Hyperspatial Travel
28-09-2006, 10:27
OOC: Yup, completely closed. Comments would be appreciated, otherwise, don't post.
IC:
"It is.. strange. I feel as if I have lived for a hundred years, and yet, I know it has been but the blink of an eye. It is immortality.. of a sort."
The Council had met. Thousands of incorporeal minds, wispily floating to their appointed places. The Maker-Mind fought a war, rage, and insanity incinerating many of them, annoyances spelling annihilation for thousands. And yet, it was life, of a sort.
The mind that had spoken resolved into a human form, arms and legs coming into existence simply, and quickly. Sharp brown eyes, framed by rich black hair, a proud, sharp nose, and small, well-formed ears. They had once been people. For thoughts, who lived a thousand years in a second, that existence was so long ago as to have never existed.
Her name, such as it was, was Marna. It suited her, simple, and plain, a constrast to her beauty. Then again, in the Maker-Mind, it seemed, imagination was truly the only limit. Very few wished to become old, bent, weak, or ugly, thus, each form that they took sculptures in human perfection.
But it was a mind that showed beauty. That mass of energy, wispily floating away from the deadly lightning of the Maker-Mind, was the only beauty that could be seen. And the Council began to exist, bodies forming in unison, like a slow, elegant dance of creation, only the most skilled, the quietest of creators able to maintain such a body with ease.
They were the thirteen who ruled the outer reaches of the Maker-Mind, the id, if you would. Thousands participated, but only the most skilled, the most intelligent, ruled. The base, raw instincts of the subconscious that allowed them to tap the progidous energies of the Maker-Mind, the tiniest of energies used, as to escape notice from the guards of the mind it possessed.
To exist as the Maker-Mind did, was to be insane. That was undoubtable. Near-omniscience, coupled with the inability to deal with such a power, was a torrent of information that ripped apart that mind in its fury, leaving only shattered remains. But what shattered remains they were! The Council had realised this, early-on, that the shattered, broken Maker-Mind was a force that, if coherent, could easily overwhelm the empires that they knew of, with, quite literally, a thought.
Thus, their energies had been devoted to sending the Maker-Mind further into the depths of insanity, weakening it from time to time, keeping vital information from it - keeping from it the ability to cure itself. The tiniest nudge to the unbalanced mind could topple it, and the Maker-Mind was unbalanced in the extreme.
Marna stood up, a piece of nondescript concrete materialising under her as she did so. "Fellow Councillors. I come to you as the Eighth Councillor, arbiter of the disputes among the loyal, forger of the Eastwind Wall.". Air suddenly rushed into existence, soundwaves thrumming through the newly-forged chambers. It was the only taste of reality they had, the only chance they could take to resume existence, the thousand safeguards they had created allowing them this small pleasure.
"I bring grave news. An Avatar has been created. We have attempted to destroy such beings ever since we learned of them, with little success. However, our displacement of the Destroyer, the Consumer, the Ravager, and the Entropifier, the four mind-concentrations the Maker-Mind created, it has been forced to rely on the consumption of other beings to cohesify its ego for the brief seconds it is able to. However, a fifth Avatar has been created."
She took a deep breath, the sweet air rushing down into her lungs, pure joy condensed, a luxury she had not enjoyed for what seemed like millenia. "Two seconds ago, I took a brief sojourn to Inner-Mind. What I found there.. horrified me. A swarm of black, seething mind-creatures, resolving into a single form. The form was named Manifest, the name evident, even as I felt its malevolent presence."
Murmers of speech began to cloud the chamber, and, in annoyance, she sucked away air from the mouths of many, creating vacuums, their body twisted by the forces she used. Seconds later, they were repaired, and listening attentively. Even pain was a sweet sensation within the Maker-Mind, an experience, one to be savored for millenia to come.
"We cannot counter the new Avatar, it seems. The other four have decimated our ranks most grieveously, slaughtering the disincorporate minds as they fled, destroyed those who gathered. Only our hiding in our many niches have saved us from them, and the most desperate of tactics have led to brief, sweet victories."
"But no longer. Manifest is.. not a destroyer of one, as the others are. I fled, and I died, an impulse from the enemy translating to the rending of my form, atom by atom. Only the wave carried me here, reconstructing me with its brutal aid. I believe those who face it will also face death.. we must flee. This is my verdict. Flee to the corners of the Maker-Mind, flee from it, if we may, but flee we must. Until we can face the enemy, we dare not risk ourselves against it..."
The Council looked worried. A flash of black thunder tore the silence, shattering the chamber, minds made once more into mere energy matrixes, fleeing at the speed of light.
Marna chuckled, tendrils of silvery-black playing at her face, consuming it. Her voice deepened, from a silvery, light voice, to a deep, thrumming one. "INDEED. IT SEEMS I AM NOT A DESTROYER. THERE IS NO POINT IN DESTROYING AN ENEMY SO EASILY FOOLED."
With a flicker of red fire, her body was consumed, and she moved back to the centre of the Maker-Mind. Manifest had a war to conduct. And it did not need pointless interruptions...
IC:
"It is.. strange. I feel as if I have lived for a hundred years, and yet, I know it has been but the blink of an eye. It is immortality.. of a sort."
The Council had met. Thousands of incorporeal minds, wispily floating to their appointed places. The Maker-Mind fought a war, rage, and insanity incinerating many of them, annoyances spelling annihilation for thousands. And yet, it was life, of a sort.
The mind that had spoken resolved into a human form, arms and legs coming into existence simply, and quickly. Sharp brown eyes, framed by rich black hair, a proud, sharp nose, and small, well-formed ears. They had once been people. For thoughts, who lived a thousand years in a second, that existence was so long ago as to have never existed.
Her name, such as it was, was Marna. It suited her, simple, and plain, a constrast to her beauty. Then again, in the Maker-Mind, it seemed, imagination was truly the only limit. Very few wished to become old, bent, weak, or ugly, thus, each form that they took sculptures in human perfection.
But it was a mind that showed beauty. That mass of energy, wispily floating away from the deadly lightning of the Maker-Mind, was the only beauty that could be seen. And the Council began to exist, bodies forming in unison, like a slow, elegant dance of creation, only the most skilled, the quietest of creators able to maintain such a body with ease.
They were the thirteen who ruled the outer reaches of the Maker-Mind, the id, if you would. Thousands participated, but only the most skilled, the most intelligent, ruled. The base, raw instincts of the subconscious that allowed them to tap the progidous energies of the Maker-Mind, the tiniest of energies used, as to escape notice from the guards of the mind it possessed.
To exist as the Maker-Mind did, was to be insane. That was undoubtable. Near-omniscience, coupled with the inability to deal with such a power, was a torrent of information that ripped apart that mind in its fury, leaving only shattered remains. But what shattered remains they were! The Council had realised this, early-on, that the shattered, broken Maker-Mind was a force that, if coherent, could easily overwhelm the empires that they knew of, with, quite literally, a thought.
Thus, their energies had been devoted to sending the Maker-Mind further into the depths of insanity, weakening it from time to time, keeping vital information from it - keeping from it the ability to cure itself. The tiniest nudge to the unbalanced mind could topple it, and the Maker-Mind was unbalanced in the extreme.
Marna stood up, a piece of nondescript concrete materialising under her as she did so. "Fellow Councillors. I come to you as the Eighth Councillor, arbiter of the disputes among the loyal, forger of the Eastwind Wall.". Air suddenly rushed into existence, soundwaves thrumming through the newly-forged chambers. It was the only taste of reality they had, the only chance they could take to resume existence, the thousand safeguards they had created allowing them this small pleasure.
"I bring grave news. An Avatar has been created. We have attempted to destroy such beings ever since we learned of them, with little success. However, our displacement of the Destroyer, the Consumer, the Ravager, and the Entropifier, the four mind-concentrations the Maker-Mind created, it has been forced to rely on the consumption of other beings to cohesify its ego for the brief seconds it is able to. However, a fifth Avatar has been created."
She took a deep breath, the sweet air rushing down into her lungs, pure joy condensed, a luxury she had not enjoyed for what seemed like millenia. "Two seconds ago, I took a brief sojourn to Inner-Mind. What I found there.. horrified me. A swarm of black, seething mind-creatures, resolving into a single form. The form was named Manifest, the name evident, even as I felt its malevolent presence."
Murmers of speech began to cloud the chamber, and, in annoyance, she sucked away air from the mouths of many, creating vacuums, their body twisted by the forces she used. Seconds later, they were repaired, and listening attentively. Even pain was a sweet sensation within the Maker-Mind, an experience, one to be savored for millenia to come.
"We cannot counter the new Avatar, it seems. The other four have decimated our ranks most grieveously, slaughtering the disincorporate minds as they fled, destroyed those who gathered. Only our hiding in our many niches have saved us from them, and the most desperate of tactics have led to brief, sweet victories."
"But no longer. Manifest is.. not a destroyer of one, as the others are. I fled, and I died, an impulse from the enemy translating to the rending of my form, atom by atom. Only the wave carried me here, reconstructing me with its brutal aid. I believe those who face it will also face death.. we must flee. This is my verdict. Flee to the corners of the Maker-Mind, flee from it, if we may, but flee we must. Until we can face the enemy, we dare not risk ourselves against it..."
The Council looked worried. A flash of black thunder tore the silence, shattering the chamber, minds made once more into mere energy matrixes, fleeing at the speed of light.
Marna chuckled, tendrils of silvery-black playing at her face, consuming it. Her voice deepened, from a silvery, light voice, to a deep, thrumming one. "INDEED. IT SEEMS I AM NOT A DESTROYER. THERE IS NO POINT IN DESTROYING AN ENEMY SO EASILY FOOLED."
With a flicker of red fire, her body was consumed, and she moved back to the centre of the Maker-Mind. Manifest had a war to conduct. And it did not need pointless interruptions...