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(RFC) Untitled SI (Nanoha)
 
Bluemage Wrote:Son, I am disappoint. You got the whole 'new body' thing, but not the how of it. Hint: "ego barrier bilocated" is sort of important.
So, when Ford says he's beside himself, he isn't necessarily describing his emotional state...?
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Okay, looking back at my previous posts, I don't really see how the yes-no-maybes line up, aside from "I'm not Quaar so heck no" to my Trollface Kamen suggestion of tea parties and hair braiding. It would be nice if your OC's presence could at least avert some of the mental dickery that led to the later Numbers being even more repressed than the rest, at least. Also, isn't Cinque supposed to be activated before Quattro despite having a higher number? Dunno how much before.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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ECS: You can do marvelous things with the Light of the Soul and some fiber-optic cabling.  Look at me.
I was consciously using Eva lingo for that, just to make it comprehensible.
CD: Typo fixed, phrasing altered.  Thanks.
There's a line or two in StrikerS about how ISes aren't actually magic.  The Sound Stages describe CCs as having their implants powered off their linker cores.  On top of that, you know how every single gadget drone generates AMF?  The Numbers were designed to fight alongside them.  Their attacks are so dangerous partly because they don't give a rat's behind about the heavy AMF their support drones generate.
That was JS binding me, and also Fate in their final confrontation.  He has a glove Device that produces rather odd red binding magic, and, if memory serves, bound Fate before entering the room in the anime.
Averted dickery?  If I can swing it.  Do you remember who was responsible for said dickery? :3
Cinque comes out of the tube about a year earlier.
As for the string of responses:No, the upload wasn't complete;Transhuman?  Sort of.Based on old body?  Yes.Artificial mage clone?  I misread that; the answer should've been no, but I said yes.  Not an existing clone.24ish tubed subjects?  Nope, but 24 numbered tubes.  Most were empty.Troll response?  Heck no.
Rob: At that point, 'I' was both a human brain and a computer, both connected to the sensory input of my old body.  Then I lost the human brain.  After that, I got expanded to computer and a different brain, and then the computer was removed from the process (and the new body's senses linked up with the mind).  End result: me in a different body.
**********

It's funny.  The first time I was born, I came out a week or two late.  Mom always liked to joke that I was reading a book, and didn't want to come out.
The second time I was born, I was almost as bad.
I remember the pain of that last session with Scaglietti.  I remember finishing an entry in my journal, only to have Tre come in as I finished.  I remember the tortuous trip to the lab, and the instinctual panic I felt when I was locked down.
Huh.  I guess he owns at least one chair.
I remember the pain in my chest getting worse, like tendrils of fire were trying to reach out into my body, only to hit a wall before they could stretch too far... and a curious sensation at the same time, like my mind was bigger than my head.  All of this, I felt with a vividity that surprised me.  Usually my memories are rather dull.  Why's this one so detailed?
Then there was light, and warmth, and a blessed surcease of pain.  Then sleep claimed me.
When I woke to the same gentle warmth, my first thought was was that all a dream?  I didn't dare open my eyes and find out.  Maybe it was some sort of childish impulse- if I don't open my eyes, it won't be time to wake up!- or maybe it was just laziness.  I didn't know, and I didn't care.  For the time being, I was alone, with only my thoughts to keep me company, and I was determined to enjoy it.
I couldn't tell you how long I drifted like that.  Time really has no meaning, without the world to give it one.  I just relaxed, let my mind wander, and tried- very successfully!- to ignore the random bits of pins-and-needles I felt here and there.
Feeling myself drift downward was hard to ignore.  I'd not had to deal with gravity for some place between five minutes and an eternity; returning to its harsh embrace was a bit of a shock.  Then came the feeling of a (thankfully warm) metal grating under my feet, and (not so warm) air against my face.
I'd've enjoyed that part a bit better, if I wasn't doubled over at the time, trying to cough up a bunch of rather odd-tasting fluid.  Huh.  Rather tangy, but it sort of tasts like blood.  Anno-san would be amused, I bet.  Finally, I was able to breathe... and was instantly amazed by how easily I could do so!  It felt wonderful- like a great weight had been lifted off my chest.
It felt so good, in fact, that I decided to risk opening my eyes.  Nearly passed out from sensory overload from that.  Whoa, there's a whole WORLD out here?  Who turned up the draw distance on reality?  Never mind that- who turned up the texture quality?!
So, like an idiot, I looked up- right into one of the overhead lights.  Huh.  It's a light.
...wait a minute.  Why aren't I squeezing my eyes shut and wincing in pain?  Did they turn down the lighting, too?

Then I looked down.
...and why is the ground so close?  Why am I so thin?  Why am I a KID?!

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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... he turned you into an adolescent goat?

Hah, okay okay, I'll put the trollface mask away. I swear, it appears on its own like Ichigo's hollow mask.

As for the agedown, well, IC you wanted to be able to train your linker core stronger (and only gave the man a month or so to grow a clone body, you should be glad it can stand up!) OOC, how else would you interact with the canon cast without getting stuffed in a pedobear costume and/or diced into many small pieces by the Takamachi ninja bakers?
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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I'm going to have to title this thing at some point.  Suggestions will be read, appreciated, and given due consideration.
CD:  Oh, don't put it away on my account.  If I can't deal with your trollface, how could I ever survive SB?
...besides, it's not like you can hold it for more than seven seconds at a time.  You need TRAINING!
As for the agedown, well, IC I'm a bit discombobulated and wasn't quite thinking up to snuff yet (and if JS can pull half the SCIENTIFIC! BS he's managed so far, aging a clone to order isn't a big deal).  OOC, how else would I participate in the canon events without getting owned for being far past my prime?
(Also, your IC reason is precisely why the clone is eight, instead of any other specific age.)
**********
Entry 22 (Day 88)
That man is a genius.  Morally challenged?  Possibly.  Mad?  Definitely.  But brilliant?  That was never in question.
Jail Scaglietti's most recent act of insane brilliance was to fulfill the spirit of my request, while tying the letter of it into knots.  Instead of trying to make my linker core larger, he decided to give me a larger core... and he didn't do that by transplanting a new core into my body, but by transplanting me into a body with a large enough core.
In this case, a body created from my genetic material, altered by the doctor himself to be an artificial mage, converted into a combat cyborg, and then artificially aged to an eight-year-old state.
I've been doing my research, and it turns out that what I'd asked of Scaglietti- namely, to have my linker core enhanced to a level that'd let me cast magic- has pretty much been proven impossible.  All the reputable scientists have done the tests, run the numbers, and consigned the concept to the hazardous waste bin of history... usually right before getting very drunk.  As for the disreputable scientists...
I've seen the statistics and the video recordings.  If you break somebody's linker core, what's left of them won't live long.  Fortunately.
Needless to say, I'm rather pleased with the current state of affairs.  Not only did I not die painfully, but I got what I wanted out of the deal... on top of twenty more years of lifespan, and literally superhuman strength, speed, endurance, health, and senses.  I think the doctor was rather surprised at how well I was coping with it all, when he talked with me yesterday.
Huh.  So that's how they get in and out of those tubes.  I wasn't really expecting that.  Good to see it left me dry.
It wasn't all that hard to figure out why I was a kid right now, once I'd had a second or two to get over the initial shock of being one.  It made logical sense, after all.
At some point during that particular mental exercise, I'd been removed from my own personal people jar.  The feeling of a cold breeze over certain exposed parts of me put me right back into shock, albeit more of a I'mnakedinanunfamiliarroomHELP! sort of mental state.  Took me four seconds of mindless panic to realize that there was nobody else in the room, and another couple to notice the set of clothes sitting on the table next to me.
They were duplicates of my usual work outfit- a steel blue T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black semi-dressy shoes- but scaled down to fit my current form.  Man, one of my old tees would practically be a nightdress on me now.  Wish I could get some shorts... or some of the shirts that weren't work-safe.  I'd kill to have my 'Stand Back- I'm Going To Try SCIENCE!' shirt here.Still, even if it wasn't my favorite outfit ever, being clothed made me feel a whole lot better.   Well, it did- right up until my traitorous new brain produced one specific thought: What happens now?  The thought wormed around in my head, all sorts of consequences and options coming to mind until I realized I'd lost track of them all, and wasted thirty-two seconds of mental effort.
What was needed wasn't idle thought, but a spot of focused brainstorming.  I found a comfortable corner, laid down on the ground (snickering to myself as I did- apparently, my old childhood habit of laying down in the oddest shapes had come back with a vengeance), and began to sort through the possible situations I could imagine, and all the ways I could see them going from here.

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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Titles... "SCIENCE! on the Lam" maybe?

"Now Serving Number...."

"Operation Jail Bait" that should be the chapter where you put your Cunning Plan(tm) in action at least

"Do Artificial Mages Dream of Thaumivorous Sheep?"

"Friend Request"

"Unlimited Desire Works" no, that would be protag-JS

"Joining the Reindeer Games" Though the problem initially was NOT having a large and shiny core

Segment was good, but a natural low point in tension after resolving the lackamojo arc and moving to the next obstacle.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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My own personally recommendation : Offer a lab coat to Jail with, one one side, the quote you just thought of, and "Science. It works, bitches." on the other. Possibly with a pressure cooker on the back.

Keep up the good work.
-People may die, but ideas are forever. Je suis Charlie.
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I *like* Operation: Jail Bait.  It's sufficiently vague that I don't think it'll provide any real spoilers itself, and it fits in at least two places.  It would mean that you'd want to have a close fic/open next fic for whatever timeskip you're running to get him back up to appropriate age and alongside the known characters, but that's not necessarily a bad thing.
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I'm not going to address the title suggestions yet.  I'd like to see if I can get a few more ideas in first.  I do like two of CD's ideas, though, and have one of my own.
As for some of the others, well...
I'd like to see somebody write UDW.  Could be interesting.
"Friend Request" implies a certain amount of masochistic sociability that I'm not all that pleased with.  Why would I *want* a befriending?  Would I even be offered one, or just a KWEP?
Seraviel: One too many slogans, methinks... and what's with the pressure cooker?
I'm now imagining JS in front of a barbecue, wearing the traditional 'Kiss The Cook' apron.  Thank you *ever so much* for that. >.<
**********

The thing about planning, brainstorming... whatever you want to call it... is that it's not a definite process.  There's a beginning, but no real end point.
Because of that, I was finished with my planning session well before the door opened... and yet it was still an interruption.Oh, look.  Herr Doktor Fraunkenshtein himself.  Wonder which approach he's going to take?
"Ah, you're functional!  Wonderful!  Truly wonderful!"  From where I was- and it was so weird having to look up at the guy- Scaglietti looked like Christmas had come early. 
"What did you think about your little adventure, hmm?  How did it feel to escape DEATH ITSELF?!"  The doctor was doing his best impression of a medical scanner suite, looking me over from what felt like every direction at once.  It was starting to make me feel claustrophobic, actually.  Everywhere I looked, there he was.
"Doctor!"  Both of us stopped what we were doing (trying to escape, and attempting to do... something... with a tool that looked entirely too cold and metallic for my dignity, respectively) when we heard Uno.  "If you want him to talk, then let him talk!  Give him space to breathe!"  Surprisingly enough, he backed off at this.  I got a chance to catch my breath, calm down a bit, and prepare an answer.
Okay, Uno is officially Best Number.  Why didn't she get more time on the show?
I cupped my chin with one hand, tapping my cheek with a finger as I thought.  "I remember the procedure you performed yesterday- more accurately, I remember being subjected to a procedure yesterday.  More importantly, I don't remember any lapses in consciousness until after the procedure, and yet I'm currently inhabiting a different body than I started in.
Would I be correct to assume you're attempting to document the effects of your consciousness-transfer process, and not, say, the emotional impact of surviving what felt like the mother of all
heart attacks?"  At Jail's eager nod- he looks like a puppy begging for a treat!- I smirked.  "Well, I'm going to have to disappoint you, then.  I was in no condition to take accurate stock of my own senses.  The crippling pain sort of made that difficult."
Jail's face fell.  For a moment, he actually looked sad... before I decided to cheer him up a bit.  "I did notice one phenomena that may have been related to the consciousness transfer.  The best description I can give is that it felt like my mind was larger than my head.  I couldn't say for certain, but that sounds like it's probably related."  I thought for a second, trying to stoke a beard I no longer had.  "If there were any other effects, I couldn't distinguish them from the aftereffects of that test the day before."
I pressed on, taking the conversation for my own before he could respond.  "Speaking of that test, what was that?  Why did it feel like it was tearing... me... apart...?"  I trailed off, the implications of my own statement hitting me like a freight train made of brick walls.
The doctor nodded.  "It seems you figured it out.  I had to give you a new linker core," he explained, nonchalant as can be, "and the old one was in the way.  So I got rid of it."
I was a bit shocked by this.  Understandably, I think, since Scaglietti had just casually admitted to wiping out what little magic I'd had.  Given that, losing my inner monologue for a little bit while I reevaluated the situation was eminently understandable.  Really, it was... as was the pacing to and fro.  At least, that's how I hoped they'd rationalize it.
"...destroying a linker core almost always results in death.  Proven fact.  Linker core attached to body- cause of death would be from effect of destruction on body.  I'm in a different body, so not connected to old core, so not dead."  I stopped muttering, stopped walking for a bit, and looked up at the doctor, watching him watching me.  "Artificial mage?"  He blinked, and nodded.
That said, I went back to my pacing and my 'thinking'.  "Connected to new core in new body, so mage.  Core destroyed before transfer.  Plan from the beginning.  Not a dead child, so core works.  Always seem to know time, have no problem looking at lights... must be augmented."  Still pacing, I looked back over to ask another question.  "Cyborg?"  Again, the doctor nodded.
"Okay with that.  Sensible.  Growing a clone anyway, going to send it into combat- why not make it better?  Plenty of time- plan scheduled for sixteen years later- why not make young?"  I stopped pacing, turned to face the doctor entirely, and smiled up at him, swinging my arms forward and back a bit.  "Great.  Where do we go from here?"
"...what?"
My grin got even wider.  "You know- in your plan for me.  What's the next step?"
If I'd had to guess, Doctor Scaglietti wasn't used to having people around who could think through things at even a fraction of his speed- or people who could fake it, even.  I'd put him off-balance a bit, figuring out what had happened in front of him.  My question, though, seemed to put him back on track, judging from the grin and chuckling.
I think I just signed myself up for more SCIENCE!

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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Ah, the monitors are chirping, the mana lines are blue, you're a brand new spanking, fully functional, whole new better you!

Come! To the lab! It's a wonderful day for SCIENCE!

In my mage laboratory, we'll reexamine history, we'll show them all the things they said none could or should or even ever would want to do!

Come! To the lab! It's a wonderful day for SCIENCE!
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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(dance routine)

We'll find it all and take it all and study it all and learn it all and create it all and destroy it all and repair it all and observe it all and record it all and re-pro-duce it ALL!

And over nay sayers we'll lord it all, and never distribute our hoard at all, because we'll have conquered the world and all, and all that is will hear the call, and answer it all with SCIENCE!

Come! To the lab! It's a wonderful day for SCIENCE!

Yes every day is a wonderful day, a stupendous, magical,
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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marvelous day, every day is a WONDERFUL DAY for SCIII~ENCE!

(So how's that for feeding your disturbing mental images?

The title of this track on the orignial cast recording is "Unlimited SCIENCE!" It's commonly called "Jail's theme" even though the actual theme played when he's the dominant chacter on stage only shares a few phrases with it and has a slower, more menacing tempo. None the less, this is the one that was popular enough to get some play on commercial music 'casts even after the show closed.)
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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By dint of rather excessive editing, I've actually kicked that into a state where I can actually sing it without stumbling over awkward changes in accented syllable patterns (no, you DON'T want to hear it) though the 'tune' probably has even less than implied in common with Jail's theme from StrikerS. The general angle I'm playing here is that sometime after the JS Incident, a musical show was made about it - possibly as part of a PR campaign to make people less antsy about accepting the reformed Numbers
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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(and presumably also Ford) doing public service rather than vanishing into the Mid version of Guatanamo Bay, never to ply their destructive ways again.

Or, you know, it could just be that you SI'd into one of those universes where real life has theme music and spontaneous musical and dance numbers. That can happen too, though shame on you for filtering it out to look more dignified until now.

We don't give no spits for dignity! Come on, give us all of it from the first notes of "Alone am I, and Confused"
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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...the only part of this that disturbs me is that I can't place the background theme- and I watched all of StrikerS, all of three weeks ago, just for this.  If you could Youtube the theme you mentioned, I'd be much less disturbed.
Also, if you look into what happened to people post-StrikerS, most of them are just doing civil service, the way Fate did.  Most of the Numbers got adopted.  I think JS, Uno, and Quattro are the only ones that got locked up, actually- and Uno chose to be locked up.  All Ford has to do is turn coat at the right time, not cause fatalities, and avoid being an unrepentant psychopath, and he can go straight into being a probationary Enforcer or what have you.
Also, due to events, the ending you've envisioned isn't going to happen on several levels.
On a legitimately unrelated note, transformation sequences are far harder to write than I'd expected, especially since I actually have an idea of what's going to happen in mine.  It just comes out as a wall of description.
I may just do a basic 3D model of some of it, and post a pic of that in place of a lot of description.  Thoughts?
**********

Yep.  Definitely more SCIENCE!
We were down in the depths of the giant lab complex Jail Scaglietti called a base, and I was already confused.  I'd been walking as fast as I could- stupid short legs!- to keep up with the doctor,
through paths I'd never taken.  All of them looked the same, of course.
I was actually confused because I wasn't confused.  I knew where I was- not to some arbitrary measure of precision, but in terms of the maze the doctor called a lab.  I knew the path I'd taken, and where I was in relation to the main lab.  Heck, if asked, I could've led us back there.
I shouldn't know any of that.
All too soon, we were standing in front of a rather thick-looking set of blast doors.  Scaglietti held up his Device, the gem on the back of it glowing red with power, and the door responded, lowering slowly into the floor.  Oddly enough, it sounded sort of like the door to a holodeck, if slower and more drawn-out.
What I saw inside was a big ol' load of nothing.  Well, that, and a set of walls, all of them liberally covered with hatches.  As I looked around, I heard the sound of hydraulics behind me, and whirled around- only to see one of the hatches on the floor had opened.  A new floor section- this one equipped with some sort of freestanding rack and what looked like the shooter's end of a pistol range- smoothly rose out of the hole, connecting up with the floor around it.
Hmm.  The range looks fancier than the ones on Earth- no telling what all it does.  Maybe scanning?  Shielding?  And that looks like a spear rack, but... oh no.
"Can you hear me?  Good."
Freaking doctor didn't even let me answer.  Wait- where is he?
Scaglietti was, in fact, nowhere within sight.  His voice was quite literally coming out of thin air- a rather interesting effect, especially since it sounded like he was on all sides of me at once.
"Right now, you are standing in the most potent magical containment room this base possesses.  You will have noticed that I did not follow you in; in fact, neither Uno nor I am within a quarter kilometer of you at the moment.  There is a very good reason for that."  All of the man's usual... how should I put it... 'affable maliciousness' was absent from his voice; what I was hearing right now was Doctor Jail Scaglietti, master engineer and lost logia expert.
Gulp.  This could be nothing, or it could be very, very bad."I have made of you a weapon unlike any other.  Unfortunately, that means that nobody- not even me- knows precisely what you can do.  Only a fool wields a weapon without first learning its capabilities, and I am not a fool.
Today, you are going to perform a series of standard testing exercises.  This will allow me to measure your magical power, endurance, and total capacity. 
You will find a standard TSA Storage Device resting in the rack to your left.  Pick it up, and proceed to the firing range in front of you."
What a relief.  It's just magical training.  For a second, I thought he'd decided to kill me.Picking up the Device, I walked over to the range, stopping in one of the shooting positions.  Suppressing a grimace, I hefted the mook-stick I'd been issued.  I really hope I'm not stuck with this thing.  It's like wearing white armor over a red shirt.
I feel less important already.

"You will find an indentation in the top of the panel in front of you.  Set the shaft of your Device in that hole, and slide it forward until it balances."
I did as instructed, lifting the Device up to almost shoulder level, and setting the 'neck' of it in the indent that the doctor mentioned.  It slid forward about six inches, before reaching equilibrium with a surprisingly audible click.  The air above the Device rippled, turning slightly more blue with a quiet hum of power.  A shield?  Clever.
"Good.  Now, pull up some mana into your linker core.  If your reading list is any guide, you should already know the procedure...," he said, sounding faintly amused for a moment.  Sobering up, he went on.  "...and if my work was successful, you'll already have a familiarity with it."
Wouldn't you know it?  He was right.  I'd never tried to link mana before, not having the ability, but it felt like I'd been doing it for years.  Not many of them, and I had to consciously work through parts of the process, but it felt more like shaking the rust off an older skill than learning a new one.
The core of the Device I was holding lit up, somehow managing to brightly glow a darker shade of blue, and began to hum.  The pitch and volume of the hum went up sharply, going from a low, quiet sound to a piercing howl, over the next .3 seconds.
I didn't bother watching the process.  The instant I heard it start to hum, I hit the deck.  Good thing, too- after that three-tenths of a second, the Device ceased to exist- explosively.  From behind the range and its shield, I heard the boom, and felt the force of it pushing on the range... but that was all.
Once the last bits of Device had settled to the ground, I got back up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and went around to the other side of the range to check out the damage.  Nothing.  Not a scratch on the range, nor the floor.  The head of the Device had been blown to bits, of course, and the bits had been scattered across the area, but that was it.  That was the second-wimpiest overload I've ever seen.  Stupid things can't even explode correctly.  Oh, well.
The room didn't have any windows, obvious cameras, or other features that said 'mad scientist observing from here', which sort of made it hard to snark at Scaglietti.  I settled for looking up at the ceiling in front of me, smirking.  "What now?"

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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Ah yes, the all important scene that proves Conventional Weapons Are Useless, if from a slightly different angle than the usual.

As for music, well, I can't do youtube video on the PSPotato, either, but I have no idea about StrikerS music except that it probably had some beyond OP/ED themes - the closest you'd get to what I've been singing it to would be a medley of Tom Lehrer's _Smut!_ and _It Makes A Fellow Proud To Be A Soldier._ Nothing I could give a link to even with a fully functional computer.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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Too Much Power? Or a device destructor ability?

Or, for that matter, both?
________________________________
--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?
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Feel free to include that or any of my other replies as omake when you get around to posting this somewhere else, by the way.

As for the transformation sequence, sometimes a big stretch of descrptive text is what it takes to tell the story. Just make sure to break it up into paragraphs as the actions change so it's not a huge wall-o-text and edit ruthlessly for even a single word that's not neccessary to describe the scene you want the reader to visualise, to make it no longer than it has to be.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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Ah, and WRT how things worked out in the end in canon, the fact that it went that way is why I figure there was some kind of PR wizardry giing on, even with the TSAB pretty much being a military junta with no civilian oversight - the Numbers threw at least the capital city into chaos and launched a massive, superpowered battleship into its airspace. That kind of thing terrifies people and makes them demand harsh punishment of the perpetrators, unless they're somehow redirected.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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Dartz: It wasn't my IS, I'll tell you that much.  I have plans for that.
CD: I sort of figured that the TSA just upped the G-28 Paxilon Hydrochlorate concentration, and let it all smooth itself over.  I have plans for how to deal with that, too.
As for the song, I probably won't do anything with it- I'd be tempted to write fic around it, and I doubt I can do it justice.  If I do, I'll attribute the lyrics to you.  Wish you had a computer, so I could just say "post it yourself".
The transformation sequence is actually better than I'd thought, so it'll stay.  I'm actually past that point, and a post or so into Book 2!  Incidentally, everything posted here is going to get a looking over before it goes on SB- oh, and a framing device I've not seen before.
**********

Huh.  So that's why you don't see chairs around here.
The last hour had gone remarkably quickly.  After blowing up that first Device, I was hustled back up to my quarters by Uno; according to her, the doctor had taken one look at the readings from that last test, grabbed a case from one of his storerooms, and shut himself in a lab.  Until he came back out, she told me, I was dismissed.
To my surprise, I ended up taking a nap.  I don't do that, as a rule; my mind is always chewing on something or other, so bringing my train of thought to a deliberate halt tends to be difficult, at best.  I have a hard enough time getting to sleep at night, much less during the best hours of the day.
Of course, before I could nap, I had to find a bed.  When I asked Uno, her first response was a surprised "You don't know?"  Turns out there's no furniture in the complex at all.  Whenever you need a chair, table, bed, or anything of the sort, you call up a program on the nearest console, and a hard-light construct is provided to order.  I ended up rezzing up a bed, laying down in it (just to see what it was like), and waking up forty-three minutes later.
Still yawning.  Man, that was a good nap.
The door to the containment room finally locked into position, and I walked in.  As I did so, the hatch in the floor opened again, disgorging the same range and rack as last time.  What waited for me in the spear rack, though, was definitely different.  It had clearly started life as a generic TSA Storage Device, just like the one I'd exploded last session.  The basic shape hadn't been changed... but just about everything else had.
The original Device had had fairly clean lines.  Silver pole, golden two-pronged head, round core between the prongs- simple and effective.  None of that had survived the doctor's work.  The pole had been reinforced with what looked like iron bands and rivets, both down its length, and around it at regular intervals.  The head of the Device had been covered with an almost organic tracery of gray metal, intricate webs of it winding over every surface of it.  On top of that, the rounded core was apparently now larger, faceted, and rotating slowly around its polar axis.  This thing's a mess.  I guess even in this 'verse, rush jobs aren't pretty.  Let's see if it works.
Snatching it from the rack with one hand, I walked over to the range.  Despite the alterations, the modified Device still fit perfectly in place, and the safety shield activated just as it had before.  Probably best if I wait for clearance before I feed it any mana.  The doctor seems to be taking this testing seriously, and I don't want to make him mad.
Almost exactly thirty seconds later, he spoke up.  "Very good.  You may link mana whenever ready."
Here's hoping this works.  I focused my attention inward- not pushing power out or holding it back, but just letting it flow- and very hesitantly looked up over the edge of the range at the core of the Device.
Three seconds passed.  The core of it, while brightly lit, wasn't getting any brighter.  Nothing was humming.  The Device failed to explode.
If I had to guess, I'd say the thing was stable. 
"...mana source detected, core connection established... power tap nominal.  Everything is functioning perfectly.  I'm activating the first testing program now.  It will run on its own- all you have to do is keep the Device supplied with mana."
As he said this, I felt the mana leave my linker core in a rush.  With the familiar double chime, a deep blue magic circle formed in front of me.  It was an interesting shade of navy blue- darker than most of the magic I'd seen to date, but bright enough that I could still see the blue color in it.  Well, that's a relief.  If it'd been any other color, I'd've had to change my wardrobe... and blue is really my color.  Actually, I think I had a shirt that color... wait, is it *wobbling*?
In the time I'd spent thinking, the perfect circle in front of me had started spinning faster and faster.  It started to stretch and warp, wobbling in all directions as it stopped resembling a circle. 
Then, with a tortured squeal, the outer ring of the circle shattered.  Bits and pieces of mana flew in every direction for one long, scary second.
Predictably, they exploded.

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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Bluemage Wrote:The last hour had gone remarkably quickly. After blowing up that first Device, I was hustled back up to my quarters by Uno; according to her, the doctor had taken one look at the readings from that last test, grabbed a case from one of his storerooms, and shut himself in a lab.
It was a case of the finest Belkan Pale Ale, and the doctor was getting very drunk.

Okay, maybe as an omake...
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012
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Ah, the Explosion element affinity. You truly do belong with us among the spacebattles.

(This comment would work much better if actually posted when the story goes up there, but the opening was just too good to ignore... plus I've only managed to log in there as dialNforNinja like, twice, due to some wierd bullshit with the password system. Not that the name I use instead hasn't been connected to me here, or I'm doing any of those dickish handpuppet tricks, but it's actually been fun as a no name noob.)
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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IT LIVES!
Sorry for the time off, but I've been at Kumoricon for about 75% of the last three days, running on little sleep and lots of excitement.  No writing was accomplished during that time.
Rob:  I am tempted, oh so very tempted, to make that canon...
CD: I will only say that there is a difference between an affinity and an Affinity, and Affinity is a Thing in the 'verse.  Unfortunately, my letter 'a' is too small.
**********
Entry 23 (Day 93)
Five days.  It's taken five whole days, three Storage Devices, and a sizable amount of testing equipment, but I FINALLY managed to get through the entire Standard Magical Capability Test!
Well, most of it.  The parts I'm capable of, anyway.  Irony, thy name is Magic.
My memory's gotten a lot better since my rebirth, so I don't technically have to write this stuff down any longer.  If I want to remember it, I do.  Perfectly.  There are limitations, of course, but that's a story for another time.  Suffice it to say that I currently remember every word of Scaglietti's lecture on linker core theory as it pertains to my own situation, but I find writing down the situation as I understand it helps me comprehend more of it.
The long and short of it is that one's ability to perform magic can't be boiled down to a single statistic or ranking.  There are a good half-dozen factors that contribute to 'power level' alone, and how well they balance with each other determines what a mage can do.
First step is the ability to generate mana, which determines how quickly a mage recovers from casting.  Then comes maximum mana capacity- the size of your MP pool.
The third important attribute is the performance of one's, for lack of a better word, links- the metaphysical connections between the linker core and one's mana supply.  If they're too small, you might have S-rank mana stores, but be limited to D-rank spells because you just can't tap that fast enough.
Fourth is linker core size, which is the other potential limiting factor on a mage's max thoroughput.  To switch metaphors, the mana system is like a city, and the people inside it are power.  Say you had a business (that's your spell), and were trying to get people in to visit it.  The road leading to your business is the mana/core link.  The business is the spell, and its parking lot would be the linker core.
Next comes linker core strength, which is a blanket term for a collection of measurements, two of which have an impact on 'power level'.  Core durability influences magical endurance- how well one can take the damage extended high-power casting and spell backlashes cause.  Core plasticity measures how far one's core can expand, which dictates how effectively one can force themselves past their normal limits.  The best Belkan knights all have high plasticity... or burn themselves out eventually.
The term 'power level' is apparently a useful abstraction because, for most mages, most or all of these values scale up in proportion to each other.  Variations exist, and aren't actually all that uncommon, but they're usually no more than 2/3 of a rank.  Somebody like my first example- an S-rank mana capacity with D-rank mana/core links- would be an extreme oddity, to the point of having medical studies done on them to determine why.
The problem I had with the test is that I'm one of those 'extreme oddities'.  Three of them, actually- my mana system, linker core, and the links between them are, all of them, strange.
To start, I have the linker core of an S-rank mage right now.  Keeping my current age in mind, I should be able to get it up to SS-rank with enough training.  Apparently, the doctor did something to it as it was developing, because my core is almost the toughest he's ever seen.  I don't have to worry about hurting myself with magic, basically, even if I push myself.  The tradeoff is that my core has virtually no plasticity to it, so I can't boost my output at all.  No Blaster System, no cartridges- none of that.
My current body's mana system was designed with both capacity and endurance in mind.  I've at least S+ capacity, and a similar rank in mana generation.  On top of that, the doctor did some tinkering on my metabolism... but I'll get into that when I need it.
So far, so good, right?  Here's the problem.  The connection between my core and my mana system is... quirky.  It works... as long as I'm trying to link enough mana to power an A-rank spell or higher.  Anything lower, and nothing happens.
The problem is that linker cores work on a per-spell basis.  If I cast a spell, it gets no less than A-rank power channeled into it, and lower-order magic isn't built to handle that much power. 
Simple spells break when I cast them- almost always in indiscriminately explosive ways.
The doctor kept his word.  Unfortunately, he managed to keep it to the letter.
I have to wonder if it was intentional.

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.
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Quote:The doctor kept his word. Unfortunately, he managed to keep it to the letter.

I have to wonder if it was intentional.

This is Jail Scaglietti we're talking about. Do you even have to ask?
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
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Ah, now I see - you have Big Magic, so you can't do tiny spells without redesigning them to work in horribly inefficient ways that use only a tiny portion of the spell's energy for the real effect, and burns the rest on showmanship or just plain mutually-opposing busywork.

Try creating a spell that causes a B-rank continuous force burst but contains it in a B-rank spherical shield, but throws off small, weak "anchor lines" that attach to nearby items and try to keep it immobile relative to them despite
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows
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