Yes, another one.
Advent 1.1
When you wake up with a pounding headache, no idea where you...
Advent 1.1
When you wake up with a pounding headache, no idea where you...
My Kingdom Come (DC/Lantern SI)
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Advent 1.1
Yes, another one.
Advent 1.1
When you wake up with a pounding headache, no idea where you are, how much time has elapsed, and a ring on your finger, the obvious answer is usually to blame tequila. But this is no shotgun wedding. For one thing, I'm currently sitting at the bottom of a small crater in the middle of a jungle as opposed to sprawled out in a dingy motel room. For another, there are no scantily clad women or alcoholic beverages (the telltale signs of bad decision-making) present. My only company is some sort of large bird. Looks tropical, but fuck if I know anything beyond that. I'm not an ornithologist. Also, my head is killing me, badly enough that it bears repeating. It feels like there's something... missing. Ugh.
But all that is irrelevant, compared to the ring on my finger. An orange power ring, to be specific. On my finger. I've been staring at it for the past minute; afraid that if I talk to it, if I accept this wildly improbable situation, it'll hurt that much more when the whole scenario goes up in a puff of smoke. I've tried pinching myself, closing my eyes and counting to ten, all the usual methods of waking oneself up. I'm not exactly a novice when it comes to my neurochemistry screwing me over, but hallucinations would be new. Don't think they're supposed to be this vivid, either. I can probably rule out psychotropic drugs since I have a) no access to acid or LSD or whatever would cause this and b) the trees aren't trying to eat me.
So, proceeding under the assumption that this is actually happening, what next? Talking to the ring seems to be a good place to start.
"Hello?" I greet it tentatively.
"User acknowledged."
Which I guess is ring-speak for hello. The ring's voice is pleasantly female and not robotic in the slightest, which I did not expect.
"Nice to meet you?"
"This ring exists to actualize the user's desires. For certain definitions of the word, that qualifies as nice."
And I am now making awkward small talk with a power ring. Let's just head this particular bit of social ineptitude off at the pass, shall we? Better question, "Where the hell am I?"
"'Hell' is a noetic subdimension referenced in religious literature and popular culture by the denizens of this planet. User is in Peru, not hell, though the confusion is understandable."
That right there was unmistakably sarcasm. Did I just get sassed by my ring? Seems like it. That is apparently a thing that happens here. Speaking of 'here', what do I know about Peru? It's... a Spanish-speaking South American country that contains Machu Picchu? I only know that much because I did a book report on the place in the fourth grade. And, apparently, they have really beautiful forests. Seriously, there's this fog rolling in and when it meets the rising sun and the leaves... wow.
"Pretty."
"This ring is unable to render subjective judgments regarding qualia, though it does attempt to accomodate the user's perceptions wherever possible," it replies unexpectedly. "In other words, 'if you say so.'"
"Why do you do... that? Make jokes, use that voice?" I ask, laughing despite myself. Honestly, it feels like a tribe of rabbits is breeding in my frontal lobe.
"Assuming energy expenditure is within an acceptable range of standard deviation, this ring attempts to customize itself to promote avarice in the user. This ring exists to actualize the user's desires; the more desires the user has, the better that directive can be fulfilled."
"You want me to want you, basically."
"A not entirely inaccurate assessment."
I suppose it makes sense for orange rings to do that. Should just be thankful I didn't get nabbed by one of Atrocitus' superweapons, recruited into a genocidal crusade to avenge his fallen Sector. I mean, fuck the Guardians, stick it to the Man and all that, but I'd really prefer to remain myself. The ring passively tailoring the way it presents itself to my desires is preferable to being turned into an incoherent rage-monster or emotionally eviscerated until I can't feel anything but compassion. I mean, even if I got a version that didn't overwrite me, I'd still have to deal with the ring attempting to nag me into being a better person or deliberately pissing me off, which... basically amounts to the same thing. This is a bit unnerving, but on the sliding scale of cool vs. creepy, it definitely falls under cool.
First things first. My knowledge of the DC multiverse is patchwork at best. I'm good for broad strokes stuff: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Clark Kent is Superman, and so on and so forth. But the street level heroes? The minutiae, the gritty details? Fuck if I know. There are so many iterations of Earth in DC that it isn't even funny. I'll be flying blind. Literally flying, too. That's a thing I can do now. I can just - fly. Or make fire, or scan someone on the far side of the world.
Speaking of which, there're some things I need to confirm, like what year it is.
"2011, by the Gregorian calendar."
I appear to have traveled back in time. It's a testament to how interesting this day is shaping up to be that this revelation doesn't merit further commentary. For now, next item. Have to know for sure whether I'm actually in DC, and not just back home, mysteriously in possession of a power ring. Besides, it would be embarrassing to get blindsided by Thor or something.
"Ring, locate Superman."
"Kryptonian designated as 'Superman' is currently performing disaster relief in Florida." Well, that confirms that.
"Access the internet, search for references to Green Lantern," I order it. Superman existing is nice to know, but I could just be in the Snyder movie-verse.
"Numerous references pertaining to four separate individuals designated 'Green Lantern' exist. If the user cared to be more specific, this ring would be able to provide more accurate information."
I ignore the ring momentarily. It's official. I'm in a world with superheroes. I'll have to find out the specifics of who exists here later, but this is... incredibly cool. I wonder if narrative physics is in play? I can't assume this universe works the same way as my former one. If I go and use my new-found phenomenal cosmic power to splatter the Joker across three states, is he automatically going to revive and wreak horrible vengeance simply because fuck you, you can't just shoot the Joker?
I'm not sure which possibility scares me more, the idea that I might be dancing on the strings of some invisible puppeteer, unable to chart my own course through the world... or the fact that this terrifying and glorious pastiche of mad science, interdimensional invasions, and wizardry fits together in a holistic and logical way, meaning there are massive swathes of the world which will be completely alien to me. Also, literal aliens.
Probably the first, though there's one possibility that's more worrisome still: the orange light is supposed to drive people mad.
Technically speaking, it's more of a certainty. I... can't remember any sane Orange Lanterns. Not a single one. I think Lex Luthor got an orange ring in one issue or another, and it took a grand total of, like, five minutes for him to go completely off the reservation. And then there's Larfleeze, the archetypal Orange Lantern, who is essentially space-Gollum. Am I going to end up like that? I don't... feel that different? I mean, in one sense I do; I'm positively exultant, filled with trepidation and terror, joy and wonder all mixing to together to form a heady emotional cocktail, with the nagging sense of almost-déjà vu and migraine as the cherries on top. Not really feeling the urge to go loot a museum or three and go squat in a cave atop a pile of my ill-gotten gains, though.
There's one way to test for sure. I take a deep breath, and consider taking off the ring.
It doesn't seem like such a good idea, honestly. I'm stuck in the highlands of a country I've never visited, where the predominant language is one I speak only fragments of. What if I drop it and can't find it again? Am I going to walk to the nearest village and pay for a ride out of here? Assuming I don't die alone in the wilderness en route, with what money? Really, removing it even momentarily just seems like a terrible idea.
And that's just mundane stuff! I'm in the DC universe; it's not like Superman couldn't fly in and give me a heat-vision lobotomy before I can possibly react. A meteor could drop out of the sky! I could be randomly kidnapped by ineffable cosmic forces and thrown into another dimension, depriving me of the ring. That last scenario is scarily plausible. Lightning may never strike twice, but serial cosmic abductors are bound by no such restrictions. Come to think of it, isn't the whole 'lightning never strikes twice' thing a myth? Curse you, Mythbusters, for robbing me of my aphorisms. Point being, I need my ring. It is mine, isn't it? Of course it is. It's on my finger, therefore it's my ring. QED.
Wait. Shit, no. Stop. That's the Orange Light talking. Protecting the sanctity of my mind and wishes is central to my desires. I need to remain myself. Therefore, to fulfill my desires I have to take off the tool lets me manifest them. A catch-22, but the alternative is going full Gollum, and fuck that noise. You never go full Gollum. I mean, a little Gollum is fine, because who doesn't want to keep what belongs to-
Orange. Light. Talking. I very deliberately remove the ring and set it down on the ground in front of me. Suddenly, it's very humid and I become acutely conscious of the fact that I'm in a rain forest. There are bugs, and they think I am delicious.
I breathe a sigh of satisfaction. I can do this. I will do this. I own this ring; it does not own me. Point proven, I reach out and recover it, slipping the ring back on my finger.
Life is good; I'm in a universe filled with wonders and wearing one of them on my finger. Admittedly, it's a wonder that refers to itself in the third person and sounds like it's trying to seduce me and steal my credit card information (not that it would mean anything here), but still. I feel prepared, between it and my... comic book knowledge? I think I actually learned more from the various animated series than I did from the comics, and then there are the movies to consider. Fuck it, let's call it archival data. Nice, blanket term that won't automatically trip any red flags if a telepath is flipping through the phone-book of my thoughts.
"Ring, create a heading called 'Archival Data' to store extra-dimensional information under." I need to get as much of my limited meta-knowledge as I can down before I start to cross-contaminate it with information from this world or forget things. Then it'll be time to start thinking about heading back to civilization, because no matter how nice this place is, I'm getting a little tired of squatting in a crater.
"Category labeled 'Archival Data' already exists."
What.
"Explain."
"Category was created by the user." Is it just me, or does it sound vaguely reproachful? I don't think the ring AIs are truly sentient, despite this one's affectations, so I'm probably projecting. Anyway, that's not important right now.
"State charge level," I order it, apprehension slowly building. Perhaps it's just a case of the ring reacting to a mental command before I stated it aloud.
"Charge level is currently thirty-eight percent."
I am, in the immortal words of Han Solo, getting a bad feeling about this. Now, for the moment of truth.
"...just how long have I had this ring?"
"This ring has been the user's possession for four hours, twenty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds."
The bottom drops out of my stomach.
"Not counting time spent unconscious?" I ask, vainly hoping I don't receive the answer I expect.
"User has been awake for eighty-four percent of that time."
What happened to my fucking memories?
---
The irony inherent in the first line is that tequila actually is to blame for this. Just... not in the way that iteration of me is thinking of. Anyway, drinks, writer's block on my original stuff, and With This Ring moving to Sufficient Velocity all sort of conspired to produce My Kingdom Come. I debated using a green ring, solely for the 'My Will Be Done' pun, but ultimately I think I'm more of a blue or orange type of guy. Happy New Year, ladies and gentlemen.
Advent 1.1
When you wake up with a pounding headache, no idea where you are, how much time has elapsed, and a ring on your finger, the obvious answer is usually to blame tequila. But this is no shotgun wedding. For one thing, I'm currently sitting at the bottom of a small crater in the middle of a jungle as opposed to sprawled out in a dingy motel room. For another, there are no scantily clad women or alcoholic beverages (the telltale signs of bad decision-making) present. My only company is some sort of large bird. Looks tropical, but fuck if I know anything beyond that. I'm not an ornithologist. Also, my head is killing me, badly enough that it bears repeating. It feels like there's something... missing. Ugh.
But all that is irrelevant, compared to the ring on my finger. An orange power ring, to be specific. On my finger. I've been staring at it for the past minute; afraid that if I talk to it, if I accept this wildly improbable situation, it'll hurt that much more when the whole scenario goes up in a puff of smoke. I've tried pinching myself, closing my eyes and counting to ten, all the usual methods of waking oneself up. I'm not exactly a novice when it comes to my neurochemistry screwing me over, but hallucinations would be new. Don't think they're supposed to be this vivid, either. I can probably rule out psychotropic drugs since I have a) no access to acid or LSD or whatever would cause this and b) the trees aren't trying to eat me.
So, proceeding under the assumption that this is actually happening, what next? Talking to the ring seems to be a good place to start.
"Hello?" I greet it tentatively.
"User acknowledged."
Which I guess is ring-speak for hello. The ring's voice is pleasantly female and not robotic in the slightest, which I did not expect.
"Nice to meet you?"
"This ring exists to actualize the user's desires. For certain definitions of the word, that qualifies as nice."
And I am now making awkward small talk with a power ring. Let's just head this particular bit of social ineptitude off at the pass, shall we? Better question, "Where the hell am I?"
"'Hell' is a noetic subdimension referenced in religious literature and popular culture by the denizens of this planet. User is in Peru, not hell, though the confusion is understandable."
That right there was unmistakably sarcasm. Did I just get sassed by my ring? Seems like it. That is apparently a thing that happens here. Speaking of 'here', what do I know about Peru? It's... a Spanish-speaking South American country that contains Machu Picchu? I only know that much because I did a book report on the place in the fourth grade. And, apparently, they have really beautiful forests. Seriously, there's this fog rolling in and when it meets the rising sun and the leaves... wow.
"Pretty."
"This ring is unable to render subjective judgments regarding qualia, though it does attempt to accomodate the user's perceptions wherever possible," it replies unexpectedly. "In other words, 'if you say so.'"
"Why do you do... that? Make jokes, use that voice?" I ask, laughing despite myself. Honestly, it feels like a tribe of rabbits is breeding in my frontal lobe.
"Assuming energy expenditure is within an acceptable range of standard deviation, this ring attempts to customize itself to promote avarice in the user. This ring exists to actualize the user's desires; the more desires the user has, the better that directive can be fulfilled."
"You want me to want you, basically."
"A not entirely inaccurate assessment."
I suppose it makes sense for orange rings to do that. Should just be thankful I didn't get nabbed by one of Atrocitus' superweapons, recruited into a genocidal crusade to avenge his fallen Sector. I mean, fuck the Guardians, stick it to the Man and all that, but I'd really prefer to remain myself. The ring passively tailoring the way it presents itself to my desires is preferable to being turned into an incoherent rage-monster or emotionally eviscerated until I can't feel anything but compassion. I mean, even if I got a version that didn't overwrite me, I'd still have to deal with the ring attempting to nag me into being a better person or deliberately pissing me off, which... basically amounts to the same thing. This is a bit unnerving, but on the sliding scale of cool vs. creepy, it definitely falls under cool.
First things first. My knowledge of the DC multiverse is patchwork at best. I'm good for broad strokes stuff: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Clark Kent is Superman, and so on and so forth. But the street level heroes? The minutiae, the gritty details? Fuck if I know. There are so many iterations of Earth in DC that it isn't even funny. I'll be flying blind. Literally flying, too. That's a thing I can do now. I can just - fly. Or make fire, or scan someone on the far side of the world.
Speaking of which, there're some things I need to confirm, like what year it is.
"2011, by the Gregorian calendar."
I appear to have traveled back in time. It's a testament to how interesting this day is shaping up to be that this revelation doesn't merit further commentary. For now, next item. Have to know for sure whether I'm actually in DC, and not just back home, mysteriously in possession of a power ring. Besides, it would be embarrassing to get blindsided by Thor or something.
"Ring, locate Superman."
"Kryptonian designated as 'Superman' is currently performing disaster relief in Florida." Well, that confirms that.
"Access the internet, search for references to Green Lantern," I order it. Superman existing is nice to know, but I could just be in the Snyder movie-verse.
"Numerous references pertaining to four separate individuals designated 'Green Lantern' exist. If the user cared to be more specific, this ring would be able to provide more accurate information."
I ignore the ring momentarily. It's official. I'm in a world with superheroes. I'll have to find out the specifics of who exists here later, but this is... incredibly cool. I wonder if narrative physics is in play? I can't assume this universe works the same way as my former one. If I go and use my new-found phenomenal cosmic power to splatter the Joker across three states, is he automatically going to revive and wreak horrible vengeance simply because fuck you, you can't just shoot the Joker?
I'm not sure which possibility scares me more, the idea that I might be dancing on the strings of some invisible puppeteer, unable to chart my own course through the world... or the fact that this terrifying and glorious pastiche of mad science, interdimensional invasions, and wizardry fits together in a holistic and logical way, meaning there are massive swathes of the world which will be completely alien to me. Also, literal aliens.
Probably the first, though there's one possibility that's more worrisome still: the orange light is supposed to drive people mad.
Technically speaking, it's more of a certainty. I... can't remember any sane Orange Lanterns. Not a single one. I think Lex Luthor got an orange ring in one issue or another, and it took a grand total of, like, five minutes for him to go completely off the reservation. And then there's Larfleeze, the archetypal Orange Lantern, who is essentially space-Gollum. Am I going to end up like that? I don't... feel that different? I mean, in one sense I do; I'm positively exultant, filled with trepidation and terror, joy and wonder all mixing to together to form a heady emotional cocktail, with the nagging sense of almost-déjà vu and migraine as the cherries on top. Not really feeling the urge to go loot a museum or three and go squat in a cave atop a pile of my ill-gotten gains, though.
There's one way to test for sure. I take a deep breath, and consider taking off the ring.
It doesn't seem like such a good idea, honestly. I'm stuck in the highlands of a country I've never visited, where the predominant language is one I speak only fragments of. What if I drop it and can't find it again? Am I going to walk to the nearest village and pay for a ride out of here? Assuming I don't die alone in the wilderness en route, with what money? Really, removing it even momentarily just seems like a terrible idea.
And that's just mundane stuff! I'm in the DC universe; it's not like Superman couldn't fly in and give me a heat-vision lobotomy before I can possibly react. A meteor could drop out of the sky! I could be randomly kidnapped by ineffable cosmic forces and thrown into another dimension, depriving me of the ring. That last scenario is scarily plausible. Lightning may never strike twice, but serial cosmic abductors are bound by no such restrictions. Come to think of it, isn't the whole 'lightning never strikes twice' thing a myth? Curse you, Mythbusters, for robbing me of my aphorisms. Point being, I need my ring. It is mine, isn't it? Of course it is. It's on my finger, therefore it's my ring. QED.
Wait. Shit, no. Stop. That's the Orange Light talking. Protecting the sanctity of my mind and wishes is central to my desires. I need to remain myself. Therefore, to fulfill my desires I have to take off the tool lets me manifest them. A catch-22, but the alternative is going full Gollum, and fuck that noise. You never go full Gollum. I mean, a little Gollum is fine, because who doesn't want to keep what belongs to-
Orange. Light. Talking. I very deliberately remove the ring and set it down on the ground in front of me. Suddenly, it's very humid and I become acutely conscious of the fact that I'm in a rain forest. There are bugs, and they think I am delicious.
I breathe a sigh of satisfaction. I can do this. I will do this. I own this ring; it does not own me. Point proven, I reach out and recover it, slipping the ring back on my finger.
Life is good; I'm in a universe filled with wonders and wearing one of them on my finger. Admittedly, it's a wonder that refers to itself in the third person and sounds like it's trying to seduce me and steal my credit card information (not that it would mean anything here), but still. I feel prepared, between it and my... comic book knowledge? I think I actually learned more from the various animated series than I did from the comics, and then there are the movies to consider. Fuck it, let's call it archival data. Nice, blanket term that won't automatically trip any red flags if a telepath is flipping through the phone-book of my thoughts.
"Ring, create a heading called 'Archival Data' to store extra-dimensional information under." I need to get as much of my limited meta-knowledge as I can down before I start to cross-contaminate it with information from this world or forget things. Then it'll be time to start thinking about heading back to civilization, because no matter how nice this place is, I'm getting a little tired of squatting in a crater.
"Category labeled 'Archival Data' already exists."
What.
"Explain."
"Category was created by the user." Is it just me, or does it sound vaguely reproachful? I don't think the ring AIs are truly sentient, despite this one's affectations, so I'm probably projecting. Anyway, that's not important right now.
"State charge level," I order it, apprehension slowly building. Perhaps it's just a case of the ring reacting to a mental command before I stated it aloud.
"Charge level is currently thirty-eight percent."
I am, in the immortal words of Han Solo, getting a bad feeling about this. Now, for the moment of truth.
"...just how long have I had this ring?"
"This ring has been the user's possession for four hours, twenty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds."
The bottom drops out of my stomach.
"Not counting time spent unconscious?" I ask, vainly hoping I don't receive the answer I expect.
"User has been awake for eighty-four percent of that time."
What happened to my fucking memories?
---
The irony inherent in the first line is that tequila actually is to blame for this. Just... not in the way that iteration of me is thinking of. Anyway, drinks, writer's block on my original stuff, and With This Ring moving to Sufficient Velocity all sort of conspired to produce My Kingdom Come. I debated using a green ring, solely for the 'My Will Be Done' pun, but ultimately I think I'm more of a blue or orange type of guy. Happy New Year, ladies and gentlemen.
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So are you gonna go the whole ruler of your own territory or something else.
Well, currently the SI's ambitions revolve around discovering more about the world, securing a source of power (thirty-eight percent can go down the drain really quickly), and figuring out what happened to his fucking memories. The title does hint at where he may wind up down the road, but I don't want to spoil anything specific.
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- Location
- Canada
Ahhhh I se what you did there.
First off, Peru isn't that bad taken on it's own, it's not great, I certainly wouldn't choose to be there, but there are worse places to end up.
Second, the ring is a smartass to be sure, which fits the "want you to want me" thing, but at least it isn't Satan-Ring.
Deleted memories... perhaps his arrival in the DC universe wasn't quite that smooth? Could be he appeared somewhere off-world (or just in a different part of the world) and was attacked there, then fled to a randomly chosen safe spot on Earth.
That is one possible explanation, yes. There are a number of things that could lead to waking up with amnesia in a crater, none of them particularly pleasant. I will say that it wasn't a Random Omnipotent Being that's responsible for the lost memories.
Seconded.