Today's installment is uninspired, for reasons that have to do with me spending far too much time on finishing Suikoden V.
Rip.
Yank.
Pull.
Kick the hell out of an obstinate bit of warped plating.
I remember, way back during the time I didn't have to worry about getting shot up, hunted down, thrown randomly across Realities, occasionally facing insane beings with delusions of godhood ... you know, the 'fun' stuff, I did a bit of a team building exercise for extra credit in college.
The whole thing centered around the premise of surviving after living through a plane crash. The setting being a desert and a hundred or so miles away from civilization.
Now, what you should most definitely not do in such a case is to get away from the wreck and try to find your own way to 'safety'. Everything else aside, the heap of scrap your ride's turned itself into is a hell of a bullseye. You want to be found as soon as possible? Stay close to the plane and manage what you've got so that it last you the longest amount of time possible.
The immediate problem with that approach, given the present situation, should be obvious.
I wasn't sure I wanted to be found.
This was compounded by the fact that some bits and pieced of Ulysses' hardware managed to survive, more or less. The memory banks that collected what the sensor suite saw being one of those bits.
Putting them in, I'd intended to have them gather reference material during the Crossing. If I landed off-target, I'd hoped to see what went wrong and do better on the next try.
Well, I did land off target. Jinx. The sensors were now slag, having been the first thing to go during reentry. What they did record, though, was still intact. Enough of the insides remained functional to view them, which I did.
Ironically, the optical bundles were the least important to me when putting the Ulysses together. Now, visuals were the most important part of the data.
The initial intention behind that had been to find maybe a town in the vicinity. Or, at the very least, find out which direction I'd have to travel in.
What I got was not very heartening at all.
War rarely is.
Or was it a series of wars?
Image resolution at the kind of magnification I'd been working with hadn't been the best, but it was enough to tell that there was fighting going on. Troop concentrations, old battlefields, even what looked like active battle ...
And as if I needed more problems to make things 'interesting' ...
"... am I, dead?"
... my unexpected passenger ended up coming to with the firm belief that she'd just died.
Can't you just feel the love?
like before, more tomorrow at the latest. Now, breakfast.
-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
Rip.
Yank.
Pull.
Kick the hell out of an obstinate bit of warped plating.
I remember, way back during the time I didn't have to worry about getting shot up, hunted down, thrown randomly across Realities, occasionally facing insane beings with delusions of godhood ... you know, the 'fun' stuff, I did a bit of a team building exercise for extra credit in college.
The whole thing centered around the premise of surviving after living through a plane crash. The setting being a desert and a hundred or so miles away from civilization.
Now, what you should most definitely not do in such a case is to get away from the wreck and try to find your own way to 'safety'. Everything else aside, the heap of scrap your ride's turned itself into is a hell of a bullseye. You want to be found as soon as possible? Stay close to the plane and manage what you've got so that it last you the longest amount of time possible.
The immediate problem with that approach, given the present situation, should be obvious.
I wasn't sure I wanted to be found.
This was compounded by the fact that some bits and pieced of Ulysses' hardware managed to survive, more or less. The memory banks that collected what the sensor suite saw being one of those bits.
Putting them in, I'd intended to have them gather reference material during the Crossing. If I landed off-target, I'd hoped to see what went wrong and do better on the next try.
Well, I did land off target. Jinx. The sensors were now slag, having been the first thing to go during reentry. What they did record, though, was still intact. Enough of the insides remained functional to view them, which I did.
Ironically, the optical bundles were the least important to me when putting the Ulysses together. Now, visuals were the most important part of the data.
The initial intention behind that had been to find maybe a town in the vicinity. Or, at the very least, find out which direction I'd have to travel in.
What I got was not very heartening at all.
War rarely is.
Or was it a series of wars?
Image resolution at the kind of magnification I'd been working with hadn't been the best, but it was enough to tell that there was fighting going on. Troop concentrations, old battlefields, even what looked like active battle ...
And as if I needed more problems to make things 'interesting' ...
"... am I, dead?"
... my unexpected passenger ended up coming to with the firm belief that she'd just died.
Can't you just feel the love?
like before, more tomorrow at the latest. Now, breakfast.
-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