More than that, these are, after all,
fen, and who knows what a slightly-obsessive fan with a bit of Goop and a general lack of good sense might turn out to believe themselves to be? It's easy enough to assume just about any truth-value anyone cares to assign to something like this... or to, say, a visit from a Time Lord, or a representative of the Q Continuum, or the Time-Space Administration Bureau..... --
"I give you the beautiful... the talented... the tirelessly atomic-powered...
R!
DOROTHY!
WAYNERIGHT!
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make
anything explode.
Good point, Sirrocco. On the other hand, it could be someone who's just using the name and pushing the trope to the extreme to achieve their goals, yes?
Funny thought - it'd be interesting if whatever criminal syndicates involved were really the ones putting on this Con in an effort to isolate as many Fen as possible in order to make an offer they can't refuse. Be a hell of a way to get things of to a start, wouldn't you say so?
Black Aeronaut Technologies Group
Aerospace Solutions for the discerning spacer
"To the commissary we should go," Yoda declared firmly. "News
of this kind a danish requires."
*the syndicates make their pitch*
*the Fen grin*
random Fan: See, that's where you've made a pretty fundamental mistake. You're assuming we're trapped in here with you, when in reality, it's you who are trapped in here with _us_.
*beatdown commences*
Yeah, it'd be sort of like that. If only because, while hardmen may be professional and barbaric, there are some Fen who are _that_ paranoid.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
Thanks for the reply...
Yes, I figured that some of the phrases in the post would come across as to strong but it's not nearly as bad as it sounds.
Quote:
- I really, really like the idea of the wheelchair-bound guy who, with a *lot* of time, care, effort, passion, and so forth, fuses with his now-awakened wheelchair into a pretty much fully functional (though now obviously no longer fully human) whole - something of a cross between a Modified human and a 'waveship, with a few waveship-style abilities, and the corresponding qurks (though possibly not quite as many nor as strong - depends on the ability set.)
What I'm going for works on the premise that 'Wavium really acts more like an enhancer than a creation device. From all the posts so far it seems to me that 'Wavium takes the base component (vehicle) and the intent of the user (spaceship) and 'upgrades' it to it's highest possible manifestation of the two given intensity and detail of the users wish and components available. Quirks come from a combination of competing desires, other people's intent affecting the 'Wavium (either at creation time or culimatively through the life of the 'Wavium - makes for new Quirks as Wavium continues to absorb new intent from people around it) and the ceiling on the ability of 'Wavium to transform a base component to it's new purpose. i.e you'll get a better chance of an AI from a Quad core computer base than a calculator.
Since the base use of a wheelchair is a cross between a vehicle and a prosthetic (it is an extension of my body - I don't think about making the chair move I just do it) then the ultimate expression of that is a sort of full body suit that melds with the user to repair or replace damaged functionality.
So you end up with a person that is basically a cyborg except its 'wavium not machine...
Quote:
- The "make anything we want" aspect is...worrisome. Seems a tch overpowered Personally, I'd suggest a sort of freakish combination that combined a relatively *small* amount of the liquid metal with all of the (now mostly disassembled) powered wheelchair (with onboard computer). It would let you make anything that you could reasonably construct out of the pieces of a high-end motorized wheelchair, but not just *anything*.
Err ok... the character says 'anything' but that's not exactly true...
Firstly, anything 'made' has to stay in contact with the indvidual as it is made out of his 'waveium. He can't afford to lose too much or primary functions - that is making him able to walk and such normally begins to suffer.
Secondly, definately NOT a motorised chair. Those are not body extensions... So no making computers or random electronics. He can make 'solid' objects and replicas - think odo from DS9 with his 'coffee cup' - so he always has weapons to hand, literally, but they're all strictly low tech. Projectiles are difficult because without a lot of intent they lose form when released. On the other hand, within a certain area of affect, he can throw things and then have them return as unformed 'Wavium after they've done the damage.
So he can form a chair, or a bodysuit that functions like a spacesuitship and levitate and so forth - all basic 'Wave properties - but things like flying (esp. in space) require all his 'Wave.
So it's sort of a cross between a shapeshifter (only unused 'wave can shift so theres an upper limit to how much can be used/created) and one of Spider Robinson's 'Star Dancers'
Quote:
- The "bend reality to our will" part is *really* worrisome. Is almost certainly overpowered. Personally, I'd suggest building him as a ship. He'd be about the smallest, lightest ship imaginable, so he could be zippy indeed. That whole "can't get out of the ship, ever - and really pretty noticeable in a crowd" thing pays for a number of quirk points, as well - perhaps enough for a pretty short-range ability to play with the local grav effects. Snag something like an Odd (but findable) Dietary Need, hook on a few more useful (and instantly handwaved) devices, and it should compare pretty well with the other stuff that will be out there at that time.
Haha. Ok. Yes...and No. As you'e probably figured now it isn't so much 'He is in a ship' as 'They are the ship'. So - dude in a full bodysuit, cloak, gloves and such, not that noticable - esp. among Fen.
![[Image: smile.gif]](http://www.ezboard.com/intl/aenglish/images/emoticons/smile.gif)
The traceries of silver 'wavium over his body might raise a few eybrows, although his 'clothes keep him as covered as possible, for that reason. The 'Wave is directly plugged into him to replace, rewire and/or stimulate all the broken bits that wouldn't work without it.
Of course now, it keeps him in very good shape as well as acting like a living body brace and what not. Of course this means that he doesn't have much spare wavium to play with (until it grows, and even then it's still precious) before primary functionality is impared.
And as for bending reality - that is exactly what 'wavium does. The larger the concentration of 'wave the bigger the potential for impossible things... and bigger quirks too
His ratio of 'Wave to normal material is very high evidently. However there are some very heavy (and I should think obvious), restrictions to this.
1) The bigger the impossibility the harder it is to 'Wave
2) The further away the less the bend affects things - inverse corralation between distance and amount of 'Wave being used to create the effect.
3) Mundane stuff is easy to effect. Other 'Wave and 'Wave effected items will for obvious reasons resist any reality bending in favour of their OWN realitybending . The difficulty increases exponentially when the 'Wave is intelligent and/or is directed by an intelligence.
So he can't just wave a hand and have magic happen. He has to (1) will it very strongly (2) make sure he's close to whatever he's tring to affect - the weirder the change the closer he needs to be and/or more of his 'waveload he has to use; and (3) other 'waved things and people will resist the change and possibly even cause a backlash and Quirks!
Also keep in mind that he may have never included a computer, but the human brain is the biggest computer ever and the wave is now part of that - so they've got more than an AI - they have a second personality to live with... and the Synthetic Personality is a lot smarter than a computer based intelligence is...
..Of course it's a bigger problem too! With big Quirks! They spend a lot of time talking to themselves... and disagreeing
So Just cause he wants something to happen doesn't mean it does... or in the way intended either...
Which answers the last question I think
So I don't think he's superpowered. Actually he proabably has disadvantages the others don't. For example, a convention would be a problem for him because 'Wavium is affected by exposure to intent... the more people around the weirder it acts unless the user is strong enough mentally to keep it focused on their desires.
But the ability to go anywhere, and keep in tip top shape pretty much evens it out for him...
There's a reason I called him a 'Wave Mage... he is pretty much now a person with special abilities as opposed to a person with cool items.
Thanks for the spelling correction! And the dietary need... I'll have to think about that...
Raphael
"That's not good," she understated.
"Nope."
"So, this Nagato chick wants you to help her set up some kinda fennish Interpol?"
"Interpol can't arrest people," I pointed out. "More like a cross between the Mounties and a coast guard."
"Whatever." Stacy turned and started to go through her suitcase, then stopped and spun back to face me with one of her most serious looks on her face. "Do you want to do this? Sign on and be a hero?"
I shrugged uncomfortably, then sighed and admitted, "No. Well... talking to people and convincing them and setting things up... that I can do. But after it happens - if it does - setting up Moondance as one of their ships, running her as, as a warship in all but name... No. It needs doing and I will if no one else steps forwards... but it scares me. I don't want that kind of thing on my shoulders, and I don't want to know that... that you might have to get one of those letters, or worse, to get yours..."
She nodded slowly and turned back to fish one of her usual going-out ensembles from the suitcase; a floor length dress over what she was already wearing and an oversized, shapeless sweater over that. With her arms curled around her waist and the rest of her figure almost completely hidden by the bulky clothes, she looked about twice her weight - but normal.
I hated the things, of course - they were hideous and she was beautiful and deserved better, but she thought that looking like a frumpy whale was better than coping with a constant barrage of hentai fanboys, so who was I to argue?
"I do," she said, softly. "I... Natalie, I need to know that what I'm doing matters. Life is wasted otherwise."
"Then we will."
She blinked. "As simple as that."
"It's important to you," I said. "How could it not be?"
"For someone who claims to be so cold-blooded about love, you can be pretty romantic," she said, and laid the clothes down in favor of stepping close and drawing me into a hug. "You really love me that much."
I thought it was very sad that even after a year together she still sounded so amazed when she said things like that. "Of course I do," I answered, deadpan. "You bring me Midol."
There was perfect silence for a moment or two, and then she punched me in the shoulder, hard. "You bitch!" she said, but when I leaned up to kiss her she was smiling.
Then she rested her forehead against mine and said, "If we do this now, your costume will get all messed up."
I sighed. "Raincheck?"
"Definitely."
We stepped apart, and by the time I had fastened the costume's gunbelt she was most of the way through slipping into the sweater. I held my arms open, wordlessly awaiting final inspection. She tugged one bit one way, then another the next, then stepped back and nodded firmly. "Perfect."
I offered her my arm, and she took it in the most courtly and feminine way she could manage. "I can keep an eye out for Nagato, if you want to talk to her."
"Yes, I would." Her voice was trying to be a little chill, but I knew her well enough for the lurking mischief to raise the hair on the back of my neck. "What does she look like?"
"Slim, Japanese, a couple inches taller than me, messy gray hair a little longer than yours, sloppy dresser."
The trap I'd sensed snapped closed. "Was she hot?"
"What?!" I squawked.
"Was. She. Hot? Did you wanna do her? You know..."
I gaped, but managed to pull together a weak counterattack before she could come up with something even worse. "Where the hell did that come from?"
The joking drained out of the air fast enough for the few other fen in that back hallway to give us curious looks. "Doing this... We could die. I'd rather we looked for a third than leave the other alone."
Life was never that simple, of course, but on the other hand... the thought of Stace's face at seeing the grim, uniformed man at the door bearing a black-sealed envelope loomed large in my mind. "I'll look. But..."
"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I won't let anyone near that isn't good enough for you."
"If she makes you happy, she's good enough... and, yes, vice versa."
"Good," she said softly, then brightened and raised her voice to public levels. "Now! Let's go show 'em that last year's Grenadier is as good as ever!"
I guess I'm in a clear minority in thinking that the fanfic route makes more sense and plays better as a story. Ah, well. Leaving it ambiguous might not be as much fun, but it can work, too, and anyway doesn't stop individual authors from viewing the setting as something that crystallized out of a supersaturated solution around the seed element of Haruhi's crack-brained worldview.
Ja, -n
===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri... Bang!"
Quote:
I guess I'm in a clear minority in thinking that the fanfic route makes more sense and plays better as a story. Ah, well. Leaving it ambiguous might not be as much fun, but it can work, too, and anyway doesn't stop individual authors from viewing the setting as something that crystallized out of a supersaturated solution around the seed element of Haruhi's crack-brained worldview.
Well, you can count me in on the 'Haruhi fanfic OK!' side of things. After all, the idea that Fenspace as a whole was somehow Haruhi's fault belongs to me, I set up the SOS-dan as the driving plot engine for the beginning, etc.
(I even managed to come up with a Haruhi-related "origin" for handwavium that owes a lot to John Carpenter's
Prince of Darkness, but I thought that might be going too far. Bug me later if you really wanna know.)
As for ambiguity... there's no reason not to play it as ambigious up until the final trump. From
the point of view of the non-SOS characters it makes just as much sense to consider the SOS-dan a collection of tame lunatics as it does to believe that they're right about everything. Just the odd hint every now and then that maybe, just
maybe there's something more to the SOS-dan than just another fanclub.
So Our Heroes don't have to accept all of Yuki's story blind, they can go along for the sake of going along (as well as rooting out the raiders going after the outer stations) and the truth will out... eventually.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord
interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
Half an hour later, the Suzdals and I are cleaned up and at our stations on the Masaka's bridge. Dress uniform, even, all professional-like, at least if you appreciate skulls, capes, and spandex with piping.
The old girl's bridge is a lot more impressive than I'd intended. Like a lot of SSX-registered ships, the 'wavium we used to enhance her control consoles and sensor displays got out of hand; at last count there were three thousand four hundred and sixty-seven dials, gauges, spirit levels, and Tochiro-only-knows what other kinds of Matsumoto Meters inset into the bulkheads, and that's just here -- they've been spreading to the rest of the ship. The vast majority don't even come labeled, and we've only been able to puzzle out what a tenth or so actually do. Felice is convinced that every one of them is measuring something, even if it isn't relevant to the ship or indeed to anything at all. Gummed or painted notes indicate the ones we know. (One of them calculates the exact distance between the Masaka and a point in the Andromeda Galaxy, and someday I hope to find out what's there. Another is locked solid on 3.14159 etcetera; if that one ever changes we're all in trouble.)
My own station, at center, is only half as complicated as any of the girls'. It has to be -- I only have half the number of arms each of them does, never mind lacking a tail with a three-forked pseudohand on the end (there's a low stool with a mousepad behind each of their chairs). If anyone ever tries to hijack us, they'll have the devil of a time just trying to operate the ship.
"This is a Con invite? Reads like Vogon poetry, only the author failed to counterpoint the surrealism of the underlying metaphor." Solstice wrinkles her nose, obviously unimpressed.
"Vogon or not," Felice replies, "it's legit, and Phobos isn't even out of our way, so we're practically obliged to attend. Right, hon?"
"As rain, sweetheart," I answer, still goggling at the message. "...But an unscheduled affair like this... either they think there's a genuine emergency going on, or they're unfamiliar with Con etiquette, or they have some agenda they want pushed now and to hell with what we all think of them, or..."
"Or something you haven't thought of yet, nya?" Eurydice pipes up after a moment of silence.
"You know my methods, darlin'." I pick up my wineglass (grape juice -- sadly, my tolerance is nowhere near my idol's, and it wouldn't do to fly drunk) and strike a contemplative pose in the captain's La-Z-Boy. "Well, I can't see how skipping it would make the situation any better. How're we for time?"
Felice (science officer, navigation, gunnery) checks her board. "Four hours until landfall at Syrtis Major. Should be plenty of time to offload our cargo and still hit Phobos during the first day."
"We'll call that a yes then. Solstice, anything else on the 'net?"
Sol (communications, security, ship's cook) brings her own display up. "Five more confirmed bodymods in the last week, another twenty rumors and tabloid tales. Two gender swaps, a buffout, an elf, and a nekomimi." She grins wryly, being like her sisters the product of a vastly more advanced -- if unintended -- mod than just ears and a tail. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Even the tabloids don't have any shapeshifters this time around." No potential new data for Project M, then. Oh well. "In other news..." She scowls. "Ice stations are being attacked. Wiped out or vanished, fifteen at last count, along with a number of asteroid prospectors. Someone's getting organized, and competent enough to dodge or stomp the Seijoutaigakure."
"But -- why, nya?" Eurydice (helmswoman, medic, self-proclaimed morale officer) gasps. (No, there's no First Mate. Do I look stupid?) "Everyone depends on the miners, out here and even on Earth! Who could do such a horrible thing?" It still amazes me, after everything the girls went through, how innocent Eury-chan can be. I hope she never has cause to lose that... but with the darker element of humanity on the move again, we might not be able to avoid it.
I know my duty, to my fellow man and dramatic necessity alike. Rising from the chair (a more difficult proposition than it sounds, given that it's a recliner and I have to avoid spilling my grape juice), I give my captain's cape a dramatic sweep and prepare to Proclaim.
"Whoever they are, wherever they may hide," I state, "we will hunt them down. And when we find them, they will learn to fear a Space Pirate's wrath.
"We'll drop cargo, then touch base at the Con -- this SOS Brigade may be concerned about the raiders as well, and there'll be Pirates to contact. And then we'll arm up and begin the hunt..." Hm. We need to call them something now, hang some kind of label on them just for the sake of the information roundup.
"Felice, open a new file. Codename: Boskone."
--Sam
"Oh, there's crime here. I can smell it."
Marshall Everett Dylan cut an imposing figure in his 'danetech spacesuit, especially as it appeared to be one of the ones adapted from deep-sea diving. His stride was a little strained as he was apparently used to the lesser gravity of the 'danelaw parts of Luna. His eyes flashed back and forth between myself and the Dobbses.
"Which one of you," he asked in the typical NASA drawl affected by most 'dane spacers, "is the Captain?"
I smiled gently and replied. "I am the Captain of the Pinafore."
And a right good Captain, too! Buttercup chorused.
"'Tis true, by trow," I said to her pickups, "But please, not now."
Awww! That's no fun!
The Marshall's eyes crinkled a bit. That was good, he was somewhat used to the quirks of Fenships. "Right, Lieutenant Nelson said you needed to see me?"
I straightened the cuffs on my jumpsuit. "Yes, I had to rescue these nice folks," I said, indicating the Dobbses, "and their charter pilot from the scumbag in my brig. I was too late to stop the biomods you see, but I was able to stop the brainwashing procedures before he got them into the slave markets." I glanced at the door to the decks below. "Well, I saved the Dobbses. Their pilot has suffered mental trauma and may not ever be normal again."
"The poor dear," Mrs Dobbs interjected.
"I see," the marshall said. "Evidence?"
I handed him a DVD. "From a vanilla camcorder. I also have the logs from his asteroid base in Earth-Sol Lagrange cluster five."
"Right. This appears to be in order." He removed a device from a magnetic holster at the waist of his suit and passed it over the Dobbses. He frowned slightly at the various bloops and bleeps it emitted, replaced it and pulled out a voice recorder. "Is the pilot modified the same way?"
"Approximately," I replied. "Her hair is black, rather than the blonde you see here."
"Right. With your permission Captain, I'd like to take the Dobbses' statements on board."
I quirked an eyebrow. That was unusual. Normally, the 'danelaw rep would take the victims to his base for their statements. 'Well,' I thought, 'maybe there's something going on at the base.'
"I don't think that will be a problem. Just tell Buttercup when you're done." I walked belowdeck and made my way to the cabin I'd put the pilot into. Her modified Checker Cab sat beside the Pearl Forrester in my vehicle bay. Hopefully, the marshall would be able to use the license plates on it to identify who she used to be.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
Quote:
(I even managed to come up with a Haruhi-related "origin" for handwavium that owes a lot to John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness, but I thought that might be going too far. Bug me later if you really wanna know.)
"The Holy Ghost will not save you. You will not be saved by the Great God Plutonium. In fact,
you will not be saved."
That's the one, right?
--Sam
"Well that guy's nekkid."
Hrmmm. I actually have something in mind for a character/ship that would fit in well here, Lurker. It fits in well with the crime angle, possibly something that happened a month or two before the con. Before I post it though, I want to run something past people. I had an idea for a weapon effect...but it's neither actual weaponry or something intended to be a weapon from the get-go.
Figure a go-cart body as a sensor platform. Various tools and devices - great for testing asteroids without dealing with a bothersome suit. Handwavium to give it basic propulsion....and while small things go faster, I think these would be too small to fully power most engines. Best you could do would be a few hundred miles per second, maybe. The thing is....well, from the ancient days of wet navy warfare, one offensive command has always been 'Ramming speed....' There's no actual weapon effect....but I imagine even handwavium reinforcements might have a problem with something weighing 150-200 pounds hitting it at Mach 500 or so.... Opinions? If people don't see too great a problem with it, I'll post up the snippet for the Boskonians that I meet.
Oh - my guy is a version of me, goes by the Jason. Specialty is biomodding plants - makes a living selling them to people. Ship is the Fateful Lightning.
I have no problem with it as long as it's properly quirky when attempted to be used as a weapon.
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
Hokay, further response to our friend the 'wave-borg.
First, I gotta say, yes, it is as bad as it sounded.
- concept of character as 'wave-borg in general. It works a *lot* better as, essentially, a neural-connected suit of power armor than as a hypertech cyborg equivalent. Going with the latter would basically require that he drink a fair amount of the stuff and then completely luck out on his "what did you turn into" check. Also... where, on this cyborg, do the original wheelchairbits go? You can't just throw them out aterwards - they're important and necessary parts of the defining matrix. Finally, in order to get done what you want to get done, you're probably going to require at least about half the mass of the human character in handwavium. All of that mass has to go somewhere. Thus the idea of powered armor rather than cyborg.
- not "highest possible manifestation" so much as "bizarred and not terribly predictable but generally major enhancement"
- nature of handwavium: here is your first issue. Point one is that quirks aren't from interference. They're from the fact that you're working with handwavium, which is by its nature a poorly understood technology. Focused, perfectly controlled and quirk-free applications will be available in about 50-100 years (You might get close in as few as 25-35, given the amount of efort that is going into understanding the stuff, but you wouldn't be quite there yet.) In any case, though, by that point almost everyone will have them, and it'll be well outside the scope of the current exercise. The point is that we don't *know* what, exactly, makes handwavium do what it does. We have some basic clue, and in a few years we're likely to have a bit more, but we won't straight-up know. I can buy that this guy set up a really intense system with a lot of up-front investment of time and mental energy, and gets something of appropriate coolness in response. That's cool. What it buys him, though, is that it turns his wheelchair into pretty much what he wanted (a suit of power-armor) rather than just something that he'd probably find useful (a gravity-assisted hoverchair). What it does *not* buy him is any sort of freedom from quirk effects. Is another reason to go power armor. Having to live the rest of your life as a hulking obvious amalgam of man, machine, and 'wavium pays for a lot of quirk points, if you play up the inconvenience/bizarreness from time to time
- basic wave properties: on of the things to remember is that basic 'wave devices have one or two things that they do. AIs and other character-equivalent devices can have a few more, and major vehicles tend to incorporate a number of smaller devices into themselves. The point is, though, that each toy does one or two things, and each character only has access to a finite (usually small) number of toys. Beyond that, the toys that they do have then have quirks that counterbalance them to a degree. You're asking for "I can form any basic tool or shape I might want, I have instant access to a ship-equivalent and spacesuit at all times, I'm always covered in low-profile armor, I'm a natural combat monster at hand-to-hand and close range, oh, and I can warp the local laws of reality. In exchange, I'll take the quirk that my skin looks funny (easily hidden behind normal clothing) and maybe one or two others of relatively low level." This isn't even *remotely* balanced.
- your on-board buddy: speaking of which, having an affectionate but occasionally adversarial relationship with the AI that lives in your head? actually, in this case, this isn't quite enough quirk to break even with the nifty thing about having a generally allied AI that lives in your head. Also, your brain cannot serve as the basis for your AI. It is too busy serving as the basis for *you*. Adding 'waved intelligence to human brains yields Mad Scientists, not onboard AIs. Thus the continuing need for a computer.
- Simple initial hardtech yields simple wavetech. Complex wavetech requires complex initial hardtech. For something like this, an ordinary wheelchair simply isn't going to be sufficient. It could serve as the core, certainly, but you'ld have to include a few other things as well, preferably higher on the tech scale. This is why I was thinking you were talking motorized. They don't have to be specified, but they would have to be there.
Perhaps I am wrong, but the biggest issue here seems to me to be thematic. It sounds like you want a superhero-style character. Indeed, the character you describe would make an excellent low-level superhero out of the box, and could be trained up to low-medium or straight medium with relative ease. He even has a decent (actually, more than decent. Remarkably high-quality, really) superhero-genre origin story. This, however, is not a superhero universe. This is an awkward universe. This is a universe that, more than anything else, is about going too far, too fast, and then desperately patching the holes that result with duct tape. This is a universe composed entirely of kludgy tech - of things that work only because the individuals that love them have figured out how to compensate for all their many flaws and strange needs. This is not intended to be heroic (though there are heroics here, and they belong, the heroics are most often those of (arguably) normal people, thrust (however willingly) into abnormal situations and doing the best they can under the circumstances.) This is intended, mostly, to be funny.
On the other hand, it's very late for me now, and so that bit abotu thematic issues could be entirely off-base. I'm signing off now. I would say, though, that the writing was excellent, and I would look forward to seeing more of the character, regardless of how, or where, he turns out. You pretty much *could* plug him into your superhero universe of choice with only a few minor edits. If you don't think that he'd survive the conversion to 'wave-normal with the parts that appealed to you intact, i would suggest that you transplant him to a universe where he *would* fit, and run with him there.
Hmm. Amusing thing about the Boskonians...
You may recall that at the 'Con is a DEA agent? Well his message for the General Lee could basically be summed up as:
Thionite comes from Venus.
It seems that a certain plant native to Venus, when treated with microscopic quantities of handwavium, can be rendered down into something that has the narcotics market in an uproar.
And one of the little agreements between Fendom and the 'Danelaw is that there is to be no commerce in narcotics from the one to the other. (Making is fine, using is fine, selling or regular bartering is not). Mr Morden is not a happy fellow about that.
Does anyone want to guess at whether there's a connection between this and what's happening out in the Asteroid Belt?
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
transferred
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
The first rule of any convention, big or little, is if you want to know what's going on, stake out the bar first thing. That's where the real powers behind the Nation lurk: the pros, the SMOFs and the random drunks.
Okay, not so much the random drunks.
Anyway, the best place to get accurate information on what's happening behind the scenes at a Convention is to go to the bar, buy a beer or two and eavesdrop. Most of the conversation will be about the usual irrelevant shit, maybe the occasional dirty joke you haven't heard before, but you'll also get plenty of information about the current SMOF pecking order and other tidbits that help form a big picture about the current state of fen politics.
So that's what I did. I got into Callahan's, grabbed a stake at the bar and listened to the SMOFs talk. Since the Convention wasn't scheduled, there was more political talk than usual.
The first thing I noticed was that the SMOFs seemed to be just as much in the dark about the Convention as the rest of us. That was a bit troubling. I wasn't expecting to hear the entire nefarious plot from beginning to end over a pitcher of margaritas, but still. Apparently the SOS Brigade were keeping a low profile until tomorrow's morning session. Unusual,, that. Most Convention organizers at least make a token appearance on the first day, welcome folks, thank them for coming, the usual.
The other thing I kept hearing were dark mutterings about the raiders on the edge of the system. That got my attention. We hadn't seen any raiders on our Saturn expedition - the area's not developed, and besides the Star is more than capable of defending herself - but we'd heard the rumors about ice miners and rockrats vanishing from the Main and Kuiper belts.
I was leaning in, trying to get a better read on the conversation, when somebody joggled my elbow. Not an unusual thing in a crowded bar, but this had the feel of somebody deliberately trying to get my attention. I turned and took a look at the responsible party.
My first impression was "boy, this guy's is is the wrong place." He was young, late teens or early twenties maybe, Japanese, in a suit and tie that was *completely* out of place with his surroundings and he was looking at me with this sort of little half-smile, like he knew something I didn't.
(captain fnord?) he asked over the din.
(i could be,) I replied. (who's asking?)
(my name is koizumi itsuki, with the sos-dan. may i speak with you privately, please?)
Well now! Here I was trying to get some intel on the mysterious SOS, and what should happen but one of the members comes up and wants to talk to me. Truly, the gods of fortune smile upon my honky ass. I held up a palm, finished off my beer and said (just a second.) I spun back to face the bartender. (mike!)
Mike glanced at me. I jerked my head towards the back rooms. He nodded, gave me a thumbs-up and went back to tending bar. I stood up and motioned Koizumi towards the back. (step into my office.)
We wound our way through the crowded bar until we reached the back rooms. I opened the door, motioned Koizumi through, then entered. Once inside with the door closed, the overwhelming noise cut off like I'd thrown a switch.
"Much better," I said. "Now, Mr. Koizumi, you and your 'SOS-dan.' You're quite the talk of the Convention, you know. Calling one under the emergency clause, then staying quiet about your motives. To say nothing about the initial notice."
"Ah, yes. That." Koizumi had the good grace to look embarrased about that. "Miss Suzumiya, our leader, wrote that and had it translated herself. Her written English isn't the best and she refused to let others proof it. She can be... willful." He seemed to be putting some emphasis on the last word.
"No foolin'. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
"I was sent here to request your assistance."
"Uh huh. My assistance in?"
"We - that is, the SOS-dan - would like you and your crew to support Miss Suzumiya's initiative tomorrow. More to the point, we would like you to support the initiative even if it fails to win the vote."
I blinked. That was not quite what I had expected. "Why us?"
Koizumi gave me that damnable half-smile. "Not only you, Captain. My associates are contacting other independent fen as well. In your case, you and your crew are famous, Captain," he said. "You have a quite large following, even if you don't care to notice it yourself. Your ship, the... exploits involved in acquiring it, your adventures since... well." He shrugged. "Also, you, your crew and your ship have certain skills that may be necessary."
I shook my head. "Okay, wait one minute kid. Before you go any further, would you mind telling me what your boss's proposal *is* first?"
So he told me. The story leading into it was elliptical in the telling but pretty straightforward in the gist. Apparently the SOS-dan had lucked into some sort of intelligence about the raiders; bases, numbers, goals, something like that. Instead of giving the intel to Starfleet or SSX, this Suzumiya woman had decided to instead use it as leverage to form a sort of multifractional taskforce to deal with the raiders. He finished his summation with that classic line beloved by politicans everywhere, "May the SOS-dan count on your support?"
I thought about it. "I don't rightly know," I said. "What you're proposing is... big. Really big. Without a clearer danger I doubt your boss will be able to push this through the full vote. We've all got enough rocks in our ruck without signing on to this crusade or whatever."
Koizumi nodded. "In truth, I don't expect it to pass," he said. "However, Miss Suzumiya was insistent, and I've found it wise to just, ah, let her do her thing."
"As for me and my crew," I continued, "I'm not sure. I admit that I'm tempted. If it was just me and Ptichka..." I shook my head. "But it isn't. I won't speak for my crew in this, they'll have to decide for themselves."
"Of course," Koizumi replied. "Perfectly understandable. When might we be able to hear a decision from your crew?"
I gave it a little thought. "Your boss is going to make her proposal tomorrow morning, right? You or somebody else from SOS can swing by and hear our decision an hour or so before the opening session. We're making base camp on the 33rd floor of Hab Block D."
Koizuma bowed. "I shall do so. Thank you, Captain, for allowing me to state my case."
I didn't return the bow, but gave him a coridal nod. "Best of luck in your future endeavours, Mr. Koizumi."
Koizumi left the room, letting a brief blast of noise and half a verse of "Banned From Argo" ("we're the Federation's finest, and our record is our pride") into the room. I leaned up against the wall, trying to sort through everything Koizumi said, everything he *didn't* say, and trying to make sense of it.
One: Based on what I'd heard earlier in the bar, along with other rumors, the raiders were getting bolder and more organized with each attack. Even if they're just hitting rockrats and the ice stations, sooner or later - presume sooner - they'd be a threat to the big Inner System stations: Phobos, Deimos, Luna, the Island, ISS.
Two: Like it or not, the belt miners *are* our primary economic link to Earth. Without the metals trade, our economy crashes.
Three: SSX usually keeps the Main Belt free of hostiles. If they're having trouble, losing ships, then it's probably something too big for any one fraction to handle on their own.
Primary hypothesis: Suzumiya is right, and some sort of multifractional force is needed.
However... Four: SSX Base hasn't admitted to losing ships in combat yet. But the SOS Brigade knew. The Brigade has been off-Earth less than a year, maybe less than six months. How did they know? Pirates don't blab no matter how drunk you get them, and certainly not about something like *that*.
Five: Koizumi said they were seeking out specific free agents. Not asking the fraction leaders for assistance.
Secondary hypothesis: This is a setup. Either SOS is trying to lead fandom into an ambush, or they're the catspaw for another entity trying to do same.
Question: Cui bono? Fandom's made a lot of enemies since the wave hit, a lot of them have the money and talent necessary to play this kind of game. Whoever's behind the raiders (or SOS) could be... almost any of them.
Tertiary hypothesis: One way or another, the answers lie with the SOS-dan. The logical option would be to play along until the truth is out.
I sighed. Just enough information to make me curious, but not enough to come to a proper conclusion. Koizumi was either that good, or I was that gullible. Probably a combination of both.
In any case, I wasn't my own master anyway. My crew needed to know what was up. I pulled out my cell and dialed the ship. "Ptichka, get the others, have them meet me back at the Star. Something's come up."---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord
interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
Dang, all those developments look great. It's a shame that my character is far too anonymous to have a chance to get involved in it all.
-Edit-
Well, he might have a reputation due to the army of drones that cause trouble wherever he goes, but I don't think that's what the SOS-dan would look for.
Hunterminator: If you want to get in on this, I do have a thought for you. They're approaching meanignful individuals, but they may well also be approaching likely looking clumps of mid-rangers. Given your hordes of robots (and their capitalist tendencies) you probably slot in at the "oh, yeah. I know who that guy is" level with a fair number of folks, and it doesn't seem unreasonable to me that one of the more individually charismatic of the SOS-dan might see a clump of people of about your bracket and grab the opportunity to talk to you all at once. Of course, this would mean you'd have to throw together about three or four semi-meaningful independant captain NPCs to be talkign *with*, but we can always use more bit parts.
Alternately, you could wait for the announcement like everyone else.
Mmm... and now that I'm thinking of it, my character's talking with the Professor this very moment (joint post in the making) and the Professor would definitely be approached.
I think it's the appreciation of simple, pure joy.
That's the closest I can come to putting it into words, and the closest I've ever come to pinning down one of Maetel's defining characteristics.
It's not that she's constantly happy and eternally optimistic and Belldandy-esque, because she isn't. There've been times she was almost as introspectively gloomy as me.
She was in an almost giddy sort of mood back after she'd hauled Morden's 'puppy' into orbit, though. It was the most unguarded I'd ever seen her being ... well, barring recent events.
So I sort of feel like I owe Morden one for that, even if it was a bit of chance rather than something deliberate.
It also left Maetel thinking very fondly of the Saint Bernard.
And if you're wondering why I'm thinking about what used to be a transport plane like it's actually alive ... it's likely because I do. In part, because she does, and in part because I've a gut feeling.
Also, if you're wondering why I was ruminating about Maetel right then, when I'd had a Kunoichi drop a bit of a bombshell on me just minutes ago?
Let's just say it kept me grounded and away from considering something ill-advised, and leave it at that.
Meanwhile, I'd left my momentary position of contemplation, and figured I might as well get some mileage out of the stands. We hadn't said we'd be meeting anywhere in particular after we were done with our respective errands, but if I was needed for something both myself and her had commo on us.
Heh. I still found it vaguely amusing that it took the advent of the space-age to get me to buy a cell.
If nothing came up, we'd likely either run across one-another while browsing, or when we hit the hotel-units Scales' had magnanimously per-booked for Hermes.
Before that, though, I mingled my way past Whedonites' booth - did they have permits for those crossbows? - and headed for the Jolly Harlocks flapping over yonder.
I browsed my way past the mockups and into the actual good stuff, and started off with getting a pretty damn accurate little ivory skull and crossbones hair-ornament.
A few minutes, a gunbelt, scarf, and a few more odds and ends afterwards I was weighing the hilt of a fairly nifty taser-rapier in my hand, and nodded.
Paid.
Collected the whole lot into the complimentary Harlocked duffle.
Then proceeded to vacate the premises, because there was a high chance of a more attentive Matsumotoite happening by and recognizing me by virtue of association.
Also, I was kind of hoping the weight of the duffle and its contents would stop me from making a 'why not try Emma Frost?' comment somewhere down the line.
Yeah.
I'd just about managed to shelve my other concerns to the side when I was ... well, not exactly intercepted.
I was pretty much going on automatic and stepped around the guy before I noticed he was actually talking to me.
Or, you know, at me.
I paused in mid-step, then sidestepped to let someone with too much gear and too little ability to see where he was going ramble past ... yeesh. There's such a thing as a too big sword.
"Sorry, say that again?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Whoa!"
Right. The walking armory - either that, or junk-shop - really wasn't watching where he was going, and the guy backpedalled, tripped, and landed on his ass.
I gave him a hand up a moment later, after spending that brief instant shaking my head. Yup. Whoever that heap of ferrous was still hadn't learned to tread softly, meaning he hadn't met anyone with a bigger stick yet.
Seeing as he was heading towards the Federation, I was half tempted to trail behind and watch the almost inevitable Klingon dogpile, but after you'd seen one you've sort of seen them all so ...
"Okay, from the top. What was that again?" I asked the guy after helping him back into the vertical world.
"I'm looking for Schrdinger Katz."
Okay.
Nope.
Like I said, outside of certain situations and circles, I don't do profilic. Sometimes not even then. There are people out there who know me, sure, and those who know of me, though that's a smaller group - because in most cases, I'm little more than 'hey, you' and like to leave it at that - and he didn't look like a member.
Japanese, wearing what looked like some sort of school uniform - jacket, pants, untucked shirt and loose tie - and faintly sardonic. Spoke with an accent.
I looked at my chrono, shrugged, and nodded. Not like I had anything else to do, any maybe whatever this was would provide me with more of a momentary distraction.
"You've found him. What're you gonna do with him?"
He looked faintly uncomfortable.
"Could we maybe talk someplace more private?"
"Sorry, you're not my type."
I think that took a moment to compute, before he finally started to protest ...
... and got drowned out by the collective Fendom going into a dull roar as the stage back towards the promenade's entrance was finally put to use. Or was it just somebody with a guitar and a hookup for it making use of the facilities?
A few chords were ripped off, and I winced at what was to follow when I recognized them.
I looked left.
I looked right.
I grabbed the puzzled and still gesticulating guy and hauled ass out of the immediate blast radius, managing to make it into a nearby ... hmm, looked like there was some kind of miniatures tournament going on ... shoppe and closing the door right as the first shout of:
"FLASH! A-AH!"
tore through the air.
"Yeah, usually I don't mind improv. Usually," I shook my head. "Seriously, though. Who're you?"
The gamers had pretty much gone back to what they'd been doing when we'd come in, scrubbing us from their collective radars.
He reached into his jacket and rummaged around a little, before withdrawing a ... business card?
Kyon, SOS-dan.
Hmm.
Interesting.
"Okay. That gives you an ear."
A few minutes later and I was back outside again, walking alone again, and trying very very hard to avoid getting myself into a mood conductive to doing something ... rash. Pretty much back where I'd started after Maki had talked to me. Only a bit more aware of the scope of things.
To put matters bluntly ...
That's some heavy shit.
Followed pretty much immediately by:
Holy Global Frequency, Batman.
Okay. If Kyon's here, who's watching Haruhi? Or was that her on the guitar, maybe?
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
the proff has been approched, if you look back it's noted more than once he will be holding a speach. It is that until today I had no clue what the speach was going to be about. Now I have a vague idea.
E: "Did they... did they just endorse the combination of the JSDF and US Army by showing them as two lesbian lolicons moving in together and holding hands and talking about how 'intimate' they were?"
B: "Have you forgotten so soon? They're phasing out Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
*snaps his fingers*
Oh well, that gives me an excuse to make a bunch of NPCs and try to figure out what Laurent's (My character's name) reputation might be.
Quote:
I don't think we've seen Mikuru yet. Probably not the wisest choice in watchperson, but needs must as the devil drives.
Well, I think it's worth noting that we're set at least several years
after the series - putting the SOS-dan in their early twenties.
IOW, this is AllGrowedUp!Mikuru we're talking about, here.
Not using her as a contact person would, IMHO, be a rather unwise waste.
Besides, isn't it only really apparant how cracktastic a world Haruhi lives in if you get a chance to talk to her directly? We've seen that she can do a pretty good job of working a crowd, after all. So you scatter your sane agents through the con to have hushed conversation with the BNFs and get them at least on your page, then have the Queen Of Crazy Rock act as the more 'public' face of the organisation. Then, once the business day starts afterwards and the leadership of the Real Factions gets brought in, those latter take a look at what they're being presented with, think about it... and likely go asking questions, gathering information and second opinions... mostly from Big Name Fans.
One question, though - where does 'Mal' draw the conclusion that the SOS-dan's been sitting on information from? I'm not saying he's wrong, mind, just that there doesn't seem to be anything in what Smiley said to give him that idea.
Now, I figure that from the Brigade's perspective, the reavers are really just a pretext for laying the groundwork to deal with later, more serious problems, and they had to wait this long so that people would even be willing to consider it as an option.
The reasoning behind Nagato's breaking cover is twofold. First, she's really some sort of non-corporeal alien using a meat-puppet. What are they gonna do to her, use rude language? Second, unlike an individual or a fennish faction, an organisation of the size and mandate of the CIA will have both the resources and paranoia neccessary to follow up and plan for the kind of scenario she's warning of - no matter
how nuts it seems, it also accompanies enough real data to be granted at least a marginal amount of credit.
When/if that first contact happens, having those plans ready for use will be valuable.
Finally, the reason I, personally, think that the SOS-dan is going to pull this off is that...
Um. Did I forget to put that in? *checks*
...okay, implied but not clarified. DITE and Nagato know exactly what Handwavium is, how it works, and how to make it do exactly what they want. The time travelers likely do as well, if probably to a lesser degree. Either or both is likely willing to use, even
part with this knowledge if it keeps Haruhi happily harmless - from an intergalactic/temporal standpoint - for long enough for them to figure out what the heck is going on. The Reavers/Boskone'll make a good stick, but I think that that'd make a much
better carrot.
Ja, -n
===============================================
"Puripuri puripuri...
Bang!"
I'd been thinking of using Mikuru for Billy's contact point. Of course, there's four of them and more than four main characters here, so they'll have to talk to more than one each...
--Sam
"The ninja are strong in this city!"
Quote:
One question, though - where does 'Mal' draw the conclusion that the SOS-dan's been sitting on information from? I'm not saying he's wrong, mind, just that there doesn't seem to be anything in what Smiley said to give him that idea.
That would be... me being not particularly careful writing shit. I just couldn't bring myself to write the huge bodge of expository dialogue needed, hence the one-paragraph wonder there. I'll probably have to revise that at some point just so it lines up with everything else.---
Mr. Fnord
http://fnord.sandwich.net/
http://www.jihad.net/
Mr. Fnord
interdimensional man of mystery
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"