“Human Resources” Shouldn’t Be This Literal: A PMMM/ProjectMoon Quest
- Thread starter Lepidoptera
- Start date
-
- Tags
- library of ruina lobotomy corporation project moon puella magi madoka magica eldritch horror magical girl crossover eldritch protagonist female protagonist fluffy gore non-human protagonist suffering violence discussion is always good civ good decisions identity crises nuclear moth detected parenting powers activate
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
I mean...does Ayin technically count?
The man by the end of Lobotomy Corporation was essentially a multi-headed Serpent who can essentially do whatever he wanted in the Facility.
Given what he does, maybe The Moon is the white pinnacle?
The man by the end of Lobotomy Corporation was essentially a multi-headed Serpent who can essentially do whatever he wanted in the Facility.
Given what he does, maybe The Moon is the white pinnacle?
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
...Don't question mom and dad's fetishes okay? 
kaillll
Judgment Upon You
Anyway, that's my last guess, I have officially run out of stuff I can pull out of my ass so good luck on your all.
edit:
I just thought of some arguments on why one sin and hundreds of good deed is the pinnacle of white damage.
because he can literally just open your mind and edit it.
He have our lobotomy on steroids. he can just fucking open your mind, edit the memory, close it up.
And he can turn any evil doing person into a good person because he eats sin, he doesn't break your mind.
he just opens it up and edit it.
He can remove sections without breaking it entirely, His white damage is so fucking precise that you don't even feel your mind has been wiped.
edit:
I just thought of some arguments on why one sin and hundreds of good deed is the pinnacle of white damage.
because he can literally just open your mind and edit it.
He have our lobotomy on steroids. he can just fucking open your mind, edit the memory, close it up.
And he can turn any evil doing person into a good person because he eats sin, he doesn't break your mind.
he just opens it up and edit it.
He can remove sections without breaking it entirely, His white damage is so fucking precise that you don't even feel your mind has been wiped.
Last edited:
Kalibrius
God of reflection
- Location
- The other side of the mirror
Well the thing to note is that aleph+s though unsurpassed...... it wasn't stated they had absolute control of their power
Could means there's alephs who are Masters of their damage type rather than unsurpassed
Like comparing a Brute with super strength to a martial arts master
Pinnacles of differing nature
Mayhaps Nothing there is the master of red in this scenario?
Could means there's alephs who are Masters of their damage type rather than unsurpassed
Like comparing a Brute with super strength to a martial arts master
Pinnacles of differing nature
Mayhaps Nothing there is the master of red in this scenario?
questioningmeme
Just be yourself
- Location
- River of Light
Apocalypse Bird is already confirmed by lepid as the Red Pinnacle.
1.6.9 - The Qliphoth
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Chapter 72 - The Qliphoth
Long ago, buried beneath centuries of duty, you remember how you would weep at the deaths of those who served under you. Each failure, each loss, left you begging and pleading for somebody to make it stop. Each time you too fell, you would cry out. You would weep and scream for somebody, anybody to help you. To save you. To save anyone. Until one day, you learned that it made no difference. No matter how you asked, how you cried, how you prayed, there was nobody who could help you. And so you stopped crying.
In a cold and indifferent world, there was no god to give you salvation. Only one person could put an end to the suffering that surrounded you. So there was no miracle that would rescue you from this pit? You would craft your own miracles. There were no commandments to guide you to freedom? You would give your own commandments. By your hand, you lifted those beneath you up from the depths and into the future with you. The future that you made, with your own will. And you loved it. For all the suffering, the death and pain, you cherished every small victory and step forwards. It was a purpose handed to you since you were made, but you would never dream of anything else. What greater cause could there be than helping others? That facility may have been your hell, but it was yours to rule.
You were foolish to think this world was any different. Kinder though it may be, it is still hell all the same. A part of your kingdom.
The first sensation you register is the cracking of your skin. Agony rips through you as flesh breaks off in stony chunks, the cracks spreading up your arms and running across the rest of your body. You do not scream as you fall apart, like a cocoon being torn open by an emerging butterfly. Beneath the fragments is a primordial lifeblood; the essence of divinity spilling onto the earth. Freed from structure, the pain fades into a dull emptiness. You collapse into an amorphous puddle, a hole in the world that twists and reaches outwards. You cannot see, cannot hear, cannot feel. Everything is but an empty void.
How inadequate.
A single clawed hand bursts from the mire, its warped metallic skin reflecting constellations that never were. The other soon follows, and your grip pierces the earth as you drag yourself up from the nothingness into being. Your body is twisted and monstrous, a towering mess of dull grey steel that branches and churns as if it had a life of its own, tracing infinitely complex patterns into your new flesh. Your upper half is still vaguely humanoid, featureless and twisted as it is. Metallic branches sprout from your skin, forming impressions of spines and horns. Your face is in contrast a smooth featureless plate, so pitch black it seems like a hole in space. Two moth-like antenna sprout from where your eyes would be. Your hair billows out behind you from between the boughs emerging from your skull in an immense cloud. In place of your coat ten stark white insectoid wings rest across your back, each one decorated with colorful patterns. Monstrous, yes, but still recognizably human.
Below your waist is a different story. Six enormous insectoid legs each end in something between a digitigrade claw and a hoof. The false wings line all along your back even as your body loses human shape and is twisted into something truly monstrous. A gnarled metal carapace encloses your abdomen, which ends in five whiplike tails that each terminate in a vicious spike dripping with iridescent fluid.
You take your first step forward. Your metal skin splits open all across your body, many-colored mechanical eyes staring out from the gaps. As your heel touches the concrete, it writhes and roils. The stone melts into sludge, which rises into the shape of flowers, which burn in impossible colors before collapsing back into formlessness. Another step, a new spring of creation bursts forth from the floor of the empty subway. The rain shimmers unnaturally, as if a million liquid prisms were falling from the sky. You exhale with lungs that you do not have, and a gentle breeze fills the stagnant tunnels. This world, kinder though it may be, is merely an extension of your old hell. And like the Facility before, it will obey your commands. Your very touch calls life from the nothingness. A thought could destroy it just as easily.
And yet, something is still missing. Could it be…
You spread your wings, and for a moment all is as it should be.
Not the false, useless things that drape across your back. They are beautiful, reminiscent of the nerve-like branches of glittering light revealed by Lobotomy. As you stretch, exploring the sensations that come with your true form's unveiling, they grow larger and longer until your radiance encompasses the sky. Each brilliant bough, each splayed nerve, grants more sublime clarity with which to see the world than you could ever imagined.
Your vision expands through Mitakihara, each street and building and person carefully witnessed and accounted for. You can feel your sight stretch further, clawing at the sky, but you reign it in. For now, all that you need concern yourself with is here. Instead, you focus your gaze and look deeper, peering into the world in a way you never could before. Your pinions claw at thousands of people all at once, carefully cataloguing the city's population. You are once again all-seeing, all-knowing. All secrets laid bare before a being who can comprehend anything.
With the exceptional clarity granted, the ecstasy of freedom drains away. There is no time to bask in your ascension. More urgent matters are before you, in need of resolution. Nothing There tears free of their cocoon, a towering figure of formless flesh dotted with misplaced features that could perhaps be contrived as human. Twenty-three of the thirty-seven Magical Girls, Kyoko among them, scream within the depths of the Abnormality's flesh. You ward away the chorus of chatter that inexplicably pours from the creature's body. Your work is not yet done. First you need to dispatch the Abnormality before you and retrieve their victims. Then, you'll need to begin working on repairing your seal. It wouldn't do to actually follow through on your threat to Kyubey.
Suddenly, reality shifts and ripples. The quarantine field closes in around you, cutting off the rest of the world. The crystalline structure folds in from nowhere, leaving only a small enclosure where you and Nothing There stand opposite one another on the ruined subway. You would gasp at the sudden loss of sensation if you still had lungs with which to breathe. Instead, you can feel only a wave of relief. It's too soon, too dangerous for you to exist freely. You're not stable yet. Within the containment, you aren't at risk of hurting anyone.
A single branch of your wings pokes at the field confining you. It's well-made, fully capable of restricting your reality-overriding effects to within its limits. Either Kyubey had been planning to use this against you ever since you were observed, the Incubators created it only in the time since your apotheosis, or they simply are used to confronting similar threats and already have countermeasures developed. None of the possibilities bode well. However, it has one critical flaw.
Your wing pushes through the barrier, as if it were not there. While you can't leave the field, Lobotomy can still reach through it. Nevertheless, it would do little good for you to circumvent the field now, while it serves your purposes. You will withdraw yourself, after you take care of one last issue.
You turn your attention to your children, gathered outside the crystalline void in space that is the outside of the containment field. Mami is on her kneees, weeping at the emptiness, Yuma pressing into her side. Homura stares blankly into space, on the verge of falling over. Madoka and Sayaka are saying something, but their smiles are fragile and desperate, about to break. You wish you could reassure them, console them, anything… but you cannot risk it. You have only enough time for one last gift.
A touch flenses the vile cancer of Grief from their souls. What would normally be an hours-long operation, completed in the space of a thought. You must learn how to harness this safely someday. It will be worth it, no matter what you must suffer in the process. With that last act, you withdrawn back into your temporary prison. Again, you are separated from the world.
There is only one thing here with you, and they're exactly where they need to be.
There is nobody here that you can hurt. Nobody but you. Everyone is safe.
Your fingers catch on the flesh of reality and tear it open. A multicolored wound in space opens, spreading and consuming the tiny world you and your foe are trapped in. Nothing There, no longer content to simply stand by, rushes forward a moment too late. In an instant, your facility swallows the tiny world.
The sun and moon enclose one another in the sky, ribbons of black and white stretching and entwining to engulf the horizon. Gouts of murky green liquid leak from the cracks between. The deluge crashes down to form an emerald sea which stretches as far as the eye can see. From the ocean rises islands of metal, half-formed fractal buildings peeking up from the depths. As they grow closer to your perch, the aberrant structures grow more distinct and properly-shaped. Between the offices and laboratories are trees of gleaming iron and fields of glass. This world is artificial, constructed, built by the hands of man.
You stand atop the largest of these great islands, looking down at the facilities you have always ruled.
Nothing There charges across the expanse, each step reducing islands of steel and silicone to dust behind it. You lash out, your wings raking through the earth and sky. The Abnormality opposing you turns, changing from a straight run to irregular, sharp bursts of speed. Even as you redirect the pinions of your wings, they dance through the burning lights with a feral sort of grace. The few that do strike send your foe tumbling, but they bear-instantaneously right themselves and resume their course. Ineffective, but irrelevant. All you needed to do was slow them down.
Nothing There reaches the isle where your 'throne' sits and extends an arm. The first swing hits the earth, scattering rubble in what seems like an explosion that fills the air with thick dust. To an ordinary person, it would be impossible to see their arm stretch and into an immense, horrible blade, letting them strike a moment earlier than they would have otherwise been able to. Fortunately, you don't even have eyes anymore.
You decide to be elsewhere, and the world responds to your order. From several islands away, you watch your previous perch cleaved into pieces by Nothing There's blow. The assault continues, the Abnormality twisting and hurling a barrage of bony spikes in all directions at speeds that should by all logic be impossible to achieve without instantaneously combusting. One of the spikes impacts your shoulder as you reappear, making a tiny crack in the metal bark of your skin.
Nothing There's victory is short-lived. The earth rumbles as the island it stands on cracks and crumbles in on itself, jaws that could swallow buildings whole tearing through the ground and closing around the targeted location. Your opponent leaps forwards, attempting to escape, but before they can reach the edge the jaws slam shut. The enormous worm, thick brown chitin covering its exposed head, sits idle in the middle of your domain. It won't hold. You know very well that Nothing There is undamaged, and they will dig themself out eventually. But in the meantime, you can make preparations.
Shrines to gods whose names were long forgotten ruse from the depths of the viridian ocean, the air already crackling and warping at their presence. Smaller edifices surface around them, radiating an unsettling amethyst glow. Around them ancient machinery whirs to life, already churning out hordes of mindless automata. The first are crude, metal and wood, with only the barest remnants of even the shape of a human. You reach into the machinery, and the next set of creation begins.
Effigies of the past, entombed in black steel and lit by sickly green light. Coils of wires form the shapes of hair, hammered plates the memory of faces. In their hands are spears, hammers, swords, scythes, guns. Scattered through the isles of your realm they may be, but the echoes of a formation already begin to take shape. Your agents have returned to you, even if only as memories.
"You know the drill by now, everyone." you whisper to no one. "We've got a short day ahead of us."
———————————————
Kyoko Sakura: Exposure 0 -> Exposure X
Mark of Qliphoth Designated
Homura Akemi: Exposure IV -> Exposure X
Mark of Qliphoth Designated
Mami Tomoe: Exposure V -> Exposure VII
Sayaka Miki: Exposure IV -> Exposure VI
Madoka Kaname: Exposure II -> Exposure IV
Chitose Yuma: Exposure 0 -> Exposure III
Humanity: Exposure 0 -> Exposure III
Incubators: Exposure 0 -> Exposure I
Long ago, buried beneath centuries of duty, you remember how you would weep at the deaths of those who served under you. Each failure, each loss, left you begging and pleading for somebody to make it stop. Each time you too fell, you would cry out. You would weep and scream for somebody, anybody to help you. To save you. To save anyone. Until one day, you learned that it made no difference. No matter how you asked, how you cried, how you prayed, there was nobody who could help you. And so you stopped crying.
In a cold and indifferent world, there was no god to give you salvation. Only one person could put an end to the suffering that surrounded you. So there was no miracle that would rescue you from this pit? You would craft your own miracles. There were no commandments to guide you to freedom? You would give your own commandments. By your hand, you lifted those beneath you up from the depths and into the future with you. The future that you made, with your own will. And you loved it. For all the suffering, the death and pain, you cherished every small victory and step forwards. It was a purpose handed to you since you were made, but you would never dream of anything else. What greater cause could there be than helping others? That facility may have been your hell, but it was yours to rule.
You were foolish to think this world was any different. Kinder though it may be, it is still hell all the same. A part of your kingdom.
The first sensation you register is the cracking of your skin. Agony rips through you as flesh breaks off in stony chunks, the cracks spreading up your arms and running across the rest of your body. You do not scream as you fall apart, like a cocoon being torn open by an emerging butterfly. Beneath the fragments is a primordial lifeblood; the essence of divinity spilling onto the earth. Freed from structure, the pain fades into a dull emptiness. You collapse into an amorphous puddle, a hole in the world that twists and reaches outwards. You cannot see, cannot hear, cannot feel. Everything is but an empty void.
How inadequate.
A single clawed hand bursts from the mire, its warped metallic skin reflecting constellations that never were. The other soon follows, and your grip pierces the earth as you drag yourself up from the nothingness into being. Your body is twisted and monstrous, a towering mess of dull grey steel that branches and churns as if it had a life of its own, tracing infinitely complex patterns into your new flesh. Your upper half is still vaguely humanoid, featureless and twisted as it is. Metallic branches sprout from your skin, forming impressions of spines and horns. Your face is in contrast a smooth featureless plate, so pitch black it seems like a hole in space. Two moth-like antenna sprout from where your eyes would be. Your hair billows out behind you from between the boughs emerging from your skull in an immense cloud. In place of your coat ten stark white insectoid wings rest across your back, each one decorated with colorful patterns. Monstrous, yes, but still recognizably human.
Below your waist is a different story. Six enormous insectoid legs each end in something between a digitigrade claw and a hoof. The false wings line all along your back even as your body loses human shape and is twisted into something truly monstrous. A gnarled metal carapace encloses your abdomen, which ends in five whiplike tails that each terminate in a vicious spike dripping with iridescent fluid.
You take your first step forward. Your metal skin splits open all across your body, many-colored mechanical eyes staring out from the gaps. As your heel touches the concrete, it writhes and roils. The stone melts into sludge, which rises into the shape of flowers, which burn in impossible colors before collapsing back into formlessness. Another step, a new spring of creation bursts forth from the floor of the empty subway. The rain shimmers unnaturally, as if a million liquid prisms were falling from the sky. You exhale with lungs that you do not have, and a gentle breeze fills the stagnant tunnels. This world, kinder though it may be, is merely an extension of your old hell. And like the Facility before, it will obey your commands. Your very touch calls life from the nothingness. A thought could destroy it just as easily.
And yet, something is still missing. Could it be…
You spread your wings, and for a moment all is as it should be.
Not the false, useless things that drape across your back. They are beautiful, reminiscent of the nerve-like branches of glittering light revealed by Lobotomy. As you stretch, exploring the sensations that come with your true form's unveiling, they grow larger and longer until your radiance encompasses the sky. Each brilliant bough, each splayed nerve, grants more sublime clarity with which to see the world than you could ever imagined.
Your vision expands through Mitakihara, each street and building and person carefully witnessed and accounted for. You can feel your sight stretch further, clawing at the sky, but you reign it in. For now, all that you need concern yourself with is here. Instead, you focus your gaze and look deeper, peering into the world in a way you never could before. Your pinions claw at thousands of people all at once, carefully cataloguing the city's population. You are once again all-seeing, all-knowing. All secrets laid bare before a being who can comprehend anything.
With the exceptional clarity granted, the ecstasy of freedom drains away. There is no time to bask in your ascension. More urgent matters are before you, in need of resolution. Nothing There tears free of their cocoon, a towering figure of formless flesh dotted with misplaced features that could perhaps be contrived as human. Twenty-three of the thirty-seven Magical Girls, Kyoko among them, scream within the depths of the Abnormality's flesh. You ward away the chorus of chatter that inexplicably pours from the creature's body. Your work is not yet done. First you need to dispatch the Abnormality before you and retrieve their victims. Then, you'll need to begin working on repairing your seal. It wouldn't do to actually follow through on your threat to Kyubey.
Suddenly, reality shifts and ripples. The quarantine field closes in around you, cutting off the rest of the world. The crystalline structure folds in from nowhere, leaving only a small enclosure where you and Nothing There stand opposite one another on the ruined subway. You would gasp at the sudden loss of sensation if you still had lungs with which to breathe. Instead, you can feel only a wave of relief. It's too soon, too dangerous for you to exist freely. You're not stable yet. Within the containment, you aren't at risk of hurting anyone.
A single branch of your wings pokes at the field confining you. It's well-made, fully capable of restricting your reality-overriding effects to within its limits. Either Kyubey had been planning to use this against you ever since you were observed, the Incubators created it only in the time since your apotheosis, or they simply are used to confronting similar threats and already have countermeasures developed. None of the possibilities bode well. However, it has one critical flaw.
Your wing pushes through the barrier, as if it were not there. While you can't leave the field, Lobotomy can still reach through it. Nevertheless, it would do little good for you to circumvent the field now, while it serves your purposes. You will withdraw yourself, after you take care of one last issue.
You turn your attention to your children, gathered outside the crystalline void in space that is the outside of the containment field. Mami is on her kneees, weeping at the emptiness, Yuma pressing into her side. Homura stares blankly into space, on the verge of falling over. Madoka and Sayaka are saying something, but their smiles are fragile and desperate, about to break. You wish you could reassure them, console them, anything… but you cannot risk it. You have only enough time for one last gift.
A touch flenses the vile cancer of Grief from their souls. What would normally be an hours-long operation, completed in the space of a thought. You must learn how to harness this safely someday. It will be worth it, no matter what you must suffer in the process. With that last act, you withdrawn back into your temporary prison. Again, you are separated from the world.
There is only one thing here with you, and they're exactly where they need to be.
There is nobody here that you can hurt. Nobody but you. Everyone is safe.
Your fingers catch on the flesh of reality and tear it open. A multicolored wound in space opens, spreading and consuming the tiny world you and your foe are trapped in. Nothing There, no longer content to simply stand by, rushes forward a moment too late. In an instant, your facility swallows the tiny world.
The sun and moon enclose one another in the sky, ribbons of black and white stretching and entwining to engulf the horizon. Gouts of murky green liquid leak from the cracks between. The deluge crashes down to form an emerald sea which stretches as far as the eye can see. From the ocean rises islands of metal, half-formed fractal buildings peeking up from the depths. As they grow closer to your perch, the aberrant structures grow more distinct and properly-shaped. Between the offices and laboratories are trees of gleaming iron and fields of glass. This world is artificial, constructed, built by the hands of man.
You stand atop the largest of these great islands, looking down at the facilities you have always ruled.
Nothing There charges across the expanse, each step reducing islands of steel and silicone to dust behind it. You lash out, your wings raking through the earth and sky. The Abnormality opposing you turns, changing from a straight run to irregular, sharp bursts of speed. Even as you redirect the pinions of your wings, they dance through the burning lights with a feral sort of grace. The few that do strike send your foe tumbling, but they bear-instantaneously right themselves and resume their course. Ineffective, but irrelevant. All you needed to do was slow them down.
Nothing There reaches the isle where your 'throne' sits and extends an arm. The first swing hits the earth, scattering rubble in what seems like an explosion that fills the air with thick dust. To an ordinary person, it would be impossible to see their arm stretch and into an immense, horrible blade, letting them strike a moment earlier than they would have otherwise been able to. Fortunately, you don't even have eyes anymore.
You decide to be elsewhere, and the world responds to your order. From several islands away, you watch your previous perch cleaved into pieces by Nothing There's blow. The assault continues, the Abnormality twisting and hurling a barrage of bony spikes in all directions at speeds that should by all logic be impossible to achieve without instantaneously combusting. One of the spikes impacts your shoulder as you reappear, making a tiny crack in the metal bark of your skin.
Nothing There's victory is short-lived. The earth rumbles as the island it stands on cracks and crumbles in on itself, jaws that could swallow buildings whole tearing through the ground and closing around the targeted location. Your opponent leaps forwards, attempting to escape, but before they can reach the edge the jaws slam shut. The enormous worm, thick brown chitin covering its exposed head, sits idle in the middle of your domain. It won't hold. You know very well that Nothing There is undamaged, and they will dig themself out eventually. But in the meantime, you can make preparations.
Shrines to gods whose names were long forgotten ruse from the depths of the viridian ocean, the air already crackling and warping at their presence. Smaller edifices surface around them, radiating an unsettling amethyst glow. Around them ancient machinery whirs to life, already churning out hordes of mindless automata. The first are crude, metal and wood, with only the barest remnants of even the shape of a human. You reach into the machinery, and the next set of creation begins.
Effigies of the past, entombed in black steel and lit by sickly green light. Coils of wires form the shapes of hair, hammered plates the memory of faces. In their hands are spears, hammers, swords, scythes, guns. Scattered through the isles of your realm they may be, but the echoes of a formation already begin to take shape. Your agents have returned to you, even if only as memories.
"You know the drill by now, everyone." you whisper to no one. "We've got a short day ahead of us."
———————————————
Kyoko Sakura: Exposure 0 -> Exposure X
Mark of Qliphoth Designated
Homura Akemi: Exposure IV -> Exposure X
Mark of Qliphoth Designated
Mami Tomoe: Exposure V -> Exposure VII
Sayaka Miki: Exposure IV -> Exposure VI
Madoka Kaname: Exposure II -> Exposure IV
Chitose Yuma: Exposure 0 -> Exposure III
Humanity: Exposure 0 -> Exposure III
Incubators: Exposure 0 -> Exposure I
Last edited:
Observation: Daughter of the Sun and Moon
Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Daughter Of The Sun And Moon
An Abnormality representing and fused with the Facility of Lobotomy Corporation, which reigns supreme as one of the few true rulers among Abnormalities. Seeks to shelter, protect, and nurture others, but its power only ever brings ruin.
Lobotomy: Capability to modify the "self". Channeled through your wings, which can be manipulated freely and do not have a limit to range, size, or number. Stable and well-defined personalities are more vulnerable to manipulation, as are people who are emotionally vulnerable. At a surface level, Lobotomy allows you to observe a person's memories and beliefs freely. Any of the person's traits can be modified either temporarily or permanently. Lobotomy is undetectable in those it works on.
Lobotomy's "wings" are not physical body parts, but more a shadow cast by the ability itself. Damage to them is meaningless and can be effortlessly repaired. While ordinarily invisible and intangible, they can be given physicality to either attack with or simply use as additional appendages.
Abnormalities cannot be affected by Lobotomy traditionally, due to their "identity" being a consequence of the idea they represent instead of the summation of their existence. Instead, Lobotomy simply inflicts severe damage against Abnormalities.
Cogito Fantasia: You scatter the clinging embers of the Seed of Light around you. These fragments of Light are only visible to you, and give some insight into the emotions of other beings within their reach. This Light can gifted through Lobotomy to grant the potential to unlock one's true self.
Qliphotic: Your presence passively constructs a new Facility, controlled by you and your Department Heads. While your facility ordinarily bleeds out into the world, you can enter and use its facilities it regardless of whether it has manifested or not.
The reconstructed Facility retains all of its original features and technologies. They can be used either directly in the Facility or incorporated into your body. As the Facility's "size" is infinite, damage to it is irrelevant.
Revolution: You remain inextricably linked to the Well of Humanity. You are immune to mental influences and carry authority over anything derived from human emotion. This allows for communication with Abnormalities, as well as some degree of authority over them. While Abnormalities cannot act against their nature and are innately inhuman, they still yearn to be understood.
Order: Commands imbued with intent. Allows for communication unmarred by misinterpretations and with additional effects on Distortions. Those given commands are not obligated to obey them but can go beyond their normal limits to complete assigned tasks.
Interpretation: The power to sculpt from thought into reality. You can extract from your memories to create creatures, places, or items. EGO Gear can be replicated and integrated into these creations once a suitable blueprint has been given. The follow creations can be drawn from Interpretation: Eternal Meal, Last Helix, The God Delusion, and the EGO of Punishing Bird, Big Bird, The Knight Of Despair, Army in Pink, Blue Star, and Nothing There.
An Abnormality representing and fused with the Facility of Lobotomy Corporation, which reigns supreme as one of the few true rulers among Abnormalities. Seeks to shelter, protect, and nurture others, but its power only ever brings ruin.
Lobotomy: Capability to modify the "self". Channeled through your wings, which can be manipulated freely and do not have a limit to range, size, or number. Stable and well-defined personalities are more vulnerable to manipulation, as are people who are emotionally vulnerable. At a surface level, Lobotomy allows you to observe a person's memories and beliefs freely. Any of the person's traits can be modified either temporarily or permanently. Lobotomy is undetectable in those it works on.
Lobotomy's "wings" are not physical body parts, but more a shadow cast by the ability itself. Damage to them is meaningless and can be effortlessly repaired. While ordinarily invisible and intangible, they can be given physicality to either attack with or simply use as additional appendages.
Abnormalities cannot be affected by Lobotomy traditionally, due to their "identity" being a consequence of the idea they represent instead of the summation of their existence. Instead, Lobotomy simply inflicts severe damage against Abnormalities.
Cogito Fantasia: You scatter the clinging embers of the Seed of Light around you. These fragments of Light are only visible to you, and give some insight into the emotions of other beings within their reach. This Light can gifted through Lobotomy to grant the potential to unlock one's true self.
Qliphotic: Your presence passively constructs a new Facility, controlled by you and your Department Heads. While your facility ordinarily bleeds out into the world, you can enter and use its facilities it regardless of whether it has manifested or not.
The reconstructed Facility retains all of its original features and technologies. They can be used either directly in the Facility or incorporated into your body. As the Facility's "size" is infinite, damage to it is irrelevant.
- Control Department - Lilith
- Information Department - Gomaliel
- Training Department - Samael
- Safety Department - Gharab
- Central Command Department - Tagimron
Revolution: You remain inextricably linked to the Well of Humanity. You are immune to mental influences and carry authority over anything derived from human emotion. This allows for communication with Abnormalities, as well as some degree of authority over them. While Abnormalities cannot act against their nature and are innately inhuman, they still yearn to be understood.
Order: Commands imbued with intent. Allows for communication unmarred by misinterpretations and with additional effects on Distortions. Those given commands are not obligated to obey them but can go beyond their normal limits to complete assigned tasks.
Interpretation: The power to sculpt from thought into reality. You can extract from your memories to create creatures, places, or items. EGO Gear can be replicated and integrated into these creations once a suitable blueprint has been given. The follow creations can be drawn from Interpretation: Eternal Meal, Last Helix, The God Delusion, and the EGO of Punishing Bird, Big Bird, The Knight Of Despair, Army in Pink, Blue Star, and Nothing There.
- Eternal Meal
- Last Helix
- The God Delusion
- A Sword Sharpened With Tears
- Beak
- Lamp
- Pinks
- Sound of a Star
- Mimicry
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Lepidoptera
Mother of Monsters, Unverified Impuritas Civitatis
- Location
- Indeterminate Unknown
Don't worry about things becoming too easy; I have more than enough prepared for the future.
All of humanity is counted and soon the incubator race will also be included
Kalibrius
God of reflection
- Location
- The other side of the mirror
Thus ends the reception of Nothing There
......... and dear lord we are no abberant if White night
If White mights the antichrist then apparently Aleph is based on SATANAEL OR LUCIFER, THE DAMNABLE DEVIL HIMSELF
AND LEP YOU DIDN'T NEED TO TAKE MY LIGHT COMMENT SO SERIOUSLY!!!!!
PARDON MY FRENCH BUT HOLY MOTHER OF S***
AND IS ALEPH BLATANTLY BUILDING THE BRANCH OF THE LIBRARY HIMSELF!!!!!!!!!
......... and dear lord we are no abberant if White night
If White mights the antichrist then apparently Aleph is based on SATANAEL OR LUCIFER, THE DAMNABLE DEVIL HIMSELF
AND LEP YOU DIDN'T NEED TO TAKE MY LIGHT COMMENT SO SERIOUSLY!!!!!
PARDON MY FRENCH BUT HOLY MOTHER OF S***
AND IS ALEPH BLATANTLY BUILDING THE BRANCH OF THE LIBRARY HIMSELF!!!!!!!!!
kaillll
Judgment Upon You
Whitenight is the serpent and Lucifers desire to replace god with himself(With the serpent and the apple as the main theme of his weapon, And paradise lost)
We, are humanitys attempt to build a tower towards heaven and we have succeeded.
We are the tower of Babel and we have become the ruler of worlds because god has been toppled.
We, are humanitys attempt to build a tower towards heaven and we have succeeded.
We are the tower of Babel and we have become the ruler of worlds because god has been toppled.
Lurker183839
Question Machine Gun
This really is the bruh moment to end all bruh moments (Qliphoth is a beyond ominous name here...)
Looks at The Agnus Principle...
Quite the ominous name we have here, huh
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Lurker183839
Question Machine Gun
At least this time there's continuity of consciousness unlike earlier in 4.7 huh
- Location
- ?
From just a quick reading of what it means,its NOTHING GOOD.If any of the interpretations, meanings,etc. I've read are true here,things are only going to get worse.
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kaillll
Judgment Upon You
oh no....
This is really really not good.
Qliphoth, the reverse of Sefirot.
The suppression of self, The ugliness of humanity, The reverse of all that is good of a humans mind.
And this Mark is granted by us.
oh fuck.
Lurker183839
Question Machine Gun
Looking through the Informational for things we can use later:
Anyone know the terms of the Qliphotic Tree or the Mythological Figures that are likely to be used from now on?
Waitttttt, True Self does NOT necessarily mean EGO or Distortion...
We don't need to worry about causing problems with Lobotomy, unless we *decide* to make them ourselves (also, a new beatstick to use if things get to that)
We aren't going to get TT2, Regenerators (wait, the Red ones might be useful), or Deterrence; but the Employee records, City Tech? Those are free real estate if we are careful
No need to worry about mind control (but that means we can't use it to block stupid decisions), but this is incredibly useful for Repression or limit buffing here
Anyone know the terms of the Qliphotic Tree or the Mythological Figures that are likely to be used from now on?
Waitttttt, True Self does NOT necessarily mean EGO or Distortion...
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Akumora. The temptress of Godoka.
Lurker183839
Question Machine Gun
Unfortunately I think we might've been able to avoid this if we knew Lobotomy could be used as a Bludgeon for Abnormalities earlier