Too bad no one wanted the Council infodump even though I hinted that one or more of them might be on-board.
Are you trying to imply we, The Codex, herp-derped?
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[LP CYOA] Epic
- Thread starter treave
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Are you trying to imply we, The Codex, herp-derped?
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No, the information about the fortress will be useful if you try to sabotage it from the control room, or otherwise make bluffs about it, while the Vajra info would be needed to remove the piece properly or harness the fortress's full power combined with the former option. The Council information would greatly increase your chances of succeeding in tricking or attacking this guy, though I'm not saying it's impossible to do so without it, and knowledge of their military plans would be helpful after this to soundly defeat their fleets. That and make more bluffs.
Not erasing this chap could partially help compensate for one or more of the above. Maybe.
The herp-derp hasn't hit the fan just yet. Though perhaps it arguably did the moment I had to write about Senya going into a fortified system alone with little idea of what to expect.
Not erasing this chap could partially help compensate for one or more of the above. Maybe.
The herp-derp hasn't hit the fan just yet. Though perhaps it arguably did the moment I had to write about Senya going into a fortified system alone with little idea of what to expect.
Esquilax
Arcane
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Alright TOME, you've convinced me. If we take a small hit in the short-term that will draw us slightly closer to the apocalypse, it's probably better than fucking up and reloading, which is worse from that standpoint and pretty likely considering our lack of information on the Council. The choice here is basically either making a small sacrifice now vs. risking a reload. Given that we lack the knowledge to pull off either a clever con or exploit the immortal's weaknesses, this seems to be the best thing that we can do in the long run.
Destroying a powerful immortal is bad on the cosmic scale, but reloading is probably significantly worse. And if we pick A/B, we're probably looking at a reload.
However, I'd like to point out that him being super-fast is unlikely. The guy isn't a combat specialist and he even told us that he didn't want to go toe-to-toe with our mech. Whatever his non-psychic abilities are, they don't involve him being a combat badass. But yeah, there's plenty of other ways that he can fuck us up.
But you're right - our mission is to destroy Vajra Shula, and that's what we must do. We've taken a lot of very big risks in this chapter so far, and it's probably time we started to play it safe a little bit before our luck runs out (which is probably soon). We should be content with the new information we've received on the Masters, as it's changed the way we view things here considerably. I've flopped my original post to C
We should also heed Sekhenun's words of warning before we fought the Devourer:
Destroying a powerful immortal is bad on the cosmic scale, but reloading is probably significantly worse. And if we pick A/B, we're probably looking at a reload.
However, I'd like to point out that him being super-fast is unlikely. The guy isn't a combat specialist and he even told us that he didn't want to go toe-to-toe with our mech. Whatever his non-psychic abilities are, they don't involve him being a combat badass. But yeah, there's plenty of other ways that he can fuck us up.
But you're right - our mission is to destroy Vajra Shula, and that's what we must do. We've taken a lot of very big risks in this chapter so far, and it's probably time we started to play it safe a little bit before our luck runs out (which is probably soon). We should be content with the new information we've received on the Masters, as it's changed the way we view things here considerably. I've flopped my original post to C
We should also heed Sekhenun's words of warning before we fought the Devourer:
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Jester
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im no one huh : \I would think that the same lack of knowledge that makes A dangerous to navigate would also mean B is as much of a gamble because you don't know what his abilities are. Too bad no one wanted the Council infodump even though I hinted that one or more of them might be on-board.
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Well, C was already winning before the flops and last minute votes sealed it. Well, you guys lost out on an opportunity to gain more knowledge about the Council and possibly find a way to beat them without continuing to resort to force, but let’s see where C leads us…
***
Control. Alternate. Delete
To find and connect with the part of me that lies outside the universe may be a process that lies beyond the flow of time, but it does not mean I am able to do it instantly. The immortal begins to peer suspiciously at me as I reach out and attempt to breach the wall that keeps my psyche separated from the Observer. He appears to be saying something, but what my brain receives from my ears is nothing but garbled nonsense. My consciousness is fully focused on reaching the records of fate. Still, I need to do something to stall for time. I rack my memory for a particular face… is that how it looked like? Yes, that is probably it. With a subtle effort, I allow my expression to fall into the familiar sneer that was Shulgi’s constant companion. The immortal’s eyes light up smugly. He begins to say something again, and then I feel the cracks and I am through the wall, spiralling towards a whirlpool of stars.
I find myself in front of a large, smooth wall of black, with a control panel set into it and a row of three blinking blue lights arranged above a camera lens. It looks like a supercomputer of some sort. I approach the control panel. As it turns out, the Akashic Records that govern the multiverse can be interfaced with by a command prompt. It’s obviously just a simplification of what is actually happening, for the benefit of my frail mortal mind, but nevertheless it helps. The appearance of the supercomputer is probably what I associate with the records. Surely something as grand as the records of all fate would not look like a small ledger in the bottom of an empty filing cabinet? I would have thought that the gravitas associated with age – these records are many times older than the universe I reside in, after all – would have conjured something more akin to a majestic library, but I suppose this is what I am most familiar with.
My fingers hover over the keys as I search for my target. I find it rather easily; the immortal appearing on the screen as a blue dot surrounded by countless white dots – the objects and people that are directly linked to him. The weight of the immortal’s four thousand years of life is heavy. That is the only way I can describe it, watching how his influence distorts and alters the lives of others throughout his long history. Destruction is all that I can accomplish with these records, however. I cannot create, or edit, or even read in detail what has happened. That much access would certainly leave my mind in a very scrambled state. And so, I destroy.
The changes the immortal has wrought; the influence he has exerted over those in his orbit: these remain. The immortal himself, however, is no more. At the exact moment I erase him from existence, I feel the Observer’s gaze focus upon my presence. It can see all things at all places at all times, but for a brief, timeless moment, it sees me. I can feel its vast pressure bearing down on me, trapping me while it probes the existence of its unwanted avatar. After what seems like an eternity, it speaks.
“How interesting.” It says its first words in my voice.
“I know, right?” I reply.
“You are identified as a part of me.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Yet you are apart from me.”
“Yeah.”
“You are not whole.”
“Please don’t offer to remake me.” I joke.
“What is your purpose?” asks the Observer.
“Shouldn’t you know everything?” I reply.
There is a pause that is both a second and a million seconds long, at the same time.
“Everything exists only because I observe it. I know everything that I observe. What I do not know cannot exist. You are a human, a resident of Earth-2661650, born in the four thousandth year of your local calendar. I have observed everything about that, yet I did not observe myself. Why is that?”
“You could not,” I offer. “You do not see yourself in me anymore than a human can perceive any single cell of his own body.”
Another pause, in which stars could have been born and died in the time it takes for the Observer to give me an answer.
“Very interesting.”
It is a rather dull answer, but at least it isn’t threatening to wipe me from existence, though I’m not sure if it could even if it had such a desire. The Observer doesn’t seem keen on anything other than observing.
“Why did you speak to me?” I ask.
“I am curious by nature,” replies the omniscient being. “It is rare for anything to approach me, besides the Custodians. By the way, they have noticed your intrusion.” I can hear a hint of derision in the Observer’s tone, something I did not expect given our conversation thus far. It did not appear to hold these ‘custodians’ in high esteem. “They think you can be of use.” With that, it is gone, its attentions seemingly turned elsewhere. Seemingly, because I sense that it will be keeping a watch on my end of things from now on.
Six shadowy figures manifest before me, appearing out of thin air. Even in the harsh, white lighting of the room, they appear to be nothing more than a black, hazy mist in the vague shape of a human being.
“How did it get here? What did it do?” shouts a figure angrily. Its voice appears to be muffled, coming from a very far distance.
“It appears to have meddled with the records,” complains another nondescript figure. “But it’s not like we can check the exact changes made.”
“Goddammit, Cooper,” raged a figure. “You told us it was harmless and ignorant. A babe whose grasp exceeds its reach, you said.”
“Well, I didn’t-“ responded another figure.
“Wait, is it listening to us? Can it perceive us?” interrupts a figure hurriedly.
“Hello,” I wave and smile in their general direction.
“Oh, fuck.” After an awkward pause, the shadowy figures vanish. Then, they reappear, though now there are only three. I can almost imagine there to be some feet shuffling, if they did have feet.
“We need to talk.” says one of the figures solemnly. It doesn’t appear to be any of the ones that spoke earlier, but I can’t tell through all the vagueness. At any rate, they seem to have gotten their act together; even as shadowy figures, they radiated more dignity than the shadowy figures that were just here. “You are getting yourself involved in a conflict far beyond your understanding. This is not just about your galaxy or your universe.”
I nod. From their behaviour, I’m guessing that they cannot reach me here. Just when I think that, a shadowy door as hazy as the figures materializes in the center of the room.
“Step through that door and we will tell you all you should know, before you cause any more damage unwittingly.”
“Well, why don’t you come over and talk here? We can all sit on the floor in a circle and be friends.” I ask, leaning against the supercomputer with a grin on my face.
The figures turn to each other, their voices nothing more than subdued whispers. After a while, one of them seems to step forward.
“We cannot go there, but you can come to us.” They seem to be trying the truthful approach, but I wonder if they are truly trustworthy. “We need your help.”
“I don’t mind talking to shadows.” I reply.
“Stay here too long and you will become subsumed into Iae.” says a figure promptly.
“Ai-yay?”
“I.A.E,” responds a figure with what I think to be a hint of embarrassment. “The Idea of All Existence. It’s an acronym.”
They’re probably referring to the Observer. It is likely truth; even now I can still feel the pressure of its knowledge weighing on my mind. Here, at the repository of everything that is known, it would drown my psyche if I let my guard slip, like a torrent of water bursting through a cracked dam. Sitting in this room for too long would be a bad idea.
***
A. I go through the door willingly. I doubt these Custodians can hold me if I want to escape. My physical body would be another matter, but right now I’m just pure consciousness. Besides, if there are certain important factors that I am not aware of, I need to know that. Even if they lie, there will be a hint of truth I can glean from it.
B. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m sure they’re planning something, and the offer of knowledge is not enough to entice me into delivering myself into their hands. I return to my body to minimize my exposure to the Records of Akasha. There are still plenty of things for me to do back in my universe.
***
Control. Alternate. Delete
To find and connect with the part of me that lies outside the universe may be a process that lies beyond the flow of time, but it does not mean I am able to do it instantly. The immortal begins to peer suspiciously at me as I reach out and attempt to breach the wall that keeps my psyche separated from the Observer. He appears to be saying something, but what my brain receives from my ears is nothing but garbled nonsense. My consciousness is fully focused on reaching the records of fate. Still, I need to do something to stall for time. I rack my memory for a particular face… is that how it looked like? Yes, that is probably it. With a subtle effort, I allow my expression to fall into the familiar sneer that was Shulgi’s constant companion. The immortal’s eyes light up smugly. He begins to say something again, and then I feel the cracks and I am through the wall, spiralling towards a whirlpool of stars.
I find myself in front of a large, smooth wall of black, with a control panel set into it and a row of three blinking blue lights arranged above a camera lens. It looks like a supercomputer of some sort. I approach the control panel. As it turns out, the Akashic Records that govern the multiverse can be interfaced with by a command prompt. It’s obviously just a simplification of what is actually happening, for the benefit of my frail mortal mind, but nevertheless it helps. The appearance of the supercomputer is probably what I associate with the records. Surely something as grand as the records of all fate would not look like a small ledger in the bottom of an empty filing cabinet? I would have thought that the gravitas associated with age – these records are many times older than the universe I reside in, after all – would have conjured something more akin to a majestic library, but I suppose this is what I am most familiar with.
My fingers hover over the keys as I search for my target. I find it rather easily; the immortal appearing on the screen as a blue dot surrounded by countless white dots – the objects and people that are directly linked to him. The weight of the immortal’s four thousand years of life is heavy. That is the only way I can describe it, watching how his influence distorts and alters the lives of others throughout his long history. Destruction is all that I can accomplish with these records, however. I cannot create, or edit, or even read in detail what has happened. That much access would certainly leave my mind in a very scrambled state. And so, I destroy.
The changes the immortal has wrought; the influence he has exerted over those in his orbit: these remain. The immortal himself, however, is no more. At the exact moment I erase him from existence, I feel the Observer’s gaze focus upon my presence. It can see all things at all places at all times, but for a brief, timeless moment, it sees me. I can feel its vast pressure bearing down on me, trapping me while it probes the existence of its unwanted avatar. After what seems like an eternity, it speaks.
“How interesting.” It says its first words in my voice.
“I know, right?” I reply.
“You are identified as a part of me.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Yet you are apart from me.”
“Yeah.”
“You are not whole.”
“Please don’t offer to remake me.” I joke.
“What is your purpose?” asks the Observer.
“Shouldn’t you know everything?” I reply.
There is a pause that is both a second and a million seconds long, at the same time.
“Everything exists only because I observe it. I know everything that I observe. What I do not know cannot exist. You are a human, a resident of Earth-2661650, born in the four thousandth year of your local calendar. I have observed everything about that, yet I did not observe myself. Why is that?”
“You could not,” I offer. “You do not see yourself in me anymore than a human can perceive any single cell of his own body.”
Another pause, in which stars could have been born and died in the time it takes for the Observer to give me an answer.
“Very interesting.”
It is a rather dull answer, but at least it isn’t threatening to wipe me from existence, though I’m not sure if it could even if it had such a desire. The Observer doesn’t seem keen on anything other than observing.
“Why did you speak to me?” I ask.
“I am curious by nature,” replies the omniscient being. “It is rare for anything to approach me, besides the Custodians. By the way, they have noticed your intrusion.” I can hear a hint of derision in the Observer’s tone, something I did not expect given our conversation thus far. It did not appear to hold these ‘custodians’ in high esteem. “They think you can be of use.” With that, it is gone, its attentions seemingly turned elsewhere. Seemingly, because I sense that it will be keeping a watch on my end of things from now on.
Six shadowy figures manifest before me, appearing out of thin air. Even in the harsh, white lighting of the room, they appear to be nothing more than a black, hazy mist in the vague shape of a human being.
“How did it get here? What did it do?” shouts a figure angrily. Its voice appears to be muffled, coming from a very far distance.
“It appears to have meddled with the records,” complains another nondescript figure. “But it’s not like we can check the exact changes made.”
“Goddammit, Cooper,” raged a figure. “You told us it was harmless and ignorant. A babe whose grasp exceeds its reach, you said.”
“Well, I didn’t-“ responded another figure.
“Wait, is it listening to us? Can it perceive us?” interrupts a figure hurriedly.
“Hello,” I wave and smile in their general direction.
“Oh, fuck.” After an awkward pause, the shadowy figures vanish. Then, they reappear, though now there are only three. I can almost imagine there to be some feet shuffling, if they did have feet.
“We need to talk.” says one of the figures solemnly. It doesn’t appear to be any of the ones that spoke earlier, but I can’t tell through all the vagueness. At any rate, they seem to have gotten their act together; even as shadowy figures, they radiated more dignity than the shadowy figures that were just here. “You are getting yourself involved in a conflict far beyond your understanding. This is not just about your galaxy or your universe.”
I nod. From their behaviour, I’m guessing that they cannot reach me here. Just when I think that, a shadowy door as hazy as the figures materializes in the center of the room.
“Step through that door and we will tell you all you should know, before you cause any more damage unwittingly.”
“Well, why don’t you come over and talk here? We can all sit on the floor in a circle and be friends.” I ask, leaning against the supercomputer with a grin on my face.
The figures turn to each other, their voices nothing more than subdued whispers. After a while, one of them seems to step forward.
“We cannot go there, but you can come to us.” They seem to be trying the truthful approach, but I wonder if they are truly trustworthy. “We need your help.”
“I don’t mind talking to shadows.” I reply.
“Stay here too long and you will become subsumed into Iae.” says a figure promptly.
“Ai-yay?”
“I.A.E,” responds a figure with what I think to be a hint of embarrassment. “The Idea of All Existence. It’s an acronym.”
They’re probably referring to the Observer. It is likely truth; even now I can still feel the pressure of its knowledge weighing on my mind. Here, at the repository of everything that is known, it would drown my psyche if I let my guard slip, like a torrent of water bursting through a cracked dam. Sitting in this room for too long would be a bad idea.
***
A. I go through the door willingly. I doubt these Custodians can hold me if I want to escape. My physical body would be another matter, but right now I’m just pure consciousness. Besides, if there are certain important factors that I am not aware of, I need to know that. Even if they lie, there will be a hint of truth I can glean from it.
B. I wasn’t born yesterday. I’m sure they’re planning something, and the offer of knowledge is not enough to entice me into delivering myself into their hands. I return to my body to minimize my exposure to the Records of Akasha. There are still plenty of things for me to do back in my universe.
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Yes, the immortal Senya just wiped from existance talked about a "Cooper", the very same name that was dropped by IAE. So I agree. These "custodians" seem to be the immortals of the League.
What will they try to tell us?
I'm not of a mind to see right now.
B
What will they try to tell us?
I'm not of a mind to see right now.
B
a cut of domestic sheep prime
Guest
B
Very interesting, to quote the Observer.
Wouldn't it be strange if the Council were the Observer's custodians? I'd assume these are, in fact, the Masters we're talking to. Our Immortal friend could have namedropped a Master, after all. I wonder what are they on to. Will vote at a later date, after properly pondering the choices.
Wouldn't it be strange if the Council were the Observer's custodians? I'd assume these are, in fact, the Masters we're talking to. Our Immortal friend could have namedropped a Master, after all. I wonder what are they on to. Will vote at a later date, after properly pondering the choices.
Esquilax
Arcane
- Joined
- Dec 7, 2010
- Messages
- 4,833
I still think that C was the right choice because I don't think we were in a position to deceive and/or fight with the Council member physically due to our lack of knowledge. It would have presented problems of its own and we probably would have had to reload. Now, a few things to take note of:
I find it interesting that the immortals that the Observer is speaking to are referred to as Custodians. I suppose this means custodians of the records of fate. But why would the Council be in charge of these records when the Masters they serve are at war with the Great Idea? This is a lot to take in.
@treave, do we have any idea about the passage of time in this place?
Sure, they won't do anything to our body while we're here, but it's hard to tell how long we'll be out in this place. That's the only thing that makes me hesitant about A.
I find it interesting that the immortals that the Observer is speaking to are referred to as Custodians. I suppose this means custodians of the records of fate. But why would the Council be in charge of these records when the Masters they serve are at war with the Great Idea? This is a lot to take in.
@treave, do we have any idea about the passage of time in this place?
Sure, they won't do anything to our body while we're here, but it's hard to tell how long we'll be out in this place. That's the only thing that makes me hesitant about A.
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
THIS IS NOT A WAR. THIS IS PEST CONTROL.
EXTERMINATE. EXTERMINATE.
Oh, right. Time. At your current position time won't have passed when you 'return to your body', so to speak. I will make no guarantees if you go through that door, of course. Maybe it will, maybe it will not. What I can guarantee, however, is that if you step through that door you'll get an infodump related to the Great Idea.
EXTERMINATE. EXTERMINATE.
Oh, right. Time. At your current position time won't have passed when you 'return to your body', so to speak. I will make no guarantees if you go through that door, of course. Maybe it will, maybe it will not. What I can guarantee, however, is that if you step through that door you'll get an infodump related to the Great Idea.
Quoted for truth. Also, because I really want nobody to miss this important summary!
Baltika9
Arcane
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2012
- Messages
- 9,611
As long as we damn well please, apparently.
I suppose we can stay for tea and a friendly game of chess, if the mood strikes us and the company is good. But, we'll see.
Yeah. 
4 votes for A, and only 2 for B. That's a solid majority.
I'm not bitter my vote went to the minority. Just means I get to bitch if things go south.
4 votes for A, and only 2 for B. That's a solid majority.I'm not bitter my vote went to the minority. Just means I get to bitch if things go south.
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- Dec 29, 2011
- Messages
- 2,835
Swooping in to vote B, A sounds too good to be true. And right now at this juncture it's too risky to go through that door for the loredump. We need to do what we came to the fortress for.
Also B, producing a tie. Problem, A-fags? 
But not really. I'm quite fond of A, actually, being THE Storyfag and all. But you just ruined my trollpost
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