^~^
Lots of awesomesauce reactions. I appreciate that. Still gonna make comment, but you know how it is.
I think I'll continue to post my first drafts here, and then do my rewrite/expansion for SB. You will be kept well ahead of SB, so that I have time to reevaluate the SB-stuff from a fresh perspective.
Also, SB gets things in chapters. You guys will get them as I write them, basically.162/171: The line breaks aren't in the original file. I have to add them when I copypasta on DW. Thing is, if I do it at the wrong spot, it can look like it's not there at all, because it doesn't actually move any text in the edit window. I'll correct them at some point or another.
165- Took me a minute or two to get that one. Heh. ^^ Remember how that transformation sequence had a blank neckplate-thingy on it? In future outings, there'll be a yellow lowercase i right there.
I'd intervene in F/SN- not to help Shirou or Sakura, but to hang out with Lancer, slap Archer upside the head, give Caster beam envy, end every male Matou, demolish a church, and see if 'anti-Grail' deserves to be its own classification, or is a subset of anti-fortress. Oh, and kill Berserker, kill Berserker, kill Berserker...
166- Heh. Ha. Ha-ha... bwaHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!... sorry.
181- That was supposed to be an attempt at deadpan, 'this is bleedin' obvious' narrative voice. I'll change it in the rewrite.
185- Jail Scaglietti is made of equal parts sadism and SCIENCE!. How is this trolling? You guys already knew this by now.
191- You did catch that that unarmed style was uploaded into my current head along with me, right? I wasn't learning something new, but training in something I'd been made to already know. My learning curve with Mal is mentioned as being significantly slower, for that very reason- JS didn't have a skillsoft for wrist-mounted stick-fighting, or a consciousness upload to add his nonexistent skillsoft to.
Now, Tre *is* just that good. I don't know this, but the style she teaches me? She learned a number of other styles (with skillsofts- being born to her body has at least one advantage), and built the style out of them to suit my weapon.
193- I have plans for Zest and his team. Cue more laughter.
I'm fully aware that it's all fun and games until Cinque has to refuse a replacement.
195- See, this is why I'mma hafta make you my beta for the revised version. You Get It... though I'll refer you to my response to your reaction to #166.
198- Not my word. That's what they're called in 40K. Yes, he did- a detail which needs to get worked into the rewrite.
202- Again! Why can't I hold all these plot threads? I must rack discriprin.
207- Careful, there.
That wasn't to be revealed until the rewrite went up...
209- See? SEE?! This is the sort of thing I need to sarcasm all over the place!
211- I'm not doing SCIENCE!, and you'll note that when the last word of a sentence is SCIENCE!, I add another punctuation mark after it, because the exclamation point is part of the word. I'm doing science, which is considerably more logical and regimented and considerably less mad. If anything, what JS does is actually sciencey SCIENCE!, because of how predictably it works.
Trying to have it so I don't know the things that I know until I figure out enough to know that there's a question, and then deduce the answer. If you're saying that, then it's working.
215- What I'm saying is that it defaults to what's already there, unless nothing (or not enough) is there, in which case it defaults to my orientation. I've not learned to change it yet.
218- Flashing warnings at the edge of my field of view. Metaphorical yelling, referred to that way to provoke exactly that sort of image. If you flash back to 188, I sort of foreshadowed that I get some visual indications of what my body's doing.
**********
Of course, I eventually had to interrupt the doctor's work. He'd been so deep in the task before him- tasks, I should say- that he didn't hear me entering the bubble.
"Ahem. Doctor?"
He turned, shutting a dozen or so windows with a swipe of a hand. "Ah, Imma! I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever drop by! Did you enjoy your little science experiment?"I managed to avoid showing any surprise at this... though a bit of annoyance leaked through. Right. He probably watches everything in the facility. Forgot about that. "Enjoy it? Why would I? I'd rather be moving forward... creating new spells, refining my control, practicing my skills... becoming both better and stronger. Instead, I'm stuck trying to figure out what's wrong with my magic." I gave Scaglietti my best piercing gaze. "You wouldn't happen to know what's wrong with my magic, would you?"
He chuckled. "Oh, Imma. Of course I know! I built you, after all." He straightened his collar, slowly and deliberately, smirking smugly the entire time. "Why waste your time asking if I know? You should realize you'd be better off asking what I know about it."
That's a trap I could fly the Garden of Time through. No, thanks. "Would I?", I asked. "Would I really be better off asking you that?" Time to lay a few cards on the table.
A smirk of my own crept across my face. "How would it benefit me? I already know what's wrong with me, after all- what asking a question I've already answered do to help?"
Scaglietti blinked, not quite having expected that. "You were able to figure it out?" He gave me a short round of mocking applause. "How wonderful for you. Please, explain your situation to me. Enlighten me, if you will."
I indulged him, keeping it short and sweet. "You gave me an Inherent Skill, much like the rest of your cyborgs. I don't have a definitive answer on what it does, but I know part of it uses my mana to manipulate gravity. Some part of my cyborg state," I said, flashing my gold eyes at him for emphasis, "is causing that function of my IS to alter mana I'm using to cast spells, and I don't have control of it."
The doctor thought that over, and smiled. "Your analysis is... surprisingly accurate, on a practical level. I suppose I can enlighten you further. Tell me; do you know what your IS is?"
I tilted my head to one side, blinking in confusion. Oh, right. The Numbers all had ISes designed to serve specific purposes in combat. "I... hadn't actually considered that, Doctor. You gave Tre wings and blades. You gave Cinque daggers and explosions. What did you give me?"
Jail waved a hand, rezzing up a series of pictures in the space between us. "This is a latus, a relic of Al-Hazard. It bears resemblance to the carri, the inspiration for Mid-Childan personal transportation. From my examinations of the device, it was essentially the military variant of the carri, equipped with fearsome weapons and armor."
Huh. So it's basically a tank? Why bring this up? Where are its... oh. I see where you're going with this.
"Some years ago, the TSA provided me a latus to examine- the first one they had ever seen, actually. Most of the technology was familiar to me, but the engine... the engine was something special." The images were replaced by another set, this one showing something that looked for all the world like a piece of modern art... right down to the headache I was getting looking at the thing.
After a second or three, I realized that its proportions didn't make any logical sense, stopped looking at it- wincing as I moved my head- and deleted that bit of visual data from my memory. The headache immediately began to fade.
In contrast, Jail was staring at the image don'tlookatit-don'tlookatit! with what looked to me like rapturous glee. "Is it not beautiful? The angles of it, the mathematical elegance... it never fails to inspire me..."
I let the doctor stare at the emptyholeinspaceDON'TLOOK! for a while, mostly to see if he'd snap out of it on his own. After twenty seconds of that, the mumbling finally got to me; I edged over to him, carefully keeping my eyes on his shoulder, and gave him a good shake. "Doctor? Explanation now, ia Al-Hazard fthagn later." I got no response; the doctor continued to stare at his display, his eyes tracking to follow it even when his head moved. I noticed that he was mumbling something (and carefully avoided hearing what, precisely, it was); on top of that, his hands were busy typing out Odin-knows-what into another window that had appeared.
Precisely fifty-nine seconds after he'd first opened pictures of the engine, his console gave out a beep, and the data entry window he'd had open closed itself. I risked a look up, and saw his eyes tracking around the room; flicking my focus down to where the thing-that-must-not-be-seen was revealed nothing. "Doctor?" Interesting. Now I know why some logia remain lost... and have a sudden interest in NEVER visiting Al-Hazard. EVER.
Scaglietti's attention finally came to me. "Ah, Imma! What brings you here?"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.
Lots of awesomesauce reactions. I appreciate that. Still gonna make comment, but you know how it is.
I think I'll continue to post my first drafts here, and then do my rewrite/expansion for SB. You will be kept well ahead of SB, so that I have time to reevaluate the SB-stuff from a fresh perspective.
Also, SB gets things in chapters. You guys will get them as I write them, basically.162/171: The line breaks aren't in the original file. I have to add them when I copypasta on DW. Thing is, if I do it at the wrong spot, it can look like it's not there at all, because it doesn't actually move any text in the edit window. I'll correct them at some point or another.
165- Took me a minute or two to get that one. Heh. ^^ Remember how that transformation sequence had a blank neckplate-thingy on it? In future outings, there'll be a yellow lowercase i right there.
I'd intervene in F/SN- not to help Shirou or Sakura, but to hang out with Lancer, slap Archer upside the head, give Caster beam envy, end every male Matou, demolish a church, and see if 'anti-Grail' deserves to be its own classification, or is a subset of anti-fortress. Oh, and kill Berserker, kill Berserker, kill Berserker...
166- Heh. Ha. Ha-ha... bwaHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!... sorry.
181- That was supposed to be an attempt at deadpan, 'this is bleedin' obvious' narrative voice. I'll change it in the rewrite.
185- Jail Scaglietti is made of equal parts sadism and SCIENCE!. How is this trolling? You guys already knew this by now.
191- You did catch that that unarmed style was uploaded into my current head along with me, right? I wasn't learning something new, but training in something I'd been made to already know. My learning curve with Mal is mentioned as being significantly slower, for that very reason- JS didn't have a skillsoft for wrist-mounted stick-fighting, or a consciousness upload to add his nonexistent skillsoft to.
Now, Tre *is* just that good. I don't know this, but the style she teaches me? She learned a number of other styles (with skillsofts- being born to her body has at least one advantage), and built the style out of them to suit my weapon.
193- I have plans for Zest and his team. Cue more laughter.
I'm fully aware that it's all fun and games until Cinque has to refuse a replacement.
195- See, this is why I'mma hafta make you my beta for the revised version. You Get It... though I'll refer you to my response to your reaction to #166.
198- Not my word. That's what they're called in 40K. Yes, he did- a detail which needs to get worked into the rewrite.
202- Again! Why can't I hold all these plot threads? I must rack discriprin.
207- Careful, there.
That wasn't to be revealed until the rewrite went up...209- See? SEE?! This is the sort of thing I need to sarcasm all over the place!
211- I'm not doing SCIENCE!, and you'll note that when the last word of a sentence is SCIENCE!, I add another punctuation mark after it, because the exclamation point is part of the word. I'm doing science, which is considerably more logical and regimented and considerably less mad. If anything, what JS does is actually sciencey SCIENCE!, because of how predictably it works.
Trying to have it so I don't know the things that I know until I figure out enough to know that there's a question, and then deduce the answer. If you're saying that, then it's working.
215- What I'm saying is that it defaults to what's already there, unless nothing (or not enough) is there, in which case it defaults to my orientation. I've not learned to change it yet.
218- Flashing warnings at the edge of my field of view. Metaphorical yelling, referred to that way to provoke exactly that sort of image. If you flash back to 188, I sort of foreshadowed that I get some visual indications of what my body's doing.
**********
Of course, I eventually had to interrupt the doctor's work. He'd been so deep in the task before him- tasks, I should say- that he didn't hear me entering the bubble.
"Ahem. Doctor?"
He turned, shutting a dozen or so windows with a swipe of a hand. "Ah, Imma! I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever drop by! Did you enjoy your little science experiment?"I managed to avoid showing any surprise at this... though a bit of annoyance leaked through. Right. He probably watches everything in the facility. Forgot about that. "Enjoy it? Why would I? I'd rather be moving forward... creating new spells, refining my control, practicing my skills... becoming both better and stronger. Instead, I'm stuck trying to figure out what's wrong with my magic." I gave Scaglietti my best piercing gaze. "You wouldn't happen to know what's wrong with my magic, would you?"
He chuckled. "Oh, Imma. Of course I know! I built you, after all." He straightened his collar, slowly and deliberately, smirking smugly the entire time. "Why waste your time asking if I know? You should realize you'd be better off asking what I know about it."
That's a trap I could fly the Garden of Time through. No, thanks. "Would I?", I asked. "Would I really be better off asking you that?" Time to lay a few cards on the table.
A smirk of my own crept across my face. "How would it benefit me? I already know what's wrong with me, after all- what asking a question I've already answered do to help?"
Scaglietti blinked, not quite having expected that. "You were able to figure it out?" He gave me a short round of mocking applause. "How wonderful for you. Please, explain your situation to me. Enlighten me, if you will."
I indulged him, keeping it short and sweet. "You gave me an Inherent Skill, much like the rest of your cyborgs. I don't have a definitive answer on what it does, but I know part of it uses my mana to manipulate gravity. Some part of my cyborg state," I said, flashing my gold eyes at him for emphasis, "is causing that function of my IS to alter mana I'm using to cast spells, and I don't have control of it."
The doctor thought that over, and smiled. "Your analysis is... surprisingly accurate, on a practical level. I suppose I can enlighten you further. Tell me; do you know what your IS is?"
I tilted my head to one side, blinking in confusion. Oh, right. The Numbers all had ISes designed to serve specific purposes in combat. "I... hadn't actually considered that, Doctor. You gave Tre wings and blades. You gave Cinque daggers and explosions. What did you give me?"
Jail waved a hand, rezzing up a series of pictures in the space between us. "This is a latus, a relic of Al-Hazard. It bears resemblance to the carri, the inspiration for Mid-Childan personal transportation. From my examinations of the device, it was essentially the military variant of the carri, equipped with fearsome weapons and armor."
Huh. So it's basically a tank? Why bring this up? Where are its... oh. I see where you're going with this.
"Some years ago, the TSA provided me a latus to examine- the first one they had ever seen, actually. Most of the technology was familiar to me, but the engine... the engine was something special." The images were replaced by another set, this one showing something that looked for all the world like a piece of modern art... right down to the headache I was getting looking at the thing.
After a second or three, I realized that its proportions didn't make any logical sense, stopped looking at it- wincing as I moved my head- and deleted that bit of visual data from my memory. The headache immediately began to fade.
In contrast, Jail was staring at the image don'tlookatit-don'tlookatit! with what looked to me like rapturous glee. "Is it not beautiful? The angles of it, the mathematical elegance... it never fails to inspire me..."
I let the doctor stare at the emptyholeinspaceDON'TLOOK! for a while, mostly to see if he'd snap out of it on his own. After twenty seconds of that, the mumbling finally got to me; I edged over to him, carefully keeping my eyes on his shoulder, and gave him a good shake. "Doctor? Explanation now, ia Al-Hazard fthagn later." I got no response; the doctor continued to stare at his display, his eyes tracking to follow it even when his head moved. I noticed that he was mumbling something (and carefully avoided hearing what, precisely, it was); on top of that, his hands were busy typing out Odin-knows-what into another window that had appeared.
Precisely fifty-nine seconds after he'd first opened pictures of the engine, his console gave out a beep, and the data entry window he'd had open closed itself. I risked a look up, and saw his eyes tracking around the room; flicking my focus down to where the thing-that-must-not-be-seen was revealed nothing. "Doctor?" Interesting. Now I know why some logia remain lost... and have a sudden interest in NEVER visiting Al-Hazard. EVER.
Scaglietti's attention finally came to me. "Ah, Imma! What brings you here?"
My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.
I've been writing a bit.