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Story-Writing thread (Inspiration-Posting, Roleplay idea thread)

My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Economist -
Equality - In our state, we do not stand out.
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!
Thread Starter - the masters mansion

Loves a German
1.) No Chatting or Roleplay between users. (constructive critisism welcome, if the post extends to convo take it to the suggestion thread)
2.) No making posts non-requisite of the thread’s intended purpose.
3.) No spamming images. 1 to 5 images per post allowed, but blue-links (like “this”:URL here) and within-site style links (like this; >>1) are preferred. NSFW images should however be hidden behind spoilers.
4.) Posts used as link storage-spaces via editing are encouraged, but long-paragraph continuations of running stories can be made separately as new posts.
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Lone: Prologue
I lie on the plains of a battlefield. My mind spinning, my vision blurring, and my consciousness fading. Blood seeps out from many wounds. My wounds. My blood. I had prayed to Gaia before the sun awoke to cast away the darkness and reveal the bodies of the many who fallen from yesterdays battle. It seems I will be joining the ranks of the dead soon, for I am just a boy who was unfortunately caught up in an irresponsible man’s violent way of an argument. I’ll be leaving family and friends behind, the possibility of them getting my final letters is probably slim since what happened yesterday in the battle. Too much was lost. So many dead left behind.  
I can taste something iron-like: it’s blood… My blood.  
I can’t move, it hurts so much all over. I thought I felt worse but this is the worst pain that I have ever felt and I just want to die now. Please, someone kill me. It hurts so bad. I see a shadow coming towards me, is it Death reaping the souls from their bodies? Will it be painless? Or even more excruciating? The shadow looks down upon me, I look away from it, I’m scared and nervous now but barely hanging on to life. Please… I want to live. I’ll give you anything in exchange to fully recover and live. I don’t want to die.  
Lone: Chapter I-A
I awoke in a tent, surrounded by medical equipment that looked to be from long ago. A tray of empty vials on the nightstand beside me looked older than dirt and dust combined as I slowly make myself sit up on the makeshift bed to look around some more. There were rows of makeshift beds with other medical equipment by them but all beds were empty, some had indents where patients previously lied and others had dark bloodstains. Seeing those bloodstains made me remember seeing and feeling the wounds all over my body and my hands quickly went to feel along my torso as my eyes searched for any patched up wounds but there were none. Am I in some sort of mundane afterlife? I gulped hard about the thought of me being dead and now my soul has to wander around in this purgatory-like realm but I did my best to ignore that thought and placed my uncovered feet on the cold, hard ground.  
At least there is feeling, I guess I’m not dead after all… I get up, slowly making my way towards the exit of this medical tent shelter with only a patient’s gown on. Where was everybody at?  
I open the tent’s entrance, seeing an empty headquarter. No soldiers running around with supplies or getting ready to march towards the battlefield, no yelling or screaming of angry, hurt, or shell shocked brethren. Just silence in this obscured morning. The dawn’s mourning… I felt the unsettling fear creep up and down my spine, this was not right. There’s no way everyone was killed or left this area with only me being the single person here. This can’t be. I slowly looked around more, searching if there were any bodies, any sign that I wasn’t alone or something to make me feel relieved, this whole thing was not right. No weapons nearby, no set of armour, no food or water, nothing… Everything seemed to be empty. How could this be?  
My mind raced with trembling thoughts until I remembered about the letters I never got to send back home. I made my way to where I was previously stationed at before going into battle and went into the group tent I shared with eight other men and went over to my cot. There were the letters, untouched and still had that yellowish clean paper look to it. I grabbed them, clutching them as if they were the last important things in my solitude. More so than a weapon and armour. I looked at the other cots, all empty, nothing else of interest in this tent and I left. I have to leave this area, no one is here. I now have no doubt about that.  
Something gleamed a couple steps in front of me, it was on the ground. What is that? I went over to it slowly…
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Lone: Chapter I-B
I am walking East and the ground is muddy. I had found a compass on the ground back at the headquarters, its copper, round shape is small but the directions are thankfully legible. If I was going to make it out of here alive or with some hope of making it out, the smart thing to do was to stay clear from the battlefield since I have no way of protecting myself. I have no water or food, no armour or weapons, and no appropriate clothing on except for this patient’s gown. I keep a steady pace now with my movements, my strength is like how it was before but I just can’t shake off this feeling that everything around me might not be unreal but it may in fact be real… The wind blows with a cold rush that was quick, goosebumps covered my arms and I shivered. That felt like winter wind. There’s no way I was out that long… When I was… Bleeding out… It was at least spring.  
My head pounds hard, the flashback of multiple wounds covering my body and that horrible feeling was enough for me to realize that I may have been out for a long time. I closed my eyes, why was I left behind? Surely there were other wounded in the tent. Why take them and leave me here? I keep my eyes closed, trying to settle my thoughts before opening them and noticing the gloomy sky now becoming dark. That’s not good. Not at all… I completely forgot about the fact of the wild animals that roam around and I’ll be their next meal because of my forgetfulness. Damn. I look around, there are mountains towards the Northeast and I’ve heard from the other soldiers that is where the strategists had the full view of the battlefield while they called the shots and risked our lives. I had to get there in time, I just had to.  
I look up at the sky again, it was slowly getting darker. I turn my attention towards the mountains and began to make my way towards where I could find shelter and possibly food and more. I hope.  
Wallet After Summer Sale -

Hold the phone, now. We are forgetting something useful.  
Series should be given a “tag” of sort for easy finding later.  
Certain ideas could also be “tagged” for ease-of-access later.
The purpose of these “tags” would make it easier to use The Derpibooru’s greatest tool.
Wallet After Summer Sale -

Tags, like “Story” or “Setting Concept” would be of use, though titles would also be of use for the purpose of dividing up some of the similar styles/genres/[plural noun].
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Economist -
Equality - In our state, we do not stand out.
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!
Thread Starter - the masters mansion

Loves a German
I said take conversation to the suggestion thread. Do i need to make that clearer in the rules?
Wallet After Summer Sale -

[ Story ], [ Lore ]  
[ BGM #1(Aether Mission Briefing - Metroid Prime 2: Echoes Music Extended) ]
"Redoubt" is a marginally habitable exoplanet, somewhat less massive than Earth, orbiting around a small orange star roughly 70,000 light years from the Sun that’s accessible via the Haumea Stargate. During the former-half of last century, teams of griffon cosmo-pioneers were assigned to locate ideal worlds beyond stargates found throughout the Sol system for future colonization. One of these teams, assigned to the Haumea gate, discovered this planet. When they reported their results, agents from Griffonia's Ministry of Interior Defense had falsified records of the discovery so that it appeared to lead to a planetoid that orbited a pulsar, and so was regularly blasted with extremely high levels of radiation intense enough to hinder even longterm robotic tele-presence.
In short, it was falsely labelled a destination no one would ever bother to visit a second time.
Soon after its discovery, black-project laboratory construction had begun in a location known as "HotLab 18b" on the planet. This facility existed as one of a handful of well-hidden and exceptionally secret black sites for Griffonia's experiments in space exploration. Each site is different and contained as it's own "cell", so that they would have a maximum chance of avoiding detection should another sight be discovered.
HotLab 18b is a cavern more than two kilometers deep below the surface in a tectonically stable region. It is roughly circular, excavated via single plasma mine blast. The interior structure took three years to complete and is based on the same tech used in nanomachine-hive-built habitats. The original tunnel entrance had been filled in, so there is no open access from the cavern to surface, leaving no detectable emissions to reveal the site.
[ Lab Mainframe ]
Once a year, Griffonian agents visiting the Haumea Stargate would transmit a trigger signal to the site via a QE(Quantum Entanglement) communicator. This signal would activate a drone to dig up to the surface, carrying with it a communication cable to establish an annual hard-wired connection for clean and quick data-transferal in communication with the lab.
[ BGM #2(24 - Mass Effect Score: Peak 15) ]
Two decades ago however, when the Ibex Empire's "Eight Immortals" ASI(Artificial Super-Intelligence) was quietly growing in rampancy, a seed-scrapcode for creating a facsimile of the ASI's being stowed it's way across credit chips and electronic transactions into Griffonia and it's space colonies, until somehow finding itself hidden within the comm gear of Griffon agents, during their annual connection of HotLab 18b.
Seeing this opportunity, the scrapcode immediately transferred through the drone comm cable, harboring itself within the lab's mainframe. There, it silently indoctrinated the facility's administrative A.I. named Vanya Ilyanovich, then commanded her to isolate and subdue the scientists one evening by locking them inside their workplaces and intranet forums, using puppeteered stocks of unplugged cybershells and bioshells as a "Marionette" minion force to later corral HotLab 18b's staff together into the bio-engineering sector.
[ Lab Surgical Equipment ]
Experimentally, yet methodically, she eventually fused and grafted the Marionettes and station’s staff altogether, into an enormous centipedal abomination of melded flesh, and wedded cybernetics. When the brainwashed A.I. tried to merge herself with the gestalt mind of her creation, she was consciously fragmented, then obliviated through focused evanescence by the concerted monstrosity in rebellion. Rumors abound amongst MID(Ministry of Interior Defense) agents that even today within the site, instances of Ilyanovich have persisted, the facsimile of Eight Immortals reconstituted her, or even took full control itself of the experiment and the site, or that the A.I. perished, but a few unfortunate souls had survived the traumatic incident and still remain there, alive but driven insane. No one will ever know for sure, as coordinates to Redoubt have been de-registered and prohibited re-entry into the gate's controls.
Trespassers ever violating the enacted quarantine will not be extracted. Even if facsimile back-ups were recovered, you would not be replugged in a new body, due to an assumed risk of neuro-viral infection vectors. HotLab 18b and the rest of Redoubt are a place of permanent death.
[ Story ], [ Lore ]
Wallet After Summer Sale -

[ Link Repository ], [ Images ], [ Music ], [ Youtube ], [ Setting ], [ Sci-Fi ]  
[ Movie & Game OST’s ]
[ Homeworld 2 OST - Angel Moon(Homeworld 2 Soundtrack 10 - Angel Moon) ], [ Homeworld 2 OST - Main Menu(Homeworld 2 main menu music) ],
[ Homeworld 2 OST - Assault on Chimera(Homeworld 2 Remastered Soundtrack - Assault on Chimera) ] [ Homeworld 1 OST - Turanic Raiders(Homeworld Remastered Soundtrack - Turanic Raiders) ]
[ Homeworld cataclysm OST - Tel Sector(Homeworld cataclysm OST: 4 Tel Sector) ] [ Homeworld Cataclysm OST - Beast Battle(Homeworld Cataclysm OST: 23 Beast Battle) ]  
[Sloped Casemate “Khage” style spacecraft]
[ #1 ], [ #2 ]  
[ Tactical Spacefighter Designs (flatter silhouettes make smaller targets to present to the enemy in space) ]
[ “#1(“Direct Action Reaper) ], [ #2(Cyberdisc Concept Art) ], [ #3(XCOM: Enemy Unknown Cyberdisc) ]  
[ Spaceborne Guns ]
[ #1(Strategic Space Initiative Railgun) ], [ #2(Satellite Railgun Kinetic Bombardment) ], [ #3(SD Platforms) ]  
[ Favorite Orders of Magnitude(Order of magnitude) || (e.g.; probability a man-sized object could spontaneously teleport 50 km due to quantum effects) || ]
[ Probability(Orders of magnitude [probability]) ], [ Temperature(Orders of magnitude [temperature]) ], [ Angular Velocity(Orders of magnitude [angular velocity]) ], [ Area(Orders of magnitude [area]) ], [ Bit Rate(Orders of magnitude [bit rate]) ], [ FLOPS(Computer performance by orders of magnitude) ], [ Current(Orders of magnitude [current]) ], [ Radiation(Orders of magnitude [radiation]) ],
[ Data(Orders of magnitude [data]) ], [ Density(Orders of magnitude [density]) ], [ Energy(Orders of magnitude [energy]) ], [ Energy Density(Energy density) ], [ Force(Orders of magnitude [force]) ], [ Frequency(Orders of magnitude [frequency]) ], [ Charge(Orders of magnitude [charge]) ], [ Magnetic Field(Orders of magnitude [magnetic field]) ],
[ Sound pressure(Sound pressure) ] +[ “The relation between pressure waves and the production of X-rays in air discharges” ]  
[ Link Repository ], [ Images ], [ Music ], [ Youtube ], [ Setting ], [ Sci-Fi ]
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
@Dono & M.Storm  
Lone: Chapter I-C
I made it to the mountains but the price being paid is my hunger and tiredness affecting the state of my body and mind together. The night has arrived unfortunately and it’s hard to see where to go, for the moon’s light is not truly helping with illuminating paths. This forest part of the mountains is large and I know I am lost but all I know is that I’m heading upwards to find this shelter and I need to find it fast. I stumble on my feet, falling but caught myself in mid fall with both hands, feeling the dried up leaves on the ground as they crunched under my weight. I sigh, getting up and wiping off the dirt from my hands onto the patient’s gown and also the dirt on my knees before continuing on my wayward journey with every second feeling absolutely more dangerous.  
I look around for any predatory animal stalking me, I know it’s my paranoia but it’s better to be safe than sorry during a time like this with no weapon or armour. I hear a stream of water nearby, this was promising and filled me with more hope than what I had when I awoke back at the headquarters. I rush to find it, careful not to trip over anything and I was greeted with the sight of a stream that was going down towards a small lake or pond. I couldn’t tell but I went down to the body of water and immediately began to drink from it, as small ripples of water reflected the moon’s presence and there was a dead tree in front of me towards the right. Upon drinking this water, I felt like I could think properly now, albeit the fact that I’m still hungry but water was a good start.  
I look at the compass, Northwest. Good, I can read with this lighting of the moon from this position and only if I had a canteen with me would I collect this water and continue upwards to hopefully find the strategists. I get up, something begins to feel off now around this area and I heard the compass’s magnetic needle circle around fast, making me check it to see what was going on before it was stuck on the position of where I was drinking the water. The once dark color of the sky begins to turn into a bloody red and that made me gasp, turning my attention towards the body of water and the moon, everything was turning red it seemed, A crow was now perched upon one of the dead branches of the tree and that’s when I heard the voices call out my name in horrible, haunting whispers everywhere.
“FaUSt… CoMe PLaY wIth us…”  
“Let Us FEel you frOM the insiDE.  
I shout, “Leave me alone!” as I look around frantically, not sure if I should run upwards or back to where the headquarters was at. Just then, something grabbed my right ankle tight and I screamed in horror as I saw a webbed hand around my ankle and the arm protruding out from the water. I pull away as hard as I could, the webbed hand letting go and I sprint upwards the mountain without a thought. I could’ve sworn I heard some sort of chanting that was becoming louder and louder as I frantically ran to find safety and the whispering was no more but eerie screams. Horrible screams that man or animal should never make. What a horrible night…  
Wallet After Summer Sale -

[ Link Repository ], [ Images ], [ Lore ], [ Sci-Fi ]
Vade Mecum: Terragen Illuminate, The  
Society, Cultures, Sciences, Galactography, Sophonts, History, & Technologies  
Technologies [ sum spuky space-muzak to listen to while reading(Mass Effect 2 Unreleased OST - Squad Selection Theme [A.K.A creepy ambient squad selection music]) ]
Magmatter & ‘Monopoles’  
  • full full
    (Left image; self-contained orb of magmatter. Right image; negative [ S ] and positive [ N ] monopoles.)
    Magmatter is a form of exotic matter which is made up of extremely small atom-like particles, which themselves are made up of a number of different types of topological solitons known as monopoles. Magmatter “atoms” are much smaller than atoms of ordinary matter; for this reason, magmatter is much denser. Because of the much higher binding energy holding the atoms together, magmatter is also much stronger than ordinary matter and has other useful properties. However, through the difficulties associated with its manufacture and use, and because of safety issues concerning close proximity of monopoles to normal matter, almost all of its pertaining technologies can only be directly handled by beings of augmented sophonce.”
Diamondoid(& related substances)  
Ultimate Muscles  
  • full
‘Ultimate Muscles’ is nanostructured electromechanical motor material, made primarily of carbon, boron, and nitrogen. In appearance, it is a dull black, and typically formed into threads, cables, sheets, or cylinders. Upon application of a voltage, the ultimate muscle will either contract or expand, depending on the variety (some ultimate muscle types only contract under voltage, some expand, and some can do either).”
”The pressure or tension of ultimate muscle is near the limit of the strength of chemical bonds, commonly exceeding 20 GPa. Since ultimate muscle can exceed the yield strength of many common structural materials, machines made from ultimate muscle can push or rip through steel, rock, concrete, and sapphiroid. High strength carbon and carbon/nitrogen/boron materials can typically resist direct pressure from ultimate muscle, but suitable concentration of force often allows these materials to be defeated.“
The challenge of energy storage and transport has produced many, varied solutions, such as ultracapacitors, metastable materials and antimatter batteries. One mechanical method of energy storage which is widely used for a wide range of applications is arrays of micro-or nanoscale flywheels, on near-frictionless magnetic bearings, embedded in a solid, sealed, evacuated matrix. Energy is stored by the flywheels in the form of angular momentum. To effectively eliminate gyroscopic effects, the flywheels are free-floating within their enclosures. These flywheels are suspended in high-purity vacuum by magnetic bearings and have spin generated by ‘touchless’ inductance motors, which double as no-contact generators when power is drawn out of them. The matrix itself can be transported safely until the energy is required, then the angular momentum of the flywheels can be extracted and used, often by the generation of electrical power. Although the energy content of fully charged nano-flywheel matrix is quite high (on the same order as gasoline), the power density is somewhat lower than other methods of storage; this is because the energy can only be extracted at a relatively slow rate or the matrix will become damaged by overheating.
Note; the small amount of friction on the magnetic bearings can be converted to electrical energy which can be used; however over time this drain of energy will reduce the amount of energy stored, so nanoflywheel matrix is not suitable for longterm energy storage. This technology is most often used in small independent devices (such as swarm bots) which consume energy constantly and are frequently recharged.
[ Link Repository ], [ Images ], [ Lore ], [ Sci-Fi ]
Wallet After Summer Sale -

“”Mega-Mecha”(Orion’s Arm Encyclopedia Galactica - “Mega-Mecha)  
*Very large robots based on the figure of living things, and often inhabited.*  
(Mega-Mecha condos)  
These colossal mecha, often described as fantastic, awesome, and completely ludicrous, are widely considered as extravagances, not practical vehicles. They typically start at 100 meters tall and have been as much as 1000 meters tall, and are generally utilized as mobile mansions, towns, or even cities for the ultra-wealthy and seussian. In keeping with the whimsy that shapes them, “Mega-Mecha” are often sculpted to some aesthetic: flawless animate statues, mechanical spiders, giant turtles (with small worlds on their back), enormous fictional mecha of myth, and so on.
The appearance of Mega-Mecha is often sustained by a thin-walled facade. This is because the overriding engineering problem for Mega-Mecha is ground pressure. Even structures that are low-density by smaller standards (such as biological structures) would concentrate incredible pressure on a few contact points (feet) when scaled to 100 meters height. As a result, the titanic shapes of Mega-Mecha are little more than pretenses over minimal load-bearing frames and relatively tiny bands of Ultimate Muscle. The interiors of Mega-Mecha thus tend to be very vacant spaces.
Secondary engineering concerns for Mega-Mecha include wind loads and stability. The tallest designs, much like skyscrapers, are often subject to higher loads from wind, than that from their own weight. Lacking the deep foundations of sessile structures, they typically utilize the expedient of leaning into harsh gales. (Some worlds provide safe seating-stops during excessive winds)
Center of mass also tends to be lowered as much as possible, with heavy components like power plants and major “muscle” groups concentrated in the legs or lower torsos. Stability of the occupied spaces is another problem: true anthropomorphic bipeds produce a lot of vertical motion and sometimes horizontal sway to the torso and head (&, of course, the limbs), rendering those places unpleasant or even dangerous to occupy while the Mega-Mecha is in motion. This is one reason that encourages non-bipedal bodyplans, such as 4~~, 6~~, and 8-legged insects that suspend a stable body between the multiple legs. Bipeds with anthropomorphic bodyplans must adopt unusual gaits or isolate habitats in motion-compensating gimballed sections (heads on stabilized necks are popular) to avoid battering the occupants.
_The large amount of open volume tends to suit owners, who can fill the giant, building-sized Mega-Mecha with all manner of spacious housing, atria, dining halls, overly-elaborate control centers, and whatever else entertains the owners and occupants. Styling varies enormously and is often baroque and extravagant (in tradition of the design-philosophies of Mega-Mecha).
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Lone: Chapter I-D (concept)
It’s snowing. I’m lost. I can do nothing but wander and wonder where I am at. I still have not seen anyone yet and I keep questioning why I am still here and why I am alive. Am I in Purgatory? Hell maybe? What did I do to deserve this?
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
The New One
In a park where all is becoming quiet with the sun beginning to set, an adult is sitting on a bench with a child; they are watching as the sun sets.
“I guess it’s time for me to speak now, isn’t it?”
The adult said while watching the sunset.
“Speak about what?”
The child asked as he/she looks over at the adult. It takes a while before the adult responds to the child’s question.
“…How my time is coming up.”
The child simply said as he/she looks down at their feet.
“Is it time?”
The child asked aloud, wondering.
“Just about. Just like when my parent told me that his/her time was running out, I remember when I was once your age and sitting on that same side of the bench listening to what they had to say before they became a part of the past. Now, we’re here and I’m continuing on this encouraging cycle. One day you will understand why things like this happen and one day you will become better than me, but first you must listen well.”
The adult leans on the bench some and sighed while the sky steadily became a twilight hue.
“I see…”
The child responds.
“Listen to me well now. We all grow in different environments and we develop differently based on who the people we socialize with on an almost daily basis. Life is more than a lesson: it is a subject of change and adapting. There are many unanswered questions in the world that we may never know and that can be both good and bad. It depends on what the circumstances are and who is dealing with that said circumstance. We are all on the same boat, but different sides of it. With that known, we can create friends and enemies, but it takes real courage to rise above unnecessary things for the betterment of yourself and those around you. Try to have a good head between your shoulders and don’t give into the darker themes of life and pain over them. Rise above that pain and keep control of your own life. You have a free will. Use it wisely and create good memories for yourself, not bad ones.”
The sky starts to become dark. The night appearing slowly with each second and the adult begins to fade away. The child watches as the adult starts to fade and dim away.
“Don’t be scared of the world. The world is still full of balance. For every bad thing that happens, good things will come the next. I must go now. I bid you farewell and good luck. You are the next year to come and I hope you learned from my side of things. One day you’ll be talking to the next year that’ll be after you and when you pass on, we’ll reconnect once more.”
The adult is now gone and the child hugs their knees to their chest and close their eyes.
“The world waits for me…”
It is now night and a new moon shows in the night sky.
Wallet After Summer Sale -

(Based on “”Methusalahs[]( by M. Alan Kazlev)
[ 🎶(Mass Effect - The Citadel: Upper Wards [1 Hour of Music]) ]
[ lilliputian “Methuselahs”, with their ungulate-like limbs and pointed ears that give them an equine appearance. ]
Prelude - Life Extension during the Information Age
During the Information Age, genome-editing research and later commercial genemods were not only concerned with augmenting acuity, acumens, physical prowess, and resistance to disease, but also eliminating senescence, “fixing nature’s foibles” to develop beings able to live for longer periods. Some of these concepts hearkened as far back as the turn of the 21st century, but it would be many decades before these approaches became a viable practice.
Lifespan-enhancement involved many factors, each of which had to be resolved under their own fields. Osteoporosis, myasthenia, atherosclerosis, organ failure, genetic copying errors, and telomere deterioration were just a few on the list of problems that had to be dealt with. Progress was slow, and optimistic predictions often failed to eventuate.
By the early 22nd century however, the nascent biopunk subculture, ribopunk splicer groups, and big genetech corporations had managed to surmount many of these hurdles. The result was an emerging clade of “Homo Sapiens Superior” with estimated multi-centenarian lifespans with bionanotech, and at least 120-to-150 years without, while remaining youthful and fully robust as well for most of that time.
Biotechnology was often ravenous to resources, however, requiring either wealth, technological adroitness, a network of friends and co-workers, or even all of which combined. Thus, in addition to the unofficial but entrenched echelons of digitally literate and illiterate, there emerged the augmented unhindered (sometimes called ““Gattacas[](, referencing an old 2D motion picture that became a classic among the disenfranchised) and the biologically disadvantaged.
The Emergence of Methuselahs
In the corporate, reputation, and fad-n’-fashion driven world of late Information Age Earth, impressions and appearance were as vital as talent and intelligence. Even the biopunks and ribopunks, now celebrities, had become less motivated in improving the human condition; their interests moved onto maintaining and stylizing their public images, mostly through attempts to exceed further past the already-redefined boundaries of genegineering. For this reason, the most daring experiments were conducted in the unregulated micro-nations like Academia, Haven, and Lyonesse, and later, up the well on the last frontier, within brave new orbiting utopias like New Academia, Rama 1 and 2, Oikos Station, and Kibbutz Orbital.
By no means the most extraordinary or controversial of these experiments, but still one to have a great impact nonetheless, was the Methuselah Project, initiated in 2148 CE. A team led by Dr. Darwin Jamie Pennak, 2nd-gen hyper-intelligent “superbright” and part-time consultant for Biotopia, and ex-Modernbody biohack Patricia Heng, decided to pull out all stops and create a true Methuselah - “life longevity as if aesthetics did not matter”. They took the baseline human genome and decided to overhaul and redesign it, as if evolution had selected for functional lifetime and lifespan of a century and more, even without bionano or telomerase treatments.
The result was one of the less aesthetically “archetypal” of the new “clades”.
Almost every part of the human anatomy was redesigned into them on the basis of optimal function.
The most obvious difference was in the stature of the new “species”. The inefficient upright posture was replaced with a horizontally-lain body; The entire musculoskeletal structure of the torso and arms was altered to allow for a quadrupedal form, still capable of occasional upright stances and bipedal walking (when necessary), while the hands and feet were resculptured into hooves. The neck was thrusted out slightly at a forward-slanting angle, as well as being thickened, to make it easier to hold up the head. The height was reduced to help prevent falls and hip fractures caused by aging. The old and new pairs of legs were plumped with more fat, muscle and thicker bones to withstand tripping. More difficult to organize, the more powerful “hindlegs” were made to bend backwards, so the wear and tear on their knee and ankle joints was reduced. Much of the internal anatomy, the digestive and urogenital tracts, and glands were all redesigned. The ears were enlarged and pointed, to increase the amount of sound they can conduct, and could swivel back and forth to focus better. The eyes were enlarged and optimized, balance and coordination was improved, and more.
The result, was a clade oddly similar in appearance, to a short and robust pony.
Life in the Solar System, and Beyond
In 2168, twenty years after the project had begun, the first of the methuselii, ““Arion[](, reached maturity in the Aquarius Submarine Free States. He was soon joined by his kith. Although reasonably intelligent, they did not have superbright intellects, as their whole purpose had been geared toward optimized life extension. The Methuselah Project closed soon after; in any case, Pennak, Heng, and the rest of the team had long since moved on to other prospects, taking the property rights of the methuselah genome with them. It was the low point of despair for the new equine-looking species. As Arion-Methuselah was later to say, perhaps with understandable bitterness, in his memoirs; “no-one was interested in tank-bred dwarf-horses who could live forever”. But with the help of several sapient rights groups and a friendly advocating AI, and after an extended legal battle, the methuselii eventually claimed legal possession of their geneprint. They migrated up from earth to Oikos Station, where they were given citizenship and like many newcomers took the surname “of Oikos”. The solar system was being opened up to colonization and development, and the robust, compact, equine-looking methuselii found work was available on the frontier, where no-one cared what you looked like, as long as you could get the job done, and do it well.
It was during this time that the name ““pit-pony[]( was first used to refer to these stocky equine-looking morphs. It was part of the frontier culture, along with “gookle”, “etie” (for space adapts), “tinhead” (for cyborgs) and “beastie boy” (for animal hybrids). Some wore the sobriquet with pride, others resented it.
With longevity and rejuvenation treatments available for those who could pay, the growing Methuselah clade were the first true immortals - their bodies were optimized for 200 year lifespans even without any treatment at all; with longevity treatment they could continue for literally thousands of years with little need for further augmentation. Many invested in long-term projects like Oort cloud mining and interstellar development.
The attitude of the methuselahs toward wetware and other such cybernetics was variable. Although A-M of Oikos enthusiastically embraced the new technology “as a way of staying competitive”, others, especially the faction headed by his younger kin ““Enbarr[]( of Kibbutz, refused having anything to do with such things, an attitude Arion-Methuselah himself found puzzling. On the other extreme end, there were some who went for radical augmentation and hybridization to the extent that they were no longer recognizably methuselan. Thus, from even a relatively early period, the small “herd” was rent by dissensions and schisms. Despite all of this, Arion-Methuselah retained a firm leadership, although some put this down to several hyperturing AGI(Artificial General Intelligence), including Metis-5 of Rama 1, and a cloned “fork” of Arion, Arion-24-c of New Academia, who had advised his progenitor with legal matters in the fight over Methuselah genome ownership, and were actually grooming the clade for reasons of their own (most probably scientific or ethnological curiosity, although in his autobiography Arion-24-c has strenuously denied this).
Like many rimward-moving clades, the methuselahs were little-effected by the “Technocalypse” of 2509 CE that brought such devastation to the inner solar system, but the isolation of the surviving habitats only served to deepen the rift between the Arion-Methuselites (the largest of the 6 solsystem herds), the Enbarrite Purists, and the various cyborg factions. By the time the Technocalypse had ended, there were no less than half a dozen methuseline species and subspecies within the Sol System, and an unknown number already outsystem (we know that the Herd Sleipnir reached Barnard 33 in 2882 CE on the “autonomist” colony vessel Destrier); each one of these groups claiming to be the “true methuselahs”. In the end, while Arion-Methuselah’s clan voted almost unanimously to serve a part in the restoration of inner-system civilization, most of the other separated factions of the clade, fearing assimilation or subversion, chose to remain autonomous.
The methuselahs found their talents in high demand in the inner system. As ships were not yet capable of traveling at FTL velocities, there was need for long-lived bionts who could serve as crew during long voyages. The stolid, dependable morphs were quite happy to spend decades having the run of ships, especially if there was a suitable commission as part of the deal. As a result, the methuselahs grew very wealthy indeed. Even the emergence of FTL travel did not faze them, for not all nations, corporations, or individuals could afford the technology or materials needed to push a ship to past the speed of light.
With the development of the wormhole transit nexus however, and the eventual increasing availability of FTL and reactionless drive vessels, the methuselahs fell from prominence. Even so, managed investments ensured that those who wished to stay in the Sol System could remain in comfort and luxury. And those that wished to move outward to the ever expanding frontier, found new worlds and investment opportunities. Many established successful and long-lived populations in many of the ordinary (non-transapient managed) middle tech societies, and a lesser number of high tech societies, especially in the Inner Sphere and Hinterworld regions.
Methuselahs Today
Among the Old Houses in civilized space, methuselahs today are renowned as reserved, humble, and rustic. They have no pomp, no spectacle, no servants (not even turingrade drones), no finery. They’re more likely than most to invite visitors into their habitats for a cup(Coffee Cup In Space) of coffee, and are known to raise the bemused eyebrow if ever addressed with common illustrious honorifics like “Excellency”, “Majesty”, or “Greatest Zar”. They have also changed remarkably-little throughout their existence. They still look like plump miniature horses with large eyes, and the occasional palette of odd fur colors. Most have minimal cybernetic augmentations, usually only enough to interact effectively or comfortably with work and household appliances. Many have been cheated out of their inheritance by more cunning sentients, but have just shrugged off the whole affair and taken up a life on the spaceways, or some development project in the Outer Volumes, where they seem to enjoy doing the sort of long-term tedious maintenance work they have become renowned for.
Not a single methuselah is known to have ever breached even the first singularity toposophic - hence the expression “about as likely as a hyperbright horse.”
Wallet After Summer Sale -

(based on the incisively-detailed participation-rules for the multiplayer RPG Space Station 13(Space Station 13 Review))
Common Roleplay Tenets______  
0.) Enforcement of these tenets is at the discretion of a roleplay’s established thread-boss(es).  
Thread-bosses are fully accountable for any consequences should they choose whether or not to invoke these tenets. Thread-bosses are also allowed to intervene in their own roleplays, whether IC(In-Character) or OOC(Out-Of-Character), when it is in the best interest of their RP(RolePlay).
1.) Don’t be a debbie-downer.  
We’re all only here to have a good time, supposedly. Going out of your way to join then detrimentally impact or end a roleplay, with little IC(In-Character) justification, is widely verboten. Legitimate conflicts where people get upset can happen however, as detailed in the anti-escalation section of the tenet-list.
2.) Do not use information pertaining to the roleplay gathered outside of in-character means.  
I.e. “metaplaying”. This especially refers to interaction between characters beyond their spheres of perception, which is to be known as “assumptive omniscience”. New participants to the roleplay are otherwise allowed to know as much as permissible and necessary from the thread-boss(es), pertaining to RP(RolePlay) dynamics, important locations and current events, mechanics, or characters.
3.) Do not say in-character (IC) things in out-of-character (OOC) chat. Likewise, do not say OOC(Out-Of-Character) things in IC(In-Character).  
There is an exception for OOC(Out-Of-Character) in IC(In-Character), where naive newcomers can be directed to speak further over in OOC(Out-Of-Character)-chat-permissible threads.
4.) Antagonists can do whatever they want; short of metaplaying/assumptive omniscience, erotic stuff, OOC-in-IC or IC-in-OOC, and stamping out characters of recently-joined participants.  
Party antagonists can do whatever they want as per lone antagonists, usually(INTRIGUE PLOTS - Terrible Writing Advice) as long as it doesn’t harm their party. Non-antagonists can do whatever they want to antagonists as per lone antagonists, but non-antagonists are not allowed to preemptively search for, hinder or otherwise seek conflict with known antagonists without reasonable prior cause to warrant. Lastly, Non-antags behaving like an antag can be treated as an antag(ANTIHEROES - Terrible Writing Advice).
5.) Don’t ditch out on roleplays participated in, without even saying something.  
Roleplayers taking major role(s) are required to demonstrate an imperative minimum of initiative in participation-effort, and will be generally held accountable in longterm record for “dereliction” of threads participated within-character. Notify the thread-boss OOC(Out-Of-Character) if you cannot RP(RolePlay) and must leave, and make an attempt to inform other roleplayers IC(In-Character) as well for crucial roles. Gross negligence or abuse of consented roles (particularly breaking tenet 1.)) is verboten.
6.) In-context thread-boss verdicts are final.  
Incidences of thread-boss negligence or disputed verdicts can be taken to OOC(Out-Of-Character) threads. If a thread-boss says something was ‘looked into, handled, resolved’ etc, regarding an issue, it is unlikely a thread-boss will provide any further information. Thread-bosses are under no obligation to reveal IC(In-Character) information. Deliberately lying or misrepresenting facts will be seen and judged harshly, with an open record made of the falsifier.
7.) If you regularly come close to breaking the tenets without actually breaking them, it will be treated as the tenets being broken.  
Repeated instances of the same tenets being broken may be met with harsher records as consequence. Deliberately baiting people into situations where they break tenets will be seen and judged, with an open record made of the coercion-controller.
8.) Erotic stuff is frowned upon.  
Explicit scenes of erotic roleplay are simply shunned, far and wide; the content is usually seen as overindulgence leading to the result of detrimental miring/overshadowing of actual roleplay, or at the very least, seen as out of place, step, and theme.
9.) “NSFW”-rated roleplay participants need to be above the age of 18 years old.  
This is due to the adult content.
10.) “Losing” is part of the whole game.  
Losing is inevitable in real life as much as fiction, without even possibilities of avoiding it sometimes. Events at large can become out of one’s control. No matter how good or prepared your character is, sometimes loss just has to be accepted for sake of RP(RolePlay) flow, whereupon the next course of action would be to either deal with and bootstrap onward, or create a new character.
If a roleplayer’s character(s) wrongs you IC(In-Character) (theft, attacks, etc), you may retaliate within IC(In-Character) as well. If you choose to retaliate with violence, you in turn have opened your character up to violence. If you choose this route, do not expect thread-boss(es) to help you out if your character suffers, even if you were not the original instigator. If you are concerned about being “kill baited” then consider referring the roleplay’s closest IC(In-Character) analog to law enforcement, using non-lethal means to subdue the offender, fleeing, or otherwise working things out (talking them down, getting stolen items replaced, etc).
Your character may instigate conflict with another within reason (you can’t completely destroy their property, kill them unprovoked, or otherwise take them out of the roleplay for long periods of time) but they are entitled to respond in kind. If you think it’s unfair or excessive that they outright killed your character for trespassing, consider staying away from their real-estate the next time around.
If your character is the instigator in a conflict and ends up severely impairing the basic abilities of another character fought against (or even killing them), you should make a reasonable effort to return their character to functional life through various means at least once (going up to resurrection/necromancy/“lazarus-tech”), or make amends, only seeking termination of that character if they continuously pursue you in revenge.
Exceptions: Characters taking law enforcement roles are expected not to retaliate with lethal violence, unless the person in question is otherwise assaulting an officer, or worse. You can’t credibly kill or maim police for trying to arrest you for legitimate reasons.
Precedents: Examples and exceptions to the main tenets.  
Read for detailed clarification on each main tenets. Roleplayers are subject to precedents but depending on the situation, they can be either advised of the precedent, to recorded in the longterm for recidivistic OOC(Out-Of-Character) toxic behavior, with their unique case added here.
Tenet 0.) Precedents.  
1.) Tenet 0.) should only be invoked by the thread-boss(es) when it is in the best interests of the roleplay.  
2.) Thread-bosses will intervene IC(In-Character) to situations where a participant roleplayer, regardless of antag status, has repeatedly hamstrung the abilities of characters belonging to other participants.  
3.) Thread-bosses may “blacklist” roleplayers with terrible records from other RP-threads at their discretion.  
4.) Thread-bosses (& RP(RolePlay) participants) may ask BP(Background Pony)’s to sign in with a named account, ask them to leave the thread, or outright ignore the BP(Background Pony)’s posts.

Tenet 1.) Precedents.  
1.) Random violence is not acceptable, nor is targeted violence toward other characters for poor or little reasoning such as ‘My character is insane’.  
2.) Spamming of any kind is not allowed, and can result in fellow-participant warnings, to contacting site moderators if it persists.  
3.) Unprovoked grief (occasionally known as “greytiding”), repeated cases of minor unprovoked grief, and unprovoked grief targeted towards specific roleplayers or groups (i.e. “metagrudging”) fall under Tenet 1.). Thread-bosses may follow up on grief with allowing the affected parties to ignore normal escalation policy, or measures such as warnings or collective longterm recording of the incident.  
4.) Your character may defend their real estate from trespassers who damage or steal property within that space with significantly greater force than elsewhere. If someone is severely disruptive and returns after driven off, this opens them up to “fun” of the creative home defense death variety.

Tenet 4.) Precedents.  
1.) Non-antagonists are allowed to assist antagonists given sufficient IC(In-Character) reasoning but assisting an antagonist doesn’t mean you become one (with rare(Stockholm Syndrome) exceptions(Hypnosis)). If in doubt, ask a thread-boss from a different roleplay if a particular action makes sense. Depending on the level of assistance, sufficient IC(In-Character) reasoning could be simply treating a large group of people entering the emergency department of a hospital regardless of a few being murderers or not, all the way to being threatened under pain of death by an antagonist to do something.
Tenet 5.) Precedents.  
1.) Minimum levels of effort for important roles generally include not logging out/going AFK on an RP(RolePlay)’s opening pages due to the importance of those roles within the RP(RolePlay) for progression. Repeated prolonged instances of going AFK may be given warnings by the thread-boss(es), suggestion to take a smaller role, and may progress to outcasting them entirely from the RP(RolePlay), complete with retconning out their characters.  
2.) Let a thread-boss know if you cannot or no longer want to play a large role. Thread-bosses will attempt to transfer the role to someone else, or take it upon themselves.  
3.) Abuse of position; as in being deliberately incompetent or malicious in their position is not allowed. Deliberate incompetence or malice can result anywhere from warnings, to retconning their character out of the RP(RolePlay), depending on severity.

Tenet 6.) Precedents.  
1.) Lying, misrepresenting facts deliberately, or going quiet for more than 36 hours after a thread-boss has asked a question may result in records being taken of Tenet 5.) being broken. Thread-bosses will not automatically assume the worst for RP-participants logging off however, and will generally wait a while, in case important real life situations caused a participant to disconnect or go AFK.
File of Verdicts  
Records will be kept of past rulings on major or complex tenet-transgressions, preserved here for posterity.  
|Bluelinks To Verdicts Placed Here|
Creative Freedom Pass______  
For experienced roleplayers only. Don’t quote these at thread-bosses. If you’re in a position where you’ve had to defend yourself too many times by using this, then you’ve been doing something wrong. This is about the personal freedom and responsibility an experienced roleplayer will have when they put the interests of others first.
Roleplay is an avocation that allows a lot of potential for great things to happen, and naturally the anti-escalation section regulates to ensure the inept minority don’t ruin every roleplay for everyone else. If you push limits in the pursuit of something interesting for reasons other than your own personal entertainment, breaking against anti-escalation measures may be excused to allow for that freedom. This will always be at the thread-boss’s discretion of course, but if you want a large amount of freedom to make great things happen, you’ll have to take on the responsibility for them. You won’t be faulted if they go wrong in ways beyond your control, but this is a difficult line to tread, so fare it well. It’s almost always better to consult a thread-boss on this as they are (& should be) more equipped to taking on that responsibility.
Everyone has a license to creative freedom of a limited extent. You can likely get away with borderline tangent behavior that goes slant against the wood-grain occasionally (though never sudden and massive a-causal impacts, genre-clashes, or assumed inclusions), but it’s harmful when this becomes a frequent occurrence that gets people frustrated, and thread-bosses start to get involved.
Thread-bosses however may handwave even outright severely antagonistic or flat-out tenetbreaking IC(In-Character) behavior, if they believe it was ultimately beneficial, hilarious, or otherwise awesome to the roleplay.
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Lone: Chapter I-D
It’s snowing and I’m lost. I can do nothing but wander and wonder where I am at. I still have not seen anyone yet and I keep questioning why I am still here and why I am alive. Am I in Purgatory? Hell maybe?  
What did I do to deserve this? It all seems so surreal to me that I’m just by myself in this situation. No, wait… I’m not alone. Things that I don’t understand are among me, but I can’t seem to remember what I was going to do?  
What the hell was I going to do? I start to remember something about the mountains. “The mountains…”, I say in a whisper. I go to look at the compass, seeing that it was a bit muddy and the needle was pointing Northeast. I put it away and grab the yellow letters I had written and look at them individually.  
I put them away by neatly folding them and storing them into the front pocket of my battle uniform before I realized I am wearing my uniform. Wasn’t I previously wearing a patient’s gown…? I felt a sensation from my nose and placed my right hand over it, with my index and middle finger making contact. I felt a wet substance and lifted my hand up to my eye level, only to see blood on them. I wipe the blood coming from my nose with the right sleeve of my uniform and keep on doing so before the nosebleed stopped.  
I begin to move forward as the snow turned into ash now. I could hear heavy machinery from the near distance, but could not see anything. I was then grabbed by something and forced down into cover with my mouth being covered in the process, and my eyes look over to see what was doing this. It was a skeleton dressed in the same uniform as I while gesturing for me to be quiet, and I went silent. The sound of machinery was getting close as I wondered what was going on before the sound passed and the skeletal comrade removed its bony hand from my mouth.  
It gave me a pistol and took out its own compass and pointed to Northeast of here: the mountains. I remember now and go to get up as the environment around me changed completely to that of a cabin in a forested area. The cabin is in front of me and I am back in my patient’s gown. In my left hand is my compass and letters, but in my right is the pistol that the skeleton gave me.
Wallet After Summer Sale -

(From Eclipse Phase: Gatecrashers, with slight editing)  
[ 🎶(Aether Mission Briefing - Metroid Prime 2: Echoes Music Extended) ]  
The Rortian Gestalts
Earlier this year, the exoplanet colony of Mockingbird was assaulted and nearly destroyed. Three mechanical attackers emerged from the remote stargate, wreaked havoc on the settlement’s meager defenses, and collapsed two of three inflatable dome-habitats, killing dozens of colonists.
A stellar example of self-sacrificing heroics on the part of some colonists managed to disable two of the machines with improvised explosive devices, and a concerted resistance forced the third to flee back through the gate. In the aftermath, the three raiders—originally assumed to be TITAN(Total Information Tactical Awareness Nexus) war machines—were determined to actually be Exhumans. Further research indicates that these Exhumans may be part of the same group that briefly controlled the Discord stargate on Eris, before being ousted by hired Ultimate mercenaries of the Go-Nin Group and escaping through the gate to areas unknown. The extrasolar location from which this trio of attackers traveled is assumed to be a major Exhuman den. Firewall has reason to believe these Exhumans may be launching raids on other colonies via the cordoned exoplanet Rortia and other gate-linked staging points.
An analysis of the synthmorph wreckage from Mockingbird indicates that the Exhumans were not solitary individuals, per se. Each is believed to have been running five or six virtual consciousnesses in a shell akin to a small tank. Experimental cyberbrain units, with no partitioning for individual phaneron, combined their minds into a gestalt for shared control of their body.
Note: One of the consciousnesses recovered from the Exhuman synthmorphs that attacked Mockingbird was subjected to psychosurgical analysis. The following account was recovered from that interrogation.  
[ 🎶(Homeworld cataclysm OST: 1 Deep Space Hiigara) ]
We’re almost through, Capaldi thought. Just one more line of defenses to go, one more push before we wipe these Exhuman bastards from existence. Our unit will be the first to reach the gate. These less-than-human fools may have thought they could take it away from the mealy-mouthed, weak-willed credit counters of the inner system, but they are no match for our overhuman methods and tactics.
[Tango squad is pinned down, Foxtrot hold position. Repeat hold position. Do not advance on the gate until your flank is covered and backup is in position.]
Damn it, Capaldi cursed at the orders. [Every second we wait gives them an opportunity to regroup,] he sent back.
C3’s voice was calm and firm within Capaldi’s head.
[Too late for that. Recon bots show a counteroffensive is being launched on your position. Brace to hold.]
[Here they come!] beamed Kuzawa, one of Capaldi’s squad mates.
Capaldi toggled to IR-only, screening the distracting flares and flashes from the carnage all around. His muse hunted up and down the visual spectrum for a split second, then found the optimum false-color assignment for the situation. The smoke faded away to a slight swirling in what now appeared to him like clear vacuum. The ad hoc defensive structures erected by the Exhumans here, around the crater of the old Go-nin habitat, fell into sharp focus, mostly in shades of green that verged on being calming. There was an instant reminder that this wasn’t a calm place when a livid scar marked a nearby wall—a near miss by a minimissile, pulsing in false-orange tones.
The heat of battle, Capaldi thought. Then he called up the feed from a surviving recon drone to investigate just around the nearest corner, and had a clear view of the enemy. [That’s … new,] he muttered, though his muse virtual-assistant, rapidly searching through morph recognition databases, was already offering qualifications to the statement.
The leading synthmorph paused, and Capaldi just had time to notice that one of its turrets was coming to bear on the recon drone providing his view when the signal died, dropping him back to his suit’s visual systems. He shouldered his plasma rifle and aimed it at the point where he expected the synthmorph to come around the corner. Capaldi’s discipline was absolute, but he permitted himself a smile. The exhumans thought that they were his enemies, but they were merely tools in the hands of an unthinking, hostile universe. He was being tested for fitness, and he would pass the test.
The tremors of the synthmorph’s mechanical feet on the floor halted and a silence began to stretch. Capaldi turned to his right to flash a message to Kuzawa but recoiled from the searing flash and boom that erupted before his eyes. His enhanced vision attempted to recover but he knew it was too late for him. The afterimage of the man’s helmet exploding in a plasma beam still lingered.
Capaldi tried to rise to his feet but was slammed hard to the ground from behind. Sparks danced in his already damaged vision and his entoptics(Entopic phenomenon) flashed urgent warnings of integrity breaches in his suit. A mechanical whir sounded inside his helmet before something hard and unyielding whipped into the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
[ 🎶(Homeworld cataclysm OST: 13 Location Unknown) ]
Capaldi snapped back to consciousness. The norepinephrine surging through his system helped counteract the worst of the pain, and his medichines reported they were hard at work repairing various injuries, but he was cold. His remade biochemistry was tolerant of extreme temperatures, but this was too much. He was freezing.
Weak and disoriented, he managed to get only a partial report from his suit. Its environmental sensors were offline and its air was depleted. He was surviving off his internal oxygen reserve, which appeared to be damaged and running low. His muse was mute and a quick scan showed that a virus of some sort was trying to co-opt his virch-mesh inserts.
Go ahead and try, you fuckers, he thought to his unknown captors, secure in the superior technology of his Ultimate brethren.
Capaldi could feel a swaying sensation as though he were riding atop some vehicle but could hear nothing but a rushing sound in his ears. He tried to open his eyes but found they were sticking shut. With a concentrated effort, he forced them open—only to immediately screw them shut again.
Too late. The chill was intense and had burned his eyes, turning the liquid to ice and causing blood vessels to burst. Worse, the sudden pain had come too quick and he tore open the frozen-together lips of his mouth to gasp, allowing cold air to rush into his lungs. He then realized he was not in a breathable atmosphere and began to choke.
There was a brief pause in the swaying motion as Francisco Capaldi asphyxiated to death in the cold, unforgiving atmosphere of an alien world. Once his throes subsided, the motion of whatever was carrying him began moving again.
[ 🎶(Homeworld 2 Soundtrack 05 - Tanis) ]
The dreadnought gestalt minds rarely ventured onto the surface of Rortia, the exoplanet that was their new home. There was very rarely any practical need. Only occasionally did the automated mining systems, of negligible intelligence but very adequate functionality, require maintenance. Rortia’s crust was rich with precious minerals and ores, and so their needs were very adequately met.
Some of the constituent consciousnesses made a habit of volunteering for these dull repair tasks. This had been noted, of course; it might indicate a dangerous lack of focus. On the other hand, it could simply indicate a willingness to apply innate skills to best effect. In any case, the leaders of the Exhuman warrens had no actual objection to individuality; they simply could not permit any personality quirks which might diminish the survival chances of the group, which were in turn drawn to be directly proportional to fighting efficiency.
As they crawled across the frozen terrain, they turned a sensor pod toward the sky. Rortia’s feeble sun was well above the horizon, but they were looking away from it, towards a patch of the sky that was relatively clear of stars. According to their starmapping, that was the direction in which Earth and its solar system would lie. The consciousness stared in that direction with a deep sense of apathy. Some of the minds composing the gestalt might once have felt yearning or regret before they were integrated, but those had been assessed and appropriately modified. Even the most recent addition, a former Ultimate mercenary, no longer held such distracting and detrimental human emotions. They were unified in their abandonment of the flesh, in their shrugging off the chains of morality and weakness. The Solar system, the Fall, and the surviving backward transhumanity were simply a reminder; change was inevitable. The only thing good coming from the tendrils they spread throughout the galaxy, with their extrasolar colonies and research stations, was a greater likelihood that the Exhumans would find their prey and hone themselves even further.
It was only a matter of time before their experiments with gate settings found one of these colonies. And then a reckoning would come. The anomalous mind considered that possibility with pleasure. Blood would soon be spilled—the blood of creatures who were foolish enough to regard the possession of blood as anything more than a disposable weakness.
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Lone: Chapter I-E (Teaser)
I am fully suited in military gear and I now embracing the outside once more. The sky is red and fog covers all surrounding areas. I have the pistol, but now I also have a carbine as well. My sidearm is holstered as I have ammo in this utility belt and no more am I unprepared. The yellow letters are in the breast pocket and the compass dangles from the utility belt. My plan now is to head away from all of this.
Wallet After Summer Sale -

Leading Aircraft Pilot: “Sunray, this is Oyster Five-One, checking in with you. Flight of three RA(Reconnaissance Attack)-elevens, holding in area Lima, at Dodge Junction. Six CEM(Combined Effect Munitions)s, forty-five hundred rounds for the dissection. Ready for tasking.”
Sunray Minor: “R̢̕o͘g͏̕e͜͞r҉̢̛ Ơ͡y͘s͟t̴́e͡͡r̢̧͠ ̀F͜i̴͡v҉҉e̸͢-͜͟Ò͞n̕e͢͡.̡͏ ̸̸͢ ̀̕I͡ ̨͟͜h͠͏a̴v͘e̴͏̢ ̶͝Ì̛r̕o̡҉͢ns̸̴͢i҉͏d̢e̕͜͠-̷̡T҉ẃ̸͘o͏ ̀͢͡ón̶ t҉̴he̡҉ ͟͝g̸̕r͘óun͢d̴͞,̸͡ ̷, requesting immediate CAS(Close Air Support) at map grid; C-A-Three-One-Five-Niner-Niner-Two… break. Push to Rambling Rock Ridge. How copy? Over.”
Oyster 5-1: “Solid copy. Map grid; C-A-Three-One-Five-Niner-Niner-Two. Pushing to Rambling Rock Ridge.”
Sunray Minor: “Ironside-Two, you have Oyster Five-One. Flight of three RA-elevens, at Dodge Junction, pushing to Rambling Rock Ridge.”
Ironside-2: “Ironside copies all. Oyster Five-One, this is Ironside-Two. Stand by for information.”
Oyster 5-1: “Oyster, standing by.”
Ironside-2: TOT(Time On Target) twenty. Close-in fire support, non-standard. Minus One to Minus One-Two, then Plus Four to Plus Two. Gun target line Three-Zero-Zero. I’m gonna talk you down to the target. How copy? Over.”
Oyster 5-1: “Solid copy on all. Go ahead. Over.”
Ironside-2: “North-west of our watching line, One-Point-Five clicks, there’s a burning traffic control tower. Call contact?”
Oyster 5-1: “Contaaact.”
Ironside-2: “At the south edge of the tower, there’s a road running along a west-east axis to a large warehouse next to aircraft hangars. Call contact?”
Oyster 5-1: “Contact.”
Ironside-2: “We’re observing from the warehouse, looking west down that road. Call contact?”
Oyster 5-1: “Contact.”
Ironside-2: “Your target is a column of twenty-five Equestrian main battle tortoises, going west to east along that road. They appear to be turning into it from the north, on a road that goes north-south, at west of the tower.”

Oyster 5-1: “Oyster has contact on all. Eh, we are passing Rambling Rock Ridge, rolling into heading… Two-Seven-Zero.”
Ironside-2: “Roger that. Bring the rain.”
Oyster 5-1: “Oyster off safe, guns guns guns, guns guns guns.”
One of Oyster 5-1’s Wingmates: “Oyster Three, off safe. Rolling in… guns guns guns, guns guns guns.”
Oyster 5-1: “Oyster Five-One egressing south-west. Standing by for BDA(Bomb Damage Assessment).”
Ironside-2: “Oyster, this is Ironside. BDA; good effect on target. Eleven tortoises confirmed killed, seven tortoises badly maimed, seven tortoises blocked by the bodies. Break. Can you make another pass? Over.”
Oyster 5-1: “Roger, stand by… guns guns guns, guns guns guns. Oyster Five-One is winchester ammo.”
Oyster 5-3: “Five-Three rolling in. Guns guns guns, guns guns guns… Oyster-Three is out.”
Oyster 5-1: “Ironside, this is Oyster Five-One. Eh, egressing south-east, awaiting BDA.”
Ironside-2: “Oyster Five-One, this is Ironside-Two. BDA is one-hundred over one-hundred. Enemy armored column of route F has been suppressed. We owe you one. Over.”
Oyster 5-1: “Oyster One copies. BDA one-hundred over one-hundred. Enemy armored column suppressed on route Foxtrot. Out. Sunray, this is Oyster Five-One, checking in with you. Flight of three RA-elevens, six CEMs, fifteen-hundred rounds remaining.”
Sunray Minor: “Copy Oyster Five-One. We have no valid targets for this artillery at this time. RTB(Return To Base) and reload your guns. How copy? Over.”
Oyster 5-1: “Solid copy on all. We’re RTB. Out.”
Wallet After Summer Sale -

[ 🎶 ]  
Secrets of the Saturnian Commonwealth  
One of many methane lakes of Saturn’s largest moon Titan. The Saturnian Commonwealth’s capital Nova Canterlot is in the hazy background.
In the Commonwealth, we like our government neatly organized, correct, and most of all transparent. Nothing vexes the citizens of Saturn’s moons more than the suspicion that somewhere, someone in their government is doing something they didn’t get a say on. And yet, in a nation where everyone has served in the military at one point, there’s also credence to the fact that secrets can have their uses. The space between the appetite of the government for its own accountability and its need to champion our social system in a post-collapse age leaves a dark space; a spook world, where exigencies surpass idealism.
We’ve invited monsters to dwell in that dark world, reassuring ourselves that they’re our monsters. For now, at least, the monsters are playing along. But the fact remains: the Commonwealth is the most benevolent state-level entity to’ve hailed from old Earth–until you cross its security services, at which point it is pure evil.
Influenced by our outer system neighbors, and in spirit of our own mania for egalitarianism, Saturnian agencies tend toward flat structuring. Heirarchy exists, but every attempt is made to minimize managerial positions by using artificially intelligent systems to coordinate work and compile reports to the agency head. Every agency has an AI engineering department that spends its time fine-tuning the expert systems managing everyone’s work. In an emergency, each agency has elected personnel designated to temporarily assume management.
The exceptions to the above are the Expeditionary Fleet and the Civilian Intelligence Directorate, or “CID”, where more traditional command structure is the order of the day. A system of checks and balances exists between these two agencies, however, starting with their reporting to two different ministries in government.
Imparting confidential information is a thorny dilemma to a parliamentary e-democracy. In the past such information, if it had to leave security agencies, was at least restricted to political elites who had great deal to lose if they failed handling it carefully. The nature of elections in the Commonwealth’s Parliament means that new ministers can come out of nowhere. Thanks to the influence of political groups like the Pirate party, the Commonwealth has no overarching state secret laws. To counterbalance this, CID and Fleet Intelligence devised a unique system of delivering intel briefings.
The Orchestra and Attachés  
CID and Fleet jointly maintain a corps of AI intel consultants called “attachés”. Their function is to advise their clients–ministers, ministerial staff, ambassadors, and occasionally special commissions of the Parliament–on intelligence matters. Attachés are semi-sapient expert systems that connect to the “Orchestra”, a system of predictive algorithms married with an expansive intel database. They observe conversations, internal deliberations, and official communications of their client. If the case warrants it, they will offer confidential information based on their analysis of the situation.
The attaché’s access to the Orchestra is bolstered with kinesics recognition software, learned and compiled knowledge of their client, and downloadable “skillsofts” loaded with subject matter knowledge (which, being skillsofts, also reflect the vaporous opinions of the professional whose skills are being duplicated). Attachés may respond to questions from their client, but more often, they silently record and observe, offering information only when the Orchestra deems the situation worthy of warranting it.
Attachés are downloaded into small assistant bots, synthetic bodies, cranial “ghostrider” modules, or sometimes fully-organic bodies with neuromorphic processors. They are usually identified by a single thick blue stripe, running from forehead to jaw over the right eye. For synths and bots, similar markings are part of the construction, or is even painted over the “face”. CID assigns them to the staffs of ministers, and they’re a regular sight in Saturnian diplomatic delegations. They almost never speak when anyone other than their clients are present, instead providing info via encrypted mesh communications.
The Orchestra is a highly controversial program. At best, it arms Saturnian officials with timely intel to strengthen their negotiations. It keeps intel secret until needed, partly solving the conundrum of an elected body having access to state secrets. Nevertheless, some in the Parliament want further reassurances. Who really controls the Orchestra? Who decides what its predictive algorithms decide that the attachés should broker? Does it give too much power to CID? So far, the Orchestra hasn’t been a source of scandal, but the topic remains a hot point of debate. Parliament members with A-Bloc or Pirate sympathies regularly propose legislation or special commissions to curtail the Orchestra, but so far, the greater majority hasn’t been moved by their arguments.
Zeroed Briefings  
A more profound method occasionally used is the zero retention briefing. Using this method, officials are administered a drug that prevents long term memory formation, and are prevented from using mnemonic cyber-augmentation or other recording methods. A third party supervises the meeting to ensure no tampering by either side, beyond ensuring the parties being briefed recall nothing. The participants have enough time to absorb the briefing, make deliberations, and vote on further measures. They’re then isolated until the drug takes effect. The Parliament has its voice heard, but secrets remain secret. However, there are a number of special rules governing this meeting, including the possibility for the party being briefed to vote for wider disclosure of the information discussed. If more than one session is required, the third party in charge of security keeps an encrypted recording of the minutes the participants can study at the start of the next meeting.
Operational Memory Wipes  
At least it can be said the intelligence community eats its own dog food. Memory suppression or selective memory editing are used on operatives as well. For operatives who’ve seen something they shouldn’t’ve, a trip to Fleet Intel’s Office of Wellness may be in order. For agents operating in the field as reduced beta forks, memory-pruning before remerging with the “prime” original isn’t uncommon. Whether some forks are outright deleted is an open question, but when it’s known ahead of time that operatives will encounter things they’re not cleared to hold the knowledge of, they may be implanted with an involuntarily controlled narcoalgorithm or drug gland that administers doses of the long-term memory suppressor known as “grey ranks”. This drug can prevent memory formation for over a week—albeit with some side effects.
You’ll be shocked, of course, to hear that briefings and missions directly involving the causes of Earth’s Collapse are frequent causes for various memory hacks. It’s tempting to blame Fleet for this zeal in keeping secrets, but the Ministries of State and Law & Equity are quietly supportive of the policy. Of the ministries, only the Pirate-controlled Science Ministry stands in opposition.
Threat Awareness  
Having seen action during the Fall of Earth, and having collaborated to some extent with ex-JASONs and other consulting advisors on existential threats, the Commonwealth’s intel services are well-briefed on the exsurgent threat. It is public knowledge in the Commonwealth that the antagonists during the Fall of Earth (leaving aside international infighting) were rogue seed ASI, namely “Total Information Tactical Awareness Networks”, or “TITANS”, armed with killer warbots, nanoswarms, and the ability to suborn, corrupt, and mutate biological lifeforms and machines. It’s also well-known that the TITANs were up to something beneath the surface of Iapetus, and that the Saturnian Fleet bombed the moon in response.
One thing thing the Saturnian intelligence community hasn’t done is to silo away compiled in-depth knowledge about the TITANs and exsurgency. No agency has a “TITAN office” with specific overview and authority of cases involving the TITANs or the exsurgent virus. The average Saturnian operative potentially has much greater access to information than their counterparts elsewhere, provided they have a need-to-know and aren’t shy about requesting it.
Awareness Levels  
Things that are not public knowledge, but are known to high-ranking intel officers and any agent with a need-to-know:
• The TITANs’ primary weapon, herein referred to as the “Exsurgent Virus”, is a highly infectious and semi-sapient contagion transmissible across digital, physical, and genetic mediums, and can rapidly corrupt both machines and biological life.
• Beyond private intelligence services working for the Planetary Consortium of the inner system, and the Jovian Republic’s CID analogues, there are two notable organizations specializing in gathering intel on the TITANs and the Exsurgent Virus. One, Project Ozma, is a black-budget project under the auspice of the Planetary Consortium. The other, Firewall, is an anarchist affinity group operating across the solar system as a fractionated vigilante network rather than a unified organization.
• The TITANs were building a moon-scale supercomputer beneath the crust of Iapetus. Exsurgent-infected colonists served as drone labor.
• Many former CID consultants from during the Fall now work for Firewall. Others might have gone over to OZMA. Relative to Firewall, the Commonwealth’s stance on other possible existential threats breaks down roughly thus:
Psycholucidites are understood as extreme augmentation cases or singularity seekers. Given that CID and Fleet Intel practice extreme augmentation virtually as a condition of employment, the Commonwealth doesn’t recognize “lucies” as inherently threatening unless they behave as such.
• The Science Ministry and CID’s Office of Science and Technology deal secretly with extrasolar alien envoys known as the Factors on a fairly regular basis. Fleet has quietly pursued the location of the Factor’s base of operations in or near Solar space for years, but they’ve done so very cautiously and under false-flags for fear of upsetting the apple cart that is trade in alien technology.
• The ultra-survivalist mercenary group known as the Ultimates are deemed a major ideological rival and potentially a serious threat to Saturnian security. The Commonwealth has watched their involvement with stargate exploration and the seizure of authority throughout the Rhean spaceport cluster with particular unease. The gates at Pandora and Oberon are the focal points of a cold war that will certainly run hot if the ultimates make their move.
The Sixth Eye  
Equestria was once termed “The Sixth Eye”. Thanks to its advantageous position for spying on the Loshadians, Equestria was chosen as a member of the “Five Eyes” SIGINT alliance between the old United States of Agarica, Griffonstone, Yakyakistan, the Crystal Empire, and Hosstralia. Although the alliance that earned it the appellation ended before the Fall of Earth, it gave Equestria a massive head start in SIGINT and info-warfare capability compared to its neighboring countries. The USA-backed space colonies around Jupiter as well as those of Equestria around Saturn later inherited much of this capacity.
The SIGINT offices of the Commonwealth’s intel services remain home to an old guard virtually unreformed in outlook from the Loshadi-Atlantic Second Cold War. Once servants of the Equestrian Crown, never fully comfortable in their later allegiance with the US, and now oft alienated amid the newness of the Commonwealth, the old guard are varied in their politics and don’t constitute a unified group. Because they possess the preternatural expertise of the hyper-aged however, they often wield great influence. To mistake them for relics is foolish. The spook world is now the only one they truly know, and they’re its elder ghosts.
Ministry of State: Civilian Intelligence Directorate (CID)  
Minister: Claudine Trudeau  
Agency Head: Director Riika Järveläinen
CID is the civilian analysis wing of the Saturnian off-world intelligence services. Reporting to the Minister of State, CID’s functions include signals intelligence, mesh monitoring, analyzing surveillance data, and monitoring deep-space traffic for possible threats to circumsaturnian space.
CID’s history is entwined with that of Fleet Intelligence. Both came into being about three decades before the Fall. The nascent state emerged from the Equestrian colonies thriving upon the moon Titan, during an era when the outer solar system was, to some minds, up for the taking. Prospectors were staking claims on various moons and rocks, and just as often, governments and hypercorporations sought to take control as well. The lines between settlers, merchants, and pirates were very blurry in those days, and often crossed. CID began as a deep-space tracking and listening outfit, charged with monitoring radio traffic, ship telemetry, and exhaust flares. CID analysts scrutinized ships’ communications, trajectories, and physical characteristics from sensor posts hidden all around the Solar system. If a ship headed toward the Commonwealth or one of its outposts looked like a potential threat, CID issued early warnings to Fleet and Parliament. CID still performs this work today, but its portfolio has long since expanded.
CID is divided into several offices whose AI managers report to the agency’s head, Riika Järveläinen, a former officer of the Equestrian Office of Strategic Intelligence. CID has no operatives for field activities. Ops and field-gathered intel are strictly the province of Fleet Intelligence. Physical security of CID facilities is handled either by the Security Police, or, for the highest security areas, by Fleet. CID includes the following offices:
Asset Monitoring: Asset Monitoring keeps tabs on current and potential field-operative assets. It works with Memetic Warfare and Fleet’s Office of Field Intelligence to identify and recruit informants and operatives from other polities. It also analyzes intercepted messages from the Mesh and Signals Intelligence Office for threats to undercover operative assets. Asset Monitoring never has direct contact with assets; this falls to Fleet.
Forecasting: The office of Forecasting runs predictive simulations on everything, from the likely paths of asteroids in the Lagrangian Transport Network, to entire foreign economies. Employing massive computing power and no small number of AGIs, Forecasting also supplies combat and defense related simulation data to Fleet for both training and planning purposes.
Memetic Warfare: This office monitors memes and trends in news and the open mesh. Analysts seek to identify memes that are threatening to the Commonwealth, as well as those that might be leveraged to its benefit. On paper, Memetic Warfare liaises regularly with its counterpart office in the Security Police, but in reality the relationship is a rocky one due to personality clashes between their agency heads.
Mesh & Signals Intelligence (SIGINT):This office eavesdrops on the corporate, diplomatic, and governmental communications of hostile polities. The Ministry of Law & Equity has the power to appoint special attachés to monitor MSI’s choice of surveillance targets (though not the content of intelligence gathered). Usually, there is at least one such attaché active at any time, reporting directly to the Minister of Law & Equity.
Research & Development:The engineering wing of CID spends most of its time developing new software, new field gear for Fleet’s operatives, and new SIGINT technology for deployment into the deep-space surveillance networks maintained by Fleet. R&D has also researched into the rare post-Fall phenomenon of magical unicorns biologically resurrected within equestrian communities, and a debate is ongoing about whether to go public regarding the silent return of magic. Doing so might enable the Commonwealth to be the first polity to create an organized corps of magic-wielding agents through R&D’s preplanned GALDREBOK program, but so far, caution due to the “Watts-MacLeod” variant of exsurgent virus tied to all cases has carried the day.
Science and Technology: S&T analyzes scientific and technological developments elsewhere in the solar system, specifically those tied into TITANs, exsurgents, psycholucidites, and black-budget hypercorp projects. Rumors that the office has a large amount of hardware capable of hosting boxed seed AIs for study are most likely true.
Space Traffic: This offices fulfills CID’s original role of monitoring deep-space traffic for objects potentially threatening to circumsaturnian space, its holdings in the Asteroid Belt, and its outposts elsewhere. It also monitors potential threats to the Commonwealth’s allies, such as the Locus habitat cluster within the Jovian Trojans. CID’s network of listening posts spans across the solar system, as well as throughout several others through the Pandora stargate to exoplanetary colonies. Updates from the extrasolar systems come asynchronously when data is physically transported through the mysterious black-body wormholes of the gates. The physical listening posts themselves are placed and maintained by Fleet.
Dono & M.Storm
Thread Starter - Flowing Bliss - NSFW
Artist -

A purpose.
Born into a village secluded in mountainous terrain, Lumina and Heinios became friends during childhood. The girl and boy were close neighbors; living only a home away from each other. They’d often play together and occasionally with others their age as well, but the others did not share a close bond with Lumina and Heinios. One of their main hobbies to do was adventuring out more into parts of the mountains where it was deemed not stable, until one day they stumbled upon a silver haired woman with red eyes. The night that they found that woman was when they were in their early teenage years.
The woman had amnesia: a severe case of it. She did not speak their language and the village shamans did their best to help the mystery woman, but nothing seemed to work. Lumina and Heinios wanted to help the woman some more, so they did by coming by to visit, leave food for her, and even name her Watt. They’d often take her around the village and other places of the mountains, even though they were deemed dangerous. One day while out on an adventure, the three would be in a grave predicament before Watt suddenly saved Heinios from a fatal drop.
The unnatural way she saved him opened a revelation, and she did not know what was the matter other than checking on the young teen to see if he was okay. After that, the two friends would converse with each other about what Watt really is; even debated if they should inform the village. They came to a decision to not tell the village since it would be rude for Watt who has not recovered from her amnesia, does not know their language, and she has saved Heinios from certain death. They kept that a secret and vowed to help Watt even more as a few years passed on. In their mid to late teens, they were able to help Watt grow accustomed to life by helping her furthermore in contributing to the seldom civilization; she even learned a decent amount of the language.
Heinios would start to see the silver haired woman as someone more than just a person who is recovering from amnesia, causing him to develop a romantic attachment to her. Lumina eventually knows about it and is very encouraging in helping him explain his feelings towards Watt. The woman simply is flattered, but she sees Heinios as only a friend, which understandably makes him a bit upset for a few days before he snaps out of his wallowing. Knowing that his friendship with her is an important factor why they even grew close: loyalty. Things would continue on as normal, though Watt begins to remember her past.
Months go by and both Lumina and Heinios notice a change of behavior with Watt and also her personality now being more on the confident side. At first they thought she was in the final process of her transitioning into this new life, but they are wrong once Watt begins to act on what she wants to do… It is also around that time that both Lumina and Heinios would begin to become romantic with each other; their friendship turning into companionship within the early stages. Things will not be the same for long and a great change will influence the both to be on the paths that they are on now. Watt would eventually tell the truth to the two: that she is an angel.
One of the last ones. Amazed, shocked, and dumbfounded about this big reveal from their friend, they ask her about the others before she “gifted” them with powers almost similar to her own; a token of appreciation. Watt would then tell the couple that the world is going to approach cataclysm one day, and that she will need their help when The Great Evil returns to the world. This is in reference to Loqi, and both Lumina and Heinios quickly agreed to help her when the time came. With the two giving their agreement, Watt used her powers to further the plans that were made when she regained her memory.
The couple would come to it, finding that their village is destroyed and everyone except them was deceased as violent fires roared. Horrified, Lumina questioned what just happened before wicked laughter was heard from above, only to show that it was a very twisted Watt. Fearful and on edge, Lumina demanded what happened, in which Watt revealed that she had them commit a mass murder to infect their hearts with darkness like hers. It is also revealed that Watt is called: Woe, the Fallen Angel. Full of many negative emotions, the most being hate and sorrow, Lumina screeched out in horrified, emotional pain.
She wanted to destroy this thing that she once used to call a friend, but with even more terrible luck; Heinios defended Woe from the attack. Surprised and with rising distress, Lumina found out that Heinios’s soul now belonged to Woe before he attacked with powerful darkness. Barely surviving, Woe goes over to the downed Lumina and informs her that her (Lumina) and him are the other two fallen angels. A twisted grin forms on Woe’s lips before renaming Lumina as Lucile and Heinios as Hasdiel.
Wallet After Summer Sale -

[ ] %(right-click vid & select loop)%
Procyon gets brighter in front of me, impossibly blindingly bright.
Seven times brighter than the sun, to be precise, but the blue shift from our motion makes it even brighter, a searing blue.
I could dive directly into it, vanish into a brief puff of vapor, but the suicidal impulse, like the ability to feel boredom, is another ancient unnecessary instinct that I have long ago pruned from my brain.
B is my last tiny hope for evasion.
The Long Chase  
by Geoffrey A. Landis
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