Dear Mr. Flaherty,
It has recently come to my attention that evil wizards continue to roam the countryside. I understand your position as a conservative Member of Parliament, in having to determine good witches from bad witches and whatnot, but when I must exercise such care in the purchase of laptop computing devices, I know that my government is not working for me effectively. Please rectify
this serious problem.
Sincerely,
Robert Clark
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Memetic Virus
People start writing the gibberish I usually write (take a picture of it) whenever they're not actively thinking about not doing it, and they have a means to. They feel compelled to do it, as if it were relieving them of some level of stress, just in the action. Viewing said writings, or hearing them spoken carry a chance of spreading the virus to others.
Progression of the virus. This is how something will come of it. Perhaps introduce a TF element into the memetic virus, so that over time, they start shifting into something else.
How would this be solved by mortal man? Possibilities include burning the documents. Or perhaps having a slightly more advanced staged person tell them what's written. You will have to provide a translation, so that people know what's being written. Once this is done, perhaps there is a simple ritual that can be done. Especially effective if done by non-mages. benefit to that is that a non-mage is coming up with a magical solution. Problem is that this solution may be too easy.
On a side note, perhaps a TP link could be set up with one of the victims, then relay the informations. Of course, that would spread the virus all the quicker and worse. Again though, handing away the solution is a bad thing. Perhaps embed it as a riddle. Or seeming like a riddle. Maybe they will need some sort of countermeme. LOLcats. The salvation of the multiverse will clearly depend on LOLcats. Or the ability to distract these people in general.
What would they shift into? This thing is definitely either some sort of weapon, or an attempt of some sort to salvage an alien civilization/species/whathaveyou.
If it's the former, you'd want to go for something incapacitating. Perhaps inflict a debilitating OCD or more writing as time goes on. Or perhaps they transition into writing out the entire works of the species just to keep them going. If the latter, then there should be personality shifts over time. Have cultural stuff change, give them new infoes, or a change in what they view to be right or wrong, or make them focus on other things in life. Try to make them seem alien, without being shock characters. Pendra's a good upper limit for shock-value. A notch or two lower than her. She's a good example of alien though. Maybe not so much lower, as a lateral shift to being 'alien' in a different way. Have them lose their English as time goes on.
You should write out a very long script of what they're writing. have there be a preset number of times they write it out before they reach each stage, perhaps? Of course, having someone in a more advanced stage read it out to them is just going to run the risk of spreading the virus, and advancing it within themselves.
Progression of the virus. This is how something will come of it. Perhaps introduce a TF element into the memetic virus, so that over time, they start shifting into something else.
How would this be solved by mortal man? Possibilities include burning the documents. Or perhaps having a slightly more advanced staged person tell them what's written. You will have to provide a translation, so that people know what's being written. Once this is done, perhaps there is a simple ritual that can be done. Especially effective if done by non-mages. benefit to that is that a non-mage is coming up with a magical solution. Problem is that this solution may be too easy.
On a side note, perhaps a TP link could be set up with one of the victims, then relay the informations. Of course, that would spread the virus all the quicker and worse. Again though, handing away the solution is a bad thing. Perhaps embed it as a riddle. Or seeming like a riddle. Maybe they will need some sort of countermeme. LOLcats. The salvation of the multiverse will clearly depend on LOLcats. Or the ability to distract these people in general.
What would they shift into? This thing is definitely either some sort of weapon, or an attempt of some sort to salvage an alien civilization/species/whathaveyou.
If it's the former, you'd want to go for something incapacitating. Perhaps inflict a debilitating OCD or more writing as time goes on. Or perhaps they transition into writing out the entire works of the species just to keep them going. If the latter, then there should be personality shifts over time. Have cultural stuff change, give them new infoes, or a change in what they view to be right or wrong, or make them focus on other things in life. Try to make them seem alien, without being shock characters. Pendra's a good upper limit for shock-value. A notch or two lower than her. She's a good example of alien though. Maybe not so much lower, as a lateral shift to being 'alien' in a different way. Have them lose their English as time goes on.
You should write out a very long script of what they're writing. have there be a preset number of times they write it out before they reach each stage, perhaps? Of course, having someone in a more advanced stage read it out to them is just going to run the risk of spreading the virus, and advancing it within themselves.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Random Thing I Wrote
Allison Morgan, a trim girl with fair features was the star pupil of Alexander Bell middle school in Jackson, Ohio. The son of a Mormon father and a somewhat agnostic mother, she saw much of the Mormon culture. Her father, Henry, came from a fairly religious family. One that largely saw her mother, Charlotte (neé Reimer as a negative influence on Allison. It wasn't really a fair statement either. For some reason, the family had gotten the impression somewhere along the line that Charlotte was one of those militant atheists. A woman that would have no to-do with God, when really the case was that she just didn't give a shit. Whatever the reason, it left poor Charlotte with dirty looks and gossip spread behind her back, about where she came from.
Funnily enough, that was from a Presbyterian background. Her grandfather, a Presbyterian minister that to this day at the ripe old age of seventy-eight preaches the good word to his flock that has grown smaller in recent years. A decent man, though with a whiplike temper when provoked, George Rogers, Charlotte's maternal grandfather, greatly disapproved of Charlotte having, what he feels, slipped through the cracks. Charlotte faces this disapproval from her grandfather and grandmother without even having her mother anymore to shelter her as she might have.
Her mother, Rachel, had passed away when birthing her youngest brother, Jacob, fourteen years Charlotte's junior. What's more, Jacob was not even the youngest of the bunch, his father Trevor having remarried a few years after Rachel's early death. Alexis Farrow was only four years older than Charlotte, and she never warmed to her at all. It wasn't by any fault of Alexis' either, having never tried to be anything but a friend to Charlotte, but unfortunately they never really got on. Or more to say that Charlotte never got on with Alexis.
It was never that Charlotte would treat her badly. She just wanted nothing to do with the woman. She was glad her Dad was happy, sure. It's not that she wanted him to be unhappy, or for them to break up... It's just... She didn't want Alexis to be there. Being her stepmother. Having taken that place. That was all. But there wasn't much to be done, and in her mind, the ship hand long since sailed on making amends with the woman and making friends. Not much to be done about it really.
Funnily enough, that was from a Presbyterian background. Her grandfather, a Presbyterian minister that to this day at the ripe old age of seventy-eight preaches the good word to his flock that has grown smaller in recent years. A decent man, though with a whiplike temper when provoked, George Rogers, Charlotte's maternal grandfather, greatly disapproved of Charlotte having, what he feels, slipped through the cracks. Charlotte faces this disapproval from her grandfather and grandmother without even having her mother anymore to shelter her as she might have.
Her mother, Rachel, had passed away when birthing her youngest brother, Jacob, fourteen years Charlotte's junior. What's more, Jacob was not even the youngest of the bunch, his father Trevor having remarried a few years after Rachel's early death. Alexis Farrow was only four years older than Charlotte, and she never warmed to her at all. It wasn't by any fault of Alexis' either, having never tried to be anything but a friend to Charlotte, but unfortunately they never really got on. Or more to say that Charlotte never got on with Alexis.
It was never that Charlotte would treat her badly. She just wanted nothing to do with the woman. She was glad her Dad was happy, sure. It's not that she wanted him to be unhappy, or for them to break up... It's just... She didn't want Alexis to be there. Being her stepmother. Having taken that place. That was all. But there wasn't much to be done, and in her mind, the ship hand long since sailed on making amends with the woman and making friends. Not much to be done about it really.
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