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.
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.