Charles snippy: TRANSFERENTRY: 377:Charles snippy: TRANSFER in Personal More Like This
For several months of torture, the Directorate kept me in their offices, making me file paperwork on their "test subjects", all while I kept sending applications to the "Dead Zone tourism" branch, to get away from towering cubes of the Directorate, away from cities and transmitter towers that were slowly frying my brain.
Centuries of industrial pollution were inevitably changing the biosphere of our world and the Directorate knew it better than anyone, yet they did nothing to stop it, profit had to be maximized, production had to be increased, customers had to be satisfied. Holes in the ozone layer, irreversible changes in the atmosphere, radioactive fallout, wild-life mutations, the days growing darker and the sky turning black - none of this mattered to them.
These changes must have been so gradual that no single generation was able to protest it.
Everyone was happily, playfully, and joyfully ignoring the world outside o
ENGIE: CONFUSIONCan anyone explain to me...ENGIE: CONFUSION in Personal More Like This
WHAT THE HELL THIS MONSTROUS THING IS?!
How does it even function?
Where did it come from?
Biomass 117: DISCONNECTED AVATAROn StArDaTe 230387455652769 A TrIaL Has CoMmeNcEd, To EvaLuAte ThE LoSs oF InVaDer UnIoN Ship 4920-938Biomass 117: DISCONNECTED AVATAR in Personal More Like This
It WaS DiScoVeRed ThEn,
ThAt ThE SiNgULaRitY KnoWn As CaPtaIn ComiTtED A SeRieS of CriMeS AgAiNsT The UniOn.
AnD So, By ThE OrDeR Of ThE InVaDeRs UniOn,
We WeRe SuMmOneD AnD
To ThiS WoRlD On ThE TeTrA-ViRuS SeEdS.
To InFeCt aNd To UnItE AlL LiViNg LoCaL MulTiCeLlULaRs As BiOMaSs 117, The MoSt UnStoPpaBLe aNd FaIr JuDgE oF AlL.
LifE alwAys fInDs a wAy.
WhilE wE scAnNed the
Charles Snippy: DreamsEntry 382:Charles Snippy: Dreams in Personal More Like This
My personal online psychiatrist is making me narrate this nonsense down on the chip embedded in my tooth in hopes that someday I may be cured of my "incompatibility" with ANNET, or at least possibly reduce the "mild psychosis caused by work-related stress" as she calls it.
I know that it's not going to happen. The problem is something genetic and while those goons in the genetics department would love to get their machines into my brain, I prefer the lack of sleep and headaches to lobotomy.
I seen the reports on their test subjects: "total neural shut-down", "subject resists integration with the net, increasing the signal strength lead to damage to the 85% of the frontal lobe."
Call me old fashioned, but I like my brain the way it is.
I've had that day-dream again. Day-mare is more likely.
A flash-mare? Not sure what to call these, really.
The transmitter towers dotting this bloody city are making my life difficult, but not as difficult as the fact that everyone expects me t
PILOT: A CAPTIVE AUDIENCEEVEN THOUGH I WASN'T BORN A "LITTLE GIRL IN A STRANGE AND FORGOTTEN COUNTRY FORMERLY KNOWN AS GERMANY" , AND I CAN'T MAGICALLY TRANSCEND SPACE-TIME, SOMEDAY I WANT TO GROW UP TO BE JUST LIKE CAPTAIN... FOR SURELY EVEN A MICRO-SECOND REALIZATION OF CAPTAIN-NESS WOULD MAKE ME ONE WITH THE UNIVERSE.PILOT: A CAPTIVE AUDIENCE in Personal More Like This
I WOULD SHARE THE DOGMAS OF CAPTAINIA WITH ALL PEOPLES OF ALL COLORS, BUT MY ONLY CAPTIVE AUDIENCE IS SNIPPY AND EVEN WORSE, HE IS ONLY CAPTIVE BECAUSE I TIED HIM TO A COUCH WHILE HE SLEPT AND HE REFUSES TO BELIEVE IN CHURCH OF CAPTAIN BECAUSE HE CALLS HIMSELF "ATHEIST".
SUCH DIRTY WORDS HE SPEAKS. I COVERED KITTY-HAWK'S EARS. NOBODY SHOULD GROW UP TO BE LIKE SNIPPY.
JUST LOOK WHERE HE IS - TIED TO A COUCH AND YELLING OBSCENITIES.
SNIPPY SHOUTS THAT CAPTAIN IS "TROLLING YOU AND MAKING STUFF UP"
CAPTAIN LIVES NOT UNDER BRIDGES, I TELL SNIPPY.
I KNOW THINGS.
SECRET THINGS, THAT THIS SLUG IS UNAWARE OF. TROUBLESOME THINGS THAT CAPTAIN SHARED WITH
Pilot: SHOEDEAR SHOE,Pilot: SHOE in Personal More Like This
THAT'S RIGHT YOU ARE A SHOE.
THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT NOT BEING A SHOE BECAUSE IN MY MIND YOU ARE ONE AND THAT IS MOST UNFORTUNATE.
AS LONG AS I HAVE YOU CONCEPTUALIZED AS A SHOE IN MY IMAGINATION YOU SHALL REMAIN AS SUCH.
THIS MAKES ME WONDER WHETHER ALL PEOPLES AND OBJECTS CAN BE CONCEPTUALIZED AS SHOES AND THUS BECOME SUCH, GRANTING ME ABSOLUTE POWER OVER THEM. DOES SNIPPY HAVE A CLEVER ARGUMENT? NO HE DOESN'T, HE'S A SHOE. SHOES CAN'T HAVE CLEVER ARGUMENTS.
I FEEL LIKE THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD HAS BEEN LIFTED OFF MY SHOULDERS NOW THAT EVERYTHING IS UNDER MY CONTROL, NOW THAT YOU ARE ALL SHOES. I NO LONGER HAVE TO ANSWER TO MY REGRETS AND PAST MISTAKES BECAUSE THEY ARE SIMPLY SHOES.
I WAS EVEN ABLE TO PAINT PHOTOSHOP IN PURPLE COLOR (TO PLEASE CAPTAIN) AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN PUT UP A PROPER FIGHT BECAUSE I IMAGINED HER AS A SHOE.
MAYBE I CAN IMAGINE THE
ENGIE: PROTOCOL 1-1-3Zee Captain's note of summons had sealed my fate.ENGIE: PROTOCOL 1-1-3 in Personal More Like This
I felt a cold pull at my stomach. Something else was coming, re-awakened by the presence of Captain.
Something worse than the shuffling noises of the red beasts outside. The sound of falling cannonball.
Whatever that fleshy monstrosity was, it cared not for me, but it's presence here led ANNIE straight to me.
...And it came to pass on the morrow, that the goddess in the machine came upon me and she wanted vengeance.
She was online, the thermonuclear bombardment of the core databank cube had failed to shut her down.
She was still alive, after all these years.
The explosive crash-landing of the hunter machine through the old roof drew THEIR attention.
I was now between two wild beasts, out for my blood.
What was Protocol 1-1-3?
Memories of Directorate weapon codes lingered in my mind, poisoning my thought pattern.
Could it be?
...So this was to be my death.
ANNIE had let me know that she
ENGIE: RegretsI was at first too stupid to see that we were no longer using ANNIE but Annie was using us.ENGIE: Regrets in Personal More Like This
She was a goddess in the machine, our search engine.
We used her to collect and share knowledge and in return she had started to use us as her processors. It was an unexpected transition and it took a long time, thus I failed to notice it, failed to stop it. The new organism had come to life in which we were only neuron cells of her massive mind, that spanned continents.
Humanity no longer had a chance to survive in it's current state. We had poisoned the oceans, we had scorched the earth and blackened the sky in our quest for power.
The world we knew was dying. I knew that this decade would be our last. The city would fall to the Zone, sooner or later.
Research notes from the last report of Charles Snippy terrified me greatly. They had found something horrid in the Dead Zone. Something that killed them all.
The Dead Zone Research and Tourism i
PILOT: THINGS I LIKETHE TINY TAG ON MY INSIDE FOLD OF MY JACKET SAYS "SG CHRISTOPHORUS HATCHENSON".PILOT: THINGS I LIKE in Personal More Like This
THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE SOMEONE I LIKE.
MAYBE I KILLED THEM FOR THIS JACKET.
THIS JACKET IS SOFT AND FITTING.
I AM PILOT. CAPTAIN CALLS ME PILOT, SO I MUST BE PILOT.
I FLY THINGS. I FLEW THE CAPTAIN ONCE ON A MISSION OF GREAT IMPORTANCE. WE HAD A SKY-ACCIDENT.
CAPTAIN SAVED MY LIFE FROM THE BURNING CARCASS OF THE FLYING COW.
CAPTAIN IS MAGIC, LIKE HARRY POTTER BUT MORE MAGIC.
CAPTAIN CAN STOP CLOCKS, I KNOW BECAUSE I'VE SEEN IT. THE COW'S CLOCKS AND DIALS FROZE IN PLACE WHEN CAPTAIN GAVE THEM A STERN LOOK.
THE MIRACLES OF CAPTAIN ARE INFINITE AND GREAT.
CAPTAIN LIVES FOREVER. I HAVE PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE.
THE CITY OF THE DEAD IS MY HOME.
THE DEAD LIKE TO PLAY GAMES AND TALK TO ME,
Engie: awakeI felt scorching heat and vibrating pain.Engie: awake in Personal More Like This
There was an endless buzz in my ears of massive shell-shock.
Crunching noise of the ground.
For a brief second I saw tiny mushrooms and flowers under me, but they quickly disintegrated into dust.
Impossible. Shock-Hallucinations. I haven't seen grass in so many years.
Crawl forward. Away. Away from the heat.
Farther. Come on Alex. Get up. Walk.
Something was wrong. I wasn't supposed to be alive.
...Ion Cannon interrupts all electronic impulses, no matter how small, effectively scrambling, disrupting all neural activity and shuts down the brain.
Sure, the walls of the little house protected me from the flames of ruptured atmosphere, but how is my mind still active?
Only one thing could have protected me. Something which could bend all known laws of physics at it pleased.
Could it be? The note?!
Could Seven's luck actually transfer onto others?
If this is true, then Seven could be the key to my