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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 259063 times)

Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #750 on: March 08, 2016, 04:25:26 pm »

Uhhhh...huh.

"I thank you for the most enlightening stories!  Sadly, I must really be going now; there is much still to be done!"

Hit the door as fast as possible to still be polite.  Run from surgery.  Just go in the easiest direction.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #751 on: March 08, 2016, 04:36:26 pm »

Okay, now that I feel better, let's see if I can pull this off. I make my way back to the extended sword trap, avoiding any other traps that are still armed.
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #752 on: March 08, 2016, 06:24:33 pm »

"By physical form I mean the body I have! Do you not perceive reality the way I do or actually no you probably don't. Uh. What was the word you used? Substrate, that's it. I want the substrate my mind is inhabiting to be impervious to damage, that's what I meant by physical form."

Clarify wish, then exit well.
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Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
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((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #753 on: March 09, 2016, 06:37:34 am »

Yay for my second bath, cold as it may be! And yay for profound lack of facehuggers and other arachnids!

Let's wriggle to upstream. Most likely cleanest water is in that direction. Maybe also an exit.

You crawl into the underground brook and find it to be invigoratingly cold and mineral-rich. Intrigued by where such a thing might be coming from, you move upstream like a sneaking salmon, the light gnawing of small, yet spirited troglodytic fauna giving your skin a much-needed cleansing.

[The Waters Beneath: 1]

The brook narrows more and more as you go on, the crack in the basal rock allowing it to exist decreasing in size until you come to a small mouth gushing water at the seeming point of origin, beyond which you cannot hope to follow, which leaves you with the rather unenviable option of wriggling all the way back. It's quite a long way, truth be told, so you get right on that.

Much to your dismay, however, the way back feels a little full as well, and chitters lightly as you poke it with your foot before beginning to advance on you with methodical invertebrate efficiency.

Odd. Very odd.
Follow Mr. Daniels through the exit.
((I wonder...))

You touch the door Mr. Daniels disappeared through, seeing no handle or anything similar, and you see it open before you, the black structure peeling inward as it parts to allow access to a solid wall of endless, ravenous night. The abyss regards you patiently, completely silent yet violently restless, its gaze setting your teeth on edge.

Looking at the darkness for a moment in the vain attempt of finding any sign of Mr. Daniels, you notice it deepen and hollow, the pitch blackness parting to reveal a path to depths of negative, mind-bending light, the blackness of a naked singularity, hanging perfectly paradoxical in the void, beckoning your approach with unconcealed anticipation. Share in the warmth of your kind, and it will overflow with warmth of its own.

Uhhhh...huh.

"I thank you for the most enlightening stories!  Sadly, I must really be going now; there is much still to be done!"

Hit the door as fast as possible to still be polite.  Run from surgery.  Just go in the easiest direction.

[Escaping A Conversation: 6]

Using her pause for breath you dive toward the door with a quick excuse. The first thing you hear as you start a sprint down the nearby hallway is hearty laughter, followed immediately by the doctor herself running out to give you chase as well as what sounds like a continuation of the lecture. You hear a hint of minder intrigue before you turn the corner and bolt right out of the keep, nipping into the old storehouse you awoke in right before she leaps out of the keep's entrance, taking a careful look around the courtyard, a goofy grin still on her face as she looks around for any sign of you. You think you've given her the slip for now, an impression reinforced when she redirects her attention to a nearby door guard, who listens with a look of concern as she starts to detail the rough hierarchy of the early minder lords to her and the collected evidence thereof.

Okay, now that I feel better, let's see if I can pull this off. I make my way back to the extended sword trap, avoiding any other traps that are still armed.

You climb out from behind the sarcophagus and move carefully toward the center of the room again, only to bump into someone on the way.

It is a familiar individual, your casual brush against him releasing a sweet, slightly choking aroma even if its body does not budge an inch, or make any other sort of movement for that matter. What you bump into seems to more specifically be its hands, which are put forward with palms up and cupped. From its hands a single tall mushroom seems to have grown. The posture of the creature is slightly bowed, its unrecognizable head looking down, spine bent a little forward.

"By physical form I mean the body I have! Do you not perceive reality the way I do or actually no you probably don't. Uh. What was the word you used? Substrate, that's it. I want the substrate my mind is inhabiting to be impervious to damage, that's what I meant by physical form."

Clarify wish, then exit well.

The substrate is already impervious to damage. You may ask an additional question - two half-answers will make for one fulfillment (see fairness, privileged information, price of idle talk).

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
« Last Edit: March 09, 2016, 07:40:22 am by Harry Baldman »
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #754 on: March 09, 2016, 07:05:14 am »

You... aren't supposed to be there. Uh. I guess I should probably get what I need and leave. Quickly. I move around the body, find the sword trap, and grab it with my left hand where the blade meets the mechanisms. Then I create an explosive cyst with my right hand, throw it at the ceiling where the trap connects, and run with it when it detaches.
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #755 on: March 09, 2016, 11:07:12 am »

Chitters? CHITTERS!?

Panic! Sober up in cold water! Do dolphin tailslap to stun it/them! Kick it! Don't breathe water! Panic!
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I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #756 on: March 09, 2016, 12:36:35 pm »

"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?"
Call into the dark. Then pour out the contents of a random bowl into the void before sending the bowl after it. Observe results.
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #757 on: March 09, 2016, 12:50:02 pm »

Jack twitches.

"See, this is what's known as poisoning your customer base. If you hadn't gone and decreased my deal I probably would've come back in the future at some point. Now I won't, and I'll be warning people like me against using you. But I get a question instead of a fulfillment, fine.

The substrate may be impervious to damage, but when I was hit by a shard of falling glass I was cut open, and I suspect if I punched through a wall of stone with my uncoupled strength I would break my arm. How may I reinforce my body so things like this don't happen?"


Adult version of a pouty toddler not getting their way activate!
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Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))

Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #758 on: March 09, 2016, 10:57:50 pm »

Probably should just wait here a moment.


Lurk quietly.  Contemplate what needs to be done for escaping this loony bin.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #759 on: March 10, 2016, 01:55:51 pm »

You... aren't supposed to be there. Uh. I guess I should probably get what I need and leave. Quickly. I move around the body, find the sword trap, and grab it with my left hand where the blade meets the mechanisms. Then I create an explosive cyst with my right hand, throw it at the ceiling where the trap connects, and run with it when it detaches.

You weave around the inconveniently positioned corpse and go grab the blade trap by the handle-like bit where the spring-loaded arm it's mounted on nearly ends. Your solution is as brilliant as it is obvious - explosives are the universal tool. What problem can't they solve?

[Controlled Demolition: 6]

You grow what at the moment seems like a reasonable cyst in your other hand and hurl it right into the gear-filled opening of the trap. It flies deep inside, which you suppose is very good, as it occurs to you that standing next to an explosion that has been known to pulverize piles of bricks is an unhealthy choice.

Granted, as an explosion rings out through the room and the ceiling starts to shake, you suppose that you're not particularly clear of danger regardless.

[The Sky Falls: 2]

You pull with all of your might and manage to remove the mechanical arm as well as its blade from its now-blasted mechanism, and along with it comes a whole lot of cracked and broken ceiling. As much as several tons of it, in fact! Fortunately, you're not entirely buried and crushed by it, having the good sense to try and scramble backward as you pull the arm along. Only mostly so. A bit stressful on the pelvis, you find, to say nothing of the legs (you've lost feeling in those, which you suppose is for the best, as you don't look forward to their eventual feedback).

Chitters? CHITTERS!?

Panic! Sober up in cold water! Do dolphin tailslap to stun it/them! Kick it! Don't breathe water! Panic!

[Sobering Fear: 6]

Oh god you are going to die here in this hole you could deal so much better with this if you were drunk why did you sober up! You tense up and grow turgid with sudden self-knowledge! Violent action ensues!

[A Cornered Rat: 3 vs. 5]

You try to kick at the advancing insectoid menace and succeed admirably at lodging your foot straight in its mandibles. Locking its forelegs around your ankle it begins to chew, mouthparts rhythmically constricting around your foot as bones are displaced and start to be thoroughly flensed by digestive juices. It feels much less pleasant than it sounds.

"Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?"
Call into the dark. Then pour out the contents of a random bowl into the void before sending the bowl after it. Observe results.

Your words feel muted as they fall into the dark, the sound going in, but failing to escape again. Grabbing a pot full of condensed and filthy basement moisture, you bestow a proper libation upon the strangely animate nothingness beyond.

[Glorious Experimentation: 2]

Your empiricism is sadly impeded by the fact it's entirely too dark to see inside the doorway. Nevertheless you sense an anticipation welling up inside your head as you continue to stare into it - not yours, distressingly.

The well awaits you beyond the threshold. Step inside. Bring warmth. Receive gifts. Speak plainly and receive the same.

Jack twitches.

"See, this is what's known as poisoning your customer base. If you hadn't gone and decreased my deal I probably would've come back in the future at some point. Now I won't, and I'll be warning people like me against using you. But I get a question instead of a fulfillment, fine.

The substrate may be impervious to damage, but when I was hit by a shard of falling glass I was cut open, and I suspect if I punched through a wall of stone with my uncoupled strength I would break my arm. How may I reinforce my body so things like this don't happen?"


Adult version of a pouty toddler not getting their way activate!

You and Mr. Erikson would get along famously. This insight shared freely.

As for reinforcement: consider wearing armor (see armor materials, defensive technology, conventional wisdom). It seems like this would help avoid most forms of harm to an adequate degree. The technology involved should be familiar to you. Aside from that, consider this: harm stems from the template, not from the substrate. Perfect invulnerability will always be beyond your reach (see template replacement, interests of fairness, fostering of creativity). Frailty, however, is a function of doubt.

Probably should just wait here a moment.


Lurk quietly.  Contemplate what needs to be done for escaping this loony bin.

[Ruminations On Escape: 2]

You're not entirely sure what would qualify as an escape. Being back in Albany, of course, but so far you get the impression that to achieve this a number of intermediate steps will be required, each more violently unknown than the last. A good candidate for the next thing to do would be to get past the so-called stout men safely, and they're apparently quite loony. Though the people who told you this were also quite loony, so perhaps you shouldn't put too much stock in their testimony.

Actually, come to think of it, hasn't everything even remotely useful you've been told thus far come from the mouth of someone who is at least slightly insane? And thus perhaps not quite as remotely useful as you thought? You don't think you're among friends here is the point. Or professionals, for that matter. Maybe their help is more likely to harm you than going at it alone.

Speaking of, the doctor seems to be asking the guard to follow her. The guard seems disinclined to do so. The doctor seems to not particularly care for such objections.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #760 on: March 10, 2016, 02:10:42 pm »

"On second thoughts, maybe this is a bad idea. This place seems unnerving, somehow."
Back away from the darkness. Rest in the corner of the room furthest from it.

Quote
Frailty, however, is a function of doubt.
Quote
You look at your hands. The blood-soaked burlap tied around each of them demonstratively drips on the floor, as if noticing your momentary concern. You wonder a moment if it would be strictly productive to doubt the honesty of your limbs, nominally under your control as they seem to be.
((highly interesting))
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #761 on: March 10, 2016, 02:34:02 pm »

Hmmm.  Wonder if there's a plank to stretch across the river.

Wait out the doctor.  Recall how far across the river was at its narrowest.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #762 on: March 10, 2016, 02:47:26 pm »

Oh by Odin's empty eye socket MURDER IT! Very much INEVITABLY murder it by virtue of being bigger and higher on the food chain! Kick it on ceiling and walls now that it's locked on my feet! Or something!
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I told you to test with colors! But nooo, you just had to go clone mega-Satan or whatever.
Old sigs.
Games.

penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #763 on: March 10, 2016, 03:44:50 pm »

Gah. Well, I have the thing! That's pretty great. I suppose next I have to try and push the rubble off myself.
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: A History of Disagreement
« Reply #764 on: March 11, 2016, 02:27:04 am »

((That well is a sassy motherfucker))

"Oh, so the template is my body, and the substrate is whatever material it's made up of?

Frailty is a function of doubt, you say.
...
Oh. I think I understand. My thanks, well. I'd ask more but I want to keep my connections right now until I'm certain I can get what I need. I'll be going now."


Exit deal! See if Mr. Wilde is still there.

"Well, that was an odd one. But I suppose you can't expect much more when dealing with things like that."
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Sig! Onol
Quote from: BFEL
XANTALOS, THE KARATEBOMINATION
Quote from: Toaster
((The Xantalos Die: [1, 1, 1, 6, 6, 6]))
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