#afterverse bullshit

[baelpenrose]

Nihilus Rex 31: Next Step

The back and forths writing this one.... Oh side note, Afterverse Studios does NOT endorse anything that Nils and Lash or their new psychopath plan in this chapter! Do not do this! @canyouhearthelight and I did have a lot of fun going back and forth with this tho...

When you're high, who ya flyin for?

When you ride, who ya ridin for?

When you toast, who ya drinkin for?

When you play, gotta deal with the devil.

Pop Evil "Deal with the Devil"

Nils

The date with my parents and Lash had gone without a hitch - hopefully the ladies’ day would be good for Lash and my mom. And Mrs. Botelho. 

In the meantime, Bishop, me, Lash, and Dickie Gray - Richard, I supposed - were meeting up to talk about our next big plan, which also had to include some kind of provision to rid ourselves of the attention of that obnoxious Fibbie who was still crawling around town. We had our minions posting about her movements to keep from getting caught flat-footed, but I still wanted her out of my city as quickly as possible.

Heh, ‘my’ city. I sounded like a mob boss.

“Bishop, you have the proxies set up to call the human-hunting enthusiast?”

“Yeah. Creampuff, Baklava, we’re gonna talk about your choice of lieutenants.”

“Yes, but later. Get the fucker on.” 

The screen came to life, and that same, deeply unpleasant icon popped up. “Nihilus, Phoenix. You wanted a meeting?”

“We have FBI in town. Our next mission is going to be to deal with some eviction notices getting served - and to take care of some banking properties while we’re at it. You already called our bluff on the QAnon bullshit, so real talk - none of us here want the government or big corporations owning all the houses or all the medicine. So we’re breaking that up a bit. But we want something to draw off the FBI while we do it. We have to do something beneficial enough to build support and flashy enough to draw attention off our core command structure.”

“Is there a reason we’re going with social engineering?”

“The reason the right always loses populist games in the long term is that they don’t invest in helping people with their actual problems.” 

The icon with the skull and dagger flashed. “Heh. Point. Benefits for loyalty. Can’t last forever.”

“He who comes to a principality against the wishes of both its nobility and its people should endear himself first to the people for they, who hope most not to be oppressed, shall bind themselves to their benefactor upon receiving generosity where they feared evil, where the nobles, seeking to oppress, can be dealt with as open foes, replaced with pliable fools in austerity and bribed to compliance in prosperity.” I quoted. “If I choose who to satisfy, I choose the average person. It means I have to kill fewer enemies in the long run. If the politicians could just figure that out, we’d have a lot fewer issues.” 

Lash blinked. “Machievelli isn’t normally the person one quotes if they are making a moral argument.”

“And yet the argument I just made would lead to more moral governance if its tenants were followed than anything our current government is doing.” 

“Still… Machievelli?” she muttered.

Bishop glowered and I abruptly realized he’d muted all our mics for us. “Children. Maybe don’t argue with each other and therefore imply internal division when your psychopath lieutenant with the survival of the fittest mentality is in the room?”

“Right.” I unmuted. 

“I think I’m satisfied with your logic. Do whatever flashy bullshit you want to get the fibbies attention, and whatever civic crap you want to get the normies on board.” Gray sounded unimpressed. 

I thought about it. “Right now, what are they saying on the boards you’re frequenting?”

“A lot of them are still on board with their local churches that keep raving about the current dumbfuck-in-office being anointed by god, or about dealing with those goddamn degenerates that have been making all the kids squall about pronouns lately.” His tone made it clear his own opinion on the queer community’s existence itself was likely indifferent at best, but that in his mind their true sin was not deviance but whining. He struck me as a person who would more easily respect an armed queer than an unarmed cishet, and ultimately I could follow the logic, uncomfortable though it was.

“So, as long as the gays pay taxes?” I quipped.

“Long as they don’t ask me to take care of them.” He muttered. “I don’t give a fuck what people get up to as long as they don’t need taking care of once they’re grown.” 

I filed that away for later - I was getting a fuller picture of his worldview the longer this went and I was increasingly certain we were gonna need to put him down. “Where were you going though?”

“Lot of people in the far right are gonna be a little bound up with the government because a lot of their churches have a little love affair with their modern day King Cyrus, Emperor Constantine, whatever analogy they’re using this week.” 

I sputtered. Christians were not being persecuted in the US, and…Stupid, stupid. Okay, something to work on. “Got it. I’ll have to work on that. Thanks for the tip.”

I glanced at Lash. “I… I honestly cannot figure out anything to say to him for this current operation that wouldn’t derail it,” she shrugged, biting her lip in apology. “I don’t agree with it, but his logic is sound enough that arguing may actually tip him against us.” Even as she said it, she looked queasy.

I glanced at him. “Alright then. This meeting is done. Keep our people that you’re supervising out of anything until I contact you again.”  The meaning of those words was clear - they were still my minions, not his. The call terminated.

Churches were keeping people locked in line with the state, as churches historically tended to. Okay, so our next job was going to be to fracture…Many megachurches had a lot of people who open carried, right? Our gun nut guy might be able to tell me, and I could double check later, but that had been in the news lately. I could check which ones…

“Lash. If these hateful megachurches that love SWATing gay clubs - the ones who just love. Love. Showing off their second amendment rights in church. Who have, for years, been fed a steady diet of ‘the government is coming for your children’ and 'the government are coming for Christians’. What if, and hear me out. What if they get SWATed back? What if we get a firefight between them and the cops going? Get a wedge between the right and law enforcement, leave the state without non state actors? Re-create the Night of the Long Knives via false flag?

In a gesture I had long learned was her method for buying time, she took a long, deep drink of water before speaking. “I don’t understand guns in a place of worship, I’m going to be honest. It… it baffles me, I guess? But then I see shootings on the news, and wonder ‘why do you think guns are the answer?’.  So, logically - “ She took another long drink of water before gasping for breath. “I guess I think it isn’t logical to have guns in a temple, and the police should know about that.  Provided,” she hedged, “that they know there are children present and, if they need to fire, it’s at grown up height.” She held her hand level with her eyes, a hair around five foot.

I was already thinking. "If we call SWAT, they're going to go in with weapons at shoulder height." Of course, once they were fired on, anything could happen. If kids were hit, that'd be more reason for the churchgoers to fire on cops in the future, the ‘jackbooted thugs shooting Christian kids’ narrative was something we could get a lot of mileage out of…

“Baklava is a pacifist, in case you haven’t figure that out,” Bishop grunted.

I laughed, while Lash huffed. “I just hate hearing people use ‘survival of the fittest’ when they mean ‘might makes right’.”

“No she bloody well isn’t,” I said to Bishop, idly, then shifted my gaze to my girlfriend. “No, I get that, though I can’t really argue that nature miserably echoes capitalism in that survival favors those who outcompete - or at least adapt. We both want a gentler world than the rules of nature - either the bloody ‘eat or be eaten’ he imagines or the ‘thrive and adapt or die’ that Darwin actually suggests.” 

Bishop looked between us and finally threw up his hands. “Okay, I’ll bite. You’re saying the same thing and rephrasing it, like it means something different. But ‘survival of the fittest’ is pretty clear.”

“Oh my god,” Lash groaned. “It’s the least clear thing in the world, apparently.  You, chucklefuck on the phone, and most of Nils’ pet racists all think it means ‘survival of the toughest and best equipped to fight’, when that’s the last thing it means. ‘Survival of the fittest’ means literally that: ‘to those who adapt and fit in with the least effort go the spoils of evolution’.  Why do you think mice are so common?  They aren’t exactly out there whipping ass and taking names… but they are definitely having more babies and more live to a reproductive age than larger predators, that’s for sure.”

“Which,” I added, “Is also why invasive species are so dangerous. They’re usually better able to adapt really well to a variety of environments and take over niches that more specialized species rely on, which leaves a lot of things on the chopping block. I am not totally sure I trust the idea of ‘natural selection’ as it actually applies for morals either. In natural selection, you have a plague, and then everything that can’t survive it dies, and either you have enough left for a stable population or you go extinct. I’d hope we can be better than that as well.”

“Don’t even get me started on anti-Semitism as a result of the bubonic plague,” Lash muttered, covering her face with both hands and shaking her head. She peeked at me. “I know you’re the historian, but you don’t go into clean water initiatives and miss that little gem.”

“You don’t study history without noticing that any bad thing in the middle ages, they somehow managed to blame on the Jews. Except for one part in the early 11th century in Northern Germany of all places, where they blamed it on pagans in the Black Forest. And even then, they roped in the Jews and threw in a pogrom on the side.” 

“Circling back to our current surprisingly less racist than most of our minions issue…” Bishop cleared his throat. “Do we - or better yet, the two of you - trust him?”

“I want to point out he’s absolutely not less racist than most of our minions, and he might actually be worse, it’s just in a very specific and far more flexible and less dogmatic way. He’s an accelerationist fash.” I said, irritable. “Put this way: to him, white people being more militarily advanced and able to conquer everything was proof that we’re ‘better’. Same time, to him, the idea of ‘white genocide’ is laughable. Most white supremacists are deep-down terrified of having to compete on equal footing with people of color because they wonder on some level if they’re actually better or if the global majority has been artificially kept in second rank the whole time, so they rely on cops. This psycho thinks that police protection is making white people weak and decadent and wants an outright race war to get people sharpened back up. So no, I don’t trust him, I want to put him down as fast as possible.” 

“Which, in English,” Lash interjected, “means that while most racists think they shouldn’t have to do as much as they are doing now, Gray thinks they aren’t doing enough. So yeah, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw this mall.”

Bishop looked between us. “And…you’re working with him? You just said he’s not as bad as the average lunatic you’re dealing with but almost an order of magnitude worse. And you’re working with him.” 

“Yep. Which is the other thing: any idea of how we dispose of him when he outlives his utility?” 

Lash gave me a dangerous look, looking at Bishop in silence before looking back at me. “You two really haven’t figured that part out? It’s pretty obvious.”

“I thought about the police route, if that’s what you’re thinking. Set him up as our next patsy. There’s no way he doesn’t roll over on us if we play that route, unless we go way out of our way to ensure he isn’t taken alive, which…he may be harder to play that on than most of them. And we’d want to let him cook for a while before we let the ax fall on him.” 

“Suicide by cop, you got it in one,” she fired at me. “Bishop, the main reason I’m willing to work with this guy - and probably the same for Nils, at least a bit - is that he doesn’t want cops involved, at all.  Which is something we don’t want either.  So, take a racist who hates cops, let him poison the whole batch to the same line of thought, and then we just… wind him up a bit at a time.  Eventually, we might be able to make him take care of himself for us, as a martyr rather than an enemy.”

“And if you don’t, your minions Order 66 you during your moment of triumph.” 

“Given the number of gun permits the guy has…. I’m betting on blaze of glory,” Lash admitted. “No one who distrusts cops owns that many weapons without being willing to use them.”

I thought about it. “The risk is setting him up at the right time and giving him time to marinate in our brand of chaotic shit. Too early and he dies before he’s gotten his minions fully trained and drilled, which is what we want him for. Too late and his martyrdom creates a spinoff force that isn’t under our control. Timing is going to be key.” I couldn’t deny Lash’s argument though - Gray was probably capable of giving a 30 minute lecture, on demand, about how the 2nd Amendment was the most important one in protecting us from government overreach. 

Bishop took a breath. “Alright. So. Speaking of using him. You told him to wind up his minions in the megachurches to be worried about the deep state. Did you have a particular target in mind for the SWATing?”

I froze. “I had a few, some pastors who keep making news, ones I…figured ought to get some pain before things were out.” 

Lash didn’t even seem to hesitate, which I hope made Bishop rethink his comment about her pacifism. “That crazy one down in Florida, the one that protests the funerals of veterans.  Most gun lovers are either vets, vet-adjacent, or wannabes, right? Low fruit, easy pickings.”

“I was skewing towards that guy in Tennessee who keeps making news for really uniquely fucked up takes about what should be done with queer people, since there’s a lot of wannabe vets and gun nuts afraid of the ��deep state brainwashing their kids’ in that congregation. No harm in going with both.” 

Bishop blinked and stroked his beard. “You two have some grudges, I see.  Love the readiness, though.” He pointed at Lash directly. “I did expect you to at least need to think about it, love.”

She shrugged. “Being pragmatic and being a pacifist aren’t the same thing, Bishop.  And what is it, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?  Fewer hateful adults, fewer fearful kids.”

I was busy staring, open mouthed, at Lash, and feeling incredibly happy she and I were together. 

He rubbed his temples. “You two are…I can’t say if you’re bad for each other or good for each other. Ever since you’ve gotten together, both of you have been more focused, more disciplined, come up with better ideas. But you’ve been more ruthless, Nils has been more self-destructive, and I don’t know where it’s going. I suspect I want to be there to see.” 

“Nils is eating three meals a day,” Lash pointed out. “And 85% of my parents are barely out of the hospital… last time we relaxed, Baba lost a leg and Mama lost the lobe of one lung.  You know how I feel about my family.”

“Yeah, I do.” Bishop took a breath. “Sorry.” He walked towards me and then whispered, “And you? You’re eating, but the medication…”

“It’s under control.” I said, quietly.  I actually hadn’t double-dosed on my adderall in weeks. “Honestly better than it’s been in years.”

Bishop made a ‘hm’ sound. “My apologies. Maybe I was just rattled.” He looked like he wanted to say more, and then simply said, “I’m going to grab us some coffees.”

I turned to Lash. “What do you think that was about?” 

“All I’m going to say is, I didn’t know he thought I was a pacifist.”

“Easy mistake to make, in this business: you place a high value on human life.” I squeezed her hand. “Bishop just makes the really common mistake of conflating kindness and mercy for weakness.”

“Him, we keep,” she squeezed back. “The more people to rein us in if needed, the better.  Which reminds me… I think I need to tell Mori something.  I don’t want my entire family left wondering if something happens to me, and Mori I at least trust to not tell Mama or Baba anything until she has to.”

[tiefighter]

Thinkin about dumb trader characters Aaden's a trader hes been one for years he brings souls to the afterworlds they belong to, for a price. Sometimes it's money, sometimes its somewhere to run, somewhere to hide for a while. He roams afterlives like it's his job, whether as a human or something else he doesn't know. He wonders what happens to people like him when they die. Does he get to choose his afterworld or is he just as helpless as everyone else? He works with a demon who doesn't have a name, who barely speaks. He's over three thousand years old, spent two of those trapped in a necklace, hidden behind a citrine stone with a huge crack in the middle. When he does speak it's an event, something to be considered. He's not well, and Aaden's a moderator as well as a friend. Everyone reacts to captivity differently, after all. And Aaden's not one to judge, given what he is and what he's done. 

[tiefighter]

Okay I'm just gonna ramble for a minute because I'm sad and bored and lonely

Turns out the dude who got bored and stabbed him is the avatar for the Child of the nightmare of a god, specifically the nightmare of one of the two BIG GODS, Fate and Chaos. Fate dreamed of Oblivion, Chaos Dreamed of order, Osiris dreamed of Plague and Odin dreamed of Loss. Each of these Nightmares is currently sleeping and send Children out into the world: Mirth, Intent, Preacher and Heathen respectively. 

So Aly's got a personal grudge against Mirth for stabbing him right in the fucking back after getting an information delivery and infecting him with an aspect of the child, named Ire, and basically nearly murdering him. Turns out, the dude is planning to destroy the entire universe and is infecting people and amassing an army to do it. So Aly goes on the offensive. He recruits, agressively. He asks Gods for help, to either open up or lock down their worlds and for a while, nobody listens to him.He's talking shit, right? But then Atlantis falls and people start paying attention. Aly works himself nearly to death, amasses an army to fight against these Nightmares and in the end he sort of wins and sort of doesn't and ends up kinda horrendously dead with the child aspect in his head, Ire, sacrificing itself to make sure he has enough power to win. That's basically like a rundown of the main plot, at least. There's a million other sideplots including pissy gods having chess matches with chickens, a desert world where a dragon sleeps beneath a city stirring and infected, breathing sandstorms through the Gates, finding out what actually POWERS the gates and what happens to the Souls the Traders pass on, Demons and the genocide of an entire race, etc etc I should just

sit down and write it out

but this is a massively problematic world for me and I need more time to figure it out

so boo u whore brain get on it

[tiefighter]

Tell me about aly and beards. Does he like having a beard? Does he like beards on other guys? Just beards.

Aly is a huge fan of beards, either on himself or someone else. He likes his beard because it makes him look older and for some reason makes other people more inclined to take him seriously. And often, he can't spare the time it takes to shave. He finds it a lot easier to groom a beard. He likes beards on other people. It's scratchy and warm and he likes the way people look when they smile. He's always a sucker for a man with a good beard. 

[tiefighter]

thingsstuffnuances replied to your post “Friends I am ill but awake ask me or my characters shit I’m marking I...”

Who is the most likely to develop a horrible caffeine addiction? >.>

oh man, aly. Man doesn't sleep and when he does it's like a rock and he goes down for HOURS so he prefers to stay awake as long as possible. He's very busy, all the time and I don't think anyone's seen him /not tired/ for years.  He mainlines caffeine in an effort to stay awake, and he's more often than not found working down in the kitchen so he's closer to the coffee. He barely uses his office anymore. 

[tiefighter]

oh no original verse overprotective aly feelings no I don't need you go away