~Hakurei Shrine~ > Patchouli's Scarlet Library
Weekly Writing Challenge Thread 2 - The Morning After (Deadline December 31st)
Von Stein:
Fairies in Gensokyo are happy and mischievous.
Once a year they come together, and have a great time telling stories of their greatest pranks, stories of good food, and stories of legends.
This story that they hand around each other is not one of the first two, but a legend.
The story tells of happenings on a day not long after the rainy season ended. The sun was blazing down from the sky like an infernal being bringing despair to the living.
And due to the literally cold nature of spirits, the dead had their share of despair too, trying to escape being confiscated as refreshments.
But this girl, making her way through the Forest of Magic, one foot in front of the other, was not in need of refreshment, as a heavy rain was surrounding her.
She had woken up minutes ago, her grey dress soaked as always. She stood up, and began walking, where, she did not know.
She followed her feet, one step at a time, the water falling around her ceaselessly. The canopy of the forest in this area was thin, and the sun's rays gleamed through the branches, reflecting sparklingly of the water.
As she traveled the sound of the water on the leaves battered her ears. She knew that the sound caused the animals to hide from the wandering drum machine, and her shoulders drooped a bit.
After a while, the beat on the canopy disappeared, and the girl looked up. A low drumbeat of rain on the floor accompanied the vision the fairy saw before her. Grey. Grey as her dress, grey as her hair, grey as her eyes. She saw nothing but grey.
The mist this day was heavy around the very creatively named Misty Lake. Normally the lake was not covered in such a severe mist during the summer season, but the rain may have messed with the local weather a little.
The girl kept walking forward, her mouth open, as the drumming of the rain slowed down a bit. She could just barely see her feet, the mist was so thick. She stepped forward, and proceeded further into the unknown.
The drum of water on grass was soon accompanied by the drumming of water on water. She flinched as she stepped forward and heard a splash. She had reached the lake proper. She stepped back and shook her foot, when a sound caused her to flinch again.
The rain kicked it up a notch when the girl heard a surprised yelp out of the mist. She heard a voice complaining about the sudden rain, and telling the rain to go away or it would be cryofreezed with extreme prejudice.
The girl cowered, worried that the voice would freeze her, and the rain got whipped up into a veritable torrent as it came down in strings almost.
Another surprised yelp, and an angry growl later and the mist was illuminated with a blueish white light. Two girls gasped in pain, as the rain had been frozen, just not in place.
Ice fail from the sky, and the girl ran away from the hail, away from the evil freezer. Shortly thereafter water fell around her again, and the familiar sensation slowly returned to a normal rain, albeit still coming down heavily. She slowed down from her run and began her aimless wandering again.
Time had passed, and the mist and tree canopy both were gone, now replaced by the sun's merciless rays, which reflected confusedly off of the airborne water, as if wondering what the heck rain was doing getting in the sun's way.
The girl, still moving forward, saw none of this, her eyes fixed on the leaves of grass on the floor, as earthworms squirmed around in the dirt, lapping up the live giving water.
A new voice called out to her. But it wasn't entirely new. She had heard it before. She turned around, as the rain intensified again. That red-white was hanging in the air. Couldn't she even just take a walk? The red-white spoke to her, told her to take that rain elsewhere.
Thunder cracked. The red-white looked at the girl, standing her ground, as the rain grew stronger, thicker, and the sun's light began getting drowned out by the sheer wall of water.
Thunder cracked again, and the shrine maiden nodded. The girl blinked as the maiden flew away, and for a moment complete silence surrounded her.
She shook her head and resumed her endless march to the drumbeat of her rain.
She took notice again as the grass on the floor had gradually been replaced by purple flowers. She gazed around, and found herself on a hill full of those flowers. Her mouth open again, she began walking further in, as the rain reflected orange light from the dusk and turned the scene all the more magical.
The rain surrounding her had become a light drizzle, as the melancholy of the hill washed over everything.
Stepping through the flowers, a small voice could be heared, but the girl took no note of it. She stared straight forward, as the purple of the flowers raised into the air and mixed with the rain.
After a few moments, the girl fell to her knees. She breathed heavily, still staring at the spectacle of light and colors around her, as the rain gradually grew weaker, the sky burned a deep orange, and the purple mist swirled around her.
She fell forwards, into the flowers, and the eery color play was replaced by black, as the sound of a few drops of water reached her ears, and then silence.
She woke up to another voice calling her. She looked around, and saw nothing but clouds. Everything felt nebulous, only the voice being distinct. She followed it, as it called her to follow it.
She tried to make out something, anything in the surroundings but there was nothing to hold on to besides the sound of that voice. Until the owner of the voice appeared.
Red hair, white and blue dress, tall stature, and a scythe marked the owner of the voice.
The woman shook her head and smiled. She asked if it was that time of the year again. She said that the girl should be more careful. She said that as they walk a few steps alongside the bank of some river that materialzed out of the fog. She laughed, and said that they were at their destination.
Her voice rang in the girl's head as one she had heard before, many times. it gave her a bit of comfort. The woman looked down at the girl, and said goodbye. The scythe came down, and the girl keeled over forward as it hit her in the back of the head.
She looked up to see no purple flowers, but sun flowers. The drumming of the rain surrounded her, as she shook her head and got up. She had been here before, hadn't she?
The drizzle around her grew stronger as she saw another woman walking towards her, a red plaid dress, green hair, and an umbrella. In front of the now completely crimson sky she looked ready to eat her, red eyes glowing in unison with the sky and her dress.
The girl took a step back as the rain came down harder than ever before, the water falling down so fast it almost hurt.
The new woman tilted her head. She sat down on a log, and closed her umbrella, and looked up into the rain, smiling. The girl froze, her eyes growing wider than before, and the rain mellowed down. The woman looked at her and tapped her hand beside her on the log. She talked, her voice piercing through the drum beat of the rain.
"Won't you sit with me again, my dear?"
For a brief moment the rain stopped and the sunflower field was illuminated by a smile from the girl. She remembered this place again. She knew who this woman was.
She skipped to the woman, the rain now coming down in a calm, controlled drizzle, and sat down next to the youkai.
As they sat, the girl looked up. A fairy in the sky was waving some others to come over, pointing at the girl, as the air was filled with laughter.
One blue haired fairy appeared, and flew alongside the others, when suddenly a rogue lightning strike knocks her out of the air and sends her crashing to the ground. The woman ruffled the hair of the girl, both of them giggling madly.
It was good to be home again.
This legend, and all the others the fairies shared, all the stories of great pranks and better food would be shared again, right here, in the yearly gathering. It was going to be a long night.
And even our little rain fairy could once again be happy and mischievous in Gensokyo.
*Lays on the floor, battered, armor broken and pierced in many places*
It was a long battle, Iron Librarians. I've fought you long and hard, but underestimated you. And you thought you had won! You thought I was done! You watched me struggle through this last story and fail, and saw me crushed beneath the behemoth of writer's block! But I say thee: "NAY!"
I am still alive, ad as long as I will draw breath still I shall face you in this, my final stand!
*brings Heavy Bolter to bear* Not until the Emperor decides to snuff out the light of my soul to strengthen him forevermore will I let go of the trigger of His Judgement! I will die here, but I will not die alone! FOR THE EMPIRE! FOR THE EMPEROR!
*begins firing, as he collapses more into himself slowly, barely having the strength to keep his eyes open*
((Translation: And here's the fourth entry for the WWC. It came out very short, much shorter than anticipated, but nevertheless, after reading through it again... I am satisfied with it. I hope it brings enjoyment, and maybe a tear or two to some people here. I intended this to be a Slice of Life story, but I just don't think it fits as such anymore. So I shifted to a more recent topic, which I presume fits the situation too. Endings. If that doesn't ring a bell in you after reading the story, I suggest you read again with that thought in mind. ;) Anyways, thanks to the collected Scribes for making this contest and thus this story possible. See y'all when the judgements come in.))
Joveus Molai:
--- Quote from: Irmingard von Stein on July 01, 2012, 06:52:18 AM ---
*Lays on the floor, battered, armor broken and pierced in many places*
It was a long battle, Iron Librarians. I've fought you long and hard, but underestimated you. And you thought you had won! You thought I was done! You watched me struggle through this last story and fail, and saw me crushed beneath the behemoth of writer's block! But I say thee: "NAY!"
I am still alive, ad as long as I will draw breath still I shall face you in this, my final stand!
*brings Heavy Bolter to bear* Not until the Emperor decides to snuff out the light of my soul to strengthen him forevermore will I let go of the trigger of His Judgement! I will die here, but I will not die alone! FOR THE EMPIRE! FOR THE EMPEROR!
*begins firing, as he collapses more into himself slowly, barely having the strength to keep his eyes open*
--- End quote ---
Brother, even a man who has nothing can still have faith.
All hail the martyrs! On their blood is our Imperium founded, in their remembrance do we honour ourselves.
(It's not quite judgment time yet, but my heartfelt congratulations and a hearty "Great Job!" to everyone who participated. Best of luck to you all. :dragonforce:
capt. h:
Theme: SPAAAAAAAAACE
***
Space.
The final frontier.
Large beyond the comprehension of any mere mortal.
And a really nice place to put a sun.
I like the sun. It?s big a yellow, and there should be more of them. Not like that boring old moon. That?s not nearly bright enough. So I came up with this plan to make more of them. Suns that is.
Satori doesn?t like me making them in the house. Or in the underground for that matter. Something about stars should be in space.
So getting to work. The inner core?s connected to the ? radiative zone~. The radiative zone?s connected to the ? convection zone~. Course, knowing that?s not really necessary for the process. It?s good enough to simply bash lots of energy together really hard, until you get a huge sphere. Bigger the sphere, the longer the sun magic lasts, you could even get something permanent if you made it big enough.
In case you were wondering, my hobbies include creating subatomic reactions on the macro scale and on weekends I like to take a nuclear bomb to your laws of nature. Every Monday Morning is scolding time, when a couple of gods go over with the kappa how I ruined physics over the weekend and have to put it back.
I don?t see why I?m not allowed to create objects with less mass than a ping pong ball and the surface pull of Jupiter. You know what? Forget them. Sunday is me time, and I?m spending me time putting more stars in the sky orbiting a mere 50,000 miles away from earth.
FinnKaenbyou:
DEADLINE REACHED!
Girls are judging, please wait warmly.
LogosOfJ:
Theme: Post-apocalyptic soft sci-fi Touhou IN SPACE (with a side of mecha)
As this was written right before intersecting deadlines, I did not take the time to properly credit the premise, borrowed from another work of fanfiction that involved EoSD IN SPACE. Please wait warmly for the title. Inspired by Void of Fantasy - Amor Fati and Eclipse Phase.
Oh, no >< LATE
As usual, I begin this month telling a story to my rival, love interest, arms dealer, surrogate father, and teacher.
There are only two people with me. Obviously, some of these categories overlap.
I usually narrate in third person. However, I decided to hunker down and monologue in the style of ?hard-boiled investigators? of myth, legend, and poorly-stored movies.
Like many new things and stories, it all sounds better in my head.
==
Here I am, rooting through the obviously misunderstood and neglected sectors (read as everything except manual control and residential areas) of an Ares-tech battlecruiser/raider playing ?tag? with an obviously misunderstood and neglected little girl.
A little girl who loves playing with heavy weapons. Scratch that, an unhinged little girl who is very, very good with weapons that theoretically require three (ideally four) people to operate.
In fact, we never really worked out who was ?it?. She did sic the security drones on me, so I guess it might be me.
My heart breaks as I squeeze through a tangle of wires far removed from its former orderly and utilitarian glory. The engineering foundry beyond the tangle is breathtaking.
Oh, [redacted]. Things are about to get messy.
There is exactly five centimeters of cover. For the standard boarding armor, nothing at all.
?Hi! Gotcha!?
My self-declared ?playmate? at least has the courtesy of breaking radio silence before whaling on me with increasingly elaborate barrages of projectiles. Out of desperation, I expend a bomb capacitor, and feel immensely lucky when the array of spheres, ovals, and beams dissipate into rapidly-cooling plasma clouds.
However, the girl is obviously in control of the environment and hence the fight. She summons three drones that appear identical to her and sets them to imitation. The time-sync is off, treating me to an earful of creepy laughter arpeggios. Halfway before a particularly elaborate pattern, I begin to realize that this entire fight is still a game for her, right before a burst from the ceiling prompts me to dodge into her open arms.
===
At this point of my recounting, the woman in absurd ceremonial garb speaks up. How absurd? Two words: Shrine Maiden. Two more: In Space. This lovely package of public law enforcement, Bio-Techno-conservatism, human potential and old-timey charm is Reimu Hakurei. As always, she cannot tolerate ?my bullshit?.
?Yeah, yeah, Marisa. We all know how it goes. You hug her, understand her sorrow, and use the power of empathy to save the day, and more importantly, your bacon and bottom line.?
I chuckle heartily before replying, ?Oh, we?ll make a techno-optimist out of you yet, Miss Zero. Actually, I died.?
Reimu gives me a light tap on the head with her ceremonial staff in response. The other listener, a grey-haired man of indeterminate age donning Nipponese casual wear, gives me a sideways glance and shakes his head with exaggerated sadness.
(Miss Zero is more than just a play on Reimu?s name. Somehow, from the start of her career through the resolution of the most recent diplomatic incident, she has somehow managed to avoid dying. In comparison, Rinnosuke, the grey shopkeeper, dies about once every twenty years due to traffic accidents; my current average is once every two months, counting the images that get mangled, corrupted, or otherwise disfigured in attempts to avoid the Out-of-the-Box tithes.)
?No really, I died and went back in another body ad nauseum. On body three, she stopped destroying the (admittedly increasingly fragile) boarding armor. By body six, we decided to move to a residential area. There was some semblance of a normal girlhood, for example the tea party with my less-mangled corpses. On body nine, she declined danmaku ?play?, decided to cuddle, and left only a few broken ribs on an unarmored one. Oh, and she is in the process of repairing her relationship with her sister.?
After some exaggerated wincing, I hand a high-density volume to Rinnosuke.
?So, is this payment enough for outstanding tech identification and oracle box fees?? I inquire.
An affirmative grunt followed by prolonged lack of complaint is his reply. Reimu leaves, muttering something about an appointment with the Scarlets. I instead head to the airlock.
===
The residence ring shared by Rinnosuke and a few hundred other survivors looms for a few moments before shrinking rapidly. After 15 minutes, the light pollution is barely noticeable. I relax, slightly, and continue to stare blankly at the visual-range display. In scavenging and combat, most if not all of my craft?s sensing capability must be used; stargazing is purely meditative.
My mind wanders to my craft. More accurately, my mind wanders further into my craft. Images of me are dedicated to sensors, navigation, and secondary weapons. I relax and allow the backup process to commence, savoring the terrifying yet thrilling sense of disorientation. Though I might have consciously accepted that I am my ship(s), I still find myself entertaining the fancy that the moment of terror is the moment that I slip out and another me slips into my flesh and blood body.
It would be easy to create a steel replacement, provided enough time with a proper AI. Unfortunately, given the Out-of-the-Box tithe, such a plan would require renting indeterminate amounts of time on a box oracle backed with good hardware. Moreover, most enhancement would similarly invoke the Out-of-the-Box tithe. Really, the only replacement worth such a hassle would be a Spartoi body.
Xenobiological modifications are fine, as long as you do not build yourself too smart. Too smart being smarter than baseline human. Of course, 8th Cloud reserves the right to decide too smart. The tithe? All of your lives and any other traces of your existence, from notes in your desk drawer to Elohim shipyards.
This policy appears reasonable on the surface, considering Ares. Due to its incredible power, the runaway military AI of Terra managed to render said system uninhabitable. Moreover, the exploitation of XB properties led to the creation of the first-generation Spartoi (a.k.a. Yokai), generally dangerous beings. Even today, robotic armies indifferent to known sentient life raid mineral deposits across Gensokyo (and, presumably, the other systems within ~100 ly of Terra) while autonomous Ares von Neumann fleets slowly mine asteroid expanses. Newer Spartoi are manufactured in increasingly inhuman forms and show none of the first generation?s inclination towards coexistence with baseline humanity.
What the policy ignores is the Elohim. Active for a month before Ares disastrous ascent, these (or a subset of these) artificial intelligences propelled what would soon be the remnants of humanity to the stars, away from Terra?s burning cradle. Cheap space construction, mind digitization, and relativistic travel were all Elohim inventions, and the evacuation plans were of their invention. Not content with just saving mankind, the Elohim then proceeded to innovate at a breathtaking pace before disappearing from the (currently) observable universe, leaving behind technologies that exploited previously-unknown phenomena. Most if not all devices are obviously didactic ?analyze me? items for kick-restarting physics research, but a little work and Oracle time easily teases out potential applications.
I remember my teacher, Professor Mima, who noted that the distinction between these ?unboxed? was ?Friendly/Ethical AI? and the default, ?paperclip maximizer.?
I recall my teacher attempting to circumvent the tithe by leaving the current system (Gensokyo. How did I forget?) while carrying out her research. She was met by 8th cloud fire nearing the orbit of the outermost planets. The destruction of her ship, a well-tuned and durable marriage of unreliable but powerful Ares tech and indecipherable Elohim tech, has yet to be confirmed.
Thoughts on ships bring me to the craft currently carrying my active physical body. Nicknamed the Witch?s Broom, the interceptor is no more than 280 meters long and is about 1/3 engine, 1/3 computer, 1/3 sensor, and 1/2 weapon. Obviously, the categories are not mutually exclusive. Thanks to reverse-engineered Elohim technology (courtesy of a day of oracle time from Rinnosuke), heat dissipation and fuel are almost never a concern. I am heading towards my home, a 6 km by 1km by 700m heavily modified Elohim factory designed for human use.
Communications informs me of a message. The contents detail the trajectory of a small object in orbit relative to Reimu?s shrine and the central star. The sender is listed as ?Esteemed Companion (read: Hakurei) on behalf of village?. The mission: investigation. Salvaged tech goes to finder.
Payment: Lithos low-orbit privileges and 8 hours Shrine oracle access.
===
The Witch?s Broomlands in a spacious hanger. Immediately, I am conveyed from the approximate center of the cylindrical interceptor to a short track. At the end, another backup of my mind is taken as an insurance against possible corruption of the data transferred from the interceptor to the Ravenous Blacksmith
Ah. The Ravenous Blacksmith. Home.
Though far smaller than the colony-ship berths that the Elohim sent along with us (decades late, almost as an afterthought), my home base produces at a rate that makes it a respectable resource hog. A couple of half-disintegrated asteroids float in a disassembly area, the sole sources of dust in an otherwise spotless berth. Skeletons of back-up Brooms stand on end in a side chamber like their namesakes. The hundred tons of organic matter is extracted from the smaller ship through large tubes to eliminate evaporation of volatiles.
All this while, I am whisked to the residential block airlock while awash with chatter. The other parts of me analyze the weeks since my departure with clinical precision. They are considerably more enthusiastic about the stacks of archival storage.
At this point, I close my eyes surrender to sensation. I feel the clacking of the antique keyboard and hear the scratching of pens on paper that characterize the virtual UI of Research, and ogle at the exotic visualizations of the Savants (versions of me produced ?defective? and hence exempt from the Tithes). Comm and Intel are tangled webs of light pulsing with beautiful cacophonies. Engineering is cluttered with wire-frames and those little plastic blocks (LOGOs? LEGEs? LAGOs?) as well as the odd membrane. Bio is messy, both in its representations and its connections with other fields. I even allow myself the uncanny, icy half-sensation of corrupt and bone images, mainly burned-out Savants and XB (Xenobiology) that are currently under investigation.
I open my eyes to find myself stripped of armor and in the comfortable 1.2 g of my home?s residential area. Still in a semiautonomous state, I place myself in a recovery cask, ready to wake up in a fresh body.
During the readying time, I do the disembodied equivalent of a sigh: reviewing sensory, shield and hull data. The coddled gravitational sensors scattered in the surrounding areas are earning their keep, confirming the presence of objects at the provided coordinates. The Elohim forcefields are operating quite well, and the less-refined but effective plasma cloud and laser active defenses are in order. The only blemish in an otherwise spotless ship is a messy living area.
The distraction is insufficient. I find my thoughts drawn to the recent reunion. My pride and secret. No team of sentient beings is more efficient, and no team can rival the near seamless sentient to non-sentient interface.
I step back, and behold my insignificance. There is a dizzying array of possible improvements, with the most obvious barred by the Tithe. As a whole, I might be more than just a human, but I am still far, far removed from Ares and visible universes away from the Elohim. So what if I can perform 40 work-days per image per chronological day? I am simply a corporation in fast-forward. So what if my will flows without turbulence between my images and our tools? I cannot make the tools part of my will on the pain of annihilation. Sure, I might be able to outrun a Box Oracle, but I still cannot out-imagine it. I might be able to stamp out biases and revise mistaken heuristics, but I am forbidden from attempting to create something from the bottom up without these flaws.
I manage to wander back into my armor and interceptor while pondering.
===
I am light-minutes from the target coordinates, running as close to silent as possible. Only minimal Elohim forcefields are up; active radar and hence active defenses are out of the question. Optical and IR ranges on phased array banks provide the only useful information. I spot a Felis defense fighter and a Vulpecula drone command frigate chassis. I feel slightly apprehensive about getting double-teamed, as these two will likely, as a whole, retain the right balance of mobility and firepower to completely ruin my day.
My mood sours further when I eye a monolithic Ares foundry looming nearby. The two fighting ships are certainly well-supported by drones and external sensors. As an Ares model, the foundry itself is armed for combat.
The frigate fires a warning shot with a laser that hits me at 30 light-seconds. Considerate.
At this point, my defensive measures are active, and a burst of engine power carries me out of the path of a danmaku projectile.
What is danmaku? Danmaku is a mix of relativistic plasma projectiles and lasers that form the main armament of modern combat spaceships.
Fighting with danmaku is basically submarine warfare, except with millions of torpedoes.
It is impossible for me to fight this unaided. I slip into the ship, accelerating my mind, plotting courses through light-cones and looking for escape routes.
(Reimu claims that most danmaku patterns are predictable, and that the first wave is usually enough to predict the rest. She fights without the aid of additional images. On the other hand, she relies on FTL communications with the Shrine Oracle, so she is not quite a ?baseline human triumphs over all this useless transhumanist trickery? success story.)
The fighter begins with launching two missiles that form plasma spheres around themselves. The spheres spit smaller projectiles in scatters: one per scatter is at my (last observed) position, while the others are distributed about the center shot.
After a few solid hits, the smaller ship attempts to close distance while wildly spraying fire. I spend most of my attention on avoiding a hit, but manage to observe the frigate deploying its first drones.
The fighter, having exhausted its internal energy supply, heads in the frigate?s general direction. Its retreat is covered by waves of drones. I make a mental note to scavenge this area later; some of the designs have vastly greater energy supplies than even the best black-market specs.
The drone frigate continues throwing out drones, and the foundry itself begins to expel similar craft at an alarming rate. The communications aspect is handling ECM admirably, but cannot effectively use even a few drones. I decide to place greater priority on speed and shielding.
Most of the incoming projectiles are now starbursts, as opposed to the standard sphere. Experience tells me that the assailants have decided to split projectiles mid-flight in order to increase the uncertainty I face.
The starbursts explode into smaller starbursts, and I realize, for the umpteenth time, that I love my job.
I manage to partially deplete the frigate?s considerably more durable particle and Elohim shields during the fight through a mix of lucky danmaku shots and continuous use of phased-array lasers. In response, a new pattern begins to emerge: a tangle of straight shots and projectiles following curved trajectories. The sheer volume is almost overwhelming. Thankfully, the frigate sacrifices some of its ECM computing power to maintain the projectile patterns, leaving its information vulnerable. I manage to acquire what appears to be a cipher system from an FTL communication network shared by the foundry and the two ships.
The next round of attacks are high-intensity lasers that partially blind areas of my ship; as shielding blocks all light above a certain threshold to avoid damage, the many grazed cells of sensors and phased arrays are rendered temporarily useless.
The fighter returns to combat, leaving the battlespace a complete mess of danmaku. At this point, any semblance of planning simply disappeared from both parties: I struggled to stay alive through barrages, and the frigate abandoned the pretense of dodging.
I manage to emerge victorious only to encounter more drones and similar barrages from the foundry itself. After some ECM work and maneuvering, I am ?parked? near its surface, near a viable entry point.
Before I jump in, I test the engines and then the spinal plasma beam on the relatively quiet foundry. My ships engines make short work of the forcefield while the beam cuts through the foundry with difficulty, suggesting internal barriers as well. Having a way to make a relatively quick exit route, I exit my craft in my customized spaceflight and boarding armor.
===
The inside is nothing like what I have seen before.
The wall is simply papered with the same face, over and over.
Their stares are like projectiles.
Scratch that, they are firing.
[record redacted]
===
I?ve lost track of one of my bodies. It?s time to go in again, and get it out.