Tag: homestuck

#30 The Grisaille Quincurion

| November 30, 2011 | 0 Comments

At night, one might glimpse the Grisaille Quincurion. It is a rare thing to see her alone and rarer still to see her stumbling through the streets. However, she might be seen on some nights, ones which are completely random in date, alone and arms full of her most recent purchase. It has taken her years to track down all of these parts, and many more to bring them all together. Five pieces of–not a puzzle. A game. Five game tokens, scattered across the world (and yet so close, suspiciously close). She might not have been meant to find them all and unite them, but tonight the last one comes home.

She has private quarters in the Lord’s house (quarters which are no where near as luxurious as those ones–but that was a lifetime ago), but she brings the parcel to the Yards on the opposite side of town. While she has her doubts that it will be enough to keep him from interfering, it is safer the farther it is from him. She unwraps it carefully: her strength is inhuman (and what is that? Was that a type of imp?) but it is still awkward in shape and size. Cables run across the room, creating hazards and setting up for awful jokes, and she curses when she realizes that she set it upon some of them. She spends another ten minutes, and she knows this because she has a clock in this room. Timepieces are contraband these days, but this is not an ordinary clock. Three hands tell time, and five pendulum swing irregularly, sometimes slowing down and speeding up without rhyme but definitely with reason. The day they stop is the day that everything will be lost.

She plugs in her purchase, and the middle screen flickers into life. It buzzes with snow, but she expected that. She only wished to see that it hadn’t broken completely on the journey here. She stands in front of the ancient but robust monitor and types:

N45. 46.5148 E4 49.6 2011-11-30

The middle screen flashes many times like it was trying to send a message to her (blinkblinkblink blink blink blink blinkblinkblink) before settling on an image. A strange being is in a room. It sits on a chair before a mirror, fingering long, thin pieces of keratin. It is dark and wiry, falling to its chin (it looks like a chin, at least) in messy spirals which twist and turn in any direction. It seems unhappy with the keratin, tugging on it as if  it would grow faster that way. She rubs her own bald head self-consciously and wonders what sort of keratin would grow upon hers.

(Black, some would say.

White, others.

Fewer would point out that no one knows what colour she is. She never goes out without every inch of herself covered. Not even her four associates know, or are too loyal to her to say. Rumours fly, but no one is certain if she will see about the end of one universe or the beginning of another.)

The screens on the other machines flicker with the same strange message and glow with the light of these strange creatures. They are unlike from each other, but more like each other than they are like her and the rest of these broken kingdoms. Human, she thinks, because she cannot imagine what the word would sound like. She recognizes these beings, and knows that she is too early in their lives. Directing them now would only frighten them. She needs them unafraid when they enter (her past, making it, shaping it, destroying it,).

The Grisaille Quincurion might be seen at night, but she usually is not. She has learnt to walk in the darkness better than shadows, and she will see that her plan comes to fruition.

==> PRESS ENTER TO BEGIN

#29 Renée Dupont

| November 29, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Renée Dupont

Birthday: December 21

Guardian: Tantie

Location: Lyon, France

Handlename: gildedGalatea, previously grandeCanicule

Typing style: tends 2 use short forms like ‘r’ and ‘u’ and lots of punctuation!!!!!

Fetch Modus: REVOLUTION

Items are assigned a weight based on size and arbitrary importance and added to the array. When the array is nearly full, for every three items added to the array an item of low weight is ejected, sometimes with enough force to break it. When the array is filled, items with a high weight are ejected with enough force to certainly break them, followed by a period in which more items are ejected at potentially damaging speeds. When this modus is in effect, CAKE cannot be added to the Syllabus at any time and will be rejected with potentially humorous results.

Kind Abstratus: SWORDKIND

First wielded an ancient, scimitar-like weapon taken from the HELLSPAWN CREEPY RUINS. She wields it poorly and without finesse, calling it the ANCIENT PIECE OF CRAP.

She later wields the RAPIER OF ROSES, which she found on her planet, lodged in the statue of a woman who might have been a princess and might have been a witch. It was hard to tell in the light.

Title: The Seraph of Space

Kernelsprite:

Tier 1: an amphibian idol (pre-entry)

Effect: webbed hands, increased durability and a somewhat weathered look

Dream: Derse

Planet: The Land of Ash and Frogs

Consorts: Absent-minded, olive lions

Associated Element: Fire

Associated Item: Metal

Denizen: Echidna

Abilities:

Manipulation of an object’s size and location. Limited transmogrification abilities. Forge-stoking and frog-breeding duties. Pre-emptive awakening of dream self.

Biography:

First baptised with the name ‘RAOUL DUPONT’, she realized and accepted that this was NOT WHO SHE WAS. Fortunately for her, her aunt (Tantie) was very accepting of the fact and helped her through it. While she still has a ways to go before she will feel completely certain in her own body (she has to be older to get the surgery), she definitely is much more comfortable now. She is homeschooled by her aunt, at first out of necessity (because children are cruel), and now because of convenience. She travels a lot because she is an ARCHEOLOGIST – but not the exciting why-did-you-touch-the-cursed-ruby-everyone-told-you-NOT-to-touch sort of way. There’s a lot more boring work and more phrase like OH SHIT IT JUST BROKE DID SOMEONE GET PICTURES.

She is not a fan of history so much as she knows it probably through osmosis. She prefers REPTILES, which are the COOLEST ANIMALS on Earth. SNAKES do not deserve the bad rep they get, right, Gadsden? Those AMPHIBIAN CREATURES WHICH ARE SLIMY AND CROAKY do not even hold a candle to how cool snakes are. They are just so weird and gross, and this TEMPLE FROM A BY-GONE AGE which she is currently at is really strange because who would make a temple dedicated to those creatures in the MIDDLE OF AN AUSTRALIAN DESERT. Getting to more comfortable topics which are less likely to induce nightmares, she likes COMICS and CARTOONS from any country (and tends to completely ignore the typical terms for them), just as long as they have a good story and art that doesn’t make her cringe. She met her best friends on an English-speaking Internet forum dedicated to CRANE BOY, the inspiring coming-of-age story of a boy who was having an identity crisis like she was. She also enjoys SLEEPING, even if her dreams are too purple sometimes.

She is the FIFTH PLAYER to play SBURB. She entered the Medium late by smashing a CRUXITE MIRROR.

#28 Simon Carran

| November 28, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Simon Carran

Birthday: April 25

Guardian: Mum

Location: Waterford, Ireland

Handlename:telepathicUnderdog

Typing style: Capitalises the beginning of sentences but tends not to use ending punctuation when a return will suffice

He also abuses the Common Capital when he wants to emphasise the importance of things

Fetch Modus: BLARNEY

Items are stored in a cloud server which other players may access if they have a complimentary Fetch Modus. When items are uploaded to the cloud, they are assigned a new, more glamourous appearance as a form of security. To download an item, you must know what it looked like without the Glamour. There are actually hundreds of items in the cloud (and don’t ask what that is, silly boy) which cannot be retrieved because their true appearance has been forgotten.

 Kind Abstratus: SPEARKIND

Starts off with an ACTUAL SPEAR belonging to his MOTHER. At some point, he switches it (but does not get rid of it) for the LÚIN CELTCHAIR, a fiery spear which he can equip without burning himself somehow. Later on, he equips another spear, the BONE OF COINCHENN, and the status of his previous two are unknown.

Title: The Heir of Mind

Kernelsprite:

Tier 1: Beatrix the Cuddly Toy Rabbit (pre-entry)

Tier 2: The Ashes of Aidan Carran (post-entry)

Effect: rabbit ears (coming out of bear ears); very soft, cuddly fur; stitching

Dream: Prospit

Planet: The Land of Luminescence and Perfume

Consorts: Mathematically-inclined, pink sheep

Associated Element: Aether

Associated Item: Oil

Denizen: Mnenosyne

Abilities:

An understanding of others and their motivations in order to manipulate them. Increased empathy. Inherits some abilities of the Seer class, namely being able to see some but not all possible outcomes of actions and utilize a MAGIC CUE BALL (which no one can figure out how they actually got here).

Biography:

Simon lives with his mother in a small flat in Waterford, Ireland. She’s a little odd, what with her INFINITELY LARGE COLLECTION OF SPEARS and KNOWLEDGE ON HOW TO USE THEM, but he loves her, regardless. It’s just. A little embarrassing to go out in public with her. (The other strange thing about his mother is her first son, who died around the same time Simon was born; she never speaks about him so he really has no idea what he was like).

He is interested in BOTANY, but so far has yet to grow anything and keep it alive. He can only ever keep PUMPKIN PLANTS from withering away, but they tend to vanish on him suddenly. His wardrobe seems to consist of EYE-SEARINGLY AWFUL FAIR ISLAND SWEATERS which are much too big for him, but he does not think so. They are WONDERFULLY WARM SWEATERS WITH CATCHY PATTERNS, you foreigners have no taste whatsoever. He is also fairly decent at BAKING and COOKING, but this is out of SELF-DEFENCE rather than genuine interest. The potato is the most versatile foodstuff that anyone had ever gazed upon and thought “Can I eat this?”

He is not a fan of LITERATURE of any sort and is Perpetually Annoyed with most cinema and animation from anywhere. He does like a few things, like CRANE BOY (the Japanese animated series of a possibly not-Japanese boy, he never quite understood how genetics work in fiction and suspects that neither do writers), which is how he met his closest friends. He does get on quite well with people outside of the Internet and is friends with most of his classmates, but there are just some things he will never tell them that his four friends from the internet already know. Like his dead brother, and the night that his brother’s father showed up and take his ashes from Mum.

He is the THIRD PLAYER to play SBURB. He entered the Medium accidentally when he broke the CRUXITE KNOT while trying to undo it.

#27 Ellie Iselin

| November 27, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Ellie Iselin

Birthday: May 2

Guardian: Uncle

Location: middle-of-nowhere, Nevada

Handlename: candidCultivator

Typing style: uses semicolons in place of other forms of punctuation [and square brackets];

only capitalizes proper nouns, like Nevada and Las Vegas;

Fetch Modus: VORTEX (also called HEART)

A network-like modus, in which most nodes are leaf nodes or parent nodes with at most two children at the same level. Items are placed at random around a single node which acts as a central hub. There is a limit to how many items can be stored in there (the first item added which is not the hub node is ejected at terrifying and potentially damaging speeds), but items can be retrieved regardless of order of entry. Do not try to remove the hub node. No, seriously. Do not try to retrieve it. NOTE: not responsible for any property damage or bodily harm caused by ejection of item(s).

Kind Abstratus: SPECTERKIND

First a toy replica of the MOON SPECTER belonging to a specific herione who will remained unnamed.

Upgraded it by combining its Captchacode with one for a metal pipe. Doesn’t have any special attacks, but does still light up and make sounds. Is also much better for hitting things with.

Tends to use in conjunction with her powers, but not necessary at all.

Title: The Smith of Dreams

Kernelsprite:

Tier 1: Two taxidermied parakeets, and one live parakeet which was lonely without the other two

Effect: 3 pairs of wings and a tendency to chirp. Is torn between isolating themselves and socializing.

Dream: UNKNOWN

Planet: The Land of Foam and Sand

Consorts: Shy, plum doves

Associated Element: Air

Associated Item: Stone

Denizen: Erebus

Abilities:

Can freely navigate dreams without being asleep. Capable of entering Dream Bubbles, making them, and observing them from outside. Can remove items from dreams, making them real. Dreamed of Prospit and Derse before the Game without a proper dream self (currently missing).

Biography:

When she was very young, her parents died in a FREAK METEOR CRASH and was raised by her uncle ever since. That’s the story he tells her at the very least, so it probably is true. She lives with him in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, NEVADA because her uncle has been BANNED FROM EVERY CASINO IN LAS VEGAS and can’t bear to live in any other city. He does not collect TAXIDERMIED PARAKEETS so much as he raises parakeets and has them stuffed when they die. As creepy as it is to be stared at by several pairs of glass eyes, it could be worse. It could be much worse.

She is interested in COMPUTER SCIENCE and CRYPTOGRAPHY, but is rather poor at both. Her love of ANIME and MANGA is the worst kept secret in the world. Recently, she has been falling out of love with them, but she will keep two animes close to her heart: ONE WHICH WILL REMAINED UNNAMED FOR COPYRIGHT REASONS and CRANE BOY, a unique take on a common folktale. It is how she made her closest friends. SPICY FOOD is the bane of her existence, as are caffeinated beverages. HERBAL TEAS are the best. Shut up, Tolya! She’s totally right. Even Nahid agrees, right, Nahid? Nahid? Come back!

She is the FIRST PLAYER to play SBURB. She entered the Medium when the CRUXITE DAFFODIL bloomed.

#26 Anatoliy Nikolayevich Mikhailov

| November 26, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Anatoliy Nikolayevich Mikhailov

Nickname: Tolya

Birthday: 7 November

Guardian: Papa

Location: a dacha near Samara, Russia

Handlename: acroamaticGrigori

Typing style: succinct. he does not capitalize anything, but does not forget punctuation. never uses contractions.

Fetch Modus: TETRIS

Items are assigned a random shape and must be put into the sylladex in an unspecified orientation. If the collection of items fills the allotted space, the bottom items are released. Violently. It is also the only way to get anything out of there, too.

Kind Abstratus: SHASHKAKIND

Initially used TASERKIND (a taser made from an old camera).

SHASHKAKIND was never simply a shashka, which he figured out the Captchacode for after some trial and error. After alchemizing a shashka, he combined the code for the shashka and the taser to make an ELECTRIFIED SHASHKA.

Title: The Locum of Power

Kernelsprite:

Tier 1: Papa’s good bear fur coat with the bear’s head for a hood (pre-entry)

Tier 2: a Garden Gnome (pre-entry)

Effect: Bear heads which wear cone hats; tendency towards isolation; faster than they look

Dream: Derse

Planet: The Land of Dust and Mortar

Consorts: Chatty, golden foxes

Associated Element: Earth

Associated Item: Lime

Denizen: Ismenius

Abilities:

Can temporarily harness the power of other players. Limited to one player at a time. Duration is measured in heartbeats, not passing time; this means that the Maven of Time cannot extend it with her powers, and that they last longer when he is calm. After the effect has passed, he must wait certain number of heartbeats before accessing another power. If it is just limited to his session’s players has yet to be seen. It is also unknown if it works on powers granted by the Horrorterrors of the Furthest Ring, because he took one look at that and said “no fucking way.”

Biography:

For most of the year, Tolya lives in a flat in Samara. However, we first see him in a dacha on a man-made lake that his father owns. How his father came into possession of this lake (which is as old as Tolya) is a mystery that many have tried to figure out: Tolya, his teachers, the government. Somehow, he has managed to evade the authorities on the issue.

Tolya does not like anything. There are just some things WHICH HE DISLIKES LESS THAN OTHERS. These things include CAFFEINATED BEVERAGES and BUILDING THINGS. Of the things he has built, he is the LEAST DISSATISFIED WITH THE HOMEMADE TASER. He has a GRAVEYARD OF COMPUTERS in his room because of his efforts to build a BETTER, FASTER, STRONGER COMPUTER. He also does not hate ELECTRONIC MUSIC, but do not tell the others.

He first met his friends on an ANIME FORUM, where he argued the CULTURAL MISAPPROPRIATIONS which CRANE BOY (the offensively incorrect re-telling of a Russian folktale) was guilty of. Their friendship is not one he can exactly recall because he cannot pinpoint the moment when he stopped hating them. This bothers him, but not nearly as much as his father’s GARDEN GNOME collection does. Those things are creepy.

He is the SECOND PLAYER to play SBURB. He entered the Medium with only moments to spare by opening the CRUXITE MATRYOSHKA DOLL.

#25: Nahid Athari

| November 25, 2011 | 0 Comments

Name: Nahid Athari

Birthday: 18 February

Guardian: Mom

Location: Ottawa, ON

Handlename: auxiliaryAssassin

Typing style: Perfect punctuation and capitalization, but has ishues wif spelling.

Fetch Modus: PURSE

This modus acts as an infinite bag of holding, allowing the user to captchalogue an item and store it in the Sylladex. The user may remove any item at any time, no matter what order items were added, but good luck finding it.

Kind Abstratus: LASERKIND

A laser gun made by combining a cap gun with a laser pointer. The combination of the two is, apparently, a lethal combination.

Initially, she wielded a kitchen knife, but she never allocated it to anything . She simply picked it up and used it.

Title: The Maven of Time

Kernelsprite:

Tier 1: Green octopus plush toy (pre-entry)

Tier 2: The lobster which was supposed to have been dinner (pre-entry)

Effect: Tentacles with suckers and claws

Dream: Prospit

Planet: The Land of Wheels and Icicles

Consorts: polite, chartreuse seals

Associated Element: Water

Associated Item: Glass

Denizen: Phorcys

Abilities:

Time-travel. Can jump to different moments in time and exist simultaneously at a single moment in time. Can travel backwards in time and return to initial time period. Creating “new” instances of herself can lead to the discovery of “omega timelines”, which are ones which have deviated from the alpha timeline so much that they have been marked for destruction. If that Omega Maven returns to the alpha timeline and merges with the Alpha Maven, she can remember what doomed that timeline and avoid it (the effect of merging with versions of herself which are marked for destruction has yet to be seen).

Biography:

Nahid Athari came from Iran to Canada when she was just a baby, so she has no memories of it. She lives with only her mother and is strictly forbidden from asking about her father. She assumes he was the reason she left Iran. Her interests lie in MARINE BIOLOGY, but not to the extent her mother believes. She just finds it fascinating. There is really no need to keep buying her PLUSH TOYS of MARINE FAUNA. She is FOURTEEN YEARS OLD, for crying out loud.

She can read and write in English, speak Farsi, and mock French. For some reason, she sleep-graffitis her walls with the word “AEON” a lot. She enjoys SOUNDTRACK MUSIC and FILM REMAKES OF MUSICALS. She likes to sing these songs, which she does badly. ANIME is her guilty pleasure. Discussion of the latest episode of CRANE BOY (the epic tale of a boy who learns that his mother was a bird) is what introduced her to her BEST FRIENDS FOREVER. The fact that they have never met face-to-face does not detract from that in any way.

She is the FOURTH PLAYER to play SBURB. She entered the Medium well before the countdown on the CURXTRUDER reached zero by turning over an CRUXITE HOURGLASS.

#20: Aidan Carran

| November 20, 2011 | 0 Comments

He should not be, but he is.

Like most children, he is born to a mother and a father. His father is sandy haired and hazel eyed, and Aidan takes most after him. They have the same dimpled chin, square, almost-heavy jaw, and mirthful eyes, but Aidan has the same thick, auburn hair as his mother. It’s the only obvious trait he inherited from her, and growing up, he thinks that it is as if she is leaving no trace on the world. Except not. He doesn’t think it for the longest time because things like mendelian inheritance and polymorphic traits are nothing but too many letters strung together.

He doesn’t really think about his family much until an assignment from school makes him discover his family tree. The assignment upsets him a bit, mostly because some kids in his class already had relatives do it for them, but he has to look up dead relatives who mean nothing to him on his own. Names and names, some similar to his and some not, and he puts numbers next to them and draws lines between them. Brothers and sisters, parents and child, cousins and cousins. His father’s family is huge, and he wonders if they could have been kings and queens in a different world than this.

(No.)

He nearly fails the assignment though, because as detailed as his father’s side of the tree is, his mother’s is so severely pruned that it’s a twig, connecting mother to son. Try as he might, he can find no information about her, no blood connecting him to relatives she no longer speaks to. He is her only family, as far as he can tell.

The same week he comes home in tears, holding his water-stained assignment, his mother talks with the teacher. Aidan doesn’t know what she says to his teacher, but he gets full marks the next day. He imagines that she tells him that she was not born but hewn from dust. She has no earthly family that mere humans would understand.

(Things he should never know but finds out much later: his mother was not born but created, DNA copied from her own future (or is it past?) and woven into being. She is a paradox that must exist.)

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

When he was much younger, he wanted a little brother or sister. Mostly a little brother because he had heard that little sisters were Annoying. Any sort of sibling would do, though. He would have someone to play with after lessons ended, and because he would be the older one he would show them how to do things, too. His favourite part of learning a new game was to teach it to others, and that was hard when all of his friends already knew.

But his mother would always shake her head no, even if his father gave a non-committal maybe. One night, when he had asked a little too often the eternal question ‘why?’, his father asks, too, and his parents proceed to have the Worst Row Ever. Not that he sees it. He gets shooed out of the room quickly by his mother, her blue eyes as hard as diamonds, but the remnants last for days: frigid silences, awkward hair smoothing, and a few empty bottles of Guinness, which is a Truly Bad Sign because Dad hates that piss water except on Special Occasions, like rows.

He doesn’t ask why again, and proceeds to make every other kid on the street his little brother or sister, even if they were, technically, older than him.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He is twelve when his father leaves. The last night he sees his father alive, he comes into Aidan’s bedroom. His father doesn’t know he is awake. If he did, he wouldn’t have said those words:

“I can’t stay,” he says. He strokes Aidan’s hair and kisses him on the forehead. “I thought I could. I thought that maybe if I loved her hard enough that she would come around, but I can’t do it anymore. Be strong.”

He kisses Aidan one last time, closes the door, and walks out of his life forever.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He spends the next six years of his life wondering if his father didn’t love him, or didn’t love him enough to stay.

Six years, because freak accidents happen.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He is fifteen when he loses his virginity to a classmate. She is hardly a sweet girl, but you wouldn’t know that from the way she wears her uniform at school (completely within regulation, right down to the freshly pressed, perfect pleats of her skirt) or the sensible ponytail her hair is (almost) always tied back in (easy and quick, like she is). But he knows because they are too similar not to know. The broken, jagged pieces he sees in himself – because he is fifteen and every fifteen year old sees them even if they are, in fact, rather dull – are in her, too. She knows what it is like to lose a father (and it is loss, because they are still alive somewhere but in uncharted lands).

They don’t go to school the next day, suddenly girlfriend and boyfriend, nor do they come to school, suddenly ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend. They completely ignore each other until the next school-wide party, when she’s drunk and talking about how he was in bed (vanilla, she says, with a slur that makes it more like bani’a) so he starts to talk about how he got her there.

He never hated her until that moment. She just wasn’t broken enough to understand.

(He thinks that in another world than this, because he still believes in those more than he believes in things like God and other people, that they could have loved each other, fitting their broken pieces together until they were whole again.)

(He is wrong.)

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He knows his mother is strange because she has no family. She had no support system, not after his father left and took his whole family with him. Without him, it was just Aidan and Erin. That wasn’t too strange, though. He wasn’t the only kid to be raised by just a mother.

It’s the other things, though. The things that made his father run away and never come back, and probably drove other men away, too.

The way she looks at people as if trying to find someone. She doesn’t know quite what they look like, but when (if) she finds them she will know who (what) they are.

(She did once, lips turning into such a large smile that Aidan wondered how her face even had room for it, but Aidan hauled her off  down a street before she could run up to the Russian and do whatever to him.)

The way she looks at the sky, night and morning and every hour between, as if it might be the last time she will see it.

(Worse is when she stares at it as though it is supposed to do something for her. Give her back her ex-husband, except she never cried once over losing him like Aidan had.)

The way she looks at Aidan in amazement.

(Like he is not supposed to exist.)

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The weirdest thing about her is the fact that she knows how to use a spear. It’s strange enough that she knows how to fight in the first place and used to work as the World’s Little Bouncer. She could outmuscle his dad on any occasion and beat anyone at a wrestling match. She’s five foot six, always wears heels, and has embarrassed more than one drunk. All of that is not nearly as weird as the fact that she can use a f***ing spear.

Why and how, he has no idea. It’s just another of his mother’s many quirks, and one of the more benign ones (to him, at least), so he tries not to think about it too much.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He is eighteen when he dies because freak accidents can also be called Really Sudden Accidents.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

He is eighteen when he wakes up again, his body red and wispy, like a bloody ghost. Light shines from his body and he knows. He knows everything or near to it – this Game he is now a part of, that his mother was created for, and the rules of it – and he knows what his purpose is.

And he knows who this boy is in front of him, who never knew any father and was more loved by his (their) mother and brought about this end, and he doesn’t care if this boy is supposed to create the new world because there will be no place in it for Aidan, the Boy Who Shouldn’t Have Been (and he knows this, too, and it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the fact that this is the son his mother was waiting for), and–

–he might not be able to break the Game with his own hands now, but he can break this boy.

#19: Gadsden

| November 19, 2011 | 0 Comments

He is not born in the strict sense of the word. It is best to describe his coming to existence as creation. Letters from an unprecedented code strung together into words into blood into bone and flesh and scales. The Green Sun burnt his eyes out as soon as he was, but he never needed physical vision to begin with. He knows nearly all things which are, have been, and will exist, and thus sees nearly all things, too. He knows a few things which Must Never Be, warnings of damnable but not doomed futures, and he must see that these do not occur.

Didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt like hell, though.

<><><>

For a very long time, he is bored.

His planet is so boring at the moment. It will be years before they do anything remotely interesting. He had to show them how to make fire, of all things. (And they will use it magnificently, he has decided, as they will use all things he teaches them.)

Boring, boring, boring. He winds across this planet, still young and fresh, waiting for his dominoes to fall. Waiting for dominoes to exist. He likes those, and his scales turn black and white. It will be ages before someone makes them, though, given that they are still struggling to speak in more than grunts and whines. If only he had a proper voice and not this infernal hiss. He can’t get anything across, can’t make things go any faster. He pokes and prods and occasionally bites things, but his efforts are futile. This is how this world works: he nudges (and can only nudge and gently push, cannot even whisper suggestions into ears like they think he can. Will think he can. Had thought he could) knowledge onto these stupid beings in hopes that they will become less stupid. It’s a painful process.

<><><><><><>

He waits and plans out the lessons he will teach them. He does not decide what those things are because he already knows what they are. They have been taught so many things, and all by him, so he must teach them. He doesn’t have the option of forgoing something and watching that time pocket collapse. Not for a very long time, at least. He must take the slow path, the painful path to reach the Final Reckoning.

(He thinks that this is stupid phrase for it, so he teaches them new words for it. Apocalypse, Armageddon, Ragnarǫk, Doomsday, Yawm al-Qiyāmah, the Great Cycle of the Long Count.)

At the same time, because while there is so much to do, there is so little to think about. These creatures are dumb now, still so foolish, believing every putrid thought he gives them because it is the only way they understand. A few are smarter, know better, and he spends time with them. Diamonds in the rough. Stars to navigate by. If not for them, he would have–

–not given up, no, he cannot because he does not. The future is unreachable if he gives up moulding this world to its final purpose (and maybe more, if he can plan it right).

These minds, rich and succulent like fresh fruit (which he cannot eat, not with this body, but he knows what it tastes like and longs to bite into that flesh himself and savour its sticky, sweet blood), make the wait bearable.

<><><><><><><><><>

He gives them language so that they may warn each other of the coming future, full of fire and destruction.

He gives them mathematics so that they may calculate when that day will come and make amends and pay their dues.

He gives them weapons so that They may use them to defend Themselves, planting the seeds of fire and power and metal long in the past so that others may perfect them and Their Guardians may teach Them.

He does not teach them how to kill. They figure it out themselves.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

When there is time, he plans accordingly for a time he does not know (not past, not present, not future, not Time That Must Not Be). He ponders the ways it could occur, and deduces the ideas which will not work, having seen the way this species operates. He has a long time to plan and a (relatively) short time to execute it. A good plan must have structure and strategy, but also allow for flexibility. Those Children (and they are, but there is no room for pity in his heart) are blind spots in his Vision, which is still too green for his liking, but he can predict how they will act.

They are young. Will be young. (And will always be young.)

(And if it all goes right, never were young.)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Among the plans to make sure that the Fifth Universe comes (he likes that name best), he also makes plans to die.

He is so very tired and old.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

He lists the Things Which Must Never Be:

She must not become powerful (he has made her influence weak. The company she built across the multiverse is only a continental giant, and that is good enough. He makes sure there are people who appreciate creating things from scratch and tasting them, too).

He must not be here (too late, this is a silly event to avoid. He is always here).

That Doll cannot exist (this is more of a personal preference. That Doll frightens him).

That Silly Man cannot steal the Wall (which does not make sense, but he executes plans to avoid this anyway, even if he must work harder to make up for the development lost).

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The Guardians come, and he wishes he could feel some sort of kinship to them. They, like him, are bred for this Game. Without it, they would not exist. Their existence is paradoxical just as his is (the code that he is forged from does not exist yet, will not exist yet for another generation, and he will make it happen).

(So close now.)

But they do not have to live for billions of years, watching these creatures climb out of the primordial soup and then proceed to get even that wrong. They only have to live for a few decades, knowing only in their dreams (the ones he gives them because they must know their purpose, the sole reason why they exist) that they were created to Guard Those Children.

(They are yours, he tells them in their dreams, the only place he has a voice they can hear. You will find them one day, and you will expect it. You will teach them how to live and to fight, to struggle in the face of adversity and to strive against all odds.)

(Teaching them to love is not what he does. They will learn that on their own.)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A blind spot:

One of the Guardians has a child, a flesh and blood child of her own.

He does not know what to make of this development, and lets it figure itself out.

(It does.)

(And doesn’t.)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The First Child comes, the light of Her Meteor shining like a new sun in the twilight. She lands in one country, is picked up, and Guardian and Child flee to another.

The Second Child comes and solves the problem of the scotomic child.

The Third Child comes, and the dust does not settle for a long time.

The Fourth Child comes and confuses a lot of people into thinking that the sun had risen twice. Stupid humans.

The Fifth Child comes and he goes to the place where the Meteorite landed. This Child is his, and will have two Guardians instead of one, because if he has any hope at all of getting what he wants (an end), it is with This Child.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

He watches This Child grow up, whispers into His (no–Her now) Dreaming ears, and wants to be able to do it without tormenting Her so.

It is a strange feeling, but so is the way that This Child will stroke him, wearing crimson and navy (for those two worlds that no longer are, their destruction becoming his source and bane), like some humans stroke smaller, fluffy beasts they domesticated.

If this is domestication (if this is love), he likes it.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Game start.