#CollidRune

[kscs-the-radiostar]

:Signal Standing By:

[inportant-spam-rsvp]

CollidRune

Yeah, yeah, there's more.

This world has kingdom-wide mutations, deemed "updates", that change either the roles (base code) or appearance of its denizens. And so, i have deliberated a genetic code history of Addisons

Gen0: The Addison

Indistinguishable offwhite posing mannequins of simple life, only meant as programs providing a service or couriers of goods from Darkner Networks (or Lightners on very rare occasions and opportunities)

Generation 0 aren't complex programs, but they are well knit communities of friend clans and "clone families." Families are considered a string of similar code, making their cosmetic appearances "clones."

Gen1: Copy/Paste Addison

A new design with ball joints, softer bodies, and colors (pastel tints) carrying the same task in life as the originals

Generation 1 is the more shaped model of Addison, adding the variations of hair and color to the uniform look. They're generally small programs and plentiful. They've survived 2 updates, creating the Patch and Ink mutations in Update 1.1 and the Restore and Patina mutations in 1.2.

Gen2: Plastic Addison

The "perfected" addison model, with all the best aspects of Generation 1's updates, growing taller, sleeker, more visually appealing with a chassis over their jaw and joint pieces

Generation 2 appeared after update 1.2, during the worst of times, the Queen's Accident and Overthrow, when everything was rebounding and slowly rebuilding. They have 1 update and a patch mistake, producing one really messed up addison. Don't worry, they're fine. Update 2.1/1.3 produced the Toner variant of addison. 2.1.1 is the Neon Addison and a sad creature.

Again, im horrendously underexplaining these so i can know for certain what you guys wanna hear about. I love rambling as much as the next guy, but I dont wanna waste your dashboard space. My elaborations will come evetually, but I would love, love to hear which pieces you want to hear sooner.

[kscs-the-radiostar]

(to purple) ..ah. well..the sun's nice. hot, but it's always been that way. how are you doing?

- 🪶

"So you are a Lightner-"

:this line has been disconnected:

:please call a different line:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

[ Ask for CYAN ] don't know if this is the number ... uh - hello ? (💧)

The phone rings in their hand, quickly clattering to the floor. Cici was not ready-

". . . . . . . ." they freeze. " E LLO HHTERE!! Who were you expecting to call, actually;;;;;;;"

The salespitch they practiced has gone out the window, sputtering and spiralling as they try to find their footing on a wrong number call.

"...can i seel you an >[airfryer]?"

:the connection is on standby:

:would yoh like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

[ Ask for GREEN ] Hi, err- what's all that stuff going on there? Everything good? (🍃)

The shuffle and scuffle continues as Uncle Addy lifts the phone back to his... ear?

"I-I-Im so sorry about that-"

||anon asks||

He's puzzled for a moment, gathering his wits. "OH, oh that's just the children. It's never dull around here, a-and never, NEVER is it unwelcoming. I-I'm sure about that," he pleads. Seems this man can never catch his breath.

"We are running out of spare rooms though... too many orphans are still all alone out there, and it breaks my heart..."

The screaming returns.

"L-Cee noooo! Put the bottle down! Put. The bottle. Do-" he's cut off by another child.

"TAKE IT OUTSIDE, L!!" they cheer.

"Shush! I-if you lose it outside, we won't have any shampoo left for our hair. You don't wanna lose your hair, do you?" As threatening as a statement like that should be, he never so much as condescends them.

"...no," the child bemoans.

"Good, now go and get your little boop troop ^^ we need to clean up before lunch," he states, assuredly. A glimmer of pride in the wet towel of a man, quickly snuffed by the sound of a dodgeball.

"GHHKS-"

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

// ( quick question whatre the guidelines on asks that we can send ? )

Oooooooooooo- a question for me-

I think the guidelines are fairly simple:

○ stipulate who you're asking the question to, by name or color, otherwise it goes to me;

○ be mindful of where the people are in the scene, as you contact THEM and they can miss your call;

○ anon magic shenaniganery is currently off, only because it's the first chapter

○ and if you want to be a frequent caller, c'mon in to the discord and claim an acronym or emoji ^^ you can remain anonymous of course! This is caller coordination between callers;

Other than that, you could be an absolute a * * hat in your asks and be perfectly fine.

-signed, Operator

[kscs-the-radiostar]

lost lightner music? that sounds cool!

wait what do you mean by "lost"?

The song trails off, quietly ending in some far off feeling, trying to drag you away with it like a comfort blanket. And Swing holds the button to speak.

"Bienvenue, caller. You are on the air," he sings, low and sweet.

||anon asks||

"...Y'know I was going to say somethin' about all the history questions we're getting to today, but I'll just keep the ball rolling," he gripes.

"You ever notice the lack of Lightners 'round here, hombre? We darkners are all that's left. We lost a good deal of Lightner contact and such when the Crash happened. Lives were lost, friends were lost, MINDS were lost -gosh, Q most of all- , and the Lightners were lost. That's why down here, we call it Lost Code..."

He peters off a quick sigh, pondering a moment before reapproaching the mic.

"Music is the only thing we found left of the lightners, but we had to look for it. Hence, lost. That answer your question, caller?" He puffs mellifluously. Even with all this heavy topic, he keeps bouncing back.

"..I hope so ♡ we've got a real pleasant song coming up to help all you late burners power through the slow trudge."

:the connection is on standby:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

A notepad? H-hold on a moment!

[Bits of shuffling can be heard in the background. Quickly you can hear what seems to be paper being set down.]

Okay, I’m ready! Mr. Pence, was it?

||anon asks||

"Don't worry yourself. There's no hurry," he plucks. A pleasant call after whatever happened with Scrollen-

"Yes, Mr. Pence is fine. I hope, surely, you weren't actually trying to call me. Can't imagine why-" he drones on, strumming the cord of his desk phone. The dull vibrations go up and hit the frequency between you two, sending low hums under your voices.

"So, you called an internal line in the Mansion, probably because you'd punched in too few numbers?? Maybe. See, the phone needs careful attention to the exact numbers, pal. Once you get those, you can save the contact. Do you know how to save a contact?"

This goes on for a short time.

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

The connection clicks, nearly unnoticed. There's no noise, no static. It's crystal clear, nearest perfection, a surprising platform for an angelic voice, neither man nor woman definitively.

". . . Would you like a little welcome?♡ Iiiii could sweep you OFF your feeeeeeeet~ Yeah, yeah. Those sound good."

The sound of scribbles on paper underscore this stranger's outward thoughts.

"Being dead is just a bore, but Queen is gone, so there's room for moOOORE!~" They sing for the audience of them and you, unburdened by the troubles that plague the others before. They sound like an entertainer, and a secure one at that.

". . . Wonder when someone's gonna find me."

[kscs-the-radiostar]

The connection pops, anticlimactically to the sound of a binary tone, like a walkie talkie. A dull tak hits your earpiece every now and then, a reminder to stay awake against the constant sound of a socket wrench.

"You'll be fine, girl. I've got you," a gentle yet spunky woman says. Yes, the voice is young, but it's sassy more than that. And no, it doesn't sound like there is anyone to talk to. So who is she talking to?

"If I could swoop in and adopt you just so your buffoon of a rider can't rip anymore belts on you, I would, baby," She pines, clearly talking to a vehicle. It would be weirder if she knew you were listening just on her shoulder, through her walkie.

"Andromedia. Call in?" A voice crackles over the com.

"Andy called, Chief. What's up you fat b * * * * * * ?~" She bites back, entertained by her own snark.

"Ha. How's the repair?" Chief isn't as jovial.

Andy clambers out from under the vehicle, wherever she was. "Just doing tuning. Why, need someone to bust your balls?" She really is pushing her luck.

". . . You're lucky you know cars. You aren't charming, sweeheart," Chief retorts.

"Good thing I'm not trying to seduce you," Andy snips back.

"Just do your job-" Chief is clearly done.

"Aye, tiger. Doin' it harder than your mom-"

"G * * D * * * ANDY JUST SHUT-"

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

The connection zips in, jostled about and constantly on the move, like a phone. A panicked breath punctuates every step of this unknown phone-wielder. The ruckus of a busy corrider lingers in the backdrop of the ongoing call. But at last, the footsteps stop.

"Where did your pants go this time, Ereeri?" The disappointment of a parent ebbs in the gasps for air from a middle aged man, worn and probably beyond his prime.

"Laundry." Ereeri responds, unashamed by their apparent pantlessness. "Spencemy told me to."

"Sport, you n-need to put them back on yourself. On-One leg at a time-" a deep, recovered breath solidifes the statement. It would seem this is an adult talking to one of many children running rampant in the building.

"Okay, Uncle Addy." The child turns as they walk off, the steps eventually melding into the mess of sounds bouncing off the walls.

"G-Geez... Spencemy? Where's the laundry?" Uncle Addy calls up into the air, almost pleading for a response.

"Yessir, Uncle?- OH, oh. Laundry." So that would be Spencemy, a young man. They are across the sea of children, but they can be picked out easily. That is, it was easy, before some screaming started.

"L-CEE! L-cee, no! Shampoo is not a weapon! D:"

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

(Tap tap tap, then a slight pause) ...uhh... hello? Who am I calling? // (SIDENOTE FROM TERA I AM LOOKING DIRECTLY AT THIS ASKBLOG WOO YEAH WOO YEAH)

The bloop of the phone shakes the gravity away, and the host lights back up, his tone much more clear and effortless.

"And here's our next caller." The welcome *thnk* of the speaker button returns. "Hello, you're on the air."

||anon asks||

"Heheh, hello, you're calling Radiostar, 97.1; the first and only Darkner radio to broadcast lost Lightner music, 100% free and 110% fly~"

That almost sounded like a pitch.

"This station is just in your backyard, no place special, prettyboy and/or lady. We here just relax and let the stress out as we fix up for tomorrow and do it all again. A smoke break, if you will." He's very proud and sure of himself in every word, leaving no room for speculation or regrets.

"Or are you asking about the host? Then, just call me G. Your average darkner, Swing G. Pleasure's all yours. Make sure you've got your headphones~ Cuz we're going in to one of my favorites. The song that inspired me to share my music."

The song transitions in, smooth yet powerful.

"And for my special little fan among the maice: id3NX1usGBM. Have a nice ride♡"

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

the crash? what's that?

The host chimes back in as the bloop of the phone beside him goes off.

".. Looks like we've got a caller," he chimes, holding down the speaker button with a subtle click.

"You're on the air, darlin'. What's on your mind?"

||anon asks||

"Hooooooh, we've got a fledgling on the line. Maybe you weren't alive for it, and thank your lucky grids you weren't." His chair groans as he leans back, stretching as he speaks.

"The Crash, otherwise known as the War on Music, or the Trojan, and where I'm from... Lost Code. A darker time, to be colorful; a time of grave mistakes."

His voice slowly succumbs to the somberness. This isn't history to him.

"Popups, Virovirokun, Plugboys, and Addisons-" he adds with vitriol, "-were all subservent to the former monarch. Lowly, neglected lives, left to hold up the kingdom our 'divine ruler' set us to be. But one fella, the only redeemable one of his kind, stood up and made his own creations without Lightners." He sits up, rolling his chair in as he gets into his groove, "He flipped the proverbial finger to that b * * * * and said, 'Shove it, Q, I'm making music whether they come back or not!' And she took it HARD!"

An eruption of laughter fills the booth, echoless and perfect.

"Ahhh... but she took it too far. Even the Ambyu Lances didn't stand a chance to the slaughter... but that Swatchling threw her out, and we're on the slow up and up."

And with that, he slumps back with a satisfied *pmpf* back in his armchair.

"No one won that war, and we all paid. All over a silly disc..."

:the connection is on standby:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

The connection is near perfect now, the clear quality of a podcast occassionally interrupted by radio hum. A voice of pure syrup chimes in and cuts away the buzz of the radio,

"Good to have you late-burners, toss-n-turners, and sleepless darkners here t'night. Hope that last song didn't lose some of you."

It sounds like you've tuned directly to the mic, which this host is very intimate with.

"For all you new tuners, that wasn't just any ol' song. Not even one of my brothers. Nah, that... that was Lightner music. A pure sound straight from the one's beyond. And I'm lucky enough to bring it all to you, free of charge. 'Cuz feelings that good can't be priced. We got enough to pay for and pay back..."

The agonizing pause lets the bitterness spill over a little too much.

"Let's just get an update on that lovely dark world, shall we?"

The shuffle of papers crinkles the radio static and disappears as the host begins,

"Q5U4EX7YY2E9N is still at large and possibly dangerous. And for the first time in months, there are no sightings. Good job, night-maice. Either you've all been diligent or one of you died to find her. Either way, I'm proud of you. In other news, we're still on the up and up from the Crash. Remember, we aren't racing to recover. We're walking together. We made it this far, my friends, so why not celebrate til morning?"

A melodic guitar sweeps into the frequency, a fitting transition for the host's rousing speech.

"Let's not break stride, hm?~"

:the connection has expired:

:would you like to redial?:

[kscs-the-radiostar]

[Ask for Pㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ] Who? Who forgot you- (The phone is snatched by another caller) WORK, damn it, WORK STUPI--[✍️+🍂]

:The number you are trying to call-:

:The number you are trying to-:

:The number you are trying-:

:The number you are-:

:The number you-:

:The number-:

:The:

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

"The time has come. And the show must go on," a mysterious voice calls out. It echoes just beyond your reach.

The sound is in your ears.

[kscs-the-radiostar]

[ Ask for PURPLE ] "Won't stop you from talking", hm? Then go on. Please, speak. I want to hear it all. [✍️]

No

"I dOnt think yoa do."

The line finally evens out

"I am not bound to the same limits as other darkners anymore. I am trapped and liberated, apathetic to the pain they suffer yet a participant all the same."

They pause to sigh, "I was just like the rest of them, just.."

A little too lucky.