Post by nocturne on Jun 12, 2009 19:14:31 GMT -5
Kime is late.
Also Burnage was right about him, and the narration made me all badass. Thanks Ed/Quoth.
So guys, I was already on the radar of a few people, and was attacked last night. I say at this point I just go full on and try to establish myself as the semi-network head. Not necessarily announcing such verbatim in the thread, but just trying to act as a prominent good figure.
This would require SkyCaptain to protect me.
Thoughts?
This is kime editing the post. I kind of like being an admin and having this ability, it's nifty. But since Nocturne complained that I was too slow, I will edit this and now it counts as mine. Also, Nocturne missed the narration. So yeah...
Also Burnage was right about him, and the narration made me all badass. Thanks Ed/Quoth.
So guys, I was already on the radar of a few people, and was attacked last night. I say at this point I just go full on and try to establish myself as the semi-network head. Not necessarily announcing such verbatim in the thread, but just trying to act as a prominent good figure.
This would require SkyCaptain to protect me.
Thoughts?
This is kime editing the post. I kind of like being an admin and having this ability, it's nifty. But since Nocturne complained that I was too slow, I will edit this and now it counts as mine. Also, Nocturne missed the narration. So yeah...
Day Three
"Can you vouch for him, Captain?" the Legion sergeant asked.
The grizzled military man shrugged. "I’m told he's a new recruit, fresh off the capital ship. Been a good one so far, even if he did make some..." He coughed politely. "Off-colour jokes."
"Hmm. Then let this Gnersh character go. But as for this other fellow… well, without democracy, we'd have anarchy, and there's no call for that." He motioned to two other Legionaries, who escorted Typhus to the yard they had set up as a temporary firing range.
Such a shame, the sergeant thought as the execution was carried out. Maybe we will have to kill all these damned Arcadians after all.
"Alright, lesson one, and listen carefully because I hate to repeat myself. I mean, you really should know all this already. You were supposed to be following my example. But I guess that was fun while it lasted- we did some good work."
Gordm’de watched him, wide-eyed and stinking of piss and fear. He'd survived the other attempts on his life. But this...
"Everyone's always talking about psychics and non-psychics, which doesn't really matter to me," he continued. "You've probably never heard of what I am, despite reaping the benefits and 'helping'. Are you listening?"
Gordm’de nodded.
"Technically I'm a psychic, but really they refer to me as something different. I am a transmuter." Gordm’de began to weep now, and the man smiled. "I'll give you a minute."
And he did. Exactly one minute later, a century to Gordm’de, his tormentor spoke again.
"Yes, the fairy tales are true. Yes, the horror stories your mommy told you to get you to bed on time are real. And yes, I can use my psychic abilities to change reality itself, not just manipulate it like the rest of the psychics in this forsaken hellhole of a universe. I don't have to kill you," he whispered, leaning closer. "I can make you cease to be. That is the level of power within me."
He stared into Gordm’de's eyes, unblinking, and Gordm’de could not look away. A thin thread of blood trickled from his ear.
"I can sense a bit of that power- my power- in your scared, terrified little mind. Just a little bit, of course, but a bit nonetheless. It really doesn't matter much to me though. Just because you have the power to pick your lunch up without a fork doesn't mean you deserve to be here more than anyone else, and it doesn't mean you deserve to take what was mine. And who deserves to be here anyway? Far as I'm concerned, nobody at all.
"Because even with the 'superpowered' brain that it takes to become psychic, or the intensive training it takes to be in the Domarian Legion, everyone's still too stupid to actually see this universe for what it really is," he sniffed. "We're all too busy trying to please people above us, so they'll elevate us up to their preconceived and arbitrary levels. It's disgusting. The universe needs another chance to go on without us. That's my mission."
The flow of blood increased and Gordm’de began to shake, but still could not avert his eyes from the man's penetrating gaze.
"Lesson one, I don't care about you, or anyone. After all, it's difficult to care about something that never existed." And then, somehow, he looked through Gordm’de, except now, there was nothing to look through after all.
Casualty report
Typhus733 – Arcadian Psychic, a Precog- democratically executed by the forces of the Legion
godmode – Disciple of the Renegade, the Overseer- repeatedly shot and telekinetically bludgeoned, and then unmade
Burnage – Arcadian Psychic, a Telekinetic- obliterated by unspeakable psionic energies
"Can you vouch for him, Captain?" the Legion sergeant asked.
The grizzled military man shrugged. "I’m told he's a new recruit, fresh off the capital ship. Been a good one so far, even if he did make some..." He coughed politely. "Off-colour jokes."
"Hmm. Then let this Gnersh character go. But as for this other fellow… well, without democracy, we'd have anarchy, and there's no call for that." He motioned to two other Legionaries, who escorted Typhus to the yard they had set up as a temporary firing range.
Such a shame, the sergeant thought as the execution was carried out. Maybe we will have to kill all these damned Arcadians after all.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Alright, lesson one, and listen carefully because I hate to repeat myself. I mean, you really should know all this already. You were supposed to be following my example. But I guess that was fun while it lasted- we did some good work."
Gordm’de watched him, wide-eyed and stinking of piss and fear. He'd survived the other attempts on his life. But this...
"Everyone's always talking about psychics and non-psychics, which doesn't really matter to me," he continued. "You've probably never heard of what I am, despite reaping the benefits and 'helping'. Are you listening?"
Gordm’de nodded.
"Technically I'm a psychic, but really they refer to me as something different. I am a transmuter." Gordm’de began to weep now, and the man smiled. "I'll give you a minute."
And he did. Exactly one minute later, a century to Gordm’de, his tormentor spoke again.
"Yes, the fairy tales are true. Yes, the horror stories your mommy told you to get you to bed on time are real. And yes, I can use my psychic abilities to change reality itself, not just manipulate it like the rest of the psychics in this forsaken hellhole of a universe. I don't have to kill you," he whispered, leaning closer. "I can make you cease to be. That is the level of power within me."
He stared into Gordm’de's eyes, unblinking, and Gordm’de could not look away. A thin thread of blood trickled from his ear.
"I can sense a bit of that power- my power- in your scared, terrified little mind. Just a little bit, of course, but a bit nonetheless. It really doesn't matter much to me though. Just because you have the power to pick your lunch up without a fork doesn't mean you deserve to be here more than anyone else, and it doesn't mean you deserve to take what was mine. And who deserves to be here anyway? Far as I'm concerned, nobody at all.
"Because even with the 'superpowered' brain that it takes to become psychic, or the intensive training it takes to be in the Domarian Legion, everyone's still too stupid to actually see this universe for what it really is," he sniffed. "We're all too busy trying to please people above us, so they'll elevate us up to their preconceived and arbitrary levels. It's disgusting. The universe needs another chance to go on without us. That's my mission."
The flow of blood increased and Gordm’de began to shake, but still could not avert his eyes from the man's penetrating gaze.
"Lesson one, I don't care about you, or anyone. After all, it's difficult to care about something that never existed." And then, somehow, he looked through Gordm’de, except now, there was nothing to look through after all.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Casualty report
Typhus733 – Arcadian Psychic, a Precog- democratically executed by the forces of the Legion
godmode – Disciple of the Renegade, the Overseer- repeatedly shot and telekinetically bludgeoned, and then unmade
Burnage – Arcadian Psychic, a Telekinetic- obliterated by unspeakable psionic energies
