Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 259871 times)

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #165 on:** December 14, 2015, 02:39:10 am »

"Meaningless? Are you saying that the largest country in world is meaningless? Russians would have few words to say about that. Well, I'm not a russian so I don't really care."

"And from my point of view you all are more or less delusional idiots from mental hospital with some anger issues. And damn primitive, using spears and shit. I bet you don't use electricity either."

Tone of discussion is slowly moving from conciliatory to contempt.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #166 on:** December 14, 2015, 09:10:01 am »

"Uh, I may have, but I'm not completely sure. How many teachers do you have? Just out of curiosity."

Dermonster · « **Reply #167 on:** December 14, 2015, 05:36:37 pm »

"... What's a pontiff?"

NAV · « **Reply #168 on:** December 14, 2015, 09:48:38 pm »

"Um, who exactly are the minders? I keep hearing about them. Were they the ones who brought us here?"

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #169 on:** December 15, 2015, 09:56:40 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on December 14, 2015, 01:57:33 am

"Do you know what paint is? Is paint a thing in this place? If so, I'll need directions to the nearest place I can get some purple paint or dye, please."

Jack deftly ignores the possible gay sex proposition. He was straight after all, and getting plenty of it with -
Oh fuck my girlfriend's been left behind hasn't she. Shit.
She's gonna murder me when/if I get back.

Well, this place ain't too bad to live in at least; hopefully the time passage here compared to back home is dialated or something so she'll be too old to throttle me when I get back.

Paint is not one of the areas of the man's expertise, and neither is dye. He cannot personally vouch for their existence as a consequence, for which you have no choice but to forgive him. Certainly he has seen evidence that some things are dyed or painted - the minder hall, for one, or the clothes of the majordomo. But the weight of evidence is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? And now that you ask, he finds the twin ideas of paint and dye mostly unconvincing, truth be told. Perhaps the fabrics were colored that way to begin with - there is certainly a wealth of flora that can produce colors such as, to use your example, purple.

From this you can surmise that perhaps it is not a rarity of a certain dye that creates the general dearth and exclusivity of purple fabrics, but rather a certain type of flax or some other fibrous crop that is naturally purple. Rarity of fabrics requires only one element to suspend disbelief in, while rarity of dyes requires two. And he doesn't know about you, but he's personally never seen a single smidgen of dye in his entire life. Perhaps, then, it is irrelevant to him whether dyes or paints truly exist or not, wouldn't you say?

It is an interesting question, in short. Do dyes exist? It is assumed they do. But we assume many things, such as that the stars are the spawn of the Sun and Moon, which is probably not actually true, or 'not literally true' as the priest backpedals on the question when put to the test. The truth is, we just don't know.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 14, 2015, 02:39:10 am

"Meaningless? Are you saying that the largest country in world is meaningless? Russians would have few words to say about that. Well, I'm not a russian so I don't really care."

"And from my point of view you all are more or less delusional idiots from mental hospital with some anger issues. And damn primitive, using spears and shit. I bet you don't use electricity either."

Tone of discussion is slowly moving from conciliatory to contempt.

Indeed, the crazy guy agrees. You, too, appear to be completely meaningless. It is fascinating, he must admit. He did not previously recognize that minders could create such tricks.

The real question here is, naturally, whether you have a purpose. It is one that you are likely unaware of, given the overwhelming lack of anything meaningful spewing from your mouth-hole. What could your function be, he wonders.

And would you mind turning around and staying still for a moment so he could check, he asks before regurgitating that odd lockpick again in a disgustingly straightforward way, with the abdomen convulsing and an unnatural-looking motion going up his throat. You really did like it better when he did that out of sight.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on December 14, 2015, 09:10:01 am

"Uh, I may have, but I'm not completely sure. How many teachers do you have? Just out of curiosity."

Three. The elder, the hidden and the blessed.

The elder teaches, and guides the other two when he is able. Old and gray, ancient beyond measure. A dusty shell held in one piece by the power of his mind. You have never seen his face.

The hidden gazes into the dark well and contemplates for days on end. The well sustains him and steals from him in equal measure, and his inspiration produces inscriptions of power. You have seen his door.

The blessed possesses wholeness of the mind, and has mastered the interplay of mind and matter more than all of his forebears. He lives at the top of the tower, where no others can reach before they attain his skill. You have seen him broken before you, the limits of his ability tested... and perhaps failed.

This and more she peels from you with great interest. They are dead, she and you now both know. Nobody remains to guide, to exemplify or to contemplate. That means, she grins... that the tower is now hers, in a sense.

Quote from: Dermonster on December 14, 2015, 05:36:37 pm

"... What's a pontiff?"

The guards heartily congratulate you on fitting your role spectacularly as they start to disperse now that the main event is over. The priest sighs and tells you that the pontiff is the high priest, child. The highest priest, the Voice. The queen was probably taught that word by the minders. They have all too many words for things that are, you will find.

The point is, he needs that mirror. The queen does not. So can you, as the, ugh, Minister of Moronic Affairs... please convince these fools of the gravity of his need? This is critical to the prophecy, he says. One of the guards still within earshot kicks him spitefully, unappreciative of such remarks, mocking his manner as she leaves. The priest shakes his fist while quietly muttering.

Quote from: NAV on December 14, 2015, 09:48:38 pm

"Um, who exactly are the minders? I keep hearing about them. Were they the ones who brought us here?"

The minders explore interactions between minds, and eventually the interaction of mind and matter. It is the art of making the difficult simple, and the impossible merely difficult.

And if what Ms. Minett... and you, now that she looks... if what you both know is indeed accurate, your appearance here is completely impossible. Thus if one keeps the preceding statements in mind, it would stand to reason that yes, you were indeed brought here by minders.

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AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #170 on:** December 15, 2015, 01:02:57 pm »

"Now you are just insulting me. I'm not meaningless, well, not entirely, and most certainly I'm not a trick. Purpose of every living being is to produce offspring fit for enviroment, or die trying. Excuse me if I don't feel comfortable turning my back to you anymore.
HEY TURNKEY! My cellmate seems dangerous!"

Prepare to protect myself from mindless violence. Or, if turnkey comes first, ask for cell without freaks like this one.

Was this your inspiration for these stoatmen:

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Xantalos · « **Reply #171 on:** December 15, 2015, 01:27:01 pm »

"Hmm. Do you know if there's any tailors or anything like that around these parts?"

Dermonster · « **Reply #172 on:** December 15, 2015, 04:09:13 pm »

"Right. You, random guard! Fetch the mirror. My reasons are thus: This entire affair is completely idiotic, and I need something shiny to show people how retarded they are being. Only that mirror will do. So... go."

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #173 on:** December 15, 2015, 09:25:56 pm »

I shake my head. "Talking to you is really... something. So the minders were teaching you? Do you think you could help us with this stoat situation?"

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #174 on:** December 17, 2015, 08:30:45 am »

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 15, 2015, 01:02:57 pm

"Now you are just insulting me. I'm not meaningless, well, not entirely, and most certainly I'm not a trick. Purpose of every living being is to produce offspring fit for enviroment, or die trying. Excuse me if I don't feel comfortable turning my back to you anymore.
HEY TURNKEY! My cellmate seems dangerous!"

Prepare to protect myself from mindless violence. Or, if turnkey comes first, ask for cell without freaks like this one.

Your cellmate dives at you as soon as you begin to yell - you punch him right in his vicious face, sending him reeling back. This apparently sends an adequate message, for he retreats to the back of the cell. You think you hear him swallow the lockpick again. That's probably hard on the throat, it is.

The turnkey, much to your delight, is very prompt in his arrival. He looks through the peephole, and stares for a good moment at the crazy guy as you explain your issue and ask for another cell, as you surely cannot be expected to share one with some violent freak. He considers your request for a few moments, then blinks affirmatively and opens the door, escorting you out before locking it again.

What you are led to, unfortunately, is the end of the darkened prison hallway, where the only other cell awaits. The turnkey takes the largest key in his possession and unlocks its whimpering door, carefully opening it just enough for you to squeeze inside. You can't see a single damn thing inside the cell except (given that it does appear to be meant for solitary confinement) that it is probably much smaller than your previous one. Also, as you regard the darkness a moment, the whimpering stops suddenly. The turnkey starts to nudge you inside gently.

Quote from: Xantalos on December 15, 2015, 01:27:01 pm

"Hmm. Do you know if there's any tailors or anything like that around these parts?"

Oh, this is a much easier question, the man with no shirt says. You should have started with that one. The tailor is someone he has seen before. Interestingly, however, it is exactly because of this that he can vouch for the tailor's nonexistence.

You decide to take the bait and ask why that is, and the man with no shirt explains that the tailor lived in town. The one that is now in the hands of the stoats. So it is more likely than not that the tailor has been skinned, impaled, beheaded, burned at the stake, hanged or some combination of the previous. The stoats, he mentions, are somewhat cruel to the relatively affluent. More so than they tend to be to regular men, even, which must be something to behold.

Quote from: Dermonster on December 15, 2015, 04:09:13 pm

"Right. You, random guard! Fetch the mirror. My reasons are thus: This entire affair is completely idiotic, and I need something shiny to show people how retarded they are being. Only that mirror will do. So... go."

The random guard looks somewhat confused at your request, and asks you to repeat it, so you do so. She then nods and smiles, confirming that she heard correctly. You tell her to get to it, and she does not. Instead she has a counterargument.

You are the Minister of Moronic Affairs, yes? Now, she doesn't exactly have a copy of the constitution on hand or anything, but she's pretty sure that means you can't use logic. Logic is strictly a non-moronic affair, you see. So she cannot in good conscience assist you on such a basis, as it is a rather blatant overstepping of your boundaries. While that is only to be expected from a proper royal minister, of course (and she has to commend the initiative of someone attempting to seize more power within five minutes of their appointment), it does go against her creed as a royal guard.

As such, no mirror for you. Or the priest.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on December 15, 2015, 09:25:56 pm

I shake my head. "Talking to you is really... something. So the minders were teaching you? Do you think you could help us with this stoat situation?"

They were, and she certainly would. As a matter of fact, solving the stoat situation is now her solemn duty as the ranking minder of this tower. She is not terribly glad to inherit the job that killed all three of her superiors, of course, but being a minder is not meant to be easy, and hardly ever is in reality, either.

Though whether she can help you is more a question of what exactly you need help with.

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Dermonster · « **Reply #175 on:** December 17, 2015, 08:41:48 am »

"Yes but did you expect that MY USE OF LOGIC WAS INTENTIONAL? I KNEW THAT LOGIC IS COUNTERMANDED BY IDIOCY SO I AM MAKING FULL USE OF IT! BUT, USING LOGIC AS A STUPID ARGUMENT IS, wait for it, STUPID! It wraps around to dumbassery for all eternity! Also FIGHTING OVER A MIRROR IS STUPID TOO, THUS I HAVE AUTHORITY OVER ALL THE SUBJECTS INVOLVED. Think my argument doesn't work? Then it's a stupid argument and I control it and I say IT DOES WORK. AD INFINITUM. Mirror now kthnksbai."

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #176 on:** December 17, 2015, 09:58:06 am »

"This cell... is empty of violent beings, yes? It has definite lack of anything that would like to touch me? Please let it be so... Also, would light be too much to ask?"

Walk in somewhat reluctantly.
If no light is provided, then pretend it is night and sleep until real night comes.
If light is provided and cell is empty of attention seekers, study the prison stone closer. As a miner and a hobbyist geologist I have good understanding of minerals.
Otherwise study my cellmates without getting close.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #177 on:** December 17, 2015, 10:58:06 am »

"Well I'm not quite sure what we need help with either. Maybe what we need right now is some explanation. You mentioned we were brought here with a ritual. Was this what the ritual was supposed to do? It doesn't seem like it went entirely as planned."

Xantalos · « **Reply #178 on:** December 18, 2015, 03:14:11 am »

"Ah. Well, shit. There goes that plan.
...
Are there any religious places nearby? Preferably with statues or somesuch?"

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #179 on:** December 18, 2015, 02:20:24 pm »

Quote from: Dermonster on December 17, 2015, 08:41:48 am

"Yes but did you expect that MY USE OF LOGIC WAS INTENTIONAL? I KNEW THAT LOGIC IS COUNTERMANDED BY IDIOCY SO I AM MAKING FULL USE OF IT! BUT, USING LOGIC AS A STUPID ARGUMENT IS, wait for it, STUPID! It wraps around to dumbassery for all eternity! Also FIGHTING OVER A MIRROR IS STUPID TOO, THUS I HAVE AUTHORITY OVER ALL THE SUBJECTS INVOLVED. Think my argument doesn't work? Then it's a stupid argument and I control it and I say IT DOES WORK. AD INFINITUM. Mirror now kthnksbai."

Hm, she says. This argument seems to have made the guard a little dumber for having heard it, or so she claims at least. So it is fairly clear that you are starting to grow into your position.

However, you still appear to be under the impression that you can order her around. While hilarious to observe, this is nevertheless a misconception she feels compelled to correct. Not in any violent sense, of course. Perhaps you should seek out somebody more within your sphere of influence, so to speak. Try the barracks, perhaps. Maybe someone in there is drunk enough to help you. God knows this guard would love to thrash somebody fiercely for drunkenly trying to break into the queen's quarters. Been too long, she says. Way too long.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on December 17, 2015, 09:58:06 am

"This cell... is empty of violent beings, yes? It has definite lack of anything that would like to touch me? Please let it be so... Also, would light be too much to ask?"

Walk in somewhat reluctantly.
If no light is provided, then pretend it is night and sleep until real night comes.
If light is provided and cell is empty of attention seekers, study the prison stone closer. As a miner and a hobbyist geologist I have good understanding of minerals.
Otherwise study my cellmates without getting close.

The turnkey blinks yes, and when no further answer is forthcoming you suppose that must have been for all your questions. At his insistence you squeeze into the dark cell. The door closes and locks, and that's about when you stop being able to see anything at all.

First thing you notice is the smell. It is subtle, but nevertheless awful. Then you feel the walls - the entire cell is about a full armspan, and you wonder how someone even gets enough air to survive in here.

One thing you do not notice, however, is your cellmate. Wherever they may be, they seem unusually successful at eluding you despite the way you check every corner that you can find (there are four of them, as expected, each emptier than the last). Silent, too. In fact, had you not heard somebody in here, you wouldn't really think there was someone in here at all.

But they are here, whoever they are. You feel their breath in the air, their warmth. Someone shares this cell with you. And they are delightfully unobtrusive, considering the space available.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on December 17, 2015, 10:58:06 am

"Well I'm not quite sure what we need help with either. Maybe what we need right now is some explanation. You mentioned we were brought here with a ritual. Was this what the ritual was supposed to do? It doesn't seem like it went entirely as planned."

They did not intend to die, the girl assumes. That much you are probably correct to infer. But it is difficult to say - whatever they did, it was something heretofore unheard of. The mysteries of the hidden, the mastery of the blessed and the lore of the elder, all of these seem to have come together in some way that probably not even they properly understood. It seems to have been some sort of transformation. A high-degree manipulation of matter through mind the likes of which she has not seen and none of her teachers had ever spoken of. A true, fundamental novelty.

It's really quite exciting, she must admit. What you actually are is a complete mystery. One that ought to yield very well to examination, however. She will need you to open your mind so that a closer look can be taken. Empty your thoughts. Let the wave of foreignness envelop you. Let yourself be carried off...

Quote from: Xantalos on December 18, 2015, 03:14:11 am

"Ah. Well, shit. There goes that plan.
...
Are there any religious places nearby? Preferably with statues or somesuch?"

Ah, now you get into his favorite subject. No statues, unfortunately, the man with no shirt says. But there is a perfectly serviceable stone circle over there, right next to the silly place made of bits of the other silly place. The silly places are ostensibly religious. But they don't have anything for you, whether material or spiritual. The priest and his wife happen to both be a grand combination of poor and cheap, and actual help is not among the things they are known to provide. Not that this stops some people from trying to obtain some, of course.

The circle, though, a statue wouldn't go amiss there now that you mention it. Maybe he ought to go ask one of the stone brothers about that. The slab has an elegance, of course, but the whole affair looks a little less intimidating than he would like. Delightfully primitive, true. Very ominous, he's sure you'll agree. But maybe something a little more impressive is in order. A testament to the fearsome mystery.

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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 259871 times)

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Dermonster

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

NAV

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Dermonster

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Dermonster

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Recycled, But Formidable