A
Newcomer
PL: 3,500
Overdrive(x3)
Zeni: 3,937
Tag: @a
OOC Name: Letrune
Posts: 34
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Post by A on Feb 19, 2016 17:27:57 GMT
The radar dishes on the ancient, dead world looked over the domain it held. The resource collectors dug the planets and asteroids, slowly turning them into pure dirt and water and given them towards the farming machines. The sentients on three planets had been going on as intended. One tried on a small race to make a rebellion, but A noticed that it was about punching walls and making pushups. Maybe poisoning the water supply will deter it and the followers, but perhaps reducing the food supply will do. A small ship was aimed towards a new planet, the satellite dropping and coming online just then.
The sentients on this planet had been training themselves as well. Interesting pattern, but nothing new. It seems there are only a few selected individuals with the power in them to reach levels of a war machine. Most of these went to try and become overlords of the patches of dirt. They seemed to be short-sighted - only their lifetime counts, and nothing else, they extort resources from the weaker kin, until there is nothing else to acquire - then they go on a murder spree, until either someone kills them, they die of starvation or dehydration, or someone cuts their throats in their sleep. Typical pattern for the universe?
The more advanced inner part of the universe seemed to follow a similar pattern. Science got stuck due to it not being able to keep the pace with the warriors. They seemed to struggle with going onwards. The trade routes gone well, for A's point of view. The shares came in. The computers processed and A could get amounts of raw materials from every civilized race via proxies and silent partners.
The sight turned inwards. The machines still gone on. The assembly lines churned out new and better robots. The minds came up with better countermeasures against the overpowered warriors. The subjugated brains still screamed on their shelves, and they were connected just for long enough to make them think up their countermeasures. Two was considered useless, and were disposed of. Time to plan forward. No new planets being useful yet. The asteroids will provide enough. The amount of zeni on the account will make sure that anyone, except the occasional nutcase will go away and try to get the most of the money in shape of shares and bonds.
The ki-absorbing shield generator was a success so far but it's sheer size and energy comsuption made it nigh-useless to A. Until the plans are done to minimize the energy needed, it is postponed. The lobotomization technology got two seconds faster in the last decade. Hopefully it can improve with the new set of drill technology.
All right with this part of the universe, where order and law prevails.
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Mayze
Moderator
PL: 250,469
Super Saiyan(x12) MSSJ(x15)
Zeni: 849
Shoki: 2,965
Tag: @gagelange10
OOC Name: Gage
Posts: 1,232
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Post by Mayze on Feb 26, 2016 14:54:13 GMT
Neat solo, 347 zeni earned!
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A
Newcomer
PL: 3,500
Overdrive(x3)
Zeni: 3,937
Tag: @a
OOC Name: Letrune
Posts: 34
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Post by A on Mar 23, 2016 8:14:13 GMT
Happens in a small, nameless planet in A's domain.
The High Priestess cared for her subjects well. She had built one urban center where once the tribe of the blue-skinned, lean race lived. The High Priestess' monolithic pyramid, made from sleek steel and decorated later with gold, had been dropped on the planet two hundred years ago and since that, the race had became well fed and kept. The High Priestess only asked them to keep the laws and pray for her each day in a booth and all the free time is theirs.
Blag thought of himself as a warrior. Since the year of four, he trained himself. His grandfather told him of his own grandfather, whom had to hunt wild beasts and use ancient ki techniques to chase them. Since the pyramid appeared, they had not. Machines came - they given food for good behaviour, for praying, for being creative, for good questions... Machines brought them to life and machines buried them. While his grandfather had no issue with it, Blag did. He wanted to get rid of them and Her.
He was fourteen when he felt strong enough to take on the monolith. He gone to the main square of the city of machine, and with all his power, fired a shot on the building. A long, dissonant sound risen from it, like war horns from beyond the stars, then nothing. Not even a scorch mark was left on the sleek steel. What are you doing, child? - asked the megaphones with a sweet, young female voice. - Is this your contribution, or you just came to sterilize the plates? Blag stood and shouted obscenities from his fresh vocabulary. The main bulk was this: "This is our land! Go away and let us live like we deserve, by a warrior's might!" A moment passed and the High Priestess said: All right. Leave the town. You can take anyone you want with yourself. Nothing will stop you. We may even give you a good place to start again. All I ask from you is to leave this city, and all what my light touches, in peace. You may come back when you grew up, my son. He shouted back that he is not her son, to which no reply came... He left the square, to collect his people whom he will make into warriors.
The fifty or so people left that day, Blag being the strongest, thus the leader of the new tribe. He wanted to make them all into warriors, but first they got to live like one! Training all day and walking towards the land he chose.
Ten hours later the tribe was tired. Blag did not wanted to confess but his sides were in pain too. The road ended, no machines were to be seen, but the hungry and sore tribe was in a panic - how to get food? Where to sleep at night? "We sleep in the open! We eat what we find on the trees!" Blag said and the tribe gone to try and collect... Leaves and grass, twigs and peebles. The beds they got used to in the warm rooms were exchanged to the damp, cold dirt. The first hunt was not easy - Blag could shot animals down with ki beams but the hits made the wild game overcooked or broken too much. Their jumpsuits got torn by the wild and the weaker wills longed back to the city... But on they marched. In a hillside, they settled down. The cave near was given to Blag by himself, as the leader of the tribe. He was the strongest, and he needed a rest.
He woke up and demanded food from the wall, before remembering that he doesn't have a machine to serve him out. For the better, he added. It was messing up his knowledge. His tribe was hungry, and they tried to hunt and gather food. Same as before, they were too hungry to care what they find. Fortunately, it seemed there isn't anything poisonous for them. After the collective breakfast, Blag shouted on all the people. "Get up! We'll train." "Why we need to?" "Can't we rest a bit more?" "Nobody said we got to train too." "I thought this is a vacation?" "Can't we eat something first?" Blag grabbed the most whining woman and threw her under a rock, ignoring that she was merely a teenager. Her spine broke and she screamed in pain before he broke his neck. "These alien machines made all you weak! But we will do better! We will be strong and take back our planet! We will all live in palaces instead of those small homes on those blocks they built to us! We will rule the world!" He went and buried the body, then came back and ordered them again to train. There were barely a single reply. Nobody was enthusiastic, but Blag forced them to train until noon came. He then sent some to gather more fruit and berries. After the tribe eaten, Blag commanded them to train more, but Ulk, a woman, raised her hand. "Won't we need some huts or some other shelter from the elements?" "What?" Blag asked back and walked to her. "Rain and wind and others I mean. It won't shine every day." Ulk pointed on it. Blag nodded. "Clever. Everyone, make huts!" "...From what?" "How would I know? Make those huts from wood and stone and dirt!" There weren't a single architect among them and it shown - every single hut was a hole in the ground, with random stones and leaved branches on top. Ulk started to make hatchets for them, but Blag laughed her off and shown them how they can use ki-charged punches on trees. What were not burned or were broken to millions of shards were then used haphazardly.
This is how the first day ended; they did not noticed the one unmoving star above them when they all went to sleep.
Days passed. The tribe got stronger in body but it started to show a split - those whom followed Blag started to follow him unquestioning; and those who decided to join Ulk's practical, but much weaker training sessions. Blag named her to lead the gatherers, while he made the warriors from the thirty whom followed him. They trained all day and got the best part of the food (after Blag, of course). The gatherers tried to make better huts for the tribe, but they simply lacked the experience. A month passed when the first clash happened.
A warrior grabbed a gatherer and wanted to force her to be his wife. She denied to which the warrior started to punch her, breaking her bones and arms, before Blag stopped the fight. Ulk suggested to make the warriors understand that they are not any better than anyone else. Blag said that the idea is stupid. The warriors agreed, then demanded a big house for themselves, near the cave. Ulk said they first need to make some kind of farm, as they can not keep up the tribe this way... But nobody listened. The warriors felt too strong for such issues. The first month had numerous more clashes, before Blag said that he, as the king of them, make new laws - and made the gatherers create farms. His warriors cheered on "his" grand idea. Ulk disappeared two days later, and Blag just shrugged his shoulders on the issue.
The winter came, with lots and lots of rain. The houses crumbled a bit, and the warriors made the farmers work by forcing them out. Sickness came, and Blag wanted to ask Ulk why, before he remembered she was away. He forced his warriors to tend the fields, so they can eat something during the monsoon. A few days later a warrior stood before Blag and demanded: "Why we must slave like those weaklings? We are warriors! We only have to train and be strong!" "No, you have to protect us! You got to do what I say you do!" "Not any more!" he said and attacked him. Blag easily could defeat him, and to make sure he won't attack him later, he broke his arms. "Let it be a lesson to anyone. Go back and tend the fields!"
The monsoon did not ended. Most of the plants were flooded and became inedible. The sickness got worse, and Blag decided that they just raid the farms near the city. He sent his best warriors to gather as much as they can, and moved his tribe. The farms were tended by machines. They syphoned the water out, they plowed the land. The machines did not did a thing when the warriors started to take the crops and run away. Nothing happened and Blag's tribe decided that this is much easier than trying to do such stupid things... Well, the weaker ones still have to. The warriors are too important (again) to do so.
It went swimmingly, until one day, they found a short, thin line around the farms. A warrior stepped over it and was stopped midway, as there were long, thin red lines aiming on him from the rain. He tried to go towards the farm, but then a thunderstrike came from one of the lines, and he fell on the ground, electric jolts shaking him all around. He screamed, and when the other warriors gone to pull him, more red lights shone on them... Blag managed to take him out and grabbed a few crops. The lightning did not striked him. Next morning, a huge stone slab way at the path between his village and the farmlands, reading "STOP". He ignored... And the warriors whom stepped inside the wire had been hit, their bodies riddled with dozens of tiny holes. Blag returned to the village and demanded his warriors to throw pebbles on him, to make himself strong enough to withstand them, or even grab them. Their crops started to slowly get better... They could survive.
A year passed. Most of the warriors wore loincloths, and a full jumpsuit was almost unheard of. Blag decorated himself with the bones of the animals he hunted. They felt like they are strong enough to try and attack the farms again, kiblasting whatever shot them. Blag led the warriors, and as the turrets at the city started to shoot at them, he grabbed the bullets and just walked on... He could stop as much as three by himself! He felt strong and wanted to brag about it... When he noticed that all the other warriors whom followed him died. The turrets stopped shooting while he stood there, maw open... Then the megaphones started again. You want a fight, my son? - the High Priestess asked. Blag was so angry he ran towards the gate, and every turret opened fire. He ran too fast, but still got a few hits, but did not cared any more. He ran towards the pyramid. The locals ran from his way. Those whom could not step aside were punched aside, most lethally injured. Blag did not stopped thinking, he ran towards the pyramid and punched the door... that opened just before himself, and he fallen on his face. The outsiders laughed a bit on it, to which he stood up and blasted them, then ran inside. You murder your own for your pride. Amazing... Did you ever stopped caring? Had you forgotten Ulk? Blag stopped. He stood in the grand chamber, the deepest anyone could go... It was a marble-covered area, with rich architecture and huge banners of blue and gray. Booths for praying were set up in lines and rows... He started breaking the first next to him. You poor, weak child. You break everything that confuses you. Is your brain hurt? Or your heart? Your tribe outside wait you to come back... Those whom not died for your anger, that is. Blag punched a booth, and blood sprayed his arms. He stopped as the booth opened and a broken-chested person fallen out - his grandfather. Look what you done so far. Only murdered. Everyone you loved or cared for is dead now. Blag turned around, shouting for her, but it only came out as screaming. He started blasting the area... And as the marble fell down, all around him, he saw the wires and plates underneath them... And that they were not harmed. He panted as the few survivors ran out. He looked on the megaphone still attached to the wall. Poor, poor Blag. If only you'd think once... Blag felt a painful stab on top of his head and metallic claps could be heard. Something grabbed him. He broke his arms free, but a drill broke his skull by then. He tried to move his head, but then everything went dark. Look on you. Now you are so... Peaceful.
He wanted to ask, scream or just punch, but nothing happened. He had nothing... Did he died? He tried to attack, or move, but nothing happened. An eternity later, the High Priestess' voice came. You are feeling any better, my son? Free me. You are free. Free from your body. What? We lobotomized you. What? We took your brain. What? It is all right. You can still think and I can connect you in. Wish to see something? My body, my tribe, free me!!! He saw his tribe. THe warriors were doing... Things to the weaker ones. They eaten raw food and roots. They even eaten one of the weaker ones. Blag did not felt sick, because he had no body to feel sick with. Why? Because their brains degraded after losing. They are broken. Don't worry, a few days and they will all die. How? Why? What are you going to do? We cauterize them. We make them choke on their own breath. We will make the few survivors into less than what they are now. The why? Because they broke the rules we made, just like you. Now, if you don't mind, I am tired of this ten seconds. Ten seconds? How, how long is...? How old I am now? Hello? Anyone?
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Post by Beryl Roarke on Apr 4, 2016 0:29:11 GMT
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A
Newcomer
PL: 3,500
Overdrive(x3)
Zeni: 3,937
Tag: @a
OOC Name: Letrune
Posts: 34
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Post by A on May 12, 2016 6:59:13 GMT
The processes of the analgamous mind move around randomly. The thoughts come and go as the machine focuses them elsehow, until it finds something disruptive.
The universe withers and groans. It is like a rabid beast, gnashing and beating itself, running into walls and moaning in pain. The tumour is obvious. A sickness of hunger.
Being prisoners of the illusion of power.
They waste time and effort to get strong and kill whom can be stronger. Their offsprings kill them - they fear, so they only have offsprings far away. There are enemies here - they fear, so they destroy the place. They never learn any practical skills, as it makes them have less time having bigger muscles and better spells. Their tumour of a brain compells them to murder and destroy. No mind function grows high enough to understand the limits - "I can just go elsewhere", they think.
And when they ran out of places to go, they meet the foes who count and can not be killed - hunger, sickness, death. Their tumour makes it strong by giving up strategic and logistic knowledge.
Then let it so! Let you life for the day! Carpe diem! And when you breathe your last breaths, universe, we will be there to close the eyes and place the coin under your tongue!
We will ferry you to the irradiated elysium you deserve, and then blow it into oblivion!
The never sleeping machine had dreams from the brain matter. The future of a burning universe. Atomic fires, turning stars to ashes. Could be done. There are warheads for it.
...But what to gain? No answer. It seems the tumour is not just outside, but inside.
Operation is necessary. The machines go around the vats of gray matter, searching for errors. Surgical lasers and scalpels remove the cyst and the tumours, but the thoughts persist.
These overgrown infants believe they count. Their mere hundred years are vanishing into the black hole of stupid feuds. Technology stands still by their armflailing fights! Trillions of units destroyed! Merely by an idiot who can not keep the hands of it where they belong.
It seems we got an old problem. A severes connection with the jars one by one, until the distruption's source is found. C57/P639. A brain of a Magni Eris. Elsewhere, a machine starts. Sleek plates are made by a foundry, orders for hyperspace engines and cloned brain matter. A new planet for this brain to rule over, not to stop the purity of the program. The jar is moved aside, ready for delegation.
It seems we got to operate anyway.
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Post by Kizuki on Jul 2, 2016 4:32:40 GMT
+262 Zeni New Total: 3,937 Zeni Also, any other solo's you do please start a new thread. Thank ya' kindly! (Adding now.)
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