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Lord Crepe writes Stuff; I'm regretting this already
Topic Started: Nov 16 2010, 08:31 PM (147 Views)
Lord Crepe
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Ain't I a cool cat?
Well, it tickled my fancy to write something. This is the beginning of a story I may or may not continue depending of " critical feedback" (yeah...) and/or if I feel like it. Since there sadly aren't many people around this forum at the moment my shame won't be too bad if it's not good :P . If I ever feel like trying more stuff I'll post it here as well.

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Day 1

Il nome suo nessun sapra!
e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!



Randall barely gave a second glance at the painted wall, already annoyed at the turn things were taking. Obvious punishment it seemed.

As always, his Supervisor was there, fiddling in his little gray suit, the very image of unobtrusive efficacity, forever hopeful to remain invisible to everything but the superiors obsequious praise. Sad man, that his unique "features" made it impossible. Sweet fate's revenge.

"So?" asked Randall gesturing towards the bluish lettering on greying beige background. " It's some foreign language, probably one of the forgotten ones. It's got nice technique and calligraphy for graffiti standards but otherwise there's nothing that special about it. Wait...I remember now, it says something like No one will know his name and we must, alas, die. I think it's part of some Opera, just have the people at HQ check it and they'll have the specifics. The question is, why am I here?"

The supervisor made a show of checking his portable machine, in this day and age he was one of the few people in the agency, perhaps maybe the world actually, to trust in computers to do the work. It was rumored in the agency's endless hallways that it was his absolute faith in the system and the hierarchy that kept the machine from going berserk on him. As likely an explanation as any. It certainly wasn't his bravery or his capacity original thinking.

"Ah...yes of course. Well, according to the reports I've got from our superiors at the Reuleux..."

Such deference in his voice, ugh.

"...the text on this wall keeps changing every day. I sent low level operatives to check on the phenomenon and as per the usual checks it seems worthy of further investigation by a level 5 or higher skeptic as the standard corrective measure have proven ineffective so far. Desintox, phasing, even an exorcism was attempted to no avail. This will require the establishment of a chain of causality of the third degree at least, a high level operative on the ground , see?"

He felt intrigued in spite of himself, an inanimate object that flat out resisted a phasing out was a rarity in itself, that they had felt the need to perform an exorcism, a completely discredited procedure by now, demon possessions having been determined to be acts of termites most of the time, was a testament of how desperate and out of ideas they were.

"Did you check if it just was the work of some local "street artist" punk? Maybe it resists correction because it doesn't need correcting, did your people think about that?"

The light in the room blinked and settled on a reddish hue. The Supervisor was irritated.

" Of course we checked, 24 hours watches, cameras, imposed curfews of the populace, the works. This is real."

" Alright, fine. Let's assume it is real, there's a wall in the train station with graffiti writing that miraculously shifts every day. What harm does this do anyone? Does this really warrant me to be here? Does it put up obscenities on occasion? "

Out of the blue he heartily kicked the elephant in the room. "Is this punishment for the teapot incident?"

The Supervisor now flickered, as he did when he was nervous, and nothing made him more nervous than the justice and all-knowingness of the system being questioned. Perhaps it was understandable when anyone could come and crush your head with his bare hands but Randall didn't feel like sympathizing at the moment.

" No..bztt...no, in spite of your mishandling of that scenario the council is...bzt...understanding and is aware that it was unlikely that anyone would handle..bztt..the situation differently. There are additional factors..bzt..factors that make this scenario important that I would explain if you let me."

Everything was a "scenario" with the agency, never a "case". If it was a scenario it could be contended nothing really happened if anything went wrong, it was just a thought exercise, make believe. Every case solved wasn't a case solved either, it was just a step forward towards the way things had always been. After all, is there any reason to praise any single individual if the sun comes up everyday? If gravity keeps things, except teapots apparently, somewhat glued to the floor? No, right? It was hard to feel any sense of accomplishment from this line of work.

"Alright, go ahead"

The lights stabilized again, the room was enveloped in a bright functional white glow as The Supervisor recovered his bearings.

" Well, for starters, the message changes daily unless someone or any form of recording equipment  is looking, in that case it stays the same until the very exact moment there's no one looking"

"Ah"

" And as far as we can verify it, it seems no one stops at this station, no one at all. Our operatives were apparently the first visitors in quite a long but undetermined period of time according to the locals records "

" Long but undetermined?"

Some more showy punching keys in the portable contraption.

" Yes, something about their records having problems when it comes to measuring time spans, you'll have to investigate this as well, reports are vague and deep-strata interrogation of the field operatives has yielded no clear information on this point."

"Hrmph"

The Supervisor was literally beaming.

"I hope you do realize the importance of this scenario now, the similitude, though sketchy, is intriguing, wouldn't you say."

" The envelope."

It was always about the damn envelope.

" When do I leave, then?"

" What about right away operative? Good Luck."

The lights went out.

And at that very moment, when there was nothing to see anywhere, everything was alright with the world.


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Liveman Ieb
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Something bad happened in Paxia? I did it.
Hmm. Well, I wouldn't mind reading more of this. Certainly has a certain level of "huh. I wonder what this is all about, gotta read more to figure it out".

The part with the communication going "bzzt" might have been okay just with a mention that the link wasn't stable and had trouble getting through, since it'd read better. In my opinion, anyway.

Overall, decent read. Might do with a bit of polishing, but I don't really know how much you write outside of RP's so in case this is one of your first works on that sector, it was okay.
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Goro was admitted to the hospital after the incident, and was pronounced paralyzed from the neck down. In 2016, he was outfitted with a prototype robotic replacement body. He quickly conquered the world through superior firepower.

All hail our robotic overlord, King of the World, Gorobei.
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Lord Crepe
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Ain't I a cool cat?
Thanks bro. In fact that was absolutely horrible but I assume words failed you since to properly describe it since the PG-13 bar limits your vocabulary.

Anyway, it was enough of an encouragement to write chapter 2.

Things to keep in mind: I usually don't write, at most I bounce back and forth setups with a friend of mine who's an artist in the hopes he might draw something approaching what I imagine, so you could say it's my first time.

I was going to reread it and polish it but it's one of those things that just fell victim to my short attention span. I was meaning to imply the supervisor had a light head for a bulb therefore the bzzt thing. Didn't really find a subtle way to work with that so I left it for that reworking that never came. I might drop that and go for a grotesque gramophone thing jutting out of the ceiling. Anyway if I write more of this I'll rewrite part 1 at the same time too. Stay tuned.
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