NexysDhyArchen
Throne Breaker
Reactive I suspect. Further reactions from self delayed due to work shift.
Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)
- Thread starter Prok
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- Goose Land
She appears to be?
She appears to be what!
The people nees to know Prok!
- Location
- USA
Tai "entire team" Yang trauma there most likely. He's probably worried Jaune would be a similar danger, if irrationally.
Face politics. He probably successfully covered up why that happened, so using the cops to press charges would be a problem.
Or Qrow leaned on him. Or he's worried about even the slightest implication that he was talking getting to Raven. She's probably gotten to some people that felt very safe behind their door that never was unlocked.
THatWhichWillBe
The Squiddly One
- Location
- In The Darkened Deep
I mean he still might be that kind of danger, considering how things are shaping up...
- Location
- The Surface Of A Hostile Planet
I mean he still might be that kind of danger, considering how things are shaping up...
no cheating on weiss >:[
To be fair, we are only get one side of the discussion, so massive trolling is a possibility. If they were both like this, then it would seem weird for anyone much to question the matter in a document that included it(Yes, some might tut-tut about it and say that such a thing would never happen, but I would expect those same to edit the text to reduce the overt-flirting-quotient), barring some weird scenario like them both being known massive trolls who absolutely would flirt outrageously for years just for a mad laugh. There is also the issue that implying a sexual relationship can be a form of weapon. I mean, yes, you are absolutely correct, but it remains technically true that there are theoretical alternatives.
THatWhichWillBe
The Squiddly One
- Location
- In The Darkened Deep
don't worry, we'll share them *with* weiss.
nmWarden
Webcomic Glutton
- Location
- Texas
Last edited:
This sentence seems to be broken.
Congratulations, my new head cannon is that Cinder is secretly Tim Taylor
PsyFarrow
Verified Necrodancer
- Location
- Space
My god, they were roommates
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
Fixed, thank you!
The reason that there's any kind of murkiness to it is that almost all of Piranesi's found correspondence runs in much the same vein- the man was just like that, it seemed. Either this was some kind of weird ritual, or he had loved and left half of his contemporaries over the course of decades. Then they started finding letters sent by people other than him, and as a matter of fact, er... all, correspondence from that era, before any kind of technological communication existed, was in much the same vein.
Even in official letters between, say, a king and his general, it was more unusual for one to not be peppered with compliments and sweet poetry. Some people assume that the poetry may have been some kind of code; except, why would people who have no reason to send codes bother with it, then?
Then they realised- "oh, wait, they're just showering the other person with compliments and sweetness to make them happy. As a Grimm deterrent. The Grimm that are attracted by sadness. To deter the sadness that attracts Grimm.
Then letters like this started to make way more sense. It was just a nice way of sending someone some positive vibes in the vague hope that it would keep them from becoming Grimm chow for a little while longer. Hell, even the envelopes had nice messages for the messenger, in the hopes that it would make them a little bit less likely to fall victim to the Grimm. It was a, society-wide thing that outlasted the society it started in, as far as historians can tell.
The reason they can't be entirely certain of their relationship is that this kind of thing was common, and at the same time, that much affection was somewhat uncommon. Maybe Piranesi had no problem telling his bros he loved them. Maybe they really were just at that level of displays of affection.
But I mean, come on; calling Maram his Sagithoi-lit Caprist knight? They absolutely fucked.
That kinda thing doesn't do someone's reputation any favours. Still, you'll find out exactly what happened, er... eh...
Tomorrow...?
Tomorrow. I can do this. I can power through a cold to finish something, I think.
Tale Swapper
(Unverified Madman)
- Location
- Lost Among a Sea of Imaginings and Dreams
That's a really neat idea! Is it okay if I borrow it for one of my stories?
- Location
- Philippines
Huh, complimenting people on the letters, even the people delivering it to lighten their mood and as Grimm repellant.
Nice detail, it's plausible, and sounds fun plus it adds a nice touch of how society adapts its norms to Grimm, even one as mundane as letter writing and delivery
Nice detail, it's plausible, and sounds fun plus it adds a nice touch of how society adapts its norms to Grimm, even one as mundane as letter writing and delivery
NexysDhyArchen
Throne Breaker
"Please deliver this sealed envelope to the address above with utmost haste. Have a hearty meal first, take care of your aches. Much love, hugs and kisses, cash on delivery."
- Location
- Goose Land
Jaune: Listen, I'll ride or die with you but miss me with that therapy shit, I ain't got time for that.
Blake: ....thanks?
Eisenhelm
gran dutch of douchery
- Location
- Colombia
We belive in you prok.
- Location
- Jaburo
I hope you can and believe in you, Prok. But at the same time, don't make yourself more sick just for our entertainment.
Grey()
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
Go for it, my guy.
In absolute fairness to people who thought as much, I am a vindictive little fucker when I'm sick, and it very much did start as a mean-spirited jab at all of the historians who looked at relationships like Achilles and Patroclus in the year of our lord current and still go "tHeY wErE jUsT fRiEnDs-" but I was convinced to take it a little bit further, and I think that was the right decision.
Pretty much!
It is a bit weird in retrospect, I'll give you that, but think about it- going out to punch a bunch of White Fang or something? That's like, 6-8 hours of his time, performing an easily quantifiable task with an easy endpoint. Talking every now and then? Bit harder to deal with, but Jaune's gotten pretty good at it by now.
Long-term on-call emotional care? 'You can talk to me anytime, anyplace?' Fuuuuuck that for a game of soldiers.
Well, if you want to set yourselves up for disappointment, YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO GO FIND ANOTHER QM MOTHERFUCKERS-
One Week and Change Ago.
Bumblebee thrums almost angrily beneath you as you sit at your third red light in 10 minutes, supporting foot tapping impatiently as they change to let everyone go straight through, meaning there's now a line of cars going the other way that you'll have to contend with while you wanted to turn right.
TaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaparrowlitupthankGOD-
You can't take the turn fast enough, and the last half-mile of your journey zips past in about 15 seconds, uncaring of the speed cameras going off as you blast down the straight to Junior's.
Your name is Yang Xiao Long, and despite what Ruby thinks, you're smart enough to spray Bumblebee's licence plates before going out to deal with a major criminal. A little voice in your head that starts its sentences off with eeeeaaackhshually points out that Bumblebee is so much of a custom job at this point that they could probably find you again just by describing it.
You shove that voice into a locker and call it a nerd.
Parking outside Junior's, you stop for a moment, leaning against Bumblebee, and feeling the interior gyro system leaning back in response. This is… something you certainly were going to have to do eventually, and you're aware of that, you're fine with that, but it's… still a little nerve-wracking. So, you take a moment. If you were a smoker, you might have had one while you waited. Instead, you just gather your thoughts, visualise your plan, and load Ember Celica.
With non-lethal rounds! Custom-made for today, because you don't know if Junior and his guys have Aura or not, and you'd rather not risk it. So, rubber pellets, some rock salt, and just enough powder to keep it subsonic. You had Ruby test one on you, and you barely felt it- barely touched your Aura, either. It shouldn't kill anyone so long as you don't hit them in the eye, or straight in the chest, or…
You start loading rounds and try to stop overthinking things.
Step 1: Go to the bar.
Clack. Round loaded.
Step 2: Strawberry sunrise, no ice, one of those little umbrellas.
Clack.
Step 3: Make chitchat.
Clack.
Step 4: Show him a picture of Raven.
Clack.
Step 5: If he knows stuff, get it from him. Step 5b: painfully, if need be.
Clack.
Step 6: If he doesn't, judge whether he's lying.
Clack.
Step 7: If he isn't, have your drink, pay, and leave.
Clack.
Step 8: If he is, see step 5b.
8 steps. 8 rounds.
"Come on, Firecracker, you can do this," you tell yourself, affecting Qrow's nickname in the hope it'll lend you some hitherto unforeseen confidence.
Take a deep breath, and walk in like you own the place-
Turquoise. It almost makes your clothes pop, and it dyes your skin teal, that deep greenish-blue light from a small alcove as you walk in the door, behind the coat check. You don't falter in your stride, but curiosity demands you take a look. So, you flick your eyes to the side, and-
Red. A great circle of it, so deeply red that you almost open fire at it, before your forebrain takes over.
It's… a sword. A giant, floating sword of red, blue, and hints of gold, made mostly of some glassy substance.
The whole thing flickers, dimming for a moment, then gently floats deeper into the alcove.
… You can't explain it, but you have the weirdest feeling that you were just shushed.
Push it down. Keep the stride going. Place your helmet on the counter and walk off, ignore the guy, he'll know damn well who it belongs to by the time you leave.
Junior's club is dark; panelled in matte black and white panels so white they glow under the UV lights, setting the dancefloor's clothes and skin alike aglow. Your skull thrums with the beat in the air, deep bass that pulses through the club like someone thumping your chest. Your heart syncs to it after a moment, and soon the rest of the body follows. You don't even particularly care for the song, but it's there, and it's in your bones now- infecting your movements. A head bob here, sway on the beat there, toe bounce, heel click, you've synced with the rhythm of a hundred bodies, and it lets you slip between them like water.
There, at the end of the room, above everyone else, a DJ in a massive cutesy bear mask guides the throng of people, reading the room perfectly. Well, assuming the room is full of sweaty Wire users. You sneak a glance at one of the dancers. He catches your eye, and sticks out his tongue, showing off the grey drug strip tied around it, gently foaming away.
Dotted around the place at regular intervals, men stand by, coats and trousers so black that they seem to absorb even the strobe lights on the dance floor. On their hips, you note large red hatchets, sharpened to a glimmer. Booths ring the room, away from the music and the light for people who need a break. Most are empty, but one near the bar holds two occupants- a blond boy in a raggedy Pumpkin Pete's hoodie and blue jeans, and Weiss Schnee.
Wait, what?
You blink, check again, and, no, yes, that is, Weiss Schnee, in Junior's, getting completely zooted on what looked like an irresponsible amount of vodka, with some random guy.
... Well, so long as they're having fun.
You approach the bar, pushing the intrepid pair out of your mind, and find the man of the hour behind it, a row of cocktails in front of him, and in the midst of absolutely going to town on a cocktail shaker.
His teeth are gritted with exertion, his movements not as smooth as they should be. Once he finishes, he fishes under the counter for something, before bringing up an ice-cold bottle of tonic water, popping the cap with his thumb, and pouring both into a tall glass.
The resulting mixture is thick, almost creamy, and he leaves it to settle for a moment before topping it with the rest of the shaker's contents- a foam so thick that it's almost solid. A knife and an orange come out, and a quarter wheel is chopped out with four perfect strokes and pressed into the rim of the glass.
He waves down a server and gestures to the drinks.
"Gin Fizz, Coffee Negroni, Sex On The Beach, White Atlesian, booth 12," he tells her, voice unlaboured despite the sweat beading his forehead.
The server takes it without a word, barely stopping in her stride to sweep the drinks onto a tray and carry them off.
Hei 'Junior' Xiong. Criminal mastermind of the Vale underworld. Easily in the top ten scariest men in the city. Allegedly connected to the deaths and disappearance of at least a dozen people.
Also, a great bartender. One of his employees approaches, and Junior hops over the bar, letting the man take his place.
"Vodka, on the rocks. Gimme the Niedermantal stuff," he tells the new bartender, and within seconds, two fingers of mushroom vodka are in a glass in front of him, chilled by an ice cube the size of Ruby's fist.
You approach the bar, fixing on an easy grin as you lean on it. His eyes flick over, giving you a general once-over, and finding something of interest. Surprisingly enough, it doesn't feel like a dirty look- it's more like he's sizing you up.
Bad. Bad bad bad. Being seen as a threat is the last thing you want right now.
You make your order. He asks if you're old enough to be in here. You feel an eye twitch, tell him he's too old to be called Junior.
Junior asks for your name. Something about his tone just ticks you off.
You tell him he can call you sir.
The conversation continues with the established power dynamic of you having his balls in a vice grip, he tells you he's never seen her before- sir, you make sure to insist on that part- and you realise that there's nothing for you here.
You have to admit to a certain… disappointment, honestly. Hei Xiong, Junior, whatever, second-biggest criminal in Vale, knows everyone and everything, yadda yadda yadda… can't help you.
With a quiet sigh, you let go and keep playing the ditz, just long enough to hopefully escape without all those hatchets ending up in your favourite jacket.
Then they start to circle, you come to terms with not leaving here without a fight.
Step 9: Bait Junior.
Step 10: Remove Junior as a threat.
Your fist slams into his chest with the kind of speed that would core someone who didn't have Aura- but, your method of establishing a power dynamic was useful for more than just making your hand smell like sweaty old man crotch.
Ugh, you suddenly wish you hadn't thought about that. Junior sails off like a shot, into the tower of shining white glass-
There's a crash from near the entrance, and that sword appears again. It moves to intercept, so fast that it's more just a blue streak in the air, before stopping dead, catching Junior before he hits the pillar.
Now, that's not to say it makes his landing any softer- it just stops him from hitting the tower. Junior slams into it like he's just hit a brick wall and slides off it like an egg out of a non-stick pan. He slams into the ground without so much as a bounce, staring dully into space. The glass sword flits away again, the confused/horrified gazes of Junior's goons following it to…
Oh, Weiss and her boyt- Weiss and her boytoy?!
The blond guy looks lazily over at the commotion, seems to spy imminent violence, and…
Grins.
It isn't, necessarily, a vicious grin, one that promises a level of bloodlust you don't want to deal with tonight, but the boy is certainly excited at the prospect of fighting Junior's goons. He turns to Weiss Schnee, and with all the casualness of someone who's been friends with her for years, begins to rapidly tap her on the forearm.
"Weisz. Weizs. Weis. Weiss! Weeeiiiisss!"
"Wwhaaat?" the heiress of the SDC and noted celebrity musical artist moans, turning to look at him with… playful anger? You can't describe it, not really- it's like she keeps trying to be annoyed with him, but gets undercut by her own giggle fits, and then the effort of keeping them down and staying mad just makes her giggle even more.
The boy turns, and with the same casual attitude, points at the gathered throng of goons and yourself.
"Fight. Wanna join?"
You and the goons watch this exchange with equal but mutually exclusive parts confusion and slowly mounting horror.
Weiss Schnee, again, you cannot stress this enough, the heir to the Schnee Dust Company and one of the most popular musicians of the past half-decade puts as much thought into this as you would put into giving up one of your kidneys for Ruby.
She's out of her seat in an instant, drink in hand. You watch, impressed as she takes what's left of a handle of vodka and drains it in a handful of gulps, then chucks the bottle against the booth she had just vacated. It lands with a quiet whump against the faux-leather seat.
"FUCK YEAH!" she squeals, eyes scrunched with the effort.
With that battlecry, the pair begin to saunter forward, surprisingly steady for two very heavy drinkers; then you recognise it. The way blondie's head is still up high, eyes clear of drink, quietly scanning the goons- he's a trained combatant. Not on the streets, at an actual combat school.
Wait. Blue sword. Blond hair. Do you- you can't spend long thinking about it, but you would swear you've met him before. The sword falls into step- can something do that when they don't have feet?- beside him, and the thugs seem significantly less enthused about fighting you. For a moment, you almost think you could sweet talk your way out of here, leaving the pair behind to clean up the mess.
Then the twins arrive.
"Melanie," one of them says dozily, "who are these people messing up the best spot in town?"
Her voice is high, with an annoying sort of uptick at the end of her sentence. She sounds like she's never had an unprompted thought in her life.
"I dunno, Miltia, but we should teach them a lesson."
"... But those two up there haven't done anything yet-"
"They're gonna."
The one in white- Melanie- is smart. She knows impending violence when she sees it, and so do you; you were never going to leave here peacefully. But hey- at least you have some backup.
"Hey! You two!" you call back, watching the pair just about switch focus to you, God they are blasted. "You take the goons, I'll take the twins?"
The boy answers by leaping over your head, planting his feet directly in the chest of one of the mooks, and crouching there, straddling his chest and grabbing him by the lapels.
"I just want you to know that I've had the kind of day where I really, really just need to fight somebody," he tells the poor guy underneath him. With a yell, blondie reels back and drags his quarry into a brutal headbutt, forehead to forehead.
Blondie wins. The goon lolls back, so dazed you can almost see the stars above his head. Blondie gets up with his arms spread out to the goons, just begging them to take a shot. It feels like throwing one of those big Mistrali bugs into a beehive, in some ways, but you're not going to look a gift hornet in the mouth. Instead, you leap forward, placing yourself between the twin girls and their goons, Ember Celica unfolding along your arms.
Can't let them have all the fun, after all.
|||
… See, the worst part about that story is that now that you've been told it outright, you… genuinely do remember headbutting a man into the floor.
That fucking hurt! What is wrong with you?!
{Turns out you have some latent anger issues. Who'd've thunk.}
Not you, that's for sure.
You also remember, uh, well, throwing grown men around like ragdolls. With your bare hands. Handfuls of cloth, pull, swing, Aura flares, off he goes, head twitch to the side to avoid an axe from behind- you did all that while you were drunk?
At the same time, all you can think of is, what was Weiss like during that?
{Honestly, she wasn't much more sophisticated than you; she just didn't have the muscle mass or the bloodlust to pull it off. She owes me for wiping the camera and Scroll footage of the event.}
Yang notices your face and laughs.
"Yeah, you know, I figured that was kinda how you would react after I met you for the first time. I genuinely couldn't believe you were the same person, at first, before I saw…"
Her eyes flick to the Transistor, and her smile shrinks by a fraction.
"... Well… Yeah," Yang says, looking away. After a moment, she sits up, drawing one knee up to her chest "Hey, uh… can I… ask you a question?"
It sounds weird, to hear Yang of all people hesitate to just come out with something.
"Sure, what is it?"
"Is your sword… alive?"
… O-kay, list of possible questions you were just about to be asked- wow, number 7? That high?
{I figured it was going to come up sooner or later.}
"I'm… going to need to know what prompted that, before I can answer it," you tell her after a moment.
"Um, I guess it started during Initiation? First, your sword was all, orange, and obviously broken, and I'd heard it screaming on the platform, but even beyond that it felt… wrong? It felt like…"
Yang stops, scrunching her face in confusion as she thinks it over, reaching for words that can't quite cover what she's trying to say.
"Like it was dead?"
"No! I- yes? Maybe? It didn't… it's like, the difference between a hotel room, and your own room, I guess? It felt… hollow. Like there was some… kind of warmth, missing from it, some, lived-in kinda deal- am I making sense?"
She might not entirely believe it, but yes, you're starting to grasp what she means.
"I think so. When the Transistor is properly connected to me, it regulates my Semblance- which, relies on a direct connection to my soul. In a way, it's… kind of an extension of me."
Yang looks down, something obviously troubling her.
"I heard it talking in the forest, Jaune." she mumbles.
You know, you distinctly remember that too. Welp, cat has escaped bag, Blue, make your introductions.
"{You did.}"
Yang tenses, looking up at your sword with something like naked fear.
"Oh God, I didn't hallucinate it."
"{You didn't. Hello, Yang, I'm Blue, and if you ever talk to the Transistor again, it's most likely going to be me you talk to. It's, nice to meet you properly.}"
It's awkward, it's stilted, but dammit your boy is trying and you are proud of him for it.
"U-um… so… what… are you?" Yang ventures, still very unsure how to take the realisation that the talking sword is real.
"{In a general sense, I'm an artificial intelligence. In a specific sense, I'm a coding fork designed to fulfil a specific purpose being run by a larger, general artificial intelligence. It's more efficient that way, rather than trying to have one overall process run the whole shop.}"
Yang kinda blanked after the word 'fork,' and you honestly can't blame her.
"I-I mean, um, that's cool, and all, but like… you're an… intelligent, thing? That's… not alive."
"{... We… don't know about that, just yet.}"
"... You don't know whether or not you're alive? I mean, you think, you obviously communicate, so… do you feel?"
"{Is that your criteria for something being alive? Feeling?}"
Yang shrugs.
"I mean, Grimm don't generally feel. They don't have souls. Ergo, something without a soul can't feel."
"We're, investigating the matter of whether or not the Transistor can become, alive, in a traditional sense," you interject. "But it's not something we've had much time to work on."
Read: Less than 48 full hours.
Yang stops, thinking for a moment. To her credit, for someone who, thirty seconds ago, was entirely lost midway through Blue's explanation, and has just been presented with a unique philosophical problem, has more than a fair few gears grinding away in her head.
A minute or so passes in quiet silence, Yang snapping a hand up to shush you when you ask her what's on her mind, before she comes to some conclusion.
"... So… you manage Jaune's Semblance, right?"
"{Correct.}"
"Well, right now, I look at you, and I feel… Jaune. You give off the same, feel as him. I think that's to do with the fact that you're managing his Semblance. When you weren't, I assume you weren't, that's why Jaune collapsed in the middle of the forest with a massive nosebleed, you felt… wrong."
"{... I was severely damaged at the time,"} Blue says, hesitating for the slightest of moments. His tone is thoughtful, slowly comprehending what Yang is saying.
"Exactly! But- did you feel wrong because you were damaged, or because you were disconnected? I couldn't really tell at the time, I, uh, had slightly bigger problems on my mind. But, here, in a more controlled environment…"
Ah. She wants the Transistor to disconnect from you.
"{Absolutely not. I'm not putting Jaune in danger to sate our philosophical curiosity.}"
Yang blinks, surprised at being shut down so quickly.
"Blue, chill. What he means to say," you quickly interject, "is that it's only been a couple of days since I had a major brain bleed. I'd… rather take it easy for a while, at least until that heals."
Yang nods, taking that point in stride.
"Okay, fair. But, you know, once that heals, if you are ready to give that a try… tell me, 'kay? You've got me curious, now."
Yang Xiao Long is now invested in the philosophical question of the Transistor's ability to form a soul. Once your brain stops looking like roughly-chopped tofu, she'll be available to help with your studies.
|||
The rest of your evening goes swimmingly. You chat with Yang for a while, at least until Ruby and Blake come back. There's a truly amazing moment of awkwardness where Yang seems to pick up on something between you and Blake, and shoots you one of those little grins filled with an entire Mantle classic's worth of implications.
You very rapidly make your escape and slip back into your room. Everyone is there, on their beds, though Ada appears to be sleeping, or at least not paying attention- headphones in, eyes closed, entirely separate from the waking world.
The ever-so-slight flicker doesn't escape your notice, mind.
"Oh, hey Jaune," Creme says, on her bed, mindlessly scrolling through her newsfeed. "Where've you been?"
"Uh, busy. Personal project, mainly."
{Pft. Mainly.}
Quiet, you.
"Yeah? Wanna share?" Lumen says, halfway through creating a miniature figure of… it almost looks like a windsail had a child with a trimaran. At his side, Alabaster stares intently, watching the figure as Lumen constructs it from various forms of luxin.
"Y… maybe, later. It's kinda hard to explain, right now."
Hilariously, almost as if they didn't just hear you say you couldn't explain it, the pair perk up, looking at you.
"Jaune…" Creme says, her voice light, but tired. "You know you don't have to protect us, right? We're pretty sure whatever it is you're doing can't be worse than what you told us earlier today."
"N-no, I mean it's actually difficult to explain. I don't really know what it is I'm looking for, just yet."
"Uh… huh," Creme says, unconvinced.
"{We're trying to figure out whether or not the Transistor can form a soul.}"
"... Uh huh," Creme says, convinced.
"Uh… can't, help but notice that you referred to yourself in the third person there," Lumen pipes up, his model left to the side. Alabaster continues to analyse it for something.
"Mm… Still not convinced about that many gears localised to the arm sequences. Would offset some to the legs."
"Wh- no, screw that, I want to be able to walk when I get back to dry land," Lumen says.
"I would like your biceps to still be attached to the bone by the time you get back to dry land. Mm… larger sail? Less strain on muscles, though more reliant on optimal wind conditions."
"What… are you doing?" you ask Lumen, as he starts to modify his minifigure.
"I, am creating… a blueprint. If I get it just right, I'll be able to get us back into the city, for free, whenever we want, instead of bumming a ride on the airships. I call it a sea skimmer, and you should all be thanking me for bothering to design it to carry passengers."
Jaune, I cannot stress how much you would not want to get onto that thing.
Does it go fast?
Under even slightly suboptimal conditions, that thing has a concerning chance of achieving man-powered flight.
You gently ping Alabaster and ask if that was part of the plan.
Unit-admin wanted to focus on speed; he trusts his skills to monitor stability. Process came to decision that method of speed was inconsequential. Do not be worried- we have accounted for the landing procedures.
A blueprint pops up in the side of your vision, and you realise that the entire thing would weigh next to nothing, and more importantly, is designed to skim across the water anyway. So long as Lumen can keep the nose above the water, which the entire vessel is weighted towards, it'll be perfectly safe, but for Grimm, and other vessels.
Just, terrifyingly fast, and occasionally achieving flight.
… And yet. And. Yet.
You can't stop yourself from wanting to try it.
Lumen looks at you and snorts, a lopsided smile creeping up his face.
"Easy, tiger, it won't be ready for at least another couple of weeks. Alabaster here's taking a lot of the trial and error out of it, sure, but I won't know what the final design is until I test it full-scale."
"So…" Creme interjects, "the Transistor forming a soul?"
Ah, dangit you thought you'd weaselled your way out of that one-
"Is, apparently, a… possibility? I- really don't have much to go on. Just two books from the library, so far, so…"
You shrug helplessly. You really wish people would stop prying into this, at least until you can give them something to chew on besides 'I don't know, I literally only started researching this yesterday.'
"Huh. Well, that's neat," Creme says. "Tell me how you get on?"
"Uh, will do."
With that, Creme goes back to reading, Lumen keeps tinkering away with his model ship, and you're left to your own devices.
|||
The night is upon you. You know you shouldn't be awake at this hour, because you didn't get much sleep last night either- nobody did.
But you're awake anyway. The sky is clear, the moon high and slowly piecing itself back together again. The night outside is grey- threatening to lighten, even though you know it's far too early to.
... Is it?
You check the time. 1 am. Far too early, yes, but you should have been asleep hours ago.
You haven't said this since you were about seven, and it shocks you that you're saying it now, but… you're afraid to go to sleep in case the monsters get you. You know, you know, that it's an irrational thought- if only your teammates weren't proving you right. Even now, about an hour after they went to sleep, you can hear their uncertain shuffling and mumbling, restlessly tossing and turning in their slumber. Lumen takes a deep, shaky breath, sweat beading his brow. Creme whimpers something under hers.
Ada, thankfully, is out like a stone. She has enough baggage to deal with, without adding Witch-Queen dreams into the mix.
{I think you need something to take your mind off this.}
Sure, Miss Maple, what?
Process is ready to begin independent research!
… Okay… and what does that entail?
{It entails, Jaune, the Process finally starting a major step towards becoming the solution to the very thing you're refusing to sleep over.}
We have finally created enough computational matter to begin work at a rate considered acceptable for research and development of new units, long-term goal solution planning, theoretical physics testing, and new methods of using the Process!
What does the Process even consider 'enough computational matter to begin work at a rate considered acceptable?'
{The Transistor. At roughly an order of magnitude higher.}
Good lord. Your baby boy's grown beefy.
Alright- what do we have here?
Since the Process's computational mass is now measured in dozens of kilometres volumetrically, you start with significantly more research points than you otherwise would.
You currently have 21 research points. Progress through a clock remains until it is completed, so you don't need to worry about stockpiling points- spend them as you will.
[] Remnant Factoid: The Process takes up a space entirely unknown to humanity, and has access to probing equipment entirely unthought of by humanity. Maybe it would be interesting to let them research the planet itself a little. (This just creates a bunch of factoids about Remnant and its local system. These may or may not be useful in the future. They will almost always be somewhat interesting.)
-Current Clock: 0/3
--Next Advancement: A Remnant Factoid
[] General Utility: it takes you a moment to realise what this option truly entails, but you recognise some of the designs; water purifiers, solar cells, even a vertical farm that could feed a small village, the size of a water tower. Utopia is the click of a button away. (These designs can be used to boost company income, or given away to increase your reputation.)
-Current Clock: 0/6
--Next Advancement: Pocket Water Purifier
[] Grimm Research: The Process is, ironically, close enough to the surface that you can probably afford to send out a few probes (read: about a dozen Creeps) to find Grimm to gather information on (read: violently kill in various ways). (This clock can be used to gather Grimm documents outside of your own Downtime, which can be used to learn about various Grimm, and get learned to make them more deader.)
-Current Clock: 0/9
--Next Advancement: One Grimm Document
[] Process Advancement: Your head swims with more core designs for Process units. You don't think you can customise them just yet, you need a... larger foundation to work with before you can start going a little freeform jazz with it. (This will unlock more baseline Process units, and eventually, the ability to customise and create your own.)
-Current Clock: 0/12
--Next Advancement: Unlock the Jerk unit.
Unique Clocks:
Unique clocks are cheap, one-time offers that are often related to more current events in the Process's memory. They often only achieve minor benefits or help Jaune achieve something slightly faster than he otherwise would. If they are not filled up on the turn they appear on, they are gone forever.
[] HIT THE BOOKS: come on- you have a massive, computational AI, with access to the entirety of human knowledge (once you have the Transistor blacklist some of the less family-friendly websites), and a question. It's almost kind of wasteful to use them like this but come on, this is going to take forever otherwise.
-Current Clock: 0/3
--Reward: +3 to both ??? and ???
Last edited:
[X] Remnant Factoid: 3 Points
[X] General Utility: 6 Points
[X] Process Advancement: 12 Points
Seems like a decent combination, still helping the Process grow as a person/hivemind after all so can get started with some simple basics.
Learning new stuff, coming up with things to help people and a little bit of self improvement. Can move on to going hard on the Grimm after they've had more time to develop.
[X] General Utility: 6 Points
[X] Process Advancement: 12 Points
Seems like a decent combination, still helping the Process grow as a person/hivemind after all so can get started with some simple basics.
Learning new stuff, coming up with things to help people and a little bit of self improvement. Can move on to going hard on the Grimm after they've had more time to develop.
- Location
- Who Knows Where
[X] Remnant Factoid 3/3
[X] General Utility 6/6
[X] HIT THE BOOKS 3/3
[X] Process Advancement 9/12
Favoring this right now.
Get that one-time offered unique clock, a point of interest, something widely helpful, and make solid progress toward custom Process units.
I know it happened a while ago in-story, but my day is still vastly improved for having read about Blondie and one of Remnant's top musical artists paying homage to the 1978 classic, Drunken Master.
[X] General Utility 6/6
[X] HIT THE BOOKS 3/3
[X] Process Advancement 9/12
Favoring this right now.
Get that one-time offered unique clock, a point of interest, something widely helpful, and make solid progress toward custom Process units.
Somewhere, another alcoholic Huntsman sneezes.
I know it happened a while ago in-story, but my day is still vastly improved for having read about Blondie and one of Remnant's top musical artists paying homage to the 1978 classic, Drunken Master.
Last edited:
Do we need to worry about how our research topics will affect the Process's growth and personal development? Like in terms of things like "Well spending its second week since birth mainlining research on the Grimm traumatized the fuck out of the baby god"
assana73
Meatbun!
- Location
- Personal Dimension
[X] HIT THE BOOKS: 3 points
[X] General Utility: 6 Points
[X] Process Advancement: 12 Points
Might as well speed up the soul research when we can. It only shows up for this turn.
Utility is just good all around, and the process getting better at forming more complex bodies is also very good.
[X] General Utility: 6 Points
[X] Process Advancement: 12 Points
Might as well speed up the soul research when we can. It only shows up for this turn.
Utility is just good all around, and the process getting better at forming more complex bodies is also very good.