Sorry about the lack of updates. Weekend sucked. My muse is back, and with it, my motivation to post.
No comments on the thing last post? Sad.
CD: The answer is someplace between zero and eight, depending on how you define 'shoot down', and which attacks count as SB-equivalent.
Oh, and get out of my head. It's not safe for you there.
**********
Entry 20 (Day 77)
...I signed up to be a lab rat. WHY did I sign up to be a lab rat, again?
Oh, right. Magic. Good reason, that.
Over the last two months (and change; I did manage to figure out how long elapsed in between Entry 18 and Entry 19, and have been keeping track of the days since), I've been poked, prodded, drained, scanned, enervated, energized, psychoanalyzed, heavily marginalized, and massively demoralized. By my reckoning, I've been through every single form of medical testing ever devised... and a few that Doctor Scaglietti invented himself.
In that time, I've noticed a fairly clear progression. The first few tests were non-invasive scans, of the sort that just required me to stand in the doctor's lab for a few monutes, and then leave. After a day or so of that sort of test, the sampling started... 'nuff said about that. Then came the energy-based tests, most of which involved standing in front of a glowing plate of some sort, and letting the doctor see what happened.
I know at least some of those tests were magical in nature. I could feel it. Having your linker core stretched to its limits is... rather memorable. Sort of feels like a heart attack and a real bad case of indigestion, all at once.
That was a really bad day. I was barely able to ignore the pain (a burning ache all over) long enough to limp, slowly, to my quarters. Once I was laying down and not doing anything, most of the pain died down, leaving me in just enough discomfort to focus my mind.
Makes it rather hard to sleep, I can tell you.
The day after, I managed to ask the doctor whether he could do anything about that. His response was, and I quote, "The data that I'm gathering requires that you remain fully aware of your condition. Accept the pain. Relish it, as a symptom of your coming rebirth!" Those were his exact words.
Anyway, the magical testing soon gave way to a new flavor of torment- boredom. I had to lay on an examination table, staying reasonably still... and that's about it. Some days, I'd be spending hours laying there, thinking of nothing- and I do mean 'nothing', and Scaglietti would let me know if I was thinking too hard. Other days, he'd ask me questions while I was laying there, and I'd be tasked to think through the question, assemble the most complete answer I could, and then recite the answer I'd thought up.
The interesting days were the ones when I'd be given math problems to solve. I was initially given a screen with the problem on it, along with the ability to verbally order the screen to update, substituting for the ability to write, I surmise. As time went on, my access to those conveniences decreased.
It's fairly obvious what's going on, when you think about it. I'm going to have to be made a mage, hence the physical and magical testing. High-level Devices have to be customized to fit their user, which includes mental synchronization- the boredom and questioning tests are obviously part of that. As for the math testing, well, I suspect that that test was doing triple duty- teaching me the fundamentals for magic, getting me trained to do mental math, while training my future Device to cast with me. A good sign, really.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
No comments on the thing last post? Sad.
CD: The answer is someplace between zero and eight, depending on how you define 'shoot down', and which attacks count as SB-equivalent.
Oh, and get out of my head. It's not safe for you there.
**********
Entry 20 (Day 77)
...I signed up to be a lab rat. WHY did I sign up to be a lab rat, again?
Oh, right. Magic. Good reason, that.
Over the last two months (and change; I did manage to figure out how long elapsed in between Entry 18 and Entry 19, and have been keeping track of the days since), I've been poked, prodded, drained, scanned, enervated, energized, psychoanalyzed, heavily marginalized, and massively demoralized. By my reckoning, I've been through every single form of medical testing ever devised... and a few that Doctor Scaglietti invented himself.
In that time, I've noticed a fairly clear progression. The first few tests were non-invasive scans, of the sort that just required me to stand in the doctor's lab for a few monutes, and then leave. After a day or so of that sort of test, the sampling started... 'nuff said about that. Then came the energy-based tests, most of which involved standing in front of a glowing plate of some sort, and letting the doctor see what happened.
I know at least some of those tests were magical in nature. I could feel it. Having your linker core stretched to its limits is... rather memorable. Sort of feels like a heart attack and a real bad case of indigestion, all at once.
That was a really bad day. I was barely able to ignore the pain (a burning ache all over) long enough to limp, slowly, to my quarters. Once I was laying down and not doing anything, most of the pain died down, leaving me in just enough discomfort to focus my mind.
Makes it rather hard to sleep, I can tell you.
The day after, I managed to ask the doctor whether he could do anything about that. His response was, and I quote, "The data that I'm gathering requires that you remain fully aware of your condition. Accept the pain. Relish it, as a symptom of your coming rebirth!" Those were his exact words.
Anyway, the magical testing soon gave way to a new flavor of torment- boredom. I had to lay on an examination table, staying reasonably still... and that's about it. Some days, I'd be spending hours laying there, thinking of nothing- and I do mean 'nothing', and Scaglietti would let me know if I was thinking too hard. Other days, he'd ask me questions while I was laying there, and I'd be tasked to think through the question, assemble the most complete answer I could, and then recite the answer I'd thought up.
The interesting days were the ones when I'd be given math problems to solve. I was initially given a screen with the problem on it, along with the ability to verbally order the screen to update, substituting for the ability to write, I surmise. As time went on, my access to those conveniences decreased.
It's fairly obvious what's going on, when you think about it. I'm going to have to be made a mage, hence the physical and magical testing. High-level Devices have to be customized to fit their user, which includes mental synchronization- the boredom and questioning tests are obviously part of that. As for the math testing, well, I suspect that that test was doing triple duty- teaching me the fundamentals for magic, getting me trained to do mental math, while training my future Device to cast with me. A good sign, really.
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.