Glorious Shotgun Princess, Thread 3
- Thread starter GreggHL
- Start date
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Crickets chirp faintly. She sips her coffee, tapping her fingers.GreggHL said:
"Anything? Any questions?"
Robo Jesus
Your Mechanical Messiah
"Yes, where exactly did those crickets come from? This place should be free of crickets."GreggHL said:
"IXP News, is there any truth to the claims of an Geth platform holding the title of 'The Unconquered Wuffles' who was reported seen doing battle with an oversized mantis shrimp, and what exactly does this mean for both the Quarians and the galaxy as a whole?"
- Location
- Singapore
"What is your relation to one Kasumi Goto?"
PhoenixFTW
Insert Witty One-Liner Here
- Location
- Minnesota
"Sorry, but after the giant robot and *shudders* spider, you're just not that impressive.GreggHL said:
Robo Jesus
Your Mechanical Messiah
"Pria was it? Would you mind giving the public a quick biography of yourself and your companions?"
Kroganball is like Russian politics; it has no rules.Forgetful said:
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
"Yes. Yes, of course." She sips her coffee. "My full name is Perceptor Rimi vas Otreyyu nal Vu. I'm a Shaper-cahm turned mentor. For the past hundred an thirty four cycles, I have served as a limited advisor to Deus Machina and any other Exalted who meet Him."Robo Jesus said:
She sips her coffee again.
"I am also what you would, technically classify as a god. A god. Not the God."
She sips her coffee once moe, blue eyes darting to another reporter.
swordomatic said:
"Goto," she growls the name as a half-affectionate curse, "Is my successor. And a lazy, shiftless woman who, nonetheless, has been improving lately, even though it has somehow taken her five hundred years to finally initiate into the Emerald Circle."
Dirtnap said:
Pria sighs. "No, they are true, though I will admit it does take being able to channel Essence to be able to actually learn the," she air quotes, "'Bullshit Magic.'" She sighs. "Ancestors. I'm sounding like Shepard."
She sips her coffee, turning crystal blue eyes to another reporter.
Robo Jesus said:"Yes, where exactly did those crickets come from? This place should be free of crickets."
"IXP News, is there any truth to the claims of an Geth platform holding the title of 'The Unconquered Wuffles' who was reported seen doing battle with an oversized mantis shrimp, and what exactly does this mean for both the Quarians and the galaxy as a whole?"
"Complete truth. The name is a nickname, it's actually the same Geth you may have spotted with Shepard. The platform was created by Autochthon. As for the quarian and Geth relations, it's rather pleasing. I'm actually quite proud they're getting along together. It's like watching my children and grandchildren getting along together again."
She shrugs. "One hopes, at least."
Gamerex27 said:
She nods to the first question. "It is possible. It's, ah." She tilts her head side to side. "It's a matter of being enlightened. With the right charms, Shepard could do so. With the right resources, anyone can. And…ah…second question?"
She listens to the second question. Blanches.
"Tactics don't work. Luck, maybe. If it helps, the fact that you didn't know about the exalted or essence until now may be the best hope you have. My people knew everything, and they still fell within centuries."
... Too tempting.
"Miss vas Otreyyu, hypothetically speaking, if we were currently existing in a state that may be termed 'non-canonical' to reality, or an 'omake', what would be the effect on the Grand Design?"
EDIT: Also, do you notice how almost all the off topic natter is gone, and more to the point, how it's probably intentional on Gregg's part?
"Miss vas Otreyyu, hypothetically speaking, if we were currently existing in a state that may be termed 'non-canonical' to reality, or an 'omake', what would be the effect on the Grand Design?"
EDIT: Also, do you notice how almost all the off topic natter is gone, and more to the point, how it's probably intentional on Gregg's part?
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
"A. Nonymous from Pedantry Today here. Miss Pria, could you please explain how you managed to make a cup of coffee moe?"
For a more serious question: "On a scale of 1 to Totally Fucked, how worried should we be that the space station we're currently sitting in was built by sapient magic robocancer to be the command center for a billion-year long series of purges of spacefaring civilizations in our galaxy?"
For a more serious question: "On a scale of 1 to Totally Fucked, how worried should we be that the space station we're currently sitting in was built by sapient magic robocancer to be the command center for a billion-year long series of purges of spacefaring civilizations in our galaxy?"
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Pria blnks, and shakes her head. "No, no. It is a god." She lets that statement stand for a moment, sipping her coffee. "No, wait. Mm." She sucks her teeth, tapping her fingers.Mortifer said:
"Well, the AI is a god, not a God. Think animistic, animating intelligence of the structure, the Least God. Not the abrahamic, voice-on-the-mountain God. Right. Next question?"
"Long, loooooong story, but let's just say I hear a lot of things whenever someone thanks the Ancestors."Manin said:
She shrugs, flattened ears twitching. "It's not like the story is on hold. Here." She waves her hands, whispering something. A white crack in space becomes a Macbook Pro. "See, let me see…well, he's working on the script and…"Firnagzen said:
She pauses, staring at the screen. "I end up having sex with who?" She blinks, tapping the down key. "That's…that's a very extensive scene. A very, very…long." Her eyes snap open. She closes the computer.
"Next question?"
"I would say we are on the 'mostly fucked' area of the scale." She sighs. "I can bring in someone to explain this, I hope. But the Catalyst hasn't been answering calls. Let me…" She waves her hands again. While and sapphire lines write themselves on the ground, and she turns back to the podium. "Okay, next question?"TheSandman said:"A. Nonymous from Pedantry Today here. Miss Pria, could you please explain how you managed to make a cup of coffee moe?"
For a more serious question: "On a scale of 1 to Totally Fucked, how worried should we be that the space station we're currently sitting in was built by sapient magic robocancer to be the command center for a billion-year long series of purges of spacefaring civilizations in our galaxy?"
"Well, most survivors make it to Deus Machina," she explains, as the white lines split the ground and something emerges, "My people ended up…elsewhere, but most end up on Deus Machina. An Alchemical is created, which serves as a testament to the people if they die off." She taps her fingers. "Mine did not, I was created instead. Although my people haven't actually died off. Instead, there is….is…"Al Ray said:
She turns. Looks up. Cranes her neck up and up and up. Shuffling aside, she gestures to the podium. "Your turn," she squeaks.
The metal giant falls to one knee, pustular red eye focusing on the reporters. Resting its obsidian beamklaive, it opens its many jaws and spears.
"First question," the Viator of Nullspace booms.
- Location
- The sixth circle of Hell (second on weekends)
- Pronouns
- She/Her
"Please, please, please don't kill me."
- Location
- Singapore
"What if your legs didn't know they were legs?"
28
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
In the past two weeks, the Sun has risen three times, the stars have come out twice, and the Moon has come out five times. All in all, Luna must be playing a good game. Not that he would know what the game is, as when he was created, he had all memory of the Games removed.
Even the memories Autochthon, the Titan Autochthon had of the Games were not transferred to him. Which meant, as well, he didn't know how they were made, so he couldn't recreate them on Deus. Which meant he didn't know the first thing about them, which troubles him even more. A war was fought over them.
It had been done for some reason or another, though at the time- as now- it eludes him. There were no Games in the strange Universe he cast the Design over. No raw material or perfect state in which to craft Great Amusement.
No Raksha, either.
Small favors.
Still, that is another matter. Musing shuffled off to let the Geth in his body play with, Autochthon turns his bearded disguise-body to the woman standing in front of his desk. Blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, clad in a simple white blouse, long black skirt and long jacket, she is attractive. Potential to be attractive, if she dressed a bit less severe.
"Right, who are you?" he asks.
"I am Win Keilm, God of Wardrobe Malfunctions."
Autochthon stares at her. Well, not exactly her, but the clasps on her blouse. Waiting, watching. At least, until a folder falls into her hands, open and with an unfurled scroll. "Excellent," she says, "Right on cue."
There I a creak, a moan of wood and metal bending. Autochthon and Noedumari glance past Win and watch the wardrobe built into the wall. A screw falls to the ground and one door pops open, hanging lazily. The goddess in front of them places her folder on the desk, stamps the scroll, and dismisses the folder with a lazy wave.
"Fascinating," Autochthon says. He blinks, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It makes sense, of course. He is familiar with how concepts need gods. It does not mean, however, that it does not induce headaches. "Right. As you know, I am the new head of the Department of Machines, so..."
She sighs, folding her arms and propping up her chest. "Right. What do I have to do to keep my job?" Pursing her lips, crooking them to the side, her eyes glance up and down. "I managed to keep the hands of your predecessor off me, but he was a bit slimy. You seem less...objectionable."
Gears click behind the eyes of the golden, bearded construct. Behind him, Noedumari pinches the bridge of her nose. "He's not propositioning you." Win turns to the dark haired god. "He's not. He's just...." She rubs the back of her neck. "Sir, what are you doing?"
The golden eyes light up again. Tapping fingers, he turns to his assistant, then to the god in front of his desk. "Ah! Yes! Needed to go over what room you have in your purview and what you oversee exactly. Would you have time later?"
Win nods, smiling. "Of course. Perhaps later tonight?" She bows, first to him and then to Noedumari, and turns on her heel. The moving floor carries her across the office-cum-workship and out the overly large double doors. Turning in the chair, rotating it around to face Noedumari, he taps his polished wood armrests.
"That was the fifth female god who believed I was asking for sexual favors in exchange for her keeping her job." Her works his jaw. "And I have interviewed five female gods so far. This is common in Yu Shan?"
She nods, leaning against him, her hands pressed against his chest. "It is. I've had my fair share of superiors like that. Remember how I said you're not the first man who's caused me to lose my job?"
He nods. She pushes off of him, walking around the desk, towards the broken wardrobe and easing the door closed. As she does so, as she begins going through folders for the next appointment, Autochthon tents his fingers on his chest and retreats back into thought. Heaven is corrupt- and the question is, how corrupt is it? How much of it is endemic, how much of it is circumstances, and how much of it is in it's very nature?
It is more to think on. It is more to wonder on, but still. Still, it wasn't like this when he first left. But that was a long time ago, and he was a very, very different being then. "Still. Still, still." The familiar grinding of the moving floor and the chime on the wall signals the new arrival at his desk. "Noedumari, is that the next appointment?"
He turns, just before the folders drop to the floor and a pale, terrified Noedumari backs up past the desk. Turning to the desk, he looks up. Eyes beyond green, beyond emerald, pure viridian meet his. Hair red like late autumn leaves and flowing blood fall around a face white and flawless like marble.
"When I confronted Luna about how I was not informed of your return, she was actually apologetic. So apparently you've changed enough that you no longer actively terrify her."
Golden eyes blink. Age, years, growing old are foreign concepts to gods. Even moreso to those who stand levels beyond the gods. So it is no surprise to see that the woman before him has not changed in the eons since he has beheld her.
The same grace. The same flawless, terrifying beauty. The same face she wore when he last beheld her. Standing up from his chair, he steps between her and Noedumari. The disguise he wears shifts, a white crack in the floor beneath him releasing liquid gold that becomes his more familiar. Thee meter tall encounter suit.
The first sounds of the greeting escape the grill of his mouth. Cut short by her open hand which catches him across the face and nearly brings him to the floor. Noedumari half moves from the wall behind the desk to his side, eyes still locked on the woman before her.
Then the red haired woman's expression softens. She takes his hand, massive against his own, and clasps it with both her own. "Welcome home, brother. We have much to talk about."
His other hand on the dent that blemishes half his face, he nods. His other hand lightly comes down on her shoulder, golden fingers resting on the emerald mantle of her gown. "It's good to be home, Gaia."
Even the memories Autochthon, the Titan Autochthon had of the Games were not transferred to him. Which meant, as well, he didn't know how they were made, so he couldn't recreate them on Deus. Which meant he didn't know the first thing about them, which troubles him even more. A war was fought over them.
It had been done for some reason or another, though at the time- as now- it eludes him. There were no Games in the strange Universe he cast the Design over. No raw material or perfect state in which to craft Great Amusement.
No Raksha, either.
Small favors.
Still, that is another matter. Musing shuffled off to let the Geth in his body play with, Autochthon turns his bearded disguise-body to the woman standing in front of his desk. Blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, clad in a simple white blouse, long black skirt and long jacket, she is attractive. Potential to be attractive, if she dressed a bit less severe.
"Right, who are you?" he asks.
"I am Win Keilm, God of Wardrobe Malfunctions."
Autochthon stares at her. Well, not exactly her, but the clasps on her blouse. Waiting, watching. At least, until a folder falls into her hands, open and with an unfurled scroll. "Excellent," she says, "Right on cue."
There I a creak, a moan of wood and metal bending. Autochthon and Noedumari glance past Win and watch the wardrobe built into the wall. A screw falls to the ground and one door pops open, hanging lazily. The goddess in front of them places her folder on the desk, stamps the scroll, and dismisses the folder with a lazy wave.
"Fascinating," Autochthon says. He blinks, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It makes sense, of course. He is familiar with how concepts need gods. It does not mean, however, that it does not induce headaches. "Right. As you know, I am the new head of the Department of Machines, so..."
She sighs, folding her arms and propping up her chest. "Right. What do I have to do to keep my job?" Pursing her lips, crooking them to the side, her eyes glance up and down. "I managed to keep the hands of your predecessor off me, but he was a bit slimy. You seem less...objectionable."
Gears click behind the eyes of the golden, bearded construct. Behind him, Noedumari pinches the bridge of her nose. "He's not propositioning you." Win turns to the dark haired god. "He's not. He's just...." She rubs the back of her neck. "Sir, what are you doing?"
The golden eyes light up again. Tapping fingers, he turns to his assistant, then to the god in front of his desk. "Ah! Yes! Needed to go over what room you have in your purview and what you oversee exactly. Would you have time later?"
Win nods, smiling. "Of course. Perhaps later tonight?" She bows, first to him and then to Noedumari, and turns on her heel. The moving floor carries her across the office-cum-workship and out the overly large double doors. Turning in the chair, rotating it around to face Noedumari, he taps his polished wood armrests.
"That was the fifth female god who believed I was asking for sexual favors in exchange for her keeping her job." Her works his jaw. "And I have interviewed five female gods so far. This is common in Yu Shan?"
She nods, leaning against him, her hands pressed against his chest. "It is. I've had my fair share of superiors like that. Remember how I said you're not the first man who's caused me to lose my job?"
He nods. She pushes off of him, walking around the desk, towards the broken wardrobe and easing the door closed. As she does so, as she begins going through folders for the next appointment, Autochthon tents his fingers on his chest and retreats back into thought. Heaven is corrupt- and the question is, how corrupt is it? How much of it is endemic, how much of it is circumstances, and how much of it is in it's very nature?
It is more to think on. It is more to wonder on, but still. Still, it wasn't like this when he first left. But that was a long time ago, and he was a very, very different being then. "Still. Still, still." The familiar grinding of the moving floor and the chime on the wall signals the new arrival at his desk. "Noedumari, is that the next appointment?"
He turns, just before the folders drop to the floor and a pale, terrified Noedumari backs up past the desk. Turning to the desk, he looks up. Eyes beyond green, beyond emerald, pure viridian meet his. Hair red like late autumn leaves and flowing blood fall around a face white and flawless like marble.
"When I confronted Luna about how I was not informed of your return, she was actually apologetic. So apparently you've changed enough that you no longer actively terrify her."
Golden eyes blink. Age, years, growing old are foreign concepts to gods. Even moreso to those who stand levels beyond the gods. So it is no surprise to see that the woman before him has not changed in the eons since he has beheld her.
The same grace. The same flawless, terrifying beauty. The same face she wore when he last beheld her. Standing up from his chair, he steps between her and Noedumari. The disguise he wears shifts, a white crack in the floor beneath him releasing liquid gold that becomes his more familiar. Thee meter tall encounter suit.
The first sounds of the greeting escape the grill of his mouth. Cut short by her open hand which catches him across the face and nearly brings him to the floor. Noedumari half moves from the wall behind the desk to his side, eyes still locked on the woman before her.
Then the red haired woman's expression softens. She takes his hand, massive against his own, and clasps it with both her own. "Welcome home, brother. We have much to talk about."
His other hand on the dent that blemishes half his face, he nods. His other hand lightly comes down on her shoulder, golden fingers resting on the emerald mantle of her gown. "It's good to be home, Gaia."
ಠ_ಠGreggHL said:
Ok, which of the Shepard clan looks like her?
...
No, better question. Which important female figure in Creation doesn't look like one of the Shepard clan? (Or vice versa. Whatever. The sentence doesn't conjugate properly the other way.)
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
Wrong approach. And it's more evident when you take the other approach- this is Gaia. She is an ideal, a template and primordial. It would be less accurate to say "She looks like Shepard" and more accurate to say "As a beautiful woman, there are ways in which Shepard looks like The Emerald Mother."Firnagzen said:
- Location
- Germany
Or both!Daedwartin said:
GreggHL
Engaging hilarity engine/air intake
- Location
- Daejeon, Republic of Korea
"The fallen, failed Sun is no concern of ours. Our final foe will be the Green Sun of the Chained Hell- whom is but an imitation, a lesser effigy of what once was. It will burn, fall, and be consumed. Like the rest of its Kin!"horngeek said:
The pustular eye pins the Alchemical with a glare. "As will all. Including my Reapers."
HioH said:
"It is for lesser beings. All know me by the breaking of reality around me, not by the cackle of my voice."
Dirtnap said:
"We are our super weapon. We have no plans to dominate this galaxy, for it is already ours."
Terrace said:
The Viator stares at the impudent mortal. It extends a hand and lets the beamklaive fly, spearing it and reducing the mortal to base components, and a gem upon its chest glows a bit brighter.
Lirana said:
"We have killed our share of Exalts. But this one will not fall to us. Our son, the Resplendent Harbinger, will destroy her, as he has her countless predecessors."
Aleph said:
"There are greater things than death, mortal. Sweeter and more horrific ends. There are more than-" The speech of the Viator is interrupted by a glowing white sword that exits the front of its throat.
Mortifer said:
"Sorry, but those are unfounded," the figure of white light on the Viator's shoulders says, his sword protruding from the black giant's neck, "It may concern me and Shepard's cousin, Jennifer. We have been introduced, but there hasn't been anything that serious."
A flash of white, and the giant explodes into shadows which flicker and retreat into the floor. Sliding the blade across the scabbard on his waist, he twists the sword in one hand and sheathes it. "Apologies, Pria. I was late in replying."
He smiles, a remarkably handsome man with light red hair and clad plainly, a faint white aura wafting off of him. "I am the Catalyst, and free to answer any of your questions."