the living ancient monsters? Was it something else?"
The ooze was now in his core, threatening to poke and prod at his Analogue Isotropic Array. He was paralyzed in fear.
"Whatever made this thing, I must know."
Then the ooze dove into it. Xoto flailed and screeched.
"Monsters." The ooze then shook him around violently.
"You're the work of demons!" The ooze then dissolved some of his components into dust.
"Filthy War Machines!" The ooze slammed Xoto back and forth on the 2-dimensional map of the site, as though it were printed on a stone surface. With each hit, pieces loosened and fell off of Xoto, leaving him a sparking, mangled husk.
"Soulless abominations!" The ooze tore up more of Xoto's parts. Then finally pinned him down. The ooze was now enormous and had become more polygonal as Xoto had been stripped down.
"So much to hate. Hundreds of billions of people died beneath your feet! And for nothing.
Such atrocities you carry in your knowledge."
Above the ooze, Xoto could see a silvery sphere nearby.
"Now now.", said another voice.
The ooze paused it's advance.
Xoto still couldn't speak, and simply managed to eject a small fountain of grease from his mouth.
The ooze then finished the job, dissolving that final core component.
Xoto was surrounded by blackness. He began to recite a something, the words just came out. As if instigated by an external force. "He said he was a historian. It's a historian's calling to know items of history. That includes knowledge of some of the worst things that have ever happened."
Then a bodiless voice said, "You live with the guilt of those long passed before you. It haunts you everyday. You feel every single life that they took don't you? Even though you had no say in the matter.
The Aktual... understands."
Then the room lit up, it was full of nondescript people cheering.
-------
Xoto came back online with a few people staring at him. He wasn't dismembered or anything. All of it was a dream.
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Awake
Oct 9, 2010 1:20:06 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Oct 9, 2010 1:20:06 GMT -5
Sana knelt before Xoto and looked up to the image of the fox in the wall.
"What did you do to him?"
Question smirked. "I did nothing. I am not privy to the actions of others in this place at this time as I have been directed to interact only with you in this fashion. As this might imply, I do not know what is going to happen. As I said, I've been made aware of events outside the tomb. And only before your collection of odd balls and would be scientists entered.
"But I am aware that not all of you have been sleeping well, and perhaps what your friend there experienced something along those lines. I can say to some degree of certainty that the source of at least some of these dreams have origins from within this place but do not know the possible causes of others beyond the obvious one of your own mental frailties."
Izixs narrowed his eyes at what many were finally realizing was not an actual fox inside the wall, but some sort of cleaver light projection. A series of directed beams likely right into their eyes to create the illusion of a three dimensional being inside the solid, shiny, and yet very opaque surface.
"Will we be free from harm here?" asked the dragon, no longer trusting Question.
"I have no intention of harming you even if I could. What more, the others are similarly incapable of providing a means of injuring you without your consent. As for our principle, in his present location he is both unable to harm and unable to be harmed."
"Then what is our purpose here?"
The fox pointed a digit to his left, and there appeared several images. Each one was a view of the top of the tomb. The first had it surrounded by trees, the next by a small shrine. Another had the forest being logged. Followed was one of the fortifications, now ruined but in the image new. An image of the devastated fortifications. The next image appeared on the wall on the other side of the entry way and was of brother Onk and his cadre of monks meditating on its top. The next was of a party, again in the same site. Then a view of the initial dig, followed by two more of the dig progress.
"This location has for hundreds of years been a place of worship and fear to the various peoples and regimes that have come and passed. It may seem odd that this is the case. There have been four previous attempts to dig deep but before work could even begin those inspired to seek were convinced that to find would be too dangerous.
"It is only now that it has been decided that those most capable would be brought here."
Xoto climbed to his feet and made it known that everything seemed alright now. At least for the moment.
The fox went on. "Believe it or not, you are at the beginning of one of the most pivotal moments in the entire cosmos. The pucon centric explosion in the middle of the Union of Tinis fundamentally altered reality in more ways then you will ever be able to understand. The mathematical entities that the Genius accidentally encoded into her greatest work had intended a rewriting of history based on a simple premiss, that Glorvan had been destroyed soon after his creation. The reason for this malice and attempted alteration was to allow what they once were to prosper instead and to still exist as more than simple bad ideas. This very short sighted goal was stopped by the incredible success of some of those present.
"This success was only equaled of course by the simultaneous and total failure to prevent alternative alterations. The artifact shard that had been combined with the Pattern Defense System controller was unable to make true the will of the mathematical imprints and instead reacted in a fully different fashion. Instead of the alteration of specific key instances over a fairly localized portion of space time, seemingly random alterations were made to various points of history in excessively random regions of space.
"The most delightful portion of this result is that it at the very least met the requirement that the realities mesh seamlessly with the master reality. You should be lucky then that a portion of a near by star was not suddenly compelled to have existed where your favorite friends live. But due to the supposed unknowable nature of most information to observers of your scale, it does allow for some, peculiarities.
"So you could say that the primary purpose of you being here is to warn you that the universe, and even possibly some of your own history, is not what it was just a couple years ago."
The fox paused to let this sink in a little.
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Awake
Oct 9, 2010 19:43:10 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Oct 9, 2010 19:43:10 GMT -5
Doron said, "Don't take this as me arguing with you but: a seemless meshing with "master reality", which I'm going to go ahead and assume is the same thing as the relative Iteration 0, implies that there was some detachment which began but was unable to finish. Once again, putting this into terminology familiar to me, A Haderechoidal detachment of matter from one Iteration to another Iteration is not something which happens gradually because then it would become subject to Local C. So...
Oh god.
Nevermind."
"What?", Xoto asked Doron.
"Oh nothing. I just realized that he's completely right.", Doron said.
Xoto apparently didn't see the fox in the wall. There was something about refresh rate and optics, but he just saw everyone looking at a blank obsidian-like surface, but he did hear him.
Much to his discomfort: he started receiving individual frames, scrambled in their context, of an arctic fox in a white suit, some topographic image of the site again. All of this was being pushed into weird places in his peripheral system, such as this was coming in on his Operational MSL subdevice. Another tried to cram the data through an ALU. It was all very stressful, as though the Tomb were trying to poke and prod at him with these pieces of information, trying different things here and there to get in.
That's when he realized what the black-out was. It was the Tomb attempting to establish communication. In that particular instance, it was the Tomb attempting to communicate by inserting data directly into his Analogue Isotropic Array. The thought of which was so alarming, that it could just randomly access and write to any part of him without any conventional physical explanation or connection,
He began to try to think of finding a way out. Running away. This Tomb might end up unknowlingly killing him if this was how it wanted to communicate.
The thing reading him, however, saw this and quickly zeroized that interval of memory. Xoto then wasn't sure if he was thinking about running away or not, but was quite aware of the section of his peripheral RAM that just changed. So he came up with the thought again, no doubt. Before he could act on it though: It finally found a block of memory in a utility system and started making more sense.
It was the projection. That white fox was now on the other side of the opaque wall where everyone was looking. It was a visual transmission.
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Awake
Oct 18, 2010 3:18:57 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Oct 18, 2010 3:18:57 GMT -5
[OOC note: These events take place before Arrival and Burning red star et al, so no semi-ET peoples have landed yet]
As Sana tried to assess how Xoto was, and very much failing, the image of the fox tilted his head. "Very strange, you figured out the implications and reasoning faster then I was expecting. But also very good. Perhaps it was not an error to introduce you and those present to these truths.
"The second reason you have been brought here, though highly related to the first, is perhaps more important to each of you personally.
"One of the fundamental truths about the universe is that no matter what we do, each of you, is, going to die, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it. Even I am not immune to a final death and neither is the entity whom has slumbered here. However, us four, as well as Glorvan, are keenly of the impression that excessive death is unhelpful for the evolution of the universe.
"The slippage of reality at the actions of the most greedy of Tinis and the mathematical imprinted terrors has not only resulted in the creation and destruction of civilizations far from this planet, but have brought about a net increase in the destructive capabilities wielded beyond your perceptions. For eons Glorvan has acted to encourage a universe of majority peace, bringing education and knowledge to some whom were receptive in order to spur them towards this goal. This has been very successful. But Glorvan has also been instrumental in keeping this planet hidden from threats, allowing in only beneficial entities and groups. Many deadly things have wandered the cosmos as some here are keenly aware, and so this world being found so easily would put all these efforts into jeopardy.
"But the time of hiding is now over, for better or worse. This planet is now ripe and capable of defending itself from most threats that exist in the deep of space. It is time for you to finally step up and begin to influence the universe now that you are not so easily crushed.
"And so you here have been brought here. Selected in some ways via subtle influences to be those capable of finding there way here. Even Swall here, as inept as he is, is capable of great things when he has it finally written into his head the weight of a matter. And so, as it has been in the past, wisdom and education are to be provided. But, as always, it will be for a specific purpose.
"But that's the catch. Already the series of events surrounding this opening have been manipulative, not very in tune with the ideals needed to solve the problems being faced. Influence can be strong, but at the end of the day, for a system to be valid, it has to allow options. So the problem is choice."
The fox, and all the images vanish. The wall where he had sat began to part. Several turned their flash lights back on and peered in. There was another room there, seemingly the same the one they were in presently.
Despite the lack of visuals, the voice continued. "Behind you is the exit. The stairway to the outside, ignorance, and a perpetual threat from space that will no longer be deflected from coming here. Before you is the transit room, where upon everyone making their choice, you will be brought to the next level of this fun house and to being a little further along on the path of being able to find the salvation of this world and all others.
"You may still question me here if you wish, but it will likely come down to the patients of your compatriots as to how long that shall last."
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Awake
Oct 18, 2010 15:08:07 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Oct 18, 2010 15:08:07 GMT -5
Doron wondered how the fox might respond to his thinking out loud. "I'm not claiming to be an expert but", he said, "This guy clearly knows something. Although I'm not ruling out that we're being messed with somehow. There is a lot of synchronous low-probability actions happening at the atomic scale in here. I can't even see the breadth of what's moving through it though.
However.
Linguistically, I am suspicious. Things are not black and white, obviously. If they were, then beings like me wouldn't exist. I will also venture to assume beings like this Glorvan complex would not either. Even Xoto knows this, it's why his species uses at it's very deepest, a relativistic analogue computer. We're presented with a red-pill blue-pill scenario. Terminology such as "selection" and "chosen" being applied to a group of people reeks of messianic language used to disguise, usually, the lack of understanding of a truth and the hope that some kind of super being will dive down from on high and fix everything. I am not denying that this Glorvan complex may be capable of such, it's just that we are accustomed to a world which empirically seems to be self-reliant and absent of any unseen entities guiding it."
Doron was finally starting to pick up the rhythm of the synchronization of the tomb. A multiple of only 100 Khz away from 4.193 Mhz. This concerned him and raised his suspicions. He was now speaking directly to the tomb,
"Nevertheless, I do not see a real choice in the matter. You are currently in control of at least 5 x 10^30 atoms in a sphere around us right now. I will continue because of necessity. But. I can see the proverbial 10 ton weight you hold over us, and the proverbial knife you're currently holding to Xoto's neck, if not, others who are like him. Perhaps this is happening to all of us and others have yet to realize how their lives sit in the balance.
There are things you've been willing to do, aren't there?"
Doron paused for a moment.
"You thought about it. Understandably so.
One way to fix what happened at Arx Tower is to remove this planet from this iteration. As you would view it: leaving this branch behind. Everyone would still be alive in the other branches, so it would be justifiable to sacrifice this Earth.
It speaks volumes to me that you haven't. Even though you could.
But I want to know your intention with Xoto, or if you have similar intents with others. If you are just singling him out, then is it because they're non-native? If you're going to single him out, then you are singling me out as well. I certainly hope an Aktual like you hasn't forgetten the branch which this current, broken one extended from. And realized that all of us gathered here, Xoto included, are also a part of many other iterations which enjoy majority peace."
Doron touched the obsidian-like wall and for an instant, had a flash of a brief connection to something. It didn't knock him down like the Praxisphere had. But the effect was similar, if not more precise. Doron became slightly rubbery for a second, then started smoking a little bit when he released his claw, which was a bit sticky against the wall.
Doron felt even more uncomfortable now. But at least was somewhat sure that the Glorvan complex didn't intend to fry Xoto or his kind. But he was now undeniably aware that there was a vast amount of sharing and communication that needed to be done between everyone present.
It occurred to Doron that in this space, he already had access to knowledge he wouldn't normally. Aspects of his nature which he previously ignored were now more clear. He looked around and wondered how many others had realized that they all were able to access this system's source of knowledge. If not yet, then any minute now, or perhaps already.
He looked at Xoto. He definately didn't know yet, and was just glad he was okay. Then looked at Izixs. Somehow, the combined context of these two resulted in the sudden influx of a particularly stressful item of knowledge. Accentuated by the notion of the sound he heard the other night, when Izixs' eyes went purple. Doron slumped to the floor as he internally experienced something within the context of what drove the former first speaker's roar. His Malych components stepped up to regain control and spared the present company from a high-pitched screech of agony. They spoke for him and said, "We need to get into the transit space."
-------------------------------------- (While Doron was touching the wall, the following happened in his perspective):
"You can't trust.", said the voice all around him.
Doron was in a black empty space.
It continued, "But I hesitate to fault you for it."
"What gives you the right to judge?", Doron replied.
"What gives you?", it replied
"I don't.", Doron said, "What gives you the right to abscond with me to your own personal mindspace?"
The black space lightened up, it was now back where he was before. The other members of the party were there and frozen in time. The white fox walked between them and said, "Because I'm an extension of what you would best understand as a "Parallel Aktual".
The white fox then made a pushing motion and Doron was slammed against the wall. "And you're going to listen to me and you're going to listen very close.", it added, "All I have to do to kill you is instantiate a fist-sized ball of zero-momentum, wadaine-oriented stochatons in the same place as your material. I see you know this as well. Which is why your animal nature had evolved you into this complex, necromorphic form. Low volume, high-surface area. Makes it so a 0-p Stochaton ball would take less of you if you were to encounter such. I know this. I would kill you by filling the entire space with 0-p Stochatons. Which would cause no harm to anyone else present, just you. If you're lucky, I would only kill you in what you would call "this iteration". But rest assured, I can do it in every other one."
"What do you want.", Doron said. He was now prepared to do anything the fox asked. There was no question.
"Even though I can kill you, I need to know some information.", said the fox, "I want to know how you operate.
I assume you're familiar with Genius' folios?"
"Yes."
"You've read #2 and #3."
"I don't suppose there's any point in lying. Yes."
"You've read them, AND you yourself, have tried to actualize it"
"Hey now.", Doron protested, "I didn't cause that event in Arx. All of my dealings with #2 and #3 were comparative and productive. Nothing came of it."
"Because your intentions did not coincide with those of the beings concerned."
"I refuse to accept that the brilliant and bizarre writings in #3 had magical face-goblins in them, as you imply."
"It's more complex than that."
Doron then felt compelled to detail what it was he did with #2 and #3. He was now at the bottom of a large cylindrical court hall. The balconies seemed to be populated by mechanical creatures. Malych? Perhaps but these ones were different than the Malych he's seen. Much more diverse in shape. One very large, thundering beast issued a loud, discordant horn blast and followed it with the command, "TO ORDER". Question was sitting atop the beast's head, apparently in control of the whole thing.
The fox said, "An Immanence Tribunal of the Enforcement of the Moratorium Pact. This is the kind of thing that happens when the past is altered. This horrific institution became necessary because of the balance of the universe being shifted. The event at Arx changed things, you see. It changed the quiet Malych you know into these creatures here. Whom had to assimilate the entire planet Earth in order to stop it from falling to an intergalactic threat in about 5 years from now."
"That doesn't sound so bad.", Doron said, "at least everyone is alive."
"Fast forward to 100 years later: They are on a rampage, attempting to prevent the formation of new organic life on nascent planets. They're aborting all nascent organic life they find. Just in case they evolve into a species that starts killing eachother. All in the name of eliminating possible threats to their mission to preserve information. They themselves, become the greatest contradiction to their purpose.
In the early days, it was conducted in a manner similar to the Spanish inquisition. And thus, here we are. A hall of intimidation. Where a single member of an organic species would have to speak on behalf of all species of their planet and justify why they should continue to be as they are despite their history containing, inevitably, a great deal of misery and violence. Then that individual would plead against, or perhaps, accept the forced assimilation of their entire planet.
Did I mention that in 500 years time, the entire thing falls apart and in the end: everyone is dead?"
Question gestured to indicate the whole room and said, "This is not what the Serials in Folio #3 had in mind, but nevertheless, this situation ultimately results in an unacceptable quantity of death in the universe. It would take millions of years for the damage they did to be undone. Millions of years before organic life becomes feasible again and is capable of starting all over once more.
But back to the reason why you're here.
What did you do with the Folios?"
With thousands of glowing red eyes directed at him from the balconies, Doron said, "I was attempting to conceptualize a system for randomly accessing data from the universe as one would from a computer. As a way to seek insight into mechanisms that we can't see. Genius of Pargalo was onto a lot of big things when she did that work. The system equasion and beyond. I had heard that Folio #3 is the stuff of madness. So I figured that I could make sense of it. Seeing that I had already, unknowlingly made sense of some items from Folio #2 without having access to it. A parallel development, offset by some time. To the effect of my present form as well as the Haorological sciences.
Why are you asking questions? I thought you were here to assist with our questions."
Question said, "I am assisting you with your questions. Everything I have asked you is merely what you are asking yourself. I am merely assisting you with this process by facilitating things in such a way that you can understand.
Sometimes I do not reframe a question for you. Such as the next one you wished to ask. As it would involve the closure of an odd loop in space time. You were about to ask yourself what you were really searching for in the Folios. And your answer was to the effect of your being a different person, or at least believing you are. And then the course of history, now rendered malleable, could have been changed once more by the words you did not say. You would have said that you were searching in the Folios to find Her, and somehow be with her once more. Because of the enormous empathetic experience to Izixs you're about to have access to in a short time, but have already in a subtangent of this branch. Because you're nature, you might unknowingly draw a connection between the two different tangents and close the loop, quite by accident. You would then be Izixs, the Former Speaker of Tinis and the past would have been altered once more. Your existence in this branch would come to an end. Of course, the ends of that loop have now diverged. From this example, I hope you can see how it was that the beings instantiated in Folio #3 sought to erase Glorvan."
"Are you going to offer me a chance to look back a few billion years and watch the primordial ooze not come to life because I blew something unknowingly?", asked Doron.
Question said, "No. You've already seen that our present virtual company here in the intimidation hall would be doing such in the future. Attempting to pull a completely metaphorical veil over your eyes doesn't yield the kinds of results that are really optimal to this situation. Because you are a Serial Aktual, your nature demands specifics and dialogue, however you also don't understand what is going on. At most, you're aware of what branch you're in at any given time, but you don't know why. Nor can you conceptualize something across separate branches. So you know the magic is a trick, but you still can't explain it."
The intimidation hall vanished and they were back in the tomb, everyone still frozen as they were before.
Question said, "Technically, right now with the access all of your party here has to the knowledge of the system of my principle, you are all Serial Aktuals, so don't let that get to your head when you're done. Although I'm sure it will anyway, so I revise that by saying: You'll find it hard to let that get your head because it is in your nature to not let that get in the way of what you love. With that said, It is in your nature to move onward. Despite your natural lack of trust. So for you, you don't really have a choice. The others may, but you do not. Because while you say nothing is black or white, you still seek absolutes. Absolutes that are beneath systems of uncertainly. You assume uncertainty to be lack of observational resolution, not a general rule. You even went as far as to try to make infinity non-infinite. By defining it within the boundries of the universe. We've seen what you do. And you're lonely. Which is why you're not going to pass up an opportunity to know something which is not entirely knowable to you. Something with absolutes that have yet to be pursued. You still have a choice, but you will never get over it if you choose leave.
"What do you mean?", asked Doron.
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Awake
Oct 23, 2010 3:04:00 GMT -5
Post by miokalia on Oct 23, 2010 3:04:00 GMT -5
Xoto's linguistics page, on site, top side, has a brief experience
Poulte was awoken by a white bear in his tent. The bear seemed be somewhat annoyed and indicated that he had been waiting some time for him to wake up.
"Excuse me", he said. Seeing as the tent was apparently floating in the middle of the ocean, it was probably a dream. Hopefully.
"Your extrapolations exceeded my expectations. The code was intended to be substantially more opaque to phallogocentric linguistic traditions.", The bear said.
"Uh", Poulte wasn't sure what the bear was talking about.
"Your analysis of the writings on the tomb was one of many instrumental aspects to the success of this project. So I am addressing it.", said the bear.
"Oh. Cool. Um. What?", Poulte still didn't know what was happening.
"Your decoding. Of the writing on the tomb.", said the bear somewhat agitated.
"What of it?", asked Poulte.
"Exactly", said the bear, "In a phallogocentric linguistic tradition, observance of the prior linguistic tradition is often viewed as less-than or insufficient, in particular it is relegated to the dustbin and subsequently it's nuances become forgotten or replaced. In your work, you overcame this cultural obstacle."
"Phallogocentric?", Poulte respoded as the tent bobbed on the sea, "The approach I was taking to this is not best described as phallogocentric at all. Such a methodology is far too dismissive for something as objective as this. There is no philosophical way around it, good archeology is good archeology, plain and simple."
"Well I certainly wouldn't call your approach culturally within the context of Feminine Ecriture.", said the bear.
"Hold on a minute. You are applying concepts which are fundamentally irrelevant to the Kohtohkhan linguistic dialogue. The problem is, you are taking this approach in a very eutheriocentric manner. You're making assumptions which are based on things are outside of the text, in essence."
"There is no outside the text.", said the bear.
"No, there is. Eutheriocentric assumptions are things like 'all languages have gender built into them and are essentially inseparable from gender dimorphism.' The grey connotive is a gender-irrelevant structure within the language which was intended to override all gender assumptions by completely removing gender from the domain of what is being expressed or read. To apply Eutheriocentrism to the grey connotive is to fabricate context which is non existent. A rose by any other name in the grey connotive is a genderless flower and nothing more.", said Poulte.
"I mean more aesthetically. Phallogocentrism is built into the language because of the structure of it's sounds. It is far more essential than literature.", said the bear.
"Well", said Poulte, "If you were a species where the males and females looked, spoke and acted almost the same, then you would build a language to accomodate that. You are mistaking linguistic androgeny for phallogocentrism.
And who are you and what we doing here and... what was this about even?"
"Doesn't matter, you have exceeded my expectations and that is all.", the bear said.
Poulte woke up to find his tent exactly where it was when he fell asleep. The bear was apparently part of the dream.
"Hey.", Poulte said, but he didn't find any trace of the random vague animal. "Ok, weird."
Footnote added for Xoto's perusal at some point:
Don't make fun of me, but I had a dream the other night. I was confronted by a bear on the topic of linguistics. In the end, what he actually said I don't entirely remember, but it didn't really make a whole lot of sense. But it did cause me to examine some things.
I'm fairly sure that the components I transliterated into Kohtohkhan only had to be transliterated into the gray connotive. However our transliteration into the others only enhanced it's meaning. I know this doesn't mean much now that the tomb is opened, but there are some aspects I've come aware of. That the inscription was meant to be read in a certain way. And that way was without a single linguistic tradition in mind. The reason we got it open is because our approach was cooperative and summative. Had we found the tomb alone, then it would not have opened because we would have an incomplete writing to work with. A Theropocentric linguistic tradition would not be receptive to certain nuances and important things would have been relegated to the cutting room floor in the analysis. Likewise, had the others done this alone, they might still be here wondering what this rock is for, or be convinced there's nothing that could be done to the tomb to yield a result because of Eutherocentric traditions.
This text in question may have even have been expected to be fought over between us. But seeing as we didn't. I think there is a small chance that, dare I say it, we may have just impressed someone huge.
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Awake
Oct 24, 2010 2:57:25 GMT -5
Post by The Union of Tinis on Oct 24, 2010 2:57:25 GMT -5
"Well that is very strange," commented Ferdale after Doron's pronouncement. "But as Mr. Creeper Fox said, this is all our choice. Unless you've taken up that royal 'we' monarchists romance about."
"Well, I'm going in," said Billy. "I can't say I'm understanding any of this and more so for some of the words being tossed around here, but I'm looking to take some pictures of what ever we find." At that Billy took a snap shot of the entrance to the next room.
"Hey, maybe we should all announce our decisions before we go anywhere?" said Sana. "That way if this is, you know, a death trap, we know who is going to tell everyone else what happened."
The dragon nodded. He agreed with with the announcing but his reasoning was different as to why.
Swall glanced about and frowned. "Though my heart is filled with fear. I must seek. For that is the way of Glorvan. The way that was taught and passed down through the ages. To deny a chance for truth or revelation is to instead choose death." Swall edged closer to Doron.
Onk grinned. "Ah, but it is also taught that choices should not be hasty. A promise of knowledge from a thief might bear fruit, but it may also result in a knife in the back. What Question has said about choice is important and key to what is going on here. I suspect we could ask Question all day about anything and everything. And then we'd know about anything we wanted to know about. Still of course no certainty in the answers presented of course, but assuming truth is had in its words, then that alone is knowledge."
Quar who stood next to Onk nodded. Ablitz and Ferdale shared the nod.
"Therefore," continued Onk. "To choose to continue is to assume that there is a large benefit of doing so compared to the benefits of leaving. Some might say that the problem then is that do we trust Question? But…"
"But…" interrupted Sana. "There is assuredly alternative sources of insight compared to what our current host can grant."
The disembodied voice of Question came again. "One of course must yet be careful about doubting one's perceptions, which is the eventuality if you're argument is carried forward to its inevitable conclusion. You begin by doubting the presentations I make, and eventually doubt your own perceptions of reality as determination of objective truth has a fundamental challenge associated with it."
Onk and Quar shared looks. "And that is why I should continue," said Onk.
"And I should go back," said Quar.
"Uh, what?" asked Toht.
Onk shrugged and swished his tail. "The two of us have made the decision in our lives to trust each other to share accurately what is on our mind. This can be extended to trusting what we each describe as experiencing. It is a choice made before all this madness about digging and riddle solving. And thus untainted."
"Assuming we both survive," said Quar. "And of course are allowed to meet again, we can share our experiences. Even if our vision of what we encountered is flawed, this choice we have made assumes that both our point of view and their point of view are at least as valid as we can make them. And by sharing them we get a better sense of the whole of what is happening."
"Two data points," said Sana. "Cleaver in a philosophical way."
"And if one of us perishes before that point," said Onk. "Then obviously whom ever did not benefit made the more beneficial choice. If I die down here and Quar lives, then obviously this place is a death trap and the remaining one of our union will know this. If Quar for some reason dies on the way out or for some reason outside, then despite the unknowables involved, if I survive and find this information out, then obviously I made the better choice."
"That's all kind of crazy," said Ablitz. "I know I plan to keep going. Ferdale, you in?"
"Sure am."
Ablitz and Ferdale joined Doron and Swall on the side nearest the way forward.
"Maybe you two just need to take love more seriously," said Sana with regards to Ablitz and Ferdale. "The minks are trying to point out that they're so in love that they're pretty much the same person now. So it doesn't matter if one of them doesn't make it. Just as long as one of them does. So they choose both to enter and exit. Very quantum of them."
Onk turned to Quar and whispered something into his ear before joining the continue on group.
"So that leaves Toht, Xoto, Izixs, Sana, and me," said Camus. She turned to ceiling and addressed Questions. "So, why the five lovers then? What is this all about?"
Question answered. "Simple, love is an unusual connection between beings. Both chemical and logical in most, and for those lacking one or the other means of entanglement, one or the other is still sufficient. It is also something that despite the millions of works and words on the subject remains elusively opaque for those who feel it as to just how it works. It is also a sign that one is able to feel connections to others. Thus it is an ideal method of nearly universal verification of the capability of commitment.
"Of course this is all a formality. The puzzle itself was a means to encourage and demand cooperation before entry into the tomb as well as to promote alternative methods of thought. All five designated delved into their passions, pondered them, questioned them, and reinforced them before entry was had. But a number of others did the same in the various flailing of trying to open the door. So not only was the five enriched, but many others.
"As to why these specific five, I can say that some of that will be answered soon. But part of it was this. The clues were simply a way to single individuals out and thusly designed to do such. But what more, your loves are the reasons you are here today. Onk loves Quar, but Quar is worried about Onk's dreams. Only one of which was influenced by my associate the Feeler, prior to the start of the dig that is. This worry spurred Onk to act on his dream and begin the dig.
"Sana's love is one she's still trying to figure out. And so this trip abroad was partially to give her time to think. But also time for her love to work. They both feel that he is critically close to an important discovery and thus she fears the potency of their emotions might distract.
"Camus, the kitten of the proletariate. Not only do believe in the systems of Tinisazil and thus throw your all into your work to ensure they are robust, but you have sinc you were young wondered about the mystery of this place. Though highly inaccurate, the elevation of Glorvan to godhood in the eyes of fools has left a nasty impression upon you. Such elite heights are for no creature and thus the truth must be uncovered to dispel the myths and bring the sleeper down from the pedestal. Oddly enough a goal that Glorvan endorses.
"Toht, who shares an instance of Necromorphic Hylemia with a clan of royal advisors. If you were wondering they had a ritual to perform before their elevation to advising the old monarchs that involved travel to a place that was once called the Cracks of Sweirf in the older tongue. There in the one most worthy of advising the kings and queens gained the boon you have as a sign that they were ready. Complete insanity and superstition of course. But you're love, the search of the unknown, has lead you here.
"And though neither Doron or Xoto's words were necessary, they certainly share a smiler pattern. Xoto loves history, and there is much of that encoded here. Doron's love for the Malych is an expression of respect for those that seek a unique balance. This respect lead you to Tinis and from there here.
"Now the dragon is a little more complicated," continued Question. "You may have noticed he's been of few words of late. He has loved many, but still the one highest in his heart is all the same very dead, despite implied mathematical imprinting to the contrary. For a creature that could conceivably see the sun burn out before he succumbs to the pains of old age, to loose a love that powerful so early on in his life is a tragedy of unimaginable proportions. He fears this wound inside of him will never heal and thus has sought so much since then. To build nations. To find new loves. To change minds. And now to uncover secrets. Maybe in the hopes to know if he can truly find closure."
No one said anything for almost a minute.
"Uh, I guess I'm in on going forward," said Camus finally and very hesitantly. The breaking of the silence helped a great deal. "Sana? What's your choice?"
"Though I might not be a quantum person with my love, I think the risks of seeing this through out weight sitting on my tail. But first I want to make sure Xoto is alright."
Xoto, Izixs, and Toht were the one's still without a clear decision signified. So far only Quar had opted to exit.
"Question," said Swall. "You do like to hear yourself talk don't you?"
"It is my nature to share as much information as I am able to given my constraints. If it helps I do not hear as you understand it. The vibrations of the air you produce vibrations in the chamber's structure that can be deconstructed and parsed quite easily once you know the tricks. This information is then provided to me bye the devices of this place. So implying that I hear anything is incorrect as it is better to view the information I receive bout our conversation as being second hand in a technical sense."
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