(July 7th - 8:24 am)
I'm not sure if it was a side affect of what I am now, or just the mistake of sleeping while running a systems diagnostic, but I had the weirdest dreams. Like most of my dreams I couldn't remember any of the details of it, but I know it wasn't that far removed from a sysiphean drug trip; boring, repetitive, and utterly confusing. I read over the feedback from the diagnostic and was pleasantly surprised by how many things came back 'operational'.
When I was first flung across the dimensions, I had arrived in paragon city disoriented and damaged from the middle of a battlefield. To say that my initial reaction could have been better was an understatement. Waking up this time in a secluded location, and with a confusing mishmash of memories, was much more preferable. My internal teleport matrix was online and operational, though tossing several errors about not finding any of the Medicom or Supergroup networks. The shield projectors reported back as fully operational. The C&C modules were up and running, but reporting back error after error as they failed to establish a connection to any of my bots, the construction equipment in my small corner of SGbase, or any of the standard trusted communication channels I used. My internal repair systems were reporting back a higher than normal concentration of biological contaminants throughout my systems, but aside from that perfectly fine. I didn't think too hard or long on what that was.
My own little section of PocketSpace (copyright Aeon Corp, all rights reserved) was still accessible, not that I was all that surprised. I had to take apart and put back together three of the official, space warping, magi-tech infused, Aeon Corp black boxes before I understood the principles behind them enough to duplicate it. Getting the same affect out of my teleportation matrix had not been an easy or cheap task, but now it was worth every penny. Sadly, not because I had a plethora of raw materials at hand (all I had in it was my laser rifle and arachnos mace). But because it would make gathering parts and materials to construct replacement bots here much much easier.
Knowing what I had in terms of resources, while a little depressing, calmed some of the fears that had been circling in the back of my mind. I knew where I stood. And I knew where to go next, Amazon and Newegg. It is truly wonderful the things you can legally acquire without having to ever see another person face to face. I spent the better part of the morning bouncing between 'ooh need one of those' and wincing at what it would do to my bank account. Emergency band radios, car batteries, waterproof containers, solar panels, mini pc boards, wireless cards, and an assortment of other gear took a significant chunk out of my savings. But it would be worth it for peace of mind, and that is exactly what I would get once this was all done.
Once I was done with my not so little shopping spree I got around to checking my email. A reply from my boss at work telling to me take a few days off, and telecommute if I wanted to. No need to get the rest of engineering sick with whatever I had. That brought a wry smile to my face and laugh to my lips. A laugh that died half way through when I heard the sound of my own voice.
"Oh this isn't right." But I knew that to be a lie as soon as I had said it. Some part of me insisted that I always had sounded like the love child of a high end speech synthesizer and the brass section of a band. As I sat there and quietly freaked out about how I sounded I realized that more than just my voice had slipped past my notice. I was sitting the attic of a foreclosed home, laying the groundwork for a long term conflict with the local authorities, and making as little noise as possible.
Granted all of these things were probably not bad ideas given the shaky status of my personal rights. But I should have had to think through this, instead it was just second nature.
Further navel gazing was put on hold when I saw the second new message in my inbox. It was from Terrence consisting of roughly equal parts vague and urgent. The timing and phrasing were enough to send up a few red flags and make me question my initial assumption that I had arrived just as alone here as I had in paragon. Hitting the DW forums showed a thread full of oblique references and half hidden hints. I didn't post there myself, some part of me was not comfortable at all with linking myself to what had happened on a public forum. But I did shoot a reply to Terrence, little more than 'Doesn't look like your dreaming, or alone' along with a link.
The realization that others might have come across as well had me quickly setting up another email account with a much more familiar handle. I fired off a quick email to any and all contacts from the infamous that I could think of. Nothing that would make sense if there was someone else using the email id, but enough to let any of my former SGmates know I was up and about.
"Bubbles and Lasery Death are eager to meet you.
Feeling a little lacking in the laser department.
I can keep you up and feeling strong when things get hot and heavy"
Even if someone did find that after the fact, I doubted they would consider it anything more than one more piece of spam from a malfunctioning botnet somewhere. While keeping an eye on my email client for any replies I pulled up google streetview. If there were other heroes here, it was all the more important that I had a defensible base and production facilities. The attic I was currently hiding in counted as neither, I needed an abandoned office building. And I had a good eight or nine hours to find one before I could head out tonight.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
I'm not sure if it was a side affect of what I am now, or just the mistake of sleeping while running a systems diagnostic, but I had the weirdest dreams. Like most of my dreams I couldn't remember any of the details of it, but I know it wasn't that far removed from a sysiphean drug trip; boring, repetitive, and utterly confusing. I read over the feedback from the diagnostic and was pleasantly surprised by how many things came back 'operational'.
When I was first flung across the dimensions, I had arrived in paragon city disoriented and damaged from the middle of a battlefield. To say that my initial reaction could have been better was an understatement. Waking up this time in a secluded location, and with a confusing mishmash of memories, was much more preferable. My internal teleport matrix was online and operational, though tossing several errors about not finding any of the Medicom or Supergroup networks. The shield projectors reported back as fully operational. The C&C modules were up and running, but reporting back error after error as they failed to establish a connection to any of my bots, the construction equipment in my small corner of SGbase, or any of the standard trusted communication channels I used. My internal repair systems were reporting back a higher than normal concentration of biological contaminants throughout my systems, but aside from that perfectly fine. I didn't think too hard or long on what that was.
My own little section of PocketSpace (copyright Aeon Corp, all rights reserved) was still accessible, not that I was all that surprised. I had to take apart and put back together three of the official, space warping, magi-tech infused, Aeon Corp black boxes before I understood the principles behind them enough to duplicate it. Getting the same affect out of my teleportation matrix had not been an easy or cheap task, but now it was worth every penny. Sadly, not because I had a plethora of raw materials at hand (all I had in it was my laser rifle and arachnos mace). But because it would make gathering parts and materials to construct replacement bots here much much easier.
Knowing what I had in terms of resources, while a little depressing, calmed some of the fears that had been circling in the back of my mind. I knew where I stood. And I knew where to go next, Amazon and Newegg. It is truly wonderful the things you can legally acquire without having to ever see another person face to face. I spent the better part of the morning bouncing between 'ooh need one of those' and wincing at what it would do to my bank account. Emergency band radios, car batteries, waterproof containers, solar panels, mini pc boards, wireless cards, and an assortment of other gear took a significant chunk out of my savings. But it would be worth it for peace of mind, and that is exactly what I would get once this was all done.
Once I was done with my not so little shopping spree I got around to checking my email. A reply from my boss at work telling to me take a few days off, and telecommute if I wanted to. No need to get the rest of engineering sick with whatever I had. That brought a wry smile to my face and laugh to my lips. A laugh that died half way through when I heard the sound of my own voice.
"Oh this isn't right." But I knew that to be a lie as soon as I had said it. Some part of me insisted that I always had sounded like the love child of a high end speech synthesizer and the brass section of a band. As I sat there and quietly freaked out about how I sounded I realized that more than just my voice had slipped past my notice. I was sitting the attic of a foreclosed home, laying the groundwork for a long term conflict with the local authorities, and making as little noise as possible.
Granted all of these things were probably not bad ideas given the shaky status of my personal rights. But I should have had to think through this, instead it was just second nature.
Further navel gazing was put on hold when I saw the second new message in my inbox. It was from Terrence consisting of roughly equal parts vague and urgent. The timing and phrasing were enough to send up a few red flags and make me question my initial assumption that I had arrived just as alone here as I had in paragon. Hitting the DW forums showed a thread full of oblique references and half hidden hints. I didn't post there myself, some part of me was not comfortable at all with linking myself to what had happened on a public forum. But I did shoot a reply to Terrence, little more than 'Doesn't look like your dreaming, or alone' along with a link.
The realization that others might have come across as well had me quickly setting up another email account with a much more familiar handle. I fired off a quick email to any and all contacts from the infamous that I could think of. Nothing that would make sense if there was someone else using the email id, but enough to let any of my former SGmates know I was up and about.
"Bubbles and Lasery Death are eager to meet you.
Feeling a little lacking in the laser department.
I can keep you up and feeling strong when things get hot and heavy"
Even if someone did find that after the fact, I doubted they would consider it anything more than one more piece of spam from a malfunctioning botnet somewhere. While keeping an eye on my email client for any replies I pulled up google streetview. If there were other heroes here, it was all the more important that I had a defensible base and production facilities. The attic I was currently hiding in counted as neither, I needed an abandoned office building. And I had a good eight or nine hours to find one before I could head out tonight.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy