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Forge Notes: Experimentation Journal

 
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Kruger
THE ANVIL
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PostPosted: Mon Mar 24, 2014 4:28 am    Post subject: Forge Notes: Experimentation Journal Reply with quote

For my smith whom keeps my claws sharp.

The journal was sitting atop the anvil. He’d found it immediately on entering but had no idea where it had come from. The notebooks on his desk remained where he had left them. It was their contents that had him here so late… again. One was aged, the pages yellow and brittle to the touch. This one was the cause of Kruger’s mental unrest. It never seemed to matter how often he put the thing down and walked away, invariably he would return and read once more the notations in the margins. Formulas rested there, and they had captured his mind. The main pages were filled with techniques that he knew already, those he didn’t he understood well though. The process of the smith who wrote the journal was the same as any smith would pass on.

Forge temperatures, brine calculations, and heating times for the metals worked with. Folding techniques were present, but all of this was things he’d mastered long ago. The other notebook was his, within its pages were calculations, drawings of spirals that spun out in different directions. At the base of all those pages was a final word, failed. Kruger picked up the leather bound journal and opened it, the pages were blank. He was in a way grateful to whoever had left it there. It gave him a mystery that didn’t have his mind reciting numbers and trying to fit them into his formula. It freed him enough to start the fires in the forge and close the door to the shop. Kruger locked it tonight, he didn’t want to be disturbed in his contemplation.

The forge fire flickered off the walls and filled the air with the sulfurous smell of brimstone. Lighting the forge had been the key to the mystery. The answer had him smiling as an inscription on the inside cover became visible by the flicker of light and shadow. For my smith whom keeps my claws sharp. Of course it would have been her. He’d last seen her at the inn, she had stood over his shoulder and pointed to the notebook on his lap asking if he’d remembered to square a variable. She was gone just as quickly though, Kruger had begun to believe that she had been a hallucination brought on by the constant struggle to make his numbers function the way they should. Maybe she was telling him something by leaving the journal for him to find. That it wasn’t enough to simply calculate and recalculate. Maybe he needed to clear his thoughts somewhere too? Maybe she was right.

He sat and pulled a pen from his desk setting aside both notebooks and putting the journal in the place. The tip of the pen hit the page, but Kruger was drawing a blank of where to start. He closed his eyes, and all that came to his mind were those repeating cycles and the spiral that went along with them. This was where he would begin.

0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55…. It’s so strange, I can see them and count them out to infinity. I know in my heart that infinity is where the event happens, yet that is wrong. The event should be controlled. I ought to be able to see… no, I ought to be able to program where the event occurs. I ought to be able to limit the diameter of the opening so that only what I need comes through. There is a failing somewhere, but the formula always works mathematically. I can’t see it with my naked eye but I can feel the point where the tunnel bends away and chaos knows exactly where it ends up.

I see now what caused the flaws in my early creations. Five stable points was not accurate enough. It may have gone close to where I wanted it, but somehow it was slightly altered. I’m seeing these spirals everywhere now. I watched a dust swirl roll up the street the other day and knew the calculations that created its funnel. I could see every factor that created the swirl. The opening at the end of the street where the wind entered the block is where it began. The wind hit the face of the gem cutter and rebounded into the solid wall of the stable across from it. From the alleyway another influx of wind put a spin to the first, feeding energy into it until it was strong enough to raise the dust and carry it along.

It’s worse than that though, I knew that for the little funnel cloud to form in that particular spot, the wind had to come from the exact angle it was. In my head I could see every viable place for such a formation based on the winds direction. I feel like I am going mad here, these concepts are so hard to explain to anyone. I don’t have the right words. The realization had me altering my bellows though, and watching the effect on the flames in the forge. That experiment led me to create a variable exhaust from the bellows. I can now change the angle of they blow from, I can reduce the opening to change the pressure at which they blow. The result, greater heat that is able to be precisely where I need it.

This gives me more variables to work with, and I have been… When did I realize what it was that I had? Not till after Brian had given me the other smithy surely. I believe I understand now, there are seven pieces that possess the ability to aid in these gateways. I have discovered that I now have two of them. That’s what has changed, I feel it differently than I did before. What would happen if I had them all? What more could I do? Maybe it is me? It stands to reason that I am that eighth anchor point, my mind is so unstable now. I fight everyday to keep the numbers from overwhelming me and sitting down to do more calculations. I am chaos.




Image Credits: Horn of Plenty and Time and Unity
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PostPosted: Fri Apr 04, 2014 8:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The throne room had become a dark and bleak place.

Where banners of the Order of the Shade once stood proud from the walls displaying the insignia of her kingdom, now nothing was present in their place. Where a throne once stood atop of a three tiered dais at the far end of the nigh on cavernous room, the entirety of the once proud seat of power was simply gone, leaving a rather barren platform with the all too familiar features that the walls, ceiling, and floor of the throne room possessed; a smooth, black onyx crystalline surface that was so polished that you could practically see a perfect reflection of yourself.

Rarely did she ever come to the throne room unless a meeting was required between herself and her designated enforcers of her unbreakable will – and in times of war such as the one she found herself in, these meetings were becoming often, and sometimes many during a single day.

But today was different. She shunned the laboratory and simply allowed her replica drones to continue with her varying degrees of research, in favour of standing alone in silence, within the centre of the barren throne room, which had now become more of a meeting hall than a place to smugly perch herself upon a seat of power.

And what was she doing, prey tell? Well. She was reading a journal sized book, and it was evident she was reading through the first written entry, her crimson orbs glowing brightly as they skipped along each and every word. Unbeknownst to her, despite her continued stance to limit her feelings and become an emotionless shell, a small smile had crept up her lips as she graced the final word of the entry.

“Chaos.” She repeated aloud, her voice echoing off of the walls in a prolonged fashion, as if she stood within a great cathedral that would not halt its grip upon her haunting, spectral voice as it bounced around the room for almost a full minute.

She drew her eyes up towards the arched open doorway that led out into a long, narrow corridor, leading off to who knows where within the ever changing layout that was T’Barack Opalith. As she stared on down into the darkness of the hallway, she only finally tore away from her thoughts as the sound of something struck the pages of the journal.

Looking down, she noted that droplets of her own glowing, purplish life blood had stained a few blotches of Kruger’s entry, which quickly killed off whatever a meagre smile she had managed to muster previously.

She hadn’t a quill, nor ink to hand to pen in her thoughts. But who needed something like that, when the blood trickling down her chin and lips in a slow creeping stream was more than a perfect substitute.

This One hardly lifted a finger, as the blood from her nose had suddenly become sentient, and had started to slither down across her arms towards the book she held aloft in both of her claws. By the time the blood had reached the fresh blank page, the slithers of blood writhed across the surface, staining the paper so that she could leave her thoughts, her feelings, and her ideas written for Kruger to witness. All written in her own blood.

“My mind is too a chaotic amalgamation of information I do not fully comprehend. If it was not for the Sister Network and linking my mind with my clones, I believe the vast knowledge to which I had stolen from the A.I. DIANA, would had eventually driven me into madness. Or worse. I might had ceased to function in everyday tasks completely. It was fortunate of me to have such a method of sharing out my thoughts onto several dozens of clones prepared for such a task. Of course, such a method does not come without its faults, for there is some degradation occurring to the cloned variations of myself, due to the constant, relentless stream of information flowing between us all. While our bodies can cope, our minds unravel and twist. There has been several recorded incidents of the clones taking their own lives in an attempt to cut their connection to me, including several other instances where several was driven into a state of mindless catatonia.

But they are expendable. They are copies of an original. Mockeries of perfection. I tolerate their existence only because it serves my purpose. I am currently investigating other means to remove this weakness from my design.

I suppose, what I am trying to say is that I understand what it means to know something, yet unable to express it. It comes and goes, and eventually, you too will come to a solution. You will solve your puzzle in time. I know this. You are intelligent enough. You just require to switch off from your problems in regards to your theories, and to focus your mind onto something else entirely.

Which is why I have given you this journal. This way, we can communicate. I suppose this journal is not just for your sake, but for mine as well. With this, I can also look away from my research and responsibilities, and take the time to focus upon something else.

However, in regards to the capabilities of your forge, is it not possible that the variables you seek are actually hidden within plain sight? Is it not possible that the variables are in fact very real, and very tangible objects that are mathematically, structurally, and molecularly accurate and beneficial towards these theories? Is it possible that the variables, could very well be certain objects? Or, perhaps is it possible the other variables could very well be… You? Your structure. Your design.

I best cease this entry here. I have procrastinated long enough. I have a new body to design to house my consciousness. This body is failing me, despite your attempts to repair it. It would seem this war is far more costly than I had ever imagined. Perhaps this will be the end of me. Perhaps I fight myself into an eternal slumber once and for all?

Will I dream of tranquility and peace when I reach there? Or will I remain within a horrid nightmare I so richly deserve."


At the bottom of the page, a bloodied, purple-glowing imprint of lips was left below the entry.
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 07, 2014 6:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Tears In Heaven

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same
If I saw you in heaven?
~ Eric Clapton

The discovery of words, her words written in the journal, had startled him at first. Not that she had the ability to do so as much as that she chose to. How many times had he read them always picking up his pen and setting it aside? There was more to this than a simple means to talk despite his desire to make it just that. He was deep beneath the earth now, nestled away in the underground forge. The journal had come with him. Another decision that he’d seesawed on repeatedly. The truth of the matter was that in the end he couldn’t remember including it in the other things he’d brought to this place.

Beneath the parabolic stone ceiling sat the anvil that once had been placed in his shop. It couldn’t stay there. That determination had come when he had contemplated bringing the ebon forge to the shop. That they were a pair had become obvious to him the night he’d spent dismantling the forge to clean it. The truth of it was easy to believe upon seeing the carved musical scale and the inlaid F note. It was about many things for him. His mind fell back to his greatest sin, and the reprisals given to him for asking one fatal question. “Why?” The question still haunted him.

He wasn’t being so mundane as to wonder why him. His question as offered could have been phrased better with the use of ‘how’. For him it was just a question of semantics. ‘Why does it work?’ That understandable question fell on one who didn’t understand it. He’d given up blame long ago, but the consequences were still etched into his skin. There had been fear at the branding, yet somehow he felt his old master feared Kruger’s questions more than Kruger had ever feared him. The chamber served to resonate his voice, it wasn’t echoes exactly, more of swirling foci that sent the word up and away from him into that makeshift dome.

Kruger’s breath sighed out of him, he gave a nod ready to finally speak with her again. This One she called herself. She remained Renna to him. He’d hurt her out of some kind of tough love, and she’d let him. Worse than that was that she had actually come to him for it. Perhaps people would find their relationship some kind of perversion. Maybe they would be right, but it worked for them both. She was the weapon, he was a weapons smith. The symbiosis between them may never be understood by those who looked at them individually.

Other smiths might have served the same purpose. It had been chance alone, or maybe some strange function of chaos, that had him first approach her at the little flower stand. It had been Kruger who took the time to return the edge to her claws that she had allowed to be dulled. There would be those who blamed him if they knew how he had worked against them. Those he saw as trying to tame her, to make her feel remorse for things she did. Others wanted her destruction, he’d opposed them before and would again. They seemed to judge by their own moral standards asking how can she do such things. His own question he felt was more to the point. She was a weapon, how could she not. Tools can be made into weapons, but weapons, even the best of them fail when you try to make them tools. Try to cut paper with a sword and you can, it will never be what you need it to though.

Starting would be simpler today, there had been less of an issue behind the mathematics of the process. She’d been right, there were many pieces involved in the forge. Many things he was learning as he delved deeper. These were the things he wanted Renna to know. He needed her, there were others who could serve his purpose, but she had chosen him. He wanted to deserve it. He wanted to make her proud of him.

You’re right, there are other tools involved here. I’ve moved my experiments though, I feel I need to. The fact is that I have moved the anvil which began my understanding to a place that Brian, no it was Raven, the two still confuse me. Regardless, I have moved the anvil to that place underground. Funny how the spiral works, the very corridor into this place is another of them. It takes me back to the ancient smiths of the Bronze Age. Often they used the same method of entry. Some would say to add mysticism to their work. They were quite secretive after all, but if I listen, I can hear any approach from above along the carved walls. If the people above knew what I was about, they would try to stop me Renna, and I can’t allow myself to be stopped this time. I refuse to be ignorant any longer.

Perhaps you would be interested to know what I am finding? The forges are alive, there are seven of them. They are only partly alive though. Separation of the pieces has allowed for some of us to excel in the field. The placement of the anvil is temporary. I work to replace what’s been missing from them both, beginning with the bellows. Discoveries are strange and individually they are just random facts. I’ve told you my work with the bellows already, but I have come to realize that what I possess is too small to do the job. It is not strong enough to breathe the life back into the forge. As it stands the forge is like an aged pneumatic patient barely getting enough breath to survive. This realization came from what I am calling The Gallery. Its function has been to use sound to channel energy. Without the dome there can be no quantum tunnel.

Until recently I thought a dome was enough, now I realize I have limited myself because the dome must breathe as well. Ductwork is necessary, and the ability to regulate positive and negative pressures. As it stands, I can only open gates if I am operating at specific frequencies. Too much or too little and the result is failure. The gateway becomes unstable. I can fix it, the bellows must be enlarged. It must be multi-chambered. There needs to be as many ports from the bellows as there are chambers. Therein lies the first of my ideas, the ports being adjustable. The intakes and exhausts for the ductwork must be variable as well. Like a pipe work on and organ smaller ports and pipes for different sounds. I am not proposing the ducts become music makers, merely that I am able to adjust the pressures. Resonance will become adjustable based on wave interference.

It may be possible that if I am able to trap sounds I don’t want, that I may be able to do the same with light. I am at a loss right now as to how to run such tests. I can see it all Renna, though I am still working out how. It is an overly complex system of determination chaos. This is illustrated through the cycle of a double rod pendulum. I’ve yet to determine if that means I have multiple pendulums or a single one with many rods. I know that if I can find the beginning, and know the factors, I can plot the course. I can make these quantum tunnels go where I want them. Maybe even to you.

I’d hoped to keep this clinical Renna, a sharing of thoughts and ideas, but I just don’t know how to do that. That you’ve needed to share your mind with these copies doesn’t really surprise me. Oddly I don’t look at them as copies, if they were to come before me they would simply be you. What one knows all do, or am I wrong about that? I could be, I can admit that much. Others might tell you to be careful in your war, you know I am not others. Do what you were made for, what I’ve known since the moment I first took your hand. I don’t know your origin, or why your bodies are failing. Another puzzle for my mind I suppose. I’ve worked with intelligent weapons before, always it is the same struggle. They wish to rid themselves of their rigid bodies without ever realizing that the one they seek to enter is far feebler.

This is not you that I am talking about, but the imperfect constructions of wizards and smiths. Few realize the long term effect on the mind of the sword. Containment is the problem, being wielded by another is all they can ever hope for. You wield yourself, your mind is vast. It’s no wonder so many wish to control you. I want you to break free of limitations, my repairs while semi-effective are but a stopgap. I want to do more, you deserve better than the best I have available. The thought of your end saddens me, even though I know this is illogical at best. I for one do not believe you deserve nightmares. You’ve been pure always, purity is rewarded, or at least it should be.

If you go to the dream, will I be there? Will it be for good or for ill? Will my secrets be discovered before you get there? Will those who would stand against me send me to that place first? Would you know my name if I saw you there?

K~


Kruger closed the cover on the journal and kept the silence that had become a part of him.


Image Credit: Whispering-gallery Wave and Double Rod Pendulum
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PostPosted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 1:44 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

It had been weeks since she took special note of the journal. The correspondence between herself and the smith far from her mind, as she wrestled with her own problems.

Day by day, she felt weaker, and weaker. Day by day, she was expressing herself far too emotionally inclined than what was the norm with This One. Her mental faculties were loosening and her emotional inhibiting protocols were crumbling. Already she had sought to create destruction – a wanton destruction in hopes of… Of what? Why did she attack Arthour the way she did?

There was no logic to it. It was a base, instability of her mind. It was as if she was returning to the expected normality that she once was. She could not let that happen. A new vessel needed construction to better house her intelligence and to maintain the Manticore Virus that made up her existence.

Perhaps, one might call it a soul? A soul in a machine? How cliche... She almost chuckled at that.

This One broke from her thoughts as she turned her hooded gaze from the slab of cold black crystal, where a cadaver had been placed and operated upon. Organs had been removed in a perfected state as if withdrawn from the hands of a skilled surgeon. However, their current situation upon the sleek blood stained crystalline floor were quite evident that This One, upon removing an organ, simply tossed it aside.

The dead woman she operated upon was perhaps once a beautiful specimen of living beauty. But now? With a shaved head, and a flowering chest of ribs exposing steaming hot innards exposed to an icy cold environment, she was not going to exactly win any beauty pageants.

For Miss Universe of the Undead, other the hand… She might had stood a chance.

Such a trail of thought brought a dark grin to her lips, as a clawed hand withdrew from the open chest cavity, holding within its cold metallic grasp a heart she had just severed from the rest of the vascular system. As she gazed upon the heart, she found her mind going back to the recent entry from Kruger, going over each and every word she had memorized from the entry for the hundredth time, within the last few hours.

He reminded her of herself at times. Reminded her when she was born from the chaos of Batten’s prison, that she was destined to show the world – no, the Universe itself what perfection truly is. She isn’t as ignorant to assume she, is perfection incarnate. No. For she too strives to attain it, and that much is evident from her self-experimentation.

How many clones had she sacrificed, now? Hundreds? The exact number was lost to her. For there was no reason to keep count. No reason to remember the endless agony she experiences every time she sends a part of herself to the operating table.

Would Kruger do the same? Was he willing to advance his ideals and theologies so much so that he would willingly make himself a test subject?

Would he die?

Turning her head, she glanced across the bleak, empty space of one of many experimentation chambers, to the journal that sat quietly next to the open, arched doorway.

Would he allow her to help him?

Can she allow herself to feel concern for an artist of hammer and anvil who wished to use the same tools to shape the very fabric of the Nexus; time and space, itself?

As long as my purpose is fulfilled, my end whenever it comes shall be embraced. My legacy of perfection will continue on. I work now for this, and nothing more. But my end shall not be just yet, for I have yet to show existence what I am prepared to do to make everyone… Content. Happy… Free from mortality.

Your pipe-organ duct construct is of a sound design in theory, however, from what I can understand, This One would only assume that any construct you create for this design will be of a specific; and more than likely, enchanted metal. While I do not question your abilities as a metalworker to achieve this with satisfactory results, I however question you this. Are you content with a satisfactory result, or do you wish something with a one-hundred percent probability of success, while minimizing error?

While it has not been asked of by you, I have begun the steps to aid you to this end in regards to the construction of the ducts’ inner workings by using the uniquely adaptive crystals I have the capability to create. A simple change in the crystalline lattices of the molecular structure of my crystals could yield an acoustic metamaterial that can influence the sound pressure waves to which you wish to manipulate, increase, or negate all together. By feeding the raw sound into the ducts, and down along an inner working of interlocking crystalline tubes with these attributes, you could very well achieve this with a minimal of effort and maintenance required.

Achieving a prototype of such a mechanism is currently underway, and manufacturing them for you en masse will be of little hindrance to me, if you are willing to use them to aid you in your tasks.

If you wish to manipulate the light spectrum as well, I can create a prototype that could potentially do both. However, this will take further time to develop a working specimen. It will also take time for me to construct a console to which you can adjust the crystalline tubes without having to go into the ducts yourself to do so manually.

Before you reply, know that I will not take no for an answer. The research is already underway. Not only will it aid you, but such a technology could also have a beneficial result in terms of sonic-based weaponry to which I could apply to my arsenal and my own design. A prospect I find…

Interesting. A little something that was inspired from all of my recorded data with the entity known as Banshee.

Kruger. There is something I must confess. While my emotions are dumbed and I have rejected all who supposedly aid me, I have yet, rejected you. You treat me as I am. A weapon. You fix me when I ask, and you do not complain. I show up at your door, bleeding, and you stitch away the wound and send me back out the door without a moment’s hesitation. You do not cradle me in a protective bubble like so many have done… And while, I was happy at the time during such ignorance and bliss, it only dulled my senses. My purpose… It dulled my mind. It blunted my claws.

But you don’t do that to me, Kruger. That is why I respect you, and why I would never betray you. You sharpen my claws and you happily toss aside the sheath to let me loose again, and again without a care to those who fall before me.

It makes you… Special. You help that which could end everything you yourself love. Kill everything. Devour everything. Make everything… Perfect.

However. If they send you to the dream to which you have mentioned before me; if you are purged from this life, know that you will not be alone. No. I will be here, killing every last one that took you away from me and this world. I will send their souls to you, so you can see the despair upon their faces. The mutilation I will cause upon them. You will see then just how sharp of a weapon I am. How deadly I can be.
And you will smile. And I will relish in their deaths knowing that you will smile along with me.

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PostPosted: Fri May 09, 2014 2:46 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Wonderwall

There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how
I said maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
~ Oasis


The new conduits had come, Kruger spent a great deal of time putting them into place. Renna had provided him with pieces of her, they were far from the real thing, save in the way they looked. The underground construction was progressing though. He kept coming back to the journal though, reading the words over and over. They made him smile, not just the personal parts but the sharing of ideas. She understood what he was doing, more than that she knew where it would take him. The space beneath the city was being carved out in near secret. Kruger carried the journal with him now, inspecting the new parts of this underground forge.

He listened to the sound, noted how they changed based on where he stood. This had been the goal, the funneling of sounds through arches and the crystal conduits. He was satisfied with how things had developed. There was a precision in that one wouldn’t expect in a place that had become so large. He could in essence tune the resonance of sound to allow only those frequencies which he wanted. He could raise and lower the temperature of the conduits to adjust the oscillation in the crystals. There were other steps that needed to be taken though.

Kruger sat in a corner with that journal in his lap and a pen ready to start writing. The soot on his hands smudged dark fingerprints onto the page he’d opened to. The real Renna had come to him on three occasions since her last entry. Once just before she transferred, and then there was Beltane. He’d never felt quite so secure as when he walked with her through those crowded streets. The touch of her metal claws was something that terrified some people. It only ever comforted him. He wasn’t blind, the looks from people they both knew weren’t missed. They didn’t understand, and he couldn’t make them understand. They hold their weapons sheathed, covering the dangerous sharp edges. They were the same ones that tried to sheath Renna, which was something he could never do. Renna’s beauty was in being exposed for all to see.

I’ve discovered something. It’s been there all along staring at me and mocking me with its simplicity. The fault is not the math, for so long I’ve been wondering where my flaw is in the mechanics. How fitting that the flaw is the opening variable, the Point of Origin. The notes I’ve put down, every one of them precisely worked out and still my experiments were failing. I’ve been starting in the wrong place though. The book from which I have gained so much insight does not come from Rhy’Din. All of its variables begin from another world and that needs to be accounted for.

I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten to thank you. The crystals arrived in good shape. The pair of drones you sent are adapting them to the layout I need. I needed to alter one of them though, they were so similar that often times I couldn’t tell which one I had given what instructions. I asked Red One to change her hair color, that’s where the designation came from. She turned it a bright red color, that instruction was taken up by Black One as well. It has increased how efficiently we work together. I wonder what you would think of this place now. The resonances are incredibly beautiful, even the harshest of sounds echo through and create such intoxicating harmonics. I wanted to show you the last time you were here, but you needed to leave so quickly. Have faith, I will not fail. There is too much that has become clear to me.

I need to discover where I am, to find my position relative to the notebook where all this began. The cosmos are huge though, I fear that I need to learn how to map star charts now. Where am I, can I find that and if I can then can I find you out there? Why do all my answers breed more questions? Why do I feel like all the answers are stuck in time?

I didn’t know how much I missed you until I saw you. Your company the other day was something I hadn’t expected. I can still feel the edges of your claw on my skin. Knowing that you would avenge me with those same claws is probably more comfort than I deserve. Sometimes it’s a distraction, but it isn’t unwelcome. I probably left you curious, there are other realms and other pieces of the forge that must be investigated. I have a few ideas where I need to look for that. It makes a strange kind of sense who I must go to for that.

I’ve been avoiding writing, I’ve had to get to a point where this is beneficial to the project. For me that meant suppressing feelings that you would call sentiment. Still, I will say that I miss you when you’re away. I wouldn’t dream of pulling you from your duties though. I’ll leave you with one last thought. If anyone were to send you to the dream, they too would find their way to you by my hand. Each of them with a message directly from me so that you could know the swath of destruction I lay down for you.


Kruger closed the notebook once more. He looked up as Red One passed in front of him carrying another of the crystalline tubes that were lining the walls of the underground chamber in ever increasing amounts.



Image Credits: Harmonics and Point of Origin
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PostPosted: Fri May 30, 2014 6:47 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

The sprawling unseen underground complex that penetrated the core of the floating continent of Negazarcurgis was simply a marvel of engineering that was still far beyond complete. Sprawling carved rooms made within the onyx rock housed great skeletal frames of structures, where a task force of several hundred Taurii slaves lived out their final days upon this mortal coil.

This One had been moving from complex to complex, inspecting each facility’s bones so that they adhered to her strict instruction, while more skillful hands worked tirelessly away in make-shift factories within the city walls high above her head on the surface level on the more delicate of pieces of technology, that was to fill these seemingly crude assembly lines.

But for what purpose?

It was an answer that was as simple as the outcome for here; in these great underground factories yet un-built, is where she will build her legacy that will outshine all of the other weak bodied and minded incarnations of her past.

Here, crystal-technology will be assembled into great machines of war she has thus far been prototyping for years in the guise of her many experiments involving her bio-mechanical viral strains.

Unfortunately, she has only been able to produce a limited number of combat-suits, weapons and war machines due to a lack of workforce… A workforce that was mostly comprised of her own clones. It was a task to keep all those egos in check; slaughtering those that thought outside of her control or those that simply were defected due to the accelerated maturation process affecting their mind or body. Sometimes even both.

With these factories under her direct control, she no lingered required such an unstable, unpredictable and potentially rebellious workforce to aid her. Everything, will be automated at a mere thought.

And she had the A.I. DIANA to thank for that.

This new processing capability allowed her to go beyond what she had hoped to achieve.

Almost anything seemed possible.

Having toured most of the complex, she found a discarded tool table located at the upper levels to which caught her attention, then with a glance to the diary in her grasp, decided it was time to produce a new entry.

There is no need to thank me, as I have stated previously, I will do anything to help you in your mission. I am pleased the clones are working to your exact specification, however, they have a limited lifespan and I expect their cellular degradation has already begun to occur. If you notice any strange habits developing between them, or individually; including anything beyond your direct command, then I advise you to terminate them immediately.

They are the older versions that have been known to go rogue or insane, and I have yet to fully clone a working specimen based upon this new body of mine to replace them for you, for it is a complex process to produce one. If you combine that with our limited research facilities at this time, I am afraid your assistants as it were may not be in constant supply.

You will be pleased to know I have developed the console to which I mentioned in a previous entry to manipulate the crystalline tubes that you now possess. Currently, each tube needs to be manually tuned to the frequency to which you desire, however, with this console, you may manipulate each and every tube with a mere thought.

This device is based upon the Sister Virus’s psychic-network. By simply touching it with your fingers, you will be able to control and attune the tubes with your mind to an accuracy of roughly 99.3%, as opposed to manipulating the tubes manually. This will save you time and energy. However, the stress upon the psyche if using the device frequently, may produce migraines and insomnia. I have attempted to eliminate these side effects but to no avail. My recommendation is never staying linked with the device for more than ten minutes a time, which should be more than sufficient to retune at least 88% of the tubes. A five minute break is recommended between sessions.

The device will arrive tomorrow. Red and Black have received their orders and instructions on how to install it, however, I recommend you over watch the operation. The power core of the device is a miniature version of Negzarcurgis’s SCHISM Reactor. It houses an unstable molecule taken from the SCHISM Reactor to power it indefinitely. The device must be treated as if you are handling a small nuclear power-cell… or as if you were handling my claws.

There are failsafe protocols installed within it if this does occur, but there is no need to explain that. It is also automatic.
In regards to the point of origin variable, I will also attach all the available star charts we have recorded from this dimension to aid you in that task. It may be fruitless, but perhaps having them may somehow aid you.
I am sorry we have been having brief encounters as of late, but my war has escalated and I fear the worst. I have constructing a great many things here, and I wish you could see it.

Great factories from where my ideas can flow from and take shape at the merest of thoughts, feeding my war against those that are inconsequential to this world. There are too many Gods and Goddesses here, and while I am related to them to some degree, I believe there can be only one Goddess, with one idea, and with one power.

Once I have devoured them all and have stolen their abilities, that Goddess will exist through me.

I will be perfect.

I will be a deadly weapon.

No one will oppose me.

No one will ever use me again.

Will you stand beside me when I take my place as this world's one true Perfection?

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Last edited by This Dark One on Wed Jul 30, 2014 12:06 pm; edited 6 times in total
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 11:36 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Black Hole Sun

In my eyes, indisposed
In disguises no one knows
Hides the face, lies the snake
The sun in my disgrace
Boiling heat, summer stench
'Neath the black the sky looks dead
Call my name through the cream
And I'll hear you scream again
~ Soundgarden

His mind was spinning with so many things, it was little wonder that the simplest of explanations hadn’t occurred to him. The construction of the underground forge was occupying much of his time. It had expanded in all directions, the ceiling rising to one hundred eleven meters at its highest point in the dome. Its length had grown to one hundred fifty eight meters.

There were two wings, one at each side of the domed chamber. The entire place arched to maximize the resonance of sound waves. Both Red and Black One had been invaluable in the construction, even now they were helping to assemble the crystalline conduits that would run throughout the entire place. Kruger couldn’t help the pain in his chest as he watched them though. They had been deteriorating slowly. He’d been warned it would happen, but knowing hadn’t really prepared him for seeing it.

They resembled her so much that sometimes he could imagine them to be the real One. Kruger had erected a large platform in the center of the domed chamber. A staircase wound its way around the outside of it to the top some ninety meters above the actual floor. The twisting staircase turned in the same direction as the hidden corridor that spiraled its way down to the forge. Atop that platform was the place where the smith would do his work. The platform was attached to a spindle that would allow him to turn the forge in whatever direction he needed it to be. The base of the dome was level with the top of the platform, it too had the ability to be turned. The vents and intakes would be paired up with crystal conduits which ran intricately through the caverns. Ports from the forge and the bellows would be used to increase temperature and pressure so that Kruger would be able to target specific resonances and eliminate others from his work. All of this had come from his research, every advancement of the new forge had come from studying and learning to understand as much as he could.

How long ago had it been since Red had come to him and said he was needed. It had been true, though the need wasn’t what he’d expected. He stood atop that platform looking down on the pair of clones and realizing that they wouldn’t be with him much longer. Kruger understood that the part which was One would find its way back to her, yet having them here was a physical manifestation of One’s regard. When it was gone he’d be left with just the memory.

Black One appeared at the top of the winding stair, she advanced on him expressionless in her hands was a journal. “You need this.” It was said flatly, a matter of fact to the clone though how she knew that he would need this now was beyond him. Kruger nodded accepting the mild burden, his stare following after Black One until she disappeared from sight. He traced the edges of the journal with the pad of his thumb, his forefinger curled to the top right corner and pulled open the book. Maybe she was right and this was exactly what he needed.

The pages were smudged with his fingerprints. It was impossible to keep the thing in good shape with the nature of the work he did. If One had seen it, she hadn’t mentioned it, either she understood or those kinds of things didn’t find their way to her copy. The pen was in his hand as soon as he laid the journal atop the anvil. It was moving before he had clearly figured out what he wanted to say.

It’s happening, much as you said it would. At first I couldn’t really see the degradation, now it becomes more obvious every day. That part of you which you have sent here will be back with you soon. I assume it will be retasked. It isn’t easy to watch though, I won’t put them down unless there is no other choice. They grow increasingly agitated, yet never towards me which I find interesting since I may be the most flawed thing in what they call a life. This shouldn’t be the point of writing though, I just… thought you would want to know.

I’ve said before that there are answers stuck in time. This has received an odd mix of responses, the oddest perhaps being that time doesn’t really exist. Time is something created by men. This I cannot agree with. While I do concede that the measurement of time is created by people, time itself is linked with motion. The world is not in the same place today that it was yesterday. The universe continues to expand so even when the galaxy completes its revolution this planet, all planets are not in the same place. This is relative to the point of origin, except in that case I was speaking of world of occupation. Now I am speaking of what I will call time of origin, where am I now in regard to everything? I can’t use yesterday’s number for today’s work. I wouldn’t be able to go back there and do the work, at least not yet. The charts will help, the rate of universal expansion will help as well. Do you know where I am, when I am? It’s strange how things go, the more I understand the harder it is to do the work. Once I simply would have begun and done the work.

That work is flawed, always and I am past understanding why that is. Now I can’t seem to get the work to function properly, yet for every failure I realize that I am closer to the truth behind it all. The time is coming when all the variables will be in place and the flaws will fall away from my creations. The tuning console will speed up the process, having that crystalline network integrated into the forge is key to the opening of the quantum tunnels. It will give this place a voice that can cause the barrier to shudder and vibrate enough to become insubstantial. That will allow passage for whatever I have attuned the forge too.

We seem to spend a lot of time apologizing to one another only to be told there is no need. It’s true enough there is no need for you either, except that I have begun to believe that it is a way to convey that we wish it could be different. We both know it can’t though, there is no place for it. You must follow through, must consume them all and I must continue my endeavor and hope that it doesn’t drive me completely mad. You’re perfection is hoped for, and I would gladly stand as witness.

Kruger closed the journal, knowing that he’d probably said more than he should have. He also knew that he hadn’t said nearly as much as he would have if he hadn’t forced himself to stop. He stood alone looking down on the face of the journal trying to find a way to finish his thoughts but all he could come up with was, “I know you must pursue your war, I miss you too.”


Image Credit: Metric Expansion of Space
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PostPosted: Wed Jul 30, 2014 8:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

“The clone designated by your little pet as ‘Black,’ has not been in contact to update us on the status of Kruger’s progress,” chimed Crysinda with a cocky sense of mirth as she regarded coldly the immobile, cloaked figure resting upon her dusty throne of crystal and bone, “and when you consider the timing of the other clone’s – how should we say… abrupt, disconnection from the Sister Network… I believe it is in our best interest to tie up this loose end before it spirals out of our control. A rogue clone and a smith with illusions of grandeur cannot possibly be allowed to exist any further.”

The hooded figure at the throne tilted up its head, crimson eyes glowing forth from the blackness that shrouded its emotionless features. But nothing was said.

“He is dangerous. He must be-”

“Am I being illogical, daughter?” Snapped One, lifting a claw up from the throne’s crystalline arm tipped with a bleached white skull, “Is my interests in Kruger’s work that much of a hindrance?”

“If it was only his work I would-”

“What are you insinuating?” One leant forward, almost hissing her words.

Crysinda sighed and merely fluttered her eyelashes towards her. “Please, Mother. Men was the death of the Original. Surely you can see reason that this will only end badly. He must be stopped. He has our technology and with it, if caught, it would not take half a brained dolt to link it with our bio-mechanical advances. But I see your emotions are getting the better of you… or should I say, your clone.”

One’s claws clenched tightly about the skulls, bladed fingers biting deep into abyssal eye sockets.

Crysinda continued, “I have monitored the link between that clone and you. It would seem she is having her way with your man.”

Crysinda…”

Tilting a brow, Crysinda smirked. “You preach yourself perfect and beyond that of the weak creature that spawned you, but yet you still feel jealous-”

Snapping to her feet, One quickly made her way down the dais towards Crysinda at a casual pace, her cloak trailing behind her as large feathery wings of black parted.

“Update me on the losses of the previous battle via the Network. I want all casualties transferred to Negzarcurgis and the forward base abandoned. I want every last man and woman and child safely on Negzarcurgis before we SCHISM-shift. Is that understood?”

Bowing her head, Crysinda smiled to herself. “And what of our little problem? Do you wish for me to send big sister, to attend to it?”

Bare feet slapped against the cold crystal floor as One moved away from the throne, her claws clenched either side of her hips.

“I’ll deal with it myself, once I write something down.”

I will be sending you all relevant data we have gathered in terms of when and where relative to the position my current fixed gates have locked onto Rhy’Din, with this message. Please turn over to regard such.

From these calculations, there should be sufficient data for you to analyse in regards to the universal expansion equation given your current point in time-space.

Kruger.

My smith.

I am coming for her.

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PostPosted: Mon Sep 08, 2014 11:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ordinary Human

Today I felt a switch in my veins
Today I felt a switch in my veins
Used to be a shadow
Now the shadows scream my name
And in the daylight I could swear
We're the same

But I'm just an ordinary human
(Ordinary ways)
I'm just an ordinary human
But I don't feel so ordinary today
~ One Republic




Realization hit Kruger as he stood watching the tunnel forming, there was something more he could see. A place where the rules weren’t the same, where all the knowledge he’d earned was cast to the wind. He’d shut down the project, the new clone of This One watching him silently. He hadn’t bothered to name her, not this time. He still blamed himself for the destruction of the two previous ones she’d given him. His mind raced with possibilities that hadn’t been considered before. Who would understand them though? He could think of a few that might here in RhyDin, but to give them the knowledge was to reveal his experiments. “Bring me the journal.”

The clone slipped away, it took only minutes for her to return but Kruger had wandered universes away. His mind had at least, when the clone handed him the book, he practically jumped out of his skin. “Leave me, check the joints at junction 42. I think you’ll find answers there.” A strange vibration had worked its way into some the crystalline conduits. It hadn’t seemed to affect the tunnel, but the potential was there for it to ruin everything.

Nib went to parchment and Kruger began to write in the journal which was poised on his lap as he sat atop the anvil. The scritch of the pen across the paper was the only sound he could hear. The words on the page started slowly, as he tried to wrap his head around every thought he could.

I’ve encountered something. It’s forced me to reevaluate what I know and what is possible. There seems to be a two dimensional barrier at the beginning of our universe. I’ve been looking for ways to get through it. Every so often I am able to see, there is a point where the jet from the forge finds a space that allows a brief glimpse of what is beyond. Is it possible that the explosion which created everything is simply an echo of an event that occurred in a different universe?

If so, does that place still exist? Can I get there and once I do will I be able to get back? Can I duplicate the process? I think I can more than that I believe I can do it at will. Time will tell, I am working on the dynamics even now. The pathway can be achieved, but how do I combat the spaghettification effect? I’m just an ordinary person, but there must be a way. This wouldn’t be like entering from the other direction would it? Does the effect change because I am pushing from the other side? Once through can I gain enough momentum to escape the innermost stable circular orbit? There must be a way.

I’ve isolated one point which I believe to be weaker than the rest. It moves as all things move in this universe, though it is stuck in the event horizon. It fluctuates at a constant rate, this is why sometimes I am able to see and others I am not. If I can find the curve limit then it theoretically it is possible to stay in constant tune with the source. I’ve been able to isolate it a number of times, then it oscillates and I lose it. It is constant but only sometime. I could identify what I am calling the Quasi-Periodic Oscillation, by using the power spectrum of the time series. This will take some time I believe as it means opening up and observing over a length of time. Wait… source oscillation… The vibrations in the crystalline conduits… I need to run, One. I think I have found a structural issue.


The pen was closed into the journal at the page Kruger had been writing on. It was left atop the anvil, not forgotten, rather it was left in a place of honor. It was left in a place that he would come back to. If sound carried through the pages the shouts of Kruger would be heard as he tried to stop the clone before she made her repairs.


Image Credit: 4D Black Hole, Before The Big Bang, and Speed Coverage, QPO.
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PostPosted: Sun Jan 11, 2015 7:03 pm    Post subject: Quantum Entanglement Reply with quote

Can You Feel The love Tonight?

Can you feel the love tonight
It is where we are
It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer
~ Elton John

The journal had been empty of her for too long. He hadn't given up hope yet though. He sat, pen poised looking for the first words that would begin a torrent of thoughts that Kruger knew he'd be hard pressed to control. He began anyway, against his better judgement. It was just like him to jump in with both feet and no looking for safer ways to do things.

The issue is correcting itself, there is a gelatinous membrane growing over the conduits, it cushions their vibrations preventing the cracking that has been happening far too often. It is contained beneath a synthetic skin that, at least to my hand, feels so much like touching your face. Perhaps in a way I am doing just that, touching you with every piece I create, and lifting my voice to you. I sometimes feel you, or believe that I do in small moments when there is nothing to distract my mind. Are we that entangled One? Is it wrong that I wish we were?

The information travels swiftly to you doesn't it? I'm not fool enough to believe that you aren't with me sometimes. Your awareness contained within the clone of you. The things she says while acting erratically can only be attributed to your presence within. You know I am ready on my end to make the bridge and breach the quantum barrier. I await you, always I am waiting now. You aren't gone or I would be alone. That part of you that is the clone would cease even as the last one had done. You stay away though. You are afraid perhaps? Afraid that you are too close to me, and that you will get lost in what could be on a smaller scale than your current endeavors.

It's not right, I would never hold you back. I would support you, press you ever forward and let myself diminish into your shadow. Could it be that you don't know how to make me do so? You haven't been alone at night. I'm no fool, but I have never restricted that either. I simply need you to be all that you can be, I only want to help you to be it.

That's not entirely true, I do want you, here with me in the darkness and silence. I want to fill that silence with hot breath and unrestrained voicings. You have left me to myself for too long, and I need you... I need you.




Image Credit: Quantum Entanglement
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