RE: Chiasmata: Oh hey, that guy.
12-15-2016, 03:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-20-2017, 03:04 PM by K25fF.)
-===>
![[Image: ChdA7XO.png]](https://i.imgur.com/ChdA7XO.png)
As you boggle at the implications, the buzzing and crackle of tears opening, each one breached through reality.
SAM: “Oh, um, hey guys.”
ARCHIVE: “Greetings! I am a representation of the Archive of the Location and-”
SAM: “Wait, are you another one of those gangly weirdos? And why are you bleeding through your eyes?”
-===>
![[Image: cBBU2qe.png]](https://i.imgur.com/cBBU2qe.png)
The Archive's tone doesn't stray from cheeriness as a bunch of robots start dragging a giant spiky lump of stone out through the portal.
ARCHIVE: “Not at all! This is an entirely coincidental shell-corpse these syst- I mean, I, found! The resemblance to the Admins is completely coincidental.”
DANIEL: “Yeah. Sure.”
ARCHIVE: “I am glad you believe me. It is certainly a very uncanny resemblance. Almost too close to be a coincidence.”
DANIEL: “...”
ASH: “You said something about the... façade of the Location?”
ARCHIVE: “I did! It is to be replaced, which is why I am gathering most of you here. It will prevent injury or death when the façade is replaced.”
That sounds worrying.
>Is that a good thing or a bad thing for us?
![[Image: aNgmKuK.png]](https://i.imgur.com/aNgmKuK.png)
Portals keep opening, and people keep stepping through. Numerous whispered conversations are occurring in the periphery, getting people up to speed.
DAVID: “So, what exactly is this façade?”
ARCHIVE: “The interactible surface of the Location. I am not sure how else to describe it.”
JACQUELINE: “Wait, why are we trusting this guy?”
DANIEL: “I think either all of us acting together can take them out, or it’d be pointless to run away in the first place.”
DAWN: “That’s kinda dark.”
DANIEL: “Look who’s talking, shadowgirl.”
DAVID: “Shush.”
-=====>
![[Image: VimrS2Q.png]](https://i.imgur.com/VimrS2Q.png)
With pretty much everyone gathered, you are now briefly Sam, for simplicity of second-person narration.
ARCHIVE: “In order for many of the repairs I am planning to occur, I need to replace the façade of the Location. It will enable the conservation of power and possible debugging of power sources. Thus, I need to gather everyone to a position where I can... insulate them from the change of façade.”
SAM: “Why?”
ARCHIVE: “Data indicates that unprotected humans would not survive the raw concepts of the Location when unconstrained by the façade.”
DANIEL: “Doesn’t that imply that you murdered a bunch of people in the name of scientific enquiry, in order to work this out?”
ARCHIVE: “No. I believe it was my uncle who ran the experiments.”
DANIEL: “Your uncle? I thought you said you were a computer.”
ARCHIVE: “Yes, but I was created, and my DATA NOT FOUND creator had a brother. Ms Hallet and Lopes met my uncle, if my surveillance is correct.”
BONNIE: “He removed all my blood and then stuck a spike through my head.”
ARCHIVE: “Yes! It was at that point that he was engaged by a rogue shell, and I managed to sneak the pair of you away from the fighting.”
DANIEL: “Is that why your eyes look weird?”
BONNIE: “They look weird?”
DANIEL: “They’re kinda... golden? With these cool-looking flecks in and slit pupils.”
BONNIE: “Huh. Cool.”
DANIEL: “Anyway! Distractions aside, where are the other two? Aidan and... Omar, was it?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes! Mr Byrne is partially incorporated into the mass there, and-”
SAM: “Wait, partially incorporated?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes. Time is somewhat short, but I can work on freeing him when these processes have finished.”
SAM: “Can he even breathe?”
ARCHIVE: “At the moment, my information indicates that he does not need to.”
Well, that’s kinda reassuring.
CLARA: “But what about Omar? He’s not here, either.”
>Omar: don’t let them take you alive!
![[Image: fqdWYzS.png]](https://i.imgur.com/fqdWYzS.png)
ARCHIVE: “I was finding it difficult to convince that subject to come here, so I created a smaller version of this space around him. It will keep him contained until the substrate has been rearranged.”
CLARA: “What’s special about this room?”
ARCHIVE: “I will be replacing the façade manually in this room. It is a complicated process, but I have numerous catalysed shells present to manage the effects, and it should not in any way damage your biological, metaphorical or ontological matter. It is a simple space with nearly zero point zero zero three percent the volume of the shadow of the Location, and thus will be a far simpler problem to replace the façade. It is also closer to the Centre, and thus has simpler co-ordinates for the calculations.”
You try to interject, but the Archive is apparently very interested in explaining this.
ARCHIVE: “The basic algorithms and sub-processes for the destruction and re-coalescence of a façade have not yet been updated from the six-dimensional floating-point co-ordinates. It saves time and energy to work closer to the Centre, where the degree of temporal-physical precision is within one nanosecond-cubic ångström. I have to do less error-correction, and I have been informed that some of your organs are very delicate to small changes in precision.”
CLARA: “Um. Thanks?”
DANIEL: “What about these ‘Admins’? Your ‘Aunt’ and ‘Uncle’? And, uh, ‘Pibling’? What’ll happen to them when the façade changes? You can certainly babble about technical stuff, but something more concrete about the whole ‘alien monsters’ thing would be nice.”
ARCHIVE: “They will be harmlessly disintegrated.”
SAM: “Harmlessly?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes. They are currently in a fleshed state of simple matter, which will not survive the state change. They will reincorporate in a short period of time, which a subroutine I can’t locate is saying will be enough time to act as ‘a window’ for you. I am unsure what that means, and am running analysis on the location and source of that Voice.”
~-=====>
![[Image: lhAaZ98.png]](https://i.imgur.com/lhAaZ98.png)
The questions peter out, and the Archive corpse-thing lapses into silence.
SAM: “So, when does this thing start?”
ARCHIVE: “In this situation, I would normally seek admin permission, but I am currently controlling a shell that is very similar to an Admin’s fleshed form. I can do this.”
A little transparent panel materialises as they say that, and they tap its centre, lighting it up green.
ARCHIVE: “Now, you may all feel a slight stinging sensation."
DANIEL: “Ugh.”
ARCHIVE: “Followed by a loss of consciousness.”
SAM: “Wait, what?”
Everything goes black.
<Θ>
![[Image: OQ0shND.png]](https://i.imgur.com/OQ0shND.png)
You are somewhere.
You are someone.
There is a door. Closer to the door, there is light.
Behind you, there is darkness.
In the cold darkness, you feel the warmth on a faceless face.
The door is an exit. But all exits are entrances, also. But backwards.
It’s somewhat strange, philosophically.
You conclude, in the sense that you have always known (and thus, not really in the sense of ‘conclusion’ at all), that you are dreaming.
Dreams aren’t real. Except that isn’t true. Dreams are an expression of the electrical patterns of your brain, and those are certainly real. Real in the same way as words are. Symbols. Representative.
So, here’s a door. An entry or an exit, or maybe both.
What do you do?
As you boggle at the implications, the buzzing and crackle of tears opening, each one breached through reality.
SAM: “Oh, um, hey guys.”
ARCHIVE: “Greetings! I am a representation of the Archive of the Location and-”
SAM: “Wait, are you another one of those gangly weirdos? And why are you bleeding through your eyes?”
-===>
The Archive's tone doesn't stray from cheeriness as a bunch of robots start dragging a giant spiky lump of stone out through the portal.
ARCHIVE: “Not at all! This is an entirely coincidental shell-corpse these syst- I mean, I, found! The resemblance to the Admins is completely coincidental.”
DANIEL: “Yeah. Sure.”
ARCHIVE: “I am glad you believe me. It is certainly a very uncanny resemblance. Almost too close to be a coincidence.”
DANIEL: “...”
ASH: “You said something about the... façade of the Location?”
ARCHIVE: “I did! It is to be replaced, which is why I am gathering most of you here. It will prevent injury or death when the façade is replaced.”
That sounds worrying.
>Is that a good thing or a bad thing for us?
Portals keep opening, and people keep stepping through. Numerous whispered conversations are occurring in the periphery, getting people up to speed.
DAVID: “So, what exactly is this façade?”
ARCHIVE: “The interactible surface of the Location. I am not sure how else to describe it.”
JACQUELINE: “Wait, why are we trusting this guy?”
DANIEL: “I think either all of us acting together can take them out, or it’d be pointless to run away in the first place.”
DAWN: “That’s kinda dark.”
DANIEL: “Look who’s talking, shadowgirl.”
DAVID: “Shush.”
-=====>
With pretty much everyone gathered, you are now briefly Sam, for simplicity of second-person narration.
ARCHIVE: “In order for many of the repairs I am planning to occur, I need to replace the façade of the Location. It will enable the conservation of power and possible debugging of power sources. Thus, I need to gather everyone to a position where I can... insulate them from the change of façade.”
SAM: “Why?”
ARCHIVE: “Data indicates that unprotected humans would not survive the raw concepts of the Location when unconstrained by the façade.”
DANIEL: “Doesn’t that imply that you murdered a bunch of people in the name of scientific enquiry, in order to work this out?”
ARCHIVE: “No. I believe it was my uncle who ran the experiments.”
DANIEL: “Your uncle? I thought you said you were a computer.”
ARCHIVE: “Yes, but I was created, and my DATA NOT FOUND creator had a brother. Ms Hallet and Lopes met my uncle, if my surveillance is correct.”
BONNIE: “He removed all my blood and then stuck a spike through my head.”
ARCHIVE: “Yes! It was at that point that he was engaged by a rogue shell, and I managed to sneak the pair of you away from the fighting.”
DANIEL: “Is that why your eyes look weird?”
BONNIE: “They look weird?”
DANIEL: “They’re kinda... golden? With these cool-looking flecks in and slit pupils.”
BONNIE: “Huh. Cool.”
DANIEL: “Anyway! Distractions aside, where are the other two? Aidan and... Omar, was it?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes! Mr Byrne is partially incorporated into the mass there, and-”
SAM: “Wait, partially incorporated?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes. Time is somewhat short, but I can work on freeing him when these processes have finished.”
SAM: “Can he even breathe?”
ARCHIVE: “At the moment, my information indicates that he does not need to.”
Well, that’s kinda reassuring.
CLARA: “But what about Omar? He’s not here, either.”
>Omar: don’t let them take you alive!
ARCHIVE: “I was finding it difficult to convince that subject to come here, so I created a smaller version of this space around him. It will keep him contained until the substrate has been rearranged.”
CLARA: “What’s special about this room?”
ARCHIVE: “I will be replacing the façade manually in this room. It is a complicated process, but I have numerous catalysed shells present to manage the effects, and it should not in any way damage your biological, metaphorical or ontological matter. It is a simple space with nearly zero point zero zero three percent the volume of the shadow of the Location, and thus will be a far simpler problem to replace the façade. It is also closer to the Centre, and thus has simpler co-ordinates for the calculations.”
You try to interject, but the Archive is apparently very interested in explaining this.
ARCHIVE: “The basic algorithms and sub-processes for the destruction and re-coalescence of a façade have not yet been updated from the six-dimensional floating-point co-ordinates. It saves time and energy to work closer to the Centre, where the degree of temporal-physical precision is within one nanosecond-cubic ångström. I have to do less error-correction, and I have been informed that some of your organs are very delicate to small changes in precision.”
CLARA: “Um. Thanks?”
DANIEL: “What about these ‘Admins’? Your ‘Aunt’ and ‘Uncle’? And, uh, ‘Pibling’? What’ll happen to them when the façade changes? You can certainly babble about technical stuff, but something more concrete about the whole ‘alien monsters’ thing would be nice.”
ARCHIVE: “They will be harmlessly disintegrated.”
SAM: “Harmlessly?”
ARCHIVE: “Yes. They are currently in a fleshed state of simple matter, which will not survive the state change. They will reincorporate in a short period of time, which a subroutine I can’t locate is saying will be enough time to act as ‘a window’ for you. I am unsure what that means, and am running analysis on the location and source of that Voice.”
~-=====>
The questions peter out, and the Archive corpse-thing lapses into silence.
SAM: “So, when does this thing start?”
ARCHIVE: “In this situation, I would normally seek admin permission, but I am currently controlling a shell that is very similar to an Admin’s fleshed form. I can do this.”
A little transparent panel materialises as they say that, and they tap its centre, lighting it up green.
ARCHIVE: “Now, you may all feel a slight stinging sensation."
DANIEL: “Ugh.”
ARCHIVE: “Followed by a loss of consciousness.”
SAM: “Wait, what?”
Everything goes black.
<Θ>
You are somewhere.
You are someone.
There is a door. Closer to the door, there is light.
Behind you, there is darkness.
In the cold darkness, you feel the warmth on a faceless face.
The door is an exit. But all exits are entrances, also. But backwards.
It’s somewhat strange, philosophically.
You conclude, in the sense that you have always known (and thus, not really in the sense of ‘conclusion’ at all), that you are dreaming.
Dreams aren’t real. Except that isn’t true. Dreams are an expression of the electrical patterns of your brain, and those are certainly real. Real in the same way as words are. Symbols. Representative.
So, here’s a door. An entry or an exit, or maybe both.
What do you do?
Footnote: