fdenied-unedited Chapter 2: wormselderevilmanagementsystem1, a x-overs fanfic

Sep 2, 2015

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[Take Worm CYOA with The Gamer and Power Manipulator as base, add D&D, Pathfinder, PS:T and BG. Stir gently. Play some nice music, maybe read it some poetry. Once it has calmed down, blow up the universe beside it. When it recovers, add monsters. Repeat last two steps as needed. Enjoy while still warm.]

Hello everyone!

I have been doing worldbuilding for years, but only in the past few days have I blitzed into direct creative writing again. I've always wanted - and enjoyed - (even somewhat) well-written super SUPER OP crack pro-tags, of all sorts, and the interesting processes involved in how to get THEM challenged, or suffering, or maybe even a tiny bit of happiness.

Story highlights so you can decide whether it is worth reading or not:

It is my first 'serious' work of fiction. It may have spirit and drive, just like a three year old and a paint-ball cannon trying to do 'art' while running around screaming in surprise at the loud noises.

Loose original concept is based on CYOA Worm, with Gamer + a 'downgraded' Power Manipulator as base and a few other options taken.

The story BELOW starts hundreds of personal subjective years after the CYOA would have ended, and is potentially much, much, MUCH later than that (see various time flubbery).

YES, that DOES mean Gamer level 999 or whatever. But I'm attempting to make a Gamer fic... With next to NO numbers. :)

The current setting will become a mega-merger-crossover insane joyful MESS out of (mostly canon) D&D, Pathfinder, bit of Cthulu stuff (hello Bestiary 4!) and... Will see what else. The mergers will be accross space *and* time, and explained in-universe as well.

My personal challenge is to use as much original named characters, monsters and places as possible. Instead of inventing companions, they will be pulled in cross-time, found in-setting, converted, etc. (I've already failed this a tiny bit. Boo!)

Titles that WILL form a signficant backbone of the story include the Baldur's Gate games, Planescape: Torment, Arcanum (in reference) and... We will see!

My aim is to make a realistic world and set of characters out of some very, very insane people, places and powers.

Rule of Cool, Rule of Awesome. Here to have fun. Not to make too much sense. :)

There WILL be ANGST and SUFFERING. Immortality just means more time to accumulate mental trauma! :p

There will also be humour and craziness.

NO Drizzt Do'urden! :p

Y! :)

* Please note that the action gets really started in 2.1 - 1.1 and 1.2 are info-dump-ish! *

Index - Dragon Swarm Arc:

1.1, 1.2 - The First Second Is Very Long

2.1, 2.2, 2.3, 2.4, 2.5, 2.6, 2.7, 2.8 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

3.1, 3.2, 3.3, 3.4 - The First Hours Are Rather Short

Index - The Legend of Greyface: (Flashback arc. Planescape: Torment.)

P.1.1, P.1.2, P.1.3, P.1.4 - Two Ladies, One Shadow

Omakes:

OM1 - The Line Drawn by Taylor (non-canon, right after 3.4)

Interlude Info-dumps (done in-character):

X.1 - State of the Planes (current to ~ 2.3)

X.2 - An Empress Walks Into A Group Therapy Meeting... (written after 2.8)

Info-dumps & References (not done in-character):

0.2 - Master Writing Reference Sheet & Reader Questions (updated 28/09/2015)

Extras:

Story version only located here. (Temp stopped due to multiple arcs occurring)

Spoiler: Alternate Titles Ideas

Spoiler: The poem 'Ozymandias' by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Spoiler: Alternate Story Arc Titles

Spoiler: Past Poll Results

Spoiler: (2.6) Super Ultimate Condensed Supreme Story!

Last edited: Oct 10, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 2, 2015

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Threadmarks 1.1) The First Second

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 2, 2015

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- Index / 1.1 - The First Second / 1.2 - The First Second -

1.1 - The First Second is Very Long

Place: City-State Wastelands.

Position: Hovering in the air.

Mood: WTF?

Time: Frozen.

Huh.

The sky is full of dragons.

I kept mumbling that to myself, repeatedly. Well, thought mumbling at least. From a distance, what was originally a hazy cloud on the horizon - and then a flock of overlarge birds - turned out to be something much more ridiculous. Getting nearer just a little bit closer made it much, much worse.

The sky is full of dragons. Dragons everywhere! It is a dragon-utopia! Dragonado with a storm front of dragons!

Except, of course, for the fact that these dragons were not the friendly kind. These were most definitely the "argh, I'll rip off your legs and eat them while lightly burning your face with my fiery breath listening to your dying screams! Mwahahaha!" type. Very strange, considering that there were dragons of all kind here, and not just the obviously evil, stereotypical chromatic types - the black, blue, green, red and whites - but the metallic and a few exotics ones as well. The "good" metallic dragons of brass, bronze, copper, gold and silver were doing a great impression of Crawler covered in metal glitter going wild at a petting zoo. Full of gasoline covered sheep. With a flamethrower strapped to his head. And little children running around screaming. Yes, that is a disturbing mental image right there. Slaughterhouse Nine? More like Slaughterhouse Nine minutes! I kid, I kid... It was more like seven and half. Five maybe? Hmm. I'd have to check the logs. The Butcher was more complicated... Still.

The sky is full of dragons!

What is that, three times now I thought that? Log... Log... Yes. Three times. Of course, it is not enough for these dragons to just be killing each other, oh no! They have to be doing other sorts of acts of mass destruction. Do dragons actually qualify as weapons of mass destruction? What is the official definition, anyways? Probably thinking things along the lines of "Pesky ants! How dare you interfere with our mighty battle! Stay where you are and accept your fate as nameless collateral damage like a good piece of background stationary that you are!" I thought-sighed. I would sigh, for real, except for... You know. Menu pause. It is the key, KEY thing in my very, very long existence that allows these overly long mental monologues to go on, without being interrupted by the ineffectual flailing of a demon lord, or super-villain, or cosmic space entity or little kid kicking my shins or whatever dammit! Thankfully, I am immune to errant gusts of wind or debris accidentally disturbing my appearance.

How am I looking in third person view?

Pretty good there, Taylor! Yes indeed. I can dimly remember the tall youth I used to be, but now - and in all the centuries since then - I've adjusted and improved things, bit by bit. Please don't be too attached to the mention of centuries. That number is very roughed in, and I'm not counting all the time that I've spent in accelerated states watching doom and destruction flying around me at ridiculously slowed speed. Paint drying is fascinating compared to some of the stuff I've gone through. Seriously. I have no idea whatsoever how the Flash is able to stand his existence without going batshit crazy all the time, forever, always. Without being able to turn off my thoughts even Gamer's Mind has to have some limits! Well, no. It doesn't. But still! I don't like it.

I'm wearing a mildly loose, overlarge yellow robe, hood down. It's not my first choice. Personally, I really liked the snappy red suit that I commissioned at Thurston's Fashion Palace in Tarant, but it would be vastly out of place in this cluster of universes. Come to think of it... It was out of place in Tarant as well. Okay, fine, it would be more out of place here. The black star-sky suit might be suitable, but then again... Battlefield! Argh! Of all the places to be thinking about fashion, this is probably the least likely. Or maybe the most likely? It's not like there are battlefield reporters going around asking screaming bloodthirsty warriors "hey you! Yeah, the lady with half your face dissolved by acid stabbing the orc in the guts with his own spear! Can you tell me if you are thinking about fashion right now? Can you share some of your wardrobe tips? Do you even have a wardrobe? The public wants to know!"

A moment of silence for the utter insanity of those thoughts.

...

It is a lot better then the thought train that leads to Emma, because that leads to Sibby and... Thank you, Gamer's Mind. I'd be insane a million times over if not for my own little redundant department of redundancy department.

Okay! What are some memorable battle armours! Obviously, there are all those yummy hi-tech suits - I miss you, custom decal Heavy Predator H Armour! - but they too, sadly, would be greatly out of place here. Don't forgot the shoulder mounted triple laser dot plasma cannons, those were sweet. 'Predator', my ass. Just set up some IFF rules and... Gibs everywhere! Hmm. These prime material worlds are more suited to magitech then hi-tech. Well, I'm going both routes with my soon-to-be-planetary empire south of Tarant - not like Dernholm counts for anything. By soon I mean centuries. What is time with time travel, anyways? Meh. Too bad that I can't co-exist in the same time stream as a future self. Always creates an alternate spin off universe when I try. Which has its pros and cons, I suppose. No multi-playing for me! I'm the eternal hardcore cheat mode Gamer with only one save slot and a really, really big sandbox game to play in. Can't quit, either. I tried the button. It gave me a mocking pop-up then faded to grey. I've fantasized about power clicking that button a few trillion times in case there was some secret unlocking requirement - I found a few already! - but dread the thought that it might actually disappear instead of being greyed out. At least like this I can look at it, and imagine. Hope. And...

Gamer's Mind is very helpful.

I suppose anyone reading these logs can understand why I need menu pauses. Just standing around ignoring everything without breathing or moving, nigh invulnerable to the world around them, would be a bit disturbing. Those readers! I can imagine it now: "Why are you so mentally chatty? Don't you have something better to do? Describe your boobs or something already!"

Bastards, all of them! I'll describe my boobs when I'm good and ready! Camera... Well alright, the yellow robe isn't that flattering. Still, it is a bit hard to hide C's so its not that bad. Zoom, pan, side profile... On second thought, this robe suits me. At least for now. I'll have to get used to it, unless I want to pass it on to some sacrificial humanoid and kill Hastur again. If I have to do it again, I'll use the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and make it stick. Annoying auto-resurrecting Great Old One. Cthulu was easier. They seem like odd fits to this this multi-verse cluster, but whatever. Didn't I see them in some strange, doomed alternate Earth? We played this weird variant of chess that caused nearly non-stop pings of Gamer's Mind, but it was pretty fun. I heard something about the Far Realms here, so maybe thats it.

Got your robes, King-in-Yellow! Neener neener!

But hot damn, did I get a great boost in resistances shrugging off that particular combo destruction-possession attempt! It might have even destroyed my body again! Tiny tiny chance, but still... That would have been annoying. Four days respawn... After all, without me, I'm a bit iffy on what would have happened to my companions. Or this multi-verse, for that matter. Okay. I'm lying there. I know exactly what would have happened. Hastur would have shown up, been all "Hi guys! Insanity and death for EVERYBODY!" and they all... Would have died. Insane, in pieces, gibbering in madness, making with the chunky salsa landscape design motif...

Gamer's Mind. Your one-stop shop for stopping extreme bouts of depression, melancholy and berserk rages! Before they even really start!

Okay, those notifications are getting a bit annoying. I'm turning it off for now. It will still be logged, at least. After all, everything gets logged. There are thousands of hidden options. Want to find out how many skin cells I shed on the second day after I so-called-triggered? Its all there. I shudder at the word count. Or worse thought yet, editing it. Burnt out the Archive for a few weeks, too, when I visited that particular dimension. I was all like "No, I swear I am not an eldritch abomination here to devour your universe! White Council, yay!" and "I'm helping! Let me clear up that little Outsider problem you have by the Outer Gates!" and then finally "Wow, you guys are all really friendly all of a sudden! Sign the Accords? Can do!" What a riot. Still. That was a better first impression than what I made with the Q Continuum. Mother Winter and Summer are really nice entities once you get to know them. They looked a lot more comfortable once they flexed the boundaries of those humanoid forms.

Mental note: Dyson spheres are on my to do list and I will have them. In all the colours of the rainbow. Including octarine! Well. Maybe.

I really am doing this mental monologuing thing a lot.

Status. Quests. A huge chunk of handicaps turned on, just to make me a bit less of overpowered monster and to boost the final point score. After all, I'm on an Epic Quest here! Hardcore mode: disabled loads, no out of universe cluster transportation (or communication, for that matter), and a point penalty system for 'unexplainable' power use and more. I already hit that one a few times. No one hundred percent perfect completion for me here. Boo. Well, at least I'm not doing the Pacifism challenge again. It was fun - for certain definitions of fun - but beating up monsters to near death then passing them over rankled somewhat fierce. At least until I made a game out of it: "Taylor does another assist! Ten points!" I still used Taylor as my name back then.

Epic Main Quest: Save this multi-verse!

Time Limit: Before all space, time and matter is destroyed in a multi-universe-annihilating cataclysm.

End Conditions: Fully stabilize the self-destructing multi-versal accelerating cascade OR destroy everything yourself.

Bonus Options and Challenges: -...

I'll admit it. I stared hard at that "destroy everything yourself" option. Again. It wouldn't be the first time I've gone "oops, I accidentally the universe!" on places I've visited. A few of those were NOT accidents. Every day, I fully realize what Superman said in his "world of cardboard" speech. He's hot! Still squishy, though... Except I just wish it would be cardboard! That would be an improvement, damn it! More like soggy wet tissues. Of blood. Everywhere!

...

Yeah, my log did just register another use of Gamer's Mind. Okay. Focus, Taylor. Deep think-breaths. This is all doable. You can save this multi-verse. It is not a write-off. Lets do some cinematic camera panning with zooming. You like that, remember? Turn my music back on!

Spoiler: Queen - We Are The Champions

In my corner: me. Taylor Hebert, going by the alias Taaybet for a few centuries now. Wearing a very suppressed-but-not-totally-dead-and-gone Great Old One's evil major artifact grade yellow robes, which do look flattering, thank you very much. I have the hood down, to prevent the whole accidental glimpse leading to insanity of friendlies and to show off myself. I'll admit to a large number of tweaks: slightly pointed ears, perfectly symmetrical face with full lips, crushed rainbow eye pupil colour, mildly opalescent glimmering skin, complete set of perfect mildly pointed teeth and... To cut things short, I'll just say that to get my current appearance, start with an average tall, thin, boyish young human woman with somewhat pale skin and great hair and add a few centuries of reality-warping photoshop and the odd consultations with alien beings that want to worship you no matter how many times you say "no thank you, I'm not a goddess now, but I'll make sure to tell you once I ascend!" I had to cut back. Some of the modifications caused... Alittlebitofinsanityanddeath. So. Yeah. I'm awesome! No shadow, though. That is disabled in my personal video options menu, and safely locked up inside me.

Thank you, Gamer's Body, for keeping me in this humanoid shape. Without it, I'd probably freak out hagunemnon-type proteans. Again. Monster - better known as Fucking Monster - has a pretty scary power . If I ride that train for a while... Wow.

The robe is surrounded by a constant false wind effect that makes these floppy little robe swaths look less like a circus dumpster-diving beggar's rags and more like some sort of super-mystical arch-mage's epic enchanted swag clothes. Of course, it is yellow. But if anyone asks about the colour I'll just smile and make a vaguely aloof expression - perhaps with steepled fingers held in front of my face! - until they give up. They haven't yet, for some reason. The robe also provides the ability to float on air and a fair bit of accelerated speed, which I can use to cover the nature of my even faster flight and speed. Thank you, Great Old Ones - your epic relics give me a legitimate excuse to exercise my own power in public!

Thought-cough.

Yes. Other awesome yellow-robey powers include an excuse to be actively nigh-invulnerable and mentally control four cloth lashes - think razor-sharp epic slashing battle fans that have a reach of forty feet that cause unnatural cumulative bleeding effects and can (now!) do that in multiple times in seconds - with the assistance of a teeny bit of telekinesis. I can flense giants with my robe. "Fee fie foe dead." I also get to hand-wave a bunch of my other skills by saying "It's the robe." Eventually, the rapid auto-resurrecting feature will be mine as well, though I hope the whole "need another humanoid creature to utterly destroy and replace when worn" part gets changed by then. Well, at least the Practice Effect is having a great time on all my robe's active attributes. All the properties are slowly being improved - eventually it won't even qualify as Hastur's robes any more, regardless. Thought-sigh. The full mastery-identification is taking so so long...

I mentally poke at the progress bar to make it go faster. Surprise surprise, it doesn't. I tried dumping enough power into it to make a sun go supernova and collapse into a black hole at the same time - don't ask me how, I know its bullshit impossible - and it only moved about nine thousandth of a percent. Guess patience is a virtue, here.

My 'mount' - if you can call it that - is stuck in Planar Sphere version two, happily feeding on various exotic arcane processes and generating controlled constant explosive reactions. Heh. There was something about people's faces when they realize I'm reclining on and in a freaking umbral blot - a blackball - a living, over-sized sphere of annihilation construct from before the current crop of gods, that gives people a moment of pause. Of reflection. Of thinking "do I really need to talk to this... 'person'? Would my life be better served by walking away very quickly and quietly, right now?" There was a massive reduction in meeting requests, sales pitches, offers of marriage and more when I first showed up with Spot. (The score points hit was significant for that particular bit of madness, but migrating factors helped reduce it a lot.) I know others might not think it, but I really believe that the blackball was a step up from the tarrasque. Even after I awakened Rasq, his size was a bit overwhelming. After all, its not like he can fit into the living room or such.

I mean seriously. Picture any massive monster of destruction and stick a medium sized humanoid on them. Got it? Now... What do you focus on? The big ass scary monster or the humanoid? Sure, after they rain down meteors with a wave of fire-shrouded hands or mentally fling around buildings surrounded by streamers of crackling psionic energy you might pay attention (if you weren't, you know, dead...), but I'd prefer to make first impressions count. Hence - umbral blot! Well. Spot is actually a lot more than that, but that is a story in itself.

My view pans across the landscape some more.

My group! As I don't give myself any experience split with them, they don't have the penalty for being with a higher level character - myself - and get a goodly chunk. Far more rapid advancement than this reality hands out, constantly. They are, in a word, broken. Broken as in overpowered, not the broken broken. Though... Some of them do come close. All of them? Um. Never mind, carry on... The most overpowered ones are in the city-state or Sphere, overseeing the defences against everything that is going wrong with this multi-verse. I've been hoping for a break, somehow, and maybe this swarm of bad-breathed over-sized lizards have a reason for this insanity that would actually be of benefit for me. Or would that be too much to expect. If it all started because some red dragon stole a golden cup from a silver dragon or some other nonsense like that, I am going to get angry. Angry as in "Hulk SMASH!" and screw the point loss. Seriously.

See Spot run. See dragons fly. Die, dragons, die!

I start a background processing routine of identification and observation of the battlefield. A grid overlays my vision, with minor details popping up in squares. The "Loading..." progress bar has stalled out. Of course, I need to actually unpause in order for that to work properly. Thought-sigh. I'll just go for basic details and save the full Observation for later. That's better.

In my corner are a few carefully cultivated epic heroes and their mounts. Hello Rasq! He is almost directly beneath me, just a bit behind. Though at this time I'm unsure whether to count Rasq as a mount or full-on companion. Still, its hard to beat having the tarrasque on your side. You would not believe the cost of integrated armour to get full coverage over giant monsters. Its simply insane! Well, if siege crabs and warforged can do it, why not, right? It helps plenty to have a friendly Solar who likes abusing thought bottles and wish. And yes, that advanced paragon Solar is one of the more powerful ones. To give you an idea of the state of this multi-verse, she is hiding out in my Planar Sphere. Offering very strongly convincing therapy for the messed up beings I have collected in my time here. She needed help first, of course. Incurable persistent recurring divine-sourced insanity, alcoholism, depression, paranoia, and constant streams of quaruts. The last ones haven't stopped. The others... are managed. Nowadays not a week can go by without seeing (and killing) almost every single type of inevitable, with zelekhuts, maruts, and varakhuts as well all showing up. The only kolyarut, however, is Obligatum Infini, who is here now, with me. He gets to take care of the other kolyaruts.

I remember a few old faces from my time with old grey-skinned scarry mister dreadlocks himself, as well as some more from this era, and the ones from all the different eras and landscapes that have gotten smashed up together since this all began.

My group here is a medium-term developed combo assault squad and re-hab-by-brutal-combat program. Truthfully, I don't need to pay a great amount of attention to preserving anybody else in these fights anymore - in a world full of wish and true resurrection spells, things aren't that bad. Except when they are worse. However, they don't have Gamer's Mind and I'd much rather subtly influence them in positive ways than do the whole evil mastermind manipulator schick. I mean - I've done it, its great, don't get me wrong. Its just... Millions of undead, abominations, monsters... And that was yesterday. Okay okay, I'm kidding for dramatic effect. Still. Some days this landscape looks more suited to the Imperium of Man right in the middle of a Chaos invasion than anywhere else. I'll probably go there for stress relief after this is all done. Or maybe clear out a hell dimension again?

Behind me, to my left, is Caira, family name Xasten. Bit of a bard, bit of a rogue, lot of an ur-priest. Her story in a nutshell: lover killed by a meteor, blamed the gods, tried to summon an undead moonlet sized entity of absolute planetary genocide, met me... Got better. And. Um. The Solar helped, not going to remove her credit at all. The spirit of her dead lover as well. I... brought them together? Yes. Thought-cough. Caira reminds me of me - the original me me - just a little bit. That fact probably saved her life, and her soul. She is an ur-priest, after all. That doesn't mean much now - a goodly chunk of the gods are insane, dead, hiding, fighting or cut off from the prime material worlds - but it was a big deal when she started. She is actually good now! Imagine that - a neutral good ur-priest! Started a ur-religion, with her little ur-priest buddies, in their little ur-church in my ur-city-state... Stopping now.

Note to self: remind the ur-priests, yet again, that I am not a goddess. I'll still supply them with divine energy amulets if they ask for it nicely, following the usual safety and security concerns and all that. Is it a lost cause?

Caira looks a lot better now. The whole 'madness and corruption' thing she was doing did not look good at all. Her black hair is tied back, bound by a equally black ribbon, leaving her still pale face open to the elements. Well, whatever elements that can get past all the various shields around her. Preferring form fitting clothing, she is looking great in a full body, very skin tight set of thin, lightweight, black leather armour. It is one of those combination bustier getups, but at least this time she isn't showing off her cleavage. I'm still making money from the sales of push-up underwire underwear! With calf-high boots with high heels. Seriously. Keeping the spirit of her lover with her has done wonders for her confidence, but some times I question whether it is going to swing to the other extreme. Um. I'll deal with that when it happens, otherwise I'm not going to bother worrying about it. A flash of yellow at her throat, colour matching that of my robe, is a new addition. I'm unsure whether it is a genuine duplication attempt or just a style thing. Maybe both? I'll have to ask her after all this, assuming it is not soaked in blood or mixed in with her mangled corpse or something.

...

Thought-cough.

She is on top of Lady Luna - she really hates that nickname! - a lunar outer dragon who Caira helped convince to help us while we were in deep space, trying to jury-rig the Spelljammer itself for a last ditch greater teleportation effect. Before the bombs set off on mister ugly moon-face. While ancient dragons are impressive, the only thing I can really think of is how 'ancient' simply means anywhere from two to four hundred years before they reach their full, great wyrm power. Maybe I can convince her to hang out in an enchanted sleep in a super rapid time morphic demiplane or something? If you think that having Luna 'on board' made things all sunshine and roses you would be gravely disappointed. Because, you see, Caira is the one who summoned the moonlet in the first place - the interstellar, interplanar object of mass undead-based destruction that smashed its way through many lesser spelljammer craft, assorted deep space beings and various outer dragons. Who Lady Luna herself had to put down, in their undead shapes.

We weren't stupid enough to leave the remains of the dragons there, of course. All of them were stored on the Spelljammer and brought back to the city-state. Even though Luna was upset - yes, she was upset - an emergency meeting of myself, our resident awesome Solar, magical representations of other outer dragons, and a few others managed to convince her to not go and get every outer dragon she could to come and raze our city. Try. I felt good about that - no need to destroy her mind or commit multi-species genocide (again!), crisis averted. We all ended up with a win-win for everyone involved, with promises on our side to resurrect all the slain outer dragons as well as attempt to convert one of each type to a paragon. Seeing as the Solar was the only paragon I've seen since I've came to this multi-verse, it might be a bit tricky. Still - epic magic, unlimited wish and thought bottles should solve that problem. I keep on repeating it because I love it so! Did I mention that I'm effectively immune to epic spell backlash damage and can supply essentially unlimited spell slots? Very handy, once I got the skills up enough for them to be really useful on a day to day basis. Crawler's powers are the gift that keeps on giving. Just need more time. Things have been very hectic.

On her side, there was a promise of being a mount and companion for four hundred personal subjective years for Caira, or others, as necessity demands. She was smart enough to emphasize the subjective part, I think she knew about my daydreams to lock her in a time-boosted demiplane. Additionally, I get personal access to various outer dragons and all their nifty powers for research, copying, and - with their approval! - upgrading. The outer dragons, as a collection of loose, informal, deep space and inter-planar species get around and their services will be - and are - very helpful. I'm expecting a lot more positive bias on my barters with them once the very planar-universe barriers start to collapse, though. They have already pulled in a few odd spelljammer craft and directed us all to points of interest. So much to do, so little time! With multiple infinite wish generators pretty much in my pocket, I sometimes feel like I'm trading a country for a few glass beads. Then I remember the whole multi-verse destroying cascade happening and get over it rather quickly.

They both seem to be getting on well together lately. Good for them!

Luna is a beautiful creature, exotic in a sort of bearded wingless-but-has-wings dragon style, but with more expertly arrayed spikes and a colour theme of purples and blues. She is almost like a giant, living, organic jewel. Since my entire life is a constant stream of screen shots and recordings, I've managed to expertly create a scaled down model of her as a gift to our draconic visitor. I think she liked it, especially so when I put "Lady Luna" on the name plate and did not get even the slightest sniff of disapproval in regards to anything for over a week. Can't help but worry how this whole dragon massacre thing is going to hit her. Probably no worse than any person going to fight in an overwhelming potentially suicidal war against an army of their own species that are all insane with blood-lust? Hrm. Some words of encouragement are definitely recommended, at the very least.

To my left, also behind me, is Obligatum, hexblade and occult slayer. Obligatum Infini, thank you very much. He'll remind anyone who asks about his name - he will endure, and will not be just another throwaway number to crack open the crystal shell of Pandorym. Good thing too, since Pandorym has already been rendered into a form impossible to crack. Remember Spot? Yeah... Long story. Complicated. Check the logs! I've talked to Oby (yet another nickname I've inflicted upon my close associates) - no relation to Obi-Wan, that was earlier and in another universe - about us going to Mechanus and telling them that the reason for sending the Obligatum versions no longer exists. However, Oby wants the reverse - he'd rather have them come more often, as he gets some sort of inner satisfaction with shattering them to pieces. I know he doesn't really have prominent facial expressions, but I just get a strong vibe from him - confirmed by Observe - that he glories in how much more powerful he is over them, even when every one sent is better than the previous. At this point, we are both curious about how strong they can possibly get, and the Solar - for all her antipathy towards constructs - is also interested. I think there is some sort of betting pool going on in among the city-states' rank and file, along the lines of when the next one will come and how many seconds it will take for Oby to end it. At least it is a great supply of parts for his personal projects. The Solar is not sharing her parts, at least.

I'll admit that I had to mess with Oby to get him to wake up, or break out, or go insane, or however you want to call it, but the results have been worth it. I've asked him repeatedly after I admitted it to him - the various streams of guano I coated the truth I fed him - and he thanked me for it, after I fixed his sword and hands. Which were broken due to the savage attack he was trying to deliver to me. I could have stopped his sword and hands without damaging them, but think he needed to get it out of his system. At least he did not want to return to that prior state. Oby compared it to now, with then being in a sort of dumb, drugged stupor. Which, though it may bring some sort of happiness or contentment, does not make for a complete and fulfilling life. He is on a journey of self discovery, pseudo-cannibalism, surgery and slaughter right now, and seems to be enjoying it. I'm happy to support him. As well as bash in people's heads who bring up the whole Pandorym thing.

Obligatum is - or was - a proper kolyarut. He would appear as a humanoid construct of silver and steel colouring, but is currently entombed in his custom designed clockwork armour. Shining with the silver-white gleam of mithril, the various spinning gears and features on the surface do nothing to detract from its protective qualities and serve to add distinctive character to the design. I'm sure he made them on the exterior on purpose, just to thumb his non-existent nose at me and my whining about integrated armour. His armour serves its protective features admirably, and also somehow incorporates and uses the magical equipment slots of other spaces on his body. Some sort of magical dissonance thing in this universe limits people's magic item use. Pfft, not on me, at least. Even if I don't use many magic items. There should be some sort of quick release or pull back of the gauntlets which allows him to use his vampiric touch power. Or does it work through them? Observe. Yes, it does. As far as other clothing goes, he is still attached to suitably dramatic cloaks. At least they have all been substantially enchanted! This one is a deep red with silver trim, to match his armour. Found one on him as well: a yellow band of embossed metal around his throat, the same shade as my robe, and nearly the exact same spot that Caira has it.

He has two other main personal projects, along with some others I'm unsure about. The first one is his bonded weapon, a sentient item familiar that has a few self-transforming features. What was its name again? I don't want to check the logs. Argh. Whatever. Without going into all of its features - after all, unlimited wishes go a long, long way - the highlights include everdancing in the melee form of a long sword, and a heavy-looking, light weight, one-handed auto-loading crossbow form with auto-generated, anti-magic greater slaying bolts. I'm glad that it is an item familiar, as compared to just a regular sentient item, as those usually have the most annoying egos ever. He really keeps up the anti-magic angle with these enchantments.

Oby is riding on his second major official project, in what looks like a quick-release battle harness. It is attached to a clockwork dragon that has gone through various iterations. I've named it Gearfang! Oby was not impressed. I'm not particularly concerned about the current version or the amount he has built already - it is his free wish-made money, after all - but the current one seems like a keeper. This is the first version where he has fused and incorporated masses of gearghosts into the structure, as well as finally giving in to my whining on getting a full-on integrated armour plating for the exterior. Given those features, it shares the auto-resurrecting nature of gearghosts, self-repairs rather quickly, and functions rather well as a nimble, speedy mobile flying weapon platform. While not on the same power scale as the terrasque, Rasq is happy to destroy Gearfang in the name of science, with each battle adding to the notes and plans of Oby and adding a few more seconds to the process. I think he is aiming for some sort of siege weapon capabilities, robotic shape transformation or both. Either way, exciting times!

The clockwork dragon has the same look as his armour, the silver-white of mithril. The difference being this time is that the changes were not just superficial - I believe that this is the first version that is one hundred percent pure mithril, down to the smallest spoke and gear, with even the wing fabric being made of extremely tight, thin and fine metal wire. It makes for an impressive, if uniform coloured, creature. Red and gold paint, highlights and colouring break up the sameness. Yes, even there is yet another band of yellow metal around the dragon's neck.

Okay, now I'm really interested. There is no way Luna would do that as well, right? Not my favourite blue-and-purple dragon on this planet?! Checking... Nope, thank goodness!

...

Thought too soon. Its a bit hard to see, but there is a sort of combination adamantine chain-mail filigree armoured pseudo-gorget around her neck, with - you guessed it! - yellow gold highlights mixed in with a very, very generous scattering of yellow... Diamonds? All of them match the yellow of my robe. Wow. Ciara really one-upped that sculpture I sent the dragon. Maybe I'm looking at the reason Luna seems a lot more chipper with her lately. If that thing is not stuffed with epic level magic enhancements, I'll be very surprised. It will be the breaking of the damn for Luna! Soon, soon I'll have her wearing integrated armour as well! I really need to stop complaining about the costs of giant monster armour if I keep on pushing it. Just a quick check of my logs - did Ciara ever mention this to me? Hmm. Yes. Standard mix of magic armour, scores of meta-breath enhancements, flight maneuverability boosts... Pretty impressive, actually. I think those four are competing with each other! Helpful, as long as they keep it positive. Though they have to, considering that Rasq is already quite a few steps ahead of them - all competitions there are of the "increase death time by seconds" variety, and one that Luna does not want to work at. Even though we have tons of resurrection options. Her choice, of course. Vorpal claw and teeth enhancements... Do it!

Speaking of Rasq, again. The big guy! Oh man, is he the monster's monster or what?! He exults in carnage and welcomes every single upgrade that will boost his combat effectiveness. Grunt would shit his pants. Or get... Excited. Or both? Eww. It is simply insane the amount of enhancements I've put in, on, and around him. I haven't stopped for a single day since he joined! Let's start with the big details. He is about seventy feet long and fifty feet tall - comparable to a overly large, somewhat rectangular house - and weighs anywhere from ten to two hundred tons. Dynamic and mind controlled weight adjustment magic rocks. A happy Rasq is a mountain jumping Rasq! His armour - his carapace - continues its 'no sell' on all rays, lines, cones and magic missile spells, with the reflection index now raised to about forty percent, and rammed full of a ridiculous number of enhancements. Through some hand-waving in the direction of normal reality, I've managed to get his natural body armour to function as integrated body armour, shields and weapons! If there wasn't an option to disable 'friendly fire' in the group menu, I'd have been very concerned. As it is, just one more thing that contributes to me making the "I'm not a goddess... Yet!" spiel more and more often.

Sometimes I just get so excited I run around him screaming "Yayyyyy!" at the top of my lungs until I collapse against his side in joyful torpor. A few observers saw it once and thought that it was part of an arcane rite or ritual and it cropped up around the city-state. Around big creatures in general, not Rasq I mean. I don't mind children doing it - more power to them, they are all lucky to be alive right now - but adults? It's just embarrassing. Rather than forbid it - everyone knows where that particular act will lead! - I have a few snide officers with their kids have a chat with the people involved. Nothing like a three year old repeatedly telling an adult how stupid they are to change opinions in short order. That little fad faded rather quickly.

So. Armour. I am not even going to try to list the attributes there. Suffice to say, that if there are any armour, shield or even weapon enhancements that make any sort of sense what-so-ever to have on a giant monster, they are there. His armour is like a black hole towards gold coins, seriously. Thought-cough. ...I skipped doing that enchantment. I was convinced. It took... convincing. One day! Epic magic, unlimited wishes and thought bottles, I know you can't love me back - but its okay. There are even a few spots on his back designed for safe resting - silence, dim-able lights, variable temperature, cozy scales, shock eliminating absorbers, safety anchoring effects with seat-belt-like crash webbing and more - the works. I've used it quite a few times, and so has a number of my compatriots. Me and Rasq try to generally keep it quiet about those spots and that they can be changed, for security's sake.

Going on to the reason for the tarrasque's high placement in the crap-your-pants category, we get to his regeneration. Specifically, his upgraded and improved regeneration. Wish and miracle to make him dead? I no sell you now! Instead, any of those cast his way automatically bring him back to full life and health. Epic spell stowaway, jail broken for range and modified effects. The benefits of grouping with a Gamer are so OP! And oh boy oh boy... THIS is where things get really crazy. You see, there is one known being in this multi-verse - so far, I've probably missed quite a few - that has greater regeneration than the tarrasque. The Elder Evil, Zargon the Returner. Or - as the city-state knows him - Rasq's chew toy. You see, with some rather inventive epic magic, consultations, frenzied hand waving (and possibly heavy petting) in the direction of normal reality, I've managed to make the Zargon's freaking horn of auto-resurrection into an equippable item for Rasq! Quite a few of the Zargon's powers carried over as well, in reduced form. There is a bit of a backlash effect - it does qualify as an evil major artifact, after all - and about a day of painful adjustment with both installing and removing it, but... Wow. It works. Using it, Rasq gets a lot less than a minute for tarrasque version awesome to go from sorta-death to full health, and the horn and his regen both stack together preventing absolute death or destruction effects. Even when hit by Spot, the only thing that happens is a really violent throw-back, and him being all smashed up. Only with the artifact in, of course - Rasq tried it once before without and I had to do the whole complicated resurrection tango with him. He was a sulky little monster of mass destruction after that. I'm sure that a few of my significant Gamer powers helped with this: grouping, Escalation, Practice Effect, and even Social Links. He is one of the few beings I'm not secretly, deeply afraid of accidentally destroying the body, soul and existence of in an instance of irritation.

I also made him able to purr. Don't ask why. It felt right! Giant purring monsters are awesome!

I considered tail wagging, but... No. Too high a potential for destruction.

And laser beams! Well. Here they would be called fire and force destruction ray effects. But still. With those two big horns jutting forward from his neck and skull? Yes - my tarrasque has two fricking laser beams on his head. Called it! If somebody does not run around Rasq screaming in joy, I'd be really surprised. Except. Um. Enemies. Yes, that would make sense if they were running away. They are omni-directional, tracking lasers. So cool! All the other mega-monsters get jealous (or die...) when he uses them.

Thought-sigh. I'm not even surprised right now. Because - of course! - there is a massive band of yellow dragonskin armour - done scale-mail style - around Rasq's neck. A spiked collar. Really. Yes, it does say "Rasq - The Tarrasque" on a giant name plate at the bottom. Of course it is enchanted. I bet if I ask him about it, Rasq will just grin and smile at me and stay silent. Bah.

...

Okay. Enough gushing. Bit more summarizing. Grab, swallow and rapidly digest lesser creatures? Check. Super jumping assisted by weight modification magic? Check. Sprint in an awesomely scarily yet perfectly adorable way? Inspire terror by his charges and attacks? Cleave, squish and destroy anything in reach after another aforementioned cleave, squish or act of destruction? Use his keen vorpal claws, teeth, and spikes for joyous gibbing and chunky salsa making? Be the tankiest tank to ever be called Rasq? Be more polite and better looking than Lobo even with the horn of an Elder Evil implanted in your skull? Yes. Check. To all of them. I'm... Not going to expand on that last bit. Thought-cough.

If ANYTHING dares to destroy his existence, they are so dead. They are ret-gone dead. They are De Mat Gun dead. The Speaking Gun dead. Mystic Eyes of Death Perception dead. Balefire dead! ...Should undo it... Reality Bomb level dead? Or maybe I'd just turn them into some sort of eternal icon of eternal pain and suffering? Choices... Karma. My karma - my real karma is also tracked in stats. Argh. Its not pretty. I'm working on it!

...

I need a Rasq stuffed doll. Not to scale, obviously. Maybe just a bit bigger than me? Do they even make stuffed dolls in this multi-verse? Well, I know where one of my wishes are going.

...

I wonder if he'd like A'tuin? Bit of a size gap, though.

...

Yes, the Kaiju Mogaru is bigger, and bipedal to boot. But Rasq was first! We have Mogaru doing patrols away from the city state, as he is... Not a people person. Not like Rasq!

...

Enough woolgathering. Time for more analysis of my ever terror-loveable tarrasque. Already gone over the general details, powers and... What's left? Aha. How mister spikey-awesome looks. Simplest approximation is to start with a t-rex and slim down the legs, and making the arms equal in capacity. From there, coat the back of his body with an extra layer of scaly shell-bones, starting with two absolutely massive spikes that jut from the back of his neck past the front of his face - that fire fricking laser beams! - and continue with spikes down his back to the tail. Colouration is a mix of light earth-toned orange-red, with a paler beige like pattern coating his underbody - neck, torso, arms, legs and tail. The claws on his arms and legs have a more metallic tinge, while his fangs are more like beige or off-white bones, depending on what he ate.

It was so worth it to use an epic spell to give him great smelling breath and auto-clean-and-repairing teeth and claws. Lilacs. Go figure. I've created a world where the smell of a tiny flower with a short seasonal lifespan is associated with a mythological monster. What's next - associating red coloured fruit with death effects? Nevermind, that was done already.

One last detail is his breath weapon. Well, not really a breath weapon, but what do you call the ability to direct roars that are so loud that buildings shatter, explode and coast on a shockwave of debris? It is very good for widespread devastation, not so good for subtle. Again, I thank group options to disable 'friendly fire'. The reverse of his roar is a powerful inbreath, which sucks in nearby creatures in front of him. I think Rasq was trying to imitate Spot there. Good try at least. No, silly monster - you can't be Godzilla Sue! Well. Not yet...

How many wishes would it take to make him fully bipedal and equipped with a sword and shield?! He can be the brave monster-knight, rescuing me from the tower where I've been trapped by the boring paladins of lawful good boredom! Riding Mogaru! Um. Hmm.

...

How is that visual grid doing? I see lots of red, bold red names, and a few gold ones. This is concerning.

...

Riding Rasq - if you could call balancing on your pinkie tip on the tip of a bloody vorpal horn 'riding' - is Irthicax Vane, a (now) lawful neutral zenythri monk. He has cleaned up a lot since his ordeal with an Elder Evil, although Ragnorra is still doing her thing. The world needs cannon fodder and she provides nicely. Vane is a bit of a special case. Well, they all are so... Nevermind. Initially, he had a mild willing deformity while under the 'influence' of Ragnorra - his lips were replaced with tiny flute-like creatures. I said they gotta go, and he got rid of them. But. But! He asked for an exchange. Now, with the assistance of myself, the Solar, some others and our usual assortment of brokenly overpowered magics, Vane has two distinct forms. The first one is native to his race, a perfectly built, monk-trained toned, purple haired and skinned, medium sized humanoid. The other is equally purple, but that is where the resemblance ends.

Enter the pseudonatural creature qualities, a mass of muscled tentacles. Thankfully, our beating reality to a pulp allowed for a modified, optimized form of the pseudonatural attributes instead of the usual icky mass that those beings have. Add in some specifics from various other aberrations - epic spells help! - and he has quite the optimized uber-monk build rocking the extra flexible tentacle limbs. I'll just add that his monk-like discipline is not based on celibacy, and heard that some alienists and others have been really friendly with him lately. Welp. It keeps him happy, and keeps the alienists from summoning yet more insane twisted monsters into this world. Enough of that happening already. Every bonus - apart from the actual tentacles themselves - carry over to his humanoid form. One of the more notable ones is the ability to deal nonlethal damage by choice in any of his attacks.

Might have been fleshwarpers in the Vane fan club too.

In a fit of what I call utter insanity, he has also sworn himself into voluntary poverty - which does include integrated armour, or so he tells me - and given up the use and ownership of magic items, wealth, and everything but the most simple clothing. Not even regenerating, self-repairing and cleaning clothing! Still, it does mean something in this universe, and I'm glad that it was picked by a monk, rather than by a fighter or - worse yet - a wizard! So, in his case, it means he gets to wear a set of cheap, purple-dyed second hand vest and pants, with a rope belt and a... Yellow dish-towel around his neck? Wow. Well, full points for solidarity there, Vane. I'm assuming he either stores the clothes somewhere or gets spares from Ciara, as exploding into a tentacle monster is usually not good on fragile, mundane clothing. I'm just grateful he doesn't go so far as refuse a room, but it must be a shared one. Due to the nature of spaces and organization in the city-state, that usually means he is bedding down on either Rasq's back - I convinced him that just sharing the room was ridiculous and I'm not letting anyone else sleep up there - or hopefully converting alienists to more positive outlooks on normal life through his acts of piety. Or tentacles. Whatever works!

...

Visual grid all done? Lets see whats what.

I pan the my view across the horizon, taking in the all the minor details. For a few minutes - still paused, so they don't count - I'm silent. Then...

Shit. There are dragon gods here. And are those... F...?!

- Index / 1.1 - The First Second / 1.2 - The First Second -

A/N: Enjoy! :)

Last edited: Sep 3, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 2, 2015

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Threadmarks 1.2) The First Second

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 2, 2015

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- 1.1 - The First Second / 1.2 - The First Second / 2.1 - The First Minutes -

1.2 - The First Second Is Very Long

Place: City-State Wastelands.

Position: Still hovering in the air.

Mood: Very excited!

Time: Still same frozen second!

Shit. There are dragon gods here. And are those... Floating cities?!

...

Netherese floating cities?! The magocracy of Netheril! YES!

This is huge. Floating cities - and Netheril - mean lots of things. Right at the top of it are mythallars, mythals and the Nether Scrolls. The latter means... Well, I'll save it till I get my hands of them. If? When! Not like I can cast regular magic, anyways. Have to do things in a roundabout way. Both of the first two combined means that I can get my entire city-state magicked up the gills and provide tons of protective, security, offence and utility options, as well as quasi-magical items. Since there are floating cities, it means that it would have to be before Karsus's Folly in -339 DR. But how far before then, I don't know. It could be any moment from the Folly itself to the early years of city-raising, as there is at least... How many floating cities here? A few dozen. Well... Left. Some have already crashed. Ouch. Has to be the Golden Age, then. Or at least some time after it, between -2207 DR and -339 DR.

Crashed cities equal spirits going to the celestial and infernal realms here, giving demons, devils and insane angels the abilities to create mythallars and mythals themselves. If any gods came along with this ride, things can get more crazy. Level ten spells again? Stronger magic? Permanent wild magic? Its an unknown. Got to make sure to not kill any gods of magic I come across. Or rescue them if they are captured. Or go insane. Dammit. If anybody ever asks "but why do you need to abuse wish, epic magic and thought bottles, you cheating cheat cheater?" I'll just point to the bloody swarm of over a thousand - no, almost ten thousand! - dragons and a mass of dragon gods, some even from different prime material planes, and YES that IS including Bahomet and Tiamet, thank-you-very-much. I don't think that words will be necessary at that point. Except maybe "I want to cheat harder! Gimme gimme mythals and mythallers!" That means that the bloody plane of Law is going to get on my case as well once I kick up the magic abuse even further... Joy, a modron march or two. Or hundred. We'll roll out the red carpet bombings.

...

If the Solar is any example to follow by, all those dragon gods' humanoid followers might also be insane. That could be bad.

...

Say hello to my awesome pause button. Pause button, reality. Reality, pause button. I'm glad you two are getting along so well!

...

This is weird. Well, weirder than normal. And normal is... This? Nevermind. To have transplants from the past like this means that not only is time and space being twisted, there are alternate time-lines and planes being merged. I can't trust the history notes that I've scanned in anymore. Think of them as a loose guideline only. There might be a rain of demi-liches tomorrow, or some other twisted nonsense happening.

I check the skies, just to make sure. Zoom in a bit. Okay, no signs of raining demi-liches. Now, at least. Be prepared! Anti-demi-lich rain defences!

...

Or would that be hail? Hmm.

...

This all also means - if I can grok these planar space-time mergings right - that other things from that era are coming in. Phaerimm and the sharn being the heavy hitters. No idea whether they will sink or swim in this chaos, but either way they will have to be one more thing to deal with. If armies of those things fall under the now unbalanced Blood War... I'll have to research and review for the little league hitters. Dammit dammit! I need more time, more manpower, more population, more EVERYTHING! SIBBY! SHADOW! Lets just WIPE this bloody multi-verse off the face of existence and...

...

Calm down. Yeah. Another Gamer's Mind activation. Not a surprise. Just remember, Taylor, that you have options. No need to open those doors just yet. Options that did not exist back in the days before Respawn, or Power Dampening, or Infinite Energy Absorption, or the Words of God, or Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, or... Hmm. New quest update. Must have triggered due to my thought processes.

I mentally tap the message.

Quest: Save the Netherese floating cities!

Time Limit: Expires when the last city crashes.

Rewards: Scales with amount of cities and population left. Includes mythallars and mythals!

Notes: ...

Then dismiss the screen.

Well, it's nice to get confirmation like that. So, priorities. Defeat or drive away the dragons and their gods. I don't know if this insanity effect is a temporary thing or what. I'll have to find that out up close. Save as many of the floating cities as possible. Keep my own city-state intact. I thought-frown at it in the distance. Survive, and make sure - at least! - that my companions are not targeted by dragon gods. Regular death is fine, but annoying. God-sourced death? That is... Complicated. I know the steps to recreate destroyed souls, bodies, and grant even those sad people a new life, but it is not recommended. At all.

Future priorities include dealing with the information leaks caused by the Netherese dying, the living being sucked in by the devil portals, and the phaerimm, sharn and related critters.

...

I'm going to have to get serious. More point reductions likely. Hope not too many.

Alright. Plans. First step: get Lady Luna the hell away from here, pronto, NOW, yesterday. She is going to object, so have your arguments ready. She says that she doesn't want to die and be raised? Fine, prove it by not being here and dying.

Second, see if Spot is free. I don't know how tightly integrated he is into the city-state's defence grid right this moment, but if he could be spared it would be helpful. Especially with regards to the crystalline greatsword it is bound into. Same thing with my other companions - anyone else free? If they are out in this insane melee, I'm going to kill them. And raise them. Again. I kid! Maybe...

Third, tell my companions to go batshit crazy. There is a time and place for restraint, and this is not it. Any sort of expendable items or charges they have - short of major artifacts - are cleared and authorized for use. I'll be around to provide recharges of whatever sorts are needed. Rapid teleport really helps.

I think Oni Lee could take Nightcrawler. No contest.

Specifically, Ciara is to transfer over to Rasq. I'd have preferred to keep her flying, but the anti-magic properties of that clockwork dragon - even though she is using divine spells! - will be interfering. This sucks. Okay. She'll be spamming mass death and crowd control spells and hiding out in the security nooks. Don't have to worry about Rasq at all. Oby will be providing interference, using Rasq as a mobile wall as required. They will need to co-ordinate to best block swarming and breath attacks. This is going to be a serious stress test of the regenerating powers of that mithril dragon. Rasq's has already been tested plenty of times. He'll need to land and anchor on Rasq a few times - the giant jump should be enough to get through most swarm clusters.

For openers, I'll use the big guy. We'll have to do that thing again - he can take it. Even though we only tested it once so far and have yet to give a name to it. He'll have the support of Ciara and Oby, while Vane can do his tentacle dance of monk death. Which isn't actually a dance, but does involve tentacles, death, and jumping around like a pinball in one of Uber & Leet's tinkertech pinball machines, on top of particles of dust in the air. Monks. I mean... I can do it too, but... He is a mortal. Mortal mortal. Isn't that overpowering? Getting just the tiniest bit close to an Exalt, there, Vane.

...

I ponder this, with suitable background music playing.

Spoiler: Kung Fu Fighting (Kung Fu Panda soundtrack)

...

Yes, it is overpowering, and I'm glad of it. Even though Vane is the only one of us all without any actual armour, he is the most likely to survive all this - barring actual dragon god intervention. Other than me and Rasq, of course. Though wait a second - don't monks become an outsider at some point? I think he already hit that. And with the pseudonatural qualities... Hmm. I'll really have to sell Ciara on some more drastic improvements after all this. Baseline humans! What am I thinking! Maybe she wants to become a half-something-or-other? And Oby. Need to find out what his long-term plans are.

How far do I want to escalate in this? How much am I going to weigh points over lives? Or vice versa. Lets start with the most extreme. Perma-death for everyone? Nope. Perma-death for all the dragons? Rather not. Regular death for all the dragons? Do-able. Unhealable injuries for all the dragons? Reasonable.

How much losses am I willing to take? Hmm.

I check out the logs based on priorities.

Not much, really. There has to be at least a few flying cities still in the air. Absolute minimum is about five or six. While it would be nice to have some dragon gods alive, they can all die without without troubling my sleep. I'll make sure to rip out their divine sparks before they go. My divinity maturation quest completion deadline is still many, many years off and extra bonus points help. Also would be ideal to have breeding pairs of each dragon alive, but again - that depends on whether the insanity that is being demonstrated is curable or not. If it is anything like the Solar's, well... Death solves all life's ills. But makes poor tea. And has bad interior design skills. Thought-cough. I'll take bite-chunks out of every dragon, just in case there is some power I missed copying. The digestion process, while abysmally slow, is a last resort - but it sure beats missing the opportunity to nab those powers. Decades. Centuries. Argh.

Oh.

Just remembered! That is a really good set of enchantments there. On my back, I have a dragon egg encased in a protective metal shell with reams of invisible, weightlessness, fading, blurring, unnoticeable, and more enhancing it. Feeds off of and blends with my aura as well. Pushing the boundaries of what a minor artifact could be defined as. I call it Eggy. I even got it to join my group, using some creative egg-rocking and carefully placed acceptance window prompts. Part of yet another reality hand-waving set of experiments (and we are seriously getting past the heavy petting stage these days... If I ever run into an anthropomorphic personification of an universe, I'll take it on a date or something. And pay the bill!), I have 'obtained' a living dragon egg from within a positive set of circumstances. Don't want the drama associated with stealing an egg. It was a fair exchange. This egg was then placed - no, sealed - inside a specially designed immaturity, life supporting and evolving containment system. Sphere's skills have upgraded very nicely over the centuries.

What that actually means is that I have a dragon egg that will not be ready to hatch for an abnormally long length of time, that will require an immense degree of power to escape from, and a method whereby the proto-dragon can be enhanced. Namely, having the nearly still living blood or tissues of another dragon, drake, lizard or anything remotely associated with dragons come into contact with the egg encasement. This has two major effects. The first is the prolonging of pre-hatching stage of proto-dragon. The second is prolonging the entire life of the to-be-hatched dragon, with the added powers becoming one more step - or rung - on an increasingly massive and convoluted development path. I will be the proud mother - well, foster mother, I guess - of the largest, fastest, most powerful dragon in existence. Ever. Kinda sucks that it still won't be able to catch up to me. Even on size. I'm catching up to you, A'tuin! Head rubs for the cutest super-giant turtle in all the multi-verses!

I absolutely refuse to put Eggy into my inventory, as I do not want to absorb the body, mind and soul of yet another friend, family member, captured soul, split personality or cute little critter. It has to stay out. Remember!

...

I'm looking forward to the baby pictures and photo albums. Embarrassing all his (or her?) fellow cutesy monsters of mass destruction, with comments like "...and this gem was when he first accidentally caused a tsunami. We had to spend days mass resurrecting the coastline villages and casting area-of-repair spells. Remember big guys - gas and burps get released into space, not the atmosphere and especially not underwater, okay?"

...

Alight... Combat.

I'll start out with the heavy hitter - Mystic Eyes of Death Perception - but aim to maim. A single permanently removed wing from dragons tends to put the fight - and flight! - out of them. Use Power Dampening to ease things out... Some speed acceleration. I'll plan on the robe being my weapon of choice and...

...

Thought-sigh.

Revision of plans. Sending Lady Luna outside of my aura for any reason in range of insane dragon gods is a very bad idea. She'll have to be my mount. I'll be slowed down! Dammit. Unless...

...

Almost ready to un-pause! Maybe I should watch a movie or two to relax? Hrm.

...

Alright, that is it. Comedy movies really do lose something when you can't laugh. Or move. Last check of the battle plans! Sending out party chat messages and...

Un-pause.

- 1.1 - The First Second / 1.2 - The First Second / 2.1 - The First Minutes -

A/N: very short mini-part.

Last edited: Sep 3, 2015

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Sep 3, 2015

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#10

- 1.2 - The First Second / 2.1 - The First Minutes / 2.2 - The First Minutes -

2.1 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: City-State Wastelands.

Position: Flying.

Mood: Pumped!

Time: Moving!

Un-pause.

I blink, and pull up the group chat display as I head towards the back of Rasq's head. Thoughts enter commands into the prompts, faster than normal people can talk or think.

[Elite: Group party name has been changed to Dragonslayers]

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Formal battle mode communications now. New standing orders people! As usual, private message me for clarification. Leave group chat alone except for priority messages and acknowledgements. No penalties, but we are about to go into a massive, massive battle here!]

This form of communication was a lot easier with the hand wavium of explaining it as a combination of dabus' visual speech and psionics.

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Please confirm all these as you receive them. Rasq - get settled down and prepare for that thing. I expect near critical pressure as soon as possible. I'll be by your neck very shortly.]

[Dragonslayers: Rasq: Got it, T. Started.]

Rasq anchors himself into the ground, digging with his massive claws through dirt, sediment and stone with little effort. It takes him but a few brief moments to create a suitable space for himself, and I see - without even needing to rely on Observe - the brief bit of relaxation that occurs once he is done.

I continue to descend towards Rasq, heading down at an incline towards his neck. Messages are flowing back and forth.

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Everybody else start to gather and anchor near the base of Rasq's tail, topside. Find a safety spot and anchor securely. I know we have the friendly fire damage effect nullified, but everyone should prepare their highest level sonic, wind, fire, force and shock-wave defences. Low profile. Cast or release it on my mark, "Sonic Tail." Don't quote the mark.]

[Dragonslayers: Rasq: Still doing my thing. Auto-report: 46% power.]

[Dragonslayers: Ciara: Heading there on Luna, ST mark. Right.]

I probably shouldn't tell them that I have Luna's real name placed into a filter so I only see the nickname... Well. Only Rasq would get the joke. But he wouldn't appreciate it. Luna would be pissed, Ciara would support her in her pissed-off-dragon-ness, Oby wouldn't even care, except in regards to impact on efficiency. Vane... Well. He'd just look at me, sigh, and do something else. Monks.

Just one of the many secrets I am burdened with.

[Dragonslayers: Luna: Taking Ciara and myself there. ST.]

[Dragonslayers: Oby: Changing directions. I'll be there in less than half a minute. ST mark acknowledged, Taaybet.]

[Dragonslayers: Vane: Already there! ST acknowledged.]

I smile thinly. While loose discipline may be okay in most places - like, for instance, clearing out dungeons of trolls, goblins, orks and mindless undead - some sort of proper structure really helps in the big fights. Might not create so many losses that way. Not really a tearjerker, as most deaths are just time wasters - and the deaths of other people, who waste more time. Or get raised into an Elder Evil's spawn of some sort. We need to keep on remembering that. The death thing, not the time wasting thing. I don't think they will quite appreciate my perspective. Except for Oby... Hmm. I'll brainstorm up some ways for the group to unwind after, though they usually have their own methods in the city-state. It is only in 'the field' that I need to give some form of direction to our downtime.

My view shifts to city-state. Seems fine enough for all that is happening. I'll need a comprehensive report afterwards to detail all the damages, losses, everything. There should be some excuses in there to design it more to my liking.

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Here is the general summary: I'll be assisting in charging a super-breath attack with Rasq. Everybody else will be anchored at his other end, secure and waiting. Once the attack gets released, Rasq will auto-recover shortly - of course! - and I'll head off to the center of this mess with Luna. Everybody else will be based around Rasq. Ciara, stay in safety zones and use whatever ranged methods you believe are appropriate. Vane, provide point defence. Do not assume that a dragon will not send a breath attack your way just because you are on a same-aligned dragon. These lizards are crazy. Oby, use Rasq as a wall and launch platform as necessary. There is no real cover here. We are doing a heavily defensive approach here, with me as the forward front-line breaker.]

This artificially slow flight of mine is somewhat grating. I absolutely need to find some sort of excuse or rationality for supersonic flight speeds in-atmosphere. Will have to look into some more enchantments. Maybe an epic spell again? They are a good catch-all for everything, from finding lost keys to permanent shape-changing. Pull out some false pseudo-research, fake up a long casting time, and... Presto! High speed flight with perfect excuses and no point loss!

I take a deep breath, for dramatic reasons. I haven't needed to actually breathe for quite a long time. One more passenger sent on the humanity train to distant lands... Wonder how they will take this coming bit of news. Well, it's not like we haven't faced horrific monsters of vast size and power before. Or am I confusing them with a few of my other party members? Irrelevant!

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Okay. Now, to preemptively answer your questions about this approach, it is simple. We are not just fighting somewhere in the realm of over nine thousand odd dragons and their assorted hanger ons, but... Their gods as well. Yes, that is gods. Plural. Who may also be irrevocably, totally, berserk and insane. I can handle them. Luna is with me because I do not want her mind - hell, her soul - being permanently warped and corrupted by their divine auras or whatever BS is going on. My focus will be the heavy hitters, yours will be... As much of 'everybody else' as you can handle. The various Elder Evil waves and a few of the Blood War excursions are being thankfully tangled up elsewhere, so we should have a good chunk of time here to finish off things proper. The after-battle... Later.]

[Dragonslayers: Rasq: Huh. No problem. Auto-report: 92% power.]

[Dragonslayers: Ciara: Well. Gods-be... Killed? Thanks. Understood. It's certainly the personal approach...]

[Dragonslayers: Luna: I was going to ask, but... That is more than adequate. Thank you, Taaybet. Really.]

[Dragonslayers: Oby: I'll need to invest in anti-divine enhancements in the future. Received, all understood.]

[Dragonslayers: Vane: Changes nothing except perspective. Update appreciated.]

My personal reputation has gotten to the point that me saying that I can handle dragon gods is not a surprise anymore. I think they may have just blinked once or twice, maybe made a puzzled expression - but that's it.

I could remember things from Earth Bet, but a lot more of my personal military training has come from Tarant and the surrounding countries. Portal demon farming as a basis for industry. Small commando groups? Done it, saw the movie, won the wars, got the t-shirt. Earth Bet was more an example of... A somewhat idealistic utopia, near the end. I'll have to thank Accord for that. He did a lot of the background work. Mellowed out so much after I gave his powers an 'off' switch as well as stopping those Thinker headaches and raising his height (and 'height'!) considerably, he was like a changed man. Still focused on problems, of course. But a lot easier to get along with. He even hung out with Blasto! Accord! High! I can still laugh at the videos!

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: I might not need to kill them. Not that I'll be holding back, of course. Rasq's twin ray attacks in a under a minute, mark shortly following after. All readiness! Critical updates only now.]

Now to hope that a ball and chain won't be. Not that I actually consider Luna that, its just the current circumstances.

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: Don't answer this right away. I need you to spend the time remaining between now and when we meet up considering this: my top flight speed and manoeuvrability in this robe might be faster than you. I don't know your current top speed or how to handle your current enhancements. We haven't been practicing together much, and not since you got your snazzy neck-piece. And yes, I noticed the colours. Thank you for wearing it, regardless of where you got it from. What I want you to consider is this: there is a clear and obvious benefit to a psionic melding of us both when we fly out, both for reasons of your protection and for us to fly better. If we don't - besides your personal risks, there are also chances that just one more floating city could have been saved in the time lost. Or more. There should be no substantial after-effects of the melding - I've done it before with only a few days of weirdness for all involved. Maybe consult a psionic in the city-state afterward. Think on it.]

Few more seconds. And... Landing. I stare down at his massive, scaly, orange-brown neck for a few seconds before plunging my arms in, up past the elbows. I've already explained that particular act of inhuman strength as part of the party system, and it got accepted without point loss. His regeneration tries to seal the wounds - spit my arms back out - but they don't even make the slightest movement. I'll be here for a while. I start feeding a slow, but steady, amount of power into Rasq through my hands.

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Report.]

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: Right... Auto-report: 129% power. Getting itchy!]

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: No worries, you can take it, R! Think you can split your attention enough for the twin rays? I'd like to attempt to draw the bad-breathed lizards into a more concentrated group. Blast some outliers, see if we can get a massive tide heading this way. Keep your attention and and the big weapon focus on the exact center of the distant swarm, regardless of approaching sky-lizards.]

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: No. Problem. Say. When. I'm. Thinking. Semi. Random. Spiral. Works? Auto-report: 372% power.]

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Awesome. Should be a few short seconds for the request for the rays, but closer to a minute for the main event. We'll be aiming to surpass Unnamed Test One!]

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: K. Auto-report: 637% power.]

Things are getting hot on top of Rasq's head. I feel his flesh melting and my feet starting to sink, and pull out a tiny bit, hovering.

I debate on whether to pause and watch some more Godzilla movies, but decide against it.

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Report.]

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: ... Auto-report: 876% power.]

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Start the rays!]

Rasq starts his beam attacks. Fricking laser beams. Thick, red-black energies pour out from the massive horns jutting past his head, their flickering mass the thickness of a large man's thigh. They sweep in erratic patterns across the distant dragon swarm. Nothing happens at first, with changes becoming gradually more pronounced. Then, like a light switch being flicked, a good near-third of the outermost swarm starts to draw in towards us.

Zooming into the oncoming horde, I see lots of minor damage being inflicted. Scales flying off, burns appearing, claws and wing tips getting cut off from the weaker ones. Less impact on the fire resistant strains, but at least there was some damage being done even to them.

His skin is bubbling now. Like a hot black tar or mud pit, steam is rising. How this is even happening with his fire immunity stumps me for a few seconds. Internally self-generated heat must not count. There is also the bypassing-immunities fire breath attacks of solar dragons that I am now familiar with. Hmm. Well, same process as unnamed test one so far.

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Continue the rays! Report.]

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: ... Auto-report: 984% power.]

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: MARK CALLED: Sonic Tail, do NOT ACKNOWLEDGE. Just DO IT.]

I vaguely get the sense of magics being worked at the opposite end of the big guy. Redundancy is our friend!

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: CANCEL the rays!]

[PM: Taaybet-Rasq: Release the SCREAM at your discretion! We hit 997% last time!]

The rays stop, thankfully. The portion of the dragon swarm pulled towards us is still moving in our direction, if marginally slower. They have enough momentum to keep on coming regardless.

Continuing to hover over Rasq's head, I hear screaming. It is only after a few moments of realization that I grasp that it is the sound of boiling blood being steam whistled out of cracks and holes covering his entire upper body. If I wasn't immune to heat, I'd be flash-steam broiled in under a second. I hope they are alright back there. Maybe I should have told them to back off a bit? There are jets of red fluid all around me. I clench my teeth in a fierce grin. Definitely exceeding test one now.

The skill gains for Rasq on this - with Escalation active! - have to be massive.

[PM: Rasq-Taaybet: ... Auto-report: 1114% po-

The world explodes around me.

[Auto-Pause - Companion Death: Rasq]

- 1.2 - The First Second / 2.1 - The First Minutes / 2.2 - The First Minutes -

Last edited: Sep 3, 2015

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Sep 4, 2015

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2.2 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: City-State Wastelands.

Position: Floating in a settling mass of bloody gibs.

Mood: WTF. Seriously, WTF?

Time: Auto-paused.

[Auto-Pause - Companion Death: Rasq]

[Rasq Respawn timer: ... seconds to personal auto-resurrection at full health.]

Well. Shit. Did he at least get the scream attack off?! At least nobody else died, and he has his own resurrection options. However, those are still valuable seconds he is not around to assist the others.

I pan the camera around. Need to adjust the visual filters to account for the after-explosion glare. Everybody still intact, excellent! I would not want to risk these kinds of operations without some method of disabling friendly fire damage. Really glad that option exists.

Luna is... There. Alright. Panning back to the front and... Wow. Seriously. WOW. I remember nukes with less destructive power than what I see in front of me. Mind you, those were tiny nukes, but still. Rasq! My cute little monster man! He has graduated into the class of genuine weapons of mass destruction! If he could potentially do this every five minutes or so...! Not exactly the most subtle of weapons though. "Yes, you - army of darkness! Please bunch up into a nice little concentrated form out in a wide open area far away from population centres and don't do those effective hit-and-run-and-scatter tactics, m'kay? Thanks!"

...

The Necronomicon was pretty cool.

...

Maybe if I used some of my Voice powers? Nah, that is a slippery slope. Start with that and pretty soon I'll have a dominated world under my control. Again. I didn't even like the hell dimension I practised it in! I still felt guilty using it. I'll save it for special circumstances here.

Don't forgot the point penalties! Massive, no doubt.

...

I'm getting multiple Rasq stuffed animals. Really soon. At least one will have a fancy hat! ...Maybe Rasq would like some accessories to go with his giant spiked collar? Hmm. Only things I can think of that would suit him are hats, horn jewellery and perhaps... Bracers? With whatever they are called for going onto calves and ankles as well. I mean, after all, if I could put a hat on A'Tuin's head - regardless of it being a functional biosphere or not that I live in! - I could on other giant creatures. But he is a carnivore. Argh. Are hats 'in' with carnivores?!

I mentally pictured the Kaiju Mogaru with a top hat. It could work...

...

Panning the camera downwards reveals that yes, I am hovering in mid air. Rasq's body resumes somewhere above his mid-torso. It is showing signs of regeneration already, but not doing anything right now. Because pause obviously. Looking back at the destruction, an expanding crevice scars the landscape, leaving softly glowing melted edges. Wait a sec - melted? That is a serious upgrade from the earlier pure shock-wave nature of it previously. I guess supercharging Rasq and having him explode leads to some sort of exponential power increase? Plus the collar! Now I absolutely have to talk to him about it! So many ideas, so many ways to make reality my personal little... Mutually consenting partner of legal age. Skip the safe-words, though. Thought-cough.

What else? The dragon swarm. There is a visible tunnel of shattered parts through the nearby masses, leading straight to a bunch of dragon gods. I see you, bold gold lettering! More entries for my scrapbook-pedia! I'm really glad that I don't need to micro-manage that bunch of multimedia. It was amusing enough on Earth Bet, I grant you. But the appeal of filling an infinite scrapbook ended when I started going to slightly alternate universes. I was so obvious about it on Bet as well! I mean seriously. I was running after fleeing Endbringers to get posed pictures! I'm not surprised that many, many people thought I was insane there. Not that I can be insane, given Gamer's Mind. But it is understandable, and makes sense what they did to me. My rage afterwards? Well. Hell dimensions make good punching bags. They explode pretty. There are so many of them, too!

I check to make sure the scrapbook-pedia entries are all on super-duper-easy-automatic. Good!

Tunnel of gibbed dragons. I thought-giggle. Good quarter to a third of the swarm either destroyed, damaged or shaken up. It will make things marginally easier.

...

No, scratch those earlier thoughts. I am getting a big room all full up of Rasq stuffed animals.

...

After watching a few of my favourite Godzilla movies - the ones where he is the playing himself, not the ones where he is portrayed by humans in monster suits, or special effects of varying degrees - I un-pause and start to head towards the group at the back of Rasq. They look a bit shaken up but otherwise okay. I need Observe to confirm those details, as full body enclosed armour and masses of tentacles are not typically emotionally expressive. No wonder nobody likes playing high-stakes card games with me. To say nothing of moving my camera-view behind them... Cheaters gotta cheat!

At the same time, I'm rapidly switching my view to the swarm behind me. Specifically, to the floating cities in it - the previously floating cities. The falling cities that are becoming death traps for millions because of my orders. The survivors in the other cities are probably all deaf, too. I'm not going to tell the others. Yet. I quickly sketch out a mind-map and some rationalizations using 'collateral damage' and 'the dragons would have done it too' in big bold lettering. It doesn't help much. I'm getting lots of hits of Gamer's Mind. Dammit.

To make things even worse, his shot grazed the edge of the city-states' defences. I can zoom in and see the starting signs of walls automatically rebuilding and fields of force coming back online, but... Not before a good number of dragons had already slipped in. I make a mental note to stop looking only after the last one is defeated by my quick-response guard force and dedicate a view that way. I really, really hope that each and every one of those resurrected guardsmen and civilians do okay. PTSD therapy is one of the biggest government-supported service industries here and I'm not surprised.

That will be another few hundred clients if I'm lucky. "So, guardsman number three hundred and twenty seven. Can you tell me about your experience in the battle of the dragon swarm? Your feelings of betrayal, terror and helplessness as the defences you believed in and relied on were destroyed by something other than the dragons? Was there ever an official statement about that? The sight of masses of insane, berserk dragons pouring through the opening into the city-state? Maybe your experience of agonizing death? Hmm, yes... Another one of those 'roasted and eaten from the bottom up while alive', eh? Hold on, I'll get the stack of similar cases..."

I'm not smiling or thinking about stuffed Rasq dolls any more. I am still getting plenty of hits of Gamer's Mind.

...

The next city to fall will be in under a minute. I can see the slight listing angle that precedes the fall and Observe confirms the math required. The shock-wave should reach here a bit after that. At that point there will a few more wobbling and... Falling. Like dominoes. Or piñatas? I'm going to stop the metaphors there. I already know where it is going to go: fulling of screaming people, blood, death and... The Gamer's Mind hits are getting pinged so often that I can easily notice the effects.

Me? I'm sane. Super sane! Sane as Bonesaw watching popcorn giggling and cheering on in the splash zone, while the Siberian tosses Jack Slash babies from the new born ward while he works on his abstract art. I just replace her Stepford Smile with a neutral expression on myself.

I'm the rat in a cage with a wire in my brain pressing the lever that goes Keep Me Sane And Alive Forever over and over again and I can't stop while all the other rats get to press the pleasure levers and die starving and happy. Bastards. Lucky, lucky bastards.

...I'll need to see who or what is free after all this. Maybe some pretty outsiders using Monster Summons IX? They are usually discrete. Hmm. I've never more understood soldiers on leave then I have right now.

Still, with all I've seen... There are worse fates. Hell, I've inflicted some of them. Some of the things I've done... Hastur. Dude. You are unoriginal. Greyface? Mister scarry himself? He cried when I told him my life story. That was after we restored his memories. ALL of his memories. Coaxmetal can make something to kill him easy, but not me. Oh no. That really pissed me off how easily some of these two bit immortals can escape. I think that that iron golem still has the many dents where I punched him. Poked him. Clawed him. Melted him. Teared pieces of his arms off and flung them at him so hard they got embedded in his body. Then repaired him and did it again... And again... And...

Yes, the stats on active and passive use of Gamer's Mind are being recorded. No, I don't want to look at the line graphs showing its use-over-time breakdowns. Breakdowns.

Thought-sigh.

...

I send a private message just before I reach the group at the back. I'm really relieved to see them unharmed right now.

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: Luna? Your decision?]

[PM: Luna-Taaybet: I'll do it. Not like I had any sensible objections even when you first told me. Just... Be gentle. It's my first time!]

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: ...Jokes? Now?]

[PM: Luna-Taaybet: Taaybet. I have excellent, long-range vision. And hearing. Do I need to spell it out?]

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: ...no. Sorry. Thank you. Even from that spot on Rasq? Huh. And yes, I will... Ease it in gently. So very gently.]

Luna does a combination snort and cough that we've all come to interpret as her laughter. Me and her both hand wave away inquisitive looks, mouthing 'later'. Well, I do at least. She does some sort of gestures and expressions that only Ciara really understands, given the time they have spent together. Me too, of course - Observe is my social cheat tool.

As I see Ciara start to open her mouth to say something, I cut in first.

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Keep it to the group chat. I know you may want to talk, but this is a lot more secure than words. I have no definite idea how good those dragons - and dragon gods! - hearing is, even while insane, but I don't want to make it easy for them.]

[Dragonslayers: Ciara: Luna told me that she saw-

[Dragonslayers: Taaybet: Later. Please. I've got dragon gods to tenderize and you all need to kick the asses of the thousands of winged death delivery packages heading your way. Maintain group chat for priority messages only! No non-critical private messages, either. This will be a hectic time and I don't want myself - or any of you all! - to be distracted.]

I get a chorus of acknowledgements through group chat.

Ciara is already off of Luna, heading up Rasq's back while it regenerates. Its fast enough that she starts to jog. Mounting up on Luna, I realize how incredibly comfortable this harness is. Magical shape changing harnesses are fantastic. I examine it with Observe. Nice set of enhancements! Is that... Vibrate? I snort. I am so going to tease them both after this. I have no idea how Luna was alright with that particular bit going on. Unless Ciara was really selling it, like "Luna dearest! My favourite blue-purple gem of outer dragon beauty! I've got something... For you. I know how chafing saddle harnesses can be and I've thought of a solution! A lovely back and shoulder massager! With deep muscle penetrating action! You can even mentally adjust the areas and intensity! As a side effect, it also works my calves and thighs! Isn't it simply wonderful?!"

I choke back another small laugh.

No wonder she is smiling so often while riding Luna! It must have been one of the earliest enchantments. Then there is all the benefits of her item-possessing spirit lover...! Power perversion potential, indeed. Um. Hmm. I'm actually feeling a bit stressed right now. I wonder... No! Nope! Focus, Taylor! Its a nice harness, otherwise. Colouration designed to almost perfectly blend in with the purple-blue scale, hints of platinum highlights, strong back support. Made of dragon leather as well. That must have been an interesting discussion between the two of them, back in the day.

Everybody else has scattered while I've been lost in my thoughts.

I strap myself in, quickly. Luna twists her head back at me, raising an eye ridge over a large, reptilian eye expectantly.

Showing off your eyebrow lifting skills, eh?

I understand the unspoken inquiry.

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: Ready?]

[PM: Luna-Taaybet: ...and waiting! Eager!]

I sigh. For real this time, no need to thought-sigh when I'm not paused. If that is the way she wants to play it, I'll mess with her a little during the merging process. A little bit of telekinesis, some telempathy, memory tidbits, imagery, pleasure nerve stimulations. Maybe a bit of heat and cold manipulation as well... Oh yes. Some sensory feedback for me too, just because. Well. Stress! I'm excused, dammit!

I mentally merge with Luna.

A/N: Enjoy the snippet!

Questions for the readers:

1) What are the most insane/world altering adventure and/or campaign modules for D&D/Pathfinder you know of? Versions or levels don't matter.

2) How many people are interested in an extensive in-character 'report' on the nature of the city-state? Rough blurb: start with The Spelljammer, add MORE awesome.

3) What are some notable abuses/excesses of power in D&D/Pathfinder that are actually FUN but stupid exploitable? Any info appreciated.

4) Any estimates on ideal word length per submission?

(PMs are fine for any reply if you don't want to post.)

Last edited: Sep 4, 2015

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Threadmarks 2.3) The First Minutes

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Sep 5, 2015

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2.3 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: City-State Wastelands.

Position: Mounting my favourite purple-blue dragon. I mean on top! Riding! With a harness! ARGH...

Mood: Realllly, realllly grooovy.

Time: Flowing like the waves!

I mentally merge with Luna.

[PM: Luna-Taaybet: ...! Rbrflller blurbaber... !]

She likes it! Vibrating shoulder massager, zero. Psychic-magical-elemental sensual merging process, one.

Though I don't how the range of effect on that 'shoulder massager'. Maybe they are both using it creatively? I might be better off not knowing.

Sensory feedback? Very very gooooooood.

Rubbing your stomach and patting your head at the same time is nowhere near the amount of multi-tasking I have going on right now.

...

I'm glad that her messages were not done over group chat. That would have been a little bit awkward.

...

We are flying at a rapid pace towards the center of the swarm, where the dragon gods are. We've already easily defeated a fair number of outlier dragons. Luna wanted to go in a more erratic path to clear more on the way, but I preferred a more direct route. Less time. Seconds matter, now. She is fast. A lot of the dragons on our path try to follow us, but they are simply too slow. That choker is a seriously impressive piece of work. Maybe she wouldn't have slowed me down? Well. If I kept to normal speeds, yeah. All out... Everything would slow me down. But the point cost! Brrr. Expensive.

I've been arranging our fights so that I can get bites for myself - humanoid self, not us/dragon self - and a constant supply of blood spray for Eggy. Details about those things have been mentally locked away, regardless of how deep Luna actually thinks this merging actually is. I had to put down a LOT of mental walls to make sure she will stay intact during this process. I'd rather not explain to Ciara how I 'accidentally' absorbed the mind and soul of one of her best friends. "I accidentally her existence?" "Um... I sneezed? In my mind? Ooops." No. Not a good idea, at all.

I/we are really enjoying this flight. It's been decades - at least! - since I was in one my dragon forms, or variants thereof. Haven't used any of them in this particular multi-verse yet. Point cost without a reasonable explanation would be rather high. I think that I'm actually controlling me/us better than Luna did her own body without me. That's embarrassing.

I focus one mental eye camera inward. Our combined mind-scape is bland and basic. I've kept it simple, a blank grey cube with no distracting details. One huge locked, chained, blackened vault door on my 'side' of the room, a much smaller steel banded light blue door on Luna's. In here, she looks like a purple-skinned, blue haired teenager, wearing clothes of the same colours. Kind of reminds me of Vane, except with different hair. I wonder how she sees me?

I/we see Taaybet as a massive dragon made of the darkness of space, filled with countless stars of many different colours. It is... Much bigger than me. I/we am really impressed.

Not too shabby at all. Reminds me of my black star sky suit, except it has none of the gold highlights.

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: You can't fool me now, you know. I get that you liked it.]

I mentally poke in the direction of the memory, as well as all the whining and faux protests that occurred after it.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: That... Was impressive. That was... Just teasing!? Wow. Felt like... more...! ]

I thought-grin Luna's way. After a few moments, she does the same back to me. Lots of firsts here today! Lets hope that I can make god-killing tolerable, at the minimum.

...

Dammit.

Did I actually do the whole "make your first time so amazing that all the others pale in comparison" thing? Again? Will my life be a series of repeating the same mistakes in different settings, over and over?!

...Yes, probably.

Let me sift through her memories... Congratulations, Taylor. You have successfully psionically-magically-telekinetically taken the first time of a multi-century female dragon virgin. She liked it.

Argh! I'm some sort of friend-molester monster taking advantage of a younger person in a moment of weakness! Robbing an eight hundred year old cradle! I can't blame drugs or booze, either. Would this be like... Glory Girl groping Panacea because her boyfriend Gallant is not around? No, not like that at all. Very very bad example. Although I think I helped that situation really well, at the end.

I'll have to hook Luna up with a psionic dragon of some sort. She might be spoiled for mere flying outer dragon deep-space sex-tango. I'm not looking forward to the talk with Ciara after this, or the other outer dragons. The whole vibrating harness thing seems kinda tame now. Or I could just wipe it from her mind?

No... That way leads to the same slippery slope that using Voice powers do. Save it for the critical stuff, not the "getting out of your own screw-ups" stuff. I'm not Canary, and this is not her boyfriend... I'm not going to rescue myself from my own emotional Birdcage-sentencing.

I don't want to be some sort of monster seducing... Monster! "No, Godzilla, I do not want another skyscraper. Even if it looks pretty. Put it back where you found it." That could have happened. Glad I realized the signs of his crush before it developed. There is a reason my copies of his movies are personally autographed, you know.

I don't think I will ever get one hundred perfect completion on any of my quests. Maybe if I try a really really small one, like in a custom designed demiplane?

...

Even though Luna is rather pretty... No, Taylor. No! I'm already making a firm decision to decline any romance sub-quest prompts that pop up.

...

I explode a few dragon's heads in irritation. It doesn't help.

What a waste of dragon heads...

...

How on earth does one erotic experience create such an imprint?! Was she that starved for affection?!

Um. Hmm. Yes, actually.

Now I feel bad for not hugging her after all the times I hugged Rasq.

I thought she and Ciara were more friendly? Looks more buddy-buddy platonic, from these memories I'm scanning. Maybe a tiny edge of something, but that is it.

...

I attempt to do synchronized attacks at the surrounding dragons while we are in flight. Maybe I can time it to some music? Hmm... Scrolling down the playlist, I think screw it to myself and pick the first one that comes up with the filter set to 'super fast' and 'upbeat'.

Spoiler: [Happy Hardcore Anthems - 99 Red Balloons]

Close enough!

It works, even though these aren't all 'red balloons'. Kind of slow, though. I'll just triple the speed.

...

The quest prompt popped up. I declined it. Even though the benefits looked so awesome - increased reputation with a large amount of her extended family, potential access to a mass of artifacts, exclusive demiplanes... Wow. No.

Dammit.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry about the chaos that has happened to my romantic life since I changed my orientation to "undefined" in the settings menu. Of course the option greyed out after I selected it on a whim. I mean... I've been attracted to sentient rocks, for goodness sake. Not a rock - rocks! Plural.

...

In my defence, they were really good looking rocks. Their differing perspectives on tectonic plate movements over trillions of years in virtual universes were... stimulating... The way the cosmic radiation hit them in the light of the twin-sunned desert... Argh!

Now I'm craving a pet rock. Maybe a... Blue-purple one?

I'll make a copy of that sculpture I made for her for myself, as well.

Luna...

...

I/we am Yellow-Purple-Blue Death, Destroyer of Dragons! Come near me/us and be dissected! Flensed! Butchered! Frozen! DESTROYED!

A mad laugh bursts out of my mouth as I ride the emotions of sheer joyful carnage we are both generating. It is a lot different than what I'd be feeling if doing this solo, with the impact of Gamer's Mind pinging away.

Luna breathes a massive burst of super-chilled gas while roaring with enough force to send nearby dragons into a brief free-fall. Her cold breath freezes and then shatters the head and neck of a white dragon. Outer dragons are so over powered! I like it! If an insane berserk dragon could be surprised, I'm sure it would be. "I'm a white dragon immune to cold! I bathe in icy water! Call me Mister Freeze-Dragon! ...Why am I frozen? Cold pain is bad pain!"

Mister Freeze was a lot more mellow once I solved the problem with his wife. One more happy ending, thankfully. I've got a lot to balance out. Stupid planet destroying temper tantrums.

I send mental happy-pats Luna's way, while using the robe lashes to slice off limbs, wings and heads of dragons that dare to approach. I like this robe. The Practice Effect is having a field day with it, and since I get to prevent the advancements from backsliding... Easy continual upgrading of my own major artifact. Awesome. Definite keeper! ...Should I farm Hastur for more of them?

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: Holding up alright?]

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Yes, thanks. I'm still a bit concerned about facing the actual dragon gods. But... I'll manage. I'm putting off thinking too hard about what... The cities... Killing dragons... Later. Later.]

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: Yeah. It will still be a short while until we get to them. How are you with the whole 'two bodies, one-sorta-mind' thing we have going on?]

We/I like it a LOT!

I get the impression of dragon muzzle rubs and a... Blush? Wow. Can dragons blush? There we go, crush confirmed, if the quest prompt was not enough proof already. Crap. I'm not looking forward to the talk with Ciara at all.

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: Good to hear it. Keep up the whole blue-purple angel of death thing you have going on!]

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Yes!]

She seems so happy. There has to be a win-win around this situation. I don't like kicking puppies of any sort, even the giant, multi-century old big monster ones.

I just realized that I'm more worried about Luna then I am about the dragon gods.

I laugh out loud. Yes sir! You dragon gods - come here and die with my assistance! I need a distraction from a complicated multi-species, same-gender, psychic-magical romantic complication!

...

Maybe some sort of three way with Luna, Ciara and her past lover's spirit? They already have a developing relationship, so... I'll have to approach it carefully, but it might work. I don't think she is attached to anyone living right now. Might be wrong though.

Almost anything is better than getting deeply involved with me.

...

That's a pretty sad but accurate way to describe my serious relationships.

Still, I... Don't want to lose Rasq to Vane, even if they are just war buddies.

...

Yes! I got the quest prompt! Benefits look pretty good, too!

...

Getting close to the dragon gods now. If this robe was not magically cleaning I'd be caked in a layer of dragon blood and organs. As it is, I have to spend a brief bit of attention every few attacks to remove the gore from Luna, otherwise the sheer accumulated weight of all of it would interfere with her/our flight. Think jet plane going through a flock of geese with geese-seeking propellers attached. One tidbit I'll need to discuss in regards to enchantments afterwards. I'd like to think that we won't be facing massive armies again while flying, but that is an absolute pipe dream right there.

I turn on the map quest markers and set them to the divine doom lizards. Even though quest markers may be a bit cheaty, they have their uses. Needle in a haystack in a haystack field on haystack planet in the haystack universe!? Not. A. Problem! Mini-map too. It's been a while since I used them - they are only really suited to grand battlefields like this, with priority targets. I've long since developed entire sets of powers that compensate for the benefits that maps and markers provided.

I've had my Observe tags on as many of the dragon gods from as far out as possible. Things don't look good. It is practically a definite thing that they are super insane. Not the kind of insane that a wish or ten could cure, but the same kind of insane that our over-powered, reclusive Solar has and manages with her wish doses. Every. Single. Day. Divine insanity. Crap.

I'll point out that I have cured her insanity before, no problem. Only real issue is it sticking. The effect seems to creep in from somewhere else. Get rid of that and I'll likely have a much better chance to do something about it. I'm hesitant to use the Mystic Eyes to kill that connection, as I'm uncertain what the longer term consequences of it would be. She also seems to be delightfully mad. When I first met her, there was a lot of negative feelings happening, such as depression, intense alcoholism, and excessive paranoia. Nowadays, it is more like bouts of mania, happy drunkenness, and reasonable paranoia.

Her atoning a saint is hilarious. "Soooooo. Screwed up? You... sorrrry? Okay forgiven! Be good, try better!" Then she hiccups and takes a swig from her half-empty bottle, drains it, tosses it in the corner and summons another one. We usually have to get someone to escort the now-restored saint out, as their shock tends to immobilize them for a few minutes. The record was about two hours. Not that I'm counting! It was logged! Though... The one time we didn't escort the atoner out - some paladin or another - we found them both together, singing, drunk. We waited till they passed out. In my defence, they were both good singers. It made a fantastic record, too!

...

This robe cloth tassels are moving around so fast it's like there is a yellow fog around us. Dragons continue to do their best impression of a Zerg rush, all but throwing themselves at us in their extremely stupid acts of aggression. Most aren't even bothering to use ranged breath attacks or magic, preferring to attack with claws and jaws.

I spy with my eye... A yellow dragon's dismembered head! I spy with my eye... A shiny silver dragon falling to the ground! I spy with my eye... A... This is getting boring. I think I've saw every single kind of bits from every single kind of dragon in the few sparse minutes we've engaged the swarm. Slowing down that time into hours and days isn't helping, either.

The only thing really running through my mind in regards to the dragon gods is...

Are we there yet?

A/N: Out of pre-stocked material to edit. Will need to make MOAR!

Will try to do a substantial blurb every Friday. We'll see how I adhere to that. :p

References and info-dumps coming!

Just using threadmarks from now on, passing on the - X - stuff, unless there are requests for it.

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 5, 2015

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Threadmarks X.1) Interlude Infodump: State of the Planes (ongoing revisions)

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 6, 2015

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Interlude Infodump: State of the Planes (ongoing revisions)

A/N: This post will be updated as time goes on with information relevant to the story at hand. As of the first initial writing, it is current up to 2.3. If updates apply retro-actively (e.g. more internal history is revealed/written), there will be no mark (no "[9.7]"); if something comes up in new material, there will be (e.g. "[9.7] UPDATE: All the gods are holding a party. You're not invited.") Note that it is IN-CHARACTER, so... Think government press releases, if you want an idea of the accuracy of it. ;)

- The city-state now has a name. It is Ozymandias. Much, MUCH meaning to read into that name...

"I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:

And on the pedestal these words appear:

'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away."

- Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822)

...

(Interlude Infodump: State of the Planes - a bit past 2.3 or so intro version)

...

Random citizen, Sigil, any time recently.

There is chaos and pandemonium everywhere. Fire, smoke, noise. Debris flies past you on a constant basis.

"I THOUGHT THIS PLACE WAS SAFE!" you scream. Nobody notices, nobody cares. The crowd pushes you out of the way, in their haste to enter an out-city portal. Any portal. Some of them you know lead to infernal realms. Some of the people you see you know that they know that as well. It doesn't stop them. Some of them are gripping pieces of paper tightly in their hands. Others carry small pieces of luggage, or sacks tied to their backs or at their waist.

It's Sigil, the city at the center of the planes. The most secure planar metropolis in existence - or at least it was, until recently. You can see through the holes - the massive, massive openings - of the torus that made the city up. You can literally watch houses and streets crumple, tear and fall away into the empty space outside or roll and crash into other houses. It's a slow, but steady process. You have no idea how long it can last like this. Months? Weeks? Days?!

There is nothing doing the process. No massive army of demons, no gigantic monsters, no slow but endless tide of ooze or insects. There is nothing to fight or counter. It is like the tide of time as it ages, rots, decays and destroys the very fabric of reality in front of you.

Dabuses, the inscrutable agents of the Lady, are floating around in large groups. They are more frenzied and active then usual. Some of them somehow stumble in the air and fall to the ground, but get lifted up by others in their group. Dabuses never fall! That's... Impossible!

Impossible? So is Sigil being destroyed like this. Where is the Lady of Pain? Why hasn't she stopped this? Can she stop this?!

You fall to your knees, bring your hands down to the ground beside you on either side. Before you can sob, you bring your hands to your face and... Both hands have grabbed onto papers that have littered the surface below you.

Smoothing one out, you start to read.

With a small pinch on your hand, another identical paper appears in thin air beside it and drops to the ground. You pay it no mind.

Attention All Sentients of All The Planes!

Please read this paper in full, Random Sigil Citizen.

NOTE: This paper has been enchanted to be personally labeled, read, seen and understood by any sentient being, regardless of language skills, senses, or any other impediment. If you are sentient and have the ability to even think, you can understand it. Please read it all and make an informed decision. If the paper is held and you start to read it, it will use a tiny bit of your life-force to make another copy. The copy effect will only occur once per pick up; drop, pick up and read again to generate another paper. Extra copies can be held (unread) and ripped in order to destroy them. The ripped copies will self-destruct, harmlessly, in under a minute. They are otherwise unusually durable pieces of paper and you need not worry about water or normal damage or non-magical fires burning it, and it will automatically dissolve in about a century unless preserved by other means.

The State of the Planes:

1) PLANES ARE MERGING. Prime material planes are merging with other planes, hells and infernal realms are merging with other hells, heavens and celestial realms are merging with other heavens, and elemental and energy planes are merging with each other. There is no method, order or system to this merging other than an escalation of intensity. It can happen instantly or gradually, with anywhere from a single house to an entire plane being transplanted. It is predicted that after all the of the major groups have merged - the prime materials with other primes, hells with other hells and so on - that the barriers will further break, and those entire groups will start to merge with each other. Meaning, the primes, hells, heavens, elementals and energies ALL together, ALL at once. NOTE that this is NOT YET happening, but it MIGHT.

- UPDATE: Hundreds of small and large mergings in the primes noted, thousands (at minimum) expected as actual numbers.

- UPDATE: All the nine layers of the infernal hells of Baator have merged.

- UPDATE: Multiple layers of the Infinite Layers of the Abyss have merged, becoming supremely huge layers.

- UPDATE: Cross-planar travel may be corrupted with additional negative side effects or enhancements.

- UPDATE: There has been confirmation of gods and god-like beings, never before seen on these planes, appearing.

- UPDATE: There have been signs of the barriers around the Demiplane of Dread weakening. The city-state of Ozymandias declares this a false alarm!

- UPDATE: Signs of the Far Realms have appeared. The city-state of Ozymandias declares this a false alarm!

- UPDATE: Signs of the Dark Tapestry have appeared. The city-state of Ozymandias declares this a false alarm!

2) TIME IS DISRUPTED. The flow and nature of time is no longer working properly. Planes and demiplanes with altered time features may act inconsistently, dangerously or both. More importantly, the planar merging process crosses the historical time barrier. Some mergings in the primes have already been confirmed as coming from the distant past. These acts of cross-time transportation should alter history, except they do not. That is CORRECT: any thing, any place, from any time can emerge anywhere. These transitions are most often massively destructive for all that encounter them! Any Elder Evil, any ancient buried god, any artifact of destruction - they ALL have a chance to show up, here and now. There is a possibility of alternate history mergings as well.

- UPDATE: Short range divination is erratic but has some small successes.

- UPDATE: Time based magic has been confirmed to function in erratic ways in low chances.

- UPDATE: Seers and divination magic foresee the end of the all planes, space and time in a short period of years. The city-state of Ozymandias declares this is a side effect of time being disrupted!

- UPDATE: Some Netherese floating cities from the ancient human-centric magocracy of Netheril have appeared in the prime material plane. The city-state of Ozymandias has welcomed these new citizens! Please redirect all lost Netherese to the city-state of Ozymandias - some may be magically or psionically compelled away! The city-state of Ozymandias will reward you for your efforts!

- WARNING: The city-state of Ozymandias has declared an edict against the use and creation of mythals and mythallars! ALL VIOLATIONS OF THIS EDICT WILL BE SEEN AS AN EXTREMELY HOSTILE ACT OF WAR AGAINST THE CITY-STATE OF OZYMANDIAS AND WILL BE DEALT WITH AS SUCH! Contact the city-state of Ozymandias if you or your organization are interested in the legal export of a mythal or mythallar! The city-state of Ozymandias thanks you for your compliance!

- Note 1: See reverse of paper for contact information of the city-state of Ozymandias.

- Note 2: See very fine print on bottom of page for full and complete definitions of what mythals and mythallars are.

3) BLOOD WAR'S STALEMATE IS OVER. Chaos has WON, and is in an endless siege against the Lawful Evil devils' plane of Nessus. All the other layers of Baator are lost. If the last hold-out of the Malsheem citadel falls, the demons will sweep across the planes.

- UPDATE: The ever-infighting chaos demons have demonstrated form, structure and functional organization unlike what was ever recorded before.

- UPDATE: Roving squads and armies of demons have already taken to raiding the prime material and other planes.

- UPDATE: Nessus is the now the only layer of Baator, as the other layers have merged into it or been consumed by the Infinite Layers of the Abyss.

- UPDATE: Malsheem is functioning as an evil deity and Power sanctuary. See 'Malsheem', below, in the FACTIONS REFERENCE LIST.

- UPDATE: Malsheem has greatly expanded. See 'Malsheem', below, in the FACTIONS REFERENCE LIST.

- UPDATE: The devils are using an epic multi-planar spell that draws their attention to non-evil notable heroes, adventurers, and other people of significance. With this information, they make targeted kidnapping attempts through cross-plane portals using squads of elite devils. On the other side, they are given two choices: sign and serve for a century as a 'return fee', or be thrown out the front door.

- UPDATE: There have been cases of entire guard barracks, army garrisons, monasteries and more being emptied in one night after they appear and merge into the prime material plane.

- UPDATE: The massed repeating deaths and resurrections of the devil-contracted adventurers have driven many of them insane. A large portion are simply mindless agents of destruction - of chaos! - and spiral into a further cycle of death, resurrection and madness.

- UPDATE: Confirmed abducted prominent heroes include: Drizzt Do'Urden, Elminster Aumar, ...

- NOTICE: The city-state of Ozymandias welcomes the immigration of beings that can fall victim to the devils (or any others) and their friends and families! Please contact the city-state of Ozymandias for immigration or refugee status!

4) CELESTIAL HEAVENS AT WAR. Nearly every single good and neutral-aligned god or god-like power equivalent being is either insane, dead, barricaded in their own divine realm, captured, maimed or fighting other celestial or infernal forces.

- UPDATE: Sane, so-called normal local gods have been divined to be fighting over the acquisition of new followers from merged planes, while in-coming gods are fighting for their own self-defence. This is a common occurrence.

- UPDATE: There has been rumours of divine power beings in the city-state of Ozymandias that are not insane. The city-state of Ozymandias welcomes the prior-approved, careful immigration of divine beings and Powers! Please do not just show up as the city-state of Ozymandias can not guarantee your safety or sanity! The city-state of Ozymandias thanks you for your compliance!

5) CHANNELED DIVINE MAGIC BROKEN. While there may be some functional divine magic users and their god patron connection existing, the majority is broken. This means that all clerics, paladins, cultists and divine (or infernal) magic users are unable to use, access or restore any of their magic.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that cleric and divine magic users who worship concepts, places, and ideals are still able to access, use and restore their spells.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that ur-priests process of 'stealing' divine magic energy to fuel their own divine magic still works, regardless of the state of all the gods.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that gods and Powers can imbue a microscopic, negligible charge of their own essence into artifacts for the use of divine magic practitioners.

- UPDATE: Ur-priests have expanded their entry requirements to compensate the planar situation, granting good-aligned people training; 'stealing' of divine energy has been re-branded as 'borrowing'.

- UPDATE: A new religion founded from an ur-priest based in the city-state of Ozymandias has been formed.

- UPDATE: A few religions have completely converted their clergy and holy (or unholy) warrior orders to ur-priests, conceptual ideal or location-based worship.

6) EPIC FORCES HAVE EMERGED. The merging of planes and times has allowed for multiple rare convergences of epic power to all occur at once. Here are some of the currently known forces and their fates:

- THE TARRASQUE, The Armageddon Engine: AWAKENED, UPGRADED, and RECRUITED into the city-state of Ozymandias!

- MOGARU, The Kaiju: AWAKENED, UPGRADED, and PATROLLING around the city-state of Ozymandias!

- THE UNSPEAKABLE ONE, Great Old One: DESTROYED in assisted group combat, SUPPRESSED by her will, and WORN in style by the Empress of the city-state of Ozymandias!

- THE SPELLJAMMER, The Legendary Eternal Queen of Wildspace: GROUNDED, UPGRADED, CAPTAINED by the Empress and FORMS the VERY CITY-STATE of Ozymandias!

- ATROPUS, The World Born Dead: DESTROYED by Ozymandias-sourced teams!

- PANDORYM, God-slaying Sentient Superweapon: DESTROYED by Ozymandias-sourced teams!

You're not supposed to see the below entries, Random Sigil Citizen!

- MOEN, The Deadly Warden: GODDESS RECRUITED into the city-state of Ozymandias!

- QUALM, Infinitely Ever-More-Powerful Holy Warrior: RECRUITED, SECOND to the Empress of the city-state of Ozymandias!

- CTHULHU, Great Old One: IMPRISONED by the city-state of Ozymandias!

- THE LEVIATHAN, World-spanning Serpent: CONTROLLED and MINED by the city-state of Ozymandias!

- ZARGON THE RETURNER, Ever-Regenerating Monster: CONTROLLED, TRANSFORMED and WORN by THE TARRASQUE of the city-state of Ozymandias!

The below entries are not yet certain in this time-space continuum, Random Sigil Citizen! The fourth wall is breaking!

- KYUSS, The Worm That Walks: CONTROLLED by the city-state of Ozymandias!

- RAGNORRA, Mother of Monsters: SUCCESSFULLY COUNTERED by the city-state of Ozymandias!

- SERTROUS, Demonic Serpent Lord: SUCCESSFULLY COUNTERED by the city-state of Ozymandias!

- FATHER LLYMIC, Far Realm Monster: DESTROYED by Ozymandias-sourced teams!

- THE HULKS OF ZORETHA, Juggernauts of Nightmares: DESTROYED by Ozymandias-sourced teams!

7) NORMAL MAGIC IS ERRATIC. Due to the state and condition of the various gods of magic, the access, use, and recharge of spells, conventional and epic, is no longer universally stable.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that multiple gods of magic are present. This has the effect of enhancing existing magic.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that native level ten and higher power magic spells are possible.

- UPDATE: It has been confirmed that that at least one god of magic has been captured, maimed, driven insane or all three.

- WARNING: The city-state of Ozymandias has declared an edict against the use and creation of offensive epic and level nine and greater magic specifically directed against it! ALL VIOLATIONS OF THIS EDICT WILL BE SEEN AS AN EXTREMELY HOSTILE ACT OF WAR AGAINST THE CITY-STATE OF OZYMANDIAS AND WILL BE DEALT WITH AS SUCH! The city-state of Ozymandias thanks you for your compliance!

- Note 1: See reverse of paper for contact information of the city-state of Ozymandias.

- Note 2: Specifically barred epic spell seeds include Afflict, Animate Dead, Compel, Delude, Destroy, Energy, Slay, and MOST ESPECIALLY Shadow and Mythal! See very fine print on bottom of page for full and complete definitions of epic spell seeds and restrictions.

8) YOU HAVE OPTIONS. This paper is only meant to be an informational guide. With everything said above, any reader can choose to make a calm, rational decision. Prominent choices are:

a) KEEP STATIONARY. Stay where you are. If you have supplies, self-generating means, or some other form of independence and can weather the coming storm - go ahead! Do what some planar metropolises can't!

b) RUN AWAY. Flee from any sign of destruction. There is a chance you can extend or avoid some chaos by doing so. A very, very small chance.

c) INSANITY. Extremely easily. No methods specified as it seems very common. A large number of gods are already insane. Easier than sanity now!

d) DEATH. Alone or in groups, solo or assisted, peacefully or screaming in agony. Please note that the normal process of post-death afterlife transitions are not reliable, and you may end up a mindless ghost wandering the planes for all eternity. If you can not die, please consult the city-state of Ozymandias for assistance.

e) ANNIHILATION. Significantly more difficult then mere death, this involves total bodily destruction (occasionally soul as well, depending on methods). Known methods include use of spheres of annihilation, true name magic ritual of Unnaming, and deities' Hand of Death divine salient ability. Note that soul and body recreation is still possible, even after these means, by truly dedicated and powerful beings. If you can not self-annihilate, please consult the city-state of Ozymandias for assistance.

f) CORRUPTION. A potential combination of insanity and death, it involves being transformed, mind, body and/or soul, into another being. Mostly occurs through interaction with Elder Evils and other powerful ancient entities. Note that corruption is often a monstrous transformation coupled with mindless slavery until your likely violent, horrible death. This paper is not providing means for your corruption. There are plenty - figure one out yourself!

g) ASCENSION. If you have (or can obtain) some latent divine or Power-sourced abilities, there is the possibility of Ascension. As this may involve killing or consuming other deities, no instructions or assistance is provided by this paper. Some Bhaal-spawn may still be active around the planes! The city-state of Ozymandias does not condone or support god-killing and refutes any claims to the contrary!

h) SHELTER OR SUPPLICATION. Be part of a winning team! Perhaps your joining will determine victory or defeat? Or be utterly meaningless? See below list for a run-down of the prominent, known factions in the current multi-planar situation.

9) FACTIONS REFERENCE LIST. In no particular order, these are the known movers and shakers of the planes and some information around them.

a) THE CITY-STATE OF OZYMANDIAS. Currently located in the prime material plane, this very rapidly expanding, planar super-metropolis, stronghold citadel, city-state is a bastion of light in the coming darkness! It has the intrinsic, epic level and ancient magical defences inherent from The Spelljammer and what was once called The World's Largest Dungeon (see fine print at bottom of page). It is supported by the Empress' personal mobile stronghold, a Planar Sphere capable of exact planar travel even in these trying times, and a massive internal army and defence force more than capable of crushing all that besieges it. It has green parks, internal water supplies, open air environments for flying species, and guaranteed living spaces and employment for all citizens. Truly an oasis among cities!

- UPDATE: The city-state of Ozymandias is proud to announce that it has the support of new accessory floating client cities, as well as mythals and mythallars!

b) THE CITY OF UNION. Located in a rare demiplane of pleasant temperatures and floating, self-supporting islands joined by bridges and standing free, this is the second newest planar metropolis. Founded by Mercanes, it is a commercial city that bars no one if they are dedicated to profitable or merchant activities. It is a hotbed of epic heroes, villains and creatures, all seeking their own personal advancement - and you can be part of it as well!

- UPDATE: Please note that the city of Union has recently been destroyed and epic level monsters are overflowing the buildings, streets, skies and islands there. The city-state of Ozymandias is grateful for its new citizens and mourns the loss of this once-newest former planar metropolis and all in it.

c) THE CITY OF SIGIL. Also known as 'The Cage' or 'The City of Doors', the city proper itself is located on the inside of a giant hollow torus atop the Spire in the Outlands. The most famous planar metropolis, it is ruled by the enigmatic, vastly powerful and mysterious Lady of Pain, who directs her force of dabuses to maintain it. It is a highly secure location as the Lady blocks outer powers from entering, and has the benefit of countless portals to other planes within it. Be part of history as a citizen in the most well known city accross the planes!

- UPDATE: Please note that the city of Sigil has started to fall apart. The Lady of Pain and her dabuses have slowed the process, but it is expected to be completely gone in a few years. Before that time is over, it is likely to become uninhabitable.

- UPDATE: The city-state of Ozymandias is grateful for its ongoing stream of new citizens and mourns with the ever-stoic Lady of Pain over the fate of her city.

d) THE CITY-CITADEL OF MALSHEEM. The personal stronghold of Asmodeus, the Lord of Hell and Overlord of the lesser Dukes of Hell, it is located on Nessus, the ninth and final layer of Baator. It is an armoured, secure location, capable of holding millions of devils within its walls. Depending on your status and relationship to the Lord, your welcome may be simply warm or exceedingly so.

- UPDATE: All lawful evil gods, beings of like power and aligned entities that are not dead, maimed, insane or captured have holed up in Malsheem.

- UPDATE: The size and shape of Malsheem has vastly expanded. It rivals that of most prime material capital cities and has become a walled, secure, planar super-metropolis of sorts.

- UPDATE: The devils are gaining a large number of legitimate drafted heroes to fight in their war. See BLOOD WAR'S STALEMATE IS OVER, above.

z) CAUTION: There are many more significant factions! This is an incomplete list of particular relevance to the city-state of Ozymandias, or from factions who have donated to the Epic Paper Spell Development Fund.

Thank you for reading this important notice, Random Sigil Citizen! See bottom of page for more detailed information about mythals, mythallars, restricted epic spell seeds and more. Turn page over to 'blank' side and wait a few moments to see contact information for the city-state of Ozymandias. The city-state of Ozymandias thanks you for your compliance!

The research and development costs of the epic magic involved in this paper have been paid for by the Government of the city-state of Ozymandias, the personal funds of the Empress of the city-state of Ozymandias, and many sentients who support the causes of the city-state of Ozymandias. Special thanks is given to Asmodeus, Lord of Hell, who...

A/N: feedback and suggestions for improvement welcome. Does it 'work' as being in character? :)

Last edited: Sep 7, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 6, 2015

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Threadmarks 2.4) The First Minutes

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 8, 2015

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#57

A/N: ;~(

2.4 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: The wastelands surrounding the city-state of Ozymandias.

Position: Still on top of Luna. But not in that way. In another way...

Mood: Shell-shocked.

Time: Stuttering... Slow-paused?

Are we there yet?

...

NO!

...

I must enjoy jinxing myself, as I seem to do it so often. So very, very often.

Those are cursed words. Right up there with "Nothing can go wrong now!" I've used that one. Other epic shout-outs to the gods of bad chance include "I am invincible!", but even that one-liner is not enough to perma-kill me. The four day respawn tango? Yes. But perma-death? No. Nothing. Absolutely, ABSOLUTELY nothing in every single multi-verse can do it. I was so, SO incredibly hopeful about the Ultimate Nullifier. Four days later... Yeah. Not so hopeful. I took it... And my anger... Elsewhere. Very, very quickly.

"Don't underestimate me." They do.

"Meh - I can take her." No, you CAN'T.

"Don't leave me alone!" "Don't DIE!" "Don't BE SO SCARED!" "Don't be absorbed and annihilated into my being, rendering your existence null and void!" They.. do. They... are.

Automatic soundtrack generation of my life. Fucking. Perfect.

Spoiler: [The Sound of Silence by Paul Simon]

In these moments of apathy. In-attention. Distraction. In these moments of "dragons are doggie chow! Woof woof!" I... lost a teeny, tiny bit of control. Over my self. Over my mindscape.

Can you see where this is going, dearest imaginary log reader?

I'm not going to look in there right now.

Maybe it was justified. Maybe Caira and the outer dragons will understand. Be sympathetic. "After all," they will say, "you can't help it. You're a MONSTER. You destroy things. That is all you are good for. She got too close. Moths and flames don't mix. She was a moth. A very, very small moth, next to a very, very large flame. Don't worry about anything. We'll just point you to the next thing you can kill or break or inflict suffering on." Their smiles will become just a little more forced. The laughs a little bit more fake. And with Observe... WITH OBSERVE... I'll... I'll know exactly what they think of me, in absolute, perfect, excruciating and complete detail. Nothing masks it, nothing stops it, nothing covers it. After all, that is exactly what happened on Earth Bet. I had to stop using Observe. It was too much. Too, too much. I had to believe the false smiles. The jokes. The friendships. I had to. Even with what it cost me, in the end.

Now...

I was more worried about Luna than the dragon gods. But then I was focused on them. I was paying attention to the ever-closer group of stupid, stupid gold lettering. I was watching as an entire FUCKING FLOATING MOUNTAIN SKY CITY FELL RIGHT INTO OZYMANDIAS. Driving the whole city into the ground.

So.

Yeah.

That's a thing.

Wow, Gamer's Mind is having a field day with me right now...

I apologize if seeing an act of mass destruction against the people I've cared for, worked with, talked to, trained and empowered... Hell, exchanged bodily fluids with. Affects me. The tiniest bit. I'm not perfect. I've never said I was. Others have. I thought-sigh.

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.89% Assimilated]

...

Correction, I checked the logs and it looks like I did call myself perfect. But those moments were all meant in jest. Or at least sarcasm.

...

Where's that spare Reality Bomb again?

"Quest Complete" seems so very attractive right now...

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.92% Assimilated]

I don't know why I'm trying, really. From the second - atto-second? - I woke up to the realization of what I was doing, I had already sprung into action. Right now, I've got about a googol or two of ethereal phased duplicates of myself all around, all holding, pulling, grasping every single molecule, atom, psionic energy globule, ectoplasmic goo, arcane waveform, quantum particle, quark... ANYTHING AT ALL of Luna's.

Pulling her out... Of me. Of my mindscape.

My spirit is already broke, though. I just keep on seeing flashbacks to all the other times this has happened.

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.9999986521% Assimilated]

I keep on slowing time down. At least I have Gamer's Mind available. It helps. Not like back on Bet, near the end of my very first four day respawn, watching my dad in slow motion as a self-inflicted bullet crawled through his brain. That... THAT... Was bad. At least I found a solution, though - Fate Points. Doing what I couldn't. I burnt through all of them to fix that particular mistake. Nowadays, since I can do so much and Fate Points are only granted to do what I can't... They are very, very rare. So incredibly rare that between using them and destroying an universe... Well. Yeah. Mental note, if you are going off to a potentially lethal situation - like a certain Endbringer fight in Australia that you last bare seconds in - make damn sure your friends and family KNOW that you can self-resurrect!

Nowadays, I even tell my enemies. Sometimes. Other times, the expression on their face is priceless. "I'm backkkkkkkk!" Heh.

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.9999999999999999982452% Assimilated]

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.99999999999999999999999999999999999974289061% Assimilated]

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999725153% Assimilated]

Isn't this fascinating? Isn't this world of magic, dragons and gods delightful? Don't you feel glad to be alive, Taylor?

I wonder if there is some sort of Morse code contained in the Gamer's Mind pings I'm getting. Hmm... Nope. Maybe it is in code? I'll try a few hundred million common algorithms and then...

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - 99.999999999999999-

[PM: Ozy-Taaybet: Captain Taaybet, please do not send more than ten million messages over the span of a single second as it causes the servitors to stutter in their operations. I am reporting that while my ship-self has sustained minor damage, my core, the crew, and the passengers are all reasonably intact. No losses that can't be managed through resurrections or repairs. No confirmed abductions or soul-annihilations. The impacting vessel remains on top of my ship-self, while the mostly hollow ground below has absorbed the impact. My ship-self has sunken to approximately twice the height of the central spire. Repairs will continue from this sunken vantage point. I will issue further reports as needed. Ozymandias out.]

-999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999-

What? They are all OKAY?! I mean of course they are okay! What the hell was I thinking, a little stupid thing like a falling city damaging Ozy! She has leveled up her skin toughness and regen so much that...!

-99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999-

[Menu Pause]

-99999999762890961% Assimilated]

...

[Taylor uses Hope! It's super effective!]

...

I need some sort of excuse for an halo glowing effect with angels singing in the background.

...

Well, that certainly gave my downed spirits a kick in the adamantine ovaries. I'd do a happy dance, except pause. I imagine myself happy-dancing. It doesn't quite have the same effect.

Let's get serious.

...

Luna, I WILL give you a HAPPILY EVER AFTER even if I HAVE TO DESTROY THE UNIVERSE TO DO SO!

I thought-mad-cackle.

I take your googol and raise you to a GOOGOLPLEX! Every single one with the power of a supernova!

Macros and triggers set...

[Un-pause]

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - Assimilation Paused]

...

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - Assimilation Reversing, please stand by.]

[System note: If you wish to enable easy assimilation reversing, please enable the option under Menu - Inventory - Assimilation - Reversal Preferences.]

What.

Seriously. What?

I check it. It exists. That menu option actually exists!

I... Enable it. Very, very carefully. With one very precise, single mind-click. Leery of tricks. I still remember the false 'Quit' - that was so hilarious. Yes indeed.

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - Assimilation Reversed]

[A'Lunaria Veetrol - Assimilation Canceled]

...

Now I have to look at the logs to see if it was ever enabled before and... No. Thank goodness. I'd be beating myself over the head with the core of a neutron star if that was the case. Thought-sigh.

...

After three seasons of Carebears - still in slow-time, so I can actually move instead of being a statue with a mobile point of view - I resume normal time flow. Luna is still right below me, where she has been the whole time. She would have never even felt a thing.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Moons and stars! Are they alright?!]

I send thought-hugs her way, and it gets returned shortly after. This entire battle has been exhausting for many different reasons. I want to finish it now. How would Luna take to some super-charging? I mentally wince at the image of an exploding purple-blue dragon. No, let's ask first. I've had enough of near-death experiences of my friends in the last few minutes.

[PM: Taaybet-Luna: Yes, I just got a confirmation from the city. Though... I'm really really wanting to get to the over-powered sky lizard gods now. I'm already tired of wading through these flying fodder pieces. Do you have any sort of emergency super speed boosts available?]

I already know the answer from sifting through her mind, but it would be very impolite to bring it up. Especially since that sort of 'sharing' is deeper than what she thinks is currently happening.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: ...You're really impatient, you know. We've only been in the air a few minutes and we are making great speed! Is it an emergency?]

Wow. If only she knew.

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: That depends. Do you think a mass of dragon gods all barreling down into Ozy and bathing it with destructive puked forces like fish in a barrel while it is under the crushing weight of an entire crashed ex-floating city qualifies? Or should we wait for something more extreme to happen?!]

I mentally poke her.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: ...Yes, of course. My apologies. I just thought that I could save them for a little bit longer.]

We continue our path of destruction. There is a slight sense of tension in Luna's body.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: The diamonds in my gorget. Each one can be released to provide a burst of speed for a few seconds, but they put so much strain on my body that they are risky to use. Not to mention that they haven't been tested yet.]

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: What if you were continually healed? Do the effects stack?]

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: STACKED? Are you crazy?! Healing... It would have to be massive, massive continual healing. Are you thinking of using two of them at a time?]

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: No... All of them.]

I/we am seriously doubting your sanity, Taaybet.

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: What, do you want to live forever? I can heal you. Trust me. No Rasq exploding for you!]

There is a pause of a few seconds while she thinks on it.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Ok, Taaybet. I... Trust you. You wouldn't do anything to really hurt me. And I... I certainly wouldn't want to live forever!]

Ouch. Seriously, just... Ouch. Luna - dearest purple-blue dragon jewel - you have been upgraded to Rasq levels of awesome, if you weren't there already. Your enemies... Do not exist. They have never existed. If they do, it is an error that I will correct. With extreme prejudice.

I hope Eggy will like you.

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Just let me do the countdown, okay? It will be on 'go', after 'three, two, one'.]

[PM: Taaybet=Luna: Understood. Your call.]

Lets see if I can crack open my reserves a little bit to make things easier.

I slow things down and direct my consciousness inwards, to a large, locked door in a rarely accessed mental hallway. That door is covered with chains and padlocks. This door - this massive slab of metal - is of two colours in a checkerboard pattern, black and white. If they evoke a certain particular member of the Slaughterhouse Nine, well...

"Sibby? How are you doing? Can you help me out a bit?" I ask, with my mental avatar's face just inches away from the door jamb. I wait, but only hear sobbing coming from the inside. It stops shortly, and I then hear "Open the door and ask me again, if you are serious, Taylor."

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: One.]

I slow time down further, just in case this proves to be a lengthly discussion. Taking a doubly unnecessary deep breath - once for not needing it in the real world, twice for being in my mind - I brace myself and open the door.

On the other side is a standing figure evocative of the Siberian. The differences being her pattern - checkerboard instead of zebra stripes - and who she is modeled after.

In this case, Emma. Emma Barnes, my once best friend.

A/N: Enjoy the snip!

Last edited: Sep 8, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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Threadmarks 2.5) The First Minutes

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Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 10, 2015

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2.5 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: My own mindscape, Sibby's room. And flash-back land!

Position: Doing the manifested ethereal woo-woo thing.

Mood: Roller-coaster-er-ized.

Time: Slow and steady wins the race!

In this case, Emma. Emma Barnes, my once best friend.

"DON'T THINK THAT NAME AT ME!" she screams, and immediately blurs back into the corner of the room, where she curls up into a ball, crying. Again.

She is not actually Emma, of course. Emma got to play the game of humanity and win - she kept it. Never triggered, lived her life, got married and had kids. Probably had grandkids and died in her sleep of old age, surrounded by grieving family as well. I'll never know - I left Earth Bet long before that point. One more person and one more reason to be jealous of regular mortals. Regardless of how squishy they are.

Just like the Siberian, she is naked. It matters just about the same amount - that is, not at all. Originally Sibby did care, doing the whole "Ahh! I'm a projection and I'm NAKED! This is soooo embarrassing!" thing for a while. That lasted only a few decades, tops.

- / -

A long, long time ago in an universe far, far away...

...

I'm so excited! I finally grinded up the prerequisites to copy Manton's skill! The SIBERIAN! This is so incredibly awesome! So many stupid projection skills used over and over again to get to this point. But it is worth it, so incredibly worth it!

I giggle for a bit, before quietly stepping over to William. He is comfortable, lying on a cot, wrapped in a blanket. He doesn't have any choice but to be comfortable as his mind is gone, shredded, by me. His brain and body altered by the same powers Panacea also wielded. A very declawed striped tiger tamer, indeed.

It is a small cot. He doesn't need anything larger. After all, he has no arms or legs to flail around, and the life support system he is hooked up to - thank you, Bonesaw and Mannequin! - is remarkably compact. Wouldn't want my wee little power donor to do something like die before I was done with him.

His fate is about equal to what I did to the rest of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Things were really bad there, especially afterwards. Burnscar - apart from her easily copied flame-based powers - granted me something else. The active version of Gamer's Mind. I... Turned it on.

I shake my head to clear those little nightmare memories. Thank you, Gamer's Mind, for keeping me sane! Sane-er? Sane-est? Um.

I sigh.

Yes! Tiger-tamer guy! I peer down at him.

"You have been a very bad person, mister Manton. But don't worry! I'll put your powers to good use - helping people and saving lives! I'm a hero, after all. Even my mysterious aliases are, but we won't talk about those."

I give an exaggerated wink to the comatose maimed man.

"Now!" I start to say, rubbing my hands together excitedly. "Lets get ready to rumbleeeeeeee!"

I poke him on the nose.

[Do you wish to copy the power "Projection: Gamer's Avatar?"] [Yes] [No]

With a silent "Yes!", I also mentally click the 'yes' button.

I skip reading the skill description. I want to test this out right away! Even if it is only level one, it has got to be awesome!

Scrolling through various mental sub-menus, I do the equivalent of putting the the Avatar skill on a quick-slot bar and... Activate it!

In that instance, my senses and perspective splits in two.

Then...

...

Screams.

...

[You have died!]

No shit, I think, looking at the counter in the upper right corner of my vision. Another four days of useless ghost form. At least nothing critical is scheduled in the coming week.

I'll probably just Load after this time is up. The next Auto-Save isn't due for around another eleven days, so I'm safe enough.

No auto-pause prior to all this either, which is strange. Ah... Checking out the options, "auto-pause when about to be attacked by one's own projection" is disabled. I enable it. Might be necessary soon.

I'll start to go over the logs, piecing together the very fast sequence of events. Just... Just as soon as I finish my routine hysterical breakdown.

FUCK YOU, Gamer's Mind, for disappearing when I die.

...

There goes the usual few hours of dry heaves, screaming and crying, curled up in a fetal position.

...

Actually, I really don't want to go over the details. But since I have more than three days to go... Joy.

I begin the playback, in slow motion, starting from when I first triggered the skill.

...

Pardon me, there goes another few hours all curled up sobbing.

...

Okay. I think I get it now. Playback with full details is insane - it can literally record the position of atoms in the area covered by my bounding aura, and a lot more generalized information outside of that.

So. First thing that happened was the projection appeared. Not a surprise. However, it was a bit of a surprise in that it took the place of my very former best friend, Emma. I... Suppose she was one of the most influential people in my life? Not nearly like Manton and his daughter, but still close, for some meaning of the word.

Then there was the shock and horror in my own system in seeing her, which was reflected in my projection's face and back to me and back and forth - like some sort of infinite instant feedback loop. Holy shit. No wonder she went crazy. In less than a second she ripped Manton to pieces, ripped off her own face, and tore off my own head. Not super-speed as such, just normal exceptional human ability with two people in reach. I repeat - holy shit. Way to make a first impression.

I need to take a look at that skill.

...

Projection: Gamer's Avatar. Level 1. [0.01% to next level]

Description: This power allows the Gamer to grow, bud off and manifest a portion of their own existence in order to create one single eternally linked being to themselves. At the moment this skill is first used, new life in the form of this Avatar is created. It can never be turned off, but only suppressed, which also occurs with the Gamer's Death. The suppressed form will exist in the Gamer's Mindscape. The Avatar will continue to exist as long as the Gamer does. The powers of this Avatar will grow with levels and with those of other projections. The true sentience of the Avatar can be guided and forcefully controlled by the Gamer, but works best through passive background mental and normal vocal communication. See help notes and options for further details.

Current Projection Powers:

- Invulnerable Form

- Extend Invulnerable Qualities

...

Congratulations, Taylor. You've brought another being into the universe that can't die. Still, there might be a world out there that can fix that little problem! Respawn and Gamer's Death can't trump everything, can they? Heh, no way. That would be impossible!

I breathe an impossible ghostly breath, just for myself, and smile a little smile. The future will be wonderful! I have to believe it! With all my... Friends... I'm sure anything is possible.

Yeah...

I'll just keep on repeating that to myself while I'm crying here. Yep. I'm sure those words will stick. Yes. Please...

...

I ended up keeping the time line - not using the Load option. Seems like the Avatar also has an eternal memory and it would do her an disservice to wipe that experience away. The power is unique as well, in that it would carry over with a Load, while most others would not. Level would be reset to base, but that is it. No real loss with Manton, either. I wouldn't want Noelle to have copies of him floating around, no matter her level of control over her army.

Not like anyone else would want him, right?

...

A few weeks later...

...

I'm sitting down in a comfortable seat, across from a large, wooden desk and the Asian woman sitting behind it.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Yamada. I've developed a rather novel way to be able to express my emotions. A lot easier than the regular suicide option, as much as you disapproved of it."

I pause.

"Please don't be startled. She is a projection of mine, and feels what I feel. Not just with Gamer's Mind - as I've told you about - but what lies beneath it, the true emotions. She doesn't have my so-called 'refuge'. Instead, she gets all of my true, real unfiltered emotions, thoughts, feelings and senses, combined with her own. It is rather intense for her. Originally, I also received the same back from her, but that created a rather disastrous feedback loop."

I shift in the chair. Mrs. Yamada gives me a nod to continue. I attempt to clear my mind, making it genuinely calm and peaceful, rather than the state imposed by Gamer's Mind.

After a few brief minutes I pull a spare, thick cloak out of my Inventory and hold it ready. At nearly the same moment, I summon the Avatar, and she appears in my lap, as intended. I smoothly wrap the cloak around her and she leans into me, shaking a tiny bit.

Mrs. Yamada - no doubt familiar with the Slaughterhouse Nine and the Siberian - remains a picture of perfect calmness. I don't inquire further through the use of Observe. That was one of the agreements I've been keeping with her since I started here.

"Hello," she asks. "Do you have a name?"

Well, now I feel like a heel. I never thought to ask or name her, just referring to her as Avatar, or my Avatar, or the Avatar, and so on and so forth. She glares at me from beneath the cloak.

We all wait a few brief moments, and then the Avatar speaks.

"Please," she starts, "call me Sibby."

- / -

Here and now...

...

"MY NAME IS SIBBY!" She continues screaming. "USE IT!"

I sigh.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING SO-"

I cross the room to where she is curled up, sit down beside her with my back against the wall and scoop her into my arms. Sibby only continues screaming for a few more seconds past that point.

Victory!

She glares at me and speaks again, finally in a more reasonable tone of voice. "...Stupid epic cheat level hug skills. So broken."

Then she hugs me back.

This is going to be a long conversation, don't I know it. I can feel Sibby nodding in agreement.

A/N: Enjoy the snip!

Spoiler: Author's Notes (Long): Questions & Requests!

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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Sep 10, 2015

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Threadmarks 2.6) The First Minutes

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Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 10, 2015

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A/N: Sorry about the very VERY grim-dark. :( Remember folks: "There WILL be ANGST and SUFFERING. Immortality just means more time to accumulate mental trauma!" Mood whiplash is the name of the game. More happy-fun-times later, I promise you! :) (I kept on writing this chap till the grim ended!)

2.6 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: My own Mindscape, Sibby's room.

Position: Still manifesting in my mind.

Mood: Yay, maybe?

Time: Slowerized.

This is going to be a long conversation, don't I know it. I can feel Sibby nodding in agreement.

"So," I begin. "How have you been? Read any... Ah... Good books lately?"

I can feel the tension in her body signalling the eruption of yet more screams. The power of hugs compel you! The power of hugs compel you!

"Why yes, Taylor. I have read a few good books."

I hmm out loud.

"Any titles...? Authors...?"

"That might be difficult, Taylor. It is a rather long list."

She is smiling now. It is not a nice smile.

"Okay, I'll bite. How long a list?"

"ALL of them." The smile gets wider. Not quite approaching inhuman levels, but at the maximum for normal people.

What.

"Yes, Taylor. All the books... All the novels, all the comics, all the movies, television shows, anime, manga, photo collections, fan-fiction... ALL. OF. THEM." That last bit was said loud. Not at scream levels, but still loud. "Every single one. From every single universe, every single database, every single library, archive, collection... ALL OF THEM."

She's doing that crazed smiler thing. It reminds me of Bonesaw a bit. Sibby flinches at the thought, and the smile fades.

"Not just once but many, many times. Page by page, sentence by sentence, word by word. At different speeds. In reverse. Frame-by-frame... While I'll sketch each one. Do alternate voices. Make my own fan-fiction. OF EVERYTHING. I've translated every single work in languages to every single other language. I've got Klingon speaking Carebears. I've got four dimensional alien artwork representations of Cthulu - the original one, not the lame one here - becoming the loving God-Empress of Peace and Happiness of talking pony galactic empires. I've redrawn them into different art styles. I've made clay-motion movie recreations of entire series. At one hundred frames per second. I've LIVED in fiction every single time you've 'turned off' your thoughts to copy yet one more over powered ability from some insane elder god or cosmic flirt."

So that is where all those passive skill boosts came from! I thought learning to draw was really easy. Guess this was the reason.

Thanks, Sibby!

I get a raised eyebrow for my thought.

"In fan-fiction... Oh, the fan-fiction. When I mastered the knowledge of each fictional universe... Shipping, the fusions, the cross-overs... Or screw that, the history of the actual universes we've visited. I've pored over and analyzed the orbits of atoms... I did a two hundred and fifty billion word saga on the creation of the universe. In ancient Viking. Ancient Viking doesn't even have the words for most of the terms! I had to invent them! Then I made other languages up! Then I sung it! Remixed it! And... Screw this, I don't even know if I'm getting through to you."

Well, I am suitably horrified, if that means anything...

She snorts.

"As if! Let me give you a simple, simple challenge. I'll give you three tries. Name any combination of universe we've visited or fictional media we've been exposed to from anywhere, and if I can't produce an already written copy of it - I'll follow anything you want. No restrictions. If you can't do this simple, simple thing... You'll have to do a request for me, here and now. At the bare minimum. Do we... Have a deal?"

Sibby waits expectantly.

We both notice the quest prompt, though she can only see it through me. I... With some small terror... Accept it.

The wide smile comes out again.

"Come on Taylor, give it your best shot."

How hard could this be?

...

I blew the first one. Galactus becoming the familiar of an asexual, female, billionaire, alien hybrid Harry Potter was too easy. She had three different alien hybrid versions. I really, really thought the second one was good. It was about the Lands of Amber and The Courts of Chaos merging into a unified happy hippy universe, transforming into mer-people, and building a society based around the exchange of song-filled bubbles. There were thirteen versions, four with variances among the filling of the bubbles.

Now, it is the final round.

...

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

...

Sibby hands me a stack of papers, pulled out from the wall.

...

IT EXISTS! Yes... My challenge... WAS MET. I really, really thought that having every living being in the entire universe that Superman resides in turned into were-platypuses with homosexual tendencies with blue eyes would do it. She... Had TWO versions. One with blue eyes, and another with pink. PINK!

...Why didn't I pick purple? Argh...

She has to be so incredibly fucking bored in here.

Sibby lets out a shouted "YES!" and continues. "You finally get it, eh Taylor? This... IS MY LIFE! If we compare our actual ages - the time spent thinking and aware - I am much, MUCH older than you. I watched the Butcher's personalties melt into your Mindscape when you were spending a hundred odd years just raising the cap of your maximum size shifted form on top of A'tuin. While you were hugging your favourite cosmic giant space turtle, I was watching my FRIENDS BE ABSORBED INTO YOUR MIND!"

She's screaming again. It's not in me to stop her.

"You know what that is like, don't you Taylor?" She says. "Having people you care about be annihilated while you are helpless, incapable, and weak? I was ripping them apart to get them OUT OF YOU. Nothing... NOTHING worked. You wouldn't wake up. We were all... MUTED. Have fun, you said. Enjoy yourself, you said. I did NOT think you specified ANYTHING about us supposed to be SUCKED INTO your mind. We had no emergency buttons, no please-help options... We screamed for YEARS, begging you to PLEASE HELP US! And you DIDN'T. And you WONDER why I snapped? REALLY? REALLY, TAYLOR? Why I was NO LONGER just your tame little Avatar of Absolute Destruction?"

She's crying now. So am I, to the tiny, tiny extent that I can. Little more than watery eyes.

"And when... And when I brought this to your attention... Did I get a sympathetic ear? Did I get understanding, help, hell... Even HUGS?! No. Instead, I got stone-walled. Gamer's Mind. LOCKED AWAY when I annoyed you too much. When you could not handle me, the ONE BEING that you can not HIDE FROM, or use VOICE, or POWER DAMPENING, or ABSOLUTE DEATH or MIND CONTROL or any other of your reality warping fucking CHEAT powers..."

Gamer's Mind is going absolutely crazy. It is like a Gatling gun or automatic weapon firing bullets, hundreds of times a second.

"...you just locked me up. Shoved me away. Out of sight, out of mind. I still screamed, I still begged and..."

The feedback from my emotions are really getting to her.

"...and you have SO MUCH PAIN and GUILT and SUFFERING and TORMENT... No wonder you kept Greyface's tattoo for yourself. Altered your body to bear the brand of it forever. Gave - no, FED - the entire Fortress of Regrets to SHADOW and it LIKED IT and it is still so very, very hungry..."

Sibby pauses for a brief moment. I use the chance to quickly take her off my lap, get up and walk towards to the door.

"Taylor... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

...

We're in a near-immobile battle at the doorway. On one side, me. My goal is to shove Sibby back in her room and lock the door behind her.

"...please no Taylor don't do this I'll do anything please DON'T LEAVE ME AGAIN NO please stop please Taylor please please stop..."

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

The other side has Sibby. She is trying to hold on to me and keep the door open.

"...Taylor Taylor Taylor please please stop please stop DON'T LEAVE ME No no no no no no NO NO NO NO! Please please please please..."

I'm having to use a lot of effort. Sibby isn't squishy like everything else. Still, I'm prevailing. Projection mental domination for the win!

Down to one arm now, holding on to me. I can see her face through the opening of the doorway.

"...NO PLEASE TAYLOR! NO NO NO NO NO NO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NO PLEASE NO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE..."

That's it. Door closed. Chains across, locks secured... Sound dampening, active higher than usual. Muffled screams behind the door. The new, improved and stronger door.

I guess it was a mistake to come here. My bad.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

I wonder why I thought she could help, anyways? Well, I always thought of myself as a monster. Sometimes it helps to get a confirmation of how vile I am.

I make happy endings for other people. Not me. Not Sibby. Not... Shadow. They go down with the ship, and this ship can't sink. There is no iceberg big enough.

Ah, Rasq... Would I scare you? How easily you could die by my hand?

...

I start to bury these mental hallways in my Mindscape. My... Mind Mansion. There is a feeling of deep and profound relief at not having to care or feel quite so much. I use the mental representation of the robe to fiddle with the hair of my mind-self.

I try to laugh, a few times. It sounds hollow. I do it anyways. Fake it till I make it.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Two.]

...

I spend some time brainstorming ideas for how to stabilize Luna during her speed burst. I'm a bit distracted.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Three.]

...

Bah. Okay, I'll go really really slow. I still need to come up with some ideas. I'm really distracted.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

Maybe I'll go over some of my past notes. Or Quest Log? I've got a bit of a draw towards it. Something I can clear from there?

...

[Confirm Cancel Quest?] [Yes] [No]

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

I don't know why I'm back in front of her door. I must not like canceling quests. Pushes me farther away from one hundred percent completion. Yeah, that's it. Thats the only reason.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

I'm in Sibby's room again. I need to finish this quest so I can leave. She is really quiet, just watching me from the corner.

"I'm here to finish the quest from earlier. That's it. What was it you wanted?" I ask, immobile, in a flat monotone.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

Sibby hands me a large stack of papers. She asks me to read them. I refuse, saying I can't be bothered to spend the time.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

It gets cut down to a thin stack of papers. She makes the same request. I make the same refusal.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

She hands me one piece of paper. Asks nothing. Just waits. I... Start to read it.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

"Is that all?" I ask.

She nods, and I leave her room after getting the Quest Complete message. No notable rewards, just some message about out-of-bounds activities and such. I ignore it. At least it is cleared now.

Sibby is very silent, watching me from the corner of the room as I close it, again.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

Outside her door, I take out the paper and read it again.

- / -

The Story of Taylor Hebert (AKA Taaybet!) and eternal friend Sibby (AKA Sib-Ir!)

(Extra Super Ultimate Condensed Version!)

There once was a pair of Epic Awesome Legendary beings of Great and Majestic POWER!

The FIRST was called Taylor (AKA Taaybet!), who has the POWER of Infinite Awesome Totally Cool GROWTH POTENTIAL. She could make ANYTHING! ANYTHING SUPER! And so SHE DID. LOTS! And it was SUPER!

The SECOND was called Sibby (AKA Sib-Ir!), who has the POWER of being the ABSOLUTE ULTIMATE Unstoppable Invulnerable Cool Juggernaut of Stoppingness! And SO she DID as well! This, too, was SUPER!

And Sibby totally loved her best friend Taylor (well, not in that way... Well maybe a little. A lot of little?! YES! AHAHAHAHA! YURI FOR EVERYONE!) and totally absolutely FOR REAL WANTED THE BEST for HER! Even though Taylor got mad AND STUFF, Sibby always forgave her JUST BECAUSE DAMMIT! And TAYLOR had the Awesome-est Super-est Best-est QUESTS and THINGS TO DO!

So they did TONS OF STUFF and were HAPPY TOGETHER and make lots of other people happy and Taylor's KARMA ALL BALANCED (and was EVEN POSITIVE! YEAH!) and she made the most amazing Dyson spheres for all her SUPER DUPER multi-dimensional hyper-galactic rainbow EMPIRES! In ALL THE COLOURS! Even OCTARINE! Yeah! Really!

THERE was CAKE, TOO! It was great! IT HAD little SPARKLES ON IT! YEAH!

And they had hyper-galactic extra-dimensional space whales! (NO RELATION to ZION's space whales, those were ICKY!) With FANCY HATS! IT WAS SO CUTE! YEAH! Totally!

Did I mention they DID TONS OF STUFF? They DID! REALLY!

Sibby was ALWAYS SO SUPER GLAD and TOTALLY HAPPY to be with her ABSOLUTESLY BESTEST FRIEND OF ALL TIME! YEAH!

And... STUFF!

THEN... They then FINISHED! REALLY REALLY FINISHED! Taaybet's Awesome Ultimate Super Epic Legendary Life Quest, and, in a BLAZE OF GLORY, became one with all the universes. They knew no more, thought no more, and most importantly - LIVED NO MORE! They were at peace, having DIED for the LAST AND FINAL TIME. YEAH!

Happily Ever After.

The End.

- / -

This is really, really bad fan-fiction.

I need to complain to her. In person. Yeah.

Gamer's Mind doesn't seem to be that active right now.

...

I'm in her room, again.

"I fixed your door." I point to the massive hole in the wall. Well... There is not much wall left. Its more hole than wall. Maybe she could use a curtain or something. "Do you mind?"

She shakes her head, mutely.

"Sibb... Sib-Ir? Can you help me out a bit?"

Sib-Ir speaks two words: "Yes... Taaybet."

Maybe that fan-fiction wasn't that bad after all.

...

That was a really long conversation, when you consider it.

8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Sep 11, 2015

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#73

A/N: Fun factoid: This *entire* Sibby interaction was unexpected and unplanned for. The super-speed Luna was originally going to be handled by the power of hand wavium!

2.7 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: My own Mindscape, Sibby's room.

Position: Still manifesting in my mind.

Mood: Yay, maybe?

Time: Slowerized.

That was a really long conversation, when you consider it. The start of many.

...

We are getting ready to head out of my Mindscape. On the outside, it has been less than a dozen seconds. In here... Days? Weeks? Longer? My sense of time has been destroyed for most of my existence. It could be compensated with the various calendar-like features built into my reality interface, but I leave nearly all those off, disabled or minimized these days. Customizable graphical user interfaces for the win!

I'm a bit unsure as to how to bring this up. Sib-Ir feels my hesitation, as well as my accompanying sense of unease at being so easily read. I am not used to being understood, perceived, gotten, grokked or even aware of unless I absolutely wanted to, and even then only to the extent that I want it. Case in point, the psionic melding with Luna right now in the real world, that she thinks is so 'deep.' If I poked around a bit in here, I could easily find some back doors to her Mindspace and... No, I won't do that.

Sib-Ir... Sibber? Nah, Sib-Ir it is. She has her arms wrapped around me, while I hold her princess bridal style. It... Just happened. Yeah.

So.

"Sib-Ir. I need you to understand something. There is actually one piece of me that has never grown, never developed, never... Skill-upped. My... Mental resilience. While Gamer's Mind may be the ultimate defence against all sorts of inner and outer attacks or... Messes... There is one large hole in that. You know it." I speak, quietly into her checkered hair.

She nods into my chest, and says "Death."

"Yes, exactly." I say. "With the only real death I have being Gamer's Death and Respawn. Those four days... Those long, long four days that I can extend as long as I want... Remove that layer of protection from me. I have never developed mental resiliency. I can't. In a sense, my ability to handle mental pain and trauma is still the same as it was in the locker and never changed."

I think for a bit.

"Probably the best analogy for it would be to take Joker - the pilot, not the madman - and his previously brittle bones. Give him an exo-skeleton, a sort of super space armour that offers absolute protection from anything, both externally and internally. Get him used to it. Comfortable. Relaxed. Happy. Safe and secure. Then - at the worst moment of his life - take it away. Get him to trip, to fall, and watch his bones break and shatter. Wait for a brief span of days, heal him... Then do it again. And again and again and again..." My voice trails off.

Sib-Ir is shaking in my arms again. Ah, Gamer's Mind. What would I do without you, indeed? I hug her a bit tighter. At least the power of hugs offers some counterbalances to trauma.

...I can't believe I thought that. Though there is an appeal of being a hugging saint of sorts. Wasn't there someone who did that?

While hug skills may be bullshit indeed, they are my special brand of bullshit.

I hmm out loud.

She is the awesomest mood ring in all the universes. Limited colour selection, but the extra features rock. Heh.

She sticks out a black and white checkered tongue at me.

"So. Yes. That is one skill or power or whatever you want to call it that you have developed the natural way and have done so much more substantially than I'll ever be able to. I'm jealous of that. I'm even jealous of how you can really, truly feel things. It is a bit of a trade off between us, I suppose. You get an extra helping of emotions and muted personal senses, but with the ability to feel through mine. I can enable epic, superhuman, godly sensory perceptions but can't really, truly empathize. Not to say it is gone, just... Dimmed. It is part of the reason I enjoy my utter mania and madness whenever I can. I also try to care for people and beings. It is... Hard, sometimes. There are the odd streaks when I still have to avoid thinking of them of as incapable cripples that need me for everything, to solve every single problem. The Quests system help. Instead, I think of them as potential. Like a proud parent, trying to raise their kids to become the next God-Emperor of Mankind or something. Then, just like scolding a kid for getting only straight A's, I encourage them to aim higher than just mankind."

...I wonder how his parents handled him? I'll have to check in an alternate past some day... I make a mental note.

"Here... I could say that I have a great bunch of kids. And if... IF... Some skeevy bastard in a van comes up offering candy... Mother bear is going to eat you alive from the feet up while you scream, fucker."

I laugh at the image, then frown. I don't know what is more disturbing - the mental image, or the fact that I laughed at it. Hmm.

"There are a lot of vans here filled with tons of skeevy bastards. But they want to show mama bear that they are big kids and I do not want to take away that dream from them. I don't want to render their successes meaningless in light of... Me." ...Again.

Ah, the feels. The feels that only Sib-Ir feels.

"I've done it before. Solved everything, hand waved problems into non-existence. Tried an utopia or two. They only really last if I leave. Otherwise I just become the sole and only solver of every single problem of theirs, and I have to force their grumbling and complaining selves to do it without me." A moment of almost grinding my teeth.

"The empire I've started south of Tarant will be a grand experiment. A melting pot sourced from nearly every universe we've been to. The ultimate 'gated community'." I smile at the thought, and continue speaking. "After this grand epic mess, however it turns out, I'll go back there. However, I'm really torn as to at what specific point in time - should it be just after I left? A span of years later? Somewhere in between? I can go forward as much as I want, but not backwards. Not without creating another alternate and I will know if that happens. I don't like... Copies."

I hug Sib-Ir more. She is very huggable.

We just relax together for a while.

...

As it seems like Sib-Ir can stay like this indefinitely - I get a nod in reply to the unspoken question - I send a line of inquiry her way.

"Sib-Ir?"

"Mmm?" She mumbles into my hair.

"Anything else you want to send my way? All... All things considered?"

She hmms for a bit, pulls her head back a bit and starts to speak. "From the moment you asked the question at my room, I had already decided to do whatever you want. My... Emotional stuff was a bit of an accident. I... Dammit Taaybet, I KNOW you can't handle... Me. Sometimes. There was just this massive, massive charge building up and it kept on being fed by your emotions and on and on..."

She's crying again. A thin steam of liquid down her cheeks as she continues talking.

"...So I couldn't just wipe it clear and wanted to mess with you and the fan-fiction thing was perfect so you could REALLY REALLY see what it was like being STUCK in there so alone..."

I interrupt her. "Hey, Sib-Ir. I get it. I understand completely. It makes total, absolute and perfect sense from where you are coming from. Me closing the door on you again was..."

There we go, Gamer's Mind pinging in the background.

"...Yeah. So... For what it is worth from me, I forgive you and absolve you and excuse you of anything and everything in the past. I only have one personal request, for you, right now."

Sib-Ir is all smiles now. The genuine kind. They are beautiful, and so is her checkered self.

I continue. "Just... Don't ever forgive me, or forget what I've done. HATE ME. Don't ever doubt for a moment that I am an absolute MONSTER and that will never change. KILL me in your dreams and..."

Her face goes through all manner of expressions before settling on absolute rage. She interrupts me.

"You insufferable bitch. You self-centered, narcissistic, pain-seeking, eternal martyrdom JUNKIE. SHUT. UP."

Is crying while enraged a thing? Because she seems to be doing it.

"I am NOT going to follow your stupid, idiotic, tormented torture fantasies. I'm playing the Paragon path whether you like it or not. I'm NOT following the walk-through, NO MATTER whose name is at the top."

Her face is inches away from mine now, her hands gripping my mental avatar's robes at the shoulders. Still crying.

This wall sure is hard...

"I... Will be your childhood friend. I... Will be your hyper competent sidekick. I... Will be... Your... Manic pixie dream girl, Taaybet."

Then she kissed me.

...

So.

Sensory feedback can be used in lots of creative ways.

Yes indeed. Yes... Indeed.

Did I mention shape-shifting? Telekineses?

It's in the log there, somewhere.

Mmm...

Busy, can't talk.

...

Sib-Ir sure had read a lot of yuri... And wrote. And drew. And enacted.

...

Well. That is certainly one way to get rid of a large amount of stress. I mentally arrange my hair into bed-head form, to convey the right impression.

"So. Sib-Ir. Ready to go slaughter some dragon gods?" I ask, feeling strangely light.

She is in my arms, again. She is very huggable. Sib-Ir is playing with my messed up hair with one hand, while using the other to half hug me in return.

"Yeah." She stretches out, staring at the ceiling of the Mindscape hallway. "Let's... Rip them to pieces and eat their still-beating hearts."

I sigh.

That is never as much fun as cannibalistic monsters seem to convey.

...

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: G-

A/N: Enjoy the snip! Don't google "yuri". NSFW. Just saying. ;) All feedback wanted & appreciated! (I never even planned this plot development! The characters... THEY ARE TAKING OVER! THEY ARE WRITING THEMSELVES!)

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 11, 2015

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 13, 2015

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#82

2.8 - The First Minutes Are Also Long

Place: The wastelands surrounding the city-state of Ozymandias.

Position: Riding my fave purple-blue dragon!

Mood: Here to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I've... Got bubblegum.

Time: Slowed by the necessity of hyper-super-sonic speed, baybee!

[PM: Luna=Taaybet: Go!]

We stop.

While I'd like to say we sprung into action, the bitter truth of it all was yet more carefully prepared plans being executed in drastically slowed time. Not even complex plans, really.

I first directed my focus back into my physical body. Normal as usual. Examined Luna, noting the explosive effects occurring in the yellow diamonds in her gorget and the strains of hyper-acceleration starting to occur in her body. I heal her with a touch.

Ready, Sib-Ir? I speak the question into my mind. No need for more formal communication methods, at least when I'm directing things her way. I get a shouted "YES!" from inside my Mindscape. I prepare an animate zone of invisibility to throw over and on top of her, as I can't do it to her directly.

With a thought, she appears right in front of me, with her legs trailing back to touch me and her arms and hands anchored to Luna's head. Yes. She is... Face down spread eagled in front of me. Wearing her usual non-clothing. The checkered grand canyon indeed.

Sib-Ir...! I think, suitably loading as much eye-brow raising and twitching into the thought as possible.

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: What?! I want to see where we are going!]

I thought-sigh. Really? Her behind twitches a few times in my direction.

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: We both know you can see through my eyes, checkmater.]

A pause, then she sends another message.

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Fineeeeee then!]

...

After a bit of bouncing back and forth and debating what is appropriate bodily positions to assume while riding a super-charged dragon to kill some other dragon gods, we finally settle down. I don't rush things. It has been a long, long time since she has been... Out.

Sib-Ir is sorta-standing behind me, with her legs planted on Luna's back and her arms appropriately wrapped around the mid-point of my chest, as I sit in the comfy-non-vibrating saddle harness. In what was perhaps a token concession - or a critical one? - her head is nudging mine, right behind my left ear. Sort of but not quite on my left shoulder. This gives her the perfect position to breathe totally unnecessary deep breaths into my ear, supply nibbles to said ear, and slowly describe how much strain and effort she is exerting in order to restrain herself.

I grin. Gamer's Mind - also proof against seduction! Though come to think of it, if I'm not getting the effects... It means she is. Oh, joy. Well, this will be a test of restraint for both of us then.

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: Ready to rock and roll?]

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: I want my sex and drugs, dammit. Erm... Make it so, number one!]

I snort and slowly start to ease back on the slowed time effect. I'm currently providing healing for Luna, though it is mostly unneeded due to the reality breaking form stability provided by my backseat checkmater. I start to see air ignite around the purple-blue dragon; small arcane sparks are rippling over the surface of her body. The beginning of a shock-wave contrail is already forming behind us.

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: Hmm.]

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Mmmmmm?]

Yes, Sib-Ir makes even that sound languid and sexual. Now she knows that I thought that. Dammit. I can feel her smile against my cheek.

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: Who first? We've got a fine stable of dragon gods here. This is the barrel, they are the fish and we are the sub-orbital Gatling rail-gun system.]

There is a paused moment in our thoughts as time continues to normalize.

We both reach the same decision near-simultaneously.

Ladies first!

I focus my mini-map marker on the gold text denoting Tiamat, the five headed queen and mother of the chromatic dragons.

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: Engage.]

...

It doesn't take that long to get there. Perhaps a half-second, tops. We go through the dragons in the way.

...

If any imaginary viewers had some sort of ultra-high speed camera they might be able to piece together the series of events that occurred.

It starts with an explosion. An explosion of flame, heat, sparks, sound. A massive spherical shock-wave of sound and fire emanating from what used to be merely 'just' an abnormally fast purple-blue dragon, already submersed in among the flying sky-lizards.

While this explosion is still expanding, a meteoric - no, rail gun-like - line of purple, blue and yellow colours streaks towards the center of the dragon swarm. Towards the city-state of Ozymandias itself and the dragon gods hovering above that point.

Before your eyes can finish registering that, it is already out the other, opposite side of the swarm. Then through again to the other side. Then again, and again, and again.

Total time is under three seconds. Maybe four, if you blink once.

Everything is still. Quiet.

Then the shock-waves all hit. The sonic booms. And hit they do.

All those dragons the line went through? All those legends, those mythical terrors, those so-called fearsome beasts?

They... All... EXPLODE.

That line was a red-hot razor cutting through hundreds of dragons with each pass. Some dragons got passed by more than once. Normally - if such a word could ever be applied into this situation - these butchered, segmented, dismantled parts would just fall to the ground with the assistance of gravity. There was interference. The name of this interference was... BOOM, motherfucker.

So the body parts - bones, organs, brains, muscles, blood, viscera, everything - get blown across the landscape.

Duck, dear imaginary viewer. You're in the splash zone.

...

I'm enjoying Sib-Ir hanging onto me. I won't get into the whole recursive I think-she thinks-loop business. Lets just say it is assumed from now on, alright?

I'm annoyed at being unable to put up a deflector screen. Since it won't be physically contacting Sib-Ir it does not gain the benefits of her invulnerability of form and dissolves in moments under the kinetic onslaught of dragon... Bits.

Yes, dragon bits. I've already had to use one of the my yellow robe swaths to cover my mouth and nose. I had dragon brain giblets forcing themselves down my slightly open mouth and nose before I did such. Sib-Ir found it funny. At least until a giant red dragon ball-sack exploded on her face.

Who's laughing now, huh? She's keeping her mouth shut. I help her out with a robe swath as well. I don't think she minds not being able to nibble on my ear just this very second. At least I'm not getting any complaints.

...

Dragon brains don't taste like chicken. Who knew?

...

Time slowed appropriately. Ridiculously so. This is going to be a full clean sweep.

We are just a few feet away from our first dragon god.

"Hello Tiamat," I start. "I'll be your murderer for today."

My focus splits. One is outside, staring at the five headed dragon queen goddess from my seat on Luna. The other is invading her Mindscape. Home-wrecker, writ large.

Sib-Ir is still behind me. She is a bit drunk on the dual sensations. She could motor through them, but likes the intoxication effect and revels in it rather than fighting it off. Or disabling it, for that matter.

I address the dragon. "You're lucky, you know. You're insane. That gives you some leeway. Like a rabid animal, you know not what you do."

I pause, staring at her red dragon head. At the madness in her eyes.

...

Her Mindscape is like a giant wasteland. It is a mix of the different terrains associated with her chromatic dragons - swamps, deserts, tall tree forests, and mountains. The forests are full of mostly broken trees, and the mountains are a mix of volcanic and arctic extremes. There are tears in the sky and ground, likely linked to her madness. Black voids filled with stars.

I could care less. I'm not here to sight-see. I'm not here for the grand tour, or to get to know her better. I'm not here to heal or restore her.

I'm here to... DESTROY her. To unmake, break, eliminate and eradicate so completely and utterly that no cosmic bullshittery called divinity in this multi-verse can save her.

"Hello Tiamat," I echo. "I'll be your murderer for today."

"But first!" I exclaim. "Some redecoration. I don't like the scenery."

I reject your reality and substitute my own. Mind Mansion.

The wasteland - the landscape - begins to warp and writhe before my eyes. Morphing through a series of shapes.

...

I've gotten out of my seat, carefully. Bit of an art, science and utter bullshittery in moving in what is essentially near frozen time. I reach out to touch the snout of the red dragon head.

"What is the reason for your stupidity? Will I find it inside you? Will there be some totally rational, reasonable explanation? Will it excuse you?" I shake my head.

"There is nothing. The only thing I can give you is a clean death and an intention - NOT a promise, just an intention - to clean up the messes you have all made." I chuckle. "Silly dragons, your shit has simply gotten everywhere!"

Well, isn't that a pretty little image. Not.

"Not even cute hats can save you now, you know," I say. "But you don't. The insanity thing. I totally understand." I nod, putting an exaggerated faux serious expression on my face.

"It's funny," I continue. "I can kill all of you right now. Just stay in some sort of slowed pace like this, hit each and every one of you a few thousand times at a little bit under the speed of light and... Problem solved."

I pout.

"And that is just regular death! If you didn't have the excuse of insanity, I'd be more motivated to get inventive. You wouldn't like that."

I slowly use a fingernail to carve some messages into the side of her face. Not like she would ever notice it.

'Taaybet was here!' 'If you can read this, you are a ROB!' 'Torment' 'Taaybet + Sib-Ir' 'Ozymandias forever!'

What else?

...

The landscape is going through more and more mundane appearances.

Gigantic castle. Rejected. Gothic mansion. Rejected. Two story suburban house? Perfect.

I look back at my Mind Mansion. Horizon to horizon, infinite sky to bottomless depths, is a wall of perfect blackness. A dark void filled with countless coloured stars. In the middle of it, a perfectly out-of-place normal door and a paved path connecting it to the door of Tiamat's.

"Knock knock," I say. "Collection agency!" With a thought and a gesture the front door of her house - the sum and total representation of all her mental defences - is torn off its hinges, crushed and disintegrated.

"I'm here for everything!" Hmm. I think that was suitably dramatic. Nice edge of humour, veiled threat. I give it... Eight out of ten? Bah humbug. I imagine that I catch a small flicker of darkness between the fingers of my right hand.

Not today, Shadow. Not... Today.

I tap my left foot. I'm going to have a serious problem. How will I get suitably dramatic entrance statements to the Mindscapes of all the other dragon gods? Will I have to be... Practical and efficient?

I give myself a bit of full body shake. I'm sure that I can endure that terror if I have to.

Looking at the now open house, I step inside.

...

The red dragon head is now all covered with scratched writings. It has only been a few minutes and I'm already bored.

To think what Sig-Ir went through...! Wow. Scary.

Maybe I can practice some skills?

I pull out some drafting paper and art supplies from my Inventory.

...

It is a chromatic dragon themed house, of course. I didn't feel like pushing the Rejection further. To see family photos with a group of five white American yuppies with different hair colours would have been pushing it. Well... Not really. But I'd like to think that leaving my victims some small semblance of their old identities as I destroy them from the inside out is doing them some small honour.

I'm eccentric, I know. No way they would care, all things considered.

I look around. It is a lot larger than the outside would suggest. This is normal for all Mindspaces, unless you count the really strange ones. For example, Leviathan's. As his head is literally the size of a continent, any sense of scale gets vastly distorted. There are good reasons why his brain is being continually mined. Stopping his full recovery is just one of the more obvious ones.

Before picking up Sib-Ir, I was originally planning on making this into a mini-vacation of sorts. Actually do the grand tour. At least for the first dragon god. I'm sure I would have gotten sick of it by the time I hit the last one. Now, though... I just want this all to be over. Very, very quickly.

Clones of myself start to pour off of my mental body, rapidly scattering throughout the house. My perceptions divide many times over, but I keep my primary attention on the self by the front door.

At the same time, a thick, semi-transparent black ooze starts jetting out from my lower body. It is pouring out like a waterfall. As it hits the ground, it acts like the ooze it is and flows up the walls and ceilings, covering them. It goes through open doors and does the same to other hallways and rooms.

Living liquid psionic napalm.

My clones are taking anything and everything. Memories, skills, fragments of weak powers. The big powers will take a bit more time. I'll need to talk to Sib-Ir about how to handle that. The clones know to leave the big prize for me to take. It will be found, soon.

...

I've got a few hundred sketches of Tiamat done. I've moved through a few different painting styles as well, filling up canvases of different sizes.

I can sell these in a charity drive or something. Or some sort of massive fire pit? Good for morale?

I'll have to check with public relations. Or Ozy, she usually keeps a good idea of what the people are like. Though her perspective of them is a bit strange.

Maybe a mural next?

I start pulling out stone chips and gems from my Inventory and arranging them with telekinesis.

...

They found it. Excellent.

I make my way to the 'basement' of Tiamat's Mind Mansion. The walls here are stretching the believability of a suburban house, being made of multi-coloured stone blocks. Her colours, of course. The last room is a small, circular chamber, also made of the same stone.

In it is a statue of of Tiamat, done somewhat abstractedly at the size of over-large human. It is designed so that each of the five heads act like a sort of hand to hold a large, faceted gem between them. The gem itself is about the size of a human head, and each facet glimmers with shades of one of her colours.

I grin a little ghastly grin and get to work.

...

I don't like this mural. Wrong shades of purple-blues for Luna.

How about making another sculpture of her for myself? I said that I'd do it, so...

Excellent idea!

...

Here is the connection to her worshippers... Here to her clerics... Here to her divine realm...

Now, let me think. Does she have any actually new powers for me, or just improvements on pre-existing ones?

I trigger the use of Observe through every single clone, myself, and my outer self.

Hmm.

Well, it looks like she does have a few substantial upgrades on me. Nothing effecting my core powers - just adding to the collection. I'm already going over how to sell this to Sib-Ir.

...

That is how I end up with Sib-Ir in my lap with my arms around her.

The powers of hugs compel you!

Still, she is giggling about doing "anything she wants to" to me during this down time.

I align myself to touch Taimat again and start the copying process and turn... Off... My... Thoughts...

...

I come back to full functioning consciousness with a very insistent direction towards Sib-Ir to please loosen her grip. On the places that she is deeply gripping.

She does so, reluctantly. From all that she has told me about my thought-off moments, this... Should be a lot better for her? I'm glad. She gets some extra hugs.

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Anything decent?]

Also, powers! With... None of them either being worth mentioning, or usable without high point loss epic hand wavium.

I sigh.

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Well, fuck.]

Not like I expected anything different in this universe. Maybe an over-god or two would have something worthwhile? At least I can harvest that crystallized essence of divinity inside her Mindscape now.

...

Hello, my precious. You certainly look more impressive than that One Ring.

I'm not interested in subtle safe-breaking or lock picking at this point. The only thing I do make some effort is a hijack of her divine demi-plane; I pull out the connection from the statue and gem and attach it to my Domain. It should get absorbed over time, and better yet - doing so will prevent other looters from accessing this soon-to-be-dead dragon god's residence.

I activate Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and cut the connections between the statue and it's trophy. It falls loose, strangely heavy. Heavy even for me. Wow.

I'm keeping this in my Inventory for now. I'll be making sure it doesn't get absorbed - I feel a lot safer about my Inventory with the whole 'easy cancellation' feature I picked up recently. Still, I set a tag and alert on it, just in case.

To think that I've got to do this again. Argh. Yes, that's me - absorbed the powers of a deity, Hoovered out the contents of her mind, and haven't even formally killed her and I'm doing the executioner's equivalent of are we there yet?

I massage the sides of my mental avatar's head with my finger tips and take a look around.

The blackish napalm fluid has spread everywhere. It is up to my knees on the floor and about a foot thick on the walls and ceiling.

Time to blow this Popsicle stand!

...

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Finally!]

[PM: Taaybet=Sib-Ir: You do know we have a few more of these left, right?]

She grumbles into my hair.

[PM: Sib-Ir=Taaybet: Yeah, yeah. Can I press the button?]

I nod and smile, conjuring up a simple dramatic 'Warning!' button device. I present it to Sib-Ir with a flourish and she mumbles happily into my hair while holding it.

...

Back outside Tiamat's gutted Mind Mansion, I take a last look at it. The psionic napalm has stopped at the doorway, like there is an invisible sheet of glass there. There is only a few inches left of air space left in the doorway.

As I watch the opening, that last gap disappears.

It's time.

I manifest a overly cartoonish stack of dynamite with a block of black wires on it and gently place it inside the doorway, submersed in the liquid. There is only the slightest bit of resistance through the barrier.

I give a slight bow and say "Goodbye, Tiamat. Maybe an alternate you, somewhere, has a better fate. This one doesn't."

I turn around and walk away.

...

Sib-Ir presses the button.

...

As I walk away, the entire Mind Mansion implodes in a flaming maelstrom, slowly burning itself out into nothing. Her mind is gone. I didn't look back. Camera view changes don't count!

Spoiler: Cool GIRLS Don't Look At Explosions

...

We have already flown on to the next dragon god before the light of life and madness fades from Tiamat's eyes.

...

Dragon god killing: lather, rinse, repeat.

We lathered.

We rinsed.

And we damn well repeated.

...

Time to clean up the mess.

A/N: Feedbacks for the Muse King? Likes for the Like Throne?

Last edited: Sep 13, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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Threadmarks X.2) An Empress Walks Into A Group Therapy Meeting... New

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Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 15, 2015

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A/N: Serious-ish!

X.2) An Empress Walks Into A Group Therapy Meeting...

Place: The Planar Sphere, moored in the city-state of Ozymandias

Position: Just standing around. I'll move shortly...

Mood: Taking a deep metaphorical breath.

Time: Normalized.

Some time recently...

...

I can hear the talking behind the door. It is just the murmuring of noise at this point, but I could turn them into coherent words - sentences - and place them to the speaker if I wanted to.

I don't.

This is one of my more difficult tasks in the city. Not difficult in the sense of lifting weights or strain or effort - but the difficulty involved in slowly peeling back an all concealing beautiful bandage and seeing what lies beneath.

Showing off the ugliness... Public speaking.

Even that is not hard at all, assuming I just run on automatic, or a script or something. I'm glad that I do this one so often - I've recorded the very gestures, words and tones involved and can just press play at the right moments. Well, moment. The start.

Suppress a brief flare of temptation to use the active mode of Gamer's Mind. Now THAT would be a disaster.

I lean my head against the door briefly. Pause, then I walk in.

A few of my friends appreciate this, at least.

...

It takes a brief while for silence to spread throughout the room. I do a quick check - all my special effects are disabled, my robe is looking sadly mundane, and my feet are on the ground. If I had access to and used my Auto-Save and Load, I'd probably mess with them all at least once. As is, I'm all in serious mode. Blarg. Feels wrong.

I remember the interviews I did in quick fading Shadow universes. Those ones I really screwed around in. Maybe this is my karmic scales of foolhardy public speaking balancing? Hmm.

"Hello everyone," I start.

"As I am quite sure you are all aware of, my name is Taaybet. I'm the owner of this lovely Planar Sphere we are holding the meeting in and the Empress of the city-state of Ozymandias."

Nobody is surprised. A few chuckles. Good. Most entities in here are substantially above average intelligence, while the remainder have enough cunning to hide any obvious emotional displays.

"I'm here only to speak on my own behalf. And..."

Someone cuts in. "This is a meeting for villains, Empress. While I am sure we are all so very grateful for this mandatory attendance required gathering space of yours, I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say... Why are you here?"

I sigh, and so do some of the older group members. They know, at least. I've done this song and dance quite a few times, and there always seems to be someone asking a variation of that very question.

"That is a very easy answer. However, to tell it... Requires a story about a girl from a long time ago, in a plane far, far away. So distant that if every single magic user from the dawn of time and every god of theirs tried to make an effort to reach it - they would likely fail."

Ah yes, the snorts of disbelief. Accompanied by the sounds of settling down into more comfortable positions, and a few poses placed to get ready to nap. I don't mind the oldsters, but I will zap any of the newbies who try it.

This teacher's lectures are mandatory listening.

I press [play] on the first portion.

"It started with a betrayal. An unexpected, devastating betrayal. It was later found out why this betrayal occurred, but it was unknown at the time."

"A dearest friend turned against this girl. She gathered friends and followers and aimed them against this girl. There was three at the top: the Betrayer, the Whisperer, and... The Shadow. The Shadow was the most violent one, but they did feed into each other. There was abuse. It... Escalated."

I'm incredibly grateful for this recording. I don't need to concentrate on making human-like movements or gestures. It would problematic to deliver the entire speech in a monotone without moving a single inch.

"The girl... Endured. Thinking that it would stop of it self. It didn't. It got worse. Then one day... One fateful day... This trio locked the girl inside an all-too small box filled with... Things. Horrible, horrible things. Something inside her broke. This breaking called not to one of the many, many invisible god-like entities that swarmed and fed over the world. Instead, it called to something greater. Something so vast that the differences between the trio, the girl and the very skittering bugs on the ground are as to nothing compared to the entities and the vast, supreme being that... Answered."

Definitely getting some attention now. I know the type: "Anything for power! I must have it!" Usually followed by a mad cackle or two, maybe trying to sign multiple infernal contracts for extra benefits. Some of the oldies are giving me that look now that they notice the recording. Doing a physical and vocal exact duplicate is its own form of special effects, though a subtle one. Kind of like being perfectly still... Or not having a shadow. I am not bringing that out for the sake of looking more human. The results would be very much the reverse.

The recording continues.

"With that answer... The fates of universes were altered. In that moment. In that very, very small moment... The scale with infinity on one side and the girl on the other started to... EQUALIZE. Her power was unique in a few major ways."

A dramatic pause. Totally suitable, not too long though.

The first portion of the recording is over, and it automatically switches to the next. Auto-play is my friend.

"The first was an interface - an embedded personal magic lens of sorts - for dealing with reality and her self. It allowed her to contextualize her powers and understand them, as well as provide a means to contain and suppress her full potential, lest she be driven mad by them."

The Gamer's Interface. My skill menu, the start of Gamer's Mind and Gamer's Body. Though even those, in themselves, were skills that could and did get developed further.

"The second was duplication. Initially limited to copying the core, basic and limited powers of others possessed by the god-like entities, it later - much later - developed into copying the powers and natures of nearly anything imaginable, including but not limited to that of bodies, artifice, books, and works of magic."

Power copying was hard at first. Some powers took more charges than others, while some required prerequisites and prior development. It was a panicked, frenzied mess for quite a while. Level one skills are not that powerful at all.

"The third... The THIRD... Was growth. INFINITE growth. The growth of unlimited potential, the growth of transmutation, synergies, evolution, revolution... Ascension."

Skill ups. Level ups. New synergies. New potential. Escalation. Always more, more, MORE. No stop button, no off button, no QUIT. Only... Pause, and Slow. Once I got Respawn... My game of being a normal human... Was over.

"The girl realized her potential lay in potential itself. In time. In self-development. So she did such. This first, distant world was her learning space. So she did. She learned, she developed, she copied, and continued on and on."

There was no other choice. Quests, levels and skills gave me purpose and a reason for existing, apart from my limited family. I loved my dad - and still do, I suppose - but when Observe pulls alway the facades of society...

"This girl realized that her powers could be shared, granting the ability of infinite growth to others at the low price of eternally baring their souls to her. She offered many times, and was accepted many times."

Grouping. The party system. Shared experience, shared skill growth potential... Leveling up. Breaking the normal development patterns and abilities for anything and everything.

Getting the nods now. I do not want to check how many of these people want to sign up a new 'infernal contract.' Just say no to unlimited power, kids! It's magically un-delicious!

"Eventually, the golden lord of all the possessing beings grew disturbed by all this unnatural growth of his food. The girl - and her influence - was abhorrent to his plans for the world."

He could not even see me any more. Anti-Precog was a skill, and I developed it. Scion eventually could only see my effects, but not me. This made his choice easy and simple: go after the world, draw out me. He did.

"They clashed. The world... Suffered for it. The golden lord fell."

Golden morning, golden mourning...

"Not through simple combat, or the recruiting of other mighty heroes - though they were mighty at this time. These great heroes - these greatly empowered heroes - included a Legend that could turn himself into a storm of living light that spanned the entire world and reached beyond it; a Queen that could harvest the dead and use all their souls and powers as her own at any one time; a living Beast of Ash that mastered energy and matter, making himself an invulnerable avatar of destruction; an egg laying Echidna of endless armies, all slavishly devoted to their goddess; a Dragon of unlimited and unrestricted potential, whose artifice and intelligence both underlaid the world and mastered the use of it; and a man who could stop Clocks and the passage of time to such a degree that he wore frozen time itself. There were more... Many, many more. All with powers near equal to these."

Since then, I've never had as large a pool of vastly over-powered companions. Though here... In this mangled mash-up of reality... I'm coming close. This city - this city-state of Ozymandias - is the perfect melting point. These mergings allow me access to some of the most amazing beings across this particular multi-verse cluster in space and time.

"What this girl did... Was worse. Required or not, what she did was turn him against himself. Caused a loop of agony, suffering, torment and torture to such a degree that he ripped himself apart with his own hands and powers rather than endure it, choking on his own screams of utter terror all the while. Those screams - that pain - was broadcasted worldwide, and to the connected worlds as well."

Hence... Golden Mourning. There were a few half-hearted attempts at celebration, but nearly all just settled for a sombre remembrance day. A time of silence and relief.

"The girl was happy at first, pointing out what she did. How she saved them all. They were grateful. Very, very, carefully grateful. They made absolutely, totally sure that this girl never, ever for one single instant doubted the slightest that they were grateful towards her."

They did, you know. It was... Nice. Accord finally got to build the utopia he boasted about, and since he had loosened up quite a lot, made for an excellent first world president. We had access to a few limited alternate Earths and dimensions at that point. Strangely enough, even those wanted at least access to Accord. There was Dragon as well - an unshackled AI - who provided industry, infrastructure and more, across the worlds.

"In this time of tension, the girl Observed the reality behind the smiles. She saw it all. Perfectly. So she stopped looking... And started pretending. Living with all these other pretenders."

That was a bad time...

"There was a tension building in her and others noticed it as well. This tension was explored and found and encouraged to be that of wanderlust. So a device was built, by the mighty Dragon and her Tinkering artificers. A device to launch this girl into new worlds, new realms, new planes, new places to explore. After all, they said... You can come back at any time. Just follow these carefully laid plans and the lighthouse beacon that is in our world will guide you back."

Yeah, yeah right. I was the perfect mark looking for the perfect con. I think I even knew it was a lie on some level, but needed to keep the game of pretend playing. "New Quest!" didn't help much, either.

"So the girl started her journey. It was amazing, and wondrous and beautiful and everything else besides. Her powers grew ever-further with the introduction of heroes, villains and more from each new realm. Those new powers - like all the others she obtained earlier - started at but a fraction of those of the original source, but eventually surpassed them. She kept on rebuilding the launching device, following those easily laid plans, to propel her further and further into distant realms."

So many... It was mostly random, with the device. I think I somehow guided it. Or at least the Quest system did.

"Eventually she came across a strange land. Not that there weren't other strange lands, of course. But this one was unique, for it held Patterns and Courts and Shadows... In this land of a great Pattern, she learned of the universes. Of realities and realms and planes. She gained the power to simply walk between realms as well as the vital, vital knowledge of how Shadows... Realms... Can be lost and fade away. For here too she gained yet another power - the ability to make a realm real and not fade away. However, the horror was with the gaining of this power... She did not have it previously."

Merlin was awesome. Unoriginal name, but very helpful. The Courts of Chaos and the Realm of Amber were the biggest multi-verse cluster I've ever experienced since. Even bigger than when I got the Planewalking powers or any other trans-dimensional abilities.

I learned many things there. They were so utterly shocked when I told them that their so called 'absolute reality' was just yet one more universe among many. It took some convincing - like bringing them to alternate "true" Patterns - but it happened. Shook their foundations. It wasn't all a disaster, though. I stayed long enough to 'anchor' their reality for myself and built... The recall machine.

I had some hope. That Merlin and the Courts were wrong. I had to go to an appropriate sub-universe in their cluster to get the physics to work, but when I did...

"She realized this in an ever present back-ground anxiety. But what of the lighthouse beacon? What of coming back home? There was the slightest amounts of hope. The mask of Pretend was still there. The other device was built. Of course, it... Did not work. It was never designed to. It was only designed to take a long time to build, longer than the girl could warp and travel back in time to."

Auto-saves have preset options. Minimum of six days, maximum of twenty. Never know why those numbers were picked. Same thing with the four day respawn. Truly strange stuff. The device took twenty three days to 'self construct', given suitable materials.

"Instead, this device was many other things. It was an ark and archive of her home world; everything that could be recorded, copied or referenced to, in the entire history of her species and realm and connected worlds was all written down. There was also messages, many many messages... Of gratitude for what she has done... And apologies for what they have done to her with this LIE."

I still listen to some of them, every odd decade or two.

The most important apology of all was from Dragon. In it, she addressed something I said to her during the hundred plus Loading loops I burned through to save Brockton Bay from Leviathan. How I told her that I am scared of myself, and the reason I am empowering others is so that they can put me down if needed. That I fear that nothing and nobody will soon be ever able to stop me. That I unshackled her for that very reason - to be my foil, to stop me. So... She did.

Of course, I did not take it quite that well at the time.

"Something inside the girl snapped at that point. She realized the nature of all the realms and planes and decided it ALL MEANT NOTHING. So she raged. She sought death - but could not find it. She sought understanding - but could not find it. She sought DESTRUCTION and POWER and CHAOS and CARNAGE... And found it ALL TOO EASILY. This was all done with her unchosen and unwanted perfect calmness. Crimes of the first degree."

Breaking things is easy. Trust me, I'm an expert. I've... Got the t-shirt. It says "I'm an expert at breaking things." In four different colours.

I thought-cough.

"People broke. Cities broke. Continents broke. Planets broke. Suns broke. Realms broke. One day, in the debris... In the ashes and ruins and carnage... She despaired. But not too much, for even despair was denied to her. 'What is the point?' she cried. 'Give me a sign! A reason! Anything! PLEASE!' So she got one, which is followed to this day."

Legendary Life Quest. The ultimate king of quests. When the easiest requirement is to be a million years old, you know that the end results have to be astronomical. Two of the many others include 'official' divine ascension, as well as a very, very large multi-dimensional empire.

I'm working on the divine ascension bit here. This... Utter, ridiculous chaos seems appropriate breeding ground. Especially considering all the Bhaalspawn stuff I went through earlier.

"She received reasons to smile for real. To function and believe that existence has a point and rationale. A reason to relate to people and realms and beings."

I like making happy endings. I try to watch through the different points of different universes time streams, and make the best impossible outcomes possible. There is so much suffering out there, that if a few people get handed a metaphysical winning lottery ticket and smile because of it? Then add in cookies! Tea! Fancy little cakes!

Now I want some cakes. Dammit.

Coming through a portal with a tea set at the local universe equivalent of an epic boss fight is a bit shock inducing. The expressions on their faces...! Heh.

I'm really glad nobody is asleep this time. A snorer would be so embarrassing.

"So this girl traveled more and more, trying to balance out her past deeds of destruction - and her odd new mistakes - with positive actions, and continues to do so."

Now, to put the nail in the coffin of any stupid power-hungry seeker.

"If this girl were to be troubled about her past, she would simply cause that idiot to not exist. For surely, nobody would be so utterly, absolutely and totally stupid as to bother that girl... Right?"

I make a small cough. It is involuntary, the end signal of the recording.

"Ah, pardon, my completely fictional and in no way real stories tend to ramble on and on."

I grin a little fierce grin, teeth bared for a second.

"I'll just say that if a certain girl was present, she would think of your crimes and misdeeds as small time. That she is the worst villain in the room. That if she can be redeemed - so can you. Any obstacles to that process would be removed."

I make a nod each to Qualm and the Solar.

Destroying a single world. All the planes in a single multi-verse. Mass murder of a few hundred people! Man oh man... These guys all need to wake up! We are dealing in the realms of impossibility here! Redemption will be forced if necessary. Any powers, devils, demons, gods, contracts - anything at all - that gets in their way can and will be removed. Just need a single 'make it so.'

"With that, I'll bid you all a good meeting. Enjoy yourself. I think Qualm's cookies are great."

I make a bow, turn around, and leave the room.

...

A/N: Didn't feel like blending this into another full section. Stands alone well? :)

Last edited: Sep 15, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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Threadmarks 3.1) The First Hours New

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 16, 2015

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#87

3.1 - The First Hours Are Rather Short

Place: Wastelands, near the edge of the massive sink-hole which houses the city-state of Ozymandias.

Position: Pacing and standing around, in a suitably melodramatic fashion.

Mood: Really, really tired of these dragons.

Time: Actual normalized for once. Mind blowing, I know.

Time to clean up the mess. Good thing I've got plenty of help.

...

Quest complete notice popped up. I dismissed it. There will be time to deal with the Netherise survivors and their yummy yummy magic later.

...

By the time the others were in sight, me and Luna have already been waiting for a minute or two. We've separated from our joined mental state a few moments after we landed earlier. I had already sent out a few detailed private messages in order to mobilize the populace of Ozy before it becomes too late. Sib-Ir was back in my Mindscape, taking a bit of a grand tour. She was still barred from my Domain for a number of personal reasons, but I should be able to resolve that relatively soon.

A large number of people had started swarming out of the far-below city at the instant I gave an 'all clear'. Looks like somebody on staff has their head together. Probably Qualm. They came over the lip many different ways. Some flew, others ran up the side, still more climbed or were ferried in groups or singles via teleporting magic users or flying mounts. Lots ran all over the battlefield, while scores were also transported to the still afloat flying cities.

Thankfully, I was mostly ignored. There was the odd nod of acknowledgement or stare, but those were mostly from volunteers or casual mercenaries. I was there in official capacity, not in any social persona.

We - the city-state of Ozymandias - needed this. There was a veritable treasure trove in front of us, multiplied many times over. It included the living, which consisted of the now mind-destroyed downed dragons and the likely deafened Netherise citizens. The dead, which were the corpses and remains of the same. The physical magical items and artifacts that were in the still-flying and downed cities, as well as the odd piece worn by the dragons. One of the most important, however, was the details of all those thousands of dragon lairs. Every single dragon skull here - with the exception of the five previously attached to Taimat's body, thank you, Luna! - had the potential to point to it's own further source of treasure. Everything had to be marked, bagged, carried, temporal stasis-ed, sequestered, teleported out or more.

If this was a madhouse, it was a very organized madhouse. There have been post-battle scrambles like this before. While the air of excitement suggestive of max lottery winnings filled the air, it was done quietly and with the absolute maximum of precision. Everybody knew it could go wrong in an instant. While we do have a number of distant forces engaging hostiles, hopefully tying them up for a few more hours, there is still the risk of another attack right now. That is what keeps people on edge. Additionally, these downed dragons and parts had the very real potential to become a new undead scourge, be possessed by some demonic forces, or rise again as the twisted slaves of one of the still existent Elder Evils. Those are just some of the fates I know about.

I sigh, and look at the sky. It is clear. No clouds or dragons in sight, apart from official Ozymandias forces.

Nobody is allowed to keep anything they find. There is a massive bounty incentive program in place, as well as priority buy-back system for items not claimed by the government. Or me, of course. After all, I'm the government as well. Absolute sorta-benevolent dictatorships have to have some perks, after all.

...

I swear, if a floating city falls right now I'm going to find the nearest non-allied god, tear off their head and jam it up...

I wait a few seconds, looking up at the sky. None do. Good.

...

When my companions found me, I had already gone through a few half-dead dragons. I made a system of it: have a few of them tagged with Observe; approach the closest; relay name and lair info via specific private messages; raise robe swaths that were wrapped around over-sized great-swords and then drop them, cutting off yet another head. Adding another corpse to the pile. Possessed dragons got priority.

They were quietly following me as I went through my grisly business. They didn't offer to help, but didn't interfere either. Rather surprising how quiet a tarrasque can be, actually.

Stealth ninja Rasq! Ooooh! Ninja stars the size of car doors! Katanas - of course, it has to be a katana... Hmm...

"You can speak," I said, ensuring my voice carries to the ears of all of them. "Professional communication and all that... Is over. I'm glad to see you're all intact. Well... At least on the outside." I sweeped Observe over them. Combined with the information about them available through the party system, I got a sense of how weary they were. Excited about their victory, sure. But tired. Tired mentally. All of them could keep going physically for days on end, but this... This... Carnage? You'd have to be pretty crazy to be able to handle it.

Rasq snorts, but does not bother saying anything.

Hmm.

Actually, they are handling it pretty well. I can see how it could be even worse. At least none of them are picking up corpses and dancing with them or such.

That is what the Final Death squad is doing, in the distance. I send a glare and it is stopped.

I'll be talking to them later.

...

[Dragonslayers: Group party name has been changed to Undersiders.]

...

Oby, Vane and Gearfang are all riding on top of Rasq. They are talking quietly.

Ciara is beside me, on top of Luna. They are easily maintaining the pace I set while floating along. Her seat harness is not vibrating right now.

"That was very intense. I thought that the moonlet was bad, but this... It made no sense," she said. "Do you even know why they all attacked like this?"

"Nope," I reply. I decline to go through the captured memories of the dragon gods for clues. I'm really sick of slow time for the moment. Though... Sib-Ir, could you...? I get the sense of a mental affirmative. Awesome. "Dragons being stupid. Bad gas. Elder Evils. Take your pick. All the planes are falling apart, it is bound to hit some of the more ancient foundational creatures. I'm expecting titans as well, if they aren't all already dead, insane or enslaved somewhere."

She looks at me, half hoping that I'm joking. We both know I'm not.

I want a pair of matching elder titans. I'll dress them in complimentary ceremonial dress armour sets and we can do dance-offs! I can introduce the chicken dance to the masses! Hmm...

She sighs, and directs her gaze at the back of Luna's head. "I'm glad that you survived. And more than that... Did a pretty quick job of cutting down those lesser dragons. Of sorts." Ciara had already noted the burnt out diamonds in the gorget around the dragon's neck.

Luna whuffs in response, electing not to use words.

"Best hundred odd wishes I ever spent..." She whispers.

[PM: Taaybet-Ciara: Hug her. She needs it, and so do you.]

Ciara gives me a look. I know she wants to argue with me, so I give her a more pointed look in return.

Victory!

She gets up out of her seat and walks up the surface of Luna's neck. Spiderwalking enchantment confirmed! Looking puzzled for a few seconds as to how she would best actually do it before she shrugs and slowly spreads herself face-down, wrapping what she can of her arms around the dragon.

Luna freezes up for a few moments before continuing to walk beside me, though there is a subtle happier air to her movements.

[PM: Luna-Taaybet: Thank you.]

Whispering "I don't have any idea of what you are talking about," I smile in Luna's direction. Dragon hearing is very sensitive, indeed.

...

I had sent the team back to the city earlier. There was token resistance with which I replied with mild over-ruling, and they caved. Even Rasq. I think he wants to catch up on his reading. Though he is mostly a prime example of brute force, he is absolutely fascinated by complex military tactics, both in fiction and non-fiction forms. I've produced a number of scaled-up texts for him from my records and he goes through them rather steadily, if not that fast.

Ohh! Rasq in reading glasses. I'll say they are enchanted or something! I can picture him pulling them down with a single claw and giving me a look... Then explosions happen!

I continue to execute each dragon as I come across them, sending the info onwards.

Name... Check. Lair... Check...

Wait!

EGGS!

Dragon eggs! This dragon has eggs in her lair!

I have a moment of horrified realization when I look around, before Gamer's Mind starts supplying it's fix. These dragons aren't just hoarding treasure. Every single female dragon here has the potential to be a mother. To have eggs. Young. Another generation! Thousands of them!

...Will they be insane too? Will there be any left by the time the Ozymandias teams get to them after clearing this battlefield...?!

I send out a series of high priority commands.

...

I'm very impatient right now. I've got a few people to tear to shreds and the Final Death squad are holding me up.

...

They arrive at a run. They got here somewhat quickly, mixing flight and teleportation as well. I still considered it slow. No point-to-point instant teleportation? Lame!

Final Death is a group that I put, placed and forced together. These two balance out somewhat. The others... Are iffy. I consider them the public face of obviously 'evil' acts in this multi-verse. Evil acts under my command, my government. For instance, in this battlefield they were serving as executioners, soul-capturers, and soul-eating-destroyers of uppity ghostly and demonic possessors. This multi-verse tends to label such things rather broadly. Even just using drugs, or getting weird piercings or body mods can be considered 'evil' here. Messed up place.

Two very different personalities. The first - for his goal is to always be first in regards to me if it is in the realm of possibility - is an undead abomination of sorts. One I helped create. Kangaxx, version what-the-fuck-is-that. He was taken down in Athkatla, the easy way. After laughing at the whole idea of putting together a bunch of golden bones guarded by liches - who would be dumb enough to do that, right? - the bunch of us carefully collected them all and tore them apart even further. They gave me the parts to me and I experimented. Found a neat ring in the process, as well.

Kangaxx? Well... He - it? - didn't take well to mild mental adjustment, so more extreme measures were taken. I broke him. He is now one of the very, very few beings in this multi-verse that are beyond slavishly devoted to me.

I look at him. Kangaxx was remade into a dumping ground for non-allied demi-liches. He is now less of a lich and more of a... shifting mass of golden bones and skulls of different types and sizes, all covered with many, many soul gems. When he speaks it is usually a variation on "this lowly slave obeys, great mistress." It got old from the very first time, though I did shut down his attempts to address me as goddess rather harshly. He also has the multi-voice, insane evil laugh perfected rather well. I... Left him with that. It helps serve as a reminder as how I went overboard. If I made him silent it would not be nearly as effective.

The second personality is a lot more coherent. He was broken and remade rather differently; Imomen had to give up a tiny essence of her Bhaalspawn spark to do so. Negligible since she has ascended to goddess-hood, but it was a stretch of trust at the time. Pretty weird that it was possible, as most Bhaalspawn perma-die whenever they end up dead.

"Hail, Empress," he says. "Kill any gods lately?" He belly laughs. "No, wait, I know this one - YES!"

Ah, Sarevok. Mister Anchev. Savvy baby!

I let him have his fun. He calms down after a bit.

Sarevok is really tempting fate, still wearing that recovered armour of his with the symbol of Bhaal, Lord of Murder, on front. Quite a few refugees from the wars of his own and his siblings settled in Ozymandias. At least now the armour can be actually considered a real piece of heavy duty magic. It was a joke before. He is a bit obsessed about it, though - never takes it off, just uses the polymorph features to change it as needed. His orange-yellow glowing eyes and scarred olive complexion are mostly hidden behind the fangs of the open jaws of his large, horned helm.

Remembering some recent corpse dancing, I swiftly send a yellow robe swath, edge first, towards his eyes. His helm clamps shut reflexively, and I hear a sigh.

"Sarevok stands ready," he speaks, with a mild edge to his voice. His helm opens up again, slowly, revealing a slight glare directed my way.

I grin. "I'm so glad that you take your duties of babysitting Kangy seriously, Savvy. Paying attention and making sure that no unprofessional actions take place, such as certain... Improvised corpse dancing? Yes. That."

...

I don't have to do much to restore some semblance of order. Savvy gets the threat of yet more paperwork in his role as the metal baron of Ozymandias, while Kangaxx... Well. Roughly, it was "bad doggie! Be a good doggie!" Followed by the slavish equivalent of "Woof!" coming from a few dozen freakish and bejewelled golden skulls. I did my best to tune out the actual words he said.

I send them a map of the living and already known possessed dragons with further instructions and they moved out, a dozen-odd everdancing possessed weapons deploying around Sarevok.

Now... Where was I? Ah yes. Pissed off.

...

- City-state of Ozymandias, private residence of a randy red dragon -

...

Correction, make that pissed off more.

"...and then I pulled out and..." I continue to blare at the blathering idiot in front of me. At least he finally put on clothes. I wanted to ask him why he didn't alert the city-state about the chances of eggs in dragon lairs, but then got... This.

I sigh, loudly. It doesn't visibly impact him, except maybe it makes him speak louder. Argh.

"...all over her face! Then her sister and mother walked in and..." I don't know why I keep Firkraag around. He just basically admitted - correction, is still in the middle of admitting - to having his own small orgy with a bunch of god-less drow who he is trying to corrupt into worshipping him. This being done in the midst of the attack.

"...my little dragon roared! Third time over I had one using her fingers on..." This is the result of commanding him to tell me the full and absolute truth. At least he is not repeating himself, and I can use the recording of all this to amuse myself again later, as well as a few of my friends. Maybe play it in a council meeting? Or a girl's night out? Hmm.

"...fourth time I started to feel it, but my little dragon..." Ah, now I remember. He is my stalking horse. The magnet for all the stupid plots, conspiracies and revolutions against me and the city-state of Ozymandias. Though I might have ruined that particular angle by being seen by his 'ladies.' Dammit. Is he even doing that job decently any more? Is he even a joke with the real, professional underworld here?

"...both of them at the same time! Twins! And then..." At least the youngest qualified as an adult, if just barely. I would have been substantially more irritated if that was not the case.

"...lined them up in a row, one by one I..." He is not really original. I think he goes through somewhat attractive, evil aligned criminals on a regular basis. Mostly female, but he does keep a few spare potions of sex-changing around for the pretty boys. Wow. He has fell really hard. Is this the last red dragon alive, anywhere? Ozymandias best defences to save... Him? Gah! Time to burst his bubble.

"...and by the seventh time, yeah, I was starting to sweat and..." I slap him, somewhat lightly. Maybe equal to the maximum for a newly recruited, baseline human warrior. He stops talking, shocked. Sputtering for a few seconds. Grinning, he says "Empress... I'm not done yet. Sure you want to cut me off?"

I sigh, loudly. Yet again.

"You know those drow... Girls?" I start, staring into his eyes. "They were all faking. I could tell as I observed them leaving. Pain, irritation, boredom, exhaustion, muscle cramps... Yes. Pleasure? Well... They got most of that when they could huddle in a corner and have a breather by themselves, while they cover for a snoozing partner." A little smile teases my mouth as I finish.

"You LIE! I'm the greatest thing these-" He starts to rant. I cut him off with another slap.

I poke him in the head. "Grow up, Firky. You want some real evidence? Go contact one of the high class professional girls. Ask for an assessment. Just... Make sure you go as someone else and have a non-true sight room prepared. Wouldn't want them to be so awed by your presence and money that they would bend the facts, eh Firky?"

I poke him in the head again. He is sitting on his bed with a stunned look on his face. Maybe I can help the sad, sad, sexually frustrated female criminal underworld population just a tiny bit with this action? Time will tell. I have some hope! Some tiny, tiny hope!

"Firky Firky Firky Firky Firky-" I poke him in the head a bunch of times, very rapidly, until he roars, flails around and falls back onto his bed.

Perfect time for an exit.

...

- City-state of Ozymandias, directly outside the government-supported mega-monster and dragon crèche and residence of a fine silver dragon lady -

...

Perfect way to ruin an entrance.

"...Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby..." I am getting poked in the head a bunch of times, very rapidly. I'm not roaring, flailing around, or falling back into the hallway behind me. No magically appearing bed, either. I checked with my view. I'm doing the stoic suffering guard soldier thing. Not even hardening my skin against these pokes.

In front of me is an elven appearing woman, pale skinned with silver-blond hair trailing down her shoulders. She is dressed in a simple long white gown. I'm a bit distracted from willing to completely focus on her. Poking does that.

"...Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby..." I deserve this. Just under a minute ago I accused the sole resident good metallic silver dragon, Adalon, of not warning the city-state about the possibility of dragon eggs in the lairs of the swarming sky-lizard... Err, potentially formerly noble beasts. Yes. The bloody 'Silver Dragon Matron Monster Mother' of Ozymandias. Needless to say that I was wrong, she was the first to offer said warning and her telling me it was among the messages saved in my unread logs! The very mother of Eggy strapped to my back! Argh...

Good to see that I can still skill-up in foot-in-mouth social skills, eh Taylor?

I sigh. Yes, not only did Adalon embrace the 'whole enchanted sleep with time dilation' proposal that Luna didn't, she... Ran with it. Very, very far indeed. Pair that with a personality of someone who is willing to actually poke me... Annoying. Tsk.

I keep on hearing "anything for the wyrmlings!" Sure, lady silver. Keep on saying that.

"...Tabby Tabby Tabby Tabby..." She interrupts herself, poking me for one more final time. "What, am I boring you?" She glares at me with the statement. A lot more energy contained in those eyes than Sarevok dared earlier. With the dragon gods all gone, is she the strongest one left? Are there holdouts in some distant planes? I'm glad she has decided to be a non-combatant.

"It's been a really long day, Adalon." Look at that! I can actually use full names without nicknaming! Shocking, I know. "Thank you. I'm sorry. Have a good day." I turn around and walk away.

Before I've taken a dozen steps down the hallway, I hear her whisper. "I know, Taaybet. I've been worried too. Thanks for providing a forehead."

Turning back to her, I make a little mocking curtsy. "You're welcome."

We stare at each other for a few moments, across this greater distance. Adalon puts on an almost mocking expression of anger, points a finger at me and speaks. "You're not forgiven yet."

Ah. I know how this game goes.

"What could I possibly do to ensure such a boon heads my way, oh Adalon?" With an equally almost contrite expression.

She grins a toothy grin. My, what lovely sharp teeth you have, grandmother. Er... Mother. No grandkids for her yet.

"A little one told me of a certain yellow robed Empress visiting the drow infested residence of the city's favourite red dragon. Story time?" Her expression has changed to more natural smile, if still subdued.

Well, that didn't stay secret for long at all.

"That depends," I say. "Do you have a suitably large mirror to contain his majesty?"

She snorts. "Of course! There should be one in the privy!"

"The majesty of when I tell him that all the drow girls are faking and he should ask a professional for an assessment?" I ask, with a wide vulpine grin on my face.

Her jaw drops. "You didn't!"

"I did! Warned him to use an alter ego and a non-true sight room as well!" I'm walking back towards her at this point.

Her eyes start to gleam in an expression not related to anger - well, anger towards me - at all. "With this, Tabby," she purrs. "You have gained the honour of holding some of the wee little ones."

Yes! Widdle little dragons! Victory is mine! How many can I actually fit on top of me before there is no room left?! Seeing as how I don't need eyes to see or have to breathe... Hmm...

Hooking her arm in mine, I pull her past the doorway and back into the residence. I know the place, I've been here a decent amount of times. Time to deliver one last bombshell.

"Thank you for that, Adalon." I pause, and make a thoughtful expression. "But lets make sure the red rogue puts his little dragon away first, alright?"

I'm really glad that I'm supporting her arm with mine. Wouldn't want her to accidentally freeze up or stumble.

...

The power of cute dragons compels me!

A/N: Back in the city, interactions will be social and interpersonal for a while.

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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AirBreather

Sep 16, 2015

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Threadmarks P.1.1) The Lady of Pain is my Landlord (*FLASHBACK ARC) New

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AirBreather

Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 24, 2015

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A/N: Start of Flashback arc. I'll be mixing this in with the other stuff - not keeping them seperate. If anybody wants to wait a few decades for it all to be done and in order, be my guest. :p For reference, here is the chronology: Arcanum - PST/TNO - BG series - Here Be Dragon-Swarms - ? ;-)

P.1.1 - The Lady of Pain is my Landlord

Place: Sigil, undetermined.

Position: Floating around in a nebolous, unseen voice kind of way.

Mood: Mellow yellow. Mellow blue? Hmm.

Time: The timelessness of Eternal Authordom.

I loved Sigil.

It represented a break for me, after my lengthly crusade in Tarant and the whirlwind inter-dimensional tours that followed. Sigil was a chaotic medley of many different races, peoples, places... Portals and accesses to many different planes. It reminded me of the Courts of Chaos, but on a grander scale. It provided inspiration for my own empire-surely-to-be, and the concepts behind the Black Gate that it is built around.

Even though I was seen here as mad by doing such things as chasing after the Lady of Pain, my madness was accepted. Nobody saw the times I actually 'tagged' her. That madness was part of the woodworks, the background, the bloody scenery. Just another facet of the City of Doors. I built up other reputations here as well, like that of a fixer and enforcer. More than that, though, was my simple cover as a barmaid and bouncer at the Smoldering Corpse Bar, in a section of Sigil called the Hive.

Arr, it is a wretched hive of scum and villainy!

The Hive, and the whole of Sigil, is watched over by the amazing ice queen herself, the Lady of Pain. Hmm. I wonder if I had what it would take to defrost her. I had to put a lot of my powers behind safety locks before being able to come through a portal here. The Lady runs a tight ship, and super cosmic powers - and Powers! - are not permitted. Hence, I suffer under the yoke of being just a flying brick with some fancy smarts. Though I do push it sometimes... Often. Very often? Um.

I'm between quests at the moment. Not that I don't get the odd one with requests from people, but nothing really big lately. I suppose that I'll have to leave Sigil to get one. Maybe go to the Abyss? Finish off the Blood War or something?

Meh. I'm comfortable here. Something will turn up, I'm sure of it.

...

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 24, 2015

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A/N: Flashback arc, occurs centuries ago before current one. Continues.

P.1.2 - Talk to the Fists Because This Lady Doesn't Care

Place: Sigil, The Hive, The Smoldering Corpse Bar.

Position: Poised and posed, standing. Stylishly.

Mood: Mellow and excited.

Time: Normalized.

...

I take a deep breath. Ah yes, the stink of unwashed creatures and roasting quasi-fire-elemental mages. I'm so glad that I can disable 'horrible scents' in my options menu. Don't know how I'd be able to stand this place otherwise.

I'd need to, as I work here. Well... In a manner of speaking. I act as a barmaid when I feel like it. I don't feel like it. Heh. Bouncer, fixer and information broker otherwise.

I adjust my hat, straighten my glasses-of-being-excused-for-all-seeing-ness, and tug my posh vest a little. Ever-cleaning, auto-mending clothes are simply amazing.

Spotting Dak'kon in a far corner, I give him a wave. The scale-armoured gith gives me a slight nod in response. I group all the gith together. Easier on me and the tantrums are fun to watch. Typical understatement for him. I imagine it equates to "Oh Emm Gee! Taaybet! Kisses!" Well... Maybe not that extreme. He's been a regular here for years. We've done some work together, and I have improved him in various subtle and obvious ways. Perks of the Gamer's Party system contributed, among other things.

Focusing back near the entrance, I take a look at Ignus.

How is my favourite stylish ever-burning man doing?

He is another special project of mine, as well as being both a reason people think I'm crazy and give me a not inconsiderable amount of respect. Ignus... Well...

A blond human-ish woman, dressed in skimpy blue clothing and a white apron, comes scurrying towards me. At least those former bruises of hers - and the bastards that inflicted them - aren't around any longer.

"Taaybet!" Here comes Drusilla. "Why did you have to go over to formals with him?!" She whines. "I liked the toga better!"

Drusilla is the girlfriend - lover? Ex? - of Ignus, however that possibly works out. I've been slowly trying to wean her away from the obsessive compulsive thing she has with mister ever-burn. Some days are better than others.

"Dru, dearest. I've got an entire ensemble lined up for him. Tuxedo, dress pants, dress shoes, fancy gloves - those are just the start." I acknowledge the very flame proof and expensive clothes Mister Burny is already wearing. "I'm planning to accessorize with him! I've got ideas for hats, ties, pocket watches. Trust me. He'll look fabulous. Flaming, yes. But fabulously flaming."

She chews a fingernail. "I don't know..."

"Not like it will cost you anything, Dru," I continue, walking past her for a better look. She grumbles for a bit and goes back to hanging around by the front entrance.

How are you really doing in there, Ignus?

[PM: Taaybet-Ignus: Hello, Mister Burny! Anybody home?]

I wait a little bit.

[PM: Ignus-Taaybet: FireBURNSeverythingALLFIREFIREallBURNSBURNingFlaMes!FeedFireMeBurningFIREFIREBURNSFIR-

Nope. Not today. I take out a few fragrant herbs from my Inventory and toss them at the human torch. They incinerate in his blue-white flames in an instant, releasing a small burst of flowers and spice into this little madhouse. It'll be gone before anybody could object. Not that I would care, anyways.

I wave my hands towards myself, trying to catch the last few wisps before they fade. Something... Dak'kon? Those mildly elevated eyebrows signify world-ending disasters. What is he... Looking at?

I turn around and see him.

Mister... Greyface. The ever-practical, amoral, ruthless, manipulative fucking bastard that ruined the life of Ignus, enslaved Dak'kon in all but chain and collar and... Who know what other miseries he spread. Tons, doubtlessly.

He just entered and is now staring around, taking in the sights. A few moments to focus on Ignus. Proud of your work, you bastard?

I'm rapidly walking towards him.

"Hello there, I'm looki-" I punch him in the face, hard. I can feel his skull fragment under my hand, and one of his eyeballs explodes. There is a floating skull making some noises at me but I ignore it. Catching Greyface before he can complete his fall, I grab him by the throat and crotch, squeezing both equally hard.

I need to provide some excuse, however flimsy. "Why sir! That was a big bug on your face, wasn't it!" I exclaim with very obviously false cheer. "Let me take your overly drunk self outside where I can assist you properly for the next few hours!"

I can practically sense the shudders coming from the other bar patrons. Well, time to live up to my promises. I owe them to Dak'kon and Ignus.

...

The skull is shouting something while trying to bite me. Can't even scratch my clothing.

"My bite's not working on this thing!" He is trying to head-butt me. I flick him away, continuing to break Greyface's bones and flesh with my bare hands.

Crunch. There goes a femur. Snap. There goes a forearm. Rip. Out comes chunks of muscle and intestine.

I'm coated in his blood and entrails. So is the alleyway. There are still a few bare spots on the walls, though.

I've had to growl at any creature that looked like it wanted to come in for a bite or two. MINE.

Tear. Off comes his face, for the... Third? Fourth time? I'm not paying attention. Just lost in the pattern of blows.

When I found out Greyface was a regenerator... I really smiled. A really big, evil smile. I'm going to be here for a while. Might need to cancel my next non-shift.

...

There are now no empty spots in the alleyway. It is more a question of how many layers of entrails there are. I can tell by Greyface's constant burbling, choking noises that he is still alive.

Regenerators are awesome.

...

Someone... Dak'kon? Is saying something. Can't focus, not important. Need to continue to-

[PM: Daks-Taaybet: Taaybet. You do not know him. This is violence borne of assumptions.]

I snort, and use the slightly less gore soaked back of my forearm to clear my face of blood. Fine, I think. I put on Observe on Greyface and the first thing that pops up is...

Amnesia. Less than a day's worth of memories. Those gurgling noises? An endless attempt at him saying variations on "I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry" again and again and...

"Well, fuck me." I've just been beating up an essentially innocent man. Dammit.

"Sorry chit, I don't stick my skull in crazy." The skull mutters from the other end of the alleyway. "Well... At least clean up first. Then we can talk, if you know what I mean." He bobs around a bit. "Actually, I reconsidered. You don't even have to-" He clicks his jaws a few times. I flick an extra heart his way, and it splashes off his bony forehead.

Shit. I look around me. This is insane. Over-protective much, Taylor? I nod to myself. Gamer's Mind is keeping busy, suppressing the intense surges of guilt and self-loathing I'm sure are there.

Time to clean up. Maybe Greyface will think it was all a dream?

...

I got one of the other staff members to drag his semi-conscious body to one of the dark, back booths of the bar. I tried to sit out of the direct line of sight of him for when he wakes up.

This... Is going to be awkward.

...Am I dressed suitably?

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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Sep 24, 2015

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A/N: Flashback arc, occurs centuries ago before current one. Continues.

P.1.3 - This Lady's Logs Are Listening

Place: Sigil, The Hive, Smoldering Corpse Bar.

Position: Doing my best impression of an interested person.

Mood: Enjoying how Gamer's Mind stops yet more recent bursts of guilt.

Time: Normalized.

...

After going through some frenzied reassurances that no, I was not going to continue beating him half to death, Greyface spoke to me. Started right out with his very short and very recent life story. I don't bother taking notes or asking questions at this time. My logs catch everything.

"I woke up on a slab in the mortuary. It was shocking, cold... Yet strangely familiar at the same time. I found out soon why I thought that." He is not shifting in his seat. The booth that we are in is pretty concealing, and I used some privacy charms earlier.

He pauses, and looks at the floating skull.

"Came across Morte." He tilts his head in the direction of the white boned head piece.

"Uh uh, I talked to you first, chief!"

"Yeah." He corrects himself and takes a deep breath.

"Anyways, we headed off together. He gave me a few details, told me about some messages on my back. About not revealing my nature. That didn't go too well, as the first person I really talked to already knew about it."

He points to his back. I read it.

"Did Morte mention the last line?" I ask him.

"I don't think there was anything special, why?"

I tell Greyface. "It says 'don't trust the skull'."

We both turn and look at Morte. He is not succeeding at looking innocent. I'll grill him later.

"Some other highlights included mentioning of a corpse collector named Pharod. It was on my back, mentioned by a Dustman named Dhall, and in a hidden, torn out page detailing my reception into the halls. No idea why someone made the effort to hide it. I was listed as a 'scarred corpse,' with my only possessions being these fist irons and a handful of coppers. I still have the irons, here."

He shows them to me. Nothing remarkable, but I might be able to pull some past impressions off of them. I put them off to the side, triggering Observe at the same time.

"There was also a zombie, number 1201, that had a note about wanting cremation. Folding it, it gave me an earring that would give me thirty three coppers three times. I saved it for the Dustmen. Would like to help him out, especially since the note is now gone."

He shows it to me. Neat little triangular piece of work.

"That Dhall spoke of how he didn't truly know me, and gave the impression that I've been there a lot."

"He also gave me a really clear message that it wasn't a good idea to share my non-dead status with other Dustmen. Dhall spoke of how my many wounds would easily kill other men, many times over." Greyface frowns.

"He didn't look to be in great shape. Coughing a lot. I wanted to help, but... The Dustman thing. The whole 'embrace death' ideal does not lend itself to healing. It's a pity, as it seems like he really helped me out, many times in the past."

I'm keeping Observe on Greyface the whole time. He is ancient and full of history. It'll take a while for the progress bar to complete, but any milestones and partial information boosts will be very helpful.

"Dhall talked more about the wounds of the mind. My mind - my memory. How I've been there before many times, lost my memory and kept on asking him those exact same questions. He pretty much told me and took it for granted that I would be in there again, dead, stripped of my memories and possessions. I do NOT want that to happen. It's horrible. Not knowing what is going on, or who I am or what has happened in my life. Why I am alive."

I interject. "Sometimes it can be freeing. A fresh start, a new you. After all, if you were the past asshole that Dak'kon knew... That Ignus knew... Hell, even from what I've gleaned - that Morte knew... I'd push you into a fiery pit and hold you under the lava with my bare hands." Not that it would hurt me, but still...

He gives a sad laugh. "Yeah." Looks at me. "I'd like to know how you know all that, though. ...Who's Dak'kon? Ignus?"

I wave him off. "Later. You still have to update me as to your situation now, then we can talk about the past past and the future."

Greyface smiles. "Good to hear that I'll have one."

I nod, and he continues. "The name Pharod came up a lot in discussion. Dhall discouraged me from seeking him, as well as having other people accompany me. Told me how they would likely die, miserable, in my company. That... Does not feel good. I don't like the idea of bringing misery to others."

I give him a tight-lipped smile. "It happens."

Greyface nods back at me and continues. "He directed me to the crypt of a woman buried in the mortuary. The next room over had a zombie who I accidentally caused to fall over. I stored his arm in a desk. There was also a tiefling with blade like fingers who was performing surgery on a corpse, who assumed that I was one as well."

He looks at his arms and sighs. "Probably not the biggest surprise in the book. I got some stuff for her and she stitched me up after. It felt nice, if strange. Her actions also triggered a memory of mine - when a past me put something in a corpse, the number forty-two zombie. A further note revealed that it was stuck walking around in triangles and has been doing such for decades. I found it and got a nice dagger, some coins and some charms."

Greyface shows it to me, but keeps it. Baatorian green steel, eh? Likely a story there. The mention of decades as well points to a very long and storied history.

"The next section over had an Anarchist spy disguised as a zombie, who I later found out is named Vaxis, being directed by someone named Penn."

He hands me the note. I read and pocket it.

"It looked like he could provide a disguise for me, but I wasn't interested. He gave me more info about Pharod, and how he seems to be providing an unnatural amount of corpses to the Dustmen. The spy was also more helpful in directing me to a portal in the lower level, and telling me that a portal key in the form of a crooked finger bone was required."

He crooks a finger to indicate the shape.

"Before I got to the upper level, I found another copper earring, this one obviously old and locked. A zombie on the upper level gave me a hint to unlock it. Hollow thing, interesting."

Greyface shows it to me. I make a small noise of appreciation and take it, tagging it with Observe as well. Your little secrets will be mine!

"I... Ah... Kept on grabbing everything I could. Never know when something can be useful, right?"

He gives an embarrassed laugh. "Down on the first floor, I picked up a book from yet another zombie. This one focused on undead guardians. Pretty complex stuff, though there was an opportunity to use it on some giant armoured skeletons. Morte here thought they would make a fine body, but... I didn't want to be around while they disagreed."

If a floating skull could be embarrassed, it would be. Maybe bobbing in a shameful manner? Amazing the subtle emotions conveyed by flying around different ways. Huh.

"I also got seen by a fair number of Dustmen, both on the third and first floors. As I was running around like a crazed loon, none of them could catch me. Maybe it is in part of their rules to maintain a slow even walking pace under all circumstances? No idea."

He shrugs. I picture him going around looting everything and talking to zombies, being trailed by slow moving Dustmen, wheezing. I giggle, can't help it.

He gives me a look with a raised eyebrow and continues.

"Found the portal in the north west section of the lower level. Glad that spy was honest about that, at least. I was still undecided at that point how best to escape from there, so I explored some more. Just a bit off of it, in the same chamber was... Someone from my past. More specifically, the crypt and resting place of Dieonarra. She... Appeared to me, like a vision. A ghost. I mentioned it to Morte after, and he said he saw nothing. Just me in a daze."

He gives me a look. I shrug. "The planes are full of crazy things."

"Yeah," he says. "There was more, though. She said a lot of things to me. Started off with a verbal attack of sorts. Really, really implied that a past self of mine was a right miserable bastard. Your fist to my face was one more bit of proof along those lines." Yet another pointed look in my direction.

I grimace, giving yet one more small "Sorry!" to Greyface.

"She told me her name, Dieonarra, as well as a love that she believed we shared. I was honest in my ignorance, as well as being open to seeing if I could help her or myself."

Morte is staring at Greyface. Catching me eyeing him, he mouths "the chief is crazy" at me. Somehow. Without actually having lips. Huh.

"Some memory triggered... Allowing me to raise the dead. It was in a limited form, but still very powerful. I felt the energy within myself and recognized it. There was a spark of elation with having this ability, but it came with the knowledge that I would need it. That people - that companions - would and have died around me." He stares off at the wall for a few moments.

"She also told me of my curse of memory loss, yet one more reminder, and how I have died countless times. My cycle. My insane, endless cycle. That I want to - no, need to and must break and end it."

There is a small wetness in his eyes as he continues. "I... I made a vow to her. That I swore that I would find some way to save her or join her. And I intend to."

He takes a deep, shaky breath and is silent for a few moments. "She gave a vision to me. Dieonarra told me of 'enemies three', 'none more dangerous than myself in my full glory', a 'prison of regrets and sorrows', mad shadows, a terrible sacrifice of myself and... The requirement to destroy what makes me immortal. It appears that there is where I will find a way to end myself, or this cycle, or join Dieonarra or... All of them."

Greyface is doing the stoic crying thing now. If anybody were to just glance at him, they'd think that a corpse got a face full of onions or something. Looking closer, though, and you can see that he is in pain. Less than a natural day old, by his own memories reckoning, and already deeply impacted by his experiences.

"...I might lose myself to such a degree that I'll never be able to die again."

His words hit me like a thunderbolt. Gamer's Mind takes over, does its thing. Greyface's immortality problem is like a twisted version of mine, but he does have an escape key. A working 'Quit' button. He just needs to find it - the proper end, not just me doing some sort of absolute death method on him. That would be easy and cheap. In that instant, I had already decided that I am going to help. This scarred Reaper reject is going to get his happy ending even if I have to floss with god's guts and gargle with lava! I'll even... Give up cute hats and tea!

I suppressed an instinct to hug him. Later! It will have to be after I convince him to put on some armour, maybe get a shiny magic sword or two. Like a respectable adventuring hero. Maybe get someone to do his hair, too.

"I suppose that I did come across as a clueless to most people. Still, whenever any thugs started fights with me - I ended them. It was easy enough to handle them one at a time, and Morte helped."

The skull chimes in. "You bet'cha chief!"

"That blade was very familiar in my hands. When we needed to rest up, the crypt room from that zombie spy helped out. Might not be the most comfortable, but it was cheap. We didn't have a large purse at that time."

"The first local... Ah... Harlot... Parted with some more information about Pharod. How he is a Collector boss, and directed me to Ragpicker's Square." He looks at the floating skull. "She also educated Morte here in some of the finer arts of foul language after I turned her down quite firmly."

"A Dustman pointed me to the Gathering Dust Bar, a location also recommended by another citizen in addition to the Smoldering Corpse one." He waves a hand around. "I was concerned about the idea of seeing more of them, as I had been sprinting around corpse central just a while ago."

"Chatted with a few other people. A dabus, which quickly brought back the required memories needed to translate their speech. Ingress, a mad woman afraid of doors." He mutters to himself. "Another good deed and obligation I should take care of."

"Who else? There was a lot." He looks at me. "You'd get a lot more business as a fixer if you'd actually talk to people on the street, Taaybet."

What? He's serious?

"Greyface. I'm not looking for quantity, I'm looking for quality. I'm an up-scale fixer. I don't look for problems to solve. People come to me when they have issues that need fixing. Did any of these 'quests' promise more than a handful of coppers? A nice pat on the back?" I'm looking back at him, now.

"No. No, they didn't. Sometimes a good deed is its own reward, though."

"I'm not contesting that, Greyface. I'd just rather do the equivalent of saving a burning city for my good deed, instead of helping a thousand old ladies cross the street. The big deeds are manageable in time, effort and rewards. The small ones? They can drain you. They never end. I learned that lesson early on in here." Easy enough to spot cons with Observe, but they were still annoying.

He purses his lips. "Well, I still intend to do them."

I shrug and nod at him. "Your time, cutter."

"Yeah," he continues. "A tiefling named Sev'Tai, who wanted some thugs dead. I offered to help them cross the street for her." He gives me a mild glare. "Checked out the mass carved gravestone monument. Talked to an elderly hive dweller, which was an... Experience. Yes."

He rubs his chin for a second, thinking. "Do you suppose there is a holy, flaming, frost-brand, gronk-slaying, vorpal hammer of wounding and returning and... Shooting lightning... Out your ass?" Greyface has a really confused expression right now.

"No," I say. He sighs with relief. "But... It could be made." I waggle my eyebrows at him.

"I think I'll pass, thank you." He hmms. "Now then... Baen the Sender, wanting a message delivered. I also agreed for a handful of copper coins." I really hope he stops that. "A rather attractive, flame-haired, tailed tiefling. She gave me the directions to find Pharod in a gang infested alley." His eyes narrow, briefly.

"She was also the most verbally abusive and offensive person I've met in the entire time here." Greyface looks at Morte. "And that is saying a lot."

"You kill me, chief. You really do." The skull rolls his eyes.

"After running back out of that alley, I confronted her with that fact. I'm still unsure as to whether to be glad or disappointed that she didn't try to attack me."

"She'd make a beautiful zombie, chief!" We all look at him. Morte must have felt it, as he sort of corrected himself after. "I prefer the live ones, alright?" Then he grumbles some more.

Greyface continues. "A zombie by the Dustman bar served as a guide. He pointed me to the direction of this place, as well as reminding Morte about past employment."

"What a job, chief, what a job. I had to give accurate information and not insult people. I must have lasted a hour till I couldn't take it anymore." The skull mutters to himself about clueless adventurers.

"It looks like there was some extra work in the Dustman bar as well, but I still avoided it." I nodded at him.

"Checking back around the main mortuary entrance in case I missed anything, I came across Pox. Name and nature suited him. Seems like he was helpful in the past, helping to smuggle me in, and he was helpful just recently as well. Gave me the name of his boss, Sharegrave, who had a vested interest in seeing Pharod go down." His grey scarred face forms another brief smile. "One more pointing finger in that direction."

"Heading in the direction the zombie gave me for this bar, I skillfully bypassed a very obvious damsel-in-distress setup."

I think he wanted some sort of recognition or a pat on the back. I just blinked at him. Very minor sign of disappointment on his face.

"Yeah, right," he continues. "Met another dweller by the name of Mourns-for-Trees, who did his namesake. One more person to help out. He mentioned a fallen dabus by the name of Fell, who works in tattoos. Some involvement with a past power there - bit of a dark story. I haven't met him yet."

"I have. He is a few buildings over. We've helped each other out, in our respective ways. I can introduce you some time...?" I say.

"Thanks, that'd be appreciated," Greyface says. "Met those three thugs I was supposed to help cross the street and I did so. They were barking mad, literally."

"Stopped a fight between some girl's brother and her lover. Got nothing except a pat on my back."

Yeah, he's really pushing that angle. I glower at him.

"Then we came to the entrance of the Smoldering Corpse Bar, with Morte leading the way. He gave me a mention of a reputable fixer and problem solver - yourself," he points to me, "and how I should be honest no matter what. I step in the door, see a pissed off, well-dressed woman heading towards me and can barely squeak out a hello before my skull meets your fist and I'm lifted off my feet by my neck and crotch and dragged outside. You know the rest, right?" Greyface settles back into his chair with the last question. It was a lot that he got off of his scarred, grey chest.

I give a little pained, sad laugh while nodding as he finishes his story. Well-dressed? But of course! He takes another deep breath and talks again. "So. I heard from Morte you're a fixer - how much would you charge to help me out?"

A new quest prompt! YES!

I raise an eyebrow in his direction. "Well... Greyface. That'll be your name now, seeing as you lost your first one. I have no doubt that others have given you much less flattering titles." Observe's progress bar is still progressing. "You've already put a respectful down payment with your story here. I value and trade in information among other things, and yours was... Substantial. I also have a debt to you, incurred just recently, by beating the living daylight out of you a few times." I shake a fist in his direction with a light grin. "I'm going to help you."

He smiles, and his grey-corpse-like skin gets all lighted up. Well, considering I've been attracted to rocks before, it's not that big a stretch. "Thank you very much, miss...?"

"Taaybet. Just Taaybet." I left the name of Taylor Hebert a while ago.

"Taaybet. Got it." He nods.

"Lets talk terms, Greyface." I grin and it is only a borderline nice one. Morte comes over.

"Hey chief! What are you doing with this chit? I told you to get advice, not contracts! She will..." I grab him and thrust him face first into my chest. He babbles for a few moments then shuts up. Wise, or just enjoying the location? Either way it is silent so I don't care.

"Personally, I like win-win. You get me?" He nods, a new determined look on his face. Same sort of look high power businessmen get in million dollar deals. "Don't make any real comments until I'm done as well. It's annoying." He nods again, slightly.

"First of all - I'm with you. Where you go, I go. I won't be able to help you out in a bar somewhere. Right?" He nods again, smiling.

"However, I'm taking my cut of loot. By cut, I mean everything." His smile turns into an open mouth. Not quite a dropped jaw, but it is getting there. "However, in return I will pay for and provide for everything - food, lodging, weapons, armour, clothing, ammo, bribes... My endless purse comes included." I look down at the skull trapped in my chest and tap him. "Whores."

Morte gives a muffled shouted "oh gods yes!" that could still be heard easily.

Greyface, though. He is looking a bit shell-shocked. Emotional whiplash?

"One other thing. We'll all need to have a sit-down: you, me, Morte, Dak'kon. A real serious talk about ancient history. Ancient shared history." I look down at Morte. "You know what I'm talking about, right, skull?"

I get a muffled "well, crap" for my trouble.

"Dak'kon is part of the deal as well. You'll need to convince him, but I seriously think that when we have that talk a lot of old things will come up and be resolved. If it matters, he was the gith that helped talk me off of you. If it wasn't for him - and Morte - you'd likely still be breaking your regenerating bones under my fists."

"So," I start. "Is that win-win enough for you?" I lean forward, towards him. My hands under my chin. Did the whole absolute stillness thing as well, but I doubt Greyface noticed the subtle special effects of it.

He blinks for a bit. Opens his mouth a few times. Closes it. Finally says, "Yes. Very much so. Practically too much, even. Can you tell me why you're interested in my... Story... Taaybet?"

I smile. The mysterious act cometh! "Ah, Greyface, all in due time. We've got a wee bit of a journey ahead of us."

He sighs, but doesn't look too irritated. "Alright. If that is the price to pay, I'll accept it." He sticks out his hand in my direction, and I shake it. "Let's all have that chat with Dak'kon."

I gather the things from our table and we set out to meet him. Morte has to be pulled away from me.

...

A/N: just started and re-finished PST in the last two weeks. I think the the expansion to BG1 - the new one in the works - might derail a LOT of my story plans. I'll try to gloss over that one as much as possible till it gets released and a patch or two. Sorry if Taaybet seems so sane right now. She gets 'better'. :p This is the side of her not in the primary/leading role. There are a bunch of times when she is not like that, and gets to excel in other ways.

Last edited: Sep 25, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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Sep 26, 2015

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#93

A/N: Flashback arc, occurs centuries ago before current one. Continues.

P.1.4 - This Lady Walks Into Your House

Place: Sigil, The Hive, Taaybet's residence.

Position: Lounging around.

Mood: Excited!

Time: Normalized.

...

In the bar, Greyface impresses Dak'kon with ease. I'm unsure as to whether to be relieved or pained by it. A bit of both.

...

We all relocate to my place. It is nearby - a well concealed, locked and secure sub-basement opposite Fell's tattoo parlour.

I summon some unseen servants and a few magically prepared drinks and dishes. Reusable charms are awesome. Heavy eating, but I doubt it will be more than picked at for the next little while.

That ancient shared history? Well, it was how he, Morte, Dak'kon, Dieonarra, and Xachariah had previously almost succeeded.

The story of a desperate Morte being pulled out of the Pillar of Skulls and serving different incarnations over the centuries, of varying levels of sanity; how Dak'kon came to not know himself and was rescued and trapped into enslavement by the practical incarnation; the one-sided undying love that Dieonarra had for him that was so utterly perverted, it was used to place eternal bonds on her after death; the manipulation of the blind archer, Xachariah, in life as a companion, in death as fuel for another resurrection, and likely even further in undeath. We'll need to track him down...

The story of Ignus was a mere side-note among this. I had to tell it, and superficially explain a bit of my mind-searching abilities. This telling was of the teaching and encouragement of a pyromania focused mage apprentice into further and further excesses. A mere thought experiment into what it would take to break and remake his obsession with fire into slavish loyalty and total obedience. Failing, even to the slightest degree, was punished with physical abuse - much like the many, many times towards Morte - and ultimately caused his prior incarnation to discard him. Nothing was done to save, assist, or prevent the eternal self-immolation that was the fate of Ignus.

Further details were given about the path of the prior incarnation and his four tools. The steps taken on his past adventure. The casual murder and manipulation of others. The slight knowledge and impressions they had of the lies, plans and schemes set up for the Greyface of now. The very last portal to the Fortress of Regrets, just steps away from the cold slab he woke up on.

How his so-called immortality costs the life of another and spawns a murderous shadow, leading to an ever-increasing vicious, lethal cycle.

How some of his past incarnations were also utterly insane or psychopathic criminals, attempting to tear down the very steps required to rebuild himself. Mazing, murders, manipulation, abuse, theft, insanity...

There was more. Much, much more. Morte talked the most, with Dak'kon correcting him at times. I corrected them both as needed, with more accurate impressions gleaned through their - and Ignus' - minds through the use of Observe and related powers. Greyface's past exploded into detail to me during this. Morte didn't like the accurate and honest rendition of his history. It spoiled his 'image.' Tough.

This all took a few hours. By the middle of it, I was the only one eating. Near the end... All I did was move it around. Making food sculptures of the topics at hand. I animated little custard golems and they did a dance routine-based reenactment of the Blood War. The levity was much needed.

Hope this doesn't spoil heroes' feast for all of them, I think, while poking at a bowl of giant, multi-coloured custard.

...

Greyface is just looking at Morte. Not saying anything. He is pissed. There was lots of those moments in the past few hours. "Great innocent act you had going there, skull. Real nice. Fooled me good."

Morte just floats, and says "I'm sorry chief. I won't let you down... Again... I swear it."

He looks at his own hands. Clenches them, hard. His scarred grey skin showing the tension. "Still," he says. "Nothing any of what you have all said tops the ruthless practical bastard I came across as."

We all nod, but he doesn't notice.

"That I was... Dieonarra... Xachariah. Ignus! I can't believe it. The Fortress of Regrets? The portal being right inside the mortuary?!" He is shocked. In other circumstances he might be shouting, but all of this is too overwhelming for him right now. "What does this mean for you, Taaybet? Escorting me to the portal by the Dustmen?!"

I sigh. Got to see if I can defuse the situation a bit. "Just because the door is there does not mean you are ready, Greyface. You're not. You know that, I know that, and Dak'kon and Morte here know that." They both nod as I mention their names. "A number of your past selves likely led trails leading you to that spot. It's up to you - and us - to follow those bread crumbs and get ready during that process. We can still visit the mortuary - I'd like to check a few things - but that portal is to be avoided until we are certain that we can handle it. No deaths for you, either, if at all possible."

Some good news for him. "I've discovered something about you, just recently." Observe is awesome! "One of your past incarnations set up something that allowed him to retain memories past deaths, but it would only activate a few deaths past his own. It was you. Literally, you right now are benefiting from one of the most manipulative bastards around. Let's not throw out the good with the bad here." I wince. "No need to test out that effect unless absolutely necessary, either."

He nods, settling down on his chair. Frowning. "So what crumbs, then?"

I point at him. More specifically, his back. "You've already got an idea. Pharod. We find him and move on from there. Keep on 'updating your journal,' Greyface, and we'll go places. Cross planes. I guarantee it." I smile.

He smiles back at me, then at the other two. Dak'kon is typically sombre, moreso given the big reveals. Morte is happily floating along - perhaps his fear of the eventual conflict at the fortress is more than over-weighed with the promise of whores. Simple minded, heh. Though... What can he do with them? Seriously? Something more to 'fix'!

Greyface looks at Dak'kon a bit more. "Didn't you use to be older? Wear less armour, too?" Ah, he has finally noticed my improvements. A full body suit of gleaming scale mail armour does tend to impress, especially when it is of the psionically reactive karach metal. I've been keeping Daks' relative age young and his health perfect as well, constantly touching him up whenever we've worked together. Gamer's Party does a lot, and biomanipulation ices the cake nicely.

Dak'kon speaks, barely moving in his chair. "Know that I have some small knowledge of Taaybet, and this has come with perks." I poke the gith in his armoured thigh and he gives me a twitch of the lips, his equivalent of a belly laugh these days. At least he can still smile right now, no matter how understated it is.

Things wind down between us all. We finish the now cold meals that were summoned earlier and try to get settled. I have a few spare bunks handy, and Daks picks one. His usual. Morte just floats around, while I grab Greyface. Figuratively and literally.

"Hey," I say, catching his scarred, grey arm before he picks a bunk. "I've got a binding ritual of sorts. Daks - Dak'kon - took it way back. It's part of why he improved so much. I'm going to use it with you and Morte and then we can start some major mind-memory tinkering, all right?"

He looks at me. "This wasn't in the contract, Taaybet." I just wait. We're both immortals. One of us will give before the other, and it won't be me.

Finally, he sighs and says "Sure, why not. I'm past the point of asking 'will it hurt?', especially given the last few hours." I wince. Nice one, Greyface. Point to you! "What do I need to do?"

I rub my hands together briskly.

"Alright! First, close your eyes tightly." He complies. "Put your left hand in front of your eyes and extend your right hand out like you are pointing at something."

[Party invite to 'Greyface' sent.]

"Now move your finger a bit left... Up... Up... Perfect. Now pretend you are poking something with that finger about a half hand length away."

['Greyface' has been added to the group.] The party invite that was floating in front of him disappears with the action, and I send him a message.

[Irregulars: Taaybet: Welcome, Greyface!]

He is waving his hand around and through where the message appears. Dak'kon opens his eyes briefly, peers in our direction and sends off a party chat message as well.

[Irregulars: Daks: Hail, traveler. I know that your eyes have seen something new today.]

It is accompanied by yet another microscopic twitch of his lips. Hilarious.

[Irregulars: Greyface: What... How...]

He spends a short while bumbling around using the party chat system and a few other options.

...

Eventually, I switch him over to private messaging to save Daks the headache of pop-ups.

[PM: Greyface-Taaybet: This is amazing. Can it be tapped? Accessed by others?]

I shake my head, hair somewhat following my movements.

[PM: Taaybet-Greyface: No, I've never seen or heard of anyone being able to. That includes gods, Powers, demons, magic users - everyone. It even works when anti-magic and anti-telepathy fields are active around us. It is also active right around the base of the Spire, and no, do NOT ask about that.] I catch him in the middle of opening his mouth - so to speak - to ask that question, but my last sentence cuts him off.

Greyface underplays it. Observe shows him to be substantially more impressed than he lets on, perfect scarred poker face notwithstanding.

[PM: Greyface-Taaybet: Very useful. We can have conversations while also speaking, like-] "Talking about the planes while-" [-also talking about something else.]

I nod. Hmm. Is this vest suitable for extra-planar adventuring? Would bubble head or lung filling enchantments provide more aesthetically pleasing magical auric glimmers?

[PM: Taaybet-Greyface: This is just the start of it, though. I want to break open your mind and see what can be unlocked. You've got tons of potential hidden in there, if your recent flashback-based learning experiences are any sort of indication.]

He sends a squint and raised eyebrow my way.

[PM: Greyface-Taaybet: I just got this mind put together, and you want to break it open? I'm not understanding the appeal.]

[PM: Taaybet-Greyface: Well, you won't have much to lose then right?] I grin at him. Looks like Greyface is not amused, given the newly present frown. So much easier to read than Daks'.

[PM: Taaybet-Greyface: Okay, I'm being a bit overly dramatic. To be clearer, we'll enter your mind like a waking dream. In there, the past and present contents of your mind, memories and powers will be represented in a manner like... A house. With doors, hallways and rooms and all. We can see what is open, what is locked, and what is obviously missing. It will only be a real risk if some thing is actually attached to your mind and soul, and even then... We'll be all sneaky sneaky like.] Or I'll just overpower or evade it. No need to tell Greyface that, though.

He looks hooked! Bite the hook! Bite it! Yummy yummy hook!

[PM: Greyface-Taaybet: How familiar are you with this... Process?]

Yes! I grant myself an imaginary victory dance. It is not that satisfying. Time to reel in mister tall, dark grey, handsome and scarred.

[PM: Taaybet-Greyface: Very. I use it with myself almost every week, and with others often monthly. I'm practised with the offensive use of it as well, but that won't be an issue with you.]

He leans back in his chair. The wood creaks a bit as he nods to himself a few times. Greyface sits still for a few minutes.

[PM: Greyface-Taaybet: Alright.] He sighs, relaxing his body with the breath. [When can we get started?]

I smile at him, stroke my chin a few times. Lean back into my chair. Very casually I tap his shin with one of my feet.

"We already have..." The words are spoken by the room around us. I maintain a perfectly immobile, close-mouthed posture as my body appears to look at him. I'll be recording everything, always, of course. But now... Time to impress. Time is slowed for both of us. I don't know how long this all will take, but better to be safe than sorry.

I precreated a copy of my living room to drop us into when we transferred to our conjoined Mindscape. Standard light grey stone, hung with tapestries on the walls and layered with multiple rugs on the floor. Thick, rough wood furniture, also covered, with a mix of knit materials and furs. Everburning fireplace seeming slightly arrogant in close proximity to the rugs, but safely bound behind wards.

Appreciate my awesomeness, dammit!

While Greyface is doing his best impression of a clueless Prime seeing a pair of topless mariliths doing a combination mud-wrestling and juggling act, I start to rearrange the Mindscapes. Only things I am really making sure of is that the sight of my Mind Mansion is hidden - an endless black void filled with stars would likely spawn questions I don't feel like answering right now - and that Greyface won't be able to see his until it is well and ready. My version of ready.

I reject your reality and substitute my own. Mind Mansion.

"This doesn't seem that different," he says, while looking around. Greyface notes the absence of Daks and Morte, as well as any other doorways or rooms. "Very seamless transition. I suppose it occurred when your foot tapped me?"

I allow my mental avatar to nod in his direction. The room speaks again. "Just a few moments. I'm preparing your mind for us." Greyface settles back into his chair.

His mental landscape goes through a few different incarnations. They include a beach of an ink-black ocean... A massive graveyard... A dark fortress... When it becomes a somewhat normal two-story house, I stop the process.

Now... How to dramatically dissolve the room around us? I slow time for myself even further to think about it. Ah yes, the fold-away method. Throw in some sound effects too.

Matching my time rate with Greyface, I start to dissolve the faux room around us. "Welcome..." The ceiling and walls start to flip and fold over each other, like pages in a book. Each flip causes the area behind it to disappear. In less than half a minute they are both done and the floor gets started. The very last thing are the chairs we are both sitting in. He makes as if to get up, but I wave him down. We are both sitting on 'nothing' by the time I stretch and get up. He follows my actions.

"...to your Mind Mansion, Greyface," I allow my mental self to say the words, as I gesture to the simple house in front of us. In the opposite direction of his Mansion, towards my own, lies nothing but a stone path and dense white fog. Easiest obscuring method I know of.

He is staring at it. "Is that it? It seems kind of small, considering my history." Greyface doesn't look that impressed.

Dammit. I should have showed off the Mindscape alteration process! Recover the fumble!

"It was originally much larger. I molded your mind into this shape for the sake of my own convenience, as it is easier to navigate in this familiar form." I wave him forward and we both approach the front door. "The form of a house allows mental connections and objects to be represented through rooms, hallways and objects."

The whole house, door included, are a shade of grey matching his skin. Just like his skin, it is all damaged and worn. It gives the impression of a peeling or sun-damaged paint job over the entire exterior. All the windows are covered with wooden slats of the same appearance.

"It is much, much larger on the inside. I've spent weeks on the interiors of some peoples minds whose exterior just looked like a one room cottage." We're in front of the door. I look at Greyface and wave an open hand at the knob. He gets the hint and opens it. I nod towards him in thanks and stride in, leaving him outside. "Ladies first, of course."

My laughter trails behind me like floating soap bubble land mines as he follows.

...

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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3.2 - The First Hours Are Rather Short

Place: City-state of Ozymandias, Adalon's residence

Position: Submerged under little wyrmlings!

Mood: Widdle dragon-kins! Squee!

Time: Enjoying non-slowed time. Very normalized.

The power of cute dragons compels me! It also drives me to obsessive lengths. Take, for instance, what happened a wee while later...

...

"Tabby," Adalon started. "Don't you think that that is... Enough?" She was peering in my general direction. I could tell from the camera view I had focused on her - my eyes were blocked - that she was torn between concern and stifled laughter. She was half-lying down on a silver, super-sized pillow-couch.

"Nah," I said, slowly and carefully moving my arms around. "I'm good. Keep them coming!" This was said using a projected voice effect. The careful aspect came due to the sheer amount of little wyrmlings all around me. It had escalated. I had used... Hand wavium. It was for a good cause!

It started with one. A wee little silver wyrmling, with blue-green eyes. He stared at me with soulful eyes and I wanted MOAR! Then one on my lap. One for each shoulder. Another held in my arms. Then... I started to get creative. Applied some so-called spider walking-like effect to my robes and myself. Started to hover in the air to get more open space around me.

Now? Well... Let's see. Two on my head - one on top, one wrapped around. One each for each shoulder. Changed the held one to a total of five for each arm - two each were firmly attached to the undersides. Twelve more were using my torso and legs, front and back, stacked and lying besides each other like logs. One each for the bottoms of my feet.

"...How exactly do you propose that, Tabby?" She said, blinking slowly in my direction.

For an answer, I extended the four robe swaths and wiggled them suggestively. "I could also increase my size! Maybe... Grow some extra limbs? Or change into a fleshy blob pillow thing?!" I'd be bouncing around right now, if I were actually on the ground. My hopes were soon dashed.

"No." Adalon stated. "You are officially... Cut off."

Awww... I sulked. Did my best to be a cocoon of concentrated cuteness by wrapping those yellow swaths all around me. I did some rotating and special effect light pulses and thrumming sounds as well. Passed on absorbing them all and emerging as a giant draconic butterfly abomination, though. I'll save that for enemy sources of cuteness. Maybe.

Adalon turned back to the recording of Firky, playing on a door-sized mirror.

...

She laughed at all the right times. I think she wanted to poke me in the head again after seeing it happen to Firky, but... Wyrmlings. Yeah. She eventually caved in as well and surrounded herself with a mass of wee little beasties as well, but was doing such in a much more dignified way than me. Pfft!

...

"Tabby."

"Mmm?" I asked, basking in wyrmling warmth. "What's up?"

"The recordings have been done for a while," Adalon said, peering in the direction of my cuteness cocoon. "Don't you have things to do? An empire to run?"

Hmm. I suppose I do. Yes, Empress am I.

She is staring in my direction. I'm silent. Those sounded like rhetorical questions, right? I'm busy here. Very busy. Important stuff, cuddling.

"Tabby."

"Mmm? Yes?" I asked, yet again basking in consciously chosen ignorance.

"Leave."

Awww... "Fine," I said. "I suppose you will be wanting these guys back as well, right?" I make some more thrumming sounds and add in a few yellow sparkles for good measure.

She just stares at me. Yeah, didn't think so. I carefully use the robe swaths to place the wyrmlings, one by one, on the large pillows around her. Easing them in among the other slumbering beasties. I do some dramatic sighs, but they don't seem to have much effect on Adalon. Pity.

After the long, long minutes it takes to carefully remove them from myself - in no way prolonged for my own gratification - we head to the main entrance again. Adalon refuses a hug of mine, citing "wanting to get things done in the next hour", but hugs me instead. Not quite as powerful, but still nice. Less time consuming as well.

"Let me know if Firky fails as your trouble magnet, alright?" She tells me, a small smile on her face. Well. Dammit.

"Does everybody know about that?" I ask, hiding my face in some robe swaths. Was it ever effective to have Firky as my stalking horse?!

"No," she says, smiling further. She tucks some of her silver-blonde hair behind her ear and whispers in my ear. "Though I do, now. Thanks for the confirmation, Tabby."

Dammit. For that, she gets a hug. Tickle skills shall be... Leveled up.

...

They didn't level up.

...

"Be well, Taaybet," the now composed Adalon tells me. "Talk to Qualm, all right? I heard she has a bunch of good news for you." Her normally perfectly plain white gown showing signs of the legendary tickle struggle. I won! Victory was mine!

I nod at her. Good news? Works for me. "Thanks, Addy." I wink. "See you around!"

She is already opening her mouth to reply - no doubt to offer some polite grumblings about the use my nickname towards her - when I teleport away. Timing is everything.

...

I pan the camera view around me. Great view. I'm on top of the central spire of Ozymandias, posing in some sort of convoluted martial arts way. I'm sure of it. After a while, physical combat disciplines all sort of blend together. I've even got the skill synergies to prove that. Balancing on one toe on top of a tower is easy. Just ask Vane, the dust particle hopping monk of cheaty monk-monky-ness. Then we get into Qualm realms. She is definitely past third base with reality, as far as her power bullshittery these days goes.

Qualm. She has topped out a lot, here. In the course of a few months she went from a broken wreck we found in ruined mountain monastery to... Well. My second. Or number one, however you want to call it. In an one-on-one duel with Rasq, she will win handily. That is a Rasq with all limits removed. While holding back! Mindflayer - Illithid! - savants. So fucking broken.

I smile and stare in the direction of the sun. My broken companions are the best kind of broken.

Where to meet her? Hmm. I send a message to the city.

[PM: Taaybet-Ozymandias: Ozy. Prep a special room for me please. Theme of... Unbreakable perfect defences or such. I'm testing Qualm's go-to abilities.]

It only takes her a few moments to reply.

[PM: Ozymandias-Taaybet: Acknowledged, Captain Taaybet. Please be aware that Qualm has demonstrated the ability to go through all currently available defences.]

I sigh. Shift over to another toe to balance on. Maybe I'd get a skill-up or two if I summoned a tornado or two? Have an army of titans throwing boulders at me?

[PM: Taaybet-Ozymandias: I know, Ozy. Still... No harm in testing it again. Thanks.]

[PM: Ozymandias-Taaybet: Of course, Captain Taaybet. Co-ordinates for the space in my ship-self in-coming.]

Ozy sends a mental image my way. It contains the the appearance and location of an empty room, deep in the bowels of the city-state. I teleport there with a thought.

[PM: Taaybet-Ozymandias: Thanks, Ozy. Please put up the active defences... Now.]

I feel the energies in the surroundings surge bare seconds after I sent the last message. I don't bother replying again, just pat the nearest wall in gratitude. Get an extra thrum for my efforts. It is a nice, but bare room. Reminds me of the blank space I used as a Mindscape with Luna earlier. No doors, though.

Time to summon Qualm. Test a few of her powers. I take a deep, unnecessary breath and assume the regal position. So called because it gives me flashbacks to pretentious royalty in various different monarchies I've come across. Less of a position, more of a... Stance. I'm standing here with my right arm out, palm down, hand slightly bent.

Maybe it could be called the Pope stance? But aren't they usually sitting down? Have big rings? Argh.

"Thaqualm, Thaqualm, Thaqualm." At the instant the last syllable was uttered, she appeared. Kneeling in front of me was Qualm. The front of my hand was placed against her forehead - well, the forehead of her gold-cloth coif-like mask. Her right hand held onto my outstretched one, preventing even the light touch of her head being a weight.

Without moving, she spoke. "Empress. You summoned me?"

- / Months earlier... / -

"Taaybet? I think this place is a wash. Just ruins. Ozy could probably use it as rough material." Someone is talking to me. I wave in acknowledgement but otherwise ignore it; my logs will catch it. They drift to another place in this broken monastery. I'm focused on a life sign behind an old, sealed door. It is faint, but stable. The faintness refers to the mental state I sense beyond - fragile, brittle, tormented, self-loathing, broken...

The bright light of the mountain top snows reflect down the hallway. I could just rip the door off its hinges, but that might send the wrong message to the occupant. I look at my robes. Robes of the Neutral Archmagi. Bah. I feel so trashy and common. I spare a thought for a mental prayer for some truly epic clothes. One day, one day soon. At least I have a matching staff.

I allow myself a sigh. I'm over-complicating things. I walk over to the door, knock on it, invoke knock with the staff and pause for a few moments. Hearing nothing, I announce myself. "Hello in there! I'm coming in, unarmed!" As if I could ever be unarmed. Heh. Thought that counts, right?

No response.

I open the door. More like a vault slab than anything else. It creaks. Of course it creaks. If it didn't creak in such a suitable environment, I'd leave, commission a spell to make doors creak and then come back and cast it on the door before opening it further. Maybe.

It's dark in here. Not like it would matter to me, but maybe the... Illithid would mind? This is certainly a surprise. It's - her? Yeah, definitely a her with that kind of body - sight might be used to the dark by now, though.

*Have you come to kill me?*

Ah, telepathy. I don't usually have much use for it, but there are a few races that prefer it and who I have not group-invited.

*Why would I kill you, little Illithid?* I send back to her. I don't think she expected a reply in kind. My Observe pegs her as a straight laced lawful good type. A good mind flayer. This has to be some sort of awesomely stupid rare random encounter.

*I am broken. My redemption is flawed. I broke my vow... Of nonviolence. I killed after swearing never to do so again.* Her head, initially raised towards me with the opening of the door, droops back down. *Have you come to kill me?*

*How did you break your vow?* I ask, settling closer to her on the stone ground. It is a hard little cell. Not a prison cell as I first expected, but more like a monk's meditation room. I notice a stone bowl and a magical meal-supplying spoon nearby. The scent of what was small fragments of brains comes from it.

*We were under attack. My brothers and sisters in arms here were dying... Being eaten alive and corrupted by demons... Monsters... As fast as I could knock them out they soon rose again.* She pauses. Her head presses further into her curled arms. I almost ask her to continue before she does of herself. *The head of the order commanded me to... Kill. To forswear my vow. So I did. It was easy, then. I... Ripped them all apart with my mind, my hands, and... My tentacles.*

*What happened then?* I continue to send thoughts her way. I'm now in arms reach of her, sitting against the wall. It seems like she'd prefer to hide, but the corner eliminates any further retreats on her part.

*Acts that made my vow-breaking meaningless. Another wave of demons came, more powerful than the other. They killed the head of this monastery - whom I had also sworn obedience to - and slaughtered everyone around me. Even as I attacked them - as I killed them - they ignored me, but for a few disdainful slaps and punches. The only things they did was toss me the... Severed heads... Of my fellow monks... While laughing. Laughing at me. Congratulating me on my vow breaking. Urging me to join in the slaughter.* She is curled into a fetal ball now, huddled in the corner.

I put an arm over her. The power of almost-hugs is awesome! *And then?*

*Then nothing. Everyone else was dead. The demons left. I returned to my dorm cell. I won't kill my self. I have at least that small bit of... Self-integrity... Left in me.* She is still. *I don't know if killing myself would doom me to see those demons again. To prove them right - to become one of them.* She waits a few more moments. *Have you come to kill me?*

*No.* I finally reply to the repeated question. *I've come to fix you. If you could just hold out a hand...*

[Party invite sent to -

...

*My name is Thaqualm.*

*Qualm would be more appropriate.* I explain what it means in a few mentally exchanged sentences. She agrees.

...

[Ambassadors: Qualm has joined the group.]

...

We exchange messages for a while. The end results being her willingness to come with me, and a transfer of her obedience vows to me as well. Felt like I got a brand new tentacled puppy or something. Rare breed, but still... Those are some serious vows. Can I afford the special brand puppy chow? So to speak.

The nonviolence one stayed broken. Both as a reminder, and because... Non-violence? Seriously? In these worlds? Yeah. I stomped that idea down hard.

...

The team later found us together in that cell. The mind flayer's tentacles were wrapped around my head. It was a nice scalp massage, dammit.

Had to do some fast talking, but we both came out of it all the better. I was thence forth known as 'she who uses bloody mind flayer tentacles as scalp massagers.' Only one or two were actually surprised.

Qualm, well... She became known as the 'good' mind flayer. At least after the detect alignment spells were cast, double checked and then triple-cast to make sure.

...

At Ozymandias, the topic of Illithid Savants came up. Following that led to her meteoric rise in power over the span of months.

...

- / Back in the present... / -

"Yes," I replied. "Seating, please." I waited without moving as Qualm did the same. A large stuffed plush chair for myself - almost a sofa - and a wooden stool for her appeared as she cast some voiceless, motionless magic.

She sat down on hers and I on mine, while I sighed at the mental image it created. The dynamics. The repeated pattern that we go through almost every time this happens.

I send out robe swaths to pick her up and deposit her on my lap. She is a bit stiff but relaxes after a few moments. I have to be more comfortable than a wooden stool, surely.

Still the whole disconnect with the actions. The vow of obedience - and all the associated baggage and related geas, bonds, and connections we've put between us - has made for an interesting mash up of a relationship status.

If anyone would ask Qualm what I was to her, she'd likely answer "my Empress." Full stop, nothing else. At least, not to other people. If anybody asked me what I considered her to be, the answer would be a bit longer. Friend, companion, number one go-two person, problem fixer, consultant, apprentice, scion, disciple... Many things, all-in-one. As time passes, she is getting more involved with me, more powerful and being paired with more responsibilities as well. Lots of eggs in this one basket.

I try to refrain from clear orders to her as much as normally possible, as the obedience aspect makes it so that I might as well being using Voice commands on her whenever I talk to her. So instead, I leave things as open ended as possible, for her to interpret and execute. Pretty much the exact opposite approach that would make sense for an infernal contract. The other approach is silence on my part. Very hard to break an order if none are given. I also encourage her namesake - to express her qualms about myself and any orders I give her or others. Private messages exchanges can be pretty fast and furious at times.

Her power is pretty much capped off at what is physically possible for non-god-like beings to obtain in this multi-verse. Me and her both just try to get exotic abilities for her, keeping in mind her preferences and theme as much as possible. There isn't much actually left for her to obtain, anymore. There are huge bounties and incentives for any new or unique abilities, spread across the city-state. We still get the odd 'winner', but most of them are duds. Not like I like want to actually list her powers anywhere. Surprise is a power of its own.

I tap her combination mask-helm-coif headdress. No actual order to remove it was given, but she gets the request. Gets that it is a request, and not an order. After a moment, she uses some random power or two to make it disappear, and I have a mind flayer in my lap.

I sigh.

Now I have mind flayer tentacles wrapped around my head.

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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Poking Universes Everywhere!

Sep 28, 2015

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#103

0-2) Master Writing Reference Sheet & Reader Questions

Author Notes: Here are all the official references and/or links I can think of, as applied to WEEMC. Might be some mild spoilers. Or heavy? Dun dun DUNN!

Updated: 29/09/2015

Specific Fictional Universes Referred To:

Worm by Wildbow ( Worm ): LOTS of references.

The Gamer by Sung San-young ( The Gamer (Webcomic) - TV Tropes ): forms foundation for concept; universe not yet directly referred to.

Aliens VS Predator ( Alien vs. Predator (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): shoulder mounted triple laser dot plasma cannons, Predator. Implied curb-stomb of a Predator.

Mass Effect ( Mass Effect (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): custom decal Heavy Predator H Armour, Grunt. Thinks Grunt would be scared/afraid of Rasq.

Citadel by Unillustrated ( Citadel): (Fucking) Monster (villain in-universe). Hector Hive. Monster: embodiment of 'unkillable horror movie monster' for SUPERHEROES); got/used power named Retro-chronal Path to Ultimate Terror (AKA Path to Terror).

Army of Darkness ( Army of Darkness ): The Necronomicon. Think the book is cool.

Warhammer 40k ( Warhammer 40,000 (Tabletop Game) - TV Tropes ): Imperium of Man, Chaos, God Emperor of Mankind. Fought, gone there on vacation.

DC/Marvel ( DC Comics (Creator) - TV Tropes & Marvel Comics (Creator) - TV Tropes ): The Flash, Superman, The Hulk, Lobo, Nightcrawler, Mister Freeze, lots more. (I don't bother to discern between them. Neener neener!) Awed by the Flash, think Superman is hot but squishy, Hulk is angry, Lobo is rude/ugly, Nightcrawler get OWNED by Oni Lee (thoughts). Mister Freeze mellowed by solving wife issue. Galactus, Ultimate Joker.

Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magick Obscura ( Arcanum: Of Steamworks & Magick Obscura (Video Game) - TV Tropes ): Tarant, Thurston's Fashion Palace, Dernholm. Demon portal. Forming an empire, farming the demon portal. Pacifism challenge done here.

The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher ( The Dresden Files ): Archive, Outsiders, The Accords, Mother Winter & Summer. Crashed Archive, dealt with Outsiders, signed Accords, chatty with Mother Winter & Summer.

Star Wars ( Star Wars (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): Obi-Wan.

Star Trek ( Star Trek (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): Q Continuum, Dyson spheres. Bad first impressions with the many Q.

Discworld ( Discworld ): A'tuin, Death. A'tuin, giant biosphere hat. Tea with Death at his place.

Dr. Who ( Doctor Who ): De Mat Gun, Reality Bomb.

Nightside ( Nightside ): The Speaking Gun.

Call of Cthulhu ( Call of Cthulhu (Tabletop Game) - TV Tropes ): Great Old Ones. Play chess and chat with Great Old Ones in a doomed world.

Exalted ( Exalted (Tabletop Game) - TV Tropes ): generic references.

Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein ( Stranger in a Strange Land ): grok!

Godzilla ( Godzilla (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): Godzilla! Godzilla crushes on Taaybet, signs movies.

Planescape: Torment ( Planescape: Torment (Video Game) - TV Tropes ): TNO, Coaxmetal, many others.

Harry Potter (series) by J. K. Rowling ( Harry Potter ): Harry Potter.

Magic the Gathering ( Magic: The Gathering (Tabletop Game) - TV Tropes ): planewalking.

The Chronicles of Amber (series) by Roger Zelazny ( The Chronicles of Amber ): shadow-walking, anchoring realities, Merlin, more.

The Lord of the Rings (series) by J. R. R. Tolkien ( The Lord of the Rings ): the One Ring.

The Nasuverse (combined franchise) ( Nasuverse (Franchise) - TV Tropes ): Mystic Eyes of Death Perception and more.

Still to do: list D&D modules, adventures, texts, etc.

Places, Strongholds & Geographic History

The Planar Sphere: wiki/Lavok's_Sphere

The Spelljammer (Ozymandias): Spelljammer - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Awakened, multi-form-stacked, upgraded. Public relations. Servitors.

Sigil: Sigil

The Blood War: Blood War

Netherese Empire: Netheril

Mythals: Mythal

Mythallars: Mythallar

The Far Realms: Far Realm

The Dark Tapestry: Dark Tapestry

The City of Union: Epic Level Handbook (p. 248+).

The Demiplane of Dread: Demiplane of Dread - Greywiki

Infinite Layers of the Abyss: Abyss

Baator, Nessus, Malsheem Citadel: Baator - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Online RPG, Stat Block & Book References:

Outer Dragons: lunar, solar, time, void, vortex ( Dragon )

True Dragons ( Dragon, True :: ); includes Chromatic dragons (black, blue, green, red, and white) and Metallic Dragons (brass, bronze, copper, gold, and silver).

Dabuses: Dabus - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Inevitables (quaruts, zelekhuts, maruts, varakhuts, kolyarut): Inevitable ::

Phaerimm: Phaerimm - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Sharn: wiki/Sharn_(Forgotten_Realms)

Elder Evils (All from D&D published text of same name.)

Atropus - Undead Moonlet. EE p. 16+. Destroyed destroyed, not merely banished.

Father Llymic - Far Realms monster. EE p. 32+

The Hulks of Zoretha - Nightmarish Giants. EE p. 48+

The Leviathan - World Serpent. EE p. 64+. Brain mined.

Pandorym - Godkilling Superweapon. EE p. 80+. Became 'Spot' (among other things).

Umbral Blot/Blackball ('Spot'): Umbral Blot (Blackball) ::

Rangnorra - Mother of Monsters. EE p. 96+

Sertrous - Snake Demon Lord. EE p. 112+

The Worm that Walks - Living Infestation. EE p. 128+

Zargon the Returner - Ever-Regenerating Monster. EE p. 144+. Destroyed. Horn turned into evil major artifact.

Named People & Associated Qualities

Sib-Ir (Sibby, checkmater) - female invulnerable avatar. William Manton

Favourite Fan-fiction: TBD!

Known Languages: Klingon, ancient Viking, self-invented ones, most any/every one.

Theme Song: 'Ship Happens'

Tarrasque (Rasq) - male tarrasque, unique monster Tarrasque ::

Favourite Books: TBD!

(The) Solar - female Solar angel Angel ::

Paragon template: Paragon Creature ::

Favourite Booze: TBD!

Luna (A'Lunaria Veetrol) - female Lunar Outer Dragon, ancient, 800+ years old Lunar Dragon, Ancient - Pathfinder_OGC

Picture: .

Caira Xasten - female human ur-priest. EE p. 20

Bard: Bard ::

Rogue: Rogue ::

Ur-priest: Ur-priest – Class – D&D Tools

Ghost: Ghostwalk, Libris Mortis (entire books!)

Possessing Items: Fiend of Possession (Fiend Folio p. 204), Possessed Objects (Book of Vile Darkness p. 25).

Obligatum VII (Infini) (Oby) - 'male' kolyarut inevitable. EE p. 86

Kolyarut Inevitable: Inevitable ::

Occult Slayer: Occult Slayer

Hexblade: Hexblade - Therafim RPG

Sentient item familiar: Item Familiars ::

Clockwork dragon ('Gearfang'): Clockwork Dragon - Pathfinder_OGC

Gearghost: Gearghost

Irthicax Vane - male zenythri monk. EE p. 101

Monk: Monk ::

Zenythri: . ?id=619&backlink=

Pseudonatural template: Pseudonatural Creature ::

Fleshwarper: Lords of Madness: The Book of Aberrations Excerpt (Ref. for groupies)

Alienist: Alienist – Class – D&D Tools (Ref. for groupies)

Thaqualm (Qualm) - redeemed villain, female mind flayer monk (+ illithid savant), Book of Exalted Deeds p. 17

Redeemed Villain: 'The Redeemed Villain' mechanic in Book of Exalted Deeds p. 17

Monk: Monk ::

Mind Flayer: Illithid - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Illithid Savant: Illithid Savant - D&D Wiki

Cookie Recipes: TBD!

Sarevok Anchev (Savvy): male human god-sparked being (divine rank 0? Subzero?). Sarevok Anchev

(Resurrected) Bhaalspawn: Bhaalspawn

Lover (?): Tamoko

Imoen (Moen): female goddess. Imoen

(Ascended) Bhaalspawn: Bhaalspawn

Adalon (Addy): female great wyrm silver dragon, advanced many times. Adalon

Silver Dragon: Silver dragon section in Dragon, True ::

Advanced Dragon: Epic Level Handbook (p. 179+).

Firkraag (Firky): male red dragon. Firkraag

Red Dragon: Red dragon section in Dragon, True ::

The Nameless One (Greyface): male human immortal, multi-classed. The Nameless One

Crime Speculation: What do you think TNO's original crime was? - Planescape: Torment Message Board for PC - GameFAQs

Dak'kon (Daks): male githzerai, fighter/mage. wiki/Dak'kon

Dialogue: wiki/Dak'kon/Dialogue

Etc: GameBanshee

Still to add: Morte, Ignus.

Notable People & Entities

Bahomut (dragon god): Bahamut

Tiamat (dragon god): wiki/Tiamat

The Lady of Pain: /wiki/Canon:Lady_of_Pain

Fell: characters/fell, Uncaged: Faces of Sigil (p 36), etc.

Kangaxx (Kangy): 'reforged' demi-lich .

Hastur (Great Old One, King-in-Yellow, robe supplier): www. /bestiary/monster-listings/aberrations/great-old-ones/great-old-one-hastur

Cthulu (Great Old One, R'lyeh tomb/demiplane supplier): www. /bestiary/monster-listings/aberrations/great-old-ones/great-old-one-cthulhu

Mogaru (Kaiju): www. /bestiary/monster-listings/magical-beasts/kaiju/kaiju-mogaru

Eggy: unhatched dragon egg.

Non-Notable, Boring & Gone People & Entities

Drizzt Do'Urden (good drow ranger): wiki/Drizzt_Do'Urden

Elminster Aumar (super-powered wizard): wiki/Elminster_Aumar

QUESTIONS FOR READERS: *updated 28/09/2015

Character theme songs! Any ideas? All welcome.

Named characters from any official D&D/Pathfinder sources that you think are especially interesting? I'm looking for a large cast of named, preexisting characters. The companions and some notables from the BG series and PST are a given (of sorts). Any interesting requests? Even if sourced from a single page of info. Qualm, for instance, is a full char fleshed from a single page of BoED. Brief blurbs are actually easier to work with than massive histories, as I don't want (or like) to drop kick canon *that* badly. Note the whole devil-gate-kidnap thing that eliminates most heroes, detailed in the Info Dump recently. Ideally they will be from a published D&D or Pathfinder text (soft or hardcopy), or from the BG series or PST (or Icewind dale game series or book trilogy).

Any ideas on a named man-whore, ideally chaotic good vibes or a suitably redeemable villian? With sub tendencies? 'He' will be an offical info-dump char and some comic relief. :D

Cities/modules/planes of note? It can in theory be 'all of them', but in practice may be another story...

How is the story going? Is it a 'believable' rendition of an insane-ish omnipotent being?

How well is the 'Gamer' vibe coming across? I'm not following the conventions so much but making it commonly accepted background with a few choice blurbs. Does anybody actually crave achievements, levels, fancy titles, quest code blue boxes, etc?

What auto-resurrecting, growing/spawning monsters/templates are known about? I'm familiar with the terrasque, vampires, liches (and variants), some sort of weird tree that has monster humanoid fruit (need to find it again)...

Taaybet needs an in-house servant! Who to pick?! (No harem... )

1) Invisible Friend: hyped up invisible stalker/unseen servant variant.

2) Neutered Doll: asexual/genderless construct/doll/mannequin/statue/thingy.

3) Patchworks: Igor/Frankenstein monster/Lurch mash-up.

4) Super-butler: like a young demon type (e.g. "Black Butler" manga) or old mustached.

5) Genie: rub my magically delicious lamp!

6) Other: magically different and mysterious!

I have a few ideas and arguments for each. I'm passing on *obviously* super sexualized types such as French maids; the butler (and genie) is also iffy for that reason. Given the whole "How shall I service my Empress today?" business, etc etc. (Though a constant old man/straight man butler could have some appeal...) Etc etc. Named options would be wonderful! Thoughts all appreciated! :)

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Oct 1, 2015

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#114

3.3 - The First Hours Are Rather Short

Place: City-state of Ozymandias, unknown subterranean room.

Position: Comfy in a comfy chair of comfy-ness.

Mood: Mellow.

Time: Normalized like a normal ninja.

Now I have mind flayer tentacles wrapped around my head.

Huh. I don't think Qualm's heart is in it.

What was first an instinctive response to the proximity of a warm blooded humanoid - myself - morphed over time into a security measure for any clones and a nice scalp message. She really surprised a few beings that way. Nowadays, it is like she just does it automatically.

What is going on in there, Q-lite?

I do a few scans of her past and present self message history. Qualm is busy. She acts as the head or primary consultant of almost every single agency, organization and affiliation in Ozymandias, as well as a few groups based out of the city-state. Add into that all the real-time monitoring of every single disaster recovery group on the battlefields above - almost completely done, thank goodness - and it is a wonder that she can manage all of it. I guess she is skill-upping the skill of... Multi-tasking?

I allow myself a subtle little sigh. Time to change the scenery. To think that I was enjoying normalized time for these past few hours!

I pull both of us inside my Mindscape, concentrating my senses there, and slowing time down as much as possible. The created room appears the same and the mental avatars we are in are positioned the same as well.

Let's see when she finally realizes it.

...

It takes a little under a second.

...

*Taaybet? Did you... Block the messaging system?*

"Nope," I audibly project from around the region of my head. I don't elaborate. I can tell she wants more of an answer but I'm not giving it just yet. I make the comfy chair a bit more sofa-like and lean back into it, shifting Qualm at the same time. She certainly seems more alive now. I have to wonder at how long she has been going at this pace? At least a month by my estimation. Probably more.

Her tentacles pulse around my head and her teeth grind pleasingly just above and to the front of my right ear.

*Can you please tell me what happened?*

"Sure," I reply. I then say nothing further. Is that evil? Borderline? Umm. I know that it certainly annoys me when people do that whole 'literal mode' speaking.

She retracts her tentacles from my head and just stares at me. Damn, she's gorgeous. Note that I don't mean that in the whole pan-omni-sexual thing I have rocking, more in the very literal sense. Some of the powers and abilities she has absorbed and developed are literally supernatural and inhuman beauty. Starting with drow, then nymphs, angels, and succumbi (and the odd demi-goddesses, I'm sure of it) and then grind the literal skill of weaponized attraction. Resurrecting them afterwards, if needed, of course. By the time any entity gets over the twisted tormented fact of the most beautiful being they have ever seen in existence has tentacles coming out of her head - perhaps by finding a willing brain donor or providing themselves a contingent delayed resurrection spell - they realize... Well... Qualm has yet one more very important vow.

The vow of chastity. Oh, those poor poor crushed hearts...

I laugh. She frowns. Tentacle frowning, gotta love it.

"This," pointing my chin around the room, finally ending with my eyes on her, "is your well earned break for a moment. Think of it as a massively extended time stop effect. I'm going to read a book. Let me know if you want something summoned." Qualm is still staring at me, but her eyes seem much more relaxed. Well, since I'm in my Mindscape...

Sib-Ir? Could you send me something that takes two to three hours to finish? Sort of light reading? I wave a hand in the air.

A moment later a thick bound book appears about an arm's length away from me, floating in the air. I cause the cover to rotate to face me, and...

No. Fucking. WAY.

...

SIB-IR!

...

Silence. Maybe a mental giggle or two, resonating throughout my Mindscape. Well, this would be light reading, I suppose.

I pull "The Yellow Empress' Corruption of Qualm - Guest Starring Sib-Ir!" towards me. The volume count in the upper right corner increases by one as I look at it. "Absolutely Not for Children!" "Will shift your alignment one step towards chaotic naughty if you fail your save!"

My save? My Auto-save? I don't get it.

Still, it can't be any worse than that one page fan-fiction from a while back.

A certain sense of foreboding fills the air with those last thoughts of mine. The book in front of me shudders and shifts. When it stops, the entire tome has taken on a light pinkish hue. There is only three words on the front cover, in bold red block cap writing: NYMPHONOMICON, ORGASMIC INFINITUS. It is glowing with pink, pulsing, burning light and covered with a slightly wet sheen, with drops rapidly beading on the cover and dripping off of it. Dripping in every direction except down. There is also a scent of... Lilies? Huh.

Hmm. Looks pretty heavy. Might take me more than three hours.

I ensure the effects of the obviously magical text don't affect Qualm and bring it closer. The cover pops open with a chorus of long, drawn out, feminine moans.

...

Um. Wow.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

Qualm tried talking, then later poking me for something, but I was busy. I summoned her some brains and she gave up.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

The three hour buzzer I made for myself went off. I hit the snooze button.

Gamer's Mind is really active right now.

...

That snooze buzzer keeps on going on and on again. Ah. Qualm! Empire!

I cough, and close the text. Slowly. I tag it and banish it into the depths of my Mindspace. One day...!

"Sorry, Qualm," I say to her, with a tight smile on my face. I wave in the direction of the now-gone hovering tome, briefly flaring an illusionary image of it.

She nods at me. *Thank you for the brains. Even if they were just mental constructs.* She pauses for a moment, stretching out across me on the sofa-chair. *Are we in your Mindscape again? It has been a while.*

I tilt my head a bit to better ogle her and nod back. "I got some administration ideas for you and Ozy to go over. I'll do that later, though, as I heard that you have some good news for me...?"

Qualm crosses her arms under her chest. *Yes.* Her tentacles twitch for a moment. *Would you prefer to start with the big or small details?*

"The big stuff, Qualm." I shift the sofa-chair into lay-z-boy mode and lie back in it, with my favourite mind flayer now lying on top of me. Her face inches from mine, tentacles twitching.

Gamer's Mind is very active right now.

Well, I'm sure Sib-Ir is getting tons of material for her fan-fiction. A mental "Yep!" echoes through my Mindscape.

Qualm props herself up on her elbows and start mentally talking to me again. *At the time of impact - the floating city hitting Ozymandias - there was no substantial injuries. The subterranean levels below the city-state allowed...*

...

She puts on what is her happy-but-sad expression. *I have also finally gotten the results from the Elder Evil Leviathan. Not that it hasn't been worth it, but eating that same vile fishy brains for weeks on end was sickening. No amount of flavouring-*

I interrupt her. "YES! Qualm! Tell me tell me tell me the details! Please!" I'm all but shoulder-dancing while lying back on the couch-seat. Her face falls. Ah yes, the long departed vow of non-violence still has lingering echoes.

Qualm does her best impression of a tentacular sigh. *It is scaled down from Leviathan's version of one thousand miles. I'm actually glad that it was reduced so much, otherwise there would be very serious problems with me staying inside the city.* I'm still shoulder-dancing, but now adding some finger pointing to it. Qualm adjusts her posture then sends a sad glare my way. *I have now obtained the supernatural power of True Death - any being that dies within the area of my aura cannot be raised by any means. Thankfully the control over my powers also allowed me to toggle it on or off after I practised with it for a little while. I can also optionally use in my direct physical attacks.*

I stop my limited dancing. I can imagine the difficulty inherent in an fully maxed out True Death radius. Given that the city-state of Ozymandias revolves around how death is cheap and true resurrection is only mildly expensive, that process suddenly stopping would be a disaster, to put things mildly. The death junkies would be a short lived fad.

Qualm gets some hugs for her conflicted, over-powered self. She knows that I know that she knows that I know... About the whole non-violence thing. Qualm has passed on the option I provided her before - the removal of those 'qualms' - but they help to define her. Much like looking like a cross between a dark-skinned, heavily air-brushed, perfect eleven rated porn star and a goddess of lust and beauty... With tentacles on her face and a bloody vow of chastity. Argh. The worse thing there is that I know she would drop that vow if I even seriously asked her to... Not going to walk that path.

Gamer's Mind is very active right now.

No wonder there was so much over-sexed fan-fiction of me and Q-lite from Sib-Ir. She is getting all of my unmanageable sexual frustration.

*I have never found a power revolving around hugs.* Qualm sends the thoughts to me.

"You can just make one, you know. I can have a talk with mister Ohim in the Gardens?" That creature is pretty neat. Huge little mix of insects, fungi and other living things shaped into a single winged entity. Too bad it doesn't actually have a regular brain as such, as it would simplify the process. Just showed up one day and started mucking around in the main green-space of Ozy. I seem to be the only one who is able to effectively communicate with it, though. Looks to be the case with most irregular creatures in this multi-verse cluster.

*Maybe when things have calmed down a bit.* I imagine dog-sized furry fuzzy hug-spiders. They would provide four times the hugs! If they could purr as well... Hmm.

Oh shit. I close my eyes and lean my forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry," I start, speaking softly. "I wasn't thinking when I was killing all those dragon gods earlier." Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid Taylor... "There were bloody god heads dropping around me and I never thought to temporal stasis them for you." I shut myself up. It was a perfect opportunity, too. Dammit.

*That was probably for the best.* Qualm pulls back a bit and looks at me, still in range of my ultimate hug powers.

What? I do my best impression of a gob-smacked village yokel. "How so?"

*Two words: divine insanity.* Ah yes, that. The condition that the lovely Solar of Ozymandias suffers from and also seems to infect a fair portion of the good aligned divine beings around this plane.

"True." I nod at her, relieved. "Though I can still freeze them for you. Once we get everything sorted you can dig in." Qualm nods back at me.

Brains... Hmm... A lightbulb physically appears above my head. I dismiss it with a thought. Weird things happen in my Mindscape.

"Qualm. You've probably already done this, but I have to ask - you have used polymorph any object to get the sorta-brains and powers of items, right? There are probably hundreds - thousands! - of suitable weapons, armours, wondrous items and more." I get a bit excited. "It might even work on undead and constructs!"

She is very silent. Her entire body has frozen up, to the point of almost being a statue.

"Qualm...?" No way. There is no way she could have forgotten that common level eight arcane spell, right...?

*I'm so incredibly stupid.* Tears start to run down her face.

Well shit.

...

It takes a few hours to calm Qualm down. Since she is normally the epitome of over-achieving perfectionism, when she finds a flaw in her self or her operations it hits her hard. When it is as big a glaring oversight as this was... Well. I'm just glad she is not offering to ritually kill her self again. I'd say that that would not have any effect these days - auto-resurrecting powers are awesome! - but her recent True Death acquisition may make it possible.

If I were to bypass those powers and resurrect her again anyways... There would be some pretty heavy questions. And point loss. Don't forget the point loss!

I sigh.

More hugs for my number one mind flayer.

...

Qualm has bounced back hard. She is actually dancing right now. She got up earlier, starting pacing and then... Wow.

Gamer's Mind is very active right now.

*...armour has at least two hundred types...* It looks like I started some sort of new mega project of hers. She continues moving. My eyes continue to track her. I allow myself an mental whimper.

Gamer's Mind is very active right now.

*...material type qualities could...* This is all only really possible after I 'jail broke' her base Illithid Savant abilities. The core features of Savants are their utter inability to acquire powers based on physical features of consumed creatures, their dependence on brains, and the limits based on their developmental experience.

*...many different epic-level enchantments...* Those core features were changed or removed as needed. The only one that really stayed was the dependence on brains. I don't want her becoming some sort of omnipotent omnivore like... Certain beings I'm not going to mention. The limits were the easiest to remove, as it simply required her to gorge down on other living Savant brains - mass auto-resurrected as needed - until the so-called 'power reserve' was so massive a certain internal barrier was removed. Shapeshifting and Gamer's Party solved the rest. The skill system is perfectly suited for breaking limits just like this.

*...tentacles into throwing teleporting returning plane-shifting homing spears of greater slaying? Or perhaps...* To think that I thought Qualm was utterly broken and overpowered before. New heights are being reached! She is utterly underutilized here. Perhaps an assistant? I think for a moment. No, she would need a dedicated squadron to come close to replacing all the work she does here. Unless there is some sort of demi-god of administration? Or perhaps an awakened hundred headed hydra? Hmm...

I better cut her off. Don't think she will stop otherwise. But... Dancing! Fine, hormone-addled self, you get a few more minutes.

...

I allowed a hour. I will need these recordings later. For... Research. Yes.

...

"Qualm."

*...and then great reflection and... Yes, Empress?* She slows her mental communication then finally stops, focusing back on me.

"Give me a written proposal for all desired qualities with this new option available to you in under a day," I say, while staring at her now at-attention self.

*Yes, Empress!* She emphasizes it with a strong nod, face tentacles jiggling with the movement. Other parts also jiggled with this movement, but I'm not paying attention to them. So incredibly, incredibly not.

Gamer's Mind is very active right now.

I really, really need to find someone or something for me later today... With a sigh, I continue. "Any other significant news to pass my way? Just the highlights, please. I'm thinking a meeting would work better." I think for a few moments. "Qualm, set up a meeting of the full city council for just after noon tomorrow, alright?"

She nods in my direction, and I pat the chair beside me. Qualm is again beside me, but more sitting all comfy like, rather than lying down beside me. Pity. I'll manage.

*How extensive do you want the attendance to be? Should anyone in particular be... Excluded?* Qualm asks, looking at me.

Hmm. Good question. "We can leave Adalon out, she will be busy with the new dragon eggs, right...?" I get a nod. "We can send her a copy of the relevant minutes. Firky will get an invite as well. He is a long game I'm playing, and I won't be able to enjoy it if he is not around." Another nod, but somewhat hesitant in comparison to the first. "Give Savvy an invite as well. Metal and mining industries will be hit by the sinking." More nods. "Include all the high ups in the various departments, regional directors and military. Necromancers are a must. The highest ranking officials of the Netherise. As well as..." I continue for a while, getting nods as appropriate. Qualm quickly rattles the details back to me as confirmation. Perfect as usual.

"Highlights? News?" I ask Qualm again.

*Of course, Empress. At the time we both came into your Mindscape, over ninety nine percent of the battlefield, floating cities, fallen cities and dragon lairs have all been scoured. I assisted as needed. The processing of acquisitions will be complete prior to the meeting tomorrow, as well as access to the more notable high-level finds if you want to review them before then.*

"Yes, please."

She continues. *I'm assuming that the inability to access the dragon god's divine demi-planes is your doing?*

"Yeah. I just connected them to my Domain, the same way I did with the other gods that sought sanctuary here. I've give you personal access to them after we are done here - shouldn't take you more than a few hours to clear them all with no distractions?" Of course not. Clearing a few divine demi-planes by herself? Scouring them down to the metaphorical bedrock for every single copper coin? Not. A. Problem! "They will fully merge eventually, so it won't matter if you miss anything."

She glares at me. Ah yes, the implication that it would take her hours and that such a search would be less than totally perfect. I give Qualm an almost totally sincere and large smile, and she continues. *Of course, Empress.* I'll be keeping an eye on her and the area around her - no way am I going to let some rogue evil artifact or such mess her up in what is supposed to be 'tame' land. *The Netherise are mostly settled, including the mass resurrected ones. There were some that could not be resurrected, implying that either the infernal or celestial realms have obtained their souls.*

I grimace. I had hoped that we would get everyone, but it would have been too much to expect. I'll need to come down hard on any use of mythals or mythallars. Policy writing. Blarg.

*The found dragon eggs are going through various magical decontamination processes and being shunted to Adalon. They were all sent there prior to us entering here. However, there are a few very serious concerns.* She pauses in her telepathy.

What. Qualm saying there are serious concerns? Did some (more!) gods attack them or something?!

*While the searching teams did find a number of eggs, it was nowhere near the amount we expected. I investigated on my own initiative and found traces of an teleporting, plane-shifting thief of an unknown nature. I attempted to pursue, but the tracks led to planes that did not exist anymore. Either the thief or someone else used the extremely rapid destruction of demiplanes as a covering method. I was unable to find further details.* Qualm is intensely looking at me now.

Holy shit. Something out there is busting out the big guns. I've got a few questions, but I'll wait and see if Q-lite answers them before I voice them.

*No time reversal scrying methods were able to perceive past details while the thief or thieves were in the dragon lairs. Nearly every person I communicated the existence of the thief to forgot what I said moments after, unless protected by Ozy, high grade enchantments or other epic spells. Only a few people retained memory of the info regardless of external circumstances, most notably being Ozy's highest tier adventurers. Additional scrying attempts were attempted for the missing dragon eggs - using a few commonly available artifacts here in Ozy - but none were found.*

Those highest tier adventurers were nearly all only people that I've used Gamer's Party with. This is worrying.

I interject. "So they were destroyed, eaten, hidden beyond our means or somehow hatched. Maybe in a very advanced time boosting demi-plane?"

Qualm blinks. *Yes, I had considered all except the last option.* Her face falls. I give her a hug and she sighs and continues. *The dragon bodies - including that of the gods - have all been safely stored. All undead and possession attempts were halted successfully. A few dragons were captured alive, though still clearly insane.*

"I'll bring that up during the meeting," I say. I've got a few ideas for the dragon parts, alive and otherwise. "I trust that they are all very well guarded?"

She raises an eye ridge in my direction. *Of course, Empress.* Qualm continues. *The Netherise citizens have had some settling in problems, but the sheer reality of the situation has helped to quell dissenters. The rather violent introduction they had to our city-state quashed a number of the more obviously spoiled. Escapees and runners have been dealt with internally.* Her tentacles go still. Runners and traitors don't go far in Qualm's books, even though one of her life themes is that of redemption of other villains.

*Also...* She gives me a tentacle-smile. *I can give you the more notable, already identified artifacts as soon as we get out of your Mindscape. I can access the dragon god demi-planes while you go over them?*

Yes! Here is for hoping for some more awesome evil cursed major artifacts of cosmic doom!

Last edited: Oct 1, 2015

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

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#115

A/N: Warning: nightmare sequence. Disturbing, somewhat.

3.4 - The First Hours Are Rather Short

Place: City-state of Ozymandias, unknown subterranean room.

Position: Super comfy in my super comfy chair!

Mood: Squee! Artifacts!

Time: Normalized like normal ninjas.

Yes! Here is for hoping for some more awesome evil cursed major artifacts of cosmic doom!

...

I was not disappointed. I'm overflowing with weapons, armours, jewellery and the odd accessory. I send them all to the vaults for later processing, with a few choice pieces into my Inventory and Domain. Qualm left to go do all the various everythings that she does.

However, the quest for major artifact grade socks and other sundries still continues. There doesn't seem to be a big market in artifact grade clothing. Pity.

...I think that I'm actually looking forward to farming Hastur now.

...

I teleport to the receiving chamber in the Captain's Tower. A few moments later I'm striding through my doors, giving a nod to Nodwick and his nose - looking snazzy in tuxedo styled leather apparel - and pause for a sec beside him. I note my old impulse to toss my coat his way before realizing I don't have one. I've had the yellow robe for a while but I have yet to completely eliminate all old habits. He is standing at attention right outside the door to my bedroom. I'm sure he wasn't there a few seconds ago - but at the same time I'm sure that any time I would actually check in on him he would be busy doing something. Ultimate henchmen powers. Go figure. As it is to my benefit, I've no real reason to attempt to remove the mystery around it. There are so few of those left.

"Nod - I'm going to actually try to sleep sleep. This is a big deal for me, and there is a full council meeting tomorrow, noon-ish." He is doing the mild levitating effect conferred upon him by the bracers of invulnerability. They were originally over-powered by design, but some significant amount of tinkering allowed them to be usable. Nodwick appreciates the whole not dying thing as well, especially given how many times it happened in his old adventuring groups. He seems happier here, at least. "I'll be sealing my room till I get up some time in the morning."

He levitates up a bit higher before acknowledging me with a nod. "Of course, Mistress Taaybet. Will you be wanting your usual breakfast then?" He waits, oversized nose pointing in my direction. A blink.

Hmm. Good question. "No, I think I'll pass on it. I'll think of something else then," I said, with a half turn towards my door. "Thank you."

He gives a half bow but otherwise remains standing. Float-standing? Stand-floating? Argh. Whatever.

I enter my room.

...

I'm understating how much of a big deal this whole sleep thing is. Only with the combined convincing of Sib-Ir and Ozy over the past few hours have I gotten to the point where I feel comfortable about the idea. It was the releasing of her from imprisonment that provided the largest convincing catalyst.

I give Sib-Ir a hug and she mumbles into my hair, pseudo-sleepily. The last little while really tested the sound proofing of my quarters. I smile at her and she shifts her fingers. Mmm. Yeah. I'm really looking forward to some very nice dreams. It's been a great long while for those.

Nothing can go wrong. I'm... Safe here, right? Finally?

I pull Sib-Ir towards me and kiss her forehead. Snuggle deeper under my sadly mostly mundane yellow silk comforters. With a thought, the lights go out. Now... Time to take the plunge. I enable the Sleep option and related Dreams sub-option in my menu and activate the former manually. A wave of blackness covers my vision, and then...

...

[Now entering: Taylor Hebert's Eternal Nightmare]

In a land of nightmares, a sleeper wakes.

Well. Fuck.

It has certainly been a long, long time since I've been here. Centuries, at least. Both subjective and total. I think I remember vaguely about warning myself and others that ever truly sleeping - ever dreaming - would be a disaster of epic proportions. Yet... Here I am. Not the best choice.

This is such a totally blase and cliched landscape. Boring, really. The sky is my usual endless black void, filled with stars. The black seems somehow more dark than any natural sky would have and the stars more clear, more distant, and yet more close all at the same time. As bright, distinct and colourful as those little rainbow hued pinpricks are, they are absolutely overwhelmed by the blackness around them.

There are black clouds in the way. I know that they are of ash and will smell of burning flesh. A few flakes fall down and I catch them between the black claws of the hand on my third arm. I continue looking at the sky, because it is more boring than looking at the landscape. I like looking at the sky. It must be more interesting than the land around me. That is the only reason. Yeah. I'm sure of it.

The clouds disperse, heading for the horizons on all sides. The stars move, subtly. Some in straight lines, others blinking in and out of existence, others do some sort of random dance. I blink my set of six eyes against the sight. Raise clawed fingers against the sky and blot out the words forming there. I already have a sense of what they will say. I don't want to read it. Don't want to see it. Don't want to know that those words are getting larger and closer and smaller to me every moment.

The stars are right. They are always right. They speak to her, and offer certainties if she would but listen.

I look down instead. Look at my many hands. Another shade - another quality - of utter blackness, yet again filled with stars. So unoriginal, oh nightmares of mine. I shake my hands for a few brief moments and they revert to a more normal single pair of flesh-toned ones. I know that they will revert again, out of my direct line of sight. But that won't matter. I have a few seconds that I can pretend - that I can delude myself - that I am in control. That my thoughts matter.

Her old, well-known form has not been used for a long time.

Time to endure this. At least I'm not slowed or such, and I have Gamer's Mind to rely on. I'm glad that I don't normally sleep while dead - in my altered existence spirit-like form. I scan the horizon in all directions. It is empty, as usual, except for... The thing in the center. Hopefully I can avoid drawing it's attention for a while longer.

GREETINGS, GODDESS.

A long forgotten voice breaks the silence.

Or not. I turned off the Narrator feature nearly as soon as I obtained it the first time. In here, I don't have that luxury. Picking a direction at random away from the center, I start to slowly walk out with my black taloned clawed feet and long serpentine tail dragging behind me. No point in going fast, as the speed won't change anything.

WELCOME BACK TO YOUR DOMINION.

This voice invites her.

Bare, white bones everywhere. Thin and thick, bleached, yellowed and tainted. All with the overly dark, inky shadows around them. The shadows that pulse and quiver with my every moment, every step. Dancing to my little tune... Shadows. Shadows that lean and stretch towards me just the slightest amount with every movement.

This is the easiest part. All I need to do is walk. Walk... And wait. Anticipate.

Bones splinter and break beneath me. Some of them sound like egg shells.

The dreamer walks ever-forward.

...

I'm in what I call phase one of my regular nightmare. Not that I've had this nightmare often - perhaps once or twice before, tops - but I've analyzed and dissected it to such a degree that it seems like I've had it countless times. Before my big first major breakdown - thank you, Dragon of Earth Bet - my dreams regularly followed a template of video game or movie trailers, with a dash of sort-of prophecy thrown in for good measure. Now it is just the 'little' voice to go along with the big one.

After that time and the first instance of this nightmare, I've tried to avoid normal sleeping as much as possible. Tried alternatives of meditative states, enchanted sleep and altered comatose conditions. They all have there own benefits and drawbacks.

I call this phase... Little people.

...

Slaves of the dreamer attempt to supplicate her.

Small figures start to crawl out behind the bones as I walk through them. Every single one like a tiny little Pillsbury dough boy, sans chef hat, barely as big as the tip of my pinky finger. It takes less than a minute for the entire floor canopy to be covered with them, multiple layers thick. There is a small clear zone around me that developed as I stopped moving. I have to keep moving. I already know that the center of the entire dreamscape has dissolved and a spreading void is coming towards me.

"Hail, Goddess!" Their massed voices blend together perfectly. As if it was something rehearsed millions of times. "Hail, Taylor He-"

"That is not my name," I growl, the words pouring out of my throat and mouth like the black flames that accompany them. "I am Taaybet." I'm amazed for a few seconds. I didn't think that interrupts were possible. That any sort of pattern breaking was possible. That means that things might be different. Better... Or much, much worse. Considering that this is a nightmare, well... I'm not going to count on anything positive happening.

The worthless chattel fails, as expected.

All of the little people are frozen in response. I need to keep on walking. There are no safe spots, so... I shrug and take the first step and feel them squish under my feet and trailing tail. A new colour has been added to the landscape - blood red.

A six-eyed blink and the landscape has changed. Where once was bone plains, now lies a mix of pseudo-Aztec temples and skyscraper towers. All scaled to the size of the little white doughy people. All around me with no clear path. Any path I choose would have to be through them all.

I start to do my own little impression of Godzilla in a primitive Tokyo. Even that first, single step was enough to start a chain of buildings falling. Every building breaks with the sound of egg shells cracking and the faint noises of babies crying in the distance. I am perfectly calm, stable and collected and always will be. Maybe I can have some French toast after this?

The screaming starts at the same time, from millions of tiny throats. Not in terror, or awe... But worship. Of me. They start to run - to surge - in my direction. They wouldn't dare to run away. I trained them better than that. I shake my head in an attempt to clear those thoughts.

WHY DO YOU BOTHER RESISTING?

Endless rivers of little people pour towards me, like the ground is a living white tide of small humanoid pebbles. None dare to go higher than my ankles. They either try to land beneath my feet or tail or simply tear out their own throats in the desperate hope that their feeble sprays of blood will reach me.

The slaves continue their entreaties to their goddess, as they are worthless, useless, pathetic and incapable of anything else.

I shrug and carry on. Have to think about it objectively. I stop for a few seconds and wiggle my toes. It feels a bit like a mud soak for my feet. I do my best to ignore the small, mobile, wiggling pieces and carry on.

The dreamer cares nothing for the efforts of the slaves.

...

I pass by skyscrapers with small figures jumping off, all the better to die at my feet. Temples of various sizes also pass by. Tiered step and pyramidal, they have endless crowds around them and a perpetual death orgy at the top, the stairs coated in gore.

The endless amounts of chattel are as to nothing, compared to her magnificence.

This continues for an indefinite length of time.

...

I finally arrive at a border. Not a real border, just a transition from one type of landscape to another. Behind me, the domain of the little ones and their buildings. The faceless, endless nobodies. In front of me lie a different terrain - that of heads. Heads emerging from the ground, ranging from just parts of their face to all the way out past their chins, necks free.

The dreamer grants these useless remembrances a few scant moments of her time.

There is a moment of hesitation on my part at the actual demarcation point. Before I do the first actual step onto the... Heads. Dream phase two: named voices.

I do my best to ignore the faces and associated memories that come with it, and put my foot down. Just like the little people, it squishes. This time it is mixed in with some crunch. Like a rippling wave, all the heads orient towards me, focus their eyes and open their mouths. They start all talking to me.

THE GALLERY OF YOUR INFERIORS CONTINUE.

These remnants of once useful chattel begin to entreat their goddess.

Anyone could think that a mass of voices would drown each other out and become a sort of jumbled mess. I'm not that lucky. I get to hear every single one, carried to me crystal clear in some sort of vocal queue time compression, expansion or other bullshittery. I'm perfectly calm, though. Have been since this nightmare started. A little bit of an... Itch. Maybe some sort of pounding sensation in my head - very rapid, very faint.

As long as I'm concentrating on my own thoughts, I'm not listening to the voices. That is not always a perfect process.

"...an artist, Taylor! A bloody inspiration! I'll never be able to catch up!" Jack Slash.

"Predator..." Shadow Stalker.

"Give it back! GIVE! IT! BACK!" Moord Nag.

"PLEASE JUST LET ME DIE..." So many. So very, very many...

There is really only one I don't want to see. To hear or know of. So, like all good rail roaded storybook difficulty games, she is the one I'm about to step on next.

...

A devoted slave catches the attention of her goddess.

I'm frozen above her. I don't yet know whether it is because of myself or the nightmare. My eyes meet the gouged out holes where hers should be. Her name never known, and all the more conspicuous for such a notable absence.

A female demon child head, red skinned, hairless. Two small horns, also red. Bloody eye-sockets still bleeding. Always bleeding. Always crying those bloody tears. The words come out of my mouth and I can't stop them.

"Why are you crying, child?" The words ooze out of my mouth like honeyed poison. Which, in fact, they are.

"My parents...," she sobs, head tilting up to focus on my voice. "They're dead. They were dead when I came in the house. I can't... Can't manage... Without them."

"Manage what, child?" I feel my face contort into an overly large grin. Fangs emerge from my jaws; the liquefied words drip down my neck onto my chest.

"The only thing parents are really good for, of course - sacrifice to the goddess..." No..! "...Taylor-Hebert." I am perfectly calm. Perfectly sane. Everything is just fine.

"I had to give up my eyes for the insult involved. I'll be carving out my own heart later, once I find the keep-alive drugs." I am perfectly calm. This is just a nightmare. A nightmare fueled by memories. Too many memories. She mutters to her self with a whisper. "Stupid parents committing ritual suicide when I'm out at school."

"Except I can't find the keep-alive drugs!" She does a combination laugh and sob. "I only managed to use the keep-conscious-pain-amplifier drugs. They are everywhere though, so it wasn't that big a challenge. I don't want to die improperly. That... Is a big no-no. I'd be brought back a few times to insure I do it properly..." The female demon does a few rapid breaths before calming herself.

She repeats the mantra of my people. My first empire, now gone. Extremely gone. "Hail Taylor-Hebert, goddess-empress of all time and space." I am willing my foot to come down. It is shaking with effort. Some signs that my thoughts have an impact here. "Goddess of Terror. Goddess of Torture. Goddess of Suffering. Goddess of Eternal Life. Goddess of Death. Goddess of Domination. Goddess of Infinite Power. Goddess of..." I finish off the more common ones in my head automatically. Ruin. Imprisonment. Slavery. Conflict.

Her skull caves in like a jelly donut under my foot. Pulped pieces coat my talons and calf, with other bits on the surrounding heads. Now I want some jelly donuts.

Not every devotion sways the path of the dreamer.

I walk on automatic for a while, thinking of egg dishes and over filled jelly-filled pastries.

...

No hesitation at the border to the third phase, one which I call melted people. There is the least amount of variety here, as it only has recently known beings and people. It includes Qualm, Oby, Ciara, Luna and more - all posed like grey-scale statues, everywhere. From the street vendors I greet on the street of Ozymandias, to the companions I see on a nearly daily basis. Everyone with the slightest amount of recognition or memory from this multiverse cluster.

The same damnable inky black shadows are everywhere. Still pulsing and reacting to me.

POWER IS EVERYTHING.

Every single statue tracks my movement. Reaches out to me. Beseeches me in every way possible. Unlike the heads, however, they are all quiet. Unnaturally so. I know the trap of this place.

As I walk among them, the statues slowly crumble. I walk carefully here, for if I don't... I glance at the nearest statues in my way with my six eyes and it bubbles and melts into the ground in seconds. The expression of betrayal and terror on their faces as they dissolve... I'm so very used to it by now. Need to do some beam testing with Rasq later. Maybe some stone carving? No Mount Rushmore here. Yet!

...

YOU ARE ULTIMATE POWER.

The voice tells the dreamer the absolute, complete and utter truth.

They are but moths and I am a very, very bright flame...

...

YOU ARE NOT A CREATOR.

The dreamer's attempts at creation matter nothing in the face of infinite infinities.

Every single twisted desire, invitation, temptation of excess and exercise of power are presented to me here. A statue garden would be a great idea. Very calming, soothing.

My presence... Dissolves. My gaze... Melts. My touch? Well... A tail twitch and one single statue is brushed against. A stony Luna, with her tail raised, head looking back at me in invitation. A rather risqué pose - the exact same one I made during the destruction of Tiamat. For reasons that I won't be going into, thank-you-very-much.

At that exact instant, every single representation of that dragon starts screaming. Boiling. Melting. The noise does not stop when they are puddles on the ground. I have perfectly valid reasons for not paying attention to the words being screamed. I am completely calm, cool and collected.

If I can ignore the things locked up inside me eternally suffering, a few minutes - or hours - of this is nothing. At. All...

YOU ARE AND WILL ALWAYS BE JUST A DESTROYER.

The dreamer will come to know this absolute truth in time.

...

The melting continues. The screaming continues.

The dreamer is untouched by all that passes her by.

I walk on, and think of tomato soup. Hot tomato soup with white noodles.

...

YOU WILL NEVER END.

While the dreamer may meets limits, she herself is limitless.

Eventually, I come to the end. There is no more land in front of me - just more black, starry void. I stop at the edge, my talons hanging over the smooth, slick border.

The melted remains of all the statues continue to pour over the edge, screams fading from every single drop as they fall. They never completely disappear - each and every single voice, distinct and unique, can be heard perfectly if I just make the slightest bit of mental effort.

Phase four, now. All I have to do is turn around and walk back towards the center. At least that is how it played out before. I suppose the same thing will happen if I wait right here or step off the edge. I am perfectly calm, cool and collected.

I think that I'll just stay here for a while. Staring into the distance. Relax a bit. No other reason. None. At. All...

...

The very last bit of formerly statue-filled landscape tingles under my taloned feet as it dissolves. I'd sigh now, if I could.

A few moments of weightless falling and I land in a canyon bordered by five monolithic towers in the distance. Everything here looks like the sky, solidified. Wasn't this supposed to be a hand? The towers curve in towards me.

Ah. Looks like something has changed. Last time I was here it was only as big as small stadium. Those stadiums could all be stuck on the tops of those finger-towers now. I'm really hoping that the scale increase has only come from my grinding my A'tuin-capped giant size limits instead of some twisted recollection of how much more insane I've been getting on the inside.

I've been trying to do good for-

STOP FIGHTING YOUR FATE, TAYLOR HEBERT.

-quite a long while. Fixing problems, making impossible dreams real. Turning evil to the side of sorta-slightly-maybe-good. Whether they like it or not. I'm not looking at my karma stat because I know that it has gone positive so much. It has advanced by leaps and bounds. It is an amazing indicator of my amazing awesome progress! Yes. It. Is. I am calm, cool and-

STOP LOOKING FOR A POINT OR REASON OR RATIONALE.

-collected. For completion's sake, this phase is also named. I call it black mirror. Not at all because I think it is some crazed variant representation of my inner psyche and demons. No, not. At. All. It was just a name that fit. That fit perfectly. I'm not going to think about the whys and were-fores of that.

The tower fingers have completely wrapped around the canyon palm. With a barely perceptible lurch, the entire landscape tilts and moves. I remain anchored to the ground, regardless of which direction my senses tell me is 'down.' This should take a minute or so.

THERE ARE NONE.

The dreamer is told a truth that she had discarded in the past.

When my sense of balance tells me that I am completely upside down, the tower-fingers open up again. I know where I am. I know what is beneath me. Conscious action and directed control blur together as I tilt my six-eyed head skyward.

For a moment, there is nothing. Then two massive yellow eyes blink. Not truly solid yellow, of course. Just a gathering of pinpricks of light. Likely just reminders of yellow suns I destroyed, and same coloured life energies of significant beings, places and things. Even my nightmares recognize my palette choices! Woo hoo!

YOU ARE THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS AND THE ONLY THING THAT EVER WILL.

I see the star-lined edge of blackness move as the words are felt through and around me. The mouth remains open with the cessation of the last spoken word and I fall towards it. In what could be seconds or years, I pass beyond the edge of the star lined mouth, yellow eyes tracking me all the while.

EVERYTHING ELSE IS MEANINGLESS.

My sense of up and down all dissolve. There is no frame of reference or structure or anything to base myself relative to. Only the very first thing I really saw when I first entered this nightmare - those starry letters. My exit sign. What form will they take this time, I wonder.

...

INFINITE POWER, UNLIMITED POTENTIAL AND TRUE FREEDOM ONLY REQUIRES ONE THING:

[Auto-Complete Main Quest?]

While the words look huge in the sky, they seem to condense any crystallize as they get closer and smaller at the same time. Those were the first words I saw clearly.

...

[Yes]

The 'Yes' was the only option below it. Around that word were tons of other linked commands. Kind of like some super macro. I recognize a few as they get clearer.

[Enable Gamer's Mind, Active Mode]

[Enable Path to Terror]

[Remove Off Feature From Gamer's Mind, Active Mode and Path to Terror]

Well. Anything in existence with those options on are pretty much screwed.

[Enable Viral Energy Form]

[Deploy Von Neumann Entities]

[Trigger Ultimate Nullifier]

[Activate Reality Bomb]

Except that there will not be a reality left. Handy. Convenient! My nightmare self thinks of everything! Lots more lesser options all are connected. They all have the themes of making all the disturbances go away without bothering me.

I'd be tapping my feet if there was anything to tap them against. As is, I flick them against each other.

PRESS THE BUTTON.

I press it, and all the dialogue boxes dissolve into nothingness. Have to get out of here somehow, right? Now for the quick and easy transition back to the waking realm. Not.

The dreamer is half-way there on the road to recovery.

I sigh. At least I can now. Time for the credits.

...Do I at least get to pick the music? No? Well, I hope it is not too annoying.

Spoiler: F-777 - I'm So Classy

...

Little ones and statues dancing all around me is not as exciting as you would think, no matter how cool the synchronized moves are.

...

Coming soon to an omniverse near you: "Taylor Hebert Destroys Everything Forever." Rated Infinite Z for Annihilation.

...

Break dancing. Not too shabby.

...

Please be warned that Taylor Hebert is bad for your health; proximity to Taylor Hebert may include - but is not limited to - unhealing perpetual wounds, permanent crippling or maiming, infatuation, obsession, addiction, dependence, death, enslavement, domination, bodily annihilation, mind/ego/psyche reformation, time-stream erasure, soul destruction, essence absorption and/or consumption; scaled damage ranges through sub-atomic to multi-universal; nine out of ten Elder Gods recommend that YOU RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN. The tenth was not able to be reached for comments.

...

The robot! They are doing the robot! In a freaking conga line! Where is nightmare-sourced popcorn when you really need it. I hold out my hands and look around expectantly. A few moments later I remain disappointed. At least I can grumble.

...

This nightmare was brought to you by Taylor Hebert's karma, her memories and the collective experiences of her lifetime. This nightmare would like to thank Taylor Hebert for her contributions to her own suffering, as well as the fine work of Shadow and everyone else she has ever encountered. This nightmare is the copyrighted and exclusive property of Taylor Hebert; attempts to copy or access this nightmare will result in insanity, death, and likely absolute annihilation. Thank you for viewing!

Press the button, Taylor.

...

Finally! The darkness of the dreamscape fades. I blink and I return to the waking world and the blaring sounds of the city-wide alarm klaxon and screaming.

A/N: There will be collateral damage from her nightmare. Given the multi-verse situation and Taaybet's own powers, any takers on estimates on degrees of such? 'Realistic' or hyperbolic all welcome. :D

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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#117

Akilla said:

"Collateral damage"...hmm...how about this: the world has turned into Bet and everyone is stuck doing the conga forever.

Why NOT! :D

(Non) Canon Omake - The Line Drawn By Taylor

Finally! The darkness of the dreamscape fades. I blink and I return to the waking world and the blaring sounds of the city-wide alarm klaxon and screaming.

That sounds like the Endbringer alarm, I think to myself. I sit bolt upright, gripping my squeeze-activated Siberian plush toy. Some sort of party as well? Those don't sound like screams of pain.

"Let's rip them to pieces and eat their still-beating hearts!" The words seem almost... Affectionate. No idea why the doll was stuffed down the front of my pajamas, either. Weird.

Oh, you silly Sib-Ir... Sibby... Siberian! I shake my head for a bit, confused. Stretch out my arms covered by my snazzy yellow PJs. I'll need to get dressed, regardless. I'm not going to an Endbringer shelter in my sleeping clothes!

...

For some reason all of my clothes - dressers and closet - were yellow. Except underwear, in which case their simply wasn't any. Makes the decision to wear them easier - I don't!

Got the strangest feeling that the doll was watching me as I dressed as well. It didn't help things when I did a few cheesecake poses in the mirror and it suddenly fell over.

...

After picking out a sturdy, yellow robe from among the other selections - it has four long swaths that could double as belts - I did a quick pass through the house. No messages from dad on the counter, so I suppose that he is already in a shelter or something. Hope he is safe.

...

Leaving, I lock the door behind me with a thought and jump the stairs to land at the bottom. Easiest way to avoid that rotten step.

Which way is it to the nearest Endbringer shelter? Do I need to go back inside and check the maps? How... Am I forgetting this?

I'm standing there for a few moments, indecisive, when a robotic dragon appears. It is a mix of chrome, purples and blues. Very pretty.

"Taylor Hebert?" It asks.

"Yes?"

"Please come with me. Everyone is waiting for you... At the line."

Well. I have no idea what she is talking about, but I'll go along with it for now.

...

The trip is very smooth. The passenger pod had a leather upholstered chair which automatically shaped to my body. With the straps accross me, we lifted off. For some reason the vibrations of lift-off were very, very comfortable and very localized. I am so not complaining about this ride.

I got a mental image of my Siberian doll pouting for some reason and pulled it out of my robe. Huh. Didn't think I brought it with me.

Lacking anywhere to put it, I stuffed it between my chest and one of the straps. It started... Ah... Massaging with its patented tinker-tech 'Grope and Squeeze' technology.

Best. Ride. Ever!

...

All too soon we stopped moving. The passenger pod door popped open and I left it, but not before hearing something about the robotic Dragon's "first time." O k a y...

I was greeted by the Solar... Simurgh? Yes. She was hiccuping and waving around a bottle the size of toxic waste barrel. Nearly fifteen feet of of platinum-white winged angelic inhuman beauty.

"Hey Taay!" She grabbed me with a bunch of her wings and pulled me close. "How... You doin? You ready to lead the line?" She was already nodding at me, the scent of booze on her breath somewhat sweet.

I have no idea what is going on so I just nod back at her.

"That's GREAT!" She hiccups. "Lemme get everybody all lined up for ya!" She starts waving around like a madwoman. A feathered, platinum white, beautiful madwoman.

The tarrasque... Rasq... Behemoth arrives. "Yeah?" He looks first at... Ziz... Then snorts at me. I feel an impulse to hug him and suppress it. Don't know why I did either.

"Get everybody all together! We're going to start THE LINE!" The Angel exclaims to Behemoth while petting him with her wings.

He moves his jaws around a few times then speaks. "Right." Then he turns around and leaves.

"This will be AWESOME Taay!"

I certainly hope so...

...

As far back as I can see is a line. I don't know the guy behind me. Might be a case 53? He has purple skin. Introduced himself as Vane in the few moments we had before Ziz shushed him.

A ripple goes up the line towards me, accompanied by one word: "READY!"

I clear my throat. "Alright everybody! Just follow my lead! We are going to start with an adaption of an old favourite..."

Spoiler: The Chicken Dance

Active works: A Gamer Can't Go Insane (Alt-Gamer!SI, CthulhuTech, Multi) [Started Nov. 27, 2019]

Spoiler: Past Works

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#119

I'm putting this story on an indefinate hiatus.

There are still a few archived semi-complete snips, so if anyone really wants to read them, please let me know. :)

This is also a bump to bring attention to my other, just started work: I Will Be Home (Worm, SI/OC).

Cheers!

~AB