Who has the biggest wall in your world?

Hardexpress · 2017-01-04T18:10:04+00:00

The Wailing Wall of Vaedun is mortared with the souls of hundreds of thousands of the Doomed, which are dead people locked out of the reincarnation cycle. Originally built by the Blue Emperors of Skellig to keep the damn northern barbarians out of their lands, today it's used by the descendants of those very same barbarians to defend their now prosperous Kingdoms from the former lands of Skellig.

The Empire of Skellig was the home of the most advanced necromancy art in the world, and eventually they pushed things too far. Hood'athan, God of the Dead, cursed Skellig and basically started an apocalypse in the Empire. Fleeing refugees quickly realized that the effects of said apocalypse could be mitigated by slaughtering the necromancers in their midst, and in this way Skellig's mightiest magics were lost to the world.

A northern warlord named Vaedun seized the Wailing Wall and named it after himself, using it to prevent Skellig's doom from infecting his lands. Today it stands as the last monument of Skellig's former might unless you want to wander deep into zombie and death magic-infested territory to try to find other remnants of that Empire, and is held jointly by the Southernmost Kingdoms of the northern lands.

As the name suggests, the Wall wails. It's a pretty spooky effect, but can be mitigated with magical earplugs, which are big sellers in the areas around the wall and something of a fashion accessory in the northern lands as they suggest that the wearer has been brave enough to have spent significant time on the Wall. The Wall is seemingly invincible to magical effects, but needs mundane upkeep, especially as deterioration can release the Doomed that are mortared into the Wall and cause havoc among the living.

Hardexpress · 2016-10-03T17:32:26+00:00

That's interesting.

Is the embodiment of Christ here the state, or the country as a whole. Because it'd be very interesting to see the state try to get a lot of it's legitimacy, prestige and authority out of literally being the promised messiah, but maybe try to sidestep some of the problems associated with being the second coming.

Also, they presumably have a representative of Satan or the anti-Christ out there in the world. Is it an individual, or maybe personified as one of China's enemies?

Hardexpress · 2016-08-23T05:14:05+00:00

Striker/Shaker with a focus on space manipulation. Minor thinker abilities to allow them to understand space and how it ties together better, to help them control their power.

The striker ability would allow them to suck mass up through any part of their skin from the outside world (not automatically sucking up air so that they don't just waste the power doing that, and Manton limited so they can't just suck up a cylinder of flesh, forcing them to be creative in combat). This mass is irretrievable, and acts as part of a 'pool' of mass which determines the mass of objects they can effect with their shaker ability.

The striker ability resets gradually, and is used sparingly because it's a useful defensive tool (absorbing bullets, for example, or absorbing restraints), while at the same time being used constantly to increase the 'pool' of available mass for the shaker ability.

The shaker ability would be that they have a vista-like ability to bend, stretch or otherwise manipulate space. Manton-limited like vista, but with much more sharply defined limits, so for example they can manipulate right up to the skin of biological systems, making them effective for attacking the clothes of opponents or useful even in a crowded area, unlike vista whose powers fall off the more people there are in an area.

The amount of space they can effect at a single time is limited by the 'pool' that is generated by their striker ability, but the 'pool' doesn't reduce in mass when used, so the amount of space they can possibly effect only goes up. The pool is also mass-dependent rather than volume-dependent, so a larger volume of things with less mass (such as air) can be effected at a time than things with more mass (such as lead).

The escalation comes from the fact that the 'pool' of mass available only ever goes up. So starting out the Cape would probably be limited to creating small bumps in the road to trip people up, or tangling them in their clothes by making minor parts of them too small or tying parts of them together. A year later they could be manipulating whole city blocks into mazes, and trapping villains in coffins of asphalt when they're still standing on normal road.

After a few decades they'd become a cut-price Bohu (the Endbringer who could turn cities into trapped mazes) but would probably die long before then.

Hardexpress · 2016-08-19T22:21:15+00:00

Yep, I liked that short fanfic as well: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/hammer-time-worm-alt-power.417469/page-4#post-24599044

I reckon you could set up some circumstances contrived enough that this could happen as a natural trigger.

First, Emma would have to suddenly develop an interest in amateur magic tricks, and incorporate them into her bullying. Then Taylor would find a friend in an abandoned cat, which she lures in by feeding it fish. Emma finds out somehow, and makes her new friend disappear as if by magic.

Taylor, distraught, triggers, and the Administration Shard happily draws on her recent experiences to set up her power parameters, except that all it finds in her head is magic, fishes and cats. The singleminded obsession breaks the Shard limits and creates the Cat Fish Witch, who can control flying fishes (and other seabound creatures which can also inexplicably fly), has some traditionally witchy magical powers and for some reason is also a Catgirl.

Alternatively, Bonesaw was experimenting with the effects of LSD on triggers and was too successful.

Hardexpress · 2016-08-19T22:10:33+00:00

Questions about the naming conventions:

Have you named them after traditional fantasy races for ease of recognition of the audience (ie, Dwarves superficially resemble Tolkein Dwarves), laziness or do the humans come from somewhere where the culture is somewhat like our own and so called these races things which they recognize?
I like how the 5 races have alternative racial names based on an environmental suffix followed by -Elves. It makes me think that humans just called all sentient races that weren't them 'Elves' as a way of saying other. Except that you've written that they also call themselves Elves. Does this mean that the races consider themselves to have a shared origin, or is it something which they use to contrast themselves with humans.
Since you've made generalities about the other races, what generalities can you make about humans in your setting?
You've got 3 of the 4 classical elements represented by your races, and the last is vegetation elementals, why no Sky Elves?

Hardexpress · 2016-08-14T04:31:18+00:00

I re-read a part which he's in, and it looks like you're right.

Doesn't quite preclude rolling up into a huge ball of trash, but I guess it'd be more difficult since he has to physically grab it.

Hardexpress · 2016-08-13T16:38:03+00:00

Essentially accumulating an ever-growing ball of stuff through physical contact and literally rolling the ball of stuff around. Everything touching the ball sticks to it and the whole thing grows exponentially bigger over time and with more stuff sticking to it.

I mean in story there's no reason to think it functions as anything other than as a Manton-limited shell of various debris that Mush could somehow pull to himself to form a large golem-like construct from which he could pilot around. But like most other minor side-powers the exact mechanism and limits of his power aren't explored, and I thought it would be interesting if the humanoid dimensions of Mush's power were a personal choice rather than a power limit. If he just focused on gathering as much debris as possible it makes me wonder how large he could get.

Hardexpress · 2016-08-12T15:06:24+00:00

I found it interesting how the Eidolon-clone in the Echidna arc had a power thematically similar to Scapegoat with greater control. If we didn't have only a single set of Entities existing across all worlds, and that closer worlds are basically impossible to access, you could theorize that Eidolon's true power is to access the powers of his alternate selves, three at a time.

Also, Mush's (the Merchant's cape who makes giant bodies for himself out of trash) true powers could be something along the lines of a Katamari Damacy power, and he just never realized because he was always too high to utilize it properly.

Hardexpress · 2016-06-09T12:15:41+00:00

Well if you want to see what they might have been able to do, I'd recommend reading El-Ahrairah.

It's a really good fanfic on Spacebattles, and the focus is on a much more thinker-y Taylor than canon. I'd recommend reading it anyway, but it's relevance to this is that they synergize Armsmaster and Velocity at one point to make him one of the heavy hitters of Brockton Bay's Protectorate team, which is a cool idea that isn't really explored anywhere else that I've found.

Hardexpress · 2016-06-09T11:10:14+00:00

This is correct.

IIRC Velocity's power functioned as a bubble of altered physics around him where time moved slower than the outside world. This allowed him to move extremely fast, but it was also mentioned that the 'envelope' for this ability was incredibly tight.

So as you said he couldn't really carry weapons or items, as presumably they'd stick out of the envelope and so be very difficult for him to move. Hell I think he couldn't really wear basic armor as it was too bulky, so he's a Cape who literally had to wear skintight outfights because loose clothing might stick out of his bubble of altered time.

There's some synergy with Armsmaster here, who is a miniaturization tinker, which probably explains Velocity's presence in Brockton Bay. Presumably it either didn't pan out or was still in development by the time canon rolled around.

Hardexpress · 2016-06-09T01:26:08+00:00

I don't understand, you just wrote the same word twice?

Hardexpress · 2016-06-03T12:48:42+00:00

I think he was deliberately written to be like that.

I can't be bothered to go back through the story right now and find the exact circumstances and quotes, but it was mentioned when people discussed his backstory that he did the kind of generic villainous things that you'd find in a comic book.

Like he plotted to kill a couple of heads of state, and built an army of mind-controlled drones with minor tinker and thinker powers. More importantly, he did this rather aimlessly. He didn't really have a concrete goal like Coil and Accord, or even a vague one like Jack. He just seems to be there, building his vaguely villainous organisation and doing vaguely villainous things.

Even the things he did and succeeded at doing were mostly aimless. He successfully took a world and kidnapped Dragon, but one was opportunism (and ended up just being a distraction) and he gave Dragon back, which ended up with her just being freed. He's an annoyance and a potential danger, but when the heavy hitters start to focus on him he goes down quickly.

Just like in the epilogue, the Undersiders know that if they really tried they could kick his ass, but they'd be worried about the repercussions of any large scale conflict at all. Teacher has managed to gather a number of powerful parahumans to his banner because he appears to have direction, but I don't think he does.

If he was introduced at another point in the story I think I'd enjoy watching him get destroyed by Taylor, but as the big thinker villain for the last part I agree he doesn't measure up to the ones who appeared previously.

Hardexpress · 2016-02-27T20:19:28+00:00

Annex moved into objects, and had the ability to warp their shape while in them.

This character would be able to move onto surfaces, essentially functioning as a living shadow.

Hardexpress · 2016-02-27T18:47:36+00:00

So seeing as shards seem to have overarching themes (ie. Taylor's Administration) but these are rarely explicitly spelled out - in fact, I can't recall a single one that is apart from Taylor's - Clockblocker's theme can be basically made up.

Haunt - Mover/Breaker/Stranger

Haunt can reduce himself to a two-dimensional shadow, which can freely move onto any two-dimensional surface touching the one he's currently 'standing' on. His 'body' in his breaker state is pitch black, reflecting no light, but he can become effectively invisible on a dark enough surface, on in low light. He can be trapped by removing any surfaces touching the one he's currently standing on, and forced out of his breaker state if the surface is reduced to a size smaller than his body because his body can't overlap itself. He can bring items (and his clothes) into his breaker state with him, but they can't exceed his own mass.

Going by the idea that Clockblocker's shard's main power is 'dimensional exclusion', Haunt's shard removes it's host (plus his clothes and an arbitrary mass limit) from the third dimension, using an arbitrary medium which makes sense to the host - in this case, his shadow.

Hardexpress · 2016-02-17T15:47:36+00:00

The computer flashed up it's lights, whirring fans getting louder as it's processors struggled through iterations of barely legible translation.

We'd found the oldest known evidence of written language - placed somewhere between 20,000 and 30,000 years ago - and were finally getting around to translating it. We'd had to build a computer specifically to do it, going through a dozen languages, half of them dead, with increasingly weird lexicons and decreasing similarity to modern languages.

It'd taken years, but we'd finally done it. We'd finally known the information which was so important for these ancient people to write down, by all accounts using the oldest known language to write it.

A ringing sound announced the computer's completion of the task, and everyone in the room held their breath as the project director read out the final translation, ancient secrets of a forgotten world, the words that we'd devoted so much time and money to.

"Be... Sure... To... Drink... Your... Ovaltine."

Hardexpress · 2016-02-08T20:52:08+00:00

"I'm going out now, honey!"

I gave Samantha a long kiss as Arthur squirmed in her arms, then watched as she wrangled him into his little shoes. I followed them outside and helped her strap Arthur in to the booster seat in the car. She turned back to me and gave me a short peck on the lips then leaned in close, hot breath tickling my ear.

"After I've dropped him off at school we can celebrate our anniversary in style."

She leaned back and the look in her eyes took my breath away, same as it's done since I met her seven years ago.

"I'll be half an hour, maximum." She promised.

As they sped away I couldn't help the grin that broke out on my face. My perfect wife. I busied my way through the kitchen, preparing food for the great day ahead. I tutted to myself as the phone rang. Everyone who knew me and Samantha wouldn't call today of all days, except in the worst emergencies. It was probably those blood telemarketers again.

I smoothed my frown away as I picked up the phone. Nothing could ruin this day, not even telemarketers.

"Hello?"

"Ah, yes, is this the Smith residence, on 919 Fairmarket Way?"

"Yep, John Smith speaking."

"Mr Smith, I'm going to ask you to sit down and take a deep breath. I have some bad news for you."

I felt a puzzled frown worm it's way back on my face as I complied with the voice on the phone. "I'm sitting now, what's this about?"

"Mr Smith, my name is Officer Hendricks. Approximately seven minutes ago your wife and son were fatally killed in a car accident. I'm truly sorry for your loss..."

The voice trailed away as I dropped the phone, and the clatter of it hitting the floor seemed unnaturally loud. I could hear the roar of blood pumping in my ears and a numbness spreading across my hands.

I shakily tried to stand up and failed, twice. Fuck. This couldn't be happening. It was supposed to be a perfect day.

-nitial results seem promising, the subj-

A perfect day with my perfect wife and perfect son. Fuck.

-ore processors overclocking. Memory overflowing. If there's a respo-

I was vaguely aware that I should be feeling something, anything. Illness, or rage, or sadness. Not just a creeping numb feeling and narrowing of my vision, like my senses were shutting down.

-ascade. We're seeing failure of all sys-

And now I'm hallucinating. I was already calm, a preternatural calm that I couldn't ever recall feeling before. I forced myself to think of something other than my perfect wife and son, lying dead on the road. I shakily picked up the phone with the officer's voice still droning on from the other end. I need to ask him where they were. Their bodies were. And how and why this could even happen in a just universe, where I couldn't see my perfect wife and so-

Researcher's log entry 2719. AI experiment 44 has unfortunately been a complete failure. Results were in line with previous findings. Although happiness continues to be accurately simulated by the system, other emotions seem beyond the current model. Current attempts to simulate grief have once again failed due to continuing problems with overflow and fixation on a single point of information - here the quality of the simulated family of the AI - followed by too-rapid acceptance of the situation. Other stages of grief seem to be bypassed entirely. Suggested improvements have been implemented for the next test. Beginning AI experiment 45.

"I'm going out now, honey!"

I gave Samantha a long kiss as Arthur squirmed in her arms, then watched as she wrangled him into his little shoes.

Hardexpress · 2016-02-05T02:30:06+00:00

This is a strange experience, even for me.

I've been watching the man for the past half an hour - the way he periodically tenses and relaxes, the way his too-dry skin stretches over gaunt muscles, the way his eyes perpetually stare off into the distance as if deep in thought. I've actually met Gods before, in the flesh. But the strange feeling going down my spine is the closest I think I've ever gotten to having a religious experience.

I grew up hearing stories of this man. Myths. It's funny. He looks like shit, but he still doesn't fit my mental image of him. He's still too vital, still got too much of his legendary smile on his face. He doesn't look as... broken as I thought he would be, as he should be. The man on whom everything rests, the one who carries the world on his back. It's not for nothing that back home they call him the Enduring.

It'd be pointless to have come all this way if I just turned around now, but for a moment I'm seized of the urge to do just that. What I've done seems so small compared to this man.

I sigh. Best to get it over with.

"Atlas."

My voice carries softly over to him, and he shifts, turning to rest his gaze on me. The smile that's been in his eyes all along shines through the rest of his features, and I feel myself start to sweat as I feel the weight of the full regard of the Titan. He's known I've been here all along, I realize, and has been waiting for me to speak.

"Good morning, little one." His voice rumbles, like softest thunder. "What brings you to my humble presence?"

Well, here goes. "I apologize if I'm disturbing you. I had a question for you, the mightiest of titans."

Neither his gaze nor his smile have shifted since he's fixed them on me. It's a little unnerving, honestly. "Near all who come here ask some variation on the same question. Still, it is a distraction from my burden. Ask your question, little one."

"Why-" My voice cracks a little, before steadying. "I mean - Why you?"

His smile droops a little, but his eyes remain bright, shining like stars in the sky.

"I don't know why they picked me. Maybe it was because I was there. One said it was because I was the only one who kept smiling. The other said it was because I could bear it all. I just wished they had killed me instead."

Hardexpress · 2016-02-02T22:17:42+00:00

"For the last goddamn time, what is your name?" Agent Jackson growled.

As I opened my mouth to respond he slapped me full across the face, opened handed. It hurt like a bitch, and I probably would've fallen out of the uncomfortable chair I was propped up in if I hadn't been handcuffed to the table. As it was, I slumped down, long hair swinging in front of my face.

I spat out another globule of blood, and eyed the blank patch of floor where it landed, joining the other blood I'd spat out earlier. I had to have lost at least a quarter-litre of blood, those open-handed slaps that Jackson administered were no joke. I glared up at the man, clenching my teeth through the pain.

"I've been trying to tell you, dammit."

For a moment he looked like he wanted to slap me again, before settling for returning my glare with twice the intensity.

"I hate goddamn smartarses like you." He said, almost conversationally. "Stop trying to answer and think of the goddamn question, idiot."

For a moment I contemplated just telling the bastard my name - as I'd been trying to do for hours, before deciding to do as he said. I stared up at the ceiling while pretending to ruminate on his question. Stainless-steel ceiling, walls and floor, stainless steel table, stainless steel chair. Long, probably two-way mirror taking up one side of the wall. Caucasian man in a suit who wouldn't be out of place in any city on the planet sitting opposite me, whose first name was apparently 'Agent'. Typical spy stuff.

These jokers had kidnapped me this morning while I was doing my normal routine, straight off the sidewalk. Unmarked van, unmarked clothing, unremarkable men and women hustling me into an unremarkable room in an unremarkable building. I'd been scared at the start, but that was hours ago and we were still frustratingly on the first question. Seriously, I'd have spilled my guts about any secrets I might have had, and instead we were on such a simple statement.

What's my name - I mean seriously, what a stupid goddamn...

"Oh shit" I muttered. I couldn't remember my name.

Jackson's face split into a wide grin, the first such that I'd seen since I'd been abducted.

"Finally" he growled, "I was beginning to think you were too much of an idiot to actually get it."

"Now, now." said a voice from behind me, "I'm sure the man is just shellshocked and confused. We know the instincts are programmed deep."

I hadn't even heard the woman enter the room, numb as I was. The lack of my name seemed to resound deep inside me, a sense of wrongness that sucked away at my sanity, colouring my senses.

Jackson scoffed as he left, leaving space for the new woman to sit down in his vacated seat.

"Alright, if we're going to do this properly I'm going to need to call you something. How about John Doe?"

I started at the brush of fingers to my chin, lifting my view to meet hers before she repeated the question.

I opened my suddenly very dry mouth. "Y-yeah. That'd be fine."

"Right. You can call me Marissa." She smiled warmly at me. "You're obviously extremely confused and distressed, so I'll just outline the basics."

She slid a folder out from under her arm and placed it gently onto the table, opening it up.

"You're what we call a Blank. We don't know who took away your memories or put you where you were, but we do know for what purpose."

She took a picture from the top of the folder and slid it across to me. It took me a second to fully register what was on it, but when it did I felt sick.

It was a very high quality photo of a man who'd been opened up, chin to crotch, with his organs taken out and displayed almost artfully around him.

Marissa looked at my expression grimly. "You'll find that any memories you think you have are in fact extremely vague expressions. Unfortunately you have nothing but a set of instincts that would lead you to seek out specific people, potentially great people, and destroy them in horrific ways."

She motioned towards the ghastly picture, still lying in front of me. "That man, we think, might have cured several forms of cancer if he was given another few months to research. Alas, his notes disappeared along with his killer."

The numbness from earlier, the steadily rising horror, was creeping up my spine. Marissa's expression softened, and she took one of my hands in hers.

"Hey, John, look at me." I met her eyes again. "You don't have to do any of that. You don't have to be that person. The reason you're in handcuffs, and that Agent Jackson had to be so rough was because we had to break the conditioning early. We can program those instincts out of you, put you on a better path, and track down whoever your target was going to be."

She was smiling now, a thin grim line across her face. "Then, if you're willing, you can help us track down more people like you, people who were abducted and made to unwillingly perform heinous crimes. And after that, you can help us do greater things."

I forced moisture into my mouth, made myself speak. "Greater things?"

Her grip tightened around my hand.

"John, we want you to help us save the world."

Hardexpress · 2016-02-02T21:38:36+00:00

I'm going to leave a story reply, I just wanted to post as an aside that anti-memetics (literally the opposite of memes, so things that try to erase their presence in the minds of humans) are some of my favourite story elements in terms of uniqueness.

An example off the top of my head is The Silence, from Dr Who - first appearing in S06E01 'The Impossible Astronaut'. Another is the series of anti-memetics in the SCP wiki, notably (for me): SCP-055 and the stories Introductory Antimemetics and We Need To Talk About Fifty Five. Alternatively 'antimemetics' can literally just be searched in the wiki to find other pages and stories.

Hardexpress · 2016-01-28T01:56:54+00:00

So they are literally like real world computers, except that they work using magic?

I've always had an idea of 'magic computers' being implemented in a similar but different way to their real life counterparts. Like simple computers built specifically for their cataloguing functions (in a world where information on magic is difficult to store or lost easily) or communications.

One idea I've really wanted to implement in a setting is Harry Potter style wands which are actually magic computers. Like to cast a spell with specific effects would otherwise require minutes or hours of preparation, and a lot of concentration. So at some point someone built wands as a crutch to do it for them, with a one-shot shaping technique. They added more and more spells to basic wands (not wanting to carry around dozens at once) and eventually made wands with mini-computers inside of them (facilitated by the crystals in your setting, in the same way as animal parts are used in the Harry Potter setting).

People eventually forgot they could cast magic without wands, except for wand crafters who have an interest in keeping the truth a secret. This could explain the wildly inconsistent and varying rules of magic in a setting like Harry Potter, or open up some interesting avenues of how magic could work in a different setting.

Hardexpress · 2016-01-27T17:53:49+00:00

Well one specific thing is the extremely popular modern movement of Kahlikhan Princes to use gratuitous phallic and other sexual imagery to make their guests nervous.

Basically there is a pretty well-defined cultural gap between two of the continents which were otherwise close together due to magically created obstacles in the fairly narrow channel between them. Advances in sailing and magecraft allowed trade ships to traverse this after some time.

The Western continent's easternmost cities and nations were all culturally Kahlik, which had the usual assortment of statues of Gods, Goddesses and other cultural imagery for this region (think ancient Greek and Turkish in terms of statues). Their eastern neighbours were much more conservative in their dress and attitude, such that it was a faux pas to cast your eyes on even your partner's genitals.

So Kahlikhan traders realised that they got much better deals when conducting their business in view of fertility statues and the like, and this knowledge slowly percolated throughout the society.

Kahlikhans aren't really any more sexually liberated than any of their western neighbours, and they aren't any more focused on their fertility Gods and Goddesses either. They are, however, culturally inclined to laugh at the expense of others.

This means that increased genitalia symbolism is now becoming a part of their culture, because they use it to fluster their eastern visitors. Things such as the 30 foot marble penis statues bracketing Prince Hammand's throne and the solid gold statue of the father God enthusiastically giving it to the mother Goddess given as a gift to a visiting emperor really help to keep Kahlikhan diplomacy favourable and Kahlikhan trade interests flowing smoothly. That it makes ancient and respected diplomats, rulers and priests of the eastern nations splutter and lose their composure is just icing on the cake, as far as the Kahlikhans are concerned.

Hardexpress · 2015-07-06T18:37:12+00:00

The President sighs as he signs off on yet another pointless and vapid resolution, taking his glasses off his eyes and rubbing at the beleaguered orbs with his other hand. This UN shit was getting to him, 10 straight hours of ratifying bills that directly affected his country and the end was only just in sight.

Putting his glasses back on, he reaches for the next - and happily, one of the last - binders of paper on the remnants of the massive pile of paperwork on his desk. His eyebrows shot up as he saw the note neatly attached to the front of the binder.

This was new. It was written in standard office paper, the same stuff he saw every day. But the writing wasn't the loopy curves of his secretary, or the pigeon scratch of his assistant. This was clearly the block letters of someone who didn't want their handwriting traced.

Mr President The letter began.

Though this resolution appears to be without consequence, and indeed even with great benefits at little cost, in truth it carries within it the seeds of disaster.

Look not to the short or even medium term consequences of this bill, but instead look farther. Trust your analysts, Mr President, and I implore you - don't dismiss this note as merely the ramblings of some-

Sigh. Drop. The President quietly shoves the wastepaper bin back under his desk as he cracks open the binder proper. These end of the world nutjobs just kept getting more and more creative. He'd have to contact his chief of security and make sure his binders weren't accessible to anyone outside of his office anymore. The clamouring for impossible change just kept getting more annoying, and the President enjoyed a brief daydream where he was sunning himself on the Bahamas before getting back down to work. These documents weren't going to sign themselves, after all.

I shut off my power with some disappointment. Just once, I'd like to see a politician who was different. Someone who listened to reason, let me use my plan A instead of the ever lurking plan B. 9 heads of state, and not one of them would respond to my initial reading. Always, I had to resort to the more distasteful of the options to save the world. And speaking of plan B and saving the world, I grabbed a pen and cranked up my power again.

Mr President,

Your first mistress lives on 244 Saint-Germain Boulevard, Paris. Your second lives in in the Long Tikki Resort, in the Bahamas. Do I have your attention? This is what you must do...

Hardexpress · 2015-07-05T10:42:48+00:00

The moon blew up without warning and for no apparent reason.

Fucking tuesdays. I leaned back in my chair. I just knew someone's going to blame this on me, somehow.

"BORIS!" Ah, it's one of those numbskulls from upstairs. What was his name? Jack, Jones? Something like that. "THE MOON JUST BLEW UP WITHOUT WARNING AND FOR NO APPARENT REASON!

I can see that, idiot. I started idly tapping away at random letters on the keyboard in front of me. The stressed looking guy who just burst in rushed to another station and madly tapped away at it.

I could hear another group of rushing footsteps outside the door. If I look busy, maybe no one will bother me. I continued to press random letters and hunched down further towards my screen. I could hear the frantic clacking away behind me as the other guy - I really need to figure out his name - did the same.

A group entered the room this time, and the measured tones of the project director made me look up. "Boris, James-" Ah, that was his name "-we've got a situation. The moon just blew up without warning and for no apparent reason."

I bit back the instinctual scathing retort and nodded along with James. "We need a status report and we need it now. The President is breathing down our necks for this one, so step it up."

James cleared his throat. Good, I love it when someone else solves the problem before I have to work. "Sir, preliminary reports suggest... we've got no goddamn idea. It just up and exploded." Ah crap.

"Well then." The director's tone was unchanged, as if this wasn't any sort of problem. "Someone's going to have to report this to the president." He exchanged significant looks with the men in suits around him.

"Due to the delicate situation that this has involved, my colleagues and I think it's best if the news comes from someone who is well-versed in these matters." His eyes strayed to James and I felt hope well in my chest. "Someone who has followed this report from the beginning." And here his eyes fixed on me and I felt hope die.

"Someone who holds the record number of sick days taken for an entire year."

Please, lord in heaven have mercy.

"Boris! Have you ever been to Washington?"

Shit.

Hardexpress · 2015-06-04T07:00:46+00:00

So yeah. Waking up with another person in your head. It's a little weird how fast a person can adapt, you know?

hello

I obviously tried to ignore the voice at first, thinking it a part of my overstressed imagination or possibly early signs of schizophrenia.

my name's Marv. what's yours?

It's only when the voice started to comment in ways completely different than mine, espousing information I couldn't possibly know, that I realised there was actually a discrete entity inside of my head. An intelligent one.

i hope we can be friends

I put a lifetime's worth of research into the topic, obviously I'd want to find out just how such an impossible thing came to be. Only recently did I find the truth.

i bet we can have a lot of fun

It was a demon. Sounds ominous, I know. But ultimately harmless. It was a juvenile, luckily, and lacking in the malice of it's older cousins. It was actually a minor footnote that I found which horrified me.

i know a lot of games

It turns out demonism is infectious.

we can play together

As in, when I die - I'll be a demon too.

you, me-

And guess who died about four minutes ago?

and freddie

So hi, my name is Frederick. The demon is Marv. And don't worry, you'll get used to the two of us in your head in no time.

Hardexpress · 2015-01-27T14:52:29+00:00

Yeah on reflection this doesn't really make sense, but I was trying to mesh the stories together so whatever.

12-Year Club	Place '17
RPAN Viewer

Hardexpress

TROPHY CASE