Protect the Fauna.
[3] The fauna seems perfectly fine without your help, really. The predators eat large amounts of herbivores, herbivores trim the New Tree, that kind of thing. You do make certain predatory relationships come full-circle, though, with one predator always eating one other predator in addition to what they already subsist on.
good....now to find a normal tree as wellfind a normal non intlegent tree, also try to find the others on the list because I KNOW there somewhere on one of the planets
[1] Normal things don't tend to survive on you for very long. That includes trees. There's no water, and the weather's quite hot and unpleasantly sulfuric. And this, mind you, is a statistically confirmed conclusion - 998 out of 1000 lifeforms you have brought to this planet show a survival time of 5-10 minutes. Another 500 were voidlife, but they were already dead, so you don't think they're relevant.
hmm, no easy escape, no easy communication, essentially integrated, hmm? (I know, I started and ended that sentence with hmm. It's called an inclusio, for the literarily minded.)
Use whatever divine senses I have to determine which beings of power are interacting with Tree. Attempt to influence Tree to adapt in harmony with myself. If Tree is accomodating, I have several projects for us to embark upon. The test case will be to adapt photosynthesis and some hairlike structures for sensory input, as well as to adapt some root structures for like purposes for sensing vibrations, soil health, and various other information of interest.
[6] The Tree does not seem to have any interest in much harmony with you, considering you're mostly a sap filter for its trunk. It does find your ideas intriguing, however, and proceeds to work on them without any further input of yours. Not that you can feel any of it, of course.
[6] You're also sure there have to be at least five demigods within reasonable reach of the tree, given a quick extrapolation of the known immediate demigod population density of two per one tree-span. You've allowed for some error in your calculations, of course - the maximum reasonably likely value could be as high as 20!
Assholes betraying me.
Steal one of their bodies.
You're quite dead, so no dice, unfortunately. Souls are still not implemented, and even more unfortunately never will be, given that the gods are dead. You included.
[6] Well, not technically implemented, anyway, as there's a copy of you now hanging out in the vacuum in Anathema's Hell. Oddly, this copy appears to be standing on some form of strange corpse-ship. As in, made out of quite a lot of corpses taken from a host of beings. It appears to be traveling someplace. The outside, though, where you seem to be located presently, is still in vacuum.
[2] You attempt to take a step and start slowly spinning away from the ship. Better think fast, you guess.
Now, firstly go into reaserch on how to create a reproduction system for the faithful dice of poke
[4] Oh, that's easy. Somebody just needs to roll a particular die with the intent to reproduce it. Beyond that, not much you can do on a race-wide scale. You're not a god, after all, and can't alter anything to suit your whims at any time.
Clearly what the people need is distraction. Order the construction of the Arena of Zil, a pit where all may fight in games of life and death for glory and riches, and where all who openly oppose me must fight.
Also... was the thought core affected in any way by the lessening of the divine pool?
[5] The arena, surprisingly, is a reasonable success. You can't really build a structure, though, since Tukta keeps tearing it down, but this is okay, so you start up the Tyranny of Zil's Poor People Fight Club, where the poor (who are agitators and objectively terrible, and also actually possible to round up, unlike the richer populace in their heavily guarded compounds that have way too many force multipliers on their side while fighting defensively for you to be able to enact any policies on them) fight increasingly bloody and vicious artifact-fueled battles for the enjoyment of your mercenaries (as richer folks tend not to leave their fortified compounds these days) and potential gains. Your impromptu murderous events soon gather a small cadre of local middle-class lackeys who see profit in getting to take poor people's stuff when they die, even if nobody looks them in the eye anymore as a result, and the rest of the middle class grudgingly watches the events for fear of getting minced in them if they don't.
[3] There is a somewhat troubling matter, though. An avatar of destruction, who you suspect to be Tuk, seems to have variably de-lipped, disemboweled and crushed most of your mercenaries, almost all of your fighting poor people, quite a few unrelated houses and their occupants, many of the spectators of your bloody events and also more than a few Shapers and their pets. It's really quite a mess.
Get some weaponry and armor from Tukta and lead a revolution in the Maze City with the help of the planet, my remaining faithful mercenaries, and the disenfranchised citizens. Or just cut off the Tyrant's head and the lips of the traitor mercenaries. Whichever works, really.
[2] Tukta provides you with a full suit of granite armor, which is as beautiful as it is completely useless. You guess you can deal with your hands, really. The planet's on your side, and you've left their shape delightfully unspecific. You head into the City of the Maze, eager to restore order to the place.
[6] What happens next is a little bit confusing. The red mist falls pleasingly quickly. You focus on your hands. They are slicing, smashing, breaking, ripping, cutting. Tukta acts the part of a serving maid, playing quite a few victims into your hands as soon as it starts to vaguely seem like they're opposing you. There's a lot of internal fluids you go through, at least five baths' worth. A lot of things and people are broken. And now here you are, in the middle of that same single hallway that the City of the Maze now has connecting everything to everything, and you're not at all sure how much progress you've made on your quest. A lot of lips. Some of them not from the right creatures. A couple of heads, too, but none of them look quite right, though they're all from similar-looking demigods or fleshy beasts you must have thought were ugly enough to be your guy. You guess it's good to be sure about these things. Anyway, you suppose you've definitely overthrown the lower class of the City of the Maze. And also the middle class. And a majority of the army. That just leaves the upper class! It's like a reverse revolution here!
what do my symbiosis creatures look like
And do they follow my orders exactly or they individual. I really don't understand them
Secondly my creatures will build space faring vehicles
Like fungi, in a word. Some are microscopic, some are macroscopic, and their shapes and metabolisms are incredibly varied. They cannot move, only grow. And they respond to chemical stimuli in order to adapt - few, as a consequence, have any measure of intelligence, as they are perfectly capable of adapting simply by responding to stimuli directly and without thought. You must, however, maintain contact with them to order them around in any capacity.
[6] At any rate, you have them construct a proof-of-concept vessel, a rather large structure with you as the centerpiece, being the only one capable of actually piloting such a thing. Symbiotically formed from hundreds of thousands of separate organisms, each a separate part of the ship, though all are under your control, the ship soon stands ready, a solid white, moldy, spherical thing propelled by nuclear fusion, which you're rather proud of achieving with the engine-fungus you've got in there.
Change /all/ of the crystalline assimilator to become a hive-mindic system, once this is finished, set the final result up that, if it is glorious enough, then i will assimilate one of my inner phylactery's, too begin the mind.
[2] You can't change an entire race, unfortunately, at least not in such a radical way as to develop sentience. The crystal is currently not possessing a mind, and it'd be a serious amount of work to make it otherwise. Also, aren't all but one of your phylacteries fake and incredibly trapped?
Shield the tower from yourmaster's influence
[1] You kind of killed Seeches, so you don't see the point. Besides, you wouldn't be able to have cool guests like that void-thing if you actually set up some barrier to people entering and doing as they please. You bring this up with a committee, and they confirm your impression that no security systems are required - better to just kill washed-up gods on sight if it ever becomes a problem.
Leave the voidlife disc/preserve.
[6] You soar free of the voidlife preserve, free as no giant space quail before you ever has been, locked in their gilded spatial cage! As you leave the realm of wishes coming true, however, reality does indeed ensue, and you start to quickly realize why giant space quails haven't exactly had much luck proliferating outside the preserve. Mostly because they're not particularly good at anything to do with space, and indeed seem to lack as much as a method of propulsion. You do manage a supply of necessary breathable gases with your god-magic, though. Maybe the other things are reasonably possible to make up for as well?
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Topic: Inexorable: a Minimalist Demigod Game (Read 80840 times)