#Technology to unleash an entirely new collective human potential | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jcmorrigan · 3 years

Note

I saw the tag- I am gonna ask you about the crossover universe- (omg I’m literally gushing about this)

OH, IT IS TIME!

So you can find a lot of this on the “What is the WHAM ARMY?” page on my blog – I’ll try to remember to link it; I’m drafting this in a word processor first so I don’t use it. Essentially, this is the universe I’ve created for my fanfic “Taking Back the Crown,” which is about…basically my favorite villains all moving into the same house and trying to take over the multiverse. And then it got lore. And more lore. Because I cannot write anything normal. The fic is nearing its 150th chapter and I’m nowhere NEAR exhausted of all the ideas I want to put in it – it’s just my big playground for hyperfixation fun. Anyway, here’s a rundown of the major points of it!

THE CAST

The main characters are the eight villains who are the founders of the WHAM ARMY. The faction name is an acronym of their first initials. They’re my ultrafaves, the villains I always get fluttery heart for, and probably the biggest collection of losers you can imagine. I’ll put them in order of the acronym and give you some background on how each entered the team.

Wuya (Xiaolin Showdown) – So the connecting factor between these people is that Mozenrath (his name is a few slots down) is their team leader and the one who decided to build a team in the first place. Wuya was recruited when Mozenrath found her puzzle box in an ancient vault. This is set post-series for XS (and Chronicles is not at all canon), so what had happened is in the big Showdown right after Raimundo was named team leader officially in the finale, the Xiaolin Monks won ALL the Shen Gong Wu to their side and stuffed Wuya in the box. So Mozenrath found her and let her out so they could be pals. A magic potion let her regain human form fairly early on, and her power isn’t even nerfed either the way Chase Young would’ve done.

Huntsman (American Dragon: Jake Long) – ADJL is also post-series in this timeline. Mozenrath has the power to resurrect people from the dead at will because he’s memorized an ancient and incredibly complex ritual that he can execute mentally (note that this means you can remove this ability from him by tampering with his memories). The Huntsman was resurrected so as to show Mozenrath around the old Huntsclan vault (which is where they found Wuya’s puzzle box). No other Huntsclan member survived the purge except Rose (and 88 and 89, but they don’t count and aren’t in this story), so the Huntsman is starting from square one.

Ayam Aghoul (Aladdin: The Animated Series): Basically just got sick of losing. He’d teamed up with a few other rando Aladdin rogues to try and pick a fight with Maleficent, and she sent him packing. So he ended up finding one of the few residents of the Seven Deserts who was powerful enough to match him AND had a similar grudge against Maleficent.

Mozenrath (Aladdin: The Animated Series): The man of the hour and the creator of the entire team. He starts the fic by crashing Maleficent’s KH Disney Villain alliance and trying to add himself to it, but…ends up being such a disrespectful nuisance that Hades just drags him straight down to the Underworld. That moment inspired him to get his OWN band of friends and start making a name for himself.

Archibald Snatcher (The Boxtrolls): Met Mozenrath in the Underworld after his death in film canon. Annoyed Hades one too many times by claiming that he wasn’t actually supposed to die, seeing as he isn’t allergic to dairy (he is), so Hades threw him in the same cell as Mozenrath and…

Roman Torchwick (RWBY): I started writing this fic in 2016, immediately post-V3, so it’s canon-divergent after the last episode of V3 (but I got all the later-game characters to show up eventually). Which means Roman is ALSO dead at the start of this fic. He ALSO comes storming up to Hades insisting he’s not even supposed to be dead. At the same time as Snatcher is already pestering him. Which is how Mozenrath, Snatcher, and Roman end up in the same jail cell in Tartarus and get the idea that maybe they should break back into the world of the living and try to build something BETTER than what any of the three had beforehand.

Mad Madam Mim (The Sword in the Stone): Mozenrath, immediately after breaking out of the Underworld, attempted to take over Arthur’s kingdom by just walking in and throwing magic around. It backfired horribly when Merlin showed up. But then Mim showed up to counter Merlin and realized that maybe she had a potential friend here who was as blackhearted as she.

Yzma (The Emperor’s New Groove): Post-TENG, no KNG or TENS (but I reference things from TENS every now and again). Merlin turned Mozenrath into a rat, so Mim brought him to Yzma’s Secret Lab to change him back. There, they found Yzma as a cat, and she so desperately wanted out of her living situation that she added herself to the team. She was also restored to human form shortly thereafter.

There is a potential ninth member of the core in the form of Vexen (Kingdom Hearts). KH is canon-divergent after DDD and basically ignores almost every game that comes out after Fragmentary Passage. Vexen, as Even, was trying to integrate into life as a hero in Radiant Garden, except everyone annoyed him way too much, so he decided to go be with people that would give right back any insults he dished out. And then realized he was much happier being on the evil team and doing mad science with no ethics. However, he will not be promoted to the upper ranks because 1. it would spoil the acronym and 2. he is unanimously agreed-upon to be the biggest wet blanket of the group and nobody wants him at the founder parties.

(Imagine my disbelief when the actual canon arc for Vexen was THE REVERSE ONE IN WHICH HE JUST DECIDES TO GO LIVE AT RADIANT GARDEN AND NOT BE ANNOYED BY ANYTHING and that’s why JC doesn’t like Kingdom Hearts III)

Anyway, this crew is a bunch of silly friends who enjoy partying, singing, dancing, drag, indulging in vices, causing mayhem, taking over cities, arranging for mass murder, piecing together smear campaigns…but they’re all pretty much ride or die for each other. And that goes double for the ships of the set: Mozenrath/Huntsman, Mim/Aghoul, Wuya/Yzma, and my favorite ship to end all favorites, Roman/Snatcher (RedHatBlackHat is the ship name).

From there, you have a B-Squad of, like, seventy other people based on my faves. Nonnie, I know you saw this because of Vincent Edgeworth, Victor Blake, and Albert Krueger, and they are three of COUNTLESS examples. It’s a found crime family that keeps getting bigger as I get more fave villains and there’s hardly a rhyme or a reason. Currently, they live in a floating fortress designed when they stole Terra Cyclonia (Storm Hawks) and hefted it out into the aether between worlds with crystal technology.

They have a rival hero faction in the form of the Cinnamons: a gathering of people who they’ve wronged who turned out to make pretty good friends themselves. While the WHAM ARMY are the villain-protag team that you feel slightly bad loving the escapades of, the Cinnamons are the rainbows, fluff, sunshine, (secret crippling depression and anxiety), and pep-talkers of the multiverse. They’re the deuteragonist team as opposed to the “villains” of the story. They also have eight “leaders,” but they were picked up a little less quickly than the WHAM ARMY founders, instead coming together over the span of a much longer quest. These people are:

Sora (Kingdom Hearts): Heart of the team and the person who pulled them all together, because Sora loves everyone. He, Riku, and Kairi witnessed the WHAM ARMY wreaking destruction on both Radiant Garden and Disney Castle, and Sora decided no one gets to treat his homes-away-from-home like that and get away with it! Between Mozenrath and the still-looming threats of Maleficent and Xehanort, he’s now collecting pals from all worlds to fight against evil and do as much good as they can do! (While having sleepovers.)

Ruby Rose (RWBY): Before she, Nora, Ren, and Jaune could get into Mistral, Sora interrupted them on their path and directed them right back around to Vale with the news that Roman Torchwick was back in action. After an incident involving the Destiny Trio and Team RNJR having to team up and actually kill the massive Grimm unleashed in the V3 endgame, they all headed out to Radiant Garden together to continue their mission.

Papyrus (Undertale): Sora found him while exploring worlds and they clicked immediately as pals. Then the WHAM ARMY, who was living in Mt. Ebott at the time, sparked an anti-monster racist sentiment through the town, and Papyrus was advised to leave the world for his own safety, so he went traveling with Sora.

Stork (Storm Hawks): Maleficent, who is also an active player in this game, made a power play by destroying the Condor with the entire Storm Hawks team onboard while they were on the Far Side of Atmos (post-series). Stork, believing himself to be the only survivor, attempted to take his own life – only for Sora to show up just in time and offer him something better: hope that his friends survived, and new friends to tag along with until they could prove either way.

Jasmine (Aladdin): The Cinnamons came looking to Agrabah for more information on Mozenrath. When Jasmine heard he was causing chaos, she decided to get personally involved.

Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender): Post-ATLA, no LoK. Sora made a trip to the Fire Nation to see if he could head off the WHAM ARMY’s latest scheme, and ran into the Gaang along the way. After helping Katara, Aang, and Zuko protect the Fire Nation from a very near miss, Sora invited them to come travel with him. Only Katara accepted at first, the other two wanting to clean things up on their homeworld.

Kazuichi Soda (DanganRonpa): Post-SDR2, no DR3. Xehanort requested Izuru Kamukura be used as a vessel, and Kazuichi went in Izuru/Hajime’s place so his buddy didn’t have to. But the first chance he got, Kazuichi turned and ran from the Castle That Never Was…where Sora had just crash-landed. Kazuichi patched up Sora’s ship, and immediately became part of his crew. (Worth noting: in this AU, the Remnants of Despair were never brainwashed and were completely aware of what they were doing. Kazuichi is basically a redemption story, trying to be a better person to make up for the hell he caused. Also, while on the Despair side, he’d hacked off his leg to sew Junko’s in its place, disabling himself – that leg goes through an arc regarding what prosthesis is in its place.)

Rapunzel (Tangled): After the Vardaros arc of S2 of Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure. Rapunzel was targeted by the WHAM ARMY because she was essentially a living MacGuffin for one of their spells. Sora showed up, and Rapunzel decided to go along with him for safety AND fun, leaving Cassandra to continue the pilgrimage to the Dark Kingdom. (Wrote this before KHIII was out. And before the Evil Cass twist.)

And just like the WHAM ARMY, these folks have a huge B-squad that lives in the Radiant Garden castle and helps them deal with the various tragedies they have to clean up after. Riku, Kairi, and Jaune Arc in particular get a decent amount of stage time.

As you can see, Maleficent (Sleeping Beauty/Kingdom Hearts) and her forces are another big set of chess pieces on the board! After she sent Mozenrath to gay baby jail and it didn’t stick, she’s been trying to continue plans for domination as usual but ALSO wipe the WHAM ARMY off the face of the multiverse. She, Jafar (Aladdin), Ursula (The Little Mermaid), and Hades (Hercules) all came straight here from KH. But I’m working to model that team’s inner circle on the team in “Quite a Glittering Assemblage,” the sister fic by gavillain (it’s basically this premise but Maleficent gets a team to start instead, but similarities end there, his is a whole different, fresh, and fun flavor). I’ve just gotten all these characters intro’d instory, but the other biggies are Loki (Marvel – I based him in the Cinematic Universe but he’s kind of just an amalgamation of Lokis), Dr. Doom (Marvel), Captain Hook (Once Upon a Time), Russell Edgington (True Blood), and Fish Mooney (Gotham). Currently, they operate out of the Forbidden Mountain in the Enchanted Dominion.

There’s also a very new addition as of the 140’s chapters: the Heathens. This is a squad of villains with moral lines in the sand (and some antiheroes or corrupted heroes). Basically, these aren’t your killers for fun. These are the people who steal candy from the gas station and think they’re slick, but the point is they’re enjoying themselves so just let it happen. The four founders of this one are Harley Quinn (DC – based on The Batman but an amalgamation of Harleys that leans sympathetic), Yang Xiao Long (RWBY), Giovanni Potage (Epithet Erased), and Velvet Crowe (Tales of Berseria). Currently, they operate out of the old mansion in Twilight Town.

The Xehanorts are here, and that team is largely who you think it is – though I stripped away Vexen, Demyx, Marluxia, Larxene, and Luxord in order to replace them ALL with Xaldin. More crossover shenanigans to come on this front. This team isn’t very active – they’re waiting for the Keyblade War – but they’re operating out of the World That Never Was.

There’s also another side villain faction: the Morbians, led by Mirage (Aladdin: The Animated Series). These are the demons of fear, the stuff that lurks in your nightmares, and…the villains I really like but who I don’t quite think fit in with the WHAM ARMY or any other more prominent group. But to give you an idea of what the flavor of this team is, she’s recruited not one but TWO Boogeymen – Pitch Black (Rise of the Guardians) and Oogie Boogie (The Nightmare Before Christmas).

There will be more villain factions to come, and I kind of want to splinter the Cinnamons to multiple bases as well. Obviously it’s easier to split villains up because they’re fun to write at war with each other – when I have hero teams come up against each other, usually they end up becoming best buddies instead of fighting, and that’s how I like it, but that’s why there’s just ONE BIG HERO TEAM as opposed to the many villain squads rattling around.

THE SETTING

So as you have probably gleaned, the multiverse setup is largely based on Kingdom Hearts, which is one of my favorite things (in the KH1 through Fragmentary Passage era anyway). There are many worlds that can be visited either by Gummi Ship or Corridor of Darkness. Basically any evil-aligned sorcerer can use Corridors in this ‘verse – they’ve opened their souls to Darkness and have magic, so they can do so.

The implication is that every world represents a separate “story” or part of one. As in if it’s a work of fiction HERE, it’s a world THERE. Some characters are actually savvy enough to know they’re fictional (e.g. Megavolt from Darkwing Duck, Xayide from The Neverending Story). Most of them aren’t built to handle the news, though, and just shrug it off if told. (No, really, the cosmic order prevents them from taking that news seriously if they’re not from something that regularly leans on the fourth wall anyway.)

But sometimes, things get AU’d in without their full worlds. I was inspired by how Final Fantasy is treated in canon KH, and once I started bringing in more FF stuff by the same method, I felt motivated to do that with MORE fandoms if I felt the characters could be divorced from their settings and histories easily. I’ve done it for most Disney Channel non-animated properties as well as Satellite City (ain’t that the worst combo you’ve ever looked at). I’m planning to do it for Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn because I’m coming up on a location I want to delve into the civilization of but don’t have many canon characters for, so guess what, you get the FE cast now.

Major worlds or relevant locations in play are the Cyclonian warship, Radiant Garden, Twilight Town, and occasionally the Enchanted Dominion, but we move from plotline to plotline with journeys to many, many, MANY worlds of things I want to play with the settings and casts of. Also, the Cyclonian warship is about to get replaced with another WHAM ARMY base; we’ll get there.

THE STORY

For the first major “book” of TBTC, the WHAM ARMY has found a spell that they think will let them conquer the entire multiverse by giving them control over Kingdom Hearts itself. All they have do to is collect a bunch of MacGuffins that correspond to twelve elements: fire, water, earth, air, light, darkness, life, death, time, space, entropy, and aether. In order to do this, they visit the worlds of KH, RWBY, Avatar, Storm Hawks, Okami, Undertale, Wakfu, The Legend of Zelda, The Neverending Story, My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic, and many many more. The Cinnamons catch wind of what they’re doing and start assembling. Meanwhile Maleficent is on the hunt for the Book of Prophecies and starts hiring villains on her team as well. After many madcap adventures and some devastating tragedies near endgame, the Cinnamons accidentally put the Book of Prophecies in Maleficent’s hands at the same time that Maleficent finally captures Mozenrath and gets him under heel. The WHAM ARMY and Cinnamons both launch attacks on Maleficent’s forces, and each walks away with what they came for. This is also the part where we slowburn up to the four major WHAM ARMY ships and many Cinnamon ships. In the end, the WHAM ARMY actually gets all the ingredients for their spell, but what they don’t know is it will actually cause the DESTRUCTION of the worlds. So an outside force intervenes (Discord from MLPFIM, who later joins the WHAM ARMY because he wants friends who actually appreciate him as a villain and won’t make him change) to stop them, and the next thing they know, they’re starting from square one.

We’re now in the second “book” of this story. The Cinnamons are gathering up all lost friends – the rest of Team RWBY, the Gaang, the Storm Hawks (who did in fact survive the explosion), the lost KH characters. The WHAM ARMY, on the other hand, is gathering up more villains to bolster their forces for a new evil plan: to conquer the worlds one by one, starting with Atlantis (Disney’s Atlantis: The Lost Empire) and using portals to link to other territories of interest. While the WHAM ARMY is essentially working through a to-do list of what they need before they can launch such a massive invasion, the Cinnamons are finding strength in numbers because the writing’s on the wall that between Mozenrath, Maleficent, Mirage, and Xehanort, things are going to get worse before they get better, and as evil builds, good will need to rise to protect the innocent. As for Maleficent, she’s no longer able to chase the Book of Prophecies, and so, because she’s got Hades, Loki, and Salem (RWBY) there and they’re all like “Even though we’re pretty godlike, we are not that happy with how the gods we knew have run things,” Maleficent’s new goal is to slaughter the gods of all pantheons (minus those in her care) and replace them with her allies.

Anyway, as I had said in the post you saw, Anon – I basically take everything fictional I love and shove it into this AU for daydreams because it lets me imagine my faves having CROSSOVER INTERACTIONS and doing cool epic stuff on a multi-world scale. (But as much as I’ve talked up the epic aspect, a lot of it is just…like…people fucking around and hosting karaoke nights.) Anyway, I hope this gave you a good sense of the madness, and I hope it serves as a reminder to everyone that they can and should just. Make a daydream and/or fanfic universe that’s indulgent as hell. Just do it.

#wham army #tbtc #long post #i considered a read more #but i hate the tiny text on my blog #i need a new blog theme

7 notes · View notes

glorious-blackout · 4 years

Text

Self-Indulgent Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino/Simulation Theory Crossover Epilogue

@rock-n-roll-fantasy Aaaaaand it’s over! This is technically more of an optional ending as I suspect you’ll prefer the conclusion to Part Seven, but a certain character would never have forgiven me if I didn’t let him get the last word... 😉

Thank you so much for all of your lovely feedback and sorry for making you wait so long for these last two chapters! And now it’s time for me to finally start listening to Arctic Monkeys/Muse albums that *weren’t* released in 2018 😅🥰

Also I would like to thank Matt for unknowingly writing the perfect end-credits music for me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8tpkpoSW5I

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

*********************************************

A million miles away, on the desolate remains of the planet once known as Earth, a lone observer watches silently as a pair of retreating figures on a cramped TV screen ride off into the unknown.

Surrounding him on all sides are thousands of similar screens, stacked atop each other like building blocks, though for the moment he only has eyes for one. Only a week ago, every single screen was proudly lit up, showcasing the intimate details of his subjects’ mundane lives and thus allowing him to observe with unrelenting scrutiny. Now, however, a worrying proportion of those screens are fizzing with broken static; the worlds they once displayed forever lost from his grasp.

The sight should enrage him, and perhaps one day it will. Every barren screen represents the loss of constant hours of effort and imagination, and as the aftershocks of Matthew’s assault continue to ricochet, he imagines he will lose countless more over the coming weeks. Nevertheless, for the moment he cannot bring himself to mourn the loss of realities which brought him little pleasure in the first place.

Murph, or The Creator, or whichever title he chooses to wear on any particular day, does not consider himself a cruel being. Contrary to the vile accusations his peers have levelled against him, his games are not designed with the intention of torturing the subjects within them. In fact, one could consider his efforts to preserve the collective consciousness of a dying species to be a noble one. Humanity would be nothing more than a distant memory had he not intervened at the opportune moment. And yet, despite his good intentions, acting as a benevolent observer often fails to bring the satisfaction he desires. Sometimes boredom settles deep within his bones and he cannot help but interfere with the idyllic lives his subjects have created for themselves.

And he cannot deny that the thought of these two particular playthings discovering hope which will ultimately be torn away does put a smile on his face.

Most of that satisfaction lies in the prospect of punishing Matthew, though he has no doubt that toying with Alexander’s heart further will provide its own brand of levity. Where bitter vengeance is concerned, however, the former is the one he truly has unfinished business with. That particular human has been a thorn in his side from the very beginning; his knack for slipping into paranoia at any given opportunity had made constructing a believable reality for him an almost insurmountable challenge. The temptation to simply banish the man’s mind into the void had flared up once or twice, but in the end Murph had been somewhat successful. Matthew had bought the truth of his reality with relative ease for the first few years, to the point where any cracks that appeared were easily ironed out with a simple rewrite of code.

Until one day, Murph’s interferences were no longer sufficient to sustain the lie. Matthew’s conviction shattered and his mind with it; without warning, he set about tearing the carefully constructed world around him to shreds and treated his lifelong friends with open hostility. Murph could easily have given him up for lost at that point. Matthew had always been an infuriatingly willful creature – incapable of appreciating Murph’s efforts even after stumbling upon the truth of his feeble existence – and killing him would have been as simple as swatting a fly.

And yet, Murph had allowed him to live. Not out of any form of mercy, heavens no, but because the promise of a challenge was far too compelling. Matthew’s resistance made him special, whether he realised it or not. Most of his subjects were docile creatures; passive participants in a charade they refused to acknowledge. The ones who had come into his care willingly were the worst offenders, having subconsciously convinced themselves that they were caught in a blissful afterlife preferable to the miserable future they would have endured on Earth. Perhaps they’re right, but humans living in quiet contentment have always made for boring viewing. In the form of Matthew, Murph had finally stumbled upon an active participant he could slowly unravel at the seams, and after years of steadily building ennui, the thrill of the chase had been downright intoxicating.

In contrast to Matthew’s blatant rage, Alexander’s resistance had been... unexpected. The strength of it even more so. Murph cannot help but wonder if the sheer force of his suspicion – his feeling of utter wrongness in a place he’d once willingly called home – would have reduced his world to dust even in the absence of Matthew’s influence. Perhaps this shouldn’t have surprised him. For as long as he can remember, he has always had more trouble maintaining the lie when the subjects have been unwillingly brought under his control. The same is true for all species he has salvaged; it is the same factor which no doubt played a role in Matthew’s refusal to accept his own reality. Murph can manipulate their memories all he likes, but the inherent desire to escape their miserable fate is forever latched onto their souls.

The new identity had been an inspired touch in the beginning, keeping Alexander’s naturally insightful tendencies at bay for a while. Mark had been a more amicable creation while still retaining plenty of Alexander’s attributes, and the latter’s imagination had always made his reality one worth visiting. However, the line between the two identities had grown considerably blurred over time. Memories had melded together in ways that no longer made logical sense, and Alexander’s yearnings for home had translated to a bitter exhaustion and loneliness which Mark simply couldn’t overcome.

The fact that everything Murph had built had ultimately been derailed by a bottle of scotch and a friendly conversation was as clear a sign as any that Mark’s world had been hanging by a thread far longer than he had appreciated.

It probably took more effort than it was worth to salvage Alexander’s mind from his dying world and place it in an entirely new one - costing countless other simulations in the process - but he cannot bring himself to regret that decision. It hadn’t seemed fitting to let such promise fizzle out with a mere whimper. Entertainment is a rare commodity in these trying times, and he’s learned to take what he can get.

Matthew has certainly contributed his fair share. Having decided that killing him outright would be a waste, Murph had invested a lot of time in their frantic game of cat and mouse. While his plaything remained confined within the limits of his own reality – a frightfully boring seaside town on England’s coast – Murph had upped the ante by unleashing a horde of mutated creatures, using them as vectors to introduce a virus which reduced the population to rabid monsters driven solely by bloodlust. If Matthew had been particularly shaken by this new development, he’d masked it well. If anything, he seemed to glean a sense of bitter enjoyment out of receiving confirmation that his reality was little more than a façade, and had risen to the unspoken challenge admirably.

Before long it had occurred to Matthew that an absence of limitation placed upon the imagination could also apply to him. He learned not only how to play the game, but how to adapt the rules in his own favour. Murph had quickly come to rue the day he placed Matthew in a technologically inventive time-period, for his opponent had taken advantage at every opportunity; fashioning makeshift weapons and vehicles out of little more than scrap metal and a vast imagination. No particular engineering prowess was necessary. Before long he was summoning technology out of thin air with an ease that almost rivalled Murph’s own.

Even then, Murph had been unconcerned. Despite Matthew managing to slaughter any mutated creature he crossed paths with, the threat he posed to Murph himself seemed so miniscule as to be easily dismissed. At least at that point Matthew had mostly been sticking to the rules. Once the penny dropped that his reality was merely one of thousands in an intricate web, however, he’d accomplished the unimaginable and injected something which might have been fear into Murph’s long-decayed heart. Disbelieving eyes had been glued to the screen as Matthew fashioned a portal from scrap; one which should, by rights, have been unable to accomplish anything of merit. And yet, once its construction was complete, Matthew had stepped into the blinking red void without a trace of fear, smashing his way through the walls of one reality and emerging into another, whole and seemingly unscathed.

Quashing his efforts had become a much greater priority at that point. Treating Matt like a dog-eared chew-toy in his own reality was all well and good, but the man had gained far more intelligence and influence than Murph could tolerate. The prospect that he could potentially infect other realities with his schemes threatened to send Murph’s entire empire crumbling to ash if he wasn’t careful. In the more futuristic settings, he had been able to station guards designed in his own image, with the sole intention of blasting Matthew into atoms if he dared worm his way into their reality, but rather predictably Matt had dodged their attacks with a wry smirk, bending the rules to his will with an expertise that was almost frightening. Despite the seriousness of the man’s objective to track down his loved ones and rescue them from an existence he naively deemed to be diabolical, Murph got the distinct impression that Matthew was enjoying himself far too much. He was still treating his escapades like a game, long after Murph’s own objectives had darkened.

Well, if he insisted on playing dirty, then Murph could resort to that as well.

He’s still proud of his next trick. The brutal reaction it had elicited had been nothing short of delicious. With vivid gratification, he recalls the momentary spark of hope in Matthew’s eyes as his gaze settled upon the avatars of his friends, during a visit to a simulated reality which almost resembled Earth. He remembers the moment his opponent had allowed longing to override logic; remembers the point where all thoughts of the chase were abandoned and, with a cautious smile, Matthew had fooled himself into believing that he’d discovered the true forms of the men he’d loved since he was a teenager.

What must it have felt like to see them again, Murph cannot help but wonder? The Christopher and Dominic of Matthew’s own reality had been dispatched early in their charade, infected and mutated by the same creatures Matthew evaded with relative ease. No doubt the only reason Matthew survived their losses was because he’d already accepted that they were nothing more than sorry substitutes for the real thing. A part of him must have wondered, however, if that was truly the end. If the last association he would ever have of his two best friends would be the sight of them clawing their way towards him in a mindless rage.

The cold mix of terror and heartbreak that crashed upon Matthew once the blatant hatred in the eyes of his friends became crystal clear is an image Murph still treasures. For one bittersweet moment he’d honestly suspected that Matthew would surrender and let fate carry him away, rendering Murph the victor and granting fleeting satisfaction in the aftermath.

Alas, survival instincts had kicked in at the last possible second, and Matthew had fled the scene at a sprint before his familiar assailants could shoot.

The temptation to do the same to Alexander had arisen once or twice, on the occasions where boredom reared its ugly head. It would have been a simple enough task. The avatars for three of his best friends were already buried in the simulation; a simple rewrite of their code would have turned their inherent fondness for Alex into hatred in a heartbeat. He could even have added one additional ghost into the mix, just to twist the knife until the pain would never stop. Alex had never done anything to warrant that level of torture, however. Playing with Matthew’s heart had been entertaining - not to mention earned - whereas playing with Alex’s would have been like kicking a puppy just to see how it would react. Momentarily thrilling, perhaps, but ultimately predictable.

Besides, Matthew had made him pay for his cruelty, albeit not quite as successfully as Murph has led him to believe. His constant hopping from one reality to another had rendered Murph’s creations vulnerable. His brutal smashing through virtual walls left aftershocks in the wake of his adventures, although that in itself was easily fixable. Murph had quickly grown tired of his continued insolence over time. Not so much his continued survival, though he did make a point to send the morphed versions of his friends after him at every given opportunity. However, Matt had an unfortunate habit of forgetting that, in the wake of Murph’s towering influence, he was little more than a cockroach waiting to be squashed underfoot. The lack of respect had forced Murph to step in, to confront this tiny creature and remind him that he was simply an insignificant plaything in the grand scheme of things.

Matthew’s lack of fear when faced with him for the first time had almost been impressive, though Murph had been able to sense his feeble heart racing with adrenaline. The human had stood impassively on a steep cliff-edge while Murph towered over him, revealing his true form for the first time. From a distance Matt must surely have looked like a blot on the horizon and nothing more.

Such a meeting had no doubt been Matt’s intention. Murph allowing himself to become invested in the game rather than erasing Matthew from existence in the first place had been a mistake borne of arrogance, and he now knows it would serve him well not to make the same mistake again. The mind-numbing aftershocks stemming from the moment Matthew powered up a metallic glove and aimed a colossal, fiery beam of energy at his tormenter serve as a bitter reminder that he must learn to be more careful.

Physically the assault had done nothing at all. Even if Matthew’s corporeal body were standing right in front of him at this very moment, any attempt to attack would have the same effect as a mouse trying to destroy a mountain.

The mental assault, however, had been far more powerful than Murph could ever have anticipated.

Perhaps Matthew himself believed the weapon he’d designed was a physical one; he seems willing to accept the possibility that it killed its target after all. What the beam had truly unleashed, however, was a sheer, unrelenting wave of emotion. All of Matthew’s simmering rage and heartbreak had drowned Murph under its weight as his consciousness was overcome by burning sparks of light. All of Matthew’s love for his friends and family - which had become so intertwined with grief during his entrapment - reduced Murph’s mind to a blank haze, and beneath it all the sheer power of hope and determination had shattered the reality they’d both been standing in.

A similar feeling of powerlessness had overcome Murph not long before, when Alexander somehow anticipated Murph’s attempts to erase Matthew from his mind and erected a mental block so formidable that his very reality had trembled. This was different, however. Alex’s attempt had been powerful but clumsy, like batting his arms against an unseen enemy in the dark. In contrast, Matthew’s assault had been the direct attack of a man desperate to burn Murph to the ground without a care in the world for whether he himself survived the aftermath.

Murph had awoken in his nest, surrounded by screens and caught in a daze. In a moment of madness, he’d spared Matthew’s dying mind from the crumbling reality he was trapped within, fashioning a new one in the blink of an eye. One with considerably less tricks and theatrics. One that resembled the home Matt yearned for so desperately, recreating it so convincingly that his insightful mind appears to have taken the bait.

Murph cannot help but wonder if it would have been easier to let Matthew die. Alex too. The latter’s knack for questioning his authority will no doubt prove troublesome, now that he knows to be distrustful of the reality presented to him. For now though, Matthew remains his greatest concern. His mind still aches in the wake of the man’s assault. With each passing second, he can feel more and more worlds fade into nothingness, leaving only static in their wake and claiming the souls of thousands in the process. Losing them all is not a possibility he wants to comprehend. He has not spent enough time on Earth to justify heralding humanity’s extinction so early, and alternative dying planets are harder to come by than one might expect.

He wonders how Matthew would feel if he knew he’d disrupted and destroyed the minds of so many people. People who were once as human as him and Alex, who are now gone without the faintest trace that they ever existed in the first place. People who had no say in their fate, nor any stakes in the game they’ve both been playing for far longer than necessary. Would he be so overwhelmed by guilt that he would no longer be able to function? Would the realisation be the final straw in snapping the man’s mind like a twig once and for all?

Or will he consider those people to be liberated from their prison like the naïve fool that he is?

No doubt Murph will find out the answer to that eventually. This particular ammunition is too valuable to waste.

That can wait until later though. Matthew and Alex still need to be eased gently into believing that their current reality is real; there will be time for twisted revelations and sacrifices later. Besides, regardless of the eventual outcome, Murph can take comfort in knowing that his ultimate victory is inevitable.

He wonders how long it will take for the penny to drop. For those final, fearful memories to return. For the realisation to sink in that, for all their struggles to return to their beloved realm of flesh and bone, they’ve chosen to embark on an endeavor which is entirely futile.

They have no physical bodies to return to. No means of roaming the Earth as living creatures. Any vessels they may have previously inhabited sputtered and died when their minds were pulled from their heads; their bodies buried long ago, having been wept over by the same people they insist on mourning now.

As for their minds? Well, they’ll remain in Murph’s capable hands until the moment he tires of them and blinks them out of existence. No doubt it will be a long while before he’s driven to such extremity, of course. These two are fortunate that they’re as entertaining as they are annoying, and tormenting them further will certainly be one way to pass the time.

As it stands, time is all he has.

So for now, he’ll gladly let them indulge in their fantasy. He’ll construct a small band of survivors five miles from the beach, offering food and shelter and an explanation for their ruined earthen surroundings which somewhat mirrors the truth. He’ll offer campfires and music; will allow pleasant recollections of their previous lives to return to them in the form of dreams. He may even offer whispers of other survivors closer to the city, with descriptions matching the loved ones whose arms they wish so desperately to return to.

There’s no rush. No need to pull the rug from under their feet too early and spoil the fun.

It’s only a game after all.

#honestly i probably should have watched the ST movie before writing this thing #this chapter really was me trying to piece together some semblance of a story from the music videos/gifs #hopefully it's not completely incoherent 😅#Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino #Simulation Theory #Arctic Monkeys #Muse #my fic #writing

7 notes · View notes

militant-holy-knight · 4 years

Link

We have been paying dearly for China's lies.

"This is one of the worst cover-ups in human history, and now the world is facing a global pandemic," said Rep. Michael T. McCaul, the ranking Republican member of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, before the US intelligence community concluded, in a classified report to the White House, that China has concealed the origin and extent of the catastrophic global coronavirus outbreak.

The Chinese Communist Party's "failure has unleashed a global contagion killing thousands", wrote Cardinal Charles Maung Bo, president of the Federation of Asian Bishops' Conferences, on April 1. "As we survey the damage done to lives around the world, we must ask who is responsible?"

"... there is one government that has primary responsibility for what it has done and what it has failed to do, and that is the CCP [Chinese Communist Party] regime in Beijing. Let me be clear — it is the CCP that has been responsible, not the people of China... Lies and propaganda have put millions of lives around the world in danger... In recent years, we have seen an intense crackdown on freedom of expression in China. Lawyers, bloggers, dissidents and civil society activists have been rounded up and have disappeared."

One more person has just disappeared: Ai Fen, a Chinese physician who was head of the emergency department at Wuhan Central Hospital, had worked with the late Dr. Li Wenliang. Ai, who claimed that her bosses silenced her early warnings about coronavirus, appears to have vanished. Her whereabouts, according to 60 Minutes Australia, are unknown. The journalists who saw what happened inside Wuhan have also disappeared. Caixin Global reported that the laboratories which sequenced the coronavirus in December were ordered by Chinese officials to hand over or destroy the samples and not release their findings. "If I had known what was to happen, I would not have cared about the reprimand, I would have fucking talked about it to whoever, where ever I could", Ai Fen said in an interview in March. Those were her last recorded words.

There is no record at all, however, about how this pandemic began. Wet market? A cave full of bats? Pangolins? Or a bio-weapons laboratory? No foreign doctors, journalists, analysts or international observers are present in Wuhan. Why, if the virus came out of a wet market or a cave, did China suppress inquiries to such an extent? Why, in December, did Beijing order Chinese scientists to destroy proof about the virus? Why did Chinese officials claim that US soldiers brought the virus to Wuhan? Why should it be scandalous that a US President calls a virus that began in China a "Chinese virus"?

Who announced on January 11 that Wuhan's wet market was the origin of this epidemic? The Chinese regime. It was later discovered that the first known case of coronavirus traced back to November 17, 2019.

The same Chinese regime later claimed that this coronavirus "may not have originated in China". What respected scientist or institution can now trust anything that comes out of China?

Many leading scientists have dismissed the claim that the Covid-19 virus was an engineered pathogen. This conclusion was seemingly based on the fact that Wuhan has two major virus research labs: the Wuhan Center for Disease Control and Prevention, which is apparently less than a mile from the market, and the Wuhan Institute of Virology, a biosafety level 4 (BSL-4) laboratory, handling the world's most deadly pathogens, located just seven miles from the market. The story was immediately and emphatically trashed as a "conspiracy theory".

Those scientists claim that the virus likely originated among wildlife before spreading to humans, possibly through a food market in Wuhan. They say that, through genetic sequencing, they have identified the culprit for Covid-19 as a bat coronavirus. End of story? Science, thankfully, begins by asking questions and then seeking answers.

Bats were not, it seems, sold at Wuhan's wet market. The Lancet noted in a January study that the first Covid-19 case in Wuhan had no connection to the market. The Lancet's paper, written by Chinese researchers from several institutions, detailed that 13 of the 41 first cases had no link to the market. "That's a big number, 13, with no link," commented Daniel Lucey, an infectious disease specialist at Georgetown University. So how did the epidemic start?

"Now it seems clear that [the] seafood market is not the only origin of the virus, but to be honest we still do not know where the virus came from now", notes Bin Cao, pulmonary specialist at Capital Medical University, and the corresponding author of the Lancet article.

US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo has said that China's Communist Party is withholding information about the coronavirus.

If we do not know, it is necessary be open to all possibilities.

"Less than 300 yards from the seafood market is the Wuhan branch of the Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention" wrote David Ignatius of the Washington Post.

"Researchers from that facility and the nearby Wuhan Institute of Virology have posted articles about collecting bat coronaviruses from around China, for study to prevent future illness. Did one of those samples leak, or was hazardous waste deposited in a place where it could spread?".

"Collecting viruses" presumably does not exclude the possibility of a "leaked virus". Worse, if China is not able to protect its laboratories, it needs to be held accountable and made to pay for the devastating global damage.

"Experts know the new coronavirus is not a bioweapon. They disagree on whether it could have leaked from a research lab", stated The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists. Professor Richard Ebright of Rutgers University's Waksman Institute of Microbiology, and a major biosecurity expert, agreed with the Nature Medicine authors' argument that the coronavirus was not manipulated by humans. But Ebright does think it possible that the Covid-19 started as an accidental leak from a laboratory, such as one of the two in Wuhan, which are known to have been studying bat viruses:

"Virus collection or animal infection with a virus having the transmission characteristics of the outbreak virus would pose substantial risk of infection of a lab worker, and from the lab worker, the public."

Ebright has also claimed that bat coronaviruses are studied in Wuhan at Biosafety Level 2, "which provides only minimal protection" compared with the top BSL-4.

"We don't know what happened, but there are a lot of reasons to believe that this indeed was a release of some sort", China expert Gordon Chang said to Die Weltwoche.

"No one has been able to study it. How can you say it's not a release from a lab if you can't go to the lab? Indeed, we have seen Beijing do its best to prevent virologists and epidemiologists from actually going to Wuhan. The World Health Organization team went to Wuhan for like half a day with only part of the team."

That is another major problem. The potential major investigator of the Wuhan coronavirus pandemic's origin, the World Health Organization (WHO), is now accused of being "China's coronavirus' accomplice". As late as January 14, the WHO quoted Chinese health officials claiming there had been no human transmissions of the coronavirus within the country yet.

China poses a biosecurity risks for the entire planet. One year before the first coronavirus case was identified in Wuhan, US Customs and Border Protection agents at Detroit Metro Airport stopped a Chinese biologist with three vials labeled "Antibodies" in his luggage. According to an unclassified FBI tactical intelligence report obtained by Yahoo News:

"Inspection of the writing on the vials and the stated recipient led inspection personnel to believe the materials contained within the vials may be viable Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS) and Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) materials."

Why is China trafficking in dangerous viruses in the first place?

According to Yanzhong Huang, a senior fellow for Global Health at the Council on Foreign Relations:

"A safety breach at a Chinese Center for Disease Control and Prevention lab is believed to have caused four suspected SARS cases, including one death, in Beijing in 2004. A similar accident caused 65 lab workers of Lanzhou Veterinary Research Institute to be infected with brucellosis in December 2019. In January 2020, a renowned Chinese scientist, Li Ning, was sentenced to 12 years in prison for selling experimental animals to local markets".

In February, Botao Xiao and Lei Xiao, from Guangzhou's South China University of Technology, wrote in a research paper:

"In addition to origins of natural recombination and intermediate host the killer coronavirus probably originated from a laboratory in Wuhan. Safety level [sic] may need to be reinforced in high risk biohazardous laboratories".

Xiao later told the Wall Street Journal that he had withdrawn the paper because it "was not supported by direct proofs".

Chinese laboratory mistakes have happened before. By 2010, researchers published as fact: "The most famous case of a released laboratory strain is the re-emergent H1N1 influenza-A virus which was first observed in China in May of 1977 and in Russia shortly thereafter". The virus may have escaped from a lab attempting to prepare a vaccine in response to the U.S. swine flu pandemic alert.

In 1999 the most senior defector in the US from the Soviet biological warfare program, Ken Alibek, revealed that Soviet officials concluded that China had suffered a serious accident at one of its secret biological plants, causing two major epidemics of fever that had swept China in the late 1980s. "Our analysts", Alibek stated in his book, Biohazard, "concluded that they were caused by an accident in a lab where Chinese scientists were weaponizing viral diseases".

In 2004, the World Health Organization disclosed that the latest outbreak of "severe acute respiratory syndrome" (SARS) in China involved two researchers who were working with the virus in a Beijing research lab. The WHO denounced Chinese breaches of safety procedures, and director of the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, Li Liming, resigned. Science magazine also stated that "for the third time in less than a year, an outbreak of SARS seems to have originated from a failure in laboratory containment".

Moreover, three years ago, when China opened the laboratory in Wuhan, Tim Trevan, a Maryland biosafety specialist, told Nature that he worried about the safety of the building because "structures where everyone feels free to speak up and openness of information are important." Free speech and open information: exactly what Chinese regime fought against in December and January.

A Chinese video about a key researcher in Wuhan, Tian Junhua, which was released a few weeks before the outbreak in Wuhan, shows Chinese researchers handling bats that contained viruses. In the video (produced by China Science Communication, run by the China Association for Science and Technology), Tian says:

"I am not a doctor, but I work to cure and save people... I am not a soldier, but I work to safeguard an invisible national defense line".

Tian is also reported as having said:

"I can feel the fear: the fear of infections and the fear of getting lost. Because of the fear, I take every step extremely cautiously. The more scared I feel, the more care I take in executing every detail. Because the process of you finding the viruses is also when you can be exposed to them the easiest. I do hope these virus samples will only be preserved for scientific research and will never be used in real life".

For a month, the Chinese Communist Party, instead of fighting the contagion, did everything possible to censor all information about the Covid-19 outbreak. After President Xi Jinping declared "a people's war" on the epidemic on January 20, Chinese security services pursued 5,111 cases of "fabricating and deliberately disseminating false and harmful information". The Chinese Human Rights Defenders documented several types of punishment, including detention, disappearance, fines, interrogations, forced confessions and "educational reprimand".

After that, China lied about the real number of deaths. There are photographs of long lines of stacked urns greeting family members of the dead at funeral homes in Wuhan. Outside one funeral home, trucks shipped in 2,500 urns. According to Chinese official figures, 2,548 people in Wuhan have died of the Covid-19. According to an analysis by Radio Free Asia, seven funeral homes in Wuhan were each handing out 500 funeral urns containing remains for 12 days, from March 23 to the traditional tomb-sweeping festival of April 5, a time that would indicate up to 42,000 urns, or ten times higher than the official figure.

In February, it was reported that Wuhan crematoriums were working around the clock to cope with the massive influx of infected bodies. Wuhan's officials are apparently pushing relatives of the victims to bury the dead "quickly and quietly".

"Natural virus" does not exclude its fallout from a laboratory where pathogens are collected and studied. The Nature Medicine authors "leave us where we were before: with a basis to rule out [a coronavirus from] a lab construct, but no basis to rule out a lab accident", Professor Ebright commented.

"Debate may rage over which center it is, but at this point it seems undeniable that a center has been directly involved with research on viruses, although not necessarily on the creation of a virus" wrote Father Renzo Milanese, a longtime Catholic missionary in Hong Kong.

"In other words, the virus passed from a research center in Wuhan early on. More importantly there is also no question that the authorities were aware of the dangerousness of the virus, that they did not inform anyone and that they tried to keep the facts hidden".

US Senator Josh Hawley has introduced a resolution calling for an international investigation into China's handling of the spread of the virus. According to Hawley:

"The Chinese Communist Party was aware of the reality of the virus as early as December but ordered laboratories to destroy samples and forced doctors to keep silent. It is time for an international investigation into the role their cover-up played in the spread of this devastating pandemic".

Admitting a fault, as the Japanese did after the Fukushima nuclear accident in 2011, might be one way for a country to be accepted again by the international community. Censoring, denying and covering up, as China is doing, will not.

"China claims that the deadly virus did not escape from its biolab," said a China specialist with the Population Research Institute, Steven W. Mosher. "Fine. Prove it by releasing the research records of the Wuhan lab".

#politics #news

27 notes · View notes

thechroniclesofdaraliss · 5 years

Text

100 Mutants & Masterminds Session Ideas (Part IV)

It’s been a while since the last list. The chaos of living one life as a civilian and the other as a vigilante is always a balancing act. But here we are, another 100 ideas for all your superhero adventures! Whether you defend a small neighborhood or the entire planet, there should be something here for everyone. If you like what I do, please like, comment, or reblog. So let’s grab our massively overpriced vehicles and take call all our partners in crime-fighting, and take to the skies for another day of heroism!

You investigate a series of robberies and discover that the party behind it is a matriarchal clan where crime is the family business.

B-rank heroes are trying to take on your enemies so they get status. But in the end, they’re endangering more lives than they’re saving.

Prominent meta-humans are being sent invitations to play a game on an island where their skills will be tested. They must complete the objectives, and get the highest score to win. The catch? Some of the objectives involve killing other participants.

Someone is orchestrating tragedy for heroes, knowing that they will become powerful meta-humans. But what does this person have in mind for them once they reach their full potential?

A catatonic billionaire uses everything in his power to find a body suitable for his devious mind. This includes his money, technology, and criminal connections.

A series of magical books have been stolen, each one belonging to one of the foremost sorcerers in Earth’s history. But when put together, they will unlock a codex that will either unleash an evil creature, or bind it again for another 10,000 years.

A foreboding alien ship is hovering over the world’s largest cities, but does not destroy them. Instead, it’s sucking energy out of them. You must stop it before it leaves the world in darkness.

A villain is terrorizing the city by infusing common items with poisonous substances. He challenges you to crack the code and save the city.

A team of heroes calls for your help in taking down a mutual enemy.

A league of villains forms to take down your team.

Disaster strikes (bridge collapse, burning building, etc) and you have no way of getting your super suit in time. You must find a way to save the civilians without blowing your cover.

A new set of meta-humans hit the streets and are using their unusual abilities to reek havoc. No particle accelerator explosions or toxic waste disasters have been recorded, so you need to find out how these powers originated, and how they are being transferred.

A city-wide cryogenic freezing has occurred. With everyone motionless, the villains will be able to judge the wicked and preserve the innocent. Everyone is at their mercy, except your team.

A monstrous being has emerged, but they don’t seem capable of harming anything. The government insists on recollecting it, but it fears what will happen when it is brought back. You must aid in this beings capture or escape. Both will prove difficult.

A new power source has emerged that can imbue people with life and power beyond measure. The only downside is that they are written out of existence.

A meta-human has the power of cellular regeneration. While he hoped to use it for healing, the villains want to use it to form weapons, making the cells take in an infinite number of forms.

Someone has replicated the event granting you superpowers, and is trying to take your place. They will stop at nothing until you’re replaced, dead, or otherwise incapable of resuming your duty as a hero.

An alien crash—lands on your planet and requests your help in reassembling it’s spacecraft. It says it must escape its intergalactic pursuers, but refuses to tell you why. You must either turn the alien in to humans, turn it in to its pursuers, or help it escape.

After saving children from a natural disaster, you unleash a mythical creature that is hell bent on destruction.

A cannibal is on the loose in your city, and for every person he feeds off of, the more enhanced his powers become.

Someone has perfected the genetic code in a plant (or animal) species. With it, they will be able to cause infertility and systematically cause extinction of crops, species, perhaps even humanity!

A criminal empire is growing too fast to fight the old-fashioned way. So instead of a fight in the streets, you have to go undercover to take down their biggest operations.

When one of your teammates falls ill, and conventional medicine fails, you will have to use unconventional methods to cure them. You will have to shrink yourself to cellular size and take down the illness at its source.

Terrorists have demanded that the heroes reveal their secret identities to the world, or they will kill ten innocent people every week.

A legendary hacker has died, claiming that he has developed a universal hack, codenamed “Skeleton Key.” Whoever finds it first gets to keep it, and the clues are all throughout your city to find it.

A hero goes to great lengths to remove their powers. Their continued existence as a full-time hero is destroying their relationships. But the supposed cure is a trap to kill them.

The mob’s greatest hitman turns out to be a child. After saving him/her from a disaster, it turns out they had planned the whole thing to bring you in.

A mysterious new gang surfaces at the same time a new a mayoral prospect arrives in the city. Is the whole thing a coincidence, or a devious scheme?

The ancient Gods are holding a conference in your city. They plan to decide whether or not to finally unleash the apocalypse. Until they make a decision, they will pit you against some of the most vicious and powerful creatures ever made.

A villain has designs on demolishing the entire civilized world so humanity will die out and natural order will be restored. Only the strong will survive as the wilderness dominates the landscape, and mutants become gods.

A mysterious entity lands in your city. But when you investigate, it’s a humanoid Figure with no memory of who they are or where they come from. You must find out why, and if they’re a threat.

A man has gained superpowers, and elects to take revenge on the people that tormented him in high school, and ultimately killed his family. Subdue this mutant and either teach him to use his powers for good, or turn him in.

Explosives have been placed on every entrance and exit to your city. Nothing goes in, and nothing goes out. This is the perfect opportunity for the villain behind it to declare himself supreme ruler of the metropolis.

One of your most prominent villains has recently gained a massive inheritance. You’re convinced they’ll use it for crime, but their actual usage surprises you. They clean up the streets (so they can take it over later).

The promising new brain-training clinic is actually a twisted experiment to drive people crazy. By overloading the mind, it’s possible that psychic abilities will be unlocked. While this does work in some, it’s disastrous for others.

Someone is rewriting the memories of the people they capture. Rebels are suddenly obedient, children forget their homes, and heroes are becoming villains. Find the pattern, and discover a lead back to who is altering these people’s minds.

A reclusive aristocrat has called for the help of your team. A terrible curse has been placed on him for as far back as he can remember, and it is now spiraling out of control. All born from an artifact owned by his family for generations. He’s tried to destroy it, but it’s only harmed him in response. Discover what this malevolent force is, and vanquish it.

People are going missing across the city. Only it’s not regular missing persons, they vanish out of thin air.

Mutants have gathered from all over the world to discuss their rights as mutants when most have treated them as monsters and outcasts. Many call for the destruction of humans, but some hold out hope. That is, until a riot ensues and kills five mutants in cold blood.

An omega-level mutant has flown across the sky of a major city and declared war on humanity. He calls for all his fellow mutants to either stand by him or perish. While this may be localized to once city, his ambition led carry to other cities. Perhaps your own.

A natural disaster has forced all of your city’s civilians into safety shelters. Once they’re inside, the villain will infuse the shelter air vents with cyanide. His enemy, be it the populace, or a group within it, will perish.

A band of young and powerful meta-humans are tearing up America as they leave every town they cross scared, robbed, or destroyed. One of their members is picked up by your team, and he wants to stop them. He knows their weaknesses, but it will still require a team on par with them to win.

A villain has been terrorizing the world for centuries, yet his presence has always remained hidden. But now that his operations been stopped by you again, he will reveal himself and accept the challenge of killing you. A ruthless criminal mastermind who has replaced his body with soulless machinery.

Aliens invade your planet, only their arrival is not malicious in nature. They are stopping here because their armada has been demolished, and they were look for reinforcements to take down a far greater evil. And since your planet is rich with meta-humans, you are the perfect allies.

A shape-changing entity has arrived in your world that will achieve invincibility when it collects all nine artifacts it is hunting for.

An entity has entered the dream world, and is trapping all of the world’s children into experiencing the perfect dream. One they don’t want to wake up from. He hopes to harness the collective unconscious of humanity’s children and become all-powerful.

A maniac obsessed with immortality is taking people off the street and using them in an experiment to extend human lifespans. You try to stop him, but those that survive insist on helping him.

Your latest trophy from crime fighting is a bug to discover your team’s secret lair. With this information, the villain who was put away will have his second in command attack you when you’re at your most vulnerable.

A massive fortune is left behind by a man who enjoys playing sadistic games. His last will and testament is that his entire fortune goes to whoever finds it. You must use your team’s resources and find the money before your enemies do. With so much on the line, all of your enemies could be in the running!

A corrupt cop is tormenting meta-humans no matter what their affiliations. His status under the law makes him untouchable by criminals, and he intimidates his colleagues into submission. You must bring him to justice when the law and underworld won’t touch him.

A new kind of competition has emerged for meta-humans: Hero Olympics. Complete with obstacle courses, team battles, and all manner of organized heroics, it’s the perfect place to exhibit your skills. It’s also ample opportunity to commit a crime.

The next holy war has been confirmed. Only this time, it’s the “Holy Knights” of Humanity against all meta-humans.

The mastermind behind all the city’s crimes has declared war on your team. He has demolished your headquarters, and or a price on your head that’s so high, civilians are gunning for you.

A villain is collecting a vast assortment of arcane relics, each with a different ability. Once all of them are gathered, he believes he will become the supreme ruler of the cosmos. But really, he will become the lapdog to the creator of the relics.

A terrible tragedy (war zone, act of terrorism, outbreak of a deadly disease) has been looped by an unknown entity. If you are to escape this nightmarish scenario, you’ll have to prevent it from happening in the first place.

You have been captured by your enemies. They have you in their clutches, and are about to unmask you when you and your team manage to escape. But as you try and leave, you discover you’re in the headquarters of your enemies. Its labyrinthine design keeps you trapped in a sadistic game of cat and mouse.

An anarchist at the head of an underground organization has called out for the elimination of heroes, only he doesn’t want to take their lives, he wants to take away their powers...permanently.

A zealot of an ancient religion has gained the power to convene with spirits. After communicating with them, he has concluded that if the earth is on the brink of destruction, he will be able to merge with a cosmic being responsible for the formation of the universe.

A powerful elemental villain is planning to make the entrain the entire city with their element (perpetual heat wave, relentless blizzard, carnivorous jungle, etc). With such an intense source of energy, they will be able to expand their influence exponentially across the country, perhaps the world.

An unconventional mob war hits the streets. A mob boss has been killed by his second in command, in the hopes of usurping his seat of power. But shortly after this, his spirit emerged and becomes the leader of a whole new underworld. The living and dead of your city engage ins turf war, and you have to stop it before civilians get caught in the crossfire.

The latest exhibit in a museum has been stolen. You track down the thief, and discover that they are of alien origin. They claim that this artifact was “entrusted” to humanity, but is actually a pocket dimensional prison, containing some of the universe’s most vicious intergalactic criminals. It is scheduled to release them all to conquer earth, a planet seen as low-priority. Survivors will be given a full pardon of their crimes as well, free to rule earth as a sovereign nation once it’s been conquered.

The Earth is drawing alien objects into its gravitational pull, and shattering them to form rings on par with Saturn.

A group of tech-savvy teens are using special effects technology to rob people as they pass through the woods, and they gradually expand their racket into the city. But as you advance on their “territory” they reveal a few tricks to put meta-humans in their place.

You intercept a drug den, only to find that the Lotus Eaters have lulled its inhabitants into a state of bliss. You must find a way to save the drugged humans from their trance.

A hidden civilization has intercepted your team. They hope to use them as their guardians in exchange for protection from the surface world. The catch is that you can never return to your home. Find a way to escape.

A cult of corrupt magic users plans to use human sacrifices to resurrect an ancient entity. Only when he is finally revived, his intentions differ with that of the people who summoned him.

Someone is removing select organs from a handful of human targets. Some believe it to be a serial killer collecting trophies, but you’re certain there’s more to it. Someone trying to replicate human beings, replacement parts, or an attempt to save a loved one.

A child approached your team, intent on finding a long-lost parent. When a picture of them is shown, you recognize them as one of the most powerful heroes of your time. You must find out who this child is, how they don’t know their identity already, and how to help them.

The city has become host to a massive array of holograms. When a registered hero touches one, it provides a set of holograms to challenge your skills. Is it a corporation’s challenge, a tech-wizard’s prank, or a distraction for a heist?

A sentient collection of antimatter beings possessing animals, objects, and people to fight humanity. They are revealed to be planet-consuming entities that fester like bacteria in the wounds they create on the planet’s surface. Their end goal is to encapsulate the whole planet in their festering influence until they form a massive new entity the size of earth.

Heroes have gathered in secret to discuss disturbing movements of an old villain’s movements. But this is impossible, as this villain died fifty years ago.

A creature has been captured by the villains, and they plan to use it to steal buildings by tunneling beneath the city.

A school for superheroes is being developed, and the heroes and politicians of your city are backing its development. However, many of its students need guidance, experience, and protection. Perhaps you can supply all three.

A nomadic biker gang has declared war on heroes. They are armed with anti-mutant weaponry, and seem to have limitless funding. You suspect there’s more at work, but you must defeat them first.

A band of heroes have gone rogue and are fighting against the law. Their leader has fallen off the radar, while his partners reek havoc. You are tasked with discovering why they went off on their own, and bringing them in by any means necessary.

One of your most formidable villains has recruited a meta-human child that lost his family as a result of one of your heroic exploits. The child has no way of coping with what he’s lost, and so the villain “guides” him to get revenge on you.

A villain has kidnapped the world’s foremost scientific minds to rebuild the earth from scratch. He plans on gathering all the world’s species, and preserving them in a spaceship while releasing a nerve gas throughout the planet. Once the dust settled, the world will be his for the remaking.

An Elder evil is released when it is thawed from any icy prison in the arctic. Most think it means to destroy the earth, but it’s really looking to reclaim something it lost.

Children are going missing every night and there is no sign of a struggle in their homes.

A hero plans to marry his love interest, only to have the villain come in and threaten to destroy the chapel if she doesn’t marry him instead.

A prophecy of doom looms over your city, and soon plagues begin to demolish the metropolis. Is it a supernatural force at work, or a mad scientist scaring everyone away?

A series of doors open to different parts of the world, each leading to a great evil to overcome (monster, criminal operation, etc). Is this the work of a hero trying to vanquish evil, or a villain trying to eliminate the competition?

You discover a strange life form that’s a hybrid of nature and technology. The purpose of this anomaly is unknown to you, but it seems intent on breaking out of its container and mingle with the soil.

Meta-humans are disappearing all over the city. Some from home, some from prison. You attempt to track them down, but it seems they’re being rescued and sent through a program called the Railroad to freedom from human society.

Meta-humans are being sent to labor at a camp while their families are forced to live under the tyrannical rule of the mastermind behind the abductions and his meta-human enforcers.

A scientist attempts to revive his deceased wife using a combination of black magic and scientific formula. But what he brings back is one of the deadliest foes your team has ever faced.

The latest milestone in military technology is anti-mutant battle-suits to be worn by soldiers. Little for their buyers know that they are meant to kill heroes as well as villains.

The team is placed in a hunting ground where they are being sought out by a hunter of legendary reputation. If you manage to kill or capture your pursuer before he does so to you, you will be free to leave.

A hero has fallen to the side of villainy. You must decide whether to turn them back to the die of good, or turn them into the law.

Someone is trying to combine the genetic code of mythical creatures (vampires and werewolves, hydras and dragons, elves and humans). But that’s end results prove to be more volatile than expected.

A villain has unlocked his psychic powers to such a degree that he can carve out his own little piece of the world and gather inhabitants for his world by rendering them comatose in reality.

A group of vampires are attempting to resurrect their elders to lead them into a new age. You must decide whether to let the coven live, and escape authorities, or to destroy their chances at starting new and causing more destruction.

A member of the villain’s ranks has defected, but has requested sanctuary for him and his family. If you pull it off, he will give you the rest of your enemies on a silver platter.

A paranoid mob boss has put up a fortress in the middle of your city, with entire buildings bought off and filled with armed guards and assassins. You must find a way to bring him to justice before his aircraft arrives on the roof and takes him out of the Justice System forever.

Villains are gathering from all over the world at a castle in one of the wildest and least-known portions of the world. You must go there and find out what they’re planning. If you can take them on and beat them in combat, that’s just a bonus.

You enter a Necromancer’s tomb only to find that it has been carved in the bowels of the earth to stretch for miles. Complete with undead guards, dark magic traps, and the ability to turn fallen heroes into recruits for defense.

A behemoth has been loosed in the city. Find a way to subdue it without causing the civilians and city more harm.

Spoof heroes and villains begin cropping up like weeds. While some see their exploits as comedic, it’s encouraging others to take to the hero and villain life without realizing the consequences.

A group of crazed killers have had their minds transferred to robotic bodies. They are able to strike at humans without need of food, water, or rest. All they have to do for the mastermind in turn is to kill targets he chooses first.

An “Underworld Gate” has opened above your city. This occurs once every 100 years, and always marks the site of a massacre, disaster, or genocide. You must find a way to close the gate and save everyone residing in your city.

#the chronicles of daraliss #Mutants and Masterminds #superheroes #rpg #100 ideas #100 session ideas

10 notes · View notes

themockingcrows · 4 years

Text

Pieces In The Game Ch. 1

JohnDave This chapter is SFW cw: blood and violence This chapter available on my AO3!

Trapped in a gladiatorial combat game without control of his own body, Dave must rely on his player to control his movements and win his freedom. John, a bit of a prodigy with video games, is his player and recently has come to the realization of just how intense these games really are. Without knowing who is on either end of the controls, is it possible for one friend to win the other's freedom? Or will they all just wind up pawns in the end?

It was a dangerous life, and if Dave had a choice he never would have gotten involved in it. Nobody with a shred of sanity would want this life. Most fighters didn’t live very long, relying solely on their controllers to translate their own abilities into motion, giving up their bodily control for the sake of overdrive. The only ways out were death, or to win and get to retire... But it all came down to how talented their controllers were in the heat of battle. The modern gladiatorial games were the cutting edge of science and gaming technology with a wildly successful gambling edge to it, the characters made of pixels replaced with flesh and blood, and the stakes made far higher. The newest and greatest in blood and gore, with a cult following the world over.

While most of the competitors were criminals, Dave was not. He knew he’d been scammed into this, must have pissed off the wrong person with his outspoken distaste for the current regime in charge online, but he’d never gotten a chance to find out who or how for certain. Even now, during the downtime when he wasn’t fighting, he couldn’t find out. His access to his old social media accounts and bank accounts were blocked, but he was free to make fresh and indulge in online life as he pleased. ...Within limits of course. Some phrases couldn’t make it past the censors, as well as some topics, caught automatically by the system and rejected, left unposted or unsent. Everything else? Fair game.

He’d learned to work with codes to try singling out other fighters, or people who currently had thoughts against the Condesce and her family, phrases and changed letters signifying freedom in new and different ways that the censors couldn’t keep up with. It was a small window, but a comforting one. He could leave messages this way, leave a trail, even if to the outside it looked like nothing. A legacy was left in his social media ramblings, waiting for someone to understand them who could enact change.

This bit of freedom was why Dave was able to have some semblance of friends online, and got to learn more about them, as well as be able to play videogames of his own… though he was more picky about what he played, usually opting for things as far removed from his own reality as possible. Farming simulators and games dealing with run and fetch missions brought hours of entertainment to him compared to other prisoners who enjoyed playing games of warfare and battle. Another keen interest of his was games involving skill that he could break, going out of bounds or glitching the character in unimaginable ways. It gave him hope that someday, somehow, he’d figure out how to ‘glitch’ himself and leave the confines of his prison.

It’s not like he was missing much by avoiding the war and fighting games. In here their own abilities didn’t really matter, it’s not like they could learn techniques from those games. The players? They could. But the pieces were just there to go to the limits of their bodies and hope they didn’t get assigned to a newbie. ...Or if they were assigned to a newbie, praying that the person in question, whoever they were, were absolutely baller at the game itself.

With his emails answered, Dave worked on feeding his digital flock while checking in with his friends in the other window. Rose was talking about a new knitting project for her girlfriend, someone who was pretty attractive if Dave could say so based on pictures she’d shared in the past. Jade was going off about some kind of physics thing that Dave couldn’t track, but occasionally she’d stop and talk about game engines. Dave was pretty sure she designed new gaming technology, new virtual reality tools and force feedback things as opposed to the units that he dealt with every fight. Pretty sure she wasn’t the type of person to be that into things being embedded into human bodies, or at least he hoped. Not like he could give her feedback even if she did, thanks to the censors.

Then there was John, who despite being the most open of the group, was the least understood. He’d talk about this game or another, sometimes joining Dave and the others for a relaxing game where they could gather resources and build things together, other times just rambling about competitions. He seemed the type to collect cards too, based on how seriously he talked about it, and seemed the type to win at a decent rate. Yet as often as he talked about games, he talked very little about himself or his home life aside from the occasional ‘my mom’s calling I’ve got to go’.

Dave wondered if he knew much about the piece games he was involved in, or knew how they worked. Not that he’d get recognized anywhere with the helmets everyone wore, but it was still a strange connection to think about. What if any of them knew he was in here? Would they treat him like a run of the mill prisoner, or someone bad? Or would they treat him like a victim of the system, forced to run in the wheels to stay alive in the machine?

...Dave lost his urge to play with his chickens, and once Belle and Henrietta and the others were fed, held, and put back in to avoid the next game day’s rain, he disconnected from online and got up to pace. Pacing helped. It helped to settle his racing thoughts, his worries, the stress. Pacing and working out, though he knew better than to do too much of that in the wrong way. Too much and he’d bulk up and be slower, too little and he wouldn’t be strong enough even with overdrive initiated, and any outside of his cell in the yard would just be a cause for infighting and more reason for people to try ganging up on him.

Winning multiple times in a row tended to put a target on one’s back, and Dave knew his spine was painted with the red of his victories in a nice big bullseye for everyone’s focus to be drawn to, so he tended to keep his head down and not react when provoked. It was safer. It was easier. It was the only way to be ready to keep going forward if he wanted to keep winning with his player.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John had been playing games competitively for years, but he’d never played a game quite like this before. The controls to the humans bodies unleashed that untapped potential in some amazing ways, but the character that he’d been assigned as the player of had a few quirks. For one, he was the fastest thing John had ever seen in his life, hard to keep track of as if he phased in and out of reality in a blur when really pressed. For another, his reaction times and response times were through the roof. It was like he’d been born to be a piece on the board.

Every time he won, John received some prize money and accolades, though as the wins racked up, so did his curiosity. Who was behind that helmet? ...Did they like being a piece? Were they treated well when not on the board? Were they okay?

He’d never bothered with such concerns before. Being his mother’s son, he’d developed a bit of a streak for nihilism to get by, and everyone’s losses were just another game to him. That is, till a recent win had sprayed blood back on the feedback receiver and the piece died a slow death instead of the quick one he’d been expecting as the ultimate loss. Sometimes they were just incapacitated and could come back for another try, but other times killing blows happened. His swordsman piece was intensely powerful and he wasn’t afraid to use him till that second.

Now, John found himself second guessing the game entirely. They weren’t even able to scream when in pain, weren’t able to call it quits on their own. Broken bones or not, they could be pushed to the breaking point all over again at the hands of their controller, so long as their body could keep up under the strain. It looked like torture, he started to realize, not just some act. What kind of a life was that to live?

He’d asked about buying the freedom of his piece before, knowing his mother would agree if he plied her just right, wore his best bow tie and smiled as brightly as he could after doing some bonding activity or another with her, but rules were rules and not even the son of the regime leader could bend them once in place. If one could be bought out, they all could, and where would the games be then? The pieces remained where they were.

If he couldn’t get this person out illegally, then he decided he’d just need to win legally, and then see what they were like. Maybe plan for when he was older and more capable of fighting against his mother’s wishes to change the rules that were in place that no longer seemed fair.

John spent a lot of his time playing war games, battle games, fighting games, anything with intense combos and a reward and punishment system for fuckups, trying to hone his own reaction times so he’d be more useful for his piece. It was stressful, though. So stressful now that he knew the true weight of what hung over him. That’s why there was always time to wind down with his friends and play low stress games, farming sims and cooperative fantasy games that were mostly hunt and fetch. Everyone seemed to be into that kind of game, but Dave seemed to like them the most. He was always the first to volunteer to play, or was already playing on his own.

Sometimes John wondered what Dave got up to when he wasn’t online, it seemed like he was always there whenever John was. Oh.. maybe he didn’t have many friends? Aside from Rose and Jade and himself, who were all fairly busy people, maybe there wasn’t anyone else who could really play with him or talk with him or keep him company.

John knew how that felt.

Growing up as his mother’s son, he’d been lonesome in a lot of ways. People were either intimidated by him or pitied him, scared of the Crocker name and reputation that reached the world over. The Condesce was not to be trifled with, and her family was Perfect in ways that humans weren’t meant to be by sheer repetition and force. Perfection was expected, if not demanded, and John was… happy to comply.

That sure was one way to put it.

John diluted his stress through the games that took skill and timing to better deal with his home life, though now that he knew the truth about the piece game he played, the stress was rekindled in new ways. He didn’t have to be good enough for his mother anymore, he had to be good enough for her and good enough for the swordsman he controlled to keep him alive.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was a game set for today, and Dave’s number came up. He spent the morning getting ready, making his usual posts on social media, stretching, eating breakfast and taking the first dose of medication that would relax his muscles and further attune him to the implanted receiver that rested against his back that would be plugged into the suit. He said hi to his friends like it was any other normal day, though John wasn’t around. Lately that had been a pattern that kind of sucked: any time it was a game day for Dave, there was a 50-50 chance John wouldn’t be around. He couldn’t say goodbye to any of them, not really, without being able to explain his situation… but it was still comforting to be around them whenever he could. Missing one of them was like an ache in his stomach.

No matter. There were bigger issues at hand.

Dave showered and put the plug suit on in his prep room, form fitting and designed for minimal armor, and adjusted the neck till he felt the receiver and the main plug connect and slip into place. Wired up, Dave sat down to put on his boots, high to the knee and laced tight, and then checked on his sword.

He hated the damned thing, but it’s what he was most attuned to already. It had been replaced a few times by now, sometimes breaking in the moment in older fights, or getting chips put into the metal from hitting the other players bone or armor or weapon head on. This new model was flawless, metal holding an iridescent sheen to it, weight good in his hands. His brother would probably love it, if he were still around.

...No. He’d probably hate it. Even with all the pimping out, his brother’s sword was still better, and he was still bitter about what they’d done to him. No amount of shine could polish that murder out of his mind.

With a soft whoosh sound, Dave felt the first relays acting up, signaling it was time to get ready and reach the main area. The players were prepared. Slipping on his helmet and cinching it in place, Dave took up his sword and waited by the door for it to open, releasing him to the main waiting area with other pieces. Some had hammers, others had lances or bow staffs, different weapons here and there. It really was like being in a video game, the uncomfortable flux of reality and game being all the more overpowering here.

They all reacted at the same time to the tone over a loudspeaker, the signal that the first connection burst was coming, stinging along their nerves like fire from head to toe till they almost dropped to the ground. The second burst was lighter, a relief to the body, freeing them from control. They didn’t have to think about their actions anymore. Everything was out off their hands at this point, left up to the unseen controller, the player in control of each piece guiding them forward in a procession to the arena and taking their pre-destined places. Dave’s was near the inner edge of the arena, closer to the middle that signaled the final battle to be won: if he got to go to the middle, and withstood the onslaught, he would be freed.

He couldn’t recall the last person who’d made it out that way, but he wondered if they were doing okay with their freedom. With their new life.

Dave found himself bouncing foot to foot soon enough, taking practice swings with his sword as his controller warmed up and prepared. Same controller, then. He did this every time before a fight, making sure the reaction times were up to snuff, making sure there were no latent issues before a match began. The red light above Dave turned yellow, and the bouncing of his body stopped, his stance lowering, one arm lifting like something out of an anime. ...What kind of a nerd was his controller, this was almost embarrassing.

Green light, and Dave was running full force ahead, hunting the first target.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John was hooked up and prepared, gloves on his hands, visor over his eyes, and controls ready to be activated by hand or foot. He could hear the commentator giving live descriptions, and tried to tune him out. Anything he was describing had already happened, was too late, was pointless to focus on. A distraction. All John needed was his shared sight with the piece, the weight of the glove on his hands, and a reminder of just how much drag the sword had.

Combos were easier to execute with hands and feet, making the piece jump and slash, rebound, then spring towards another target almost faster than the commentator could track. Blood sprayed, reddening his vision, but it didn’t stop him. The only thing on John’s mind was combos, and avoiding being hit. Yeah, being hit wouldn’t stop him immediately… but it would slow his piece down considerably, and cause problems in general. Since coming to the realization that the pieces were living breathing people, since having the realization he was controlling a human’s life or death, John had become all the more ruthless.

He couldn’t save everyone but damn it he could try to save one of them, and he’d do everything he could to do that.

Breathing slowly, John counted down in his head as another target approached, swinging a large weapon wildly. One, zip close when the weapon was pulled back. Two, attack the torso. Three, attack the back before using it to spring free and away. Four, flee the area entirely, come back to finish them off later if needs be. They wouldn’t be much of an issue anymore either way. Cleanup was just for extra points and guarantees, but points didn’t matter in this game. Not really. The point were more there for the gamblers and the people trying to gauge odds at home. Staying alive was what mattered.

Another enemy came from the left, fast enough that John had to jump back to avoid the lance. A spurt of speed however, and he was running up the weapon at an angle, slashing for the helmet and shoulder of the user, leaping off in a tuck and roll flip when they started to go down.

John raced his piece around the center of the arena, sizing up a third target, taking the initiative this time. While they were busy with someone up front, he rushed up and stabbed through their middle from behind, blood pouring over his hands. The grip on the sword stayed true, however, cutting a deep angle into the body before withdrawing and slicking blood off down the blood groove thanks to a flick and some gravity. It left him face front with the piece the former had been fighting, who luckily hesitated before trying to do something complex.

John stabbed the sword down to ground himself and turned, aiming a harsh kick at the twisting midair figure, then followed through by grabbing the sword and slicing with a full body’s worth of momentum as he turned. Off went the competitors arm, and down went John to one knee to recuperate for a moment.

He’d pushed the piece’s body pretty hard, and knew all the blood was probably not great for their psyche, but what could he do! The best that could be done was to rest for a moment, let him catch his breath before going to pick over who was left till the number was low enough t-

The green lights turned red, signaling the end of the round, and John blinked.

Oh. Well then. Guess he was more thorough than anticipated.

Slowly, John got the piece back up to his feet and walked him to the waiting area where control would be disconnected. He kept the helmet on till last, wanting to catch a few more glimpses of his player character from the outside as he removed his gloves and finally the visor. Sound regained meaning to him again, as suddenly a microphone was placed in front of his mouth, the announcer wanting a few words from his victory.

“John, you’ve just placed first again in an unprecedented victory! Do you have any words for the fans at home?” asked the smooth talking fellow, his clothes too flashy, too bright for what had just happened. He’d just ended people’s lives with his own hands, made someone else kill people with their hands, bathed someone in their blood, and this jackass wanted to know what he thought?

Oh he thought plenty. ...But John knew his mother was watching, and if his mother was watching then he had to continue to be the good boy she knew and expected. He propped up a smile, bright and normal and perfectly balanced. Perfectly rehearsed.

“Well, darn, it’s not like it’s hard to do this. Just need to remember the right combos and have a feel for your piece,” he chuckled, giving a little wave.

“You heard it here first, folks! In his fifth victory, all you need to do is know how to play the game and you’ll win. Wise words from an excellent player, and wise actions from the son of our very own Condesce,” the announcer tutted, amused by the boyish words.

John remained on site for a while, answering questions and dealing with the bitter but good sportsmanlike handshakes from his competitors. They didn’t really seem to have the same worries John did. Their pieces had died, and the most they were upset about was losing, not that someone was dead. Not that multiple someones were dead. Not that more people would die the next week and the week after that, and the next time they came in to play they’d be involved in more bloodshed. None of it seemed to bother them, to touch them in the slightest.

When he was free to go back to his home, back to his room, he took his nauseated self to the lavish bathroom and turned on the shower as hot as he could handle it. Dinner would be delivered to his quarters later, since he usually ate in his room after games, but he wasn’t sure how much of it he’d really eat. Enough to keep his mother off his back and others from asking questions, at least.

Off went John’s clothes and his glasses in the steamy room before he entered the shower and sat down, letting the water run over him steadily. He watched his hands, flexed his fingers, and tried to remember the weight of the gloves. Tried to imagine how it would feel if he were the piece holding the sword instead of the controller. Tried to imagine what color his piece’s eyes were aside from the electric blue that signaled John’s control.

What did he look like? What was his name? How old was he? The helmet left so many questions, and though the armor gave pretty clear outlines to the body, it was hard to tell many details beyond general shape. His piece was slender and had lean muscle, was average height, and had long limbs and strong fingers. Controlling a sword felt natural with these controls. And then there was the strange speed… How could he even manage that? Even with the body modifications from the connection, even with the body being pushed to maximum, that speed was almost terrifying.

John slicked his hair back and reached up for one of the expensive shampoos from the edge of the tub, scrubbing his hair while he sat to make the most of his sulking. He eventually stood up and washed the rest of himself, rinsing off and leaving when he couldn’t stand the heat anymore, flopping on his bed with his towel wrapped around his waist so he could drip dry. Flipping to his stomach, body steaming, he grabbed his laptop and logged on, seeing the usual group.

Rose and Jade had been involved in a deep conversation about recreating musical tones digitally, wondering how to improve electric violins by going a step beyond, making it virtually possible to practice even without a violin in hand. Jade had experimented with a flute option but found it too difficult, while a bass option had worked well. Stringed instruments seemed to be heads above other types thus far, but she promised to iron the kinks out of it over time. Eventually an entire orchestra could be composed in virtual reality with accurate tones and intensity by a single person who would then be able to do the same with real instruments, or at least that was her plan.

gG: really, its not going to be that hard. It all just comes down to input and human error, but if things work out it would be like a training course that could carry over into the real world!

gG: remember those old games that taught you guitar while you played a game? same thing, but a ton of different instruments! :D

Dave logged on by the time John’s dinner was delivered by a maid, posting a picture of himself fresh out of the shower, blonde hair wet and hanging over his red eyes, skin pink from the heat. He was smirking, as if knowing the disruption would stir people up, and he was right.

gG: geeze, warn us first! :o

tT: If he warned us I don’t think he’d be able to post with that smirk.

eB: oh hey you just got out of the shower too.

There was a pause before Dave typed next in the group chat.

tG: well you cant just say that and leave the adoring public high and dry egbert

tG: pics or it didnt happen

gG: now were talking!!

tT: Not there’s challenges to uphold, no less. Jade, do you suppose we should do the same when we shower later?

gG: :( i already showered this morning though...

tT: Pity. Next time, then. I’ll be sure to remind you.

tG: that mean we get to see some lalonde action later or what

tT: By Lalonde action do you mean seeing me in a towel? Because yes.

gG: hubba hubba!! ;)

tT: Jade, please.

John blinked and scrolled back up to Dave’s picture, looking it over again while biting his lip. ...Shit. Okay, he was attractive when dry but seeing him wet just added another dimension to it. Hello future images for the guilty fap bank. He paused while saving the image with a slight frown, however, looking at his friend’s torso. There were bruises on him here and there, and the impression of what looked like a halter strap on his flushed torso. A shape that looked somewhat familiar against his flushed skin...

tT: John are you going to leave your public thirsting, or are you just building up anticipation before slipping something into the chat?

tG: hot

Oh. Right. Coughing, John sat upright and tried to pose himself with his towel similarly to how Dave had posed, showing off a bit while still being demure. It turned out different, John being chubby compared to Dave’s slender form, but he assumed it looked good enough to send.

tG: i repeat

tG: hot

tG: goddamn egbert is this why you dont post selfies more often

John bit his lip harder and groaned quietly. Someone who looked like that calling him hot? Shit, even if he was joking it went straight to his dick. The girls complimented him as well, and within an hour or two Rose had added a picture to the chat that they all showered with compliments, but it was Dave’s words and photo that haunted John as he went to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It had taken a while to wash all the blood off from the day’ competition. Dave returned to his room exhausted and dazed, deciding to show off for fun. At the right angle, nobody could see the implant or signs of where he was, a simple white wall behind him the ultimate incognito space to work with. If he couldn’t flirt with his friends, who could he realistically flirt with? Random people, sure, but it didn’t matter in the slightest comparatively. At least these people cared about him, and he cared about their opinions.

He’d already made up his mind: whenever, or if he ever got out of here, they’d be the first people he visited. Dave wanted to see Jade’s smile in person, and maybe kiss her. He wanted to hear Rose’s voice without the faint crackle of distance between them, and maybe kiss her too. And John… well. Shit. He’d kind of shown all his cards on that one this time, but who could blame him?

He was getting closer and closer to either winning or losing, and there might not be much time left. There was nothing to lose anymore. If he died, at least his friends would know he cared about them in a lot of ways. Dave stayed up late into the night shooting the shit with everyone, and once John went to bed, continued talking with the girls till only Rose was left in his direct messages, the group chat quiet for the night.

tT: Did you mean to spill homoeroticism all over the place earlier, or was it a slip that you just decided to own up to? It’s not the first time you’ve done it, but this is the first time you’ve been so blunt.

tT: However, if it’s a joke, it’s a tactless one. I think John was really flattered.

Dave sighed.

tG: it wasnt a joke

tG: i dont feel like getting into it right now

Not like he could really get into it, after all. The censors were ready and waiting for him to fuck up, and even if he tried, he wasn’t sure if Rose would understand the attempts at telling her about the game.

tT: Understandable, though I do hope you’ll let me in on it at some point.

tG: you feel like going on about why you were hitting on jade so much tonight

tT: She’s hot, who wouldn’t hit on her.

tG: touche

Maybe he could try, though.

tG: if i tried to explain something do you think youd be able to pick up what im putting down

tT: One way to find out, isn’t there. Am I masculine enough to pick up what you’ve placed down, or is this a request for a bend and snap.

tG: focus

tT: Yes, yes, focusing.

Dave licked his lips.

tG: i play a very intense thing

tT: An intense chicken hoarding game?

tG: im living an intense life in a place not my home

tG: and i might be famous without being famous

tT: Hm. Are you an internet celebrity? I admit I’m not on many social media sites, and the ones I’m on I more pay attention to my circles than anyone outside of them.

tG: nobody knows who i am

tT: Ah, the price of fame.

tG: i dont want to be famous

tT: I’ve heard the limelight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, yes.

Dave groaned and rubbed his face, frustrated, and hurriedly typed and sent a reply.

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

tG: for fucks sake im a living piece in a game board and i dont want to die and id give anything to tell you all about this shit but theres a piece of shit watching me that wont let me

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

Cussing, Dave shoved his laptop away as the post was strangled and his connection was dropped for the night. Unable to distract himself, he slept restlessly on his cot, arms crossed and red eyes repeatedly looking towards the night sky from his barred window. Somewhere out there was all of his friends, and damn it, someday he’d get to meet all of them and let them know precisely what they meant to him.

#homestuck #johndave #john egbert #dave strider #rose lalonde #jade harley #beta ot4 lite #my fic

6 notes · View notes

wilma-flintstones-mother · 6 years

Video

youtube

In Memorium of ALL that was lost 17 years ago and Also Intentionally Slotted Here This Evening Most Thoughtfully to Act as Motivational Fuel for the Fires that will Rage from Within the Very Core of the hearts and minds and conscience of the soon-to-be in Revolt citizenry of these United States of America in one Final, bloody, intense and all too necessary Shoot-em-up Stand-Off to the death against the Evil Spectres of World Domination and specifically to thwart and completely overpower them before they are able to initiate the communications, media, finances, military, government shutdown and beginning of an unspeakably brutal, inhumane, uber-violent and nightmarish new era of civil war, revolution, mass execution, starvation and instantaneously unleash mass catastrophic casualties not only to the populace but also to the environment, the animal kingdom in it’s entirety, the planned destruction of entire continents through previously un-imagined and practically instantaneous destruction of the planet’s protective ozone layer, resulting in the immediate genocide of all of Earth’s indigenous carbon-based life, it’s plentiful flora, wide variety of fauna and also contaminate what hadn’t already evaporated upon impact the small remaining amounts of precious life-sustaining water, through their perfected secret mastery of previously undiscovered directed energy weaponry that is some form of combined nuclear energy, microwave technology, anti-gravitational frequencies, pure dark anti-matter (!!!seriously!!!NO SHIT!!!), weather, climate and tectonic plate manipulated modification turned up to astronomically dangerous, unstable and very likely mass extinction level event status catastrophic disasters and result in essentially prematurely creating and ejaculating another end of the world as we know it holocaust to end all previous civilizations falls and final death knells (but this time, intentionally caused by the control-freakish political, financial, industrial and military combined governing lords over mankind itself) all inclusive planetary die-off and single, solitary jumping off and into the bottomless abyss, resulting in a.) spill over into the pan-dimensional multiverse (which WAS previously thought to have been theoretically an absolute impossibility!) into the ninth, tenth and twelfth dimensions, respectively, but simultaneously also extinguishing out every last vestige of life-force on the planet in less than a tenth of a second and managed to obliterate each and every one of us from a dimension of sight, sound and mind directly into a (imminently far, far greater than simply a mere) other dimensional plane, consisting of layer upon layer upon layer (infinitude) of vehemently dangerous couplings of essentially MATTER and ANTI-MATTER coming in and back out of direct contact with one another, frequently, shockingly silently co-mingling into and between and surrounding and even bridging and exchanging protons and atoms and black matter as well as sub-atomic particles and potentially even communications, emotions, entanglements, relationships, births, deaths, momentary sharing and exchanging one another’s very fundamental opposite identities and dimensional realities and physics, with the identifying forces of one’s positive matter actually momentarily embracing and becoming the other’s negative anti-matter in a unproven but most undeniably sexual and familiarly interpersonal most extremely noticeably peculiar and identifiable fashion of cosmic similitude and the commonly shared consciousness of which we all are, have been or one day will be a consciously living, breathing and existing extension of and only temporarily branched out from, as we and every other pattern of energy and cosmic memory perpetually re-emerge from as brand new energy patterns of a dangerously unstable and eventually formidably destructive and destroying on all levels of all layers of all dimensions and each and every one of the millions of universes, galaxies, solar systems, planets, continents, countries, cities, neighborhoods, square blocks, autonomous buildings and personal dwellings, individual living spaces with identifying names defining what activity or necessity of everyday life is executed within each specified room and it’s functional purpose, personal effects, family heirlooms, furniture, keepsakes, entertainments, elemental nourishment preparatory appliances and implements,unique individual life forms laying in bed, tossing and turning back and forth, unable to achieve sound sleep, the myriad cacophony of inner voices, fleeting thoughts, obsessions, scheduling of things to accomplish the following day, what they were going to wear, weather or not so-and-so was interested in dating them, worrying that their car might break down again and having to shell out another $500 out of their laughably inconsequential savings account, the linear dream state of human beings, as it continues to develop and move forward and shift from reality to reality and from moment to moment, never actually ceasing in it’s eternal clockworks, weather the unconscious host dreamer is currently wide awake and existing, thinking, acting and forgetting all about what they had experienced within it’s hyper-reality surrealism and meditative, curative phantasmagoria just a few hours previously when they were still fully immersed in it’s calm and collected, REM-activated trappings and grasp, and even then, the dream they had suddenly woken up from unexpectedly as their alarm clock went off at 8:30 am sharp and they ever so slowly, lackadaisically began to forget all about the wild, memourable, erotic, funny, exciting, evocative dream they had been enjoying just prior to waking up, in which they even got to hang out and experience many different kinds of abstractly disjointed variations and totally irrational and illogical combinations of being in their parent’s house/but also at Disneyland/which was also a Bob’s Big Boy Restaurant/and the hospital corridors you would endless walk through at a time when your grandmother was a patient and died there/which was also your place of employment (probably several jobs ago, the one you really liked but that you really did self-sabotage your being able to remain at) / which also had a little hidden rumpus room on the other side of the wall from your high school cafeteria, where you and another kid you had a crush on disappeared into so you could smoke a bowl together and then engage in sloppy, failed attempt at performing oral sex upon/which also had a really cool roller coaster right outside the main entrance that you could ride for free/ that would also just so happen to make a stop halfway through just outside of your very own bedroom door/ just as you hear the voice of your little brother who died when he was 10 calling your name as if he were lost somewhere and couldn’t find his way/but that’s stupid, because I KNOW and I REMEMBER that HE DIED YEARS AGO, but I’m glad he’s home and I wonder if he’ll want to go see STAR WARS with me and Jill and Kessie later on tonight at the Rialto in South Pas, that is, if I we can find each other... I hope he doesn’t get too scared/so just as you open your bedroom door and are about to walk in/suddenly you are startled by an annoying loud buzz which you can’t comprehend at first but then you/suddenly open up your sleepy eyes and it’s your alarm clock right on buzz-killing schedule as always, and your bedroom ceiling is awash in vibrant hues of yellowish-orange morning sunlight and all of that provocative zaniness was all just a dream...as always....except you never realize it fully until you have wake up and have emerged out of it’s hypnotic and compelling desire-answering and mood-fulfilling magick theatre-isms, it’s so obvious now that that was all only a dream, even though I remember dreaming that I knew it was all just a dream, even though it always more-than suffices as an even-better alternative to waking life and this reality in lieu of living in it... and those faceless character-actor-ish phantasms who you were never privy to the common knowledge of realizing or even imagining that those people and those images of people you know and knew in real waking life actually do just continue on about within the reality and time frame and space and time curvature of which their usually entertaining, carefree, monstrous hybrid of all things, real, imaginary, past, present and future, entertainment fiction real life trauma as experienced from the top hill of a b&w animated roller coaster originally drawn way back in the late 1920′s just as it begins to spill over the rather substantial incline just as the maximum momentum and locomotion has achieved it’s hand-drawn cell-animated maximum velocity, you notice the entire back half of the train of cars is literally lifting feet above the noisy pencil-drawn wooden tracks they’re allegedly connected to, a few of the people in the last two cars even fly out of their seats at the top of the hill, safely settling back into their chosen seats on the coaster by the time it reaches the bottom of the first hill.... the Fleischer Brothers ain’t got nothin’ on the power and limitless freedom of movement, imagination, unlikelihood, a human animals natural-born connected-ness with the psychic and telekinetic energies, patterns and the Earthen natural resources of magnetism and magnitude, unyielding and unrecoverable decimation, the violently opposing layers and volumes and channels and dimensions and and conflicting reams of liquid space, psychic vibratory beings consisting of nothing but pure energy, shadow and darkness ; abject, complete and unimaginable total non-existence, sequencing which would begin the intention of their callously chickenshit and much, much too prematurely arriving at that moment to end all other moments throughout the nights of time, as they safely secure themselves and their self-importance and their loved ones, pets, favourite records, movies and books, computers and internet connectivity, porn, King James versions of the Bible, all of their very favourite processed, GMO and cloned foodstuffs, wellspring library of alcohols, sodas, sundry recreational drugs, nibbles, snacks, more cases of bottled water than anyone has ever seen in reality EVER and aperitifs... But they also DIDN’T forget to bring along all of their unnecessary baggage and dirty laundry and bad, bad, bad, bad, and I’m talking... fucking detestable, shameful-ass as-a-mother-fucker bad-bad-ass karma (that is so sullied and so soiled and so unrecognizable as still actually being legally able to be referred to tastefully and realistically as `karma’) Oh, as well as their wealth of compassionate and trustworthy and still gainfully much, much better, handsomer and more worthy, deserving and overall just plain better than you, and all of the expected limited intelligence and tunnel vision perceptions, ever having been able to just kick the fuck back worry-free and enjoy life, goddammit, being born into old, white, American money and profitably living his life day to day, year to year, lost decade to shitty new world-ordered decade, far too privileged for far too long and all the while having succeeded in incontestably lying, deceiving, murdering, littering, poisoning, manipulating, cheating, raping, pillaging, warring, creating unnecessary tensions and divisions out of friends and neighbours, guilty by treason for a lifetime consisting of literally absolute and complete incompetency, crimes against humanity coupled with a competently inhumane disregard for any and all creatures and beings and families and communities, ever able to not just survive but perpetrate every last conceivable attribute of nihilism, misanthropy, xenophobia, sexism, conservative republicanism, needlessly controlling power freak and (just short of legally being able to qualify as tangibly having lived your life and carried out your position of power over all others) just two-steps short of having followed closely in the same footsteps as Hitler, Mussolini, the George W. Bush Dynasty and Justin Bieber himself... having acted upon on all of the very worst and lowest common denominational rhetoric, politics of never more than dirty fucking pool at it’s very lowest n-word notches and, now, safely watching the pandemonium and fiery, avalanche of unprecedented 9.4 earthquakes, tsunami that stay quite far inland wracking up even more unbelievable devastation for weeks at a time, volcanic overflows overtake the Hawaiian island which are now nothing but molten lava and bodies and beaches covered in sizzling, razor-sharp newly born land, otherwise, the rest of the whole of the planet’s surface remains awash in uncontrollable fiery flames that give any imaginings of Hell a sincere run for it’s money, all of the major continents, now broken up and in disarray and many no longer connected to any other large square mile footage of land any longer quickly become one endless, suffocating, inferno of unprecedented loss of resources, life, and destruction so thorough in it’s willful desire of finally claiming and bringing to a halt the previous relative peace, tranquility and beauty of all that had been and thrived there for so long, 200 mph winds signalling the arrival of onslaughts of level 5 hurricanes, tornadoes and the tallest, most ominous and terrifying sight of 300 foot tall rogue tidal waves approaching, one after the other after the other, wiping out any and all previous beach and harbour communities ; scary, violent new chunks of Earth shooting up from far beneath the surface, destroying everything in it’s wake and ripping-to-shreds the very land masses underneath our feet which had been home to our beloved communities, estuaries, park lands, national monuments, farm lands. rivers, forests, family homesteads, hills and valleys ; molten lava spewing forth robustly, shooting fiery liquid fumes into the air three miles up and then landing hundreds of miles away, volcanic rock, magma, tectonic plates, mountains, hills, valleys, grasslands, rain forests, beaches, deserts, all cities of the world finally united in one overwhelmingly epic fireball burning every last shelter, building and domicile unmercifully to the ground - As the still-believing-themselves-to-be ever-privileged, special, deserving and just higher-class one per-centers, who just minutes previously inherited the title of and factually became THE REPRESENTATIVE ENTIRETY OF HUMAN BEINGS ALIVE ON THE PLANET EARTH (or more accurately, deep within the labyrinthine caves and tunnelled out miles and miles of underground civilized word, accommodations, diversionary things like big slides, swings, swimming pools and mineral springs, bowling alleys and skating rinks, exacting replicas of their favourite four star eateries of the previous civilized world, subterranean jungles, arboretums and gardens, a n amusement park with all of the most insane and exciting thrill rides and roller coasters anybody could ever wish for, exacting duplicate versions (all stolen, of course) from Disneyland’s Matterhorn, Pirates of the Caribbean, the Haunted Mansion, Enchanted Tiki Room and Jungle Cruise rides (poetically, they DID have the taste and intuition to not consider also having their own water flume it’s a small world ride, too! I mean... that was the VERY LEAST they could have NOT done!) Anyway, with them all together having drinks and a small, five-course light luncheon being served to them by their staff (they DID allow a hundred or so select few of the rest of us to survive the pandemic `natural’ wave of cataclysmic destruction that the Earth and it’s surface and it’s 99% of the rest of the civilized populace, as we knew it, had suffered) and they were all assembled in their single most comfortable, cushy, oversized and simply plush movie theatre/dinner theatre/five star restaurant/full bar and pharmaceutical store/hamburger stand/coffee house/art gallery/television stations and they all watched over CCTV which played out, mechanically filming and panning back and forth and then shifting to another CCTV location and the not-so-surprisingly total loss and unrecognizable current appearance of many previously magnificently beautiful famous and beloved locations of historical and personal significance, all of the destruction and decimation on the planets surface miles above them playing out unashamedly just as unapologetically as it had happened in the first place, for all of them to see with their own eyes the trivial, trifling, megalomaniac spoiled conservative republican, unnecessarily one-sided results of their well-planned escape and future subterranean survivalist underground civilization and continuation of the human animal (or, more accurately, of the most minutely small, inconsequential, minor, petty, self-obsessed and inbred of any and all possible cliques of individuals who might ever have possibly been the few select `lucky ones’ to have actually been the only living representatives of all human life on the planet, 99% of which had just recently been violently killed in one freakish manner due to one or another of the extinction level event cataclysmic disasters that had simultaneously murdered off the entire planet itself! They sat in surprising silence as they interestingly took in all of the devastation they witnessed live on the very large 70mm cinerama dome-like vinyl motion picture screen and, for the very first time, I believe it may have actually been the single only time ever that a group of fascistic, right wing republican conservative born again Christians ever sat together in such an immense and comfortable entertainment center, and did not open their retarded mouths to say not one fucking snide little comment about all of those unlucky one’s above who had just perished... I believe that even if it may just have been a trick of the light or something, that I may possibly have just witnessed a conservative republican shedding a tear or two over somebody who was neither himself, a member of his family and actually who had been one of those bleeding-heart liberal democrats who ruined our country so thoroughly and ran that shit right into the ground before we did the right thing and saw to it that they finally got WTF they deserved, those stupid fucking N-word M*%%# F&@#%$......

#extinction event level

1 note · View note

jamesmcf88 · 4 years

Text

pt one - james mcfarlane

“love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless, voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement, and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life) Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce. Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash, for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.) my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up,

A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature, while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind

DRONe3

.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øØ³=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane•

Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption

LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016

#poetry

0 notes