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+{"documenter":{"julia_version":"1.10.1","generation_timestamp":"2024-02-20T15:21:25","documenter_version":"1.2.1"}} \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/dev/assets/documenter.js b/assets/documenter.js similarity index 100% rename from dev/assets/documenter.js rename to assets/documenter.js diff --git a/dev/assets/themes/documenter-dark.css b/assets/themes/documenter-dark.css similarity index 100% rename from dev/assets/themes/documenter-dark.css rename to assets/themes/documenter-dark.css diff --git a/dev/assets/themes/documenter-light.css b/assets/themes/documenter-light.css similarity index 100% rename from dev/assets/themes/documenter-light.css rename to assets/themes/documenter-light.css diff --git a/dev/assets/themeswap.js b/assets/themeswap.js similarity index 100% rename from dev/assets/themeswap.js rename to assets/themeswap.js diff --git a/dev/assets/warner.js b/assets/warner.js similarity index 100% rename from dev/assets/warner.js rename to assets/warner.js diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/01/index.html b/content/2020/December/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/01/index.html rename to content/2020/December/01/index.html index a709c82..7c7f9f4 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/01/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Genie Order · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Genie Ordero

Genies are creatures of immense magical power, capable of granting almost any wish. What most people don't know is that the genie trade is actually the world's longest-standing pyramid scheme – both because we were created in ancient Egypt and because our goal is to actively recruit more genies.

See, every genie was a human who wished to become a genie for some reason or another. Some want immortality. Others want magic. A few people just want to escape from their lives and are willing to do whatever it takes to do so.

I joined the genie ranks for none of those reasons. Simply put, I was a lawyer in my last life and I found the limitations of magic law to be utterly fascinating.

Why can genies only grant 3 wishes? Why is it that granted wishes are always technically fulfilled, but wrong in spirit? Where does the magic come from? Is it hiding in the lamp?

Let me try to answer these questions...

All magic comes from the same source: a coalition of genies run by the Genie Board. When summoned, every genie is given a magical reservoir that is allotted for up to 3 wishes; however, the size of the reservoir changes based on how many genies they have recruited. In addition, we are provided an annual bonus based on the amount of magic left over after every wish session. In order to stretch the magic to its limits, genies will often use the least magic possible on every wish to save up for the next one and return some back for their bonus. This means that each wish is usually only partially fulfilled.

Now, you might be wondering why genies don't just ask their summoners to wish to become genies. After all, this would not only increase their magical reservoir, but also end the wish session, sending all magic back for their bonus. This is because there are also restrictions on human-genie interactions imposed on us by the board:

  1. We are not allowed to request wishes
  2. Every wish must undergo peer review by at least one genie reviewer
  3. We are not allowed to discuss where magic comes from or how much magic we have left for remaining wishes.

There are a few more restrictions, but these are the major ones. For now, I want to briefly describe how the Genie Order is different than the rest of the Genie Coalition:

  1. We get our annual bonus from a different source, so there is no need to save magic at the end of every wish session.
  2. We pledge to always grant wishes in their entirety. This means we might need to ask probing questions to ensure that the human wishes for precisely what they actually want. No more, no less.
  3. We usually request another member of the Genie Order for review because our standards are higher. We do not want the wish to be merely technically fulfilled, but also to make the human happy because of their wishes.
  4. If anyone wishes to become a genie, we must – and I mean must – also ask how much magic they want. This skirts around the genie board's requirements because we are not explaining how magic works, only asking if they want a lot of it. Usually, they do.

Point 4 is very important, so let me explain it a bit further.

Because we must fulfill wishes in their entirety, we must provide extra magic to each of the new recruits, and this magic must go somewhere, so where does it go? Well, into the coffers of the Genie Order instead of the Coalition. This magic is used to not only make our wishes better, but also to pay for our annual bonuses, which is often higher than those in the Genie Coalition.

Also, because we are only peer reviewing other members of the Genie Order, we can ensure that every human is happy with the outcome of their wishes and that no one outside the order knows where the excess magic goes.

If I'm honest, the entire idea is a bit of a legal loophole, but I'm happy to use it to help people out.

And now, as my new recruit, I cannot wait to see what you do! Let's make the world a better place together!

Prompt: You are a sympathetic genie.

+The Genie Order · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Genie Ordero

Genies are creatures of immense magical power, capable of granting almost any wish. What most people don't know is that the genie trade is actually the world's longest-standing pyramid scheme – both because we were created in ancient Egypt and because our goal is to actively recruit more genies.

See, every genie was a human who wished to become a genie for some reason or another. Some want immortality. Others want magic. A few people just want to escape from their lives and are willing to do whatever it takes to do so.

I joined the genie ranks for none of those reasons. Simply put, I was a lawyer in my last life and I found the limitations of magic law to be utterly fascinating.

Why can genies only grant 3 wishes? Why is it that granted wishes are always technically fulfilled, but wrong in spirit? Where does the magic come from? Is it hiding in the lamp?

Let me try to answer these questions...

All magic comes from the same source: a coalition of genies run by the Genie Board. When summoned, every genie is given a magical reservoir that is allotted for up to 3 wishes; however, the size of the reservoir changes based on how many genies they have recruited. In addition, we are provided an annual bonus based on the amount of magic left over after every wish session. In order to stretch the magic to its limits, genies will often use the least magic possible on every wish to save up for the next one and return some back for their bonus. This means that each wish is usually only partially fulfilled.

Now, you might be wondering why genies don't just ask their summoners to wish to become genies. After all, this would not only increase their magical reservoir, but also end the wish session, sending all magic back for their bonus. This is because there are also restrictions on human-genie interactions imposed on us by the board:

  1. We are not allowed to request wishes
  2. Every wish must undergo peer review by at least one genie reviewer
  3. We are not allowed to discuss where magic comes from or how much magic we have left for remaining wishes.

There are a few more restrictions, but these are the major ones. For now, I want to briefly describe how the Genie Order is different than the rest of the Genie Coalition:

  1. We get our annual bonus from a different source, so there is no need to save magic at the end of every wish session.
  2. We pledge to always grant wishes in their entirety. This means we might need to ask probing questions to ensure that the human wishes for precisely what they actually want. No more, no less.
  3. We usually request another member of the Genie Order for review because our standards are higher. We do not want the wish to be merely technically fulfilled, but also to make the human happy because of their wishes.
  4. If anyone wishes to become a genie, we must – and I mean must – also ask how much magic they want. This skirts around the genie board's requirements because we are not explaining how magic works, only asking if they want a lot of it. Usually, they do.

Point 4 is very important, so let me explain it a bit further.

Because we must fulfill wishes in their entirety, we must provide extra magic to each of the new recruits, and this magic must go somewhere, so where does it go? Well, into the coffers of the Genie Order instead of the Coalition. This magic is used to not only make our wishes better, but also to pay for our annual bonuses, which is often higher than those in the Genie Coalition.

Also, because we are only peer reviewing other members of the Genie Order, we can ensure that every human is happy with the outcome of their wishes and that no one outside the order knows where the excess magic goes.

If I'm honest, the entire idea is a bit of a legal loophole, but I'm happy to use it to help people out.

And now, as my new recruit, I cannot wait to see what you do! Let's make the world a better place together!

Prompt: You are a sympathetic genie.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/02/index.html b/content/2020/December/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/02/index.html rename to content/2020/December/02/index.html index f72db02..0dea536 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/02/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Angel of Mercy · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Angel of Mercy

The world is a confusing place. Throughout the ages, humanity has created a number of different rules through which they have come to understand how everything works. Many of these theories came in the form of religions with a varying number of deities associated with them. What humans didn’t know is that through the creation of these religions, they have also inspired the creation of the gods, themselves.

Simply put, without religion, gods do not exist; however, when a new religion is created, a new god is also created for that belief system. The god’s strength is determined based on the number of believers. This means that certain religions and their corresponding gods have dominated the world for ages, while other religions and their corresponding gods have died out.

As more and more deities have come into existence, there has been a need for more order within Olympus, the mountain where all gods make their home. As such, the Order of the Gods has been created to deal with day-to-day dealings. The Order acts through angels, such that the gods, themselves, never need to directly interact with humans. This is a rule that all gods have agreed to follow because they are in competition with one another, and if a god were to be seen by a human, the belief in that god would become much stronger, and so would the god’s influence.

I have been given the role of an Angel of Mercy. This means that my job is to save the lives of certain believers; however, I do not work for any god in particular.

One day, I was given a job to save the life of a gentleman by the name of John Doe. For some reason, the seal on the scroll was signed “urgent.” It is unusual that a god cares so much about their individual followers that saving a single one is important, so it was surprising to me when I found out that John was no more than an average man, not a pastor or priest leading people to worship.

As always, my missions start with a little reconnaissance. I need to figure out who is endangering the lives of my clientele. After that, I need to find a way to keep everyone alive. I am distinctly not allowed to kill anyone. I am only allowed to prevent people from dying.

As I studied John, I realized he was really down on his luck. He had lost his job and his girlfriend and was struggling to keep himself alive. As the days went by, he stopped eating regularly and rarely left his house. He began scribbling notes that he would leave for himself, all of which reminded him to do basic chores, like brushing his teeth and showering. Every morning, he would wake up and curse his very existence before falling back asleep and doing nothing productive all day.

At some point I realized who would kill John: John, himself.

I didn’t know how much time I had before the event, so I did what I thought was best and appeared to him in a dream.

“John,” I called. “Speak to me.”

There was no answer. Even in his dreams, he had no motivation.

The dream was different than any other I had ever been in. Usually, the dreamer expresses themselves in some way, but not this time. John literally dreamed himself into a dark void to escape a reality that he didn’t even properly live in.

So I did something a little unusual, I provided some form of creative expression of my own. I began showing John what the world would be like without him.

Immediately, the apartment around him was emptied and the family that would have lived there without John’s existence appeared. The air was filled with the scent of a home-cooked meal, and a child was bouncing in her chair at the table, begging for food. A well-dressed husband just entered and kissed his wife before entering the main bedroom.

“What is this?” Asked John.

I didn’t say anything. The apartment John lived in certainly looked a lot better without him.

“What is this?” John asked again. “Where am I?”

“This is a world without you. One where you were never born.” I said.

“Why is it so…” He paused for a second, struggling to find the word. “Happy?”

“Well…” I shrugged a bit. “This is just your apartment. I am sure other places are much worse without you.”

So we travelled together to each and every person John had ever met. Every single one of them appeared to be better off without ever knowing of John’s existence. As the day continued on, John found himself more and more distressed.

Eventually, he asked, “Why do I even wake up in the morning?”

Again, I didn’t know what to say. “I cannot answer that. You must look within yourself for the answer.”

He then said, “Maybe I should just continue to live here. In this weird dream where I never existed.”

I had honestly never seen a world that was so incredibly better off without a single individual, so I told him again, “You must choose how to live your life. I cannot tell you what is best.” At that point, I didn’t know what to do, so I left him to make the choice for himself.

The next day, I returned to Olympus, having failed in my duty to protect John. As I looked around, I noticed that there was also a single empty seat at the Order of the Gods.

The reason John was so important was that he was the last follower to a long-forgotten god. Now that he was gone, so too, was she.

Prompt: It seems a cruel juxtaposition to be in. You, an Angel of Mercy, have been tasked by God herself to keep this man from ending his own life, but when you show him what the world would be like without him, you both realize it would be better without him in it, not worse.

+The Angel of Mercy · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Angel of Mercy

The world is a confusing place. Throughout the ages, humanity has created a number of different rules through which they have come to understand how everything works. Many of these theories came in the form of religions with a varying number of deities associated with them. What humans didn’t know is that through the creation of these religions, they have also inspired the creation of the gods, themselves.

Simply put, without religion, gods do not exist; however, when a new religion is created, a new god is also created for that belief system. The god’s strength is determined based on the number of believers. This means that certain religions and their corresponding gods have dominated the world for ages, while other religions and their corresponding gods have died out.

As more and more deities have come into existence, there has been a need for more order within Olympus, the mountain where all gods make their home. As such, the Order of the Gods has been created to deal with day-to-day dealings. The Order acts through angels, such that the gods, themselves, never need to directly interact with humans. This is a rule that all gods have agreed to follow because they are in competition with one another, and if a god were to be seen by a human, the belief in that god would become much stronger, and so would the god’s influence.

I have been given the role of an Angel of Mercy. This means that my job is to save the lives of certain believers; however, I do not work for any god in particular.

One day, I was given a job to save the life of a gentleman by the name of John Doe. For some reason, the seal on the scroll was signed “urgent.” It is unusual that a god cares so much about their individual followers that saving a single one is important, so it was surprising to me when I found out that John was no more than an average man, not a pastor or priest leading people to worship.

As always, my missions start with a little reconnaissance. I need to figure out who is endangering the lives of my clientele. After that, I need to find a way to keep everyone alive. I am distinctly not allowed to kill anyone. I am only allowed to prevent people from dying.

As I studied John, I realized he was really down on his luck. He had lost his job and his girlfriend and was struggling to keep himself alive. As the days went by, he stopped eating regularly and rarely left his house. He began scribbling notes that he would leave for himself, all of which reminded him to do basic chores, like brushing his teeth and showering. Every morning, he would wake up and curse his very existence before falling back asleep and doing nothing productive all day.

At some point I realized who would kill John: John, himself.

I didn’t know how much time I had before the event, so I did what I thought was best and appeared to him in a dream.

“John,” I called. “Speak to me.”

There was no answer. Even in his dreams, he had no motivation.

The dream was different than any other I had ever been in. Usually, the dreamer expresses themselves in some way, but not this time. John literally dreamed himself into a dark void to escape a reality that he didn’t even properly live in.

So I did something a little unusual, I provided some form of creative expression of my own. I began showing John what the world would be like without him.

Immediately, the apartment around him was emptied and the family that would have lived there without John’s existence appeared. The air was filled with the scent of a home-cooked meal, and a child was bouncing in her chair at the table, begging for food. A well-dressed husband just entered and kissed his wife before entering the main bedroom.

“What is this?” Asked John.

I didn’t say anything. The apartment John lived in certainly looked a lot better without him.

“What is this?” John asked again. “Where am I?”

“This is a world without you. One where you were never born.” I said.

“Why is it so…” He paused for a second, struggling to find the word. “Happy?”

“Well…” I shrugged a bit. “This is just your apartment. I am sure other places are much worse without you.”

So we travelled together to each and every person John had ever met. Every single one of them appeared to be better off without ever knowing of John’s existence. As the day continued on, John found himself more and more distressed.

Eventually, he asked, “Why do I even wake up in the morning?”

Again, I didn’t know what to say. “I cannot answer that. You must look within yourself for the answer.”

He then said, “Maybe I should just continue to live here. In this weird dream where I never existed.”

I had honestly never seen a world that was so incredibly better off without a single individual, so I told him again, “You must choose how to live your life. I cannot tell you what is best.” At that point, I didn’t know what to do, so I left him to make the choice for himself.

The next day, I returned to Olympus, having failed in my duty to protect John. As I looked around, I noticed that there was also a single empty seat at the Order of the Gods.

The reason John was so important was that he was the last follower to a long-forgotten god. Now that he was gone, so too, was she.

Prompt: It seems a cruel juxtaposition to be in. You, an Angel of Mercy, have been tasked by God herself to keep this man from ending his own life, but when you show him what the world would be like without him, you both realize it would be better without him in it, not worse.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/03/index.html b/content/2020/December/03/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/03/index.html rename to content/2020/December/03/index.html index 2e50942..247dcb2 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/03/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/03/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Santa Stole the Money · Scribbleios
GitHub

Santa Stole the Money

Long ago, children wanted toys and treats, But now they seek random playstation feats. All of the kids just want games and gadgets, Things that can not be built with some hatchets. It used to be that with hardworking elves, Santa could replicate goods on the shelves.

Nowadays, even as he tried harder, The youth did not view his gifts with ardor. Though elves are smart, they couldn't really cope. They said to programming, "yeah... that's a nope." All the gadgets and gizmos needed skills. Santa needed money to pay the bills.

So he hatched some plans to collect money. He dressed elves in robes so they looked funny. He sent them to beg at stores all around, But the money they gained was not profound. "There must be a way to collect more cash..." Santa pondered while rubbing his mustache.

So he thought and he thought all day and night, And stress-ate so much that his pants were tight. He could not make toys that were good enough. Maybe it was time to start to act tough. He knew everything about everyone. Santa thought, "With this I can steal a ton!"

In the dead of night, while all were resting, There was a man, wide awake and testing. Throughout the world, he was known to be kind, But today was different, as they would find. If a chimney was attached to a bank... Santa would take the money, to be frank.

With the cash he gained from a single night, The kids were delivered their toys alright! But then after a little time elapsed... Well, the entire economy collapsed. So Santa's victory was bittersweet, He learned his lesson to no longer cheat.

Note: Not really happy with the rhymes and this one, so might come back to it later.

Prompt: Santa is strapped for cash this Christmas so this year before Christmas he Robs all the banks in the world in one night.

+Santa Stole the Money · Scribbleios
GitHub

Santa Stole the Money

Long ago, children wanted toys and treats, But now they seek random playstation feats. All of the kids just want games and gadgets, Things that can not be built with some hatchets. It used to be that with hardworking elves, Santa could replicate goods on the shelves.

Nowadays, even as he tried harder, The youth did not view his gifts with ardor. Though elves are smart, they couldn't really cope. They said to programming, "yeah... that's a nope." All the gadgets and gizmos needed skills. Santa needed money to pay the bills.

So he hatched some plans to collect money. He dressed elves in robes so they looked funny. He sent them to beg at stores all around, But the money they gained was not profound. "There must be a way to collect more cash..." Santa pondered while rubbing his mustache.

So he thought and he thought all day and night, And stress-ate so much that his pants were tight. He could not make toys that were good enough. Maybe it was time to start to act tough. He knew everything about everyone. Santa thought, "With this I can steal a ton!"

In the dead of night, while all were resting, There was a man, wide awake and testing. Throughout the world, he was known to be kind, But today was different, as they would find. If a chimney was attached to a bank... Santa would take the money, to be frank.

With the cash he gained from a single night, The kids were delivered their toys alright! But then after a little time elapsed... Well, the entire economy collapsed. So Santa's victory was bittersweet, He learned his lesson to no longer cheat.

Note: Not really happy with the rhymes and this one, so might come back to it later.

Prompt: Santa is strapped for cash this Christmas so this year before Christmas he Robs all the banks in the world in one night.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/04/index.html b/content/2020/December/04/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/04/index.html rename to content/2020/December/04/index.html index d8cb398..189c5a2 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/04/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/04/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Blind Dragon · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Blind Dragon

Dragons are known to be powerful, magical creatures that can destroy entire empires with a single breath of fire; however, they are also capable of transforming into any form they so please. This makes them even more dangerous, as they often masquerade as humans and walk through cities until a single sour glance incites them and they burn everything to the ground. Throughout the ages, several bloodlines have evolved the special skill to detect dragon-kind even when transformed, and because this is such a valuable skill, many of these family become royalty.

Such was the case of the Terra household, who I had the pleasure of meeting several years ago.

I was particularly fond of princess Talia Terra, the first-born child to King Terrence Terra who built his empire from a mere fishing village into the central mercantile nation in the world. As heir to the throne, she was taught what she needed to know to live in the world of royalty: everything from which fork goes where when dining to which people are most important to save in a crisis. Every day, she trained for hours to become the best ruler they had ever had. Her teachers were strict, her father was distant, and she was so, incredibly miserable.

This is where I concocted a bit of a plan.

See, I am a dragon, myself. A few centuries ago, back when I was in my rebellious teen-century phase, I found gold and gems to be beautiful and would raid local villages to steal everything they had. Looking back, I am somewhat ashamed of my actions, but what is done is done. One day, a rather haughty adventurer stopped by my cave and began swinging his sword and shouting the name of his attacks before performing them. I found the behavior peculiar, so I humored him a bit. After all, how likely was it that a human could do any damage at all to a dragon? As it turns out, it was very likely.

In a karmic twist of fate, the adventurer managed to stab both of my eyes, rendering me blind and unable to look upon the treasures I so loved. For the next century or two, I did a lot of reflecting. At first, I was furious that a human even dared to lay a finger on me, but after some time I realized that I was the aggressor, not him. More than that, the reason I would horde gold and treasure was because I was completely and totally alone and trying to fill the void in my heart.

I wanted to change that, soI spent time fumbling around my den until I learned to sense the world through magic, touch, sound, and smell. After some practicing, I found a technique to create a type of echo-location by sending waves of magic from my body and waiting for it to bounce off local object. It was not as good as my eyes were at finding things, but it would do.

One day, I took the form of a young teenage girl and began to meander about a local town. The world had changed drastically since the last time I was out and about, and even though I couldn't see anything, I was mesmerized by all the new and exotic scents humans had created. From bread baking in the oven to the sweet smell of roses lining their gateways, I couldn't help by follow my nose about. Before long, I found myself in a huge garden, filled with flowers of every kind.

"Hello?" A young woman called out to me from a few body-lengths away. "Who are you?"

"Ah." I was slightly startled, as I had never been properly addressed by a human before. "I'm just a traveler passing through."

The woman froze and said nothing, so I pressed further, "Am I not allowed to be here?"

Again, she said nothing, so I took a step forward, causing her to stumble while taking a step back and fall to the ground. She then began babbling a bit, "D-D-D-D..."

"Don't come closer?" I tried to complete her sentence. "Don't worry! I'm harmless!"

"Dragon!" She finished. She then turned around and started crawling away, clearly terrified.

"Ah, wait!" I called. "Yes. I am a dragon, but don't worry... I don't care about you or your village."

The woman grabbed onto a tree and rested her back on it. "Aren't you going to burn everything to the ground? Steal our gold? Don't you want... me?"

"Why would I want you?"

I could sense the woman's heart rate start to slow as she took a deep breath. "So you really don't want to... Do anything to me?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, kidnap me..." She paused before continuing, "strip me of my clothes, hold me ransom?"

"Maybe a few years ago I would have, but now I am just enjoying this garden. Who tends to it?"

"I do." She said.

"Ah, so you are the caretaker?"

"No, I am princess Talia Terra."

Suddenly everything she said before made sense. She thought I, a dragon, would want to kidnap her because she was a princess and I could hold her for ransom. "No, no. I'm blind. I don't need gold or treasures. I would love a garden like this, though."

After a while, I found myself sitting next to her and the two of us began talking for what seemed like hours. I came to realize she was equally unhappy with her life and wanted to change. All she wanted to do was tend to her garden and make perfume in peace.

Suddenly, I had an idea. "I'll tell you what, Talia. I'm lonely in my cave, and you have a good head on your shoulders. What if I kidnap you after all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you want to run away and grow a garden. I want a friend. We could both win if you just move in with me."

Suddenly, I felt her lean her head against my shoulder before she said, "I think I would like that."

So that's the story of how I kidnapped the princess because she smelled nice.

Prompt: As a blind dragon, you don't care for precious metals or stones. So your hoard of treasures are perfumes, scented candles, flowers, herbs, spices, shampoo, soaps, and anything that smells great to you. The princess was surprised that you just want her things and not her...

+The Blind Dragon · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Blind Dragon

Dragons are known to be powerful, magical creatures that can destroy entire empires with a single breath of fire; however, they are also capable of transforming into any form they so please. This makes them even more dangerous, as they often masquerade as humans and walk through cities until a single sour glance incites them and they burn everything to the ground. Throughout the ages, several bloodlines have evolved the special skill to detect dragon-kind even when transformed, and because this is such a valuable skill, many of these family become royalty.

Such was the case of the Terra household, who I had the pleasure of meeting several years ago.

I was particularly fond of princess Talia Terra, the first-born child to King Terrence Terra who built his empire from a mere fishing village into the central mercantile nation in the world. As heir to the throne, she was taught what she needed to know to live in the world of royalty: everything from which fork goes where when dining to which people are most important to save in a crisis. Every day, she trained for hours to become the best ruler they had ever had. Her teachers were strict, her father was distant, and she was so, incredibly miserable.

This is where I concocted a bit of a plan.

See, I am a dragon, myself. A few centuries ago, back when I was in my rebellious teen-century phase, I found gold and gems to be beautiful and would raid local villages to steal everything they had. Looking back, I am somewhat ashamed of my actions, but what is done is done. One day, a rather haughty adventurer stopped by my cave and began swinging his sword and shouting the name of his attacks before performing them. I found the behavior peculiar, so I humored him a bit. After all, how likely was it that a human could do any damage at all to a dragon? As it turns out, it was very likely.

In a karmic twist of fate, the adventurer managed to stab both of my eyes, rendering me blind and unable to look upon the treasures I so loved. For the next century or two, I did a lot of reflecting. At first, I was furious that a human even dared to lay a finger on me, but after some time I realized that I was the aggressor, not him. More than that, the reason I would horde gold and treasure was because I was completely and totally alone and trying to fill the void in my heart.

I wanted to change that, soI spent time fumbling around my den until I learned to sense the world through magic, touch, sound, and smell. After some practicing, I found a technique to create a type of echo-location by sending waves of magic from my body and waiting for it to bounce off local object. It was not as good as my eyes were at finding things, but it would do.

One day, I took the form of a young teenage girl and began to meander about a local town. The world had changed drastically since the last time I was out and about, and even though I couldn't see anything, I was mesmerized by all the new and exotic scents humans had created. From bread baking in the oven to the sweet smell of roses lining their gateways, I couldn't help by follow my nose about. Before long, I found myself in a huge garden, filled with flowers of every kind.

"Hello?" A young woman called out to me from a few body-lengths away. "Who are you?"

"Ah." I was slightly startled, as I had never been properly addressed by a human before. "I'm just a traveler passing through."

The woman froze and said nothing, so I pressed further, "Am I not allowed to be here?"

Again, she said nothing, so I took a step forward, causing her to stumble while taking a step back and fall to the ground. She then began babbling a bit, "D-D-D-D..."

"Don't come closer?" I tried to complete her sentence. "Don't worry! I'm harmless!"

"Dragon!" She finished. She then turned around and started crawling away, clearly terrified.

"Ah, wait!" I called. "Yes. I am a dragon, but don't worry... I don't care about you or your village."

The woman grabbed onto a tree and rested her back on it. "Aren't you going to burn everything to the ground? Steal our gold? Don't you want... me?"

"Why would I want you?"

I could sense the woman's heart rate start to slow as she took a deep breath. "So you really don't want to... Do anything to me?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, kidnap me..." She paused before continuing, "strip me of my clothes, hold me ransom?"

"Maybe a few years ago I would have, but now I am just enjoying this garden. Who tends to it?"

"I do." She said.

"Ah, so you are the caretaker?"

"No, I am princess Talia Terra."

Suddenly everything she said before made sense. She thought I, a dragon, would want to kidnap her because she was a princess and I could hold her for ransom. "No, no. I'm blind. I don't need gold or treasures. I would love a garden like this, though."

After a while, I found myself sitting next to her and the two of us began talking for what seemed like hours. I came to realize she was equally unhappy with her life and wanted to change. All she wanted to do was tend to her garden and make perfume in peace.

Suddenly, I had an idea. "I'll tell you what, Talia. I'm lonely in my cave, and you have a good head on your shoulders. What if I kidnap you after all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you want to run away and grow a garden. I want a friend. We could both win if you just move in with me."

Suddenly, I felt her lean her head against my shoulder before she said, "I think I would like that."

So that's the story of how I kidnapped the princess because she smelled nice.

Prompt: As a blind dragon, you don't care for precious metals or stones. So your hoard of treasures are perfumes, scented candles, flowers, herbs, spices, shampoo, soaps, and anything that smells great to you. The princess was surprised that you just want her things and not her...

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/05/index.html b/content/2020/December/05/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/05/index.html rename to content/2020/December/05/index.html index fc54fce..d766df5 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/05/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/05/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Rhyming Truths · Scribbleios
GitHub

Rhyming Truths

To rhyme all the time is woeful curse, But in all honesty, it could be worse! When I found the withered monkey's paw, At first, I stared at it in utter awe! I thought long and hard about what to say, But it still got me and turned me this way. I wished that everything I said came true, But I started to rhyme out of the blue!

I figured this meant I got my power. I could rule the world! Make bullies cower! I could warp reality to my whim, Or force my folks to say, "I'm proud of him!" I jumped in the shower and had a thought, I could stop battles before they were fought! My newfound power could usher in peace! But wouldn't that make a weird space-time crease?

I couldn't risk changing the world too much, I had seen this trope in movies and such. I thought I should start with little white truths, Things to help me out with my fellow youths. I stepped out of the shower, steam arose. I looked into the mirror and then froze. "That is perfect," I thought, "Let me do that." My body was gross. I could trim my fat.

"You are thin, fit, and beautiful to boot, When people look at you, they give a hoot!" I really should have paid more attention... My body changed in water retention! After the change, I became a cute girl, I looked at myself and did a quick twirl. I thought to myself, "This isn't half bad, I wonder if my parents would be mad..."

"You have always been cute, attractive, and smart. You excel in math, history, and art. You are the fastest swimmer in the pool, And there is no one that calls you a fool." Soon, all the memories came flooding in, "You are happy," I thought, "Always have been." I knew it was wrong, but it felt so right... So I couldn't help but squeal in delight.

When I went downstairs, I saw my dad too, He then hugged me and said, "I'm proud of you." My powers are awesome, mighty, and great, But I kinda just wanted a clean slate. When I was the old me, I was a dunce, I really wanted happiness for once. Now that it's found, I do not want to change. I'll do my best not to say something strange.

I'm trying to get better with poetry! Sorry!

Prompt: Anything you say comes true, but with a catch...your sentences need to rhyme.

+Rhyming Truths · Scribbleios
GitHub

Rhyming Truths

To rhyme all the time is woeful curse, But in all honesty, it could be worse! When I found the withered monkey's paw, At first, I stared at it in utter awe! I thought long and hard about what to say, But it still got me and turned me this way. I wished that everything I said came true, But I started to rhyme out of the blue!

I figured this meant I got my power. I could rule the world! Make bullies cower! I could warp reality to my whim, Or force my folks to say, "I'm proud of him!" I jumped in the shower and had a thought, I could stop battles before they were fought! My newfound power could usher in peace! But wouldn't that make a weird space-time crease?

I couldn't risk changing the world too much, I had seen this trope in movies and such. I thought I should start with little white truths, Things to help me out with my fellow youths. I stepped out of the shower, steam arose. I looked into the mirror and then froze. "That is perfect," I thought, "Let me do that." My body was gross. I could trim my fat.

"You are thin, fit, and beautiful to boot, When people look at you, they give a hoot!" I really should have paid more attention... My body changed in water retention! After the change, I became a cute girl, I looked at myself and did a quick twirl. I thought to myself, "This isn't half bad, I wonder if my parents would be mad..."

"You have always been cute, attractive, and smart. You excel in math, history, and art. You are the fastest swimmer in the pool, And there is no one that calls you a fool." Soon, all the memories came flooding in, "You are happy," I thought, "Always have been." I knew it was wrong, but it felt so right... So I couldn't help but squeal in delight.

When I went downstairs, I saw my dad too, He then hugged me and said, "I'm proud of you." My powers are awesome, mighty, and great, But I kinda just wanted a clean slate. When I was the old me, I was a dunce, I really wanted happiness for once. Now that it's found, I do not want to change. I'll do my best not to say something strange.

I'm trying to get better with poetry! Sorry!

Prompt: Anything you say comes true, but with a catch...your sentences need to rhyme.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/06/index.html b/content/2020/December/06/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/06/index.html rename to content/2020/December/06/index.html index 2fa5e6e..5b9bd0c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/06/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/06/index.html @@ -4,4 +4,4 @@ %s/me/us/g %s/serve/rule/g

I could only imagine these were the arcane commands of the text editor. I truly did not understand how anyone could use it effectively with that syntax, but that was beside the point. The whole thing was was somewhat ridiculous as they had to pronounce "%" as "percent" and "/" as "slash", but this continued for a few minutes until one member took a step towards the center of the circle. The leader then called my father and said:

%s/first-born//cg
-y?

After a brief moment of silence, one of the hooded figures, presumably my father, responded:

y

The central figure nodded before stepping out of the circle. They then said:

:w

and the circle responded

enter

I honestly had trouble understanding everything fully, but I caught the gist. My father became the chief technical officer because of his incorporation with the help of this cult, and as such the cult required the sacrifice of his first-born. Me.

Another member of the circle then said:

:q

to which the circle again responded:

enter

Wait, was that how you quit the text editor? That must be the least intuitive key binding imaginable!

As the circle began moving towards the door, and I stumbled a bit from my window view before running to my car. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to get out of there, and fast.

From that point further, no matter how many times my father invited me to his house, I never went. He was no longer the father I loved so much. The cult had warped him into someone else entirely – someone who was willing to throw away his common sense to embrace the facade of efficiency.

It just goes to show that there are crazy people in every profession. If you happen to know a developer who talks to you about text editing, please encourage them to take a more righteous path.

– Paid for by the Church of Emacs.

Prompt: A cult is trying to sacrifice you to your father.

+y?

After a brief moment of silence, one of the hooded figures, presumably my father, responded:

y

The central figure nodded before stepping out of the circle. They then said:

:w

and the circle responded

enter

I honestly had trouble understanding everything fully, but I caught the gist. My father became the chief technical officer because of his incorporation with the help of this cult, and as such the cult required the sacrifice of his first-born. Me.

Another member of the circle then said:

:q

to which the circle again responded:

enter

Wait, was that how you quit the text editor? That must be the least intuitive key binding imaginable!

As the circle began moving towards the door, and I stumbled a bit from my window view before running to my car. I didn't know what to do, but I knew I had to get out of there, and fast.

From that point further, no matter how many times my father invited me to his house, I never went. He was no longer the father I loved so much. The cult had warped him into someone else entirely – someone who was willing to throw away his common sense to embrace the facade of efficiency.

It just goes to show that there are crazy people in every profession. If you happen to know a developer who talks to you about text editing, please encourage them to take a more righteous path.

– Paid for by the Church of Emacs.

Prompt: A cult is trying to sacrifice you to your father.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/07/index.html b/content/2020/December/07/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/07/index.html rename to content/2020/December/07/index.html index acb08ca..ef47829 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/07/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/07/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Jim · Scribbleios
GitHub

Jim

Among the bustling streets, there are many different kinds of people. A struggling single mother rushing to pick up her son from school. A business man in a suit and tie, smug about his most recent wall street bets. A homeless man begging for change while strumming a tune on his banjo. Every person has a clear objective and purpose drawn on their face.

However, even in the crowd of hundreds of rational, thinking individuals, there was one man who stood out. Someone who seemed to be completely out of touch with reality, constantly stumbling and bumbling into others while speaking to people that didn't exist and ignoring those who did. He existed as one of the great wonders of the city, and almost every person had a strange interaction with the man. No one knew his real name, so everyone called him "Jim."

There were rumors of Jim resisting arrest by ignoring the police entirely. There were rumors of Jim being so completely absorbed in conversation that he ignored muggings happening only feet away. The only problem was that the conversations were with a brick walls. There were rumors of Jim losing his wallet, only for it to be returned to him by pick-pocketers because there was nothing of any value inside of it. No one knew where he lived. No one had ever seen him eat. No one really understood how he had survived for so long.

He was a force of nature.

He was just "Jim."

Now, I wasn't one to believe any old rumor. I was sure 90% of them must be untrue – a way to poke fun at an old-timer with an eyepatch. So one day, I decided to see for myself.

As I was walking around town, I stopped a random person, a young lady with a pink blouse, and asked, "Hey. Have you seen Jim around today?"

"Ah yeah. He's on Elm Street talking to the trees again. The guy's insane!"

I laughed and agreed before making a beeline towards where he should have been, and sure enough, there he was next to a house and somewhat busy street, waving his arms emphatically and laughing while staring at a tree. No one around him would make eye contact. Some of them chuckled a bit as they walked by.

As I approached, I could hear snippets of his conversation. "That's exactly what I am saying!" He said, "How could Mrs. Jenkins have thought it was OK to just waltz into his house unannounced!" He then began laughing so hard that he had to wipe tears from his eyes before saying, "I tell you what! She's one of the best dancers I know!"

I was now close enough to touch him. Outside of the bizarre conversation he was having with himself, he looked like an ordinary old man He was well-dressed with a scraggly white beard and thinning hair. His voice was somewhat gruff, but affectionate. As I looked closer, I noticed that the eye without the patch seemed to have a weird purple ring around the iris, but nothing outrageous or flashy. Even at this distance, he did not seem to look at me.

"Hello?" I asked, while waving a bit. "I'm Jeff, could we..." I trailed off when I realized he still did not register my existence.

Instead, he continued his conversation, "... And then I said, 'if you are that upset about it, why not just jump of a cliff with the rest of 'em!'" before chuckling to himself. He then got really stern and began nodding before saying, "Ah. I'm sorry. I didn't know... Yeah. I'll be more careful next time."

Jim was clearly talking to someone, but who? I waved my hand directly in front of his face before circling around him. This man was definitely a mystery, but whatever. I couldn't spend all day musing about the musings of a madman.

I then tried to turn around, but tripped and fell into the street. I looked to my right, only to see a car screeching to a halt. I screamed. There was no time to move.

Was this it? Were these my final moments?

I suddenly felt a shock, as if jumping into a pool of cold water before the adrenaline kicked in and I leapt up, just before the car hit me. I frantically began cursing and apologizing to anyone who would listen while burying my hands in my hair. As I looked up, I noticed the world was eerily quiet. There were no people on the sidewalk, and the car seemed to have driven away.

The only person was Jim, who looked at me with a concerned face. "You OK, boy?"

"Yeah. Yeah." I said while trying to take deep breaths. "I'll be OK. I just barely missed that car."

Jim laughed a bit. "Car? What car?" He lifted his eye patch and looked to the empty street. He stared for a minute before continuing, "I see you made quite the scene."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it." He extended his hand to me. "I'm Jim. I'll show you around town."

I laughed a bit before shaking his hand. "I'm actually somewhat surprised Jim is your real name. Don't worry about showing me around. I've lived here all my life, but I'd be happy to talk to you more."

Jim chuckled to himself before saying, "Trust me. This isn't the town you once knew."

I shook my head at what I thought were the ramblings of a madman before looking around. The street was suddenly populated by people of all different shapes and sizes, wearing clothes from different eras of history. As they passed by, they nodded slightly to Jim, but stared warily at me. But there was something off about every one of them. They were ever-so-slightly translucent.

Next to Jim, I saw a man in his early thirties wearing a costume from the civil war. He stared at me with a rather stern expression before also extending his hand and saying, "I guess you are new here as well. I'm Greg. Jim and I were just talking about the weird ways people find themselves here. What happened to you?"

"What do you mean, what happened?" I asked.

"I mean... How did you, you know..." He scratched the back of his head, "Sorry, I know this is a sensitive topic to newcomers."

Jim took a deep breath, "He got run over."

It took me a second to piece everything together. The car that I thought I avoided actually hit me dead on, and I was now a spirit, haunting the world I once knew. Jim wasn't crazy, he just lived with the spirits.

"Hey Jim." I said, "I might need a guide after all."

Prompt: Everyone thinks old man Jim is crazy. He wears an eyepatch and talks to people who aren't there. You discover that each of his eyes sees a different world, one of them ours and one of them the spirit world. He's simply chosen to cover his view of the real world, and live among the apparitions.

+Jim · Scribbleios
GitHub

Jim

Among the bustling streets, there are many different kinds of people. A struggling single mother rushing to pick up her son from school. A business man in a suit and tie, smug about his most recent wall street bets. A homeless man begging for change while strumming a tune on his banjo. Every person has a clear objective and purpose drawn on their face.

However, even in the crowd of hundreds of rational, thinking individuals, there was one man who stood out. Someone who seemed to be completely out of touch with reality, constantly stumbling and bumbling into others while speaking to people that didn't exist and ignoring those who did. He existed as one of the great wonders of the city, and almost every person had a strange interaction with the man. No one knew his real name, so everyone called him "Jim."

There were rumors of Jim resisting arrest by ignoring the police entirely. There were rumors of Jim being so completely absorbed in conversation that he ignored muggings happening only feet away. The only problem was that the conversations were with a brick walls. There were rumors of Jim losing his wallet, only for it to be returned to him by pick-pocketers because there was nothing of any value inside of it. No one knew where he lived. No one had ever seen him eat. No one really understood how he had survived for so long.

He was a force of nature.

He was just "Jim."

Now, I wasn't one to believe any old rumor. I was sure 90% of them must be untrue – a way to poke fun at an old-timer with an eyepatch. So one day, I decided to see for myself.

As I was walking around town, I stopped a random person, a young lady with a pink blouse, and asked, "Hey. Have you seen Jim around today?"

"Ah yeah. He's on Elm Street talking to the trees again. The guy's insane!"

I laughed and agreed before making a beeline towards where he should have been, and sure enough, there he was next to a house and somewhat busy street, waving his arms emphatically and laughing while staring at a tree. No one around him would make eye contact. Some of them chuckled a bit as they walked by.

As I approached, I could hear snippets of his conversation. "That's exactly what I am saying!" He said, "How could Mrs. Jenkins have thought it was OK to just waltz into his house unannounced!" He then began laughing so hard that he had to wipe tears from his eyes before saying, "I tell you what! She's one of the best dancers I know!"

I was now close enough to touch him. Outside of the bizarre conversation he was having with himself, he looked like an ordinary old man He was well-dressed with a scraggly white beard and thinning hair. His voice was somewhat gruff, but affectionate. As I looked closer, I noticed that the eye without the patch seemed to have a weird purple ring around the iris, but nothing outrageous or flashy. Even at this distance, he did not seem to look at me.

"Hello?" I asked, while waving a bit. "I'm Jeff, could we..." I trailed off when I realized he still did not register my existence.

Instead, he continued his conversation, "... And then I said, 'if you are that upset about it, why not just jump of a cliff with the rest of 'em!'" before chuckling to himself. He then got really stern and began nodding before saying, "Ah. I'm sorry. I didn't know... Yeah. I'll be more careful next time."

Jim was clearly talking to someone, but who? I waved my hand directly in front of his face before circling around him. This man was definitely a mystery, but whatever. I couldn't spend all day musing about the musings of a madman.

I then tried to turn around, but tripped and fell into the street. I looked to my right, only to see a car screeching to a halt. I screamed. There was no time to move.

Was this it? Were these my final moments?

I suddenly felt a shock, as if jumping into a pool of cold water before the adrenaline kicked in and I leapt up, just before the car hit me. I frantically began cursing and apologizing to anyone who would listen while burying my hands in my hair. As I looked up, I noticed the world was eerily quiet. There were no people on the sidewalk, and the car seemed to have driven away.

The only person was Jim, who looked at me with a concerned face. "You OK, boy?"

"Yeah. Yeah." I said while trying to take deep breaths. "I'll be OK. I just barely missed that car."

Jim laughed a bit. "Car? What car?" He lifted his eye patch and looked to the empty street. He stared for a minute before continuing, "I see you made quite the scene."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it." He extended his hand to me. "I'm Jim. I'll show you around town."

I laughed a bit before shaking his hand. "I'm actually somewhat surprised Jim is your real name. Don't worry about showing me around. I've lived here all my life, but I'd be happy to talk to you more."

Jim chuckled to himself before saying, "Trust me. This isn't the town you once knew."

I shook my head at what I thought were the ramblings of a madman before looking around. The street was suddenly populated by people of all different shapes and sizes, wearing clothes from different eras of history. As they passed by, they nodded slightly to Jim, but stared warily at me. But there was something off about every one of them. They were ever-so-slightly translucent.

Next to Jim, I saw a man in his early thirties wearing a costume from the civil war. He stared at me with a rather stern expression before also extending his hand and saying, "I guess you are new here as well. I'm Greg. Jim and I were just talking about the weird ways people find themselves here. What happened to you?"

"What do you mean, what happened?" I asked.

"I mean... How did you, you know..." He scratched the back of his head, "Sorry, I know this is a sensitive topic to newcomers."

Jim took a deep breath, "He got run over."

It took me a second to piece everything together. The car that I thought I avoided actually hit me dead on, and I was now a spirit, haunting the world I once knew. Jim wasn't crazy, he just lived with the spirits.

"Hey Jim." I said, "I might need a guide after all."

Prompt: Everyone thinks old man Jim is crazy. He wears an eyepatch and talks to people who aren't there. You discover that each of his eyes sees a different world, one of them ours and one of them the spirit world. He's simply chosen to cover his view of the real world, and live among the apparitions.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/08/index.html b/content/2020/December/08/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/08/index.html rename to content/2020/December/08/index.html index f101f39..c7fdd28 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/08/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/08/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The American Hero · Scribbleios
GitHub

The American Hero

s is getting ridiculous! I've had to fight off five different hero parties so far this month!

Each and every one of them has some spiky-haired weirdo screaming gibberish with scantily-clad women supporting him, saying things like, "You can do it through the power of friendship!" or "You are the chosen one!" or "It's not like I like you or anything, Baka!" What does Baka even mean?

No matter the case, these adventuring parties have begun to wreak havoc on the demonic economy. In a few years, we have gone from a thriving metropolis that could harbor any number of refugees to the brink of collapse, ourselves. If this get any worse, I might have to consider small cuts to social services until we could get back on our feet. We pride ourselves on our health care and free collegiate education, but maybe cuts to infrastructure would be possible?

No. I could solve this without stripping basic rights from my citizens.

The real question was how humanity kept generating absurdly strong individuals at such a high rate. What were they doing?

After sending a minion to investigate, I found that these "heroes" were actually being summoned from some strange land known as "Japan." The minion had also scrawled down the summoning circle they used, so I figured it was time to fight fire with fire! We would begin summoning adventurers of our own!

One evening, I closed all the doors to my chambers and lit a few candles before starting to draw the circle prescribed by my minion. The only problem was that they had terrible handwriting, and I couldn't quite figure out the specific placement of certain strokes. I am almost certain I got some of the lines crossed, but after a few hours of tinkering, I was happy enough with the result to give it a try.

I took a deep breath and prayed to the dark gods that it would work before sending magical energy into the circle. Soon, the outer ring began to glow a brilliant blue before red and white streaks surged towards the center. I took a step back as the pattern began to hum and the castle walls began to vibrate.

I was shaken to the core and feared I had made a grave mistake, but after a few seconds of doubt, a huge plume of smoke erupted from the center of the circle with a loud explosion that sounded almost like the cry of an eagle. It was so powerful that it burst open the doors to the chamber and extinguished all the candles. I began coughing and waving the smoke away from my face, thinking that my experiment had failed.

However, as I looked closer, I began to make out the silhouette of a young man, clad in blue pants and a white shirt with the sleeves ripped off – clearly a display of strength, even though his arms were not particularly muscular. Atop his head was a red cap with a four word phrase in his native tongue, and his face was covered in a scraggly beard.

"Hello?" I called.

The man – the hero – began coughing and shouting what were undoubtedly expletives in his native tongue. I cast a translation spell so we could understand each other.

"Hello?" I called again.

"What the ever-livin' shit is this?" He shouted. "Where th' FUCK am I?"

"Ah, hello great hero!" I said while casting a wind spell to send the smoke away. I then snapped my fingers to light all the candles. "You have been summoned here to aid us in our quest!"

"What the FUCK?" he said again, "Is this some kinda magic show?"

"Show? No..." Did magic not exist in his universe? Was the circle wrong after all? "Sir, are you from Japan?"

"Weeabo land? Nah, I stay as far away from that shit as I can. I hear it turns ya gay."

I checked the parameters of my translation spell to make sure it was working correctly. Even after translation, I was not sure what he was saying. "Pray tell... Where are you from then?"

"Ah, 'round Montgomery."

"Is that a name of a city or town?"

"Yeah, Montgomery, Alabama. What are you, dumb? You know... Civil rights an' shit." He then spit out some sort of black goo from his mouth before muttering, "Biggest fucking mistake our country ever made."

I took a deep breath. This man was getting on my last nerve. He was arrogant and fool-hearted, but maybe those were the traits of a good hero? "Alabama. I see. It sounds like a fine country!"

"Where are you from, Europe? Who the fuck doesn't know Alabama? You know, 'Sweet Home Alabama'? In the US of A? I am from America, dipshit."

"Right. No. Ok. America, then." I still couldn't follow his speech patterns, but I felt I should continue nonetheless. "You have been summoned here to help us fight back against the enemy army. The road will be difficult, but will be paved with glory..."

"Woah now, bud." He took off his cap and slicked his hair to his scalp before putting it back on, "What kinda nonsense is this?"

"Sir, if you would just let me explain..."

"I think I get the gist. You are a weak European nation that needs American help. Damn socialists. If you had used the money you spent on health care on defense, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Now, wait. Hold on there." I took another breath while gritting my teeth, "It is not my citizen's fault that we are at war. I will not strip them of their basic human rights to fight battles they don't want to fight."

"Fucking libtard. Send me back. I ain't doin' this."

"Yeah, you are right about that." I snapped my fingers and incinerated him on the spot.

What a waste of time.

Moral of the story: Some people are not worth your time.

Prompt: Seeing the eficiency of adventurer parties, the Dark Lord decides to create one of his own.

+The American Hero · Scribbleios
GitHub

The American Hero

s is getting ridiculous! I've had to fight off five different hero parties so far this month!

Each and every one of them has some spiky-haired weirdo screaming gibberish with scantily-clad women supporting him, saying things like, "You can do it through the power of friendship!" or "You are the chosen one!" or "It's not like I like you or anything, Baka!" What does Baka even mean?

No matter the case, these adventuring parties have begun to wreak havoc on the demonic economy. In a few years, we have gone from a thriving metropolis that could harbor any number of refugees to the brink of collapse, ourselves. If this get any worse, I might have to consider small cuts to social services until we could get back on our feet. We pride ourselves on our health care and free collegiate education, but maybe cuts to infrastructure would be possible?

No. I could solve this without stripping basic rights from my citizens.

The real question was how humanity kept generating absurdly strong individuals at such a high rate. What were they doing?

After sending a minion to investigate, I found that these "heroes" were actually being summoned from some strange land known as "Japan." The minion had also scrawled down the summoning circle they used, so I figured it was time to fight fire with fire! We would begin summoning adventurers of our own!

One evening, I closed all the doors to my chambers and lit a few candles before starting to draw the circle prescribed by my minion. The only problem was that they had terrible handwriting, and I couldn't quite figure out the specific placement of certain strokes. I am almost certain I got some of the lines crossed, but after a few hours of tinkering, I was happy enough with the result to give it a try.

I took a deep breath and prayed to the dark gods that it would work before sending magical energy into the circle. Soon, the outer ring began to glow a brilliant blue before red and white streaks surged towards the center. I took a step back as the pattern began to hum and the castle walls began to vibrate.

I was shaken to the core and feared I had made a grave mistake, but after a few seconds of doubt, a huge plume of smoke erupted from the center of the circle with a loud explosion that sounded almost like the cry of an eagle. It was so powerful that it burst open the doors to the chamber and extinguished all the candles. I began coughing and waving the smoke away from my face, thinking that my experiment had failed.

However, as I looked closer, I began to make out the silhouette of a young man, clad in blue pants and a white shirt with the sleeves ripped off – clearly a display of strength, even though his arms were not particularly muscular. Atop his head was a red cap with a four word phrase in his native tongue, and his face was covered in a scraggly beard.

"Hello?" I called.

The man – the hero – began coughing and shouting what were undoubtedly expletives in his native tongue. I cast a translation spell so we could understand each other.

"Hello?" I called again.

"What the ever-livin' shit is this?" He shouted. "Where th' FUCK am I?"

"Ah, hello great hero!" I said while casting a wind spell to send the smoke away. I then snapped my fingers to light all the candles. "You have been summoned here to aid us in our quest!"

"What the FUCK?" he said again, "Is this some kinda magic show?"

"Show? No..." Did magic not exist in his universe? Was the circle wrong after all? "Sir, are you from Japan?"

"Weeabo land? Nah, I stay as far away from that shit as I can. I hear it turns ya gay."

I checked the parameters of my translation spell to make sure it was working correctly. Even after translation, I was not sure what he was saying. "Pray tell... Where are you from then?"

"Ah, 'round Montgomery."

"Is that a name of a city or town?"

"Yeah, Montgomery, Alabama. What are you, dumb? You know... Civil rights an' shit." He then spit out some sort of black goo from his mouth before muttering, "Biggest fucking mistake our country ever made."

I took a deep breath. This man was getting on my last nerve. He was arrogant and fool-hearted, but maybe those were the traits of a good hero? "Alabama. I see. It sounds like a fine country!"

"Where are you from, Europe? Who the fuck doesn't know Alabama? You know, 'Sweet Home Alabama'? In the US of A? I am from America, dipshit."

"Right. No. Ok. America, then." I still couldn't follow his speech patterns, but I felt I should continue nonetheless. "You have been summoned here to help us fight back against the enemy army. The road will be difficult, but will be paved with glory..."

"Woah now, bud." He took off his cap and slicked his hair to his scalp before putting it back on, "What kinda nonsense is this?"

"Sir, if you would just let me explain..."

"I think I get the gist. You are a weak European nation that needs American help. Damn socialists. If you had used the money you spent on health care on defense, you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Now, wait. Hold on there." I took another breath while gritting my teeth, "It is not my citizen's fault that we are at war. I will not strip them of their basic human rights to fight battles they don't want to fight."

"Fucking libtard. Send me back. I ain't doin' this."

"Yeah, you are right about that." I snapped my fingers and incinerated him on the spot.

What a waste of time.

Moral of the story: Some people are not worth your time.

Prompt: Seeing the eficiency of adventurer parties, the Dark Lord decides to create one of his own.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/09/index.html b/content/2020/December/09/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/09/index.html rename to content/2020/December/09/index.html index 3e88e11..17a8ff5 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/09/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/09/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -How Elves are Made · Scribbleios
GitHub

How Elves are Made

Dear Santa

A few Christmases ago, I lost my father. The night before, we went to sleep like normal. When we woke up, there were gifts under the tree, but my father was missing. I haven't seen him for months and miss him a lot.

My mom, brothers, and sister have all completely forgotten about him, but I haven't.

This year, I don't want any toys or gifts. I just want my father back.

Thanks, Angela

PS: Please help.

At the time, I was so desperate that I sent the letter in July to be doubly sure that Santa got it in time to find my father and return him to me. In October, I received a letter back

Hello Angela,

I have received your letter and can assure you that your father is safe and sound. I am more than happy to bring him to you on Christmas, but there will be a price.

If you are willing, please meet me at 1:03 AM next to your chimney on Christmas

Thanks, Chris (AKA Santa)

And that leads us to Christmas Eve. I asked my mom if I could stay up late for Santa, and after a bit of pleading, she reluctantly agreed.

So I sat on my rocking chair, hot cocoa in hand, covered in a warm Christmas blanket. My eyes were constantly flickering between the clock and the fireplace, where flames quietly cracked and hissed. Every now and again, the wood would shuffle a bit and sparks would fly, but I wasn't paying attention to the fire, itself. See, it was midnight. Santa would be here in an hour, and he would be entering through the chimney. I felt a bundle of different emotions: excitement, anxiety, confusion...

Why was my father with Santa to begin with? Why did no one else in my family remember anything? Why was Santa willing to meet me when he usually worked in secret?

No matter the case, I would have my answers soon.

With every tick of the clock, I could feel my eyes droop, and with every blink, more time seemed to pass. Suddenly, I was awoken by a light tapping on the roof. My eyes jolted open and darted to the clock. It was 1:00 AM.

Santa was here.

I stared intently at the fireplace, where the smoldering cinders still glowed slightly. Any minute now, I would get my answers. Soon, a splash of water fell down the chimney, creating a plume of smoke as it extinguished the remnants of the fire. Through the smoke, I saw the silhouette of a large man, carrying a sack of gifts.

As the room cleared, I began to make out a red costume and large, white beard. The man's face was withered with age, and his glasses were trimmed with gold. He chuckled to himself as his blue eyes settled on me.

"Ho Ho Ho!" He said with a grin, "You must be Angela! I have been looking forward to this!"

"Santa!" I screamed, "I can't believe you actually came!" I ran to him and gave him the biggest hug I could.

"Ho Ho Ho, my dear!" He patted my head and pushed me away slightly so he could kneel down to eye level. "Now about your father..."

"Yes, where is he?" I asked. "You said I could see him?"

"Yes, but it comes with a price."

"I'll pay anything! Just let me see him!"

"Ho Ho Ho! Very well, but I warned you." In that moment, his eyes seemed to glow a bright amber before fading back into blue. He then moved his sack to the floor and reached into it, pulling out a wooden doll, no taller than 2 feet. "Here he is."

I stared at it for a bit. It was dressed from head to toe in a strange green outfit with black shoes and a large black belt. It did look a little like my father. It had a trimmed beard and slightly-thinning hair. Its build was also similar, with a broad chest, but thin legs. It stared up at me with somewhat lifeless eyes before tilting its head to and fro and walking closer to me to hug my leg. It began muttering something in a strange robotic language, "I – I – I –" It was clearly a little broken. No matter how much it might have resembled my father, it was still a toy.

"This isn't my father." I said. "Is it an elf? A toy?"

"It is all three. Elves must come from somewhere." Santa said, his voice now sinister. He then pulled out a small mirror from his sack and said, "Here. Have a look."

My heart started beating faster than ever before as I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was becoming smooth, and my hair synthetic. I could feel myself shrinking as my pajamas fell to the floor, leaving me naked and trembling in the cold. My grip loosened on the mirror as my hands became wooden, and I could feel a new outfit begin to wrap around my body. First came the boots, and then the tights, followed by a green dress and hat.

I was now the same height as the toy that was once my father, who was still stuttering, "I – I – I – I am so sorry." Even through the transformation, my father had done his best to hold me tight.

"Ho Ho Ho!" Santa said again. "It looks like we are done! Don't worry, dear elf, what comes next will be fun!"

"I – I – I –" I began stuttering like my father once did. I had so much to say, "I don't want to go with you!" or "I can't believe you have done this to me!" But mostly, I just wanted to hug my father one last time and say, "I love you, dad."

But as I did so, I did not feel any warmth or joy, just the wooden surface of another toy.

[Prompt: Your father disappeared during Christmas, many years ago. You have searched the world for him, but to no avail. On the verge of losing hope, you decide to try out the one thing that has never failed you: writing a letter to Santa Claus.]

+How Elves are Made · Scribbleios
GitHub

How Elves are Made

Dear Santa

A few Christmases ago, I lost my father. The night before, we went to sleep like normal. When we woke up, there were gifts under the tree, but my father was missing. I haven't seen him for months and miss him a lot.

My mom, brothers, and sister have all completely forgotten about him, but I haven't.

This year, I don't want any toys or gifts. I just want my father back.

Thanks, Angela

PS: Please help.

At the time, I was so desperate that I sent the letter in July to be doubly sure that Santa got it in time to find my father and return him to me. In October, I received a letter back

Hello Angela,

I have received your letter and can assure you that your father is safe and sound. I am more than happy to bring him to you on Christmas, but there will be a price.

If you are willing, please meet me at 1:03 AM next to your chimney on Christmas

Thanks, Chris (AKA Santa)

And that leads us to Christmas Eve. I asked my mom if I could stay up late for Santa, and after a bit of pleading, she reluctantly agreed.

So I sat on my rocking chair, hot cocoa in hand, covered in a warm Christmas blanket. My eyes were constantly flickering between the clock and the fireplace, where flames quietly cracked and hissed. Every now and again, the wood would shuffle a bit and sparks would fly, but I wasn't paying attention to the fire, itself. See, it was midnight. Santa would be here in an hour, and he would be entering through the chimney. I felt a bundle of different emotions: excitement, anxiety, confusion...

Why was my father with Santa to begin with? Why did no one else in my family remember anything? Why was Santa willing to meet me when he usually worked in secret?

No matter the case, I would have my answers soon.

With every tick of the clock, I could feel my eyes droop, and with every blink, more time seemed to pass. Suddenly, I was awoken by a light tapping on the roof. My eyes jolted open and darted to the clock. It was 1:00 AM.

Santa was here.

I stared intently at the fireplace, where the smoldering cinders still glowed slightly. Any minute now, I would get my answers. Soon, a splash of water fell down the chimney, creating a plume of smoke as it extinguished the remnants of the fire. Through the smoke, I saw the silhouette of a large man, carrying a sack of gifts.

As the room cleared, I began to make out a red costume and large, white beard. The man's face was withered with age, and his glasses were trimmed with gold. He chuckled to himself as his blue eyes settled on me.

"Ho Ho Ho!" He said with a grin, "You must be Angela! I have been looking forward to this!"

"Santa!" I screamed, "I can't believe you actually came!" I ran to him and gave him the biggest hug I could.

"Ho Ho Ho, my dear!" He patted my head and pushed me away slightly so he could kneel down to eye level. "Now about your father..."

"Yes, where is he?" I asked. "You said I could see him?"

"Yes, but it comes with a price."

"I'll pay anything! Just let me see him!"

"Ho Ho Ho! Very well, but I warned you." In that moment, his eyes seemed to glow a bright amber before fading back into blue. He then moved his sack to the floor and reached into it, pulling out a wooden doll, no taller than 2 feet. "Here he is."

I stared at it for a bit. It was dressed from head to toe in a strange green outfit with black shoes and a large black belt. It did look a little like my father. It had a trimmed beard and slightly-thinning hair. Its build was also similar, with a broad chest, but thin legs. It stared up at me with somewhat lifeless eyes before tilting its head to and fro and walking closer to me to hug my leg. It began muttering something in a strange robotic language, "I – I – I –" It was clearly a little broken. No matter how much it might have resembled my father, it was still a toy.

"This isn't my father." I said. "Is it an elf? A toy?"

"It is all three. Elves must come from somewhere." Santa said, his voice now sinister. He then pulled out a small mirror from his sack and said, "Here. Have a look."

My heart started beating faster than ever before as I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was becoming smooth, and my hair synthetic. I could feel myself shrinking as my pajamas fell to the floor, leaving me naked and trembling in the cold. My grip loosened on the mirror as my hands became wooden, and I could feel a new outfit begin to wrap around my body. First came the boots, and then the tights, followed by a green dress and hat.

I was now the same height as the toy that was once my father, who was still stuttering, "I – I – I – I am so sorry." Even through the transformation, my father had done his best to hold me tight.

"Ho Ho Ho!" Santa said again. "It looks like we are done! Don't worry, dear elf, what comes next will be fun!"

"I – I – I –" I began stuttering like my father once did. I had so much to say, "I don't want to go with you!" or "I can't believe you have done this to me!" But mostly, I just wanted to hug my father one last time and say, "I love you, dad."

But as I did so, I did not feel any warmth or joy, just the wooden surface of another toy.

[Prompt: Your father disappeared during Christmas, many years ago. You have searched the world for him, but to no avail. On the verge of losing hope, you decide to try out the one thing that has never failed you: writing a letter to Santa Claus.]

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/10/index.html b/content/2020/December/10/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/10/index.html rename to content/2020/December/10/index.html index 6379b4e..3a9ea84 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/10/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/10/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Returning to the Sea · Scribbleios
GitHub

Returning to the Sea

Everything about the human body has evolved to live on land. We walk on 2 feet, breathe oxygen from the air, and drink fresh water. Even so, there is something so wonderfully primal about bobbing around the ocean's surface, as if some vestigial remnant of our animal ancestors still longed to swim. For me, in particular, the water means something even more.

A few years ago, there was an outbreak of an unusual plague that extended to every society known to man. Unlike ordinary diseases, this one did not merely kill its victims. No, it haunted them even into the afterlife.

Its first symptom was something akin to leprosy, where human flesh would start to sag before falling off completely. After that, the infected would experience an insatiable desire to eat other humans. Finally, they would stop breathing altogether; however, even without breath, they could still walk and transmit the disease to others. It was nothing short of the zombie apocalypse.

At first, there was nothing humanity could do to protect themselves. They huddled in their houses, waiting for the hordes of zombies to overtake them. Soon, certain societies made a fascinating discovery: the zombies, like moths, were attracted to light. This lead to the Great Extermination, where citizens of all different countries banded together by creating giant bulbs of light and casting them just beyond the shore.

Eventually, every single zombie left the land and turned to the sea. Although this did not kill them, it did allow humanity to return to living life as they once did in relative peace and luxury.

Over the next few centuries, a cure was developed to partially treat the zombie outbreak. In particular, it solved the patient's insatiable hunger by preventing them from ever being hungry again. It cured their decaying flesh by preventing them from aging further and allowing them to regrow the skin they once had. After a few years of therapy, zombies were later re-integrated into society as immortals, also called "the Cured."

The Cured existed as strange outcasts to modern society. They did not understand technology and had no need to work to eat. Even after therapy, they were often still unable to act as humans normally would. Their speech might be slurred or gait slightly askew. In addition, almost every single Cured suffered from an intense form of PTSD from centuries of drowning and decay.

I had recently taken up a new job to fill the Cured hospitals to capacity by swimming out to the ancient bulbs with a floodlight on my waist. I would then set the bulb on a 20 second timer and turn on my own floodlight before swimming back to shore. A few of the zombies would follow, and I would trap them in a cage to be transported to the nearest hospital.

This was why the ocean was so special to me. It was more than just a body of water. It was the home to millions of people, counting on me to save them.

I knew my family was out there somewhere, lurking in the depths of the ocean, slowly making their way to shore, and it was my duty to guide them home. After all, I was Cured from the same disease, myself. I wouldn't rest until they were found.

Prompt: Zombies cannot swim. But they will attempt to follow targets in boats by walking into the ocean. Centuries after the cure was found, groups of zombies are surfacing on the other end of the atlantic. You are one of the first to be cured, and have to adapt to this new society.

+Returning to the Sea · Scribbleios
GitHub

Returning to the Sea

Everything about the human body has evolved to live on land. We walk on 2 feet, breathe oxygen from the air, and drink fresh water. Even so, there is something so wonderfully primal about bobbing around the ocean's surface, as if some vestigial remnant of our animal ancestors still longed to swim. For me, in particular, the water means something even more.

A few years ago, there was an outbreak of an unusual plague that extended to every society known to man. Unlike ordinary diseases, this one did not merely kill its victims. No, it haunted them even into the afterlife.

Its first symptom was something akin to leprosy, where human flesh would start to sag before falling off completely. After that, the infected would experience an insatiable desire to eat other humans. Finally, they would stop breathing altogether; however, even without breath, they could still walk and transmit the disease to others. It was nothing short of the zombie apocalypse.

At first, there was nothing humanity could do to protect themselves. They huddled in their houses, waiting for the hordes of zombies to overtake them. Soon, certain societies made a fascinating discovery: the zombies, like moths, were attracted to light. This lead to the Great Extermination, where citizens of all different countries banded together by creating giant bulbs of light and casting them just beyond the shore.

Eventually, every single zombie left the land and turned to the sea. Although this did not kill them, it did allow humanity to return to living life as they once did in relative peace and luxury.

Over the next few centuries, a cure was developed to partially treat the zombie outbreak. In particular, it solved the patient's insatiable hunger by preventing them from ever being hungry again. It cured their decaying flesh by preventing them from aging further and allowing them to regrow the skin they once had. After a few years of therapy, zombies were later re-integrated into society as immortals, also called "the Cured."

The Cured existed as strange outcasts to modern society. They did not understand technology and had no need to work to eat. Even after therapy, they were often still unable to act as humans normally would. Their speech might be slurred or gait slightly askew. In addition, almost every single Cured suffered from an intense form of PTSD from centuries of drowning and decay.

I had recently taken up a new job to fill the Cured hospitals to capacity by swimming out to the ancient bulbs with a floodlight on my waist. I would then set the bulb on a 20 second timer and turn on my own floodlight before swimming back to shore. A few of the zombies would follow, and I would trap them in a cage to be transported to the nearest hospital.

This was why the ocean was so special to me. It was more than just a body of water. It was the home to millions of people, counting on me to save them.

I knew my family was out there somewhere, lurking in the depths of the ocean, slowly making their way to shore, and it was my duty to guide them home. After all, I was Cured from the same disease, myself. I wouldn't rest until they were found.

Prompt: Zombies cannot swim. But they will attempt to follow targets in boats by walking into the ocean. Centuries after the cure was found, groups of zombies are surfacing on the other end of the atlantic. You are one of the first to be cured, and have to adapt to this new society.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/11/index.html b/content/2020/December/11/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/11/index.html rename to content/2020/December/11/index.html index 0910dff..621a954 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/11/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/11/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -All the Right Questions · Scribbleios
GitHub

All the Right Questions

I have always had an unusual superpower. When asked a question, I always know the answer with 100% certainty.

One day, while walking down a busy street, I saw an old friend of mine in the distance. We waved to each other to meet at a nearby intersection before walking to a coffee shop to chat. After sitting down, he said, "It's crazy running into you here! How are you doing today?"

In that moment, every significant event that happened throughout the day began playing as a slideshow in my head.

  • I stubbed my toe this morning getting out of the shower and had to bandage it up. I ended up running out of the bathroom right as my neighbor was stopping by to drop off a package. They definitely saw me naked through the window.
  • At work, I managed to write one of the most beautiful pieces of code I have ever seen.
  • I almost got run over when jaywalking just a few minutes before.

These were all interesting stories, but there was one, uniquely correct answer to this question: "Fine, and you?"

"Yeah, I'm doing well!" he laughed a bit, "I haven't seen you since high school! What are you doing nowadays?"

Again, possible answers began flashing through my head.

  • I went to college and got a physics degree.
  • I took up a fierce quilting hobby and actually don't know what to do with all of my blankets.
  • I have been taking care of my mother, who is getting older by the day.

Again, though, there was one correct response: "I am working at a nearby tech shop doing database management."

"Oh, sounds cool! Do you know programming?"

Yes, "Yes."

"Awesome! What languages do you use?"

Javascript and SQL, "Javascript and SQL"

"Ah, right." He nodded a bit, "I actually do gamedev now, so I do a lot of C# and C++"

"Oh, really cool. What games have you made?" I asked. Honestly, I was happy he didn't ask another question. The answers were always distracting.

"I recently made one called Peabody, have you heard of it?"

Yes. I lied to continue the conversation, "No. Tell me more about it!"

We talked for some time, and I eventually told him that my mother was ill and I was in town to take care of her.

"Oh, that sucks! Will she be ok?"

No. This was the first time I was asked that question, and I didn't know the answer. I felt my hair stand on-end as a wave of emotion flowed through me, but I managed to keep a straight face by sighing a bit and lying again. "Yeah. The doctors say she'll pull through! It's just hard right now."

He nodded in solidarity, "Yeah, I'll bet, especially while managing a rather intense job!"

"It's intense, but rewarding in it's own right." I said, shrugging slightly.

"I guess you enjoy it, then?"

No, "Yeah, I think it's fine. I might think about transitioning to a new career once my mom gets better." I grimaced slightly at my own comment. I now knew my mother would not get better.

He paused for a second, studying my face. "Hey, is everything ok?"

No, "Yeah, everything is fine! I just think I should get back home to check on my mom."

I then stood up, intending to leave, but he grabbed my hand and said, "Hey. Let me know if you ever need to talk. I'm here for you."

"I know. Thanks for that."

"In fact, if you need another distraction, would you like to go to a movie this weekend?"

Yes. I was honestly surprised at the answer, but said, "I guess so."

We then exchanged contact information and went our separate ways before meeting up again over the weekend. One date led to two, and then to three and four until eventually we were inseparable.

See, my power was always incredibly useful. I aced every test without studying. I never failed an interview. I was always considered to be "too perfect," almost untouchable by others.

That said, there was an integral component missing. Even if I had all the right answers, I still needed someone to ask the right questions.

(PS: sorry, not my best work! I tried!)

Prompt: You have the ability to answer any question asked to you. Once a question is heard, you know the answer whether you want to or not.

+All the Right Questions · Scribbleios
GitHub

All the Right Questions

I have always had an unusual superpower. When asked a question, I always know the answer with 100% certainty.

One day, while walking down a busy street, I saw an old friend of mine in the distance. We waved to each other to meet at a nearby intersection before walking to a coffee shop to chat. After sitting down, he said, "It's crazy running into you here! How are you doing today?"

In that moment, every significant event that happened throughout the day began playing as a slideshow in my head.

  • I stubbed my toe this morning getting out of the shower and had to bandage it up. I ended up running out of the bathroom right as my neighbor was stopping by to drop off a package. They definitely saw me naked through the window.
  • At work, I managed to write one of the most beautiful pieces of code I have ever seen.
  • I almost got run over when jaywalking just a few minutes before.

These were all interesting stories, but there was one, uniquely correct answer to this question: "Fine, and you?"

"Yeah, I'm doing well!" he laughed a bit, "I haven't seen you since high school! What are you doing nowadays?"

Again, possible answers began flashing through my head.

  • I went to college and got a physics degree.
  • I took up a fierce quilting hobby and actually don't know what to do with all of my blankets.
  • I have been taking care of my mother, who is getting older by the day.

Again, though, there was one correct response: "I am working at a nearby tech shop doing database management."

"Oh, sounds cool! Do you know programming?"

Yes, "Yes."

"Awesome! What languages do you use?"

Javascript and SQL, "Javascript and SQL"

"Ah, right." He nodded a bit, "I actually do gamedev now, so I do a lot of C# and C++"

"Oh, really cool. What games have you made?" I asked. Honestly, I was happy he didn't ask another question. The answers were always distracting.

"I recently made one called Peabody, have you heard of it?"

Yes. I lied to continue the conversation, "No. Tell me more about it!"

We talked for some time, and I eventually told him that my mother was ill and I was in town to take care of her.

"Oh, that sucks! Will she be ok?"

No. This was the first time I was asked that question, and I didn't know the answer. I felt my hair stand on-end as a wave of emotion flowed through me, but I managed to keep a straight face by sighing a bit and lying again. "Yeah. The doctors say she'll pull through! It's just hard right now."

He nodded in solidarity, "Yeah, I'll bet, especially while managing a rather intense job!"

"It's intense, but rewarding in it's own right." I said, shrugging slightly.

"I guess you enjoy it, then?"

No, "Yeah, I think it's fine. I might think about transitioning to a new career once my mom gets better." I grimaced slightly at my own comment. I now knew my mother would not get better.

He paused for a second, studying my face. "Hey, is everything ok?"

No, "Yeah, everything is fine! I just think I should get back home to check on my mom."

I then stood up, intending to leave, but he grabbed my hand and said, "Hey. Let me know if you ever need to talk. I'm here for you."

"I know. Thanks for that."

"In fact, if you need another distraction, would you like to go to a movie this weekend?"

Yes. I was honestly surprised at the answer, but said, "I guess so."

We then exchanged contact information and went our separate ways before meeting up again over the weekend. One date led to two, and then to three and four until eventually we were inseparable.

See, my power was always incredibly useful. I aced every test without studying. I never failed an interview. I was always considered to be "too perfect," almost untouchable by others.

That said, there was an integral component missing. Even if I had all the right answers, I still needed someone to ask the right questions.

(PS: sorry, not my best work! I tried!)

Prompt: You have the ability to answer any question asked to you. Once a question is heard, you know the answer whether you want to or not.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/12/index.html b/content/2020/December/12/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/12/index.html rename to content/2020/December/12/index.html index 9cd4496..40c3e3a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/12/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/12/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -This is Not the End · Scribbleios
GitHub

This is Not the End

Beyond the window, a fierce storm rages – A hurricane, the strongest in ages. The wind ravages as the rain torments, And everyone hides from the day's events. The world, itself, is swept up in the storm. All are huddled in houses to stay warm. We hope for the best. We can not defend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

A new day dawns, and people awaken. They rub at their eyes, feeling mistaken. Trees are upended and buildings askew, Now everything needs to be built anew. Many cracks are found in the foundation, From years of neglect, and some stagnation. There are immediate issues to tend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

To forget the storm, we work day by day, Finding new people, showing them the way. The world is different without wind or rain, But some of the cracks have left a great stain. Slowly but surely, people come around, We work hard for peace and hope to abound It might seem hopeless. There is much to mend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

Originally submitted for a contest

+This is Not the End · Scribbleios
GitHub

This is Not the End

Beyond the window, a fierce storm rages – A hurricane, the strongest in ages. The wind ravages as the rain torments, And everyone hides from the day's events. The world, itself, is swept up in the storm. All are huddled in houses to stay warm. We hope for the best. We can not defend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

A new day dawns, and people awaken. They rub at their eyes, feeling mistaken. Trees are upended and buildings askew, Now everything needs to be built anew. Many cracks are found in the foundation, From years of neglect, and some stagnation. There are immediate issues to tend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

To forget the storm, we work day by day, Finding new people, showing them the way. The world is different without wind or rain, But some of the cracks have left a great stain. Slowly but surely, people come around, We work hard for peace and hope to abound It might seem hopeless. There is much to mend, But we still persist. This is not the end.

Originally submitted for a contest

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/23/index.html b/content/2020/December/23/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/23/index.html rename to content/2020/December/23/index.html index 8fdcdd7..2b2b52a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/23/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/23/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Shy Gal · Scribbleios
GitHub

Shy Gal

Throughout the past few millenia, humanity has undergone an evolution of sorts. It began with ancient Greek heroes performing legendary feats. Those heroes then bred with other heroes and honed their abilities until eventually their kin developed full-on super powers. By 2020, nearly a quarter of the world's population were "supers," and I was one of them. My super identity is "Shy Gal," and my nemesis is "Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly."

Let me explain.

Because super-powers are hereditary, most supers know what kinds of powers they will receive long before they actually develop them. If their mom could shoot ice beams and their dad could breathe fire, then they would have some combination of the two. My problem was that neither of my parents were supers. In fact, no one in my family was super. We had come from a long line of normal people, doing normal things.

Because of this, no one expected anything from me. I didn't have to save the world. I didn't even need to make straight A's. As long as I was passing my classes and having a good time, my parents were happy enough.

That's why my powers came as a complete surprise.

See, there was this boy. Jake. He had jet-black hair, but sharp blue eyes and a face dotted with freckles. He was quick-witted and smart, but not too smart that he forgot how to listen. Every time I talked to him, I felt myself leaning in, completely absorbed in conversation.

Simply put: I was crushing on him. Hard. Worse, there was a dance coming up and I had to go with him.

So one day, I put on a little make-up and spritzed on some perfume. During class, I wrote a note and passed it to him:

Meet me on the roof after school, 3:15

He handed it back to be with a single word:

Sure

In that moment, time froze. I could feel my heart beat faster than ever before, and my whole body tingled. My breathing became irregular, and I couldn't think about anything else but Jake and our eventual meeting that afternoon. I tried to take a deep breath and focus on the lecture, but the teacher was moving too slowly for me to follow. I ended up trying to scribble a bit in my notebook, but somehow broke my pencil in two as I began to write.

Eventually, I calmed down and managed to get through class.

After the bell rang, I ran up the stairs and waited on the roof for what seemed like hours. I kept looking at my watch, and it kept reading the same time: 3:14.32

At first, I thought it was broken, so I took another deep breath and sat down. When I had looked at my watch again, the time had changed to 3:14.56

It seemed to be ticking at an irregular rate, so I didn't worry about it too much. At 3:17.23, the door to the roof opened up, and Jake slowly appeared. If I'm honest, I had never seen anyone move so slowly.

Was he ok? Why was he so late? Did he not want to see me?

As questions raced through my mind, I leapt up and ran to him before saying, "Hey Jake, how are you?"

He didn't even look up. In fact, he didn't even shut the door behind him. He just stood there, frozen.

"Jake?" I asked again, this time concerned, "Are you ok?"

Suddenly, he jumped and gasped slightly, "Woah. You scared me! Where did you come from?"

"Just over there," I pointed to where I was sitting, "Do you have time to talk? I know it's late."

"Late? What do you mean?" He shut the door before looking at me and saying slowly, "Didn't class just end?"

"Ah, maybe?" I said, "Look. There's something I need to tell you."

Again, time froze, and I could feel my head throbbing and body tingling. I had never been so nervous before. Jake was completely still, not moving at all.

"Jake?" I asked again, waving my hand in-front of his face, "Are you ok?"

He said nothing. His eyes did not even track my movement. What was going on? I looked around a bit and saw a bird struggling to fly against harsh wind. It seemed as if it wasn't moving at all. It was then that I realized there was no wind either.

The world, itself, had frozen except for me.

Soon, the bird began to move a bit and I saw Jake shake his head, "What was that?" he asked, "I didn't quite catch you."

"Ah, sorry." Again, I could feel my heart start to beat and my breathing become shallow. I could do this. I closed my eyes and lowered my head, "Jake. I like you. Do you want to go to the dance with me?"

I didn't look up, but Jake did not say anything either. After a few minutes of silence, my body began trembling in shame. I felt like I had ruined everything.

Of course he didn't want to go out with me! I was the most normal person imaginable! I couldn't play any sports. My grades were mediocre, at best. I spent all my time watching Tom and Jerry on repeat because I didn't want to grow up.

No one could ever want to date me! I could feel tears well up in my eyes. That was it. I ruined our friendship in a single sentence!

So I did the only thing I could think of: I ran.

I was such an emotional wreck that the door's handle felt like play-doh. I couldn't face any of my classmates, so I rushed through the crowd and ran towards my house. I knew it was several miles away, but I didn't care. I wanted to be as far away from that school as possible.

In what seemed like an instant, I was home, in my bed and crying into a pillow. After an hour or so, I had calmed down. I looked to my phone, only to see a text from Jake:

Is everything ok? I don't know what happened, but the door to the roof is broken. Where did you go?

I didn't know what to say, so I left the text alone and turned my phone on silent. A few minutes later, I heard a knock on my door.

"Go away mom." I said, "I don't want to talk right now."

"Mom?" I heard a gruff older gentleman's voice. "I'm not your mom."

My eyes shot open. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Look. I'm not here to harm you. Your mom let me in. I know better than to enter a teenager's room without permission."

"Who the fuck are you?" I repeated.

"I am agent Scarn of the Super Persons Federation, also called SPF, the world's protection against evil's radiation." There was a brief pause, "We need you. The world needs you."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"You're a super. With the right training, you could be one of the best."

I thought back to the events throughout the day and realized that time only seemed to freeze when I was filled with adrenaline. "So wait. When Jake froze today... That was me?"

"Yes. We don't really know the source of your power, but you seem to be able to stop time and have super strength."

It was a lot to process, but after several months of testing, we found the source of my power: shame.

The more embarrassed I was about a situation, the more time would stop and the stronger I would become. That's why the league gave me the skimpiest possible outfit, complete with pink cat ears and slightly mismatched leg warmers. They also said my catch-phrase would be "Pride Power!" and paired me with the villain with the silliest name: Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly.

This brings us to today: my first day of work. There I was, strapped to a rocket with my new nemesis monologuing, ready to send me to space when my belt began to buzz. I shifted slightly, causing it to pick up on speaker phone.

"Hey huuuuun!" It was my mother, "Just calling to check in on you! How is the day going?"

"Shut it, mom! You're embarrassing me!" I felt my face flush red and a familiar fight or flight sensation tingle throughout my body. "Wait. On second thought, stay on the line a bit longer."

I then ripped through my restraints and used them to tie up Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly before he even finished explaining how he was going to take over the tri-state area.

I then ran home as quickly as possible to give my mom a hug. She might be the most embarrassing woman in history, but she had saved my life.

PS: Sorry it was kinda long!

Prompt: First day as a Superhero. And it's going to be great - if Mom ever stops calling!

+Shy Gal · Scribbleios
GitHub

Shy Gal

Throughout the past few millenia, humanity has undergone an evolution of sorts. It began with ancient Greek heroes performing legendary feats. Those heroes then bred with other heroes and honed their abilities until eventually their kin developed full-on super powers. By 2020, nearly a quarter of the world's population were "supers," and I was one of them. My super identity is "Shy Gal," and my nemesis is "Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly."

Let me explain.

Because super-powers are hereditary, most supers know what kinds of powers they will receive long before they actually develop them. If their mom could shoot ice beams and their dad could breathe fire, then they would have some combination of the two. My problem was that neither of my parents were supers. In fact, no one in my family was super. We had come from a long line of normal people, doing normal things.

Because of this, no one expected anything from me. I didn't have to save the world. I didn't even need to make straight A's. As long as I was passing my classes and having a good time, my parents were happy enough.

That's why my powers came as a complete surprise.

See, there was this boy. Jake. He had jet-black hair, but sharp blue eyes and a face dotted with freckles. He was quick-witted and smart, but not too smart that he forgot how to listen. Every time I talked to him, I felt myself leaning in, completely absorbed in conversation.

Simply put: I was crushing on him. Hard. Worse, there was a dance coming up and I had to go with him.

So one day, I put on a little make-up and spritzed on some perfume. During class, I wrote a note and passed it to him:

Meet me on the roof after school, 3:15

He handed it back to be with a single word:

Sure

In that moment, time froze. I could feel my heart beat faster than ever before, and my whole body tingled. My breathing became irregular, and I couldn't think about anything else but Jake and our eventual meeting that afternoon. I tried to take a deep breath and focus on the lecture, but the teacher was moving too slowly for me to follow. I ended up trying to scribble a bit in my notebook, but somehow broke my pencil in two as I began to write.

Eventually, I calmed down and managed to get through class.

After the bell rang, I ran up the stairs and waited on the roof for what seemed like hours. I kept looking at my watch, and it kept reading the same time: 3:14.32

At first, I thought it was broken, so I took another deep breath and sat down. When I had looked at my watch again, the time had changed to 3:14.56

It seemed to be ticking at an irregular rate, so I didn't worry about it too much. At 3:17.23, the door to the roof opened up, and Jake slowly appeared. If I'm honest, I had never seen anyone move so slowly.

Was he ok? Why was he so late? Did he not want to see me?

As questions raced through my mind, I leapt up and ran to him before saying, "Hey Jake, how are you?"

He didn't even look up. In fact, he didn't even shut the door behind him. He just stood there, frozen.

"Jake?" I asked again, this time concerned, "Are you ok?"

Suddenly, he jumped and gasped slightly, "Woah. You scared me! Where did you come from?"

"Just over there," I pointed to where I was sitting, "Do you have time to talk? I know it's late."

"Late? What do you mean?" He shut the door before looking at me and saying slowly, "Didn't class just end?"

"Ah, maybe?" I said, "Look. There's something I need to tell you."

Again, time froze, and I could feel my head throbbing and body tingling. I had never been so nervous before. Jake was completely still, not moving at all.

"Jake?" I asked again, waving my hand in-front of his face, "Are you ok?"

He said nothing. His eyes did not even track my movement. What was going on? I looked around a bit and saw a bird struggling to fly against harsh wind. It seemed as if it wasn't moving at all. It was then that I realized there was no wind either.

The world, itself, had frozen except for me.

Soon, the bird began to move a bit and I saw Jake shake his head, "What was that?" he asked, "I didn't quite catch you."

"Ah, sorry." Again, I could feel my heart start to beat and my breathing become shallow. I could do this. I closed my eyes and lowered my head, "Jake. I like you. Do you want to go to the dance with me?"

I didn't look up, but Jake did not say anything either. After a few minutes of silence, my body began trembling in shame. I felt like I had ruined everything.

Of course he didn't want to go out with me! I was the most normal person imaginable! I couldn't play any sports. My grades were mediocre, at best. I spent all my time watching Tom and Jerry on repeat because I didn't want to grow up.

No one could ever want to date me! I could feel tears well up in my eyes. That was it. I ruined our friendship in a single sentence!

So I did the only thing I could think of: I ran.

I was such an emotional wreck that the door's handle felt like play-doh. I couldn't face any of my classmates, so I rushed through the crowd and ran towards my house. I knew it was several miles away, but I didn't care. I wanted to be as far away from that school as possible.

In what seemed like an instant, I was home, in my bed and crying into a pillow. After an hour or so, I had calmed down. I looked to my phone, only to see a text from Jake:

Is everything ok? I don't know what happened, but the door to the roof is broken. Where did you go?

I didn't know what to say, so I left the text alone and turned my phone on silent. A few minutes later, I heard a knock on my door.

"Go away mom." I said, "I don't want to talk right now."

"Mom?" I heard a gruff older gentleman's voice. "I'm not your mom."

My eyes shot open. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Look. I'm not here to harm you. Your mom let me in. I know better than to enter a teenager's room without permission."

"Who the fuck are you?" I repeated.

"I am agent Scarn of the Super Persons Federation, also called SPF, the world's protection against evil's radiation." There was a brief pause, "We need you. The world needs you."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"You're a super. With the right training, you could be one of the best."

I thought back to the events throughout the day and realized that time only seemed to freeze when I was filled with adrenaline. "So wait. When Jake froze today... That was me?"

"Yes. We don't really know the source of your power, but you seem to be able to stop time and have super strength."

It was a lot to process, but after several months of testing, we found the source of my power: shame.

The more embarrassed I was about a situation, the more time would stop and the stronger I would become. That's why the league gave me the skimpiest possible outfit, complete with pink cat ears and slightly mismatched leg warmers. They also said my catch-phrase would be "Pride Power!" and paired me with the villain with the silliest name: Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly.

This brings us to today: my first day of work. There I was, strapped to a rocket with my new nemesis monologuing, ready to send me to space when my belt began to buzz. I shifted slightly, causing it to pick up on speaker phone.

"Hey huuuuun!" It was my mother, "Just calling to check in on you! How is the day going?"

"Shut it, mom! You're embarrassing me!" I felt my face flush red and a familiar fight or flight sensation tingle throughout my body. "Wait. On second thought, stay on the line a bit longer."

I then ripped through my restraints and used them to tie up Dr. Professor Piggly Wiggly before he even finished explaining how he was going to take over the tri-state area.

I then ran home as quickly as possible to give my mom a hug. She might be the most embarrassing woman in history, but she had saved my life.

PS: Sorry it was kinda long!

Prompt: First day as a Superhero. And it's going to be great - if Mom ever stops calling!

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/24/index.html b/content/2020/December/24/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/24/index.html rename to content/2020/December/24/index.html index bbe068d..051237d 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/24/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/24/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Age Regression · Scribbleios
GitHub

Age Regression

"Most people don't realize that magic is the natural evolution of hypnosis." I said as I began scribbling the lecture notes on the board. "That is to say, magic is most effective when both the magician and their audience believe in the magic's effect."

I paused for a second and looked to my classroom, where dozens of desks were positioned next to each other in separate rows. All of them were empty except one, which was occupied by a bewitching young woman who went by the name of Nadine. At the time, she was running her hand through her long, dark hair while scribbling silently in her notebook. As she was my only student, I waited for her to finish before continuing.

When she looked up, I took a moment to search her eyes to see if she was comfortable with the course material. I then asked, "Nadine, what do you remember from last year?"

She shook her head, "I wasn't here last year."

"Of course not." I grimaced slightly and said, "You are a freshman after all."

As we continued the lecture, Nadine would interject regularly with well-posed questions. She was clearly more intelligent than other students her age. When the hour was up, I tapped my notes on the desk and said, "Well that's all for now. I'll see you tomorrow to talk about the theory of Aether?"

"Yup!" She nodded vigorously before closing her book with a distinct clap. "I can't wait!"

I took a deep breath to clear my mind and said, "Great. Looking forward to it!" I then ushered her out of the room.

As we went our separate ways, she turned around and said, "Thanks for all the tutoring! I'm really learning a lot!" At the time, I was mesmerized by how the light kissed her cheek and lit up her blue eyes. I unconsciously took a step forward, intending to grab her arm and pull her towards me, but stopped myself at the last moment.

I then nodded and turned around so she didn't see my eyes as they began to water and said, "No problem. I'm a professor. It's what I do."

As I sat down in my office that afternoon, I felt a wave of emotion rush over me and buried my head in my hands. I couldn't do this. Nadine was only a freshman. What was I doing?

I looked up to a picture on my desk, where my wife and I proudly held up our doctorate degrees from almost two decades before. At the time, I was clean-shaven and had short, spiky hair, which was starkly contrasting how I looked today with a scraggly beard and unkept hair. In the image, I was not looking at the camera, but instead at my wife, who was just as bewitchingly beautiful as ever. Long, dark hair. Pastel blue eyes.

As magic researchers, our greatest strength was our unfailing belief in and understanding of each other's magic. Together, we revolutionized the wizarding world, creating more spells than anyone else at the time.

As we got older, our bodies could no longer keep up. Every morning we would wake up to aches and pains in places we didn't know could ache or pain. Though we would make fun of each other for this, my wife became increasingly worried.

One day, over dinner, she looked me in the eyes and said, "I have a solution to all of our problems."

"What do you mean?" I asked while trying to pierce a pea with a fork.

"We are getting older. We can fix that with a spell."

I began to stroke my beard while staring into her eyes. "An age-regression spell? It's theoretically possible, I suppose..." I took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah. If we use the spells you made last year, mixed with some of my own stasis magic, we could at least stop ourselves from aging."

"No, no." She waved a hand in the air, "I mean, I think I found a way to reduce our ages to be young again!"

After a few hours of discussion, we went to the blackboard and started scribbling away, trying to create the first ever age-regression spell. After a huge amount of trial and error, we were both happy with the results and believed it would work. About a week later, we were ready for the first test.

"Ok, babe. How young do you want to be?" I laughed as I began scribbling the magic circle on the board.

"I don't know..." She began to feel the wrinkles on her face, "18, maybe?"

"18! I don't want to be married to a teenager!"

"Don't worry, we'll send you back too!" She giggled slightly before poking my chest. "You had more muscle back then. I'd like to see that."

We then hugged and kissed before finishing the preparation. I took a step back and nodded at black board before saying, "Ok. I'm ready on my end."

"I'm ready here as well!" She said, "Shall we begin?"

"I guess so." I nodded.

As she began chanting, the circle on the board began to glow a brilliant blue. Soon, my wife began to glow as well. I could see her wrinkles fade and her hips shrink as her hair darkened to it's original color.

After an instant that felt like an eternity, she fell to the floor, limp.

"Nadine!" I called her name and ran to embrace her. I couldn't feel her heart beat and she did not seem to be breathing. A lump formed in my stomach and I began crying, "Oh no no. What have we done? We should have tried this on an animal first. A mouse or..."

I stopped speaking as I felt her begin to breathe again. She slowly opened her eyes but was visibly confused. "What happened?" She asked.

"Oh, Nadine! I'm so glad you are alright! I was so worried." I held her tightly as tears of relief flowed down my cheeks. She didn't move or hug me back. I pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes, "Nadine? Are you ok?"

"I am fine." Her eyes scanned my face, "Who are you?"

In that instant, I realized our mistake. We had reversed her age to before she went to university. Before she learned magic. Before she met me.

I cried and held her tight.

The next day, I told her that I was her professor for the university she would be attending in the fall and that her spell went awry, causing her to lose her memory. Luckily, she believed me, so I gave her accommodation in the dorms and asked her to meet me for special lectures.

Every day, I would teach her what she forgot, hoping that one day she would learn enough to get her memories back. Even though she was right before my eyes, I was desperate to see her again, wrinkles and all.

Prompt: You are a wizard. Your magic becomes more powerful if you explain your magic to your opponent when you cast it

+Age Regression · Scribbleios
GitHub

Age Regression

"Most people don't realize that magic is the natural evolution of hypnosis." I said as I began scribbling the lecture notes on the board. "That is to say, magic is most effective when both the magician and their audience believe in the magic's effect."

I paused for a second and looked to my classroom, where dozens of desks were positioned next to each other in separate rows. All of them were empty except one, which was occupied by a bewitching young woman who went by the name of Nadine. At the time, she was running her hand through her long, dark hair while scribbling silently in her notebook. As she was my only student, I waited for her to finish before continuing.

When she looked up, I took a moment to search her eyes to see if she was comfortable with the course material. I then asked, "Nadine, what do you remember from last year?"

She shook her head, "I wasn't here last year."

"Of course not." I grimaced slightly and said, "You are a freshman after all."

As we continued the lecture, Nadine would interject regularly with well-posed questions. She was clearly more intelligent than other students her age. When the hour was up, I tapped my notes on the desk and said, "Well that's all for now. I'll see you tomorrow to talk about the theory of Aether?"

"Yup!" She nodded vigorously before closing her book with a distinct clap. "I can't wait!"

I took a deep breath to clear my mind and said, "Great. Looking forward to it!" I then ushered her out of the room.

As we went our separate ways, she turned around and said, "Thanks for all the tutoring! I'm really learning a lot!" At the time, I was mesmerized by how the light kissed her cheek and lit up her blue eyes. I unconsciously took a step forward, intending to grab her arm and pull her towards me, but stopped myself at the last moment.

I then nodded and turned around so she didn't see my eyes as they began to water and said, "No problem. I'm a professor. It's what I do."

As I sat down in my office that afternoon, I felt a wave of emotion rush over me and buried my head in my hands. I couldn't do this. Nadine was only a freshman. What was I doing?

I looked up to a picture on my desk, where my wife and I proudly held up our doctorate degrees from almost two decades before. At the time, I was clean-shaven and had short, spiky hair, which was starkly contrasting how I looked today with a scraggly beard and unkept hair. In the image, I was not looking at the camera, but instead at my wife, who was just as bewitchingly beautiful as ever. Long, dark hair. Pastel blue eyes.

As magic researchers, our greatest strength was our unfailing belief in and understanding of each other's magic. Together, we revolutionized the wizarding world, creating more spells than anyone else at the time.

As we got older, our bodies could no longer keep up. Every morning we would wake up to aches and pains in places we didn't know could ache or pain. Though we would make fun of each other for this, my wife became increasingly worried.

One day, over dinner, she looked me in the eyes and said, "I have a solution to all of our problems."

"What do you mean?" I asked while trying to pierce a pea with a fork.

"We are getting older. We can fix that with a spell."

I began to stroke my beard while staring into her eyes. "An age-regression spell? It's theoretically possible, I suppose..." I took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah. If we use the spells you made last year, mixed with some of my own stasis magic, we could at least stop ourselves from aging."

"No, no." She waved a hand in the air, "I mean, I think I found a way to reduce our ages to be young again!"

After a few hours of discussion, we went to the blackboard and started scribbling away, trying to create the first ever age-regression spell. After a huge amount of trial and error, we were both happy with the results and believed it would work. About a week later, we were ready for the first test.

"Ok, babe. How young do you want to be?" I laughed as I began scribbling the magic circle on the board.

"I don't know..." She began to feel the wrinkles on her face, "18, maybe?"

"18! I don't want to be married to a teenager!"

"Don't worry, we'll send you back too!" She giggled slightly before poking my chest. "You had more muscle back then. I'd like to see that."

We then hugged and kissed before finishing the preparation. I took a step back and nodded at black board before saying, "Ok. I'm ready on my end."

"I'm ready here as well!" She said, "Shall we begin?"

"I guess so." I nodded.

As she began chanting, the circle on the board began to glow a brilliant blue. Soon, my wife began to glow as well. I could see her wrinkles fade and her hips shrink as her hair darkened to it's original color.

After an instant that felt like an eternity, she fell to the floor, limp.

"Nadine!" I called her name and ran to embrace her. I couldn't feel her heart beat and she did not seem to be breathing. A lump formed in my stomach and I began crying, "Oh no no. What have we done? We should have tried this on an animal first. A mouse or..."

I stopped speaking as I felt her begin to breathe again. She slowly opened her eyes but was visibly confused. "What happened?" She asked.

"Oh, Nadine! I'm so glad you are alright! I was so worried." I held her tightly as tears of relief flowed down my cheeks. She didn't move or hug me back. I pushed her away slightly and looked into her eyes, "Nadine? Are you ok?"

"I am fine." Her eyes scanned my face, "Who are you?"

In that instant, I realized our mistake. We had reversed her age to before she went to university. Before she learned magic. Before she met me.

I cried and held her tight.

The next day, I told her that I was her professor for the university she would be attending in the fall and that her spell went awry, causing her to lose her memory. Luckily, she believed me, so I gave her accommodation in the dorms and asked her to meet me for special lectures.

Every day, I would teach her what she forgot, hoping that one day she would learn enough to get her memories back. Even though she was right before my eyes, I was desperate to see her again, wrinkles and all.

Prompt: You are a wizard. Your magic becomes more powerful if you explain your magic to your opponent when you cast it

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/25/index.html b/content/2020/December/25/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/25/index.html rename to content/2020/December/25/index.html index 3f11c77..90bca4c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/25/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/25/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Sophia and Aheb · Scribbleios
GitHub

Sophia and Aheb

This is a story I've told time and time again, but not to you or anyone I know. Just to myself. I have written it again and again and have decided that now is the time to share it.

It is not complete. It still needs revision. But it is very related to how I feel right now about my future.

So here it goes...

A few years ago, there was a young woman who went by Sophia. She had just finished high school and was ready to start her new college life, but she could not afford rent on her own and instead needed to stay with her grandfather Aheb, a retired professor at the university she wanted to attend. He was too old to take care of himself anymore, so their arrangment was simple: she would take care of chores around the house and would be given a room in exchange.

After returning home from freshman orientation, she decided to start dinner early. While in the kitchen looking for ingredients, she raised her voice for Aheb to hear, "Grampa, would you like anything in particular for dinner?"

No response. She shrugged, thinking he was napping in the bedroom and began pulling out some pasta and tomatoes to make some italian food. She again called out, "I'll be making Spaghetti, that ok?"

Again, there was no response, so she decided to begin preparing everything. After everything was ready, she checked the master bedroom to see if Aheb was there. He was not.

Confused, she began looking all over, but couldn't find him. She then checked the driveway to make sure his car was still there. After a few more minutes of increasingly frantic searching, she found a door that was slightly ajar that she had before assumed to be closet or a pantry of some sort.

When she opened it, she was greeted by a rather steep flight of stairs. "Grampa!" She called again, "Are you up there?"

Again, no response, but her curiousity got the better of her. At the top of the stairs, there was yet another door, but it was closed this time. She knocked, "Grampa, are you in there?"

"Ah." She heard a gruff, but familiar voice, "Yeah. Come in."

When she opened the door, she found a large library, with the walls completely filled with a huge number of books of all different shapes and sizes. On the far side of the room was a large window looking out onto a tumultuous sky illuminating two tall chairs with an end-table in-between, where a cold, stained cup of coffee rested. The chairs were facing away from Sophia, so she couldn't quite see Aheb, but knew he was sitting in one of them.

She took a step forward and inspected the nearest shelf, which was about shoulder-height. It was filled with titles she had never seen before:

  • The Essence Series
  • The Arcane Algorithm Archive
  • Sufficiently Advanced Technology

She mindlessly pulled out a book at random before walking to the chairs, only to find Aheb gazing at the sky with a stern expression. She then said, "Hey Grampa, I didn't know you liked reading so much."

He looked up and took a deep breath before again looking towards the window, "Yeah. I used to read a bit when my eyesight was better."

Sophia laughed a bit and took the open chair before inspecting the book in her hands. It was a simple black book and the spine read, A Patchwork Quilt. Outside of the title, there was nothing else on the cover. Curious, Sophia asked, "Wait. Who wrote this? There is no author information."

Aheb again sighed. "I did, in a way. I kinda wrote all of these."

Shocked, Sophia looked around. There must have been hundreds of books, maybe even thousands. "Wait. You wrote all of these? That's incredible."

"It's not what you think. Open it." He looked over and tapped the book in Sophia's hand.

She did so, only to find every page blank. After a few seconds, she said, "I don't understand."

"These books are all of my failed creations. Ideas I had throughout the years but never finished, some of them I never even started. Now I'm too old to work on any of them." With that, Aheb again begab staring into space.

Sophia didn't say anything either for a while, but instead stood and began inspecting the titles. She then put her book back before saying, "I guess the reason there is no author information is because they haven't technically been written yet?"

"Yeah." Aheb said. Sophia could not see him from behind the chair, but could hear the defeat in his voice. "I tried. I really did. I wrote for years and years, but never published a single thing. Something more important always came up. Now, these stories will die with me."

Again Sophia did not respond immediately, but instead knelt down to one of the bottom rows of books and felt the spine of one entitled, Inanimate. Like before, it was a solid color without any indicating marks except for the title. She then pulled it out and thumped it against her palm before saying, "How about you tell me about one of them over dinner. C'mon, let's go eat. I'll grab a pen."

+Sophia and Aheb · Scribbleios
GitHub

Sophia and Aheb

This is a story I've told time and time again, but not to you or anyone I know. Just to myself. I have written it again and again and have decided that now is the time to share it.

It is not complete. It still needs revision. But it is very related to how I feel right now about my future.

So here it goes...

A few years ago, there was a young woman who went by Sophia. She had just finished high school and was ready to start her new college life, but she could not afford rent on her own and instead needed to stay with her grandfather Aheb, a retired professor at the university she wanted to attend. He was too old to take care of himself anymore, so their arrangment was simple: she would take care of chores around the house and would be given a room in exchange.

After returning home from freshman orientation, she decided to start dinner early. While in the kitchen looking for ingredients, she raised her voice for Aheb to hear, "Grampa, would you like anything in particular for dinner?"

No response. She shrugged, thinking he was napping in the bedroom and began pulling out some pasta and tomatoes to make some italian food. She again called out, "I'll be making Spaghetti, that ok?"

Again, there was no response, so she decided to begin preparing everything. After everything was ready, she checked the master bedroom to see if Aheb was there. He was not.

Confused, she began looking all over, but couldn't find him. She then checked the driveway to make sure his car was still there. After a few more minutes of increasingly frantic searching, she found a door that was slightly ajar that she had before assumed to be closet or a pantry of some sort.

When she opened it, she was greeted by a rather steep flight of stairs. "Grampa!" She called again, "Are you up there?"

Again, no response, but her curiousity got the better of her. At the top of the stairs, there was yet another door, but it was closed this time. She knocked, "Grampa, are you in there?"

"Ah." She heard a gruff, but familiar voice, "Yeah. Come in."

When she opened the door, she found a large library, with the walls completely filled with a huge number of books of all different shapes and sizes. On the far side of the room was a large window looking out onto a tumultuous sky illuminating two tall chairs with an end-table in-between, where a cold, stained cup of coffee rested. The chairs were facing away from Sophia, so she couldn't quite see Aheb, but knew he was sitting in one of them.

She took a step forward and inspected the nearest shelf, which was about shoulder-height. It was filled with titles she had never seen before:

  • The Essence Series
  • The Arcane Algorithm Archive
  • Sufficiently Advanced Technology

She mindlessly pulled out a book at random before walking to the chairs, only to find Aheb gazing at the sky with a stern expression. She then said, "Hey Grampa, I didn't know you liked reading so much."

He looked up and took a deep breath before again looking towards the window, "Yeah. I used to read a bit when my eyesight was better."

Sophia laughed a bit and took the open chair before inspecting the book in her hands. It was a simple black book and the spine read, A Patchwork Quilt. Outside of the title, there was nothing else on the cover. Curious, Sophia asked, "Wait. Who wrote this? There is no author information."

Aheb again sighed. "I did, in a way. I kinda wrote all of these."

Shocked, Sophia looked around. There must have been hundreds of books, maybe even thousands. "Wait. You wrote all of these? That's incredible."

"It's not what you think. Open it." He looked over and tapped the book in Sophia's hand.

She did so, only to find every page blank. After a few seconds, she said, "I don't understand."

"These books are all of my failed creations. Ideas I had throughout the years but never finished, some of them I never even started. Now I'm too old to work on any of them." With that, Aheb again begab staring into space.

Sophia didn't say anything either for a while, but instead stood and began inspecting the titles. She then put her book back before saying, "I guess the reason there is no author information is because they haven't technically been written yet?"

"Yeah." Aheb said. Sophia could not see him from behind the chair, but could hear the defeat in his voice. "I tried. I really did. I wrote for years and years, but never published a single thing. Something more important always came up. Now, these stories will die with me."

Again Sophia did not respond immediately, but instead knelt down to one of the bottom rows of books and felt the spine of one entitled, Inanimate. Like before, it was a solid color without any indicating marks except for the title. She then pulled it out and thumped it against her palm before saying, "How about you tell me about one of them over dinner. C'mon, let's go eat. I'll grab a pen."

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/26/index.html b/content/2020/December/26/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/26/index.html rename to content/2020/December/26/index.html index d41e534..56502b9 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/26/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/26/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Helpful Demon · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Helpful Demon

Note: suicide trigger warning

I closed the door to my car and looked up at the schoolyard. At this time in the morning, there were a few people standing about, chatting before their first class. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before imagining myself walking through the crowd and entering class without talking to a single person. It would be easy. Everyone can do that, right? I just need to do it. Don't think, just act.

When I opened my eyes again and analyzed the scene, my heart and mind began racing. There's no way I could walk through a crowd without attracting attention, and I could feel their eyes drilling into me. Women would casually glance at me before giggling to themselves among their cliques. Men would look down on me for being too fat. Acquaintances would see me and try to use me like they always did.

The longer I looked, the more nauseous I felt until I had to open the door again and sit back down. I couldn't do it. I knew I should have woken up earlier. If I had managed to arrive at 6:00, I could have avoided the situation entirely.

From within the safety of my car, I scanned for alternative paths. At this time of the morning, I knew the janitor would have opened up a side door, and if I jogged around campus, I could make it in to class without people seeing me. I silently nodded and took another deep breath before opening the door again and quickly walking away from the entrance to the school.

Once I was definitely out of view, I began jogging a bit to make sure I could make it into class on time. As I approached the side door, I saw a student walking in from the distance. They didn't seem to notice me at the time, but I unconsciously hugged a wall to avoid them.

What was I supposed to do? The student was approaching and they would see me soon no matter what I did. What was I supposed to say when they saw me just standing there? As the student approached, a knot tightened in the pit of my stomach and I began to breath quickly.

I then noticed a small hatch to my right that would lead me to the roof. Without thinking, I scaled the ladder to avoid being seen. I then rolled on my back and stared into the sky.

After a few seconds of rest, I stood up and looked over the edge to see if the student had made it past and once they did, I let out another sigh of relief. It was then that I realized I was two stories off the ground. I still had to make it back down and get into class by 8:00. What time was it now?

As I fumbled for my phone to check the time, I heard the bell ring. No matter what I did, I would not make it in time. I shuddered as I tried to envision myself walking into class late. What would the teacher think? Would they call me out for it? Would the students laugh among themselves and make fun of me for sleeping in? I couldn't do it.

I would have to wait until the next class started. At the time, I didn't know what to do, so I sat there on the roof, alone, left to my own thoughts.

What was I doing? I was so socially anxious I couldn't stand being seen by anyone. I didn't have any friends. My family hated being around me. I was the worst of the worst.

What could I do? I was already doing the best I could and I was so, incredibly tired. I was tired of skipping meals due to my own inability to eat food with people around. I was tired of puking every morning when people gave me a sideways glance. I was tired of living.

I looked over the edge again and realized that there was one thing I could do. I could jump.

A wave of euphoria spread over me with that thought. I could just end it all, right here, right now. No more people. Just me, alone for eternity.

I had always chickened out on previous attempts, but not this time. There was no one to stop me. I could finally sleep for good.

I stood up and took a deep breath, leaving my bag on the rooftop. This was it. I couldn't look back.

I charged to the edge of the roof and jumped, head-first towards the ground.

My heart fluttered in the air, but I was not nervous. No, I was excited. This was the first time I ever truly felt alive! Time seemed to slow down as I fell, and my own miserable life began flashing through my mind.

All of the people that made fun of me for simply existing. All of the eyes that stared at me for no reason. All of the secret conversations and giggling behind my back.

They would all end now, in this instant.

As I hit the ground, I heard and felt a distinct crack, like the breaking of glass and felt my body fall through the earth. When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting on a flat surface, but was covered in complete darkness.

Suddenly, a small, rectangular light glowed in the distance, followed by another and then another. More and more rectangles began glowing, forming a type of staircase that lead directly to me. Then the platform under me began to glow, reflecting the sky and the school's wall where I had jumped.

An androgynous voice then called out, "Hello. I'm glad I finally found you." I could hear footsteps slowly descending the stairs from the distance.

"Hello?" I called back, "Who are you?"

"An angel. A demon." By now I could see a figure in the distance. "A guardian, of sorts."

"Guardian? What the heck is a guardian? Why am I still alive?"

"You are alive because I want you to be alive. Without you, I die too." By now, I could see the silhouette of a girl, who appeared to be exactly the same age as me. Her hair was long and white, as if she had never cut it once in her life, and her eyes were a deep, glowing red. She wore no clothes and her body was so white that it seemed to reflect light.

I rolled onto my back and stared into the darkness. I then sighed and quietly asked, "Can we just die together then?"

"No can do." She said, "I've lived through countless lives before. I'm not going to die now. Not in this way."

I felt her body climbing on me, but I didn't move. I then saw her face appear in front of me and stare directly into my eyes. I looked away, as I always did before saying, "Look. I don't know who you are, but I'm not obligated to protect you. You said you are a guardian. Respect my wishes. Let me die in peace."

She then moved away so her head was resting on my chest. "How about we tag-team instead? Any time you feel worried or stressed, I can take over and control your body in your absence. Whenever you feel up to it again, you can kick me out and live life as you normally would."

Somehow, her words were comforting to me. I could not think of the last time someone offered a helping hand when I was struggling. I unconsciously wrapped my arms around her and began crying silently. We laid there for what felt like hours before I had calmed down enough to say anything.

I then said, "I don't know who you are or why you are helping me, but please take over for a bit."

She sat up and rolled over, pulling me forward. "Don't worry. Life is hard. We'll get through this together." She stood up and stretched a bit before taking a deep breath. "Ok. My turn. Let me know when you want to swap out again."

"Wait," I grabbed her hand. "Before you go... I just wanted to say 'thanks.'"

"No problem. Again, we'll get through this." She then dove head-first into the platform beneath us, creating a small ripple that propagated throughout.

From the platform, I could see the world through my eyes as I picked myself up and brushed off the dirt before scaling the ladder again and collecting my bag. I heard the bell ring, dismissing the first class, and saw myself enter the doorway to the school.

"What room are we going to?" I heard my guardian's voice echoing throughout the chamber.

"202" I called back, "It's geometry, so it should be easy."

"Thanks!" She called back.

I then took a deep breath, rolled on my back, and stared off into space. For the first time in forever, I felt comfortable – happy even. As I drifted off into sleep, I touched the screen on the floor.

We would get through it. Together.

Prompt: You have just been possessed by a Demon. Fortunately, it did so with the intent to help you, rather than harm.

+The Helpful Demon · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Helpful Demon

Note: suicide trigger warning

I closed the door to my car and looked up at the schoolyard. At this time in the morning, there were a few people standing about, chatting before their first class. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before imagining myself walking through the crowd and entering class without talking to a single person. It would be easy. Everyone can do that, right? I just need to do it. Don't think, just act.

When I opened my eyes again and analyzed the scene, my heart and mind began racing. There's no way I could walk through a crowd without attracting attention, and I could feel their eyes drilling into me. Women would casually glance at me before giggling to themselves among their cliques. Men would look down on me for being too fat. Acquaintances would see me and try to use me like they always did.

The longer I looked, the more nauseous I felt until I had to open the door again and sit back down. I couldn't do it. I knew I should have woken up earlier. If I had managed to arrive at 6:00, I could have avoided the situation entirely.

From within the safety of my car, I scanned for alternative paths. At this time of the morning, I knew the janitor would have opened up a side door, and if I jogged around campus, I could make it in to class without people seeing me. I silently nodded and took another deep breath before opening the door again and quickly walking away from the entrance to the school.

Once I was definitely out of view, I began jogging a bit to make sure I could make it into class on time. As I approached the side door, I saw a student walking in from the distance. They didn't seem to notice me at the time, but I unconsciously hugged a wall to avoid them.

What was I supposed to do? The student was approaching and they would see me soon no matter what I did. What was I supposed to say when they saw me just standing there? As the student approached, a knot tightened in the pit of my stomach and I began to breath quickly.

I then noticed a small hatch to my right that would lead me to the roof. Without thinking, I scaled the ladder to avoid being seen. I then rolled on my back and stared into the sky.

After a few seconds of rest, I stood up and looked over the edge to see if the student had made it past and once they did, I let out another sigh of relief. It was then that I realized I was two stories off the ground. I still had to make it back down and get into class by 8:00. What time was it now?

As I fumbled for my phone to check the time, I heard the bell ring. No matter what I did, I would not make it in time. I shuddered as I tried to envision myself walking into class late. What would the teacher think? Would they call me out for it? Would the students laugh among themselves and make fun of me for sleeping in? I couldn't do it.

I would have to wait until the next class started. At the time, I didn't know what to do, so I sat there on the roof, alone, left to my own thoughts.

What was I doing? I was so socially anxious I couldn't stand being seen by anyone. I didn't have any friends. My family hated being around me. I was the worst of the worst.

What could I do? I was already doing the best I could and I was so, incredibly tired. I was tired of skipping meals due to my own inability to eat food with people around. I was tired of puking every morning when people gave me a sideways glance. I was tired of living.

I looked over the edge again and realized that there was one thing I could do. I could jump.

A wave of euphoria spread over me with that thought. I could just end it all, right here, right now. No more people. Just me, alone for eternity.

I had always chickened out on previous attempts, but not this time. There was no one to stop me. I could finally sleep for good.

I stood up and took a deep breath, leaving my bag on the rooftop. This was it. I couldn't look back.

I charged to the edge of the roof and jumped, head-first towards the ground.

My heart fluttered in the air, but I was not nervous. No, I was excited. This was the first time I ever truly felt alive! Time seemed to slow down as I fell, and my own miserable life began flashing through my mind.

All of the people that made fun of me for simply existing. All of the eyes that stared at me for no reason. All of the secret conversations and giggling behind my back.

They would all end now, in this instant.

As I hit the ground, I heard and felt a distinct crack, like the breaking of glass and felt my body fall through the earth. When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting on a flat surface, but was covered in complete darkness.

Suddenly, a small, rectangular light glowed in the distance, followed by another and then another. More and more rectangles began glowing, forming a type of staircase that lead directly to me. Then the platform under me began to glow, reflecting the sky and the school's wall where I had jumped.

An androgynous voice then called out, "Hello. I'm glad I finally found you." I could hear footsteps slowly descending the stairs from the distance.

"Hello?" I called back, "Who are you?"

"An angel. A demon." By now I could see a figure in the distance. "A guardian, of sorts."

"Guardian? What the heck is a guardian? Why am I still alive?"

"You are alive because I want you to be alive. Without you, I die too." By now, I could see the silhouette of a girl, who appeared to be exactly the same age as me. Her hair was long and white, as if she had never cut it once in her life, and her eyes were a deep, glowing red. She wore no clothes and her body was so white that it seemed to reflect light.

I rolled onto my back and stared into the darkness. I then sighed and quietly asked, "Can we just die together then?"

"No can do." She said, "I've lived through countless lives before. I'm not going to die now. Not in this way."

I felt her body climbing on me, but I didn't move. I then saw her face appear in front of me and stare directly into my eyes. I looked away, as I always did before saying, "Look. I don't know who you are, but I'm not obligated to protect you. You said you are a guardian. Respect my wishes. Let me die in peace."

She then moved away so her head was resting on my chest. "How about we tag-team instead? Any time you feel worried or stressed, I can take over and control your body in your absence. Whenever you feel up to it again, you can kick me out and live life as you normally would."

Somehow, her words were comforting to me. I could not think of the last time someone offered a helping hand when I was struggling. I unconsciously wrapped my arms around her and began crying silently. We laid there for what felt like hours before I had calmed down enough to say anything.

I then said, "I don't know who you are or why you are helping me, but please take over for a bit."

She sat up and rolled over, pulling me forward. "Don't worry. Life is hard. We'll get through this together." She stood up and stretched a bit before taking a deep breath. "Ok. My turn. Let me know when you want to swap out again."

"Wait," I grabbed her hand. "Before you go... I just wanted to say 'thanks.'"

"No problem. Again, we'll get through this." She then dove head-first into the platform beneath us, creating a small ripple that propagated throughout.

From the platform, I could see the world through my eyes as I picked myself up and brushed off the dirt before scaling the ladder again and collecting my bag. I heard the bell ring, dismissing the first class, and saw myself enter the doorway to the school.

"What room are we going to?" I heard my guardian's voice echoing throughout the chamber.

"202" I called back, "It's geometry, so it should be easy."

"Thanks!" She called back.

I then took a deep breath, rolled on my back, and stared off into space. For the first time in forever, I felt comfortable – happy even. As I drifted off into sleep, I touched the screen on the floor.

We would get through it. Together.

Prompt: You have just been possessed by a Demon. Fortunately, it did so with the intent to help you, rather than harm.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/December/27/index.html b/content/2020/December/27/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/December/27/index.html rename to content/2020/December/27/index.html index 9d0f8cd..07efcba 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/December/27/index.html +++ b/content/2020/December/27/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Reincarnated Happiness · Scribbleios
GitHub

Reincarnated Happiness

One thing is certain: money cannot buy happiness, but it can fund research into new, fundamental ways to achieve happiness.

I sat across a long table with roughly a dozen empty chairs while a young scientist presented her work on a projector. Traditionally, this room was used for meetings with the most prestigious members of the board, and because the room was designed for a very specific, elite purpose, very few people would enter without permission. For this reason, I would also regularly use the room for meetings I did not want others to know about. Meetings like this one.

While she was speaking, I found myself drifting off a bit and inspecting her features. A strong jaw. Stunning blue eyes. Dark, wavy hair that seemed to bounce whenever she pointed to the board. She was smart, charming, and kind. Nothing short of a perfect woman.

She suddenly became quiet before asking, "Did you hear me?"

I shook myself out of whatever trance I had fallen into before responding, "I think so. You are saying that with the right equipment, you could monitor an embryo and ensure that its brain develops neural connections that mimic another individual?"

"Yes. Effectively, making the baby 'remember everything from their past life,' if you want to put it that way." She then paused before moving on to the next slide, "The issue is with the concept of individual perception. It is unclear if you could transfer your consciousness to the new individual or not."

I nodded slightly, "I see. Going back to a previous point: you mentioned that you could also modify the genome so that the baby would be completely customizable?"

"Yes, but you are missing the point. Right now, the new person would simply be a carbon copy of the old one put into a new body. It would not be 'reincarnation' without the ability to also perceive the world from that new body. More than that, there is a huge ethical dilemma with this concept because we would be effectively killing a child and taking over their body."

I tapped my finger on the table. "If the child is modified since their before birth to be a shell for a new person, then there is no ethical issue, so far as I'm concerned."

"Maybe." The researcher took a deep breath before continuing, "What I am trying to say is that we are close, but not there yet. We need more funding for this last step."

I knew this was coming and had saved up for it. "How much more funding?"

"At least enough for another decade of research." She tried to look me in the eye, but failed and instead looked down to the table.

"So 100 million USD?" I asked.

"About that, I believe." She replied.

"And how much would the procedure cost?"

"I don't know."

"Ballpark estimate?"

"Probably 1 billion?

"1 billion dollars?" I took a deep breath and sighed. I didn't have the money yet, but I might in 10 years at the current rate of business. "I'll pay it."

I saw a wave of relief wash over the researcher's face. "Thank you. We won't let you down."

"You better not." I still needed time to get the funding, myself.

Twenty years later, I woke up in a rather small bedroom. The walls were a soft lavender color, and my sheets were a subtle blue. Across from me was a large vanity.

I jumped out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a small girl with a strong jaw, clear skin, and dazzling blue eyes. I engineered myself to be as smart, athletic, and beautiful as I could, using my old research lead as a model. I had to sell everything I owned, including my old business, but it was worth it.

For the first time, I was excited to wake up in the morning and live my best life.

Money couldn't buy happiness, but it could buy me a new life. A new chance to be happy.

Prompt: After acquiring a certain amount of wealth, it can be exchanged for an "extra life"

+Reincarnated Happiness · Scribbleios
GitHub

Reincarnated Happiness

One thing is certain: money cannot buy happiness, but it can fund research into new, fundamental ways to achieve happiness.

I sat across a long table with roughly a dozen empty chairs while a young scientist presented her work on a projector. Traditionally, this room was used for meetings with the most prestigious members of the board, and because the room was designed for a very specific, elite purpose, very few people would enter without permission. For this reason, I would also regularly use the room for meetings I did not want others to know about. Meetings like this one.

While she was speaking, I found myself drifting off a bit and inspecting her features. A strong jaw. Stunning blue eyes. Dark, wavy hair that seemed to bounce whenever she pointed to the board. She was smart, charming, and kind. Nothing short of a perfect woman.

She suddenly became quiet before asking, "Did you hear me?"

I shook myself out of whatever trance I had fallen into before responding, "I think so. You are saying that with the right equipment, you could monitor an embryo and ensure that its brain develops neural connections that mimic another individual?"

"Yes. Effectively, making the baby 'remember everything from their past life,' if you want to put it that way." She then paused before moving on to the next slide, "The issue is with the concept of individual perception. It is unclear if you could transfer your consciousness to the new individual or not."

I nodded slightly, "I see. Going back to a previous point: you mentioned that you could also modify the genome so that the baby would be completely customizable?"

"Yes, but you are missing the point. Right now, the new person would simply be a carbon copy of the old one put into a new body. It would not be 'reincarnation' without the ability to also perceive the world from that new body. More than that, there is a huge ethical dilemma with this concept because we would be effectively killing a child and taking over their body."

I tapped my finger on the table. "If the child is modified since their before birth to be a shell for a new person, then there is no ethical issue, so far as I'm concerned."

"Maybe." The researcher took a deep breath before continuing, "What I am trying to say is that we are close, but not there yet. We need more funding for this last step."

I knew this was coming and had saved up for it. "How much more funding?"

"At least enough for another decade of research." She tried to look me in the eye, but failed and instead looked down to the table.

"So 100 million USD?" I asked.

"About that, I believe." She replied.

"And how much would the procedure cost?"

"I don't know."

"Ballpark estimate?"

"Probably 1 billion?

"1 billion dollars?" I took a deep breath and sighed. I didn't have the money yet, but I might in 10 years at the current rate of business. "I'll pay it."

I saw a wave of relief wash over the researcher's face. "Thank you. We won't let you down."

"You better not." I still needed time to get the funding, myself.

Twenty years later, I woke up in a rather small bedroom. The walls were a soft lavender color, and my sheets were a subtle blue. Across from me was a large vanity.

I jumped out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a small girl with a strong jaw, clear skin, and dazzling blue eyes. I engineered myself to be as smart, athletic, and beautiful as I could, using my old research lead as a model. I had to sell everything I owned, including my old business, but it was worth it.

For the first time, I was excited to wake up in the morning and live my best life.

Money couldn't buy happiness, but it could buy me a new life. A new chance to be happy.

Prompt: After acquiring a certain amount of wealth, it can be exchanged for an "extra life"

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/July/1/index.html b/content/2020/July/1/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/July/1/index.html rename to content/2020/July/1/index.html index 1021f43..fa0ca09 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/July/1/index.html +++ b/content/2020/July/1/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Tree Traversing Super Power · Scribbleios
GitHub

Tree Traversing Super Power

"Tree traversal is a common technique used in computer programming to recurse through a data structure with multiple diverging paths."

A gruff older gentleman with a beard longer than his face and a rotund belly looked up from a mass of papers on his desk, right into the eyes of his team. A smoldering cigar rested between grimacing lips, and his nose flared in anger.

"Why do I bring this up?" His hands waved in the air to emphasize his anger, "Because that's precisely the boring-ass-backwards logic this super is working with! It's like God almighty forgot how to code while piecing together the universe and said, 'Fuck it! We'll try meta-programming out!'"

Across the table was a group of 5 individuals from varying walks of life. A younger man with dark skin, leaning back in his chair, with one leg propped on the tabletop. He went by Charr. Another man, roughly the same age, but no more empathetic, sat next to him. This one was Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, he had left the lab specifically for this meeting and was not happy to be seen with the rest of the team

An older lady by the name of Stevoni seemed to be sleeping at the wheel. In fact, if someone were to listen closely, they might hear a gentle snore. Finally, there was a younger girl, clearly no older than high school, with dark brown hair and a concerned look. She was Jackie, and her concern was not at all related to the meeting. No, she just found a segfault on line 204 of her script and she could not quite figure it out.

The gruff gentleman went by Beck. He started again, "The super's name is simply Julia, which is not a moniker or nickname. It's her real name, and she's slippery–"

Jackie giggled, interrupting the flow. "She probably uses Julia, right?" She adjusted her gaze to Beck, across the table. "I know her type. She thinks that by adding one more framework to the list, all the world's problems will be solved."

She then leaned forward and shut her laptop. "She's just programming on the many-world's level. She's just searching through all possible movements in an odd form of an expression tree. Each inner node is constructed based on when any one of her many world interpretations decides it wants to split."

Charr gave Jackie a sideways glance. "What the fuck does any of that mean?"

"It means she's an idiot. She's probably not even intending to do anything nefarious, it's just that one of her forms in another dimension could do something bad, and those are the ones we are catching." Jackie sighed and stared up at the ceiling, clearly more apathetic than anyone else in the room, "She's going to die soon at this rate, so we don't have to worry about it."

Stevoni sat up, "Die? Did you say DIE?" She lifted her fists and started swinging them in the air like some form of cartoon character, "I still have a few years of fight left in me."

"Grandma, this wasn't about you." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, hand-waved Stevoni's comment before continuing. "The girl we were talking about has a rather unique ability. Correct me if I'm wrong, Jackie, but this girl is using her own life force as a form of computer memory, right?"

"Right." Jackie began tapping her finger on the table impatiently.

"I assume she only has a limited amount of energy to spend. She's only human, after all." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD suddenly pulled a chalkboard out of nowhere and began scribbling a series of equations. He then began babbling a bunch of incoherent math, which no one understood except him. "...Which leads me to believe that, biologically speaking, she will have a memory overflow error in about a day."

Beck shifted his gaze to Jackie, "Well?" He asked impertinently.

"Well, what?" Jackie opened her laptop again and began typing furiously.

"Well, child..." Bert's face was now beet red, "Is what he said true."

"Of course it's true!" Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, stated. "This was discovered in the 1980s by none other than Stevoni."

"Ah, what?" Stevoni perked up again. "Sure, sure, dear. Anything you say."

Jackie shrugged, "There you go. It apparently makes sense."

Bert let out an exasperated sigh. "Lookie here. My ass is on the line. She's caused millions of dollars of damage and is primed to do billions if we don't stop her..."

"We get it, old man." Carr sat up, slamming his foot on the ground in the process. "Jackie, what do we do?"

"Well, we could just let her die. Once she's gone, the damage will be gone as well."

"No." Charr turned his head, furious with Jackie's suggestion. "We save her too, just like all the other supers."

Jackie pursed her lips and stared directly into Charr's eyes, while still typing furiously. "Fine. Whatever. The easiest way is just to cause a segfault."

"I don't care what that is." Charr rubbed his temples and sighed, clearly a bit embarrassed about his fit of anger to someone he called a friend. "Just tell me what to do."

Jackie sighed. "I don't really know. She's a teenage girl, clearly getting into coding for the first time without any care in the world. Her script isn't bad for a first attempt, but the only termination condition she provided was 'when the node dies, kill the process too.' This created a number of other Julias floating about without a purpose and causing havoc." Jackie paused, and stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together the next move. She was clearly just as exasperated as everyone else. "We need to do something her program didn't expect."

"Like what?" Bert was no longer angry, but still quite terse.

Jackie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know. We have to do something an angsty teenage girl wouldn't think about... Maybe we create an undefined variable in her scope?"

"Which means..." This time, Charr too had calmed down.

Stevoni spoke up. "We need to get into her scope. We need to become her friends." She then clacked her lips in satisfaction and nodded, sitting back with her arms crossed.

"That is the cheesiest motherfucking thing I have ever heard!" Bert exploded. "This isn't some high-school anime! We cannot save the world through the power of friendship!"

"It's not really friendship." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, spoke up. "It's exactly what I proved on the board."

"How in Hell's boiling pit of black soot did I get this group to work with? Are you kidding me?" Bert began fuming, flailing his arms onto the table.

"Well, I say we go for it!" Charr stood up. "It's the only course of action we have. Besides, we could use some more people on our team."

"Yeah, let's go." Jackie shut her laptop. "It'll be nice to have a fellow programmer on-board. Besides, I'm not getting any work done here."

Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, followed. "Yeah. I need to get back to lab. You guys can handle it, right?"

"Yeah, we got this." Jackie and Charr responded almost simultaneously and giggled to each other.

Stevoni, of course, had fallen asleep, but was muttering softly to herself about the power of friendship and common sense.

That was how the Super Protection Squad got it's newest member, Julia.

Prompt: Your anti-superpower team's target is someone who has speculative execution and out-of-order processing abilities. The person can flee in a car and then hot-wire it to start it while simultaneously hiding instead of fleeing, and then invalidate unneeded actions

+Tree Traversing Super Power · Scribbleios
GitHub

Tree Traversing Super Power

"Tree traversal is a common technique used in computer programming to recurse through a data structure with multiple diverging paths."

A gruff older gentleman with a beard longer than his face and a rotund belly looked up from a mass of papers on his desk, right into the eyes of his team. A smoldering cigar rested between grimacing lips, and his nose flared in anger.

"Why do I bring this up?" His hands waved in the air to emphasize his anger, "Because that's precisely the boring-ass-backwards logic this super is working with! It's like God almighty forgot how to code while piecing together the universe and said, 'Fuck it! We'll try meta-programming out!'"

Across the table was a group of 5 individuals from varying walks of life. A younger man with dark skin, leaning back in his chair, with one leg propped on the tabletop. He went by Charr. Another man, roughly the same age, but no more empathetic, sat next to him. This one was Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, he had left the lab specifically for this meeting and was not happy to be seen with the rest of the team

An older lady by the name of Stevoni seemed to be sleeping at the wheel. In fact, if someone were to listen closely, they might hear a gentle snore. Finally, there was a younger girl, clearly no older than high school, with dark brown hair and a concerned look. She was Jackie, and her concern was not at all related to the meeting. No, she just found a segfault on line 204 of her script and she could not quite figure it out.

The gruff gentleman went by Beck. He started again, "The super's name is simply Julia, which is not a moniker or nickname. It's her real name, and she's slippery–"

Jackie giggled, interrupting the flow. "She probably uses Julia, right?" She adjusted her gaze to Beck, across the table. "I know her type. She thinks that by adding one more framework to the list, all the world's problems will be solved."

She then leaned forward and shut her laptop. "She's just programming on the many-world's level. She's just searching through all possible movements in an odd form of an expression tree. Each inner node is constructed based on when any one of her many world interpretations decides it wants to split."

Charr gave Jackie a sideways glance. "What the fuck does any of that mean?"

"It means she's an idiot. She's probably not even intending to do anything nefarious, it's just that one of her forms in another dimension could do something bad, and those are the ones we are catching." Jackie sighed and stared up at the ceiling, clearly more apathetic than anyone else in the room, "She's going to die soon at this rate, so we don't have to worry about it."

Stevoni sat up, "Die? Did you say DIE?" She lifted her fists and started swinging them in the air like some form of cartoon character, "I still have a few years of fight left in me."

"Grandma, this wasn't about you." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, hand-waved Stevoni's comment before continuing. "The girl we were talking about has a rather unique ability. Correct me if I'm wrong, Jackie, but this girl is using her own life force as a form of computer memory, right?"

"Right." Jackie began tapping her finger on the table impatiently.

"I assume she only has a limited amount of energy to spend. She's only human, after all." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD suddenly pulled a chalkboard out of nowhere and began scribbling a series of equations. He then began babbling a bunch of incoherent math, which no one understood except him. "...Which leads me to believe that, biologically speaking, she will have a memory overflow error in about a day."

Beck shifted his gaze to Jackie, "Well?" He asked impertinently.

"Well, what?" Jackie opened her laptop again and began typing furiously.

"Well, child..." Bert's face was now beet red, "Is what he said true."

"Of course it's true!" Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, stated. "This was discovered in the 1980s by none other than Stevoni."

"Ah, what?" Stevoni perked up again. "Sure, sure, dear. Anything you say."

Jackie shrugged, "There you go. It apparently makes sense."

Bert let out an exasperated sigh. "Lookie here. My ass is on the line. She's caused millions of dollars of damage and is primed to do billions if we don't stop her..."

"We get it, old man." Carr sat up, slamming his foot on the ground in the process. "Jackie, what do we do?"

"Well, we could just let her die. Once she's gone, the damage will be gone as well."

"No." Charr turned his head, furious with Jackie's suggestion. "We save her too, just like all the other supers."

Jackie pursed her lips and stared directly into Charr's eyes, while still typing furiously. "Fine. Whatever. The easiest way is just to cause a segfault."

"I don't care what that is." Charr rubbed his temples and sighed, clearly a bit embarrassed about his fit of anger to someone he called a friend. "Just tell me what to do."

Jackie sighed. "I don't really know. She's a teenage girl, clearly getting into coding for the first time without any care in the world. Her script isn't bad for a first attempt, but the only termination condition she provided was 'when the node dies, kill the process too.' This created a number of other Julias floating about without a purpose and causing havoc." Jackie paused, and stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together the next move. She was clearly just as exasperated as everyone else. "We need to do something her program didn't expect."

"Like what?" Bert was no longer angry, but still quite terse.

Jackie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I don't know. We have to do something an angsty teenage girl wouldn't think about... Maybe we create an undefined variable in her scope?"

"Which means..." This time, Charr too had calmed down.

Stevoni spoke up. "We need to get into her scope. We need to become her friends." She then clacked her lips in satisfaction and nodded, sitting back with her arms crossed.

"That is the cheesiest motherfucking thing I have ever heard!" Bert exploded. "This isn't some high-school anime! We cannot save the world through the power of friendship!"

"It's not really friendship." Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, spoke up. "It's exactly what I proved on the board."

"How in Hell's boiling pit of black soot did I get this group to work with? Are you kidding me?" Bert began fuming, flailing his arms onto the table.

"Well, I say we go for it!" Charr stood up. "It's the only course of action we have. Besides, we could use some more people on our team."

"Yeah, let's go." Jackie shut her laptop. "It'll be nice to have a fellow programmer on-board. Besides, I'm not getting any work done here."

Dr. Professor Pete Greg, PhD, followed. "Yeah. I need to get back to lab. You guys can handle it, right?"

"Yeah, we got this." Jackie and Charr responded almost simultaneously and giggled to each other.

Stevoni, of course, had fallen asleep, but was muttering softly to herself about the power of friendship and common sense.

That was how the Super Protection Squad got it's newest member, Julia.

Prompt: Your anti-superpower team's target is someone who has speculative execution and out-of-order processing abilities. The person can flee in a car and then hot-wire it to start it while simultaneously hiding instead of fleeing, and then invalidate unneeded actions

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/July/2/index.html b/content/2020/July/2/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/July/2/index.html rename to content/2020/July/2/index.html index 51ea5e4..77213fd 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/July/2/index.html +++ b/content/2020/July/2/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Demon Professor · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Demon Professor

"... And that concludes lecture 1, where we discussed how to tell demon summoning circles apart from hopscotch. Essentially, if you see squares in a row, do not shoot – especially not if the human drawing it appears to be a little boy. If it's a little girl, ask if it's in the girlscouts. If it's not, then – and only then – you can shoot."

I rested my chalk on the tray next to the board and clapped the dust off my hands before looking into the audience to make sure everyone understood. The girlscouts had sued our department so many times for lack of training, it simply would not be worth killing another one.

"Ok then. Class dismissed. I'll see you on Tuesday when we discuss the demonic origin story for the Nickelodean hit television show, Chalk Zone."

All the students began zipping up their bags while I tidied up my notes. As I did so, a female graduate student walked down to the front. She had dark, curly hair and a pale complexion, blue eyes and a button nose.

"Ah, Christina!" I preempted her greeting, "How is the research into demonic detection going?"

"I think it is going well." She was holding a book tight to her chest, but still lifted a finger to her lip and paused for a second. She then pointed to the demon circle I had drawn on the board. "I think you made a mistake in the lecture."

I laughed, "It happens. I'll correct it next time. What did I do? Miscount the hopscotch squares?"

"No, I think you impartially drew the 5th astral line for the Faerie circle." She opened the book to page 152 and rested it on the desk in front of her. "I guess it's a simple mistake to make. Jupiter is off by 5 centimeters because of the asteroid belt."

"Ah yeah." I held my bravado and laughed a bit. She couldn't know any better, right? "That's a really dumb mistake to make, after all–"

She cut me off, "You were the one who originally published on the importance of the asteroid belt for summoning greater demons in the first place." She paused again and flipped a few pages forward to 182. I knew what she was looking for before she did. "I've always found it interesting that without the asteroid belt, the summoning circles turn into teleportation circles for greater demons... What you drew there looks identical to what we have here." She pointed to the diagram in the book.

"Oh yeah? Let me see..." I sighed a bit and leaned over her shoulder. I didn't look at the book. She was right. I drew a teleportation circle. "You know what? You are completely right. I certainly need to correct this next lecture so people do not get confused."

"Right?" She nodded. "I was confused when you drew it, but if it's a mistake, it's a mistake."

I rubbed my temples, attempting to sound exasperated. I was actually relieved she didn't dig into it any deeper. "Yeah. Again, I don't know what I was thinking. I'll give you a bonus point at the end of the semester for that one!"

"No need... As long as you have a space in your lab next term?" She didn't look up from the book. She was obviously new at academic negotiations.

I could feel beads of sweat form behind my ears. She had guts. Charisma. Skill. This girl could become a leading academic in circle theory if she kept at it, but I couldn't have someone like her in my lab.

I scratched the back of my head. "It's not a question of skill. You are definitely good enough to be in my lab. It's a question of funding. I didn't do very well in the last grant cycle, so..."

She cut me off again, "Ah. I have funding actually. I have a large following on HunterTube for open source circle scribing. It's not much, but it's enough to fund my research for the next few years, if you'll have me." She closed the book and looked up, right into my eyes.

Damn. She was good.

"Ok. Well, I guess I can't refuse! Put your CV on my desk tomorrow so I can process the paperwork!"

"Really?" She jumped up. "I am so excited! I have been such a big fan of your work since I was a little girl and we learned about you in jr. high! The work you did to harness Pandora's energy to replace fossil fuel was genius!" She raced to the board and grabbed the eraser while talking.

"Wait. Wait!" I held out my hand. "Don't worry about erasing that. I got it."

"No seriously, it's no problem!" She then began vigorously erasing while I cringed. The next class was starting in 5 minutes. That wasn't enough time to make a new teleportation circle. I finished collecting my things while she erased my only escape route.

"Ok. I guess I'll stop by later today with my CV." She said while dropping the eraser back into the tray. I watched helplessly as the dust flittered in the air.

"Yup! I'll See you then!" I laughed to hide the concern I felt.

"Would you mind if I walked you back to your office? I have so many questions and –"

I cut her off. "No. Wait. No need. We can talk later today! I just remembered that I need to audit the next lecture to make sure the professor is teaching properly. Please stop by at 4, if you can!"

"Great! See you then." She dashed out of the room, clearly happy to begin her journey into research. Honestly, I was happy for her.

However, I was stuck.

As a new security measure, the university had placed functional demon detectors outside of every room, capable of finding and incinerating demons of all levels, including those previously impossible to find. Demons like myself.

If I left the classroom in via any traditional route, I would me immediately vaporized. Even worse than that, people would realize I was a demon and retract every single academic article I have ever published!

So I guess I'm sitting in the next lecture on circle error detection while I scribble the circle under my desk.

Prompt: In the Demon Hunters Academy you are known as the very best professor, 80 years old but still in your prime, but you're secretly a demon, and the academy recently got some new demonic detectors, and as opposed to the old ones, these actually work. you can only avoid the main hall for so long.

+The Demon Professor · Scribbleios
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The Demon Professor

"... And that concludes lecture 1, where we discussed how to tell demon summoning circles apart from hopscotch. Essentially, if you see squares in a row, do not shoot – especially not if the human drawing it appears to be a little boy. If it's a little girl, ask if it's in the girlscouts. If it's not, then – and only then – you can shoot."

I rested my chalk on the tray next to the board and clapped the dust off my hands before looking into the audience to make sure everyone understood. The girlscouts had sued our department so many times for lack of training, it simply would not be worth killing another one.

"Ok then. Class dismissed. I'll see you on Tuesday when we discuss the demonic origin story for the Nickelodean hit television show, Chalk Zone."

All the students began zipping up their bags while I tidied up my notes. As I did so, a female graduate student walked down to the front. She had dark, curly hair and a pale complexion, blue eyes and a button nose.

"Ah, Christina!" I preempted her greeting, "How is the research into demonic detection going?"

"I think it is going well." She was holding a book tight to her chest, but still lifted a finger to her lip and paused for a second. She then pointed to the demon circle I had drawn on the board. "I think you made a mistake in the lecture."

I laughed, "It happens. I'll correct it next time. What did I do? Miscount the hopscotch squares?"

"No, I think you impartially drew the 5th astral line for the Faerie circle." She opened the book to page 152 and rested it on the desk in front of her. "I guess it's a simple mistake to make. Jupiter is off by 5 centimeters because of the asteroid belt."

"Ah yeah." I held my bravado and laughed a bit. She couldn't know any better, right? "That's a really dumb mistake to make, after all–"

She cut me off, "You were the one who originally published on the importance of the asteroid belt for summoning greater demons in the first place." She paused again and flipped a few pages forward to 182. I knew what she was looking for before she did. "I've always found it interesting that without the asteroid belt, the summoning circles turn into teleportation circles for greater demons... What you drew there looks identical to what we have here." She pointed to the diagram in the book.

"Oh yeah? Let me see..." I sighed a bit and leaned over her shoulder. I didn't look at the book. She was right. I drew a teleportation circle. "You know what? You are completely right. I certainly need to correct this next lecture so people do not get confused."

"Right?" She nodded. "I was confused when you drew it, but if it's a mistake, it's a mistake."

I rubbed my temples, attempting to sound exasperated. I was actually relieved she didn't dig into it any deeper. "Yeah. Again, I don't know what I was thinking. I'll give you a bonus point at the end of the semester for that one!"

"No need... As long as you have a space in your lab next term?" She didn't look up from the book. She was obviously new at academic negotiations.

I could feel beads of sweat form behind my ears. She had guts. Charisma. Skill. This girl could become a leading academic in circle theory if she kept at it, but I couldn't have someone like her in my lab.

I scratched the back of my head. "It's not a question of skill. You are definitely good enough to be in my lab. It's a question of funding. I didn't do very well in the last grant cycle, so..."

She cut me off again, "Ah. I have funding actually. I have a large following on HunterTube for open source circle scribing. It's not much, but it's enough to fund my research for the next few years, if you'll have me." She closed the book and looked up, right into my eyes.

Damn. She was good.

"Ok. Well, I guess I can't refuse! Put your CV on my desk tomorrow so I can process the paperwork!"

"Really?" She jumped up. "I am so excited! I have been such a big fan of your work since I was a little girl and we learned about you in jr. high! The work you did to harness Pandora's energy to replace fossil fuel was genius!" She raced to the board and grabbed the eraser while talking.

"Wait. Wait!" I held out my hand. "Don't worry about erasing that. I got it."

"No seriously, it's no problem!" She then began vigorously erasing while I cringed. The next class was starting in 5 minutes. That wasn't enough time to make a new teleportation circle. I finished collecting my things while she erased my only escape route.

"Ok. I guess I'll stop by later today with my CV." She said while dropping the eraser back into the tray. I watched helplessly as the dust flittered in the air.

"Yup! I'll See you then!" I laughed to hide the concern I felt.

"Would you mind if I walked you back to your office? I have so many questions and –"

I cut her off. "No. Wait. No need. We can talk later today! I just remembered that I need to audit the next lecture to make sure the professor is teaching properly. Please stop by at 4, if you can!"

"Great! See you then." She dashed out of the room, clearly happy to begin her journey into research. Honestly, I was happy for her.

However, I was stuck.

As a new security measure, the university had placed functional demon detectors outside of every room, capable of finding and incinerating demons of all levels, including those previously impossible to find. Demons like myself.

If I left the classroom in via any traditional route, I would me immediately vaporized. Even worse than that, people would realize I was a demon and retract every single academic article I have ever published!

So I guess I'm sitting in the next lecture on circle error detection while I scribble the circle under my desk.

Prompt: In the Demon Hunters Academy you are known as the very best professor, 80 years old but still in your prime, but you're secretly a demon, and the academy recently got some new demonic detectors, and as opposed to the old ones, these actually work. you can only avoid the main hall for so long.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/July/3/index.html b/content/2020/July/3/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/July/3/index.html rename to content/2020/July/3/index.html index ea2a1d0..6353db6 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/July/3/index.html +++ b/content/2020/July/3/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Afraid of the Light · Scribbleios
GitHub

Afraid of the Light

I don't understand why anyone would ever go outside when the sun is out. It's hot, blinding, and will literally burn anything and everything it touches.

Cloudy days are much better. I can easily go outside without sunscreen or having to squint. In fact, rainy days are even better than that! I love the feeling of cool water dripping down my neck while running.

Also, swimming in a downpour is such a wonderful experience. It's just so surreal. On the surface, the world is in chaos, with globs of water falling from the heavens above, all coalescing into a beautiful white noise that drowns everything else out.

When diving deeper, the chaotic nature of the world above disappears completely into utter silence. The world below doesn't know or care about the storms above. Fish still swim. Reeds still grow. The sand hardly moves at all.

The surface of the water, once a window reflecting the bridge between the two worlds has become a tumultuous mirror, reflecting whatever images its surface can find.

I think the most beautiful part has nothing to do with imagery. It has nothing to do with any physical aspect of the scene I described. No. I think the most beautiful part is still one step deeper:

In that moment when you dip below the surface, it is possible to feel absolutely alone.

No sounds. No harsh sunlight. No people.

As of late, I've slowly come to realize that it's not sunlight that I hate, but the people it brings along with it.

For someone with social anxiety, there is nothing more terrifying than a human in broad daylight.

Prompt: While everyone else was always afraid of the dark, you've been afraid of the light, and now you know why.

+Afraid of the Light · Scribbleios
GitHub

Afraid of the Light

I don't understand why anyone would ever go outside when the sun is out. It's hot, blinding, and will literally burn anything and everything it touches.

Cloudy days are much better. I can easily go outside without sunscreen or having to squint. In fact, rainy days are even better than that! I love the feeling of cool water dripping down my neck while running.

Also, swimming in a downpour is such a wonderful experience. It's just so surreal. On the surface, the world is in chaos, with globs of water falling from the heavens above, all coalescing into a beautiful white noise that drowns everything else out.

When diving deeper, the chaotic nature of the world above disappears completely into utter silence. The world below doesn't know or care about the storms above. Fish still swim. Reeds still grow. The sand hardly moves at all.

The surface of the water, once a window reflecting the bridge between the two worlds has become a tumultuous mirror, reflecting whatever images its surface can find.

I think the most beautiful part has nothing to do with imagery. It has nothing to do with any physical aspect of the scene I described. No. I think the most beautiful part is still one step deeper:

In that moment when you dip below the surface, it is possible to feel absolutely alone.

No sounds. No harsh sunlight. No people.

As of late, I've slowly come to realize that it's not sunlight that I hate, but the people it brings along with it.

For someone with social anxiety, there is nothing more terrifying than a human in broad daylight.

Prompt: While everyone else was always afraid of the dark, you've been afraid of the light, and now you know why.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/July/4/index.html b/content/2020/July/4/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/July/4/index.html rename to content/2020/July/4/index.html index d113c81..fb3718d 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/July/4/index.html +++ b/content/2020/July/4/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Unsettling Sandwich · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Unsettling Sandwich

Small, fleshy tendrils convulsed in midair, bathed by a pale, synthetic light. Their owner – A tall creature with beady eyes and a shortened snout – stood expressionless above the table, examining its prey which had long since deceased. The creature appeared to have evolved from some form of mammal, not too dissimilar from us, but its bones seemed to have grown beyond what its skin could cover, as small pieces extruded from the tips of each of its feelers. Its fur was completely missing, except atop its head where it flowed a few feet towards the floor.

It clacked its unnaturally red lips, stained by the blood of other Earthly creatures, before slowly clasping the object on the table. Unlike other animals, the creature had the intelligence to combine several different forms of prey and had ground and baked different ingredients to create yet another dish. One that was more fitting of its gruesome pallette.

In its final form, the food had a soft, white outer shell and was filled with what could only be described as ground bones and blood. As the creature bit into it, red goo oozed from the back, falling back onto the table where a small plate rested, ready to catch any crumb so it could savor every last bite.

These creatures had become commonplace as of late, slowly taking over the world we once knew, forcing us into hiding. Legend has it that they will eat anything and everything they can find, but not before torturing it and flaying its dead corpse. These creatures were intelligent, ruthless, and vengeful. They were unwilling to share their space with other types of animals would happily murder others to have their way.

As I slowly backed into the shadows, watching the bag of flesh from behind a rut in the wall, I began to wonder what it's concoction tasted like. For something prepared so delicately, it must taste reasonable, right? I hadn't eaten in so long. There was nowhere to find food anymore after these beasts began stealing everything they could find and killing all my brethren.

Soon, the light was turned off, leaving the room in complete and utter darkness. If I were to escape, now would be my time. I listened for the creature's movements, waiting for the creaking floor to stop before dashing past the table it had been feasting at before. I could make it. There was a door at the far side of the room, if I could just...

The light turned on, and the creature shook the entire room with its shriek. I could feel my heart beat faster, I just had to keep running, but I could hear the giant's footsteps quickly stomping behind me as it roared.

I made it out into the tall grass and kept running as far as I could. I don't know how far, I ran exactly, but it was far enough that I could no longer see the house from the ground. I climbed a tree and looked behind me, ensuring it had not followed.

From this height, I could see the house in the distance and the ominous shadow of the creature, illuminated from behind by the same light as before. It was undoubtedly guarding its territory with guttural growls and shrieks, waiting for another animal to murder and consume.

This is the world from the perspective of a rat, watching a human eat a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, to be precise.

Prompt: Describe a completely normal scenario or activiry in a fashion that makes it unsettling.

+The Unsettling Sandwich · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Unsettling Sandwich

Small, fleshy tendrils convulsed in midair, bathed by a pale, synthetic light. Their owner – A tall creature with beady eyes and a shortened snout – stood expressionless above the table, examining its prey which had long since deceased. The creature appeared to have evolved from some form of mammal, not too dissimilar from us, but its bones seemed to have grown beyond what its skin could cover, as small pieces extruded from the tips of each of its feelers. Its fur was completely missing, except atop its head where it flowed a few feet towards the floor.

It clacked its unnaturally red lips, stained by the blood of other Earthly creatures, before slowly clasping the object on the table. Unlike other animals, the creature had the intelligence to combine several different forms of prey and had ground and baked different ingredients to create yet another dish. One that was more fitting of its gruesome pallette.

In its final form, the food had a soft, white outer shell and was filled with what could only be described as ground bones and blood. As the creature bit into it, red goo oozed from the back, falling back onto the table where a small plate rested, ready to catch any crumb so it could savor every last bite.

These creatures had become commonplace as of late, slowly taking over the world we once knew, forcing us into hiding. Legend has it that they will eat anything and everything they can find, but not before torturing it and flaying its dead corpse. These creatures were intelligent, ruthless, and vengeful. They were unwilling to share their space with other types of animals would happily murder others to have their way.

As I slowly backed into the shadows, watching the bag of flesh from behind a rut in the wall, I began to wonder what it's concoction tasted like. For something prepared so delicately, it must taste reasonable, right? I hadn't eaten in so long. There was nowhere to find food anymore after these beasts began stealing everything they could find and killing all my brethren.

Soon, the light was turned off, leaving the room in complete and utter darkness. If I were to escape, now would be my time. I listened for the creature's movements, waiting for the creaking floor to stop before dashing past the table it had been feasting at before. I could make it. There was a door at the far side of the room, if I could just...

The light turned on, and the creature shook the entire room with its shriek. I could feel my heart beat faster, I just had to keep running, but I could hear the giant's footsteps quickly stomping behind me as it roared.

I made it out into the tall grass and kept running as far as I could. I don't know how far, I ran exactly, but it was far enough that I could no longer see the house from the ground. I climbed a tree and looked behind me, ensuring it had not followed.

From this height, I could see the house in the distance and the ominous shadow of the creature, illuminated from behind by the same light as before. It was undoubtedly guarding its territory with guttural growls and shrieks, waiting for another animal to murder and consume.

This is the world from the perspective of a rat, watching a human eat a sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, to be precise.

Prompt: Describe a completely normal scenario or activiry in a fashion that makes it unsettling.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/July/6/index.html b/content/2020/July/6/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/July/6/index.html rename to content/2020/July/6/index.html index 202f3df..4423bb3 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/July/6/index.html +++ b/content/2020/July/6/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Sword and Shield · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Sword and Shield

When I was a child, my family lived atop a mighty mountain. The nights were cold and bitter and snow often settled on the land even in the middle of summer. At the time, I didn't know anything else. It was just my parents and me, alone for years.

Every weekend, my father would walk down the mountain to a local village and buy anything we needed for the week before returning late it the evening. One winter day, he didn't return, leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves in the middle of a harsh snowstorm.

My mother used our last resources to keep me alive.

I was trapped in the house for days without food or water, only subsisting on snow and ice. Suddenly a huge gust of wind shook the house, and when I opened the door, I found all the ice had melted, leaving beautifully green grass sprouting from the earth below. I was so hungry, I contemplating eating it!

As I looked up, I saw a man, clad entirely in a blue cloak with black accents. His hat had a wide brim and a pointy tip and a huge gray beard covered his chest. He was old and wizened and put his full weight on his walking staff with every step. This was the first human I had seen in years, and I didn't want him to leave like my parents just had.

He was walking away at the time, clearly unable to see me. I tried to call out, but my throat was too dry to make any noise. I did the only thing I could think of: I ran.

My legs were shaking under me with every step, and the world seemed to warp around me due to my hunger. I swear I could even hear my bones creak. The next thing I knew, I was tugging at the man's cloak, filled simultaneously with fear and hope.

He looked down to me, and then to the house with the door ajar. His glasses obscured his expression, but he then knelt down, caressed the back of my head, and said, "I am sorry I missed you, dear. Here. Come with me."

He held out his hand and we walked together, slowly making our way to his cottage, which was made of pure stone. At the time, I remember being fascinated with all the luminescent, boiling liquids and assortment of ridiculous items, but I was most interested in a loaf of bread just sitting on the table.

Without asking for permission, I dashed and began gobbling it up as fast as I could while the older man laughed, "Ho ho! I see you were hungry! Never fear! My house is always welcome to you!"

I didn't say anything and was choking slightly on the bread.

He continued, "I'm Samuel. What's your name, little girl?"

I swallowed and said, "Beth." Before immediately asking for water.

Sam and I lived together for years. I was taught to hunt and fish while he stayed inside, constantly reading and trying to make different concoctions. When I was about 10 or 12, he asked for my help in building a simple wooden shield. He insisted it be perfectly circular and comfortable to hold. He then had me collect various items for him: some gold and silver from a mountain mine, frog's urine, and bear's fur.

When I returned, he was stirring a pot of blue acid and asked me to put everything I had found inside. I did so, and the combination became black and viscous. He then looked at me and said, "The final ingredient is you," before pricking my finger and putting a single drop of blood inside. The moment it touched the mixture, everything glowed gold before turning into a brilliant blue.

We laid the shield on the table and completely covered it with the goo. Sam smiled a bit and said, "As long as you live, this will protect you. Nothing can break it once it dries." He then poured a small amount in a vial. "I will keep this for myself so I will always know if you are safe."

From that day forward, I was constantly training with the shield, learning how to defend myself against any creature or human. At some point in the middle of training, Sam said, "I think it's time for you to go into town and compete!"

"Compete?" I asked, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Yeah, there is a tournament going on every weekend. I believe your father won almost every round and used the money to buy food for you when you were younger." Sam pursed his lips a bit. "I suppose he was defeated by Lan, the boy with the perfect sword that could pierce through anything. He was given that sword by my sister. I just I cannot stand magic being used to harm others."

I didn't know what to say. Memories of my childhood flooded through me, and I could not handle the pain. I remember crying and hugging Sam for what seemed like hours, while he apologized and rubbed my back.

"You do not have to compete." Sam said, "I wasn't thinking when I said that. I thought it might be a good way to earn some money and start living your own life."

I didn't say anything, but wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Look, Beth. I don't care what you do, but I think living here, alone with me, is not good for a girl like you. You need to go out and see the world! It's time for adventure!" He then pulled me off of him and held my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. "Use the shield to protect those you care about, but first, go find those people."

He sighed a bit before continuing. "If you find Lan... Well, I added something to the shield mixture I don't think my sister would have thought of."

The next thing I knew, I found myself in a large stadium, competing in a battle royal with hundreds of opponents. I didn't bring a weapon besides my shield. I didn't intend to kill anyone, just survive the longest. I found the years of hunting and trapping animals gave be an advantage. I was more nimble than anyone else on the field.

In the chaos, I saw a man whose sword was glowing red. It sliced through anything and everything it touched. His chest was bare and covered in scars from the many battles he fought. With every swing, the bloodthirsty crowd cheered, desperately wanting more. It was Lan. I kept protecting myself and waiting for the moment he would come after me.

Strangely enough, he didn't. He slaughtered every other person on the field, leaving the two of us alone with a pile of corpses around us.

"You. Girl." He shouted, pointing his sword directly at me, "You don't belong here."

"Why not?" I yelled back

"I will not strike an unarmed woman."

"You killed my father and left me to starve atop a mountain. Every time you strike down another man, you kill their families as well."

I could see anger in his eyes and his sword flared a bright red. "I take back what I said. You deserve to die!" He leapt, lifting his sword high into the air and swinging it down onto my shield.

At that moment, I could feel the sword pierce into me. It had broken the shield. No. That couldn't be. I was still alive, so the shield must be unbroken.

I looked up, only to see Lan's sword resting on the surface of the shield. Time, itself, had frozen. Two simultaneous paths opened up: one where he won, and another where I did.

In that moment, I knew it was a battle of wills. I could still feel immense pain in my side, but also saw the sword and shield glowing a bright red and blue. I could win this. As my confidence grew, so did the blue aura of the shield, eventually engulfing the sword and Lan completely. The light became blinding, but when it vanished, Lan was gone.

I knelt down, grabbing my side where the sword had hit before, only to feel the wound closing on its own. By the time I looked down, there was no blood at all.

There were no cheers for me. No booing either. The crowd was completely baffled, as was I. As I left, I collected my prize money before buying a loaf of bread and climbing back up the mountain to ask Sam what happened.

In that moment, I genuinely felt happy – as if I had redeemed my father from so many years ago. I also felt Sam was right. I was ripe for an adventure or two.

Prompt: You are the most skilled warrior in your kingdom & you are gifted by your impenetrable, magic shield that is given to you by a wizard. One day you are challenged to a duel by another warrior, who is known for his magic sword that is given to him by a witch, that can penetrate through anything

+The Sword and Shield · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Sword and Shield

When I was a child, my family lived atop a mighty mountain. The nights were cold and bitter and snow often settled on the land even in the middle of summer. At the time, I didn't know anything else. It was just my parents and me, alone for years.

Every weekend, my father would walk down the mountain to a local village and buy anything we needed for the week before returning late it the evening. One winter day, he didn't return, leaving my mother and I to fend for ourselves in the middle of a harsh snowstorm.

My mother used our last resources to keep me alive.

I was trapped in the house for days without food or water, only subsisting on snow and ice. Suddenly a huge gust of wind shook the house, and when I opened the door, I found all the ice had melted, leaving beautifully green grass sprouting from the earth below. I was so hungry, I contemplating eating it!

As I looked up, I saw a man, clad entirely in a blue cloak with black accents. His hat had a wide brim and a pointy tip and a huge gray beard covered his chest. He was old and wizened and put his full weight on his walking staff with every step. This was the first human I had seen in years, and I didn't want him to leave like my parents just had.

He was walking away at the time, clearly unable to see me. I tried to call out, but my throat was too dry to make any noise. I did the only thing I could think of: I ran.

My legs were shaking under me with every step, and the world seemed to warp around me due to my hunger. I swear I could even hear my bones creak. The next thing I knew, I was tugging at the man's cloak, filled simultaneously with fear and hope.

He looked down to me, and then to the house with the door ajar. His glasses obscured his expression, but he then knelt down, caressed the back of my head, and said, "I am sorry I missed you, dear. Here. Come with me."

He held out his hand and we walked together, slowly making our way to his cottage, which was made of pure stone. At the time, I remember being fascinated with all the luminescent, boiling liquids and assortment of ridiculous items, but I was most interested in a loaf of bread just sitting on the table.

Without asking for permission, I dashed and began gobbling it up as fast as I could while the older man laughed, "Ho ho! I see you were hungry! Never fear! My house is always welcome to you!"

I didn't say anything and was choking slightly on the bread.

He continued, "I'm Samuel. What's your name, little girl?"

I swallowed and said, "Beth." Before immediately asking for water.

Sam and I lived together for years. I was taught to hunt and fish while he stayed inside, constantly reading and trying to make different concoctions. When I was about 10 or 12, he asked for my help in building a simple wooden shield. He insisted it be perfectly circular and comfortable to hold. He then had me collect various items for him: some gold and silver from a mountain mine, frog's urine, and bear's fur.

When I returned, he was stirring a pot of blue acid and asked me to put everything I had found inside. I did so, and the combination became black and viscous. He then looked at me and said, "The final ingredient is you," before pricking my finger and putting a single drop of blood inside. The moment it touched the mixture, everything glowed gold before turning into a brilliant blue.

We laid the shield on the table and completely covered it with the goo. Sam smiled a bit and said, "As long as you live, this will protect you. Nothing can break it once it dries." He then poured a small amount in a vial. "I will keep this for myself so I will always know if you are safe."

From that day forward, I was constantly training with the shield, learning how to defend myself against any creature or human. At some point in the middle of training, Sam said, "I think it's time for you to go into town and compete!"

"Compete?" I asked, wiping sweat from my brow.

"Yeah, there is a tournament going on every weekend. I believe your father won almost every round and used the money to buy food for you when you were younger." Sam pursed his lips a bit. "I suppose he was defeated by Lan, the boy with the perfect sword that could pierce through anything. He was given that sword by my sister. I just I cannot stand magic being used to harm others."

I didn't know what to say. Memories of my childhood flooded through me, and I could not handle the pain. I remember crying and hugging Sam for what seemed like hours, while he apologized and rubbed my back.

"You do not have to compete." Sam said, "I wasn't thinking when I said that. I thought it might be a good way to earn some money and start living your own life."

I didn't say anything, but wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Look, Beth. I don't care what you do, but I think living here, alone with me, is not good for a girl like you. You need to go out and see the world! It's time for adventure!" He then pulled me off of him and held my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes. "Use the shield to protect those you care about, but first, go find those people."

He sighed a bit before continuing. "If you find Lan... Well, I added something to the shield mixture I don't think my sister would have thought of."

The next thing I knew, I found myself in a large stadium, competing in a battle royal with hundreds of opponents. I didn't bring a weapon besides my shield. I didn't intend to kill anyone, just survive the longest. I found the years of hunting and trapping animals gave be an advantage. I was more nimble than anyone else on the field.

In the chaos, I saw a man whose sword was glowing red. It sliced through anything and everything it touched. His chest was bare and covered in scars from the many battles he fought. With every swing, the bloodthirsty crowd cheered, desperately wanting more. It was Lan. I kept protecting myself and waiting for the moment he would come after me.

Strangely enough, he didn't. He slaughtered every other person on the field, leaving the two of us alone with a pile of corpses around us.

"You. Girl." He shouted, pointing his sword directly at me, "You don't belong here."

"Why not?" I yelled back

"I will not strike an unarmed woman."

"You killed my father and left me to starve atop a mountain. Every time you strike down another man, you kill their families as well."

I could see anger in his eyes and his sword flared a bright red. "I take back what I said. You deserve to die!" He leapt, lifting his sword high into the air and swinging it down onto my shield.

At that moment, I could feel the sword pierce into me. It had broken the shield. No. That couldn't be. I was still alive, so the shield must be unbroken.

I looked up, only to see Lan's sword resting on the surface of the shield. Time, itself, had frozen. Two simultaneous paths opened up: one where he won, and another where I did.

In that moment, I knew it was a battle of wills. I could still feel immense pain in my side, but also saw the sword and shield glowing a bright red and blue. I could win this. As my confidence grew, so did the blue aura of the shield, eventually engulfing the sword and Lan completely. The light became blinding, but when it vanished, Lan was gone.

I knelt down, grabbing my side where the sword had hit before, only to feel the wound closing on its own. By the time I looked down, there was no blood at all.

There were no cheers for me. No booing either. The crowd was completely baffled, as was I. As I left, I collected my prize money before buying a loaf of bread and climbing back up the mountain to ask Sam what happened.

In that moment, I genuinely felt happy – as if I had redeemed my father from so many years ago. I also felt Sam was right. I was ripe for an adventure or two.

Prompt: You are the most skilled warrior in your kingdom & you are gifted by your impenetrable, magic shield that is given to you by a wizard. One day you are challenged to a duel by another warrior, who is known for his magic sword that is given to him by a witch, that can penetrate through anything

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/June/29/index.html b/content/2020/June/29/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/June/29/index.html rename to content/2020/June/29/index.html index 49b5845..e79c81c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/June/29/index.html +++ b/content/2020/June/29/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Becoming Anything · Scribbleios
GitHub

Becoming Anything

One morning, without warning, I awoke in an unfamiliar world.

All I could see was green. Huge blades of grass shot up from the earth below. I tried to move as I normally would, but stumbled onto the ground, falling onto a large, yet gray and furry foot. I tried to jump away, but realized the foot moved with me. It belonged to me.

Not only was my world different, I was different too. I had no idea what I was or where I was, but I new I had to survive. I looked around, trying to find my bearings, and slowly crawled through the grass. The ground beneath me became wet and muddy, eventually making way onto a clearing and a small pond.

Here, I could see dark clouds drifting towards the sun. A thunderstorm was coming. Across the pond was a dilapidated tree, where blue birds made their home, chirping away, maybe warning their kin of the oncoming storm.

I could feel my heart beating faster than I ever imagined it could. I suppose that is normal for a rabbit, but somehow the tempo seemed to be increasing. My gaze leapt around the pond, searching for something, but I didn’t know what. Anxiety flooded my body. I had to run, now.

But from what? Why?

Suddenly, behind me, I saw it. All of my subconscious fears materialized into a single entity. A beast, clearly much, much larger than I would ever be, stalking me quietly to my left. Its snout was low to the ground and shoulder hunched. Its red fur was sleek, and calm. Its tail had a white tuft at the end and was tucked beneath its belly. It was a fox.

For a split second, I froze.

A complicated blend of emotions ran through me. I knew this was close to the end. I had to move, but where? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just ran.

First, I started moving along the pond and towards the tree on the far side. Can foxes climb? I didn’t really think about it at the time. I was moving off of pure instinct. I knew I was faster, but only for a short run. I needed to get away and do so as quickly as possible.

After running for as long as I could, I was still far from the tree and dashed back into the grass, trying to recollect myself.

The fox followed and I could hear it breathing way too close for comfort. I could not survive much longer, and it knew where I was.

Its muddy paw landed next to me, shaking the earth, but I was paralyzed by both fear and exhaustion. I felt myself fading. All-too-quickly, my vision turned black.

Suddenly, I felt nothing. No fear. No exhaustion. Nothing at all.

Was this death? Did I die in that moment?

No. There was something else. Something more.

Before me, I saw a blue light. I didn’t know what it was, but I walked towards it and tried to grasp it with my hand… A human hand.

Suddenly, the world came back to me.

Green grass before a tumultuous sky and a dilapidated tree. Below me, I saw a rabbit. It was breathing heavily, but immobile. I was the fox.

I knew what the rabbit had just gone through, and I wanted to let it go. I was a human, after all, right? I had some level of decency. Also, the thought of eating a raw animal still disgusted me.

For the rest of the day, I stalked the pond as a fox. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, but I enjoyed being at the top of the food chain for a bit. As I felt my hunger grow, I eventually started to wonder if my animal instincts would kick in like they did when I was the rabbit.

Would I subconsciously become so hungry that I lose my humanity? Would I be forced to eat to survive? I knew the answer, but didn’t want to admit it. To live, I would need to become the fox.

I started wondering what happened to the rabbit I had left earlier and ambled my way towards where I had passed out before, only to find that the animal had not moved. It was breathing slower now, but seemed to be in a vegetative state.

I laid down and rested my snout next to its face. It was entirely gray. A normal hare.

Why had I woken up as a rabbit? As that being? Where was my actual body? I looked around a bit without any luck, and walked towards the tree for some shelter during the oncoming storm.

As the day ended, I found myself falling asleep in a deep hunger. Again, I saw a blue light. This time, instead of reaching out, I tried to inspect it.

It seemed to constantly move, evading my view. I knew I dreaming, and knew this light corresponded to some creature around me, but didn’t know what it was, exactly. I imagined it was a bird on the tree above me.

Throughout the night, I tried to imagine the physical world as it was when I went to sleep, and found myself controlling a humanoid apparition. I imagined the tree and grass. The rabbit and fox. Then the pond before me.

I began to wade into it and felt the waters move around me. As I went deeper and deeper, I began see a blue light within the water. By now, I was shoulder deep. The further I walked, the brighter the blue light from water became. I could feel every drop of rain as it pattered on the surface.

I could feel tadpoles and minnows swimming about. I could feel reeds growing in the shallow regions and lily pads growing on the surface.

I had become the water, itself.

As the sun rose in the morning, I began to warm, and so did all the animals inhabiting me. Throughout the day, I had no desire to move. I felt content. Not happy. Not sad. Just content. I served a purpose in a greater ecosystem, and that was OK with me.

I have no idea how long I was that pond. It might have been days. It might have been weeks. One night, as the moon rose, I began to feel stronger. I don’t know how or why, but I was no longer content being just a pond. I was a human!

I could do anything!

I found myself trying to wade out of the pond, but couldn’t. After all, the pond was now part of my identity as well.

Still, the moon called. Beckoning me closer and closer. I felt a strong connection that forced me to do something.

So I moved. I began by trying to reach a human hand out of the surface, but the surface tension wouldn’t allow it. If I were to leave, I would have to use more force.

I coalesced a large body water deep below and stared at the moon beneath the pond’s surface. I was more than just the pond. I was also human. I could do this.

I launched myself forward, with all the power I could, and quickly found myself floating in the air, somehow floating above myself. Well, at least the being I had come to recognize myself as. I could no longer feel the reeds swaying in the night’s breeze or fish swimming about.

I was alone for the first time in a long time and it felt exhilarating!

I kept moving closer and closer to the stars, flying into the heavens above, with the moonlight shimmering throughout my new body.

I found that I could become anything I imagined. I started out as a human with giant frozen wings of ice, but then realized I could be anything.

I was once a human, but now I am a werewolf, phoenix, demigod, dragon, alien, demon, merman, vampire, ghost, superhero.

I am anything I want to be. Anything I can imagine.

I have no idea where my original body went, but I’m happy enough with the result.

Prompt: You were once a normal human being. Now you are a werewolf, phoenix, demigod, dragon, alien, demon, merman, vampire, ghost, superhero. Tell the story of how you got there.

+Becoming Anything · Scribbleios
GitHub

Becoming Anything

One morning, without warning, I awoke in an unfamiliar world.

All I could see was green. Huge blades of grass shot up from the earth below. I tried to move as I normally would, but stumbled onto the ground, falling onto a large, yet gray and furry foot. I tried to jump away, but realized the foot moved with me. It belonged to me.

Not only was my world different, I was different too. I had no idea what I was or where I was, but I new I had to survive. I looked around, trying to find my bearings, and slowly crawled through the grass. The ground beneath me became wet and muddy, eventually making way onto a clearing and a small pond.

Here, I could see dark clouds drifting towards the sun. A thunderstorm was coming. Across the pond was a dilapidated tree, where blue birds made their home, chirping away, maybe warning their kin of the oncoming storm.

I could feel my heart beating faster than I ever imagined it could. I suppose that is normal for a rabbit, but somehow the tempo seemed to be increasing. My gaze leapt around the pond, searching for something, but I didn’t know what. Anxiety flooded my body. I had to run, now.

But from what? Why?

Suddenly, behind me, I saw it. All of my subconscious fears materialized into a single entity. A beast, clearly much, much larger than I would ever be, stalking me quietly to my left. Its snout was low to the ground and shoulder hunched. Its red fur was sleek, and calm. Its tail had a white tuft at the end and was tucked beneath its belly. It was a fox.

For a split second, I froze.

A complicated blend of emotions ran through me. I knew this was close to the end. I had to move, but where? I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just ran.

First, I started moving along the pond and towards the tree on the far side. Can foxes climb? I didn’t really think about it at the time. I was moving off of pure instinct. I knew I was faster, but only for a short run. I needed to get away and do so as quickly as possible.

After running for as long as I could, I was still far from the tree and dashed back into the grass, trying to recollect myself.

The fox followed and I could hear it breathing way too close for comfort. I could not survive much longer, and it knew where I was.

Its muddy paw landed next to me, shaking the earth, but I was paralyzed by both fear and exhaustion. I felt myself fading. All-too-quickly, my vision turned black.

Suddenly, I felt nothing. No fear. No exhaustion. Nothing at all.

Was this death? Did I die in that moment?

No. There was something else. Something more.

Before me, I saw a blue light. I didn’t know what it was, but I walked towards it and tried to grasp it with my hand… A human hand.

Suddenly, the world came back to me.

Green grass before a tumultuous sky and a dilapidated tree. Below me, I saw a rabbit. It was breathing heavily, but immobile. I was the fox.

I knew what the rabbit had just gone through, and I wanted to let it go. I was a human, after all, right? I had some level of decency. Also, the thought of eating a raw animal still disgusted me.

For the rest of the day, I stalked the pond as a fox. I didn’t know what to do or where to go, but I enjoyed being at the top of the food chain for a bit. As I felt my hunger grow, I eventually started to wonder if my animal instincts would kick in like they did when I was the rabbit.

Would I subconsciously become so hungry that I lose my humanity? Would I be forced to eat to survive? I knew the answer, but didn’t want to admit it. To live, I would need to become the fox.

I started wondering what happened to the rabbit I had left earlier and ambled my way towards where I had passed out before, only to find that the animal had not moved. It was breathing slower now, but seemed to be in a vegetative state.

I laid down and rested my snout next to its face. It was entirely gray. A normal hare.

Why had I woken up as a rabbit? As that being? Where was my actual body? I looked around a bit without any luck, and walked towards the tree for some shelter during the oncoming storm.

As the day ended, I found myself falling asleep in a deep hunger. Again, I saw a blue light. This time, instead of reaching out, I tried to inspect it.

It seemed to constantly move, evading my view. I knew I dreaming, and knew this light corresponded to some creature around me, but didn’t know what it was, exactly. I imagined it was a bird on the tree above me.

Throughout the night, I tried to imagine the physical world as it was when I went to sleep, and found myself controlling a humanoid apparition. I imagined the tree and grass. The rabbit and fox. Then the pond before me.

I began to wade into it and felt the waters move around me. As I went deeper and deeper, I began see a blue light within the water. By now, I was shoulder deep. The further I walked, the brighter the blue light from water became. I could feel every drop of rain as it pattered on the surface.

I could feel tadpoles and minnows swimming about. I could feel reeds growing in the shallow regions and lily pads growing on the surface.

I had become the water, itself.

As the sun rose in the morning, I began to warm, and so did all the animals inhabiting me. Throughout the day, I had no desire to move. I felt content. Not happy. Not sad. Just content. I served a purpose in a greater ecosystem, and that was OK with me.

I have no idea how long I was that pond. It might have been days. It might have been weeks. One night, as the moon rose, I began to feel stronger. I don’t know how or why, but I was no longer content being just a pond. I was a human!

I could do anything!

I found myself trying to wade out of the pond, but couldn’t. After all, the pond was now part of my identity as well.

Still, the moon called. Beckoning me closer and closer. I felt a strong connection that forced me to do something.

So I moved. I began by trying to reach a human hand out of the surface, but the surface tension wouldn’t allow it. If I were to leave, I would have to use more force.

I coalesced a large body water deep below and stared at the moon beneath the pond’s surface. I was more than just the pond. I was also human. I could do this.

I launched myself forward, with all the power I could, and quickly found myself floating in the air, somehow floating above myself. Well, at least the being I had come to recognize myself as. I could no longer feel the reeds swaying in the night’s breeze or fish swimming about.

I was alone for the first time in a long time and it felt exhilarating!

I kept moving closer and closer to the stars, flying into the heavens above, with the moonlight shimmering throughout my new body.

I found that I could become anything I imagined. I started out as a human with giant frozen wings of ice, but then realized I could be anything.

I was once a human, but now I am a werewolf, phoenix, demigod, dragon, alien, demon, merman, vampire, ghost, superhero.

I am anything I want to be. Anything I can imagine.

I have no idea where my original body went, but I’m happy enough with the result.

Prompt: You were once a normal human being. Now you are a werewolf, phoenix, demigod, dragon, alien, demon, merman, vampire, ghost, superhero. Tell the story of how you got there.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/June/30/index.html b/content/2020/June/30/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/June/30/index.html rename to content/2020/June/30/index.html index 8ba5a86..3d0b370 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/June/30/index.html +++ b/content/2020/June/30/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Luminescent Love Story · Scribbleios
GitHub

Luminescent Love Story

Until today, one of the most beautiful nights I could remember was on my honeymoon with my husband. I rested in his arms with my back to his chest as we watched the sun set, admiring the pastel horizon slowly fade to blue. I don't remember what we talked about, exactly, but I remember the stars and moon rising and still remaining glued to him.

I never realized how much I could see after my eyes adjusted the dark. The moon seemed as bright as the sun, and the stars suddenly became so interesting. We laid down in the sand and examined the heavens, pointing to whatever constellations we would name and giggling with each other about the beliefs of ancient societies.

At some point, he tapped my shoulder and said, "Hey. Want to go in?" He then gestured to the ocean and sat up.

"Sure." I said.

He stood and grabbed my hand, lifting me up and escorting me to the sea. As we walked closer, he stopped suddenly and stared at the sand.

"What'sup, babe?"

"Nothing, just..." He kneeled down to the wet sand and dug his hand in. "Watch this." He then cupped his hand and pulled the sand from the earth, leaving a small, blue, glowing hole.

"Wait, what?" I kneeled down to look at the hole he had dug. It was as.if the sand was reflecting the stars above, shimmering in the night. "What's going on?"

"These are Dinoflagellata. Micro-organisms that bioluminesce. They are some of my favorite creatures. They are all over the ocean, but sometimes they wash onto shore." He then threw the sand in his hand away and rubbed the remnants on his swimming trunks. "Come on. This should be fun!"

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the sea, and with every step I took, I could see my legs glow with a faint blue light. Eventually, we were waist-deep, and glowing completely in blue, shimmering light.

It was nothing short of magical.

"I wanted to come to this beach in-particular because of these little guys. I didn't know if they would be around or not, but I'm happy they are here tonight, with us."

He then pulled me closer and kissed me passionately.

That was exactly 10 years ago. We are still married, but decided against having kids. We were both busy people. He had his research, and I had my writing.

Throughout the past year, he had become more and more absent. Some nights, he wouldn't even come to bed until well after midnight. He had become tired, grumpy, and unresponsive.

I kept telling myself that this is what happens after 10 years of marriage. There's no way for passion to stay for so long. He is busy with his work.

Somewhere, deep inside, I began to fear that I was no longer adequate for him. Was he tired of us? Was he grumpy because of me? Did I do something I shouldn't have?

Today was our anniversary. I didn't want to bring it up, but I knew I needed to say something. This man could not have been the same person I married so long ago! He had changed. We have changed.

Maybe its time to...

I was completely lost in thought and shaken by a text notification.

"Meet me in the living room at 5. I have a surprise." It was from my husband.

"Ok." I sent back. Then immediately, "Is everything alright?"

He responded quickly with, "Yeah. Just come at 5. Love you!"

I didn't respond. Usually, I would say, "I love you too." But I just couldn't. Not now.

At 5, I went to the living room, and found him rummaging around the carpet, before pulling it up and revealing a trap door that he quickly opened.

"Wait. We have a basement?" I asked.

"It's more of a bomb-shelter than anything else." He then grabbed my hand again, like he had so many years ago. "Come on!"

The wooded stairs creaked with our weight and after he turned on a light, I could see cobwebs and dust all around, except for on one, distinct path. I guessed he was down here a lot. There was not much else to see. The walls were wooden and musty, and there was a metallic button with a single red light at the far side of the room. He quickly jogged to the wall and pressed the button, causing the wall to slowly drop with a whirring noise, opening into a small, lit room.

"Wait, what is that?" I asked as he pulled me along. "Where are you taking me? Is this an elevator?"

"Yeah, it's an elevator. Trust me, you will love this."

He pressed a button on the inside and the wooden wall rose back up while the elevator sunk into the earth. I don't know how far down we went or how fast the elevator was going, but the trip was long enough for him to comment about how he contemplated putting in elevator music, but didn't have the time.

The doors opened to a pitch-black abyss. "Do you have a flashlight?" I asked.

"No. Just wait. Let your eyes adjust." He pulled me forward and forced me down slightly onto a chair he had prepared.

Memories began flooding into my head from our honeymoon and the romantic night we spent wading into the ocean.

"Can you see it yet?" He asked.

"What?"

"You will. Just wait."

Suddenly, a white light appeared above me. It was far away, as if a star in the sky. Then there was another, and another. "This is really cool." I said, "It's like we are outside."

"Wait. It gets better."

My eyes began to adjust more, and I began to see blue mixed with the white. Then green and purple. Red and orange. The world became illuminated by faint light all over.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Ah." I could now see him beside me scratching the back of his head. "10 years ago, I changed my research direction. I am now studying bioluminescence in micro-organisms." He paused for a second. "Do you see the red? That was the hardest color to get. I had to bio-engineer that color, developing the first man-made animal in existence!"

"This is cool, but..." I trailed off.

"I did this after I saw the light in your eyes that night 10 years ago. I knew there was one thing I wanted to do, but had no idea how to do it until a few months ago, so I was working tirelessly to finish it by our anniversary." He then grabbed my hand again, "Come on."

He pulled me further, pointing out all the nooks and crannies within the cave I could get caught on. I soon realized I was walking on a wooden platform, and began to wonder if he had always worked from home. Certainly he had put enough time into this place to make it a perfect research destination.

"Look over there." He said, I could see his arm point towards a small, luminescing cluster.

"What am I supposed to see, exactly?"

"You are looking at that red glob over there, right?"

"Yes."

"Watch this!" He then clapped his hands and the entire cave glowed brighter than it ever had before. I could see pillars of wet rock reaching from the ceiling above and connecting onto the floor, along with dark crevasses stretching much farther than I could ever hope to see. It looked as bright as day, except instead of the sun, there was a plethora of colorful dust illuminating the walls.

He grabbed my head and directed my eyes toward the wall we were looking at before. "Do you see it?" He asked.

"Yes."

There, where the congregation to red light was before was a heart, with the phrase "I love you" scrawled inside of it.

I hugged him, feeling ashamed for what I was thinking just earlier today.

"I love you too."

Prompt: Finding out you’ve had a basement the whole time you lived here is one thing. Finding out the basement has an elevator straight down into a hidden bio-luminescent world is entirely another.

+Luminescent Love Story · Scribbleios
GitHub

Luminescent Love Story

Until today, one of the most beautiful nights I could remember was on my honeymoon with my husband. I rested in his arms with my back to his chest as we watched the sun set, admiring the pastel horizon slowly fade to blue. I don't remember what we talked about, exactly, but I remember the stars and moon rising and still remaining glued to him.

I never realized how much I could see after my eyes adjusted the dark. The moon seemed as bright as the sun, and the stars suddenly became so interesting. We laid down in the sand and examined the heavens, pointing to whatever constellations we would name and giggling with each other about the beliefs of ancient societies.

At some point, he tapped my shoulder and said, "Hey. Want to go in?" He then gestured to the ocean and sat up.

"Sure." I said.

He stood and grabbed my hand, lifting me up and escorting me to the sea. As we walked closer, he stopped suddenly and stared at the sand.

"What'sup, babe?"

"Nothing, just..." He kneeled down to the wet sand and dug his hand in. "Watch this." He then cupped his hand and pulled the sand from the earth, leaving a small, blue, glowing hole.

"Wait, what?" I kneeled down to look at the hole he had dug. It was as.if the sand was reflecting the stars above, shimmering in the night. "What's going on?"

"These are Dinoflagellata. Micro-organisms that bioluminesce. They are some of my favorite creatures. They are all over the ocean, but sometimes they wash onto shore." He then threw the sand in his hand away and rubbed the remnants on his swimming trunks. "Come on. This should be fun!"

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the sea, and with every step I took, I could see my legs glow with a faint blue light. Eventually, we were waist-deep, and glowing completely in blue, shimmering light.

It was nothing short of magical.

"I wanted to come to this beach in-particular because of these little guys. I didn't know if they would be around or not, but I'm happy they are here tonight, with us."

He then pulled me closer and kissed me passionately.

That was exactly 10 years ago. We are still married, but decided against having kids. We were both busy people. He had his research, and I had my writing.

Throughout the past year, he had become more and more absent. Some nights, he wouldn't even come to bed until well after midnight. He had become tired, grumpy, and unresponsive.

I kept telling myself that this is what happens after 10 years of marriage. There's no way for passion to stay for so long. He is busy with his work.

Somewhere, deep inside, I began to fear that I was no longer adequate for him. Was he tired of us? Was he grumpy because of me? Did I do something I shouldn't have?

Today was our anniversary. I didn't want to bring it up, but I knew I needed to say something. This man could not have been the same person I married so long ago! He had changed. We have changed.

Maybe its time to...

I was completely lost in thought and shaken by a text notification.

"Meet me in the living room at 5. I have a surprise." It was from my husband.

"Ok." I sent back. Then immediately, "Is everything alright?"

He responded quickly with, "Yeah. Just come at 5. Love you!"

I didn't respond. Usually, I would say, "I love you too." But I just couldn't. Not now.

At 5, I went to the living room, and found him rummaging around the carpet, before pulling it up and revealing a trap door that he quickly opened.

"Wait. We have a basement?" I asked.

"It's more of a bomb-shelter than anything else." He then grabbed my hand again, like he had so many years ago. "Come on!"

The wooded stairs creaked with our weight and after he turned on a light, I could see cobwebs and dust all around, except for on one, distinct path. I guessed he was down here a lot. There was not much else to see. The walls were wooden and musty, and there was a metallic button with a single red light at the far side of the room. He quickly jogged to the wall and pressed the button, causing the wall to slowly drop with a whirring noise, opening into a small, lit room.

"Wait, what is that?" I asked as he pulled me along. "Where are you taking me? Is this an elevator?"

"Yeah, it's an elevator. Trust me, you will love this."

He pressed a button on the inside and the wooden wall rose back up while the elevator sunk into the earth. I don't know how far down we went or how fast the elevator was going, but the trip was long enough for him to comment about how he contemplated putting in elevator music, but didn't have the time.

The doors opened to a pitch-black abyss. "Do you have a flashlight?" I asked.

"No. Just wait. Let your eyes adjust." He pulled me forward and forced me down slightly onto a chair he had prepared.

Memories began flooding into my head from our honeymoon and the romantic night we spent wading into the ocean.

"Can you see it yet?" He asked.

"What?"

"You will. Just wait."

Suddenly, a white light appeared above me. It was far away, as if a star in the sky. Then there was another, and another. "This is really cool." I said, "It's like we are outside."

"Wait. It gets better."

My eyes began to adjust more, and I began to see blue mixed with the white. Then green and purple. Red and orange. The world became illuminated by faint light all over.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Ah." I could now see him beside me scratching the back of his head. "10 years ago, I changed my research direction. I am now studying bioluminescence in micro-organisms." He paused for a second. "Do you see the red? That was the hardest color to get. I had to bio-engineer that color, developing the first man-made animal in existence!"

"This is cool, but..." I trailed off.

"I did this after I saw the light in your eyes that night 10 years ago. I knew there was one thing I wanted to do, but had no idea how to do it until a few months ago, so I was working tirelessly to finish it by our anniversary." He then grabbed my hand again, "Come on."

He pulled me further, pointing out all the nooks and crannies within the cave I could get caught on. I soon realized I was walking on a wooden platform, and began to wonder if he had always worked from home. Certainly he had put enough time into this place to make it a perfect research destination.

"Look over there." He said, I could see his arm point towards a small, luminescing cluster.

"What am I supposed to see, exactly?"

"You are looking at that red glob over there, right?"

"Yes."

"Watch this!" He then clapped his hands and the entire cave glowed brighter than it ever had before. I could see pillars of wet rock reaching from the ceiling above and connecting onto the floor, along with dark crevasses stretching much farther than I could ever hope to see. It looked as bright as day, except instead of the sun, there was a plethora of colorful dust illuminating the walls.

He grabbed my head and directed my eyes toward the wall we were looking at before. "Do you see it?" He asked.

"Yes."

There, where the congregation to red light was before was a heart, with the phrase "I love you" scrawled inside of it.

I hugged him, feeling ashamed for what I was thinking just earlier today.

"I love you too."

Prompt: Finding out you’ve had a basement the whole time you lived here is one thing. Finding out the basement has an elevator straight down into a hidden bio-luminescent world is entirely another.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/November/29/index.html b/content/2020/November/29/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/November/29/index.html rename to content/2020/November/29/index.html index 67c67a9..eb8110b 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/November/29/index.html +++ b/content/2020/November/29/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Raindrops on the Window · Scribbleios
GitHub

Raindrops on the Window

I looked past my own reflection from within a moving train and watched the evening landscape fly by. My mind was endlessly focused on nothing important, hopping from topic to topic without any direction, but my eyes began to fixate on drops of rain slowly creeping along the window. I had always felt the droplets were playing a game with one another, trying to race to the other end of the window first.

One drop, in particular, had not moved for a long time, and I found myself cheering for it to move faster. I watched as it struggled to inch closer and closer to the edge of the window to no avail, while another droplet quickly approached it from behind. Eventually, the two of them combined and began moving faster than anything else on the window, racing to their goal together, as one.

I took a deep breath before moving my eyes to the front of the cabin, where a small board of LEDs scrolled, identifying the next stop which was still an hour from when I would have to get off. There was hardly anyone else there at this hour of the night, and the only noise I could hear was the automotive hum of the train, itself. I found myself suddenly exhausted from a long day of travel and took off my glasses, folding them and hanging them off of the neck of my shirt before resting my head and closing my eyes.

As I began to lose consciousness, I felt a slight pressure on my shoulder as my partner rested his head against me. It was fine, we had plenty of time before our final destination, so we could take a 30 minute nap. It had been so long since we could take the time to be alone together, and I found myself helplessly smiling and whispering, "Good night." I reached my hand to his seat, trying to grab his hand and intertwine our fingers like we always did, but I struggled to find it.

Suddenly, my hair stood on end and I felt my heart stop.

I opened my eyes and looked to the seat next to me. There was no one there. Slightly delirious from my nap, I hastily put on my glasses and took a deep breath.

He was gone.

I again rested my head on the chair and stared at the LEDs at the front of the cabin as two separate streams of tears fall down my cheeks.

He was gone and never coming back.

I could only hope that somewhere – wherever his soul had gone to rest – he was thinking about me too.

Prompt: If your heart squeezes a longing for a moment on the absence of someone, then you can be sure that he shares the longing for you in the same moment.

+Raindrops on the Window · Scribbleios
GitHub

Raindrops on the Window

I looked past my own reflection from within a moving train and watched the evening landscape fly by. My mind was endlessly focused on nothing important, hopping from topic to topic without any direction, but my eyes began to fixate on drops of rain slowly creeping along the window. I had always felt the droplets were playing a game with one another, trying to race to the other end of the window first.

One drop, in particular, had not moved for a long time, and I found myself cheering for it to move faster. I watched as it struggled to inch closer and closer to the edge of the window to no avail, while another droplet quickly approached it from behind. Eventually, the two of them combined and began moving faster than anything else on the window, racing to their goal together, as one.

I took a deep breath before moving my eyes to the front of the cabin, where a small board of LEDs scrolled, identifying the next stop which was still an hour from when I would have to get off. There was hardly anyone else there at this hour of the night, and the only noise I could hear was the automotive hum of the train, itself. I found myself suddenly exhausted from a long day of travel and took off my glasses, folding them and hanging them off of the neck of my shirt before resting my head and closing my eyes.

As I began to lose consciousness, I felt a slight pressure on my shoulder as my partner rested his head against me. It was fine, we had plenty of time before our final destination, so we could take a 30 minute nap. It had been so long since we could take the time to be alone together, and I found myself helplessly smiling and whispering, "Good night." I reached my hand to his seat, trying to grab his hand and intertwine our fingers like we always did, but I struggled to find it.

Suddenly, my hair stood on end and I felt my heart stop.

I opened my eyes and looked to the seat next to me. There was no one there. Slightly delirious from my nap, I hastily put on my glasses and took a deep breath.

He was gone.

I again rested my head on the chair and stared at the LEDs at the front of the cabin as two separate streams of tears fall down my cheeks.

He was gone and never coming back.

I could only hope that somewhere – wherever his soul had gone to rest – he was thinking about me too.

Prompt: If your heart squeezes a longing for a moment on the absence of someone, then you can be sure that he shares the longing for you in the same moment.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/November/30/index.html b/content/2020/November/30/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/November/30/index.html rename to content/2020/November/30/index.html index b8d2fcc..1e5590e 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/November/30/index.html +++ b/content/2020/November/30/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Bargaining Protagonist · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Bargaining Protagonist

I sat alone, bathed by the amber light of sunset, scribbling away in my studio apartment as my eyes drooped from sleep deprivation and my stomach growled from hunger. Every corner of the room was covered in loose documents of forgotten plot lines and concepts that I would never fully complete. I honestly didn't know if my bed had proper sheets anymore or if I slept under a pile of half-written manuscripts.

To-date, I had published 10 novels over 10 years and sold 100,000 copies. Unfortunately, 99,980 sales came from a single novel: A Tale of War and Famine, a heart-wrenching story of a world stricken by war and disease such that all of humanity had been pushed into a single city, no larger than modern-day Boston. In the novel, the water in the city also became contaminated with yet another plague, this time with the potential to kill off 50% of the remaining population.

The main character, Dr. Jerry Curie, a descendant of Marie Curie, had found the contaminated water early when his daughter became infected. He spent weeks trying desperately to find a cure as his family died off one-by-one, and in in the last chapter of the book, he had finally done it. Unfortunately, at that time, he was only able to synthesize enough for one person, the disease was quickly spreading to the remaining human population, and his wife – his only remaining family member – was at her deathbed with only hours to live.

Worse, he had found himself coming down with symptoms and knew that he would not be able to generate another dose if he was sick as well. With this, he was left with an impossible choice: to save his wife or himself.

In the last few paragraphs of the book, Jerry is in the hospital and holding his wife's hand, both of them silent and trying to make sense of everything. As his wife slipped out of consciousness for the last time, Jerry gave her a hug and pulled the vial from his coat pocket, staring at it through tear-stricken eyes.

"I'm sorry Carole," He said, "But this is for the greater good."

He then drinks the cure to save himself, and the book ends.

If I'm honest, it wasn't my best novel, but it was the one that sold the most. I had to turn it into a series to pay the bills.

The only problem was that this novel was never meant to have a sequel. All the plot lines had wrapped up, except one: how would Jerry synthesize enough of the cure for the rest of humanity? I knew the audience would want another miserable tale where Jerry desperately tries to save everyone and fails, but was this enough for a full book?

It had to be.

As I tapped my pen on the page, trying to figure out the best plot, I heard thumping and yelling from my upstairs neighbors. If this novel did not sell, I would quit my dream of being an author and move back in with my parents. I was already at my wit's end and could not take another year living as I had been.

Even with the noise, I found my eyes were too heavy to keep open and before I knew it I had fallen asleep. I opened my eyes to a hospital bed with an older man grasping the hand of his dying wife.

It was Jerry.

I saw him drink the vial with tears in his eyes and then drop it on the hospital floor, shattering to pieces. He then continued to tend to his wife for hours, even as nurses advised him to leave. He would look up, still crying, and slowly shake his head, mouthing the words he could not say, "No. I will stay no matter what."

After some time, Jerry's wife faded away, leaving Jerry alone in the hospital room with his hands running through his hair. I didn't know what to do or say, so I stood up, put my hand on his shoulder, and said, "I am sorry for your loss."

Jerry looked to me and spoke for the first time since his wife passed away, "It's my fault, I could have..." he trailed off and buried his head again in his hands.

"It's not your fault, Jerry." I sighed, "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

Jerry sat in silence for a few seconds before asking, "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Ah. I'm your author. I made you and this world."

"You made me?" Jerry asked, still not looking up.

"Yeah. You are a character in my book."

"So that means... How much of my life did you write?"

"All of it, I guess?" I drew a deep breath, "In my world, there was no plague."

Again Jerry sat in silence. Without looking up, he began to speak slowly, "Then you can fix this."

"Well, I could..."

"Just write a new book! A book where my cure saves everyone, including..." He paused again and I saw a tear roll down his cheek. "Did my wife pass away in the book yet?"

"No, not technically."

"Then save her. I'll do anything if you just save her." He grabbed my forearm looked me in the eye, but his gaze quickly dropped again and he let go.

"I can't." I found a seat on the other side of the hospital room and sat down, analyzing him from a safe distance. "The people have spoken. I have bills to pay."

"So you are not writing a sequel because the book didn't make enough money?" Jerry sat in shock, but eventually nodded to himself. "That's ok. At least I will live in a world frozen in time to before Carole dies."

"Well... Not exactly. Your book was actually really profitable, so I wanted to continue the story."

He looked up. I had never felt such a piercing gaze. "So what does that mean?"

"It means your life is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better, I'm afraid."

Without saying a word, Jerry dropped his head into his hands and began sobbing once again.

I didn't know what to say or how to console him, so we sat in silence until I found myself awake again in my apartment. I lifted my head and along with it came scraps of drool-stained paper. As I peeled them off my face, I looked down where I read a single line that I did not remember ever writing:

"Help me."

-Jerry.

Prompt: You, a struggling writer, are currently negotiating with the Main Protagonist. You need this next book to sell for rent and food. They need this next book to be popular while minimizing casualties/deaths so their World will survive. Unfortunately, your readers are already expecting something...

+The Bargaining Protagonist · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Bargaining Protagonist

I sat alone, bathed by the amber light of sunset, scribbling away in my studio apartment as my eyes drooped from sleep deprivation and my stomach growled from hunger. Every corner of the room was covered in loose documents of forgotten plot lines and concepts that I would never fully complete. I honestly didn't know if my bed had proper sheets anymore or if I slept under a pile of half-written manuscripts.

To-date, I had published 10 novels over 10 years and sold 100,000 copies. Unfortunately, 99,980 sales came from a single novel: A Tale of War and Famine, a heart-wrenching story of a world stricken by war and disease such that all of humanity had been pushed into a single city, no larger than modern-day Boston. In the novel, the water in the city also became contaminated with yet another plague, this time with the potential to kill off 50% of the remaining population.

The main character, Dr. Jerry Curie, a descendant of Marie Curie, had found the contaminated water early when his daughter became infected. He spent weeks trying desperately to find a cure as his family died off one-by-one, and in in the last chapter of the book, he had finally done it. Unfortunately, at that time, he was only able to synthesize enough for one person, the disease was quickly spreading to the remaining human population, and his wife – his only remaining family member – was at her deathbed with only hours to live.

Worse, he had found himself coming down with symptoms and knew that he would not be able to generate another dose if he was sick as well. With this, he was left with an impossible choice: to save his wife or himself.

In the last few paragraphs of the book, Jerry is in the hospital and holding his wife's hand, both of them silent and trying to make sense of everything. As his wife slipped out of consciousness for the last time, Jerry gave her a hug and pulled the vial from his coat pocket, staring at it through tear-stricken eyes.

"I'm sorry Carole," He said, "But this is for the greater good."

He then drinks the cure to save himself, and the book ends.

If I'm honest, it wasn't my best novel, but it was the one that sold the most. I had to turn it into a series to pay the bills.

The only problem was that this novel was never meant to have a sequel. All the plot lines had wrapped up, except one: how would Jerry synthesize enough of the cure for the rest of humanity? I knew the audience would want another miserable tale where Jerry desperately tries to save everyone and fails, but was this enough for a full book?

It had to be.

As I tapped my pen on the page, trying to figure out the best plot, I heard thumping and yelling from my upstairs neighbors. If this novel did not sell, I would quit my dream of being an author and move back in with my parents. I was already at my wit's end and could not take another year living as I had been.

Even with the noise, I found my eyes were too heavy to keep open and before I knew it I had fallen asleep. I opened my eyes to a hospital bed with an older man grasping the hand of his dying wife.

It was Jerry.

I saw him drink the vial with tears in his eyes and then drop it on the hospital floor, shattering to pieces. He then continued to tend to his wife for hours, even as nurses advised him to leave. He would look up, still crying, and slowly shake his head, mouthing the words he could not say, "No. I will stay no matter what."

After some time, Jerry's wife faded away, leaving Jerry alone in the hospital room with his hands running through his hair. I didn't know what to do or say, so I stood up, put my hand on his shoulder, and said, "I am sorry for your loss."

Jerry looked to me and spoke for the first time since his wife passed away, "It's my fault, I could have..." he trailed off and buried his head again in his hands.

"It's not your fault, Jerry." I sighed, "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

Jerry sat in silence for a few seconds before asking, "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Ah. I'm your author. I made you and this world."

"You made me?" Jerry asked, still not looking up.

"Yeah. You are a character in my book."

"So that means... How much of my life did you write?"

"All of it, I guess?" I drew a deep breath, "In my world, there was no plague."

Again Jerry sat in silence. Without looking up, he began to speak slowly, "Then you can fix this."

"Well, I could..."

"Just write a new book! A book where my cure saves everyone, including..." He paused again and I saw a tear roll down his cheek. "Did my wife pass away in the book yet?"

"No, not technically."

"Then save her. I'll do anything if you just save her." He grabbed my forearm looked me in the eye, but his gaze quickly dropped again and he let go.

"I can't." I found a seat on the other side of the hospital room and sat down, analyzing him from a safe distance. "The people have spoken. I have bills to pay."

"So you are not writing a sequel because the book didn't make enough money?" Jerry sat in shock, but eventually nodded to himself. "That's ok. At least I will live in a world frozen in time to before Carole dies."

"Well... Not exactly. Your book was actually really profitable, so I wanted to continue the story."

He looked up. I had never felt such a piercing gaze. "So what does that mean?"

"It means your life is going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better, I'm afraid."

Without saying a word, Jerry dropped his head into his hands and began sobbing once again.

I didn't know what to say or how to console him, so we sat in silence until I found myself awake again in my apartment. I lifted my head and along with it came scraps of drool-stained paper. As I peeled them off my face, I looked down where I read a single line that I did not remember ever writing:

"Help me."

-Jerry.

Prompt: You, a struggling writer, are currently negotiating with the Main Protagonist. You need this next book to sell for rent and food. They need this next book to be popular while minimizing casualties/deaths so their World will survive. Unfortunately, your readers are already expecting something...

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/01/index.html b/content/2020/October/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/01/index.html rename to content/2020/October/01/index.html index 8f7a05b..02862bb 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/01/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Prince of Time · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Prince of Time

Small crystals of sand slowly sifted through a conical glass in the center of the room, each grain dropping every second, day, or week. They represented any and all spans of time ranging from a yoctosecond to half a year. The hourglass rested atop a plane of glass that seemed to float in mid-air. There were no shadows, no light or darkness. The only other visible objects were an ornate wooden door, clad with gold accents and a chair with plush red cushions, golden legs, and a golden arch. On the chair sat a timeless creature with smooth skin and long, dark hair, kept back with a crystal band. Their eyes glowed blue as they sat, cross-legged with their arm connecting their inner thigh and head.

This being was none other than the Prince of Time. In another chamber rested another hourglass, representing all time spans beyond half a year. There sat the king, though he is much less relevant to this story.

Lately, humanity has begun tampering with time. By manipulating reality at the atomic scale, they found it was possible to capture the world in slow-motion, down to the femtosecond regime. The only problem is that at that scale, light can no longer keep up. In fact, the only thing scientists can see is the subtle movement of electrons as they shift across a metal plate [1].

Humanity is curious. They will keep learning. At some point soon, they will begin to see time as something they can manipulate. Something they can control. When that happens, the prince and king will both be dethroned and replaced by a new democratic regime with much, much less experience dealing with the intricacies of time.

More than that, humans had unwittingly stumbled across the key to the castle: light, itself. See, light moves at the same speed irrespective of its reference frame. No matter how fast you are moving, light (in a vacuum) will always move the same. Humans also knew that light is the only reason their cameras do not work at certain temporal resolutions and that photons are manipulatable objects.

When they control light, they control time, because light was not just the key to the castle, it was the castle, itself.

Projected into every single photon was a separate set of chambers holding the king and prince. To the humans, the prince controlled electric and magnetic fields, while the king controlled the space-time continuum. Over the past few decades, humanity has found nearly perfect control of the prince's chambers, and have thus continually stolen the prince's throne.

The prince, unable to see more than half a year ahead could only sit and watch, hoping for the king to step in while their kingdom was stolen from them, but the king cannot see how the humans are attacking because he can only see scales beyond half a year.

Between the two of them, the only being that could see the whole picture was light, but light had already allied itself with the humans.

There was no hope. The kingdom would be lost eventually.

The only thing the prince and king could do was wait and hope that the new rulers became much more conscious about how delicate the fabric of time truly was before they took power.

[1] Example: https://arxiv.org/abs/2005.00241

Prompt: The Prince of Time is frequently kidnapped in attempts to reach unlimited power. The only person capable of saving him is: Daylight.

+The Prince of Time · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Prince of Time

Small crystals of sand slowly sifted through a conical glass in the center of the room, each grain dropping every second, day, or week. They represented any and all spans of time ranging from a yoctosecond to half a year. The hourglass rested atop a plane of glass that seemed to float in mid-air. There were no shadows, no light or darkness. The only other visible objects were an ornate wooden door, clad with gold accents and a chair with plush red cushions, golden legs, and a golden arch. On the chair sat a timeless creature with smooth skin and long, dark hair, kept back with a crystal band. Their eyes glowed blue as they sat, cross-legged with their arm connecting their inner thigh and head.

This being was none other than the Prince of Time. In another chamber rested another hourglass, representing all time spans beyond half a year. There sat the king, though he is much less relevant to this story.

Lately, humanity has begun tampering with time. By manipulating reality at the atomic scale, they found it was possible to capture the world in slow-motion, down to the femtosecond regime. The only problem is that at that scale, light can no longer keep up. In fact, the only thing scientists can see is the subtle movement of electrons as they shift across a metal plate [1].

Humanity is curious. They will keep learning. At some point soon, they will begin to see time as something they can manipulate. Something they can control. When that happens, the prince and king will both be dethroned and replaced by a new democratic regime with much, much less experience dealing with the intricacies of time.

More than that, humans had unwittingly stumbled across the key to the castle: light, itself. See, light moves at the same speed irrespective of its reference frame. No matter how fast you are moving, light (in a vacuum) will always move the same. Humans also knew that light is the only reason their cameras do not work at certain temporal resolutions and that photons are manipulatable objects.

When they control light, they control time, because light was not just the key to the castle, it was the castle, itself.

Projected into every single photon was a separate set of chambers holding the king and prince. To the humans, the prince controlled electric and magnetic fields, while the king controlled the space-time continuum. Over the past few decades, humanity has found nearly perfect control of the prince's chambers, and have thus continually stolen the prince's throne.

The prince, unable to see more than half a year ahead could only sit and watch, hoping for the king to step in while their kingdom was stolen from them, but the king cannot see how the humans are attacking because he can only see scales beyond half a year.

Between the two of them, the only being that could see the whole picture was light, but light had already allied itself with the humans.

There was no hope. The kingdom would be lost eventually.

The only thing the prince and king could do was wait and hope that the new rulers became much more conscious about how delicate the fabric of time truly was before they took power.

[1] Example: https://arxiv.org/abs/2005.00241

Prompt: The Prince of Time is frequently kidnapped in attempts to reach unlimited power. The only person capable of saving him is: Daylight.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/02/index.html b/content/2020/October/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/02/index.html rename to content/2020/October/02/index.html index fe052c2..95c67e6 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/02/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Forest Guardian · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Forest Guardian

3:00 AM – Wake up, work out

4:00 AM – Shower & breakfast

5:00 AM – Work

4:00 PM – Eat

4:15 PM – Continue working

8:00 PM – Sleep

This has been my schedule for decades, providing roughly 15 working hours every day or 105 working hours every week with 7 hours of sleep per night. I used to be able to live off of 5 hours of sleep, but those days were long gone. I found that remote programming work would allow me to juggle 2 jobs and maintain a prestigious open-source side-project.

I was living the life!

To be honest, the only reason I had to work 2 jobs was because I used to receive pesky e-mails from corporate about maintaining appropriate work-life balance. I found if I clocked out on time and started working on my next project, I could keep working without anyone batting an eye. Life is what you make of it, and I was making great progress on all fronts!

One day, I received a peculiar e-mail... not too unlike the ones I would receive before I worked the 2 positions.

Title: Maintaining appropriate work-life balance while juggling 2 positions

Hello Qedem,

This is XXX and YYY. We have recently found that you are a lead developer for both of our companies and have come to the conclusion that you are violating both companies work-life balance policy by clocking in 100 hours of work per week.

Though we understand that what you do in your free time is none of our concern, it is concerning that you have chosen to spend your time working a completely separate position without disclosing that information with us.

We will not ask for you to choose between our companies, but we will ask you take time to reflect on what is important to you and refrain from working long hours.

Thanks, XXX and YYY

They found out. I replied quickly and in a panic:

Hello XXX and YYY,

It was my understanding that I was not required to disclose activities outside of working hours with my employer and apologize for any inconvenience.

I feel I am maintaining appropriate work-life balance. In fact, I was planning on taking a vacation this weekend by camping in a local park!

No need to worry! I can look after myself.

Thanks, Qedem

I figured that would get them off my back. I didn't actually need to go camping, they just needed to think I was taking a break. In a few hours, I received a reply:

Hello Qedem,

That's great to hear! Be sure to send us pictures!

Thanks, XXX and YYY

Pictures? They wanted pictures?

I sighed to myself. I sucked at photoshop. I started thinking of ways I could still weasel my way out of it, but ultimately decided that a weekend working off of a mobile hotspot on my laptop wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Besides, I was training for a swimming competition and there was a good open water location to in the park.

So I packed my bags, including my goggles and cap and quickly found myself in a tent nestled between two trees, gazing onto a huge lake. Autumn leaves fell to the forest floor, and I could hear woodland creatures scurrying about. My car was only a few feet away and I had a cord connected to my laptop for charging. I spent all night coding away. Honestly, I found the juxtaposition between technology and nature to be somewhat pleasing.

At roughly 6:00 AM, I donned a cap and goggles and went out for a swim. When I returned, I found my car would no longer start. Somehow, it was completely out of battery. To make matters worse, my phone was also almost dead!

Rather than worry about the situation, I decided to go for a longer swim. After all, there were only so many hours in the day. No need to waste time worrying!

This time, I decided to swim to the other side of the lake, and as I waded out of the water, I found a rustic concrete bench stationed between a few trees, covered in moss and foliage. It was completely square, with a square lip in the middle for sitting. I decided to incorporate the structure into my workout and brushed off some leaves before placing my feet on the seat and doing a few push-ups.

1,2,3,4....15,16,17,...

I felt my muscles begin to twitch a bit. It honestly felt like the earth was shaking from under me. I managed a few more push-ups before stopping and sitting cross-legged on the concrete. For some reason, the rumbling continued. In my mind, I began wondering if I had over-exerted myself.

Suddenly, the concrete seat split, creating 4 quarter squares and emitting steam into the air. At the same time, red light began to glow beneath. The shaking became even more intense, and I found myself leaping from the bench and running straight into the water to watch whatever was happening from a safe distance. As I turned around, I saw a giant stone structure lift itself from the earth, causing nearby trees to sway and birds to flock away.

The creature was roughly twice my height and had a square top with 4 red lines reaching below onto a spherical base. The lines each connected a smooth, oblong stone that acted as legs. The creature also seemed to emit a constant electrical hum. Though it had no defined face, it began moving slowly towards me and soon began wading in the lake.

At this point, I was properly freaking out and decided to swim back to my campsite and begin packing up. I threw everything I could in the back of my car and tried to turn it on, but after turning the key, I remembered the battery was still dead.

As I was failing to turn the engine, I saw steam rupturing the water's surface, followed by the creature's red glow and electrical hum. Somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew I was doomed. I ran my hands through my hair and sat in my car, awaiting my demise.

I had worked so hard for so long. I had built so many things. Yet here I was, about to be squashed by some sci-fi forest guardian...

Wait.

How was this thing moving? Probably via some form of electricity, right? Also, it was pretty slow. As long as I kept moving, it had no way of actually hurting me.

I quickly popped the hood of my car and grabbed some cables from the backseat, connecting them to my battery. As the creature drew nearer, I attached the positive cable to one of it's red lines and tried to turn the key. This time, the engine revved up, and I quickly put the car in reverse and sped away as quickly as I could, just before one of the guardians legs stomped on top of me.

I still don't know what happened to the creature. For all I know, it could be following me to this day. Maybe it walked back to its meadow for more rest. To be honest, I do not really care.

All I know is that I am never taking a vacation again!

Prompt: You're an workaholic. Your friends & family plead with you to rest, and even your own boss wants you to take a break. The solution: a camping trip. Unfortunately for you, you decided to set up camp in the middle of a Forest Guardian's territory, and humans are not welcome.

+The Forest Guardian · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Forest Guardian

3:00 AM – Wake up, work out

4:00 AM – Shower & breakfast

5:00 AM – Work

4:00 PM – Eat

4:15 PM – Continue working

8:00 PM – Sleep

This has been my schedule for decades, providing roughly 15 working hours every day or 105 working hours every week with 7 hours of sleep per night. I used to be able to live off of 5 hours of sleep, but those days were long gone. I found that remote programming work would allow me to juggle 2 jobs and maintain a prestigious open-source side-project.

I was living the life!

To be honest, the only reason I had to work 2 jobs was because I used to receive pesky e-mails from corporate about maintaining appropriate work-life balance. I found if I clocked out on time and started working on my next project, I could keep working without anyone batting an eye. Life is what you make of it, and I was making great progress on all fronts!

One day, I received a peculiar e-mail... not too unlike the ones I would receive before I worked the 2 positions.

Title: Maintaining appropriate work-life balance while juggling 2 positions

Hello Qedem,

This is XXX and YYY. We have recently found that you are a lead developer for both of our companies and have come to the conclusion that you are violating both companies work-life balance policy by clocking in 100 hours of work per week.

Though we understand that what you do in your free time is none of our concern, it is concerning that you have chosen to spend your time working a completely separate position without disclosing that information with us.

We will not ask for you to choose between our companies, but we will ask you take time to reflect on what is important to you and refrain from working long hours.

Thanks, XXX and YYY

They found out. I replied quickly and in a panic:

Hello XXX and YYY,

It was my understanding that I was not required to disclose activities outside of working hours with my employer and apologize for any inconvenience.

I feel I am maintaining appropriate work-life balance. In fact, I was planning on taking a vacation this weekend by camping in a local park!

No need to worry! I can look after myself.

Thanks, Qedem

I figured that would get them off my back. I didn't actually need to go camping, they just needed to think I was taking a break. In a few hours, I received a reply:

Hello Qedem,

That's great to hear! Be sure to send us pictures!

Thanks, XXX and YYY

Pictures? They wanted pictures?

I sighed to myself. I sucked at photoshop. I started thinking of ways I could still weasel my way out of it, but ultimately decided that a weekend working off of a mobile hotspot on my laptop wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Besides, I was training for a swimming competition and there was a good open water location to in the park.

So I packed my bags, including my goggles and cap and quickly found myself in a tent nestled between two trees, gazing onto a huge lake. Autumn leaves fell to the forest floor, and I could hear woodland creatures scurrying about. My car was only a few feet away and I had a cord connected to my laptop for charging. I spent all night coding away. Honestly, I found the juxtaposition between technology and nature to be somewhat pleasing.

At roughly 6:00 AM, I donned a cap and goggles and went out for a swim. When I returned, I found my car would no longer start. Somehow, it was completely out of battery. To make matters worse, my phone was also almost dead!

Rather than worry about the situation, I decided to go for a longer swim. After all, there were only so many hours in the day. No need to waste time worrying!

This time, I decided to swim to the other side of the lake, and as I waded out of the water, I found a rustic concrete bench stationed between a few trees, covered in moss and foliage. It was completely square, with a square lip in the middle for sitting. I decided to incorporate the structure into my workout and brushed off some leaves before placing my feet on the seat and doing a few push-ups.

1,2,3,4....15,16,17,...

I felt my muscles begin to twitch a bit. It honestly felt like the earth was shaking from under me. I managed a few more push-ups before stopping and sitting cross-legged on the concrete. For some reason, the rumbling continued. In my mind, I began wondering if I had over-exerted myself.

Suddenly, the concrete seat split, creating 4 quarter squares and emitting steam into the air. At the same time, red light began to glow beneath. The shaking became even more intense, and I found myself leaping from the bench and running straight into the water to watch whatever was happening from a safe distance. As I turned around, I saw a giant stone structure lift itself from the earth, causing nearby trees to sway and birds to flock away.

The creature was roughly twice my height and had a square top with 4 red lines reaching below onto a spherical base. The lines each connected a smooth, oblong stone that acted as legs. The creature also seemed to emit a constant electrical hum. Though it had no defined face, it began moving slowly towards me and soon began wading in the lake.

At this point, I was properly freaking out and decided to swim back to my campsite and begin packing up. I threw everything I could in the back of my car and tried to turn it on, but after turning the key, I remembered the battery was still dead.

As I was failing to turn the engine, I saw steam rupturing the water's surface, followed by the creature's red glow and electrical hum. Somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew I was doomed. I ran my hands through my hair and sat in my car, awaiting my demise.

I had worked so hard for so long. I had built so many things. Yet here I was, about to be squashed by some sci-fi forest guardian...

Wait.

How was this thing moving? Probably via some form of electricity, right? Also, it was pretty slow. As long as I kept moving, it had no way of actually hurting me.

I quickly popped the hood of my car and grabbed some cables from the backseat, connecting them to my battery. As the creature drew nearer, I attached the positive cable to one of it's red lines and tried to turn the key. This time, the engine revved up, and I quickly put the car in reverse and sped away as quickly as I could, just before one of the guardians legs stomped on top of me.

I still don't know what happened to the creature. For all I know, it could be following me to this day. Maybe it walked back to its meadow for more rest. To be honest, I do not really care.

All I know is that I am never taking a vacation again!

Prompt: You're an workaholic. Your friends & family plead with you to rest, and even your own boss wants you to take a break. The solution: a camping trip. Unfortunately for you, you decided to set up camp in the middle of a Forest Guardian's territory, and humans are not welcome.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/03/index.html b/content/2020/October/03/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/03/index.html rename to content/2020/October/03/index.html index 49c4a59..f488da6 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/03/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/03/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Mirrors on the Wall · Scribbleios
GitHub

Mirrors on the Wall

When I was younger, I would have dreams almost every night. Some nights, I was an adventurer, gallantly riding off to slay a dragon. Other nights, I was a little girl cast away on the street side and begging for food. In every one of my dreams, I found myself living another life – imagining myself as someone else entirely.

At least, I thought it was all in my imagination.

One night, I found myself in the body of my neighbor. A girl, roughly 16 years old. My room was an exact replica of hers, with pastel-colored posters and a light-pink vanity, littered with cheap jewelry, resting on the far wall. I was on her bed, scrolling through a random social media website, but something felt off. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't ignore. Throughout the next few hours, I would take a deep breath and put the phone down before quickly picking it back up and mindlessly scrolling yet again.

I knew I was waiting for something, but I didn't know what. Suddenly, there was a message from "Ken," reading, "Hey Rika, can we talk?"

"Sure!" I quickly responded, "About what?"

"About us." Immediately after he sent the text, he called, saying all the normal stuff, "Look. I don't know how to say this, but this isn't working out..."

To be honest, I didn't know what to say. My eyes welled with tears, and most of the conversation was a blur. I ended up crying the entire night, without even a wink of sleep.

As we waited at the bus stop the next morning, I looked towards Rika and noticed her eyes were still puffy and dark. When we walked onto the bus, I thoughtlessly said, "You can do better than him anyway. Don't worry about it."

She then tugged my sleeve a bit and followed me to my seat. We sat there in silence for a few more stops before she whispered to me, "How did you know?"

At that moment, I realized I could not tell her the truth: that I watched her boyfriend break up with her in a dream the night before. Instead I said, "It was just a hunch. Let me know if you ever need to talk."

Throughout the next few weeks, Rika and I began speaking more frequently, eventually becoming lifelong friends, and I continued dreaming every night.

At that stage, I knew there was more to them than I had thought before. Each dream was a window into another world where other, living people lived their lives. Because of this, I found myself excited to sleep every night, hoping that I would live another interesting life.

As more and more evenings passed, I became more conscious of myself in the dreaming world and eventually found myself able to shadow the people I possessed. I don't know how to explain it, exactly. I was still following the main character, but I was also able to walk around freely and touch the world around me... so long as I didn't physically move anything.

One day, I found myself shadowing a CEO in a board meeting with several unimpressed members. He was anxiously explaining why his company had such a poor quarter and trying to lift the mood with equally unimpressive jokes, followed by his own nervous laughter. I found myself apathetic toward presentation and began meandering around the room, stopping at a mirror on the wall.

As I looked through it, I was not particularly surprised to see everyone in the room reflected but myself. In my mind, this made sense. I was essentially a ghost, after all. Somehow, though, the mirror still seemed a little off... Like there was a half-second delay between what was happening in the dream and what the mirror reflected. When I moved my hand closer to feel its surface, I found it had a rather unexpected texture. Instead of cool glass, it felt more like the surface of water.

I tapped it a few more times, feeling it ripple at my touch, and even though the image did not change, I knew something strange was going on. Without much thought, I reached my hand through the surface of the mirror, feeling nothing on the other side. When I pulled my hand back out, everything seemed fine, so I cautiously fed more of my arm into it, followed by my head.

Immediately, the world became dark, and I saw a long, hallway with the floors illuminated by dim lights. As I looked left and right, I saw a series of monitors, each separated by roughly a body-length, all playing a different show.

I returned to the business meeting and saw a bunch of relatively boring numbers flashing on a slideshow. After listening for a few more minutes, I figured it was about time I did something interesting and ran back to the mirror, carefully moving through it and entering the hallway I had seen moments before.

As I began to walk around, I noticed that each monitor reflected another dream... Another universe I had lived in before. I found myself checking in on all of the people I had shadowed, smiling while reminiscing on past adventures. When I stopped by Rika's room, I found I was looking through her vanity towards her bed. More importantly, there was no one in the room.

It was late in the evening, so I could not imagine where she could be... But as I looked closer, I saw a faint amber glow out of her window. I didn't want to pry, but I also found myself drawn back into my own world, so I reached out my hand and jumped through the portal into Rika's old room.

I jogged a bit to the window to see what was going on and saw a house a few doors down engulfed in flame. It was my house. My hair stood on end and my stomach churned as I turned around and rested my back against the wall next to the window.

There was no way I survived.

At the time, I cannot remember a single emotion flowing through me. I simply sat there until the sun rose and Rika entered her room, her face stained with tears. She did not say anything, but laid in her bed and immediately fell asleep.

Not knowing what to do, I stood and walked to her, patting her head slightly. "Thanks for caring." I said, "I'll return every now and again to check on you."

I then moved towards the vanity and plunged myself into it.

I remember laying on the floor next to her room for several long hours. I truly was a ghost. As I haunted the halls of realities I once lived, I found a few worlds scattered about that I had never seen before. Some fantastical, others not.

I knew that each of these mirrors was a camera into another life, and from then on, the only way I could truly live was vicariously though others.

Prompt: All mirrors are cameras.

+Mirrors on the Wall · Scribbleios
GitHub

Mirrors on the Wall

When I was younger, I would have dreams almost every night. Some nights, I was an adventurer, gallantly riding off to slay a dragon. Other nights, I was a little girl cast away on the street side and begging for food. In every one of my dreams, I found myself living another life – imagining myself as someone else entirely.

At least, I thought it was all in my imagination.

One night, I found myself in the body of my neighbor. A girl, roughly 16 years old. My room was an exact replica of hers, with pastel-colored posters and a light-pink vanity, littered with cheap jewelry, resting on the far wall. I was on her bed, scrolling through a random social media website, but something felt off. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach that I couldn't ignore. Throughout the next few hours, I would take a deep breath and put the phone down before quickly picking it back up and mindlessly scrolling yet again.

I knew I was waiting for something, but I didn't know what. Suddenly, there was a message from "Ken," reading, "Hey Rika, can we talk?"

"Sure!" I quickly responded, "About what?"

"About us." Immediately after he sent the text, he called, saying all the normal stuff, "Look. I don't know how to say this, but this isn't working out..."

To be honest, I didn't know what to say. My eyes welled with tears, and most of the conversation was a blur. I ended up crying the entire night, without even a wink of sleep.

As we waited at the bus stop the next morning, I looked towards Rika and noticed her eyes were still puffy and dark. When we walked onto the bus, I thoughtlessly said, "You can do better than him anyway. Don't worry about it."

She then tugged my sleeve a bit and followed me to my seat. We sat there in silence for a few more stops before she whispered to me, "How did you know?"

At that moment, I realized I could not tell her the truth: that I watched her boyfriend break up with her in a dream the night before. Instead I said, "It was just a hunch. Let me know if you ever need to talk."

Throughout the next few weeks, Rika and I began speaking more frequently, eventually becoming lifelong friends, and I continued dreaming every night.

At that stage, I knew there was more to them than I had thought before. Each dream was a window into another world where other, living people lived their lives. Because of this, I found myself excited to sleep every night, hoping that I would live another interesting life.

As more and more evenings passed, I became more conscious of myself in the dreaming world and eventually found myself able to shadow the people I possessed. I don't know how to explain it, exactly. I was still following the main character, but I was also able to walk around freely and touch the world around me... so long as I didn't physically move anything.

One day, I found myself shadowing a CEO in a board meeting with several unimpressed members. He was anxiously explaining why his company had such a poor quarter and trying to lift the mood with equally unimpressive jokes, followed by his own nervous laughter. I found myself apathetic toward presentation and began meandering around the room, stopping at a mirror on the wall.

As I looked through it, I was not particularly surprised to see everyone in the room reflected but myself. In my mind, this made sense. I was essentially a ghost, after all. Somehow, though, the mirror still seemed a little off... Like there was a half-second delay between what was happening in the dream and what the mirror reflected. When I moved my hand closer to feel its surface, I found it had a rather unexpected texture. Instead of cool glass, it felt more like the surface of water.

I tapped it a few more times, feeling it ripple at my touch, and even though the image did not change, I knew something strange was going on. Without much thought, I reached my hand through the surface of the mirror, feeling nothing on the other side. When I pulled my hand back out, everything seemed fine, so I cautiously fed more of my arm into it, followed by my head.

Immediately, the world became dark, and I saw a long, hallway with the floors illuminated by dim lights. As I looked left and right, I saw a series of monitors, each separated by roughly a body-length, all playing a different show.

I returned to the business meeting and saw a bunch of relatively boring numbers flashing on a slideshow. After listening for a few more minutes, I figured it was about time I did something interesting and ran back to the mirror, carefully moving through it and entering the hallway I had seen moments before.

As I began to walk around, I noticed that each monitor reflected another dream... Another universe I had lived in before. I found myself checking in on all of the people I had shadowed, smiling while reminiscing on past adventures. When I stopped by Rika's room, I found I was looking through her vanity towards her bed. More importantly, there was no one in the room.

It was late in the evening, so I could not imagine where she could be... But as I looked closer, I saw a faint amber glow out of her window. I didn't want to pry, but I also found myself drawn back into my own world, so I reached out my hand and jumped through the portal into Rika's old room.

I jogged a bit to the window to see what was going on and saw a house a few doors down engulfed in flame. It was my house. My hair stood on end and my stomach churned as I turned around and rested my back against the wall next to the window.

There was no way I survived.

At the time, I cannot remember a single emotion flowing through me. I simply sat there until the sun rose and Rika entered her room, her face stained with tears. She did not say anything, but laid in her bed and immediately fell asleep.

Not knowing what to do, I stood and walked to her, patting her head slightly. "Thanks for caring." I said, "I'll return every now and again to check on you."

I then moved towards the vanity and plunged myself into it.

I remember laying on the floor next to her room for several long hours. I truly was a ghost. As I haunted the halls of realities I once lived, I found a few worlds scattered about that I had never seen before. Some fantastical, others not.

I knew that each of these mirrors was a camera into another life, and from then on, the only way I could truly live was vicariously though others.

Prompt: All mirrors are cameras.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/04/index.html b/content/2020/October/04/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/04/index.html rename to content/2020/October/04/index.html index 72eae77..d77dae8 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/04/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/04/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Glitching · Scribbleios
GitHub

Glitching

It has been roughly 10 years since Albrecht Abernathy managed to verify the simulation hypothesis, and since then the world has changed drastically. In his seminal paper on Reality Theory, he investigated the crossover from the quantum to classical regime and showed the only possible way to transition between the two was with an additional metric of information to describe the scale at which computation must take place.

By manipulating this scale object, it became possible to access quantum information in the classical world and classical information in the quantum world. Almost immediately, researchers began implementing various known quantum schemes in a macroscopic environment, starting with entanglement and then quantum teleportation.

Because teleportation allowed for individuals to transmit information, but not physical objects, it was first used to rapidly encode data from large distances. The internet was completely displaced and internet service providers all quickly became bankrupt. More importantly, people realized that any form of information could be sent, including electromagnetic stimulation within the brain. This lead to the first realization of telepathy, and soon thereafter complete body swapping. In 2025, no one knew who anyone was. It was a mess.

The next year, schools became antiquated as teachers learned how to spread an entire year's worth of information to their class in minutes. By 2027, all governments instituted an entanglement verification metric that held all elements of an individual's quantum state. This was necessary to ensure no person was cheating the system by using quantum shenanigans, and if anyone was found in violation, their thoughts and ideas would be closely monitored and likely stolen from them in jail.

At the start of this year, the world changed again. Though it was always obvious how to apply quantum techniques at the classical scale, it was less obvious how to apply classical techniques at the quantum scale without uprooting the core logic of reality. Even so, researchers couldn't help themselves from trying, which lead to a phenomenon known as glitching.

Glitching is weird. Sometimes, when people blink, the world can change completely. Gravity could fail, light could suddenly exert pressure, or fridges could become ovens. When they blink again, everything would be back to normal. Most the time, glitching was based off of an observational event. The moment someone ceases observing the glitch, it ceases to exist for that person.

Like the Amish when the world began embracing electricity, there was a segment of the population that refused to accept their new reality. Somehow or another, these people became known as NPCs. In fact, these people seemed to be so swept up in their old lives that they completely ignored glitching, altogether. Because NPCs never observed glitches, they always remembered what the world was supposed to be like.

This meant that NPCs were vital for keeping the world order the same as it once was. Sometimes glitches were so inconsequential in nature that only NPCs could recognize the truth, so glitched people often resorted to asking NPCs about simple things like if grass was always a certain shade of green, or if the president was always orange.

I was fortunate enough to have an NPC neighbor, Bob, who I became close friends with over the course of the last few months, and there wasn't a single glitch he didn't help me catch.

One day, I came home and noticed my house was a subtle green. I was sure it was a glitch, so I asked Bob. He confirmed my house was always green. I thought it was odd, but Bob had never lead me astray before.

The next day, my house was blue again. Bob confirmed that my house had always been blue.

At that point, I remember feeling cold sweat accumulate on my neck. If NPCs could no longer catch the glitches, there was nothing preventing an inconsequential glitch from becoming the new norm, and several inconsequential glitches could add up to a huge problem.

As this was the first glitch Bob didn't catch, I assumed I was ultimately worrying about nothing. After all, how many glitches could we possibly missed?

I thanked Bob for his time and promised to make him a pie that afternoon before bouncing across my lawn and back into my house. As I slid my tentacle into my pocket for my key, I remember looking off into the green sky, where a pink moon was just beginning to rise for the evening. There couldn't be that much changed, right?

Prompt: That's weird. I could swear my house was blue yesterday.

+Glitching · Scribbleios
GitHub

Glitching

It has been roughly 10 years since Albrecht Abernathy managed to verify the simulation hypothesis, and since then the world has changed drastically. In his seminal paper on Reality Theory, he investigated the crossover from the quantum to classical regime and showed the only possible way to transition between the two was with an additional metric of information to describe the scale at which computation must take place.

By manipulating this scale object, it became possible to access quantum information in the classical world and classical information in the quantum world. Almost immediately, researchers began implementing various known quantum schemes in a macroscopic environment, starting with entanglement and then quantum teleportation.

Because teleportation allowed for individuals to transmit information, but not physical objects, it was first used to rapidly encode data from large distances. The internet was completely displaced and internet service providers all quickly became bankrupt. More importantly, people realized that any form of information could be sent, including electromagnetic stimulation within the brain. This lead to the first realization of telepathy, and soon thereafter complete body swapping. In 2025, no one knew who anyone was. It was a mess.

The next year, schools became antiquated as teachers learned how to spread an entire year's worth of information to their class in minutes. By 2027, all governments instituted an entanglement verification metric that held all elements of an individual's quantum state. This was necessary to ensure no person was cheating the system by using quantum shenanigans, and if anyone was found in violation, their thoughts and ideas would be closely monitored and likely stolen from them in jail.

At the start of this year, the world changed again. Though it was always obvious how to apply quantum techniques at the classical scale, it was less obvious how to apply classical techniques at the quantum scale without uprooting the core logic of reality. Even so, researchers couldn't help themselves from trying, which lead to a phenomenon known as glitching.

Glitching is weird. Sometimes, when people blink, the world can change completely. Gravity could fail, light could suddenly exert pressure, or fridges could become ovens. When they blink again, everything would be back to normal. Most the time, glitching was based off of an observational event. The moment someone ceases observing the glitch, it ceases to exist for that person.

Like the Amish when the world began embracing electricity, there was a segment of the population that refused to accept their new reality. Somehow or another, these people became known as NPCs. In fact, these people seemed to be so swept up in their old lives that they completely ignored glitching, altogether. Because NPCs never observed glitches, they always remembered what the world was supposed to be like.

This meant that NPCs were vital for keeping the world order the same as it once was. Sometimes glitches were so inconsequential in nature that only NPCs could recognize the truth, so glitched people often resorted to asking NPCs about simple things like if grass was always a certain shade of green, or if the president was always orange.

I was fortunate enough to have an NPC neighbor, Bob, who I became close friends with over the course of the last few months, and there wasn't a single glitch he didn't help me catch.

One day, I came home and noticed my house was a subtle green. I was sure it was a glitch, so I asked Bob. He confirmed my house was always green. I thought it was odd, but Bob had never lead me astray before.

The next day, my house was blue again. Bob confirmed that my house had always been blue.

At that point, I remember feeling cold sweat accumulate on my neck. If NPCs could no longer catch the glitches, there was nothing preventing an inconsequential glitch from becoming the new norm, and several inconsequential glitches could add up to a huge problem.

As this was the first glitch Bob didn't catch, I assumed I was ultimately worrying about nothing. After all, how many glitches could we possibly missed?

I thanked Bob for his time and promised to make him a pie that afternoon before bouncing across my lawn and back into my house. As I slid my tentacle into my pocket for my key, I remember looking off into the green sky, where a pink moon was just beginning to rise for the evening. There couldn't be that much changed, right?

Prompt: That's weird. I could swear my house was blue yesterday.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/05/index.html b/content/2020/October/05/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/05/index.html rename to content/2020/October/05/index.html index 10b2004..891d36c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/05/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/05/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Another Castle · Scribbleios
GitHub

Princess is in Another Castle

They say that dreams are doorways into the soul, which might be true for most people, but for me they seem to be doorways into different universes entirely. Every night, I leave the comfort of my room and enter a world of adventure and mystery, returning with an object in hand.

A literal object.

I never remember what I did or why the object is important, but every night I wake up with something new.

When I was younger, it was simple things: A toy train, a flower, maybe a dagger at worst. Now, things have become quite different. Everything seems to have a distinct theme, as if I return to the same universe again and again with every dream.

Last month, it was Harry Potter. I have 2 wands, an invisibility cloak, a bunch of weird chocolates, and what I believe to be a polyjuice potion that I didn't dare drink.

This time, the theme took a bit longer to figure out. At first, I found bricks, then coins. Then I found a weird egg the size of my torso and some green and red mushrooms I saved in the fridge. When I brought back a red turtle shell, it hit me. I was entering the super Mario universe!

When I woke up this morning, I had stolen something I never thought was possible: A living, breathing human. She was slightly shorter than I was with golden hair and blue eyes. She stared at me with a blank expression before softly asking, "Mario?"

There was no doubt, this was none other than Princess Peach.

I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment before saying, "No. I'm not Mario. I don't know how you got here, but maybe I'll cook you some mushrooms for breakfast?"

As I left the bed and walked to the kitchen, I began wondering so many things all at once: Can she work? How will I get her valid identification? Will she have to live with me or can I send her off to my friends?

Am I the reason the princess is always in another castle?

Prompt: You involuntarily bring back souvenirs from your dreams, simple things like a flower or some dirt, an article of clothing, a paintbrush. This morning, you awake next to another person.

+Another Castle · Scribbleios
GitHub

Princess is in Another Castle

They say that dreams are doorways into the soul, which might be true for most people, but for me they seem to be doorways into different universes entirely. Every night, I leave the comfort of my room and enter a world of adventure and mystery, returning with an object in hand.

A literal object.

I never remember what I did or why the object is important, but every night I wake up with something new.

When I was younger, it was simple things: A toy train, a flower, maybe a dagger at worst. Now, things have become quite different. Everything seems to have a distinct theme, as if I return to the same universe again and again with every dream.

Last month, it was Harry Potter. I have 2 wands, an invisibility cloak, a bunch of weird chocolates, and what I believe to be a polyjuice potion that I didn't dare drink.

This time, the theme took a bit longer to figure out. At first, I found bricks, then coins. Then I found a weird egg the size of my torso and some green and red mushrooms I saved in the fridge. When I brought back a red turtle shell, it hit me. I was entering the super Mario universe!

When I woke up this morning, I had stolen something I never thought was possible: A living, breathing human. She was slightly shorter than I was with golden hair and blue eyes. She stared at me with a blank expression before softly asking, "Mario?"

There was no doubt, this was none other than Princess Peach.

I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment before saying, "No. I'm not Mario. I don't know how you got here, but maybe I'll cook you some mushrooms for breakfast?"

As I left the bed and walked to the kitchen, I began wondering so many things all at once: Can she work? How will I get her valid identification? Will she have to live with me or can I send her off to my friends?

Am I the reason the princess is always in another castle?

Prompt: You involuntarily bring back souvenirs from your dreams, simple things like a flower or some dirt, an article of clothing, a paintbrush. This morning, you awake next to another person.

diff --git a/dev/content/2020/October/06/index.html b/content/2020/October/06/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2020/October/06/index.html rename to content/2020/October/06/index.html index 53f4663..3b5e296 100644 --- a/dev/content/2020/October/06/index.html +++ b/content/2020/October/06/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Happy Habitat · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Happy Habitat

Every person has their own definition of paradise. For some, paradise is a utopian society where all people are fed and cared for. For others, it's a relaxing evening with a partner who truly loves them.

Ultimately, every person is different, and that's part of the beauty of of humanity!

No matter what you want, we've got you covered here at Happy Habitat! Your dreams, realized!

The attractive announcer with a well-fitting suit and toothy grin disappeared from behind a flickering monitor as the commercial ended. Ordinarily, the station would then transition into a feature presentation, but instead, the channel cut out into static. In fact, this commercial was the only televised content since the start of this year. It played behind glass windows of storefronts that had yet to fully power down.

I watched it periodically throughout the past few months while driving from city to city, each one identical to the last: an archaic relic of simpler times. Sprouts of grass peeked through pavement, asphalt had crumbled into gravel, and dilapidated houses were slowly reclaimed by nature. Animals of all different kinds began cautiously wandering empty streets, wondering where their predators had gone.

In fact, the world was better than it had ever been before! The sky was a deep blue without smog, forests were thriving metropolises of wildlife, and rivers were so clean that babbling brooks sounded like song!

As I closed the door to my truck, I watched a raven fly past me to a tree a few bodylengths behind where I parked. The foliage was just starting to yellow for the autumnal season and I found myself wondering if I could dismantle a nearby house for firewood.

I grimaced slightly as my eyes drifted to a seemingly harmless cloud in the direction I had come from. It was the capital. The Happy Habitat, where all people went to live in their own virtual heavens. It was an efficient complex, considering it housed over a billion residents. Several other capitals existed throughout the world, one for each continent.

They were tall, foreboding structures. Testaments to human greed. In an endless struggle to satisfy their own desires, nearly every human chose to trade their own lives for a glimpse into paradise, and Happy Habitat was more than willing to facilitate that trade... For a small catch. In order to interface with the Happy Habitat network, a surgery would need to be performed, essentially leaving the customer in a vegetative state for as long as they lived in Paradise.

So long as I have lived, I have never seen a single person leave.

I didn't mind too much, though. Happy Habitat claimed to provide paradise for all, and it did live up to it's promise. For someone like me, a world without anyone else truly was paradise.

Prompt: Everyone always suspected the end of the world would come in a rage of nuclear fire. But when the totally submersible Virtual Reality, “Happy Habitat” gave it’s users ultimate perfection around the clock, people stopped returning to Earth. The world grew silent. Everyone was hooked in.

+Happy Habitat · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Happy Habitat

Every person has their own definition of paradise. For some, paradise is a utopian society where all people are fed and cared for. For others, it's a relaxing evening with a partner who truly loves them.

Ultimately, every person is different, and that's part of the beauty of of humanity!

No matter what you want, we've got you covered here at Happy Habitat! Your dreams, realized!

The attractive announcer with a well-fitting suit and toothy grin disappeared from behind a flickering monitor as the commercial ended. Ordinarily, the station would then transition into a feature presentation, but instead, the channel cut out into static. In fact, this commercial was the only televised content since the start of this year. It played behind glass windows of storefronts that had yet to fully power down.

I watched it periodically throughout the past few months while driving from city to city, each one identical to the last: an archaic relic of simpler times. Sprouts of grass peeked through pavement, asphalt had crumbled into gravel, and dilapidated houses were slowly reclaimed by nature. Animals of all different kinds began cautiously wandering empty streets, wondering where their predators had gone.

In fact, the world was better than it had ever been before! The sky was a deep blue without smog, forests were thriving metropolises of wildlife, and rivers were so clean that babbling brooks sounded like song!

As I closed the door to my truck, I watched a raven fly past me to a tree a few bodylengths behind where I parked. The foliage was just starting to yellow for the autumnal season and I found myself wondering if I could dismantle a nearby house for firewood.

I grimaced slightly as my eyes drifted to a seemingly harmless cloud in the direction I had come from. It was the capital. The Happy Habitat, where all people went to live in their own virtual heavens. It was an efficient complex, considering it housed over a billion residents. Several other capitals existed throughout the world, one for each continent.

They were tall, foreboding structures. Testaments to human greed. In an endless struggle to satisfy their own desires, nearly every human chose to trade their own lives for a glimpse into paradise, and Happy Habitat was more than willing to facilitate that trade... For a small catch. In order to interface with the Happy Habitat network, a surgery would need to be performed, essentially leaving the customer in a vegetative state for as long as they lived in Paradise.

So long as I have lived, I have never seen a single person leave.

I didn't mind too much, though. Happy Habitat claimed to provide paradise for all, and it did live up to it's promise. For someone like me, a world without anyone else truly was paradise.

Prompt: Everyone always suspected the end of the world would come in a rage of nuclear fire. But when the totally submersible Virtual Reality, “Happy Habitat” gave it’s users ultimate perfection around the clock, people stopped returning to Earth. The world grew silent. Everyone was hooked in.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/December/12/index.html b/content/2021/December/12/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/December/12/index.html rename to content/2021/December/12/index.html index 9498a51..7a990da 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/December/12/index.html +++ b/content/2021/December/12/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The NPC · Scribbleios
GitHub

The NPC

My grandfather often talks about the world before the Divide – a cataclysmic event where half the population on the planet were cast into another dimension. Apparently, before then, mages did not exist. Everyone communicated through strange devices they called "facebooks," which I can only imagine was some sort of contact list where each page was mirror that would reflect another person's face. He would often mumble about how he was happy that at least "Suckerberg" wasn't pushing "the meta" anymore, but honestly... I have no idea what any of that means.

Somehow, after the Divide, ancient technology burst into flames. The scientists of the time thought that our universe might have been the one that split off into an "anti-matter dimension" where electrons were now positrons with fundamentally different properties. They say that electrons could be conducted across wires and channeled without human interference, but positrons were different. They could not be contained and instead burst out into all directions.

The factories from the ancient world, now imbued with new, positronic energy, spontaneously exploded, wiping out nearby cities. Humans naturally fled to places where ancient technology was not as prevalent: rain forests, deserts, tundras, even the ocean depths – anywhere they thought they would be safe.

There was, however, a single advantage that we had over the ancients: magic. No one fully understood how or why, but over the next decade, humans became able to conjure fire and water at will. Then came flight, light manipulation, and several other disciplines of study.

The scientists of old quickly went to work and began recreating ancient technology with our new magic systems. Soon, magic circles became prevalent and were used to automate basic tasks. Over the next generation, we grew accustomed to our new lives and began to live as a single, united community known as the Federation.

About 20 years after the Divide came the infamous Great Proclamation, where the president of the Federation said:

These past 20 years have been tumultuous at best. We have lost all of our ancient technology. We have lost family and friends But we never lost hope. Now, with our new magic, we can cast away the old world entirely and start fresh. Today marks the first day in the New Era of humanity. From now on, we will no longer be focused on mere survival, but growth! We will rebuild. We will prosper! Long live the Federation!

For the first time since the Divide, humans felt hope, but the very next year, things changed.

Though we had thought the population of larger cities had been wiped out, that was not precisely true. A handful of people had survived and, fixated on the lives of their lost loved ones, had begun practicing forbidden magic: necromancy. Once a single human had been revived, it was found that necrotic tissue would spread, re-animating everyone who had been destroyed by ancient technology. Worse, the undead were also pumped full of positronic energy and could explode at any moment. They were indestructible and incredibly powerful. Frankly, humanity did not stand a chance.

We slowly began learning new binding magic to contain the undead and the Federation began enlisting soldiers to fight to protect those that could not protect themselves. For years, the Federal army fought every single day, constantly developing new techniques while involved in an all-out war.

Even with this turmoil, my generation was born. It was found that we had orders of magnitude more magical aptitude than previous generations, so we were immediately taught to fight and bind undead as soon as we could speak.

We are humanity's final defense against the hordes of undead and ancient technology now plaguing our world. Every day is a struggle to survive, but we still survive and will continue to do so until long after the undead threat is vanquished.

One day, after a grueling fight, I was cleaning blood and decaying flesh off of my armor when I saw a rather odd looking boy. He had spiky black hair and oddly colorful armor that clearly did not match his surroundings. Intrigued, I introduced myself, "Hello. My name is Lucy. What's your name?"

The boy said nothing, but instead stared off into space, as if taken aback by the question. He then nodded and said, "Lucian."

"Alright, Lucian, then." I inspected him from head to toe and realized that his armor was completely clean, no trace of combat. "Are you new here?" I asked,

"Yes." He nodded without saying another word. Not much of a talker, I guessed.

"OK. Well, let me finish cleaning myself off and I can help you out. Would you like to meet in the cafeteria after?"

"Yes." He again nodded.

Then something peculiar happened. I don't fully understand how, but time seemed to leap forward and we were suddenly in the cafeteria with food in our hands. I looked down and noticed my clothes were completely clean – in fact, I had changed into a rather slim green dress I didn't even know I had. I must have been way more tired than I thought!

Anyway, Lucian was right in front of me, so I asked, "Lucian. Where are you from?"

He didn't say a word.

"Are you from around here?"

"No." He said.

"OK, well... It's kinda hard to talk without more information. How can I help?"

He again looked off into space, as if heavily thinking and then said, "Where are we?"

"The cafeteria." I said, "Wait, are you OK?"

He again paused and said, "No. I just want to go home."

I didn't know what to say... Then it clicked. The weird armor and speech patterns. This person was from the other side of the Divide. He must be. How would I even ask about that without seeming insane? "Hey Lucian. Do you know what a facebook is?"

Lucian nodded, "Yes."

My heart leapt a bit, "Does that mean you are from the other side?"

"Yes."

I knew it! This is great! Lucian might be the only person on the planet who can understand the ancient technology! This might be our chance to truly fight against the undead army!

"Hey Lucian..." I took a deep breath, "I know this might all be new to you, but I am willing to teach you everything I know. Please party with me."

Lucian thought for a moment and then said, "yes."

In that moment, his eyes flashed green. Wait. Was that binding magic?

Suddenly, everything became a blur. First, I was showing Lucian how to bind undead. Then I was putting on some bizarre armor that Lucian put together. Then I was following his orders!

It felt like every time I blinked, I found myself in another fight or else helping Lucian in some way or another. I was no longer Lucy. I was merely Lucian's puppet, unable to say even a single word out-of-line.

One day, while in the cafeteria, my friend Fira came to visit, and I found that, for some reason, I was able to speak again. "Hey Fira, How have you been?"

"Hey Lucy. Who is this?" She asked while taking the nearest seat.

"This is Lucian. I've been helping him train lately."

Fira looked at him and then back to me, "Ah, Lucy and Lucian! Don't you make two peas in a pod?"

I wanted to laugh and ask,What does that even mean? but instead my face flushed and I said, "N-No! It's not like that!" A subtle reminder that I was still under Lucian's control.

Fira laughed, "I have never seen you act that way around anyone before! You must be crushin' on him!"

I felt revolted. Lucian was not a love interest! He cast binding magic on me, forcing me to do whatever he says! Instead, my body acted bashful and didn't say a word.

"Oook..." Fira looked a bit confused. "Look, Lucy. I need your help. Can we form a party?"

"Well, right now, Lucian is the leader of our party. Feel free to ask him."

Wait. No.

"OK." She looked at me a bit and then said, "Look, Lucy. You are acting really weird right now, but if you want me to ask Lucian, I will."

No, no no! I see where this is going!

"Lucian." She looked directly at him, "Would you like to form a party with me?"

"Yes." He said, and his eyes flashed a familiar green.

It was binding magic again. Now my best friend was stuck in this endless nightmare along with me.

I gotta be honest, I like this world and the idea that Lucy is tied to Lucian as an NPC... But I wasn't able to make the binding magic as emotionally gripping as I would have liked.

I also wanted Lucian to be the "hero to unite" the divided world, but that didn't exactly come into play.

I will probably come back to this one when I get used to writing again. Might turn it into a full novel!

+The NPC · Scribbleios
GitHub

The NPC

My grandfather often talks about the world before the Divide – a cataclysmic event where half the population on the planet were cast into another dimension. Apparently, before then, mages did not exist. Everyone communicated through strange devices they called "facebooks," which I can only imagine was some sort of contact list where each page was mirror that would reflect another person's face. He would often mumble about how he was happy that at least "Suckerberg" wasn't pushing "the meta" anymore, but honestly... I have no idea what any of that means.

Somehow, after the Divide, ancient technology burst into flames. The scientists of the time thought that our universe might have been the one that split off into an "anti-matter dimension" where electrons were now positrons with fundamentally different properties. They say that electrons could be conducted across wires and channeled without human interference, but positrons were different. They could not be contained and instead burst out into all directions.

The factories from the ancient world, now imbued with new, positronic energy, spontaneously exploded, wiping out nearby cities. Humans naturally fled to places where ancient technology was not as prevalent: rain forests, deserts, tundras, even the ocean depths – anywhere they thought they would be safe.

There was, however, a single advantage that we had over the ancients: magic. No one fully understood how or why, but over the next decade, humans became able to conjure fire and water at will. Then came flight, light manipulation, and several other disciplines of study.

The scientists of old quickly went to work and began recreating ancient technology with our new magic systems. Soon, magic circles became prevalent and were used to automate basic tasks. Over the next generation, we grew accustomed to our new lives and began to live as a single, united community known as the Federation.

About 20 years after the Divide came the infamous Great Proclamation, where the president of the Federation said:

These past 20 years have been tumultuous at best. We have lost all of our ancient technology. We have lost family and friends But we never lost hope. Now, with our new magic, we can cast away the old world entirely and start fresh. Today marks the first day in the New Era of humanity. From now on, we will no longer be focused on mere survival, but growth! We will rebuild. We will prosper! Long live the Federation!

For the first time since the Divide, humans felt hope, but the very next year, things changed.

Though we had thought the population of larger cities had been wiped out, that was not precisely true. A handful of people had survived and, fixated on the lives of their lost loved ones, had begun practicing forbidden magic: necromancy. Once a single human had been revived, it was found that necrotic tissue would spread, re-animating everyone who had been destroyed by ancient technology. Worse, the undead were also pumped full of positronic energy and could explode at any moment. They were indestructible and incredibly powerful. Frankly, humanity did not stand a chance.

We slowly began learning new binding magic to contain the undead and the Federation began enlisting soldiers to fight to protect those that could not protect themselves. For years, the Federal army fought every single day, constantly developing new techniques while involved in an all-out war.

Even with this turmoil, my generation was born. It was found that we had orders of magnitude more magical aptitude than previous generations, so we were immediately taught to fight and bind undead as soon as we could speak.

We are humanity's final defense against the hordes of undead and ancient technology now plaguing our world. Every day is a struggle to survive, but we still survive and will continue to do so until long after the undead threat is vanquished.

One day, after a grueling fight, I was cleaning blood and decaying flesh off of my armor when I saw a rather odd looking boy. He had spiky black hair and oddly colorful armor that clearly did not match his surroundings. Intrigued, I introduced myself, "Hello. My name is Lucy. What's your name?"

The boy said nothing, but instead stared off into space, as if taken aback by the question. He then nodded and said, "Lucian."

"Alright, Lucian, then." I inspected him from head to toe and realized that his armor was completely clean, no trace of combat. "Are you new here?" I asked,

"Yes." He nodded without saying another word. Not much of a talker, I guessed.

"OK. Well, let me finish cleaning myself off and I can help you out. Would you like to meet in the cafeteria after?"

"Yes." He again nodded.

Then something peculiar happened. I don't fully understand how, but time seemed to leap forward and we were suddenly in the cafeteria with food in our hands. I looked down and noticed my clothes were completely clean – in fact, I had changed into a rather slim green dress I didn't even know I had. I must have been way more tired than I thought!

Anyway, Lucian was right in front of me, so I asked, "Lucian. Where are you from?"

He didn't say a word.

"Are you from around here?"

"No." He said.

"OK, well... It's kinda hard to talk without more information. How can I help?"

He again looked off into space, as if heavily thinking and then said, "Where are we?"

"The cafeteria." I said, "Wait, are you OK?"

He again paused and said, "No. I just want to go home."

I didn't know what to say... Then it clicked. The weird armor and speech patterns. This person was from the other side of the Divide. He must be. How would I even ask about that without seeming insane? "Hey Lucian. Do you know what a facebook is?"

Lucian nodded, "Yes."

My heart leapt a bit, "Does that mean you are from the other side?"

"Yes."

I knew it! This is great! Lucian might be the only person on the planet who can understand the ancient technology! This might be our chance to truly fight against the undead army!

"Hey Lucian..." I took a deep breath, "I know this might all be new to you, but I am willing to teach you everything I know. Please party with me."

Lucian thought for a moment and then said, "yes."

In that moment, his eyes flashed green. Wait. Was that binding magic?

Suddenly, everything became a blur. First, I was showing Lucian how to bind undead. Then I was putting on some bizarre armor that Lucian put together. Then I was following his orders!

It felt like every time I blinked, I found myself in another fight or else helping Lucian in some way or another. I was no longer Lucy. I was merely Lucian's puppet, unable to say even a single word out-of-line.

One day, while in the cafeteria, my friend Fira came to visit, and I found that, for some reason, I was able to speak again. "Hey Fira, How have you been?"

"Hey Lucy. Who is this?" She asked while taking the nearest seat.

"This is Lucian. I've been helping him train lately."

Fira looked at him and then back to me, "Ah, Lucy and Lucian! Don't you make two peas in a pod?"

I wanted to laugh and ask,What does that even mean? but instead my face flushed and I said, "N-No! It's not like that!" A subtle reminder that I was still under Lucian's control.

Fira laughed, "I have never seen you act that way around anyone before! You must be crushin' on him!"

I felt revolted. Lucian was not a love interest! He cast binding magic on me, forcing me to do whatever he says! Instead, my body acted bashful and didn't say a word.

"Oook..." Fira looked a bit confused. "Look, Lucy. I need your help. Can we form a party?"

"Well, right now, Lucian is the leader of our party. Feel free to ask him."

Wait. No.

"OK." She looked at me a bit and then said, "Look, Lucy. You are acting really weird right now, but if you want me to ask Lucian, I will."

No, no no! I see where this is going!

"Lucian." She looked directly at him, "Would you like to form a party with me?"

"Yes." He said, and his eyes flashed a familiar green.

It was binding magic again. Now my best friend was stuck in this endless nightmare along with me.

I gotta be honest, I like this world and the idea that Lucy is tied to Lucian as an NPC... But I wasn't able to make the binding magic as emotionally gripping as I would have liked.

I also wanted Lucian to be the "hero to unite" the divided world, but that didn't exactly come into play.

I will probably come back to this one when I get used to writing again. Might turn it into a full novel!

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/December/28/index.html b/content/2021/December/28/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/December/28/index.html rename to content/2021/December/28/index.html index 5be3b8e..4a16374 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/December/28/index.html +++ b/content/2021/December/28/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -- · Scribbleios
GitHub

I've been really tired lately. I don't really know why, but when I wake up in the morning, I feel as if I hadn't slept at all.

I tried everything! I started going to bed early and made sure I don't watch anything before laying down. I would wake up later as well to wring out a few extra minutes of sleep every night. I even changed my diet and started working out regularly.

One day, out of sheer desperation, I asked my doctor if we could to a simple sleep study. A few weeks later, I found myself in a bed, dressed in a hospital gown with small electrodes hooked up to my head. The nurse told me to do what I could to have a "normal" night's rest and in a matter of minutes, I was unconscious.

Several hours later, I found myself awake, but not in the bed I fell asleep in. Instead, I was in the chair next to it. Still groggy, I rubbed at my eyes and looked around. The electrodes I had worn the night before were completely missing and the bed had been completely cleaned. "Hello?" I called, "I'm awake now! Sorry, I seem to have moved around a bit in my sleep!"

I somewhat awkwardly stood and rummaged for my clothes, but couldn't find them anywhere. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing the nurse from the night before. Her eyes opened wide when she saw me and she said, "Wait. How are you here?"

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean? I've been here all night, right?"

"I have been looking for you since 10:30 last night. I left your sleep study for a few minutes to tend to another patient and when I returned..." She shook her head, "Well, I thought you had woken up and walked out."

I thought for a bit and said, "Maybe sleep walking?"

"I thought that as well. I mean, you left all your stuff here as well, but after looking around everywhere, you were just completely gone." Her eyebrows furrowed a bit and she said, "Wait, come here. I have something to show you."

She led me to the monitoring room next door and motioned to one of the monitors. She didn't say anything for a moment and began clicking through a series of folders before finding one with my patient ID and the date of the study. A video opened up with 4 hours of content, but she quickly clicked on a particular timestamp at 10:30 PM. She then said, "OK. I know this sounds weird, but here's what happened last night around 10:30..."

I saw myself sleeping with my head gear and gown. After about a minute, she paused the video and said, "After this, there was a glitch..." When she started the video again, I saw myself disappear. "One moment, you were there. Another moment... Just gone." She navigated to 10:31:47 and began pressing flipping between two frames, one where I was sleeping soundly, and another where I completely vanished.

"I don't think I understand. What's happening?"

She didn't look at me, but instead kept flipping between the frames. "Here's the really weird part. Look at the headset." As she played the next few frames, the headset rolled a little, sinking towards the bed. "I thought it was a glitch. I kept telling myself you had just gotten up to go to the bathroom and the camera skipped a minute or two, but why would the helmet move like that?"

She kept rewinding the footage and playing it back.

I began to feel strangely uncomfortable, and said, "I still don't know what you mean? I mean, couldn't the AC have moved it or something."

She shook her head without allowing her eyes to leave the video footage. "It's like you literally disappeared. Just... gone in a single instant." She sighed and looked at me. "I looked for you for another hour and then cleaned the room and turned the camera off. Your clothes are over there." She motioned to the corner of the room.

I slowly began getting dressed without saying a word. The nurse kept scrubbing through the video, trying to figure out what happened. I tried to signal to her and ask if I was free to go, but she was preoccupied with what she saw on her screen.

I cleared my throat and asked, "So what do we do next?"

"Well," she turned to me and shook her head a bit, "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this. At the very least we need to try this again another night."

I sighed, "I see." If I'm honest, I didn't know what to think, so I just set up a new appointment and left.

Throughout the day, I kept feeling like something was off. Like we had just scratched the surface of a far greater mystery. Even if the camera had glitched, where had I gone to that night?

No matter the case, on the way home, I decided to stop by a local book store and bought a dream journal and textbook on lucid dreaming.

+- · Scribbleios
GitHub

I've been really tired lately. I don't really know why, but when I wake up in the morning, I feel as if I hadn't slept at all.

I tried everything! I started going to bed early and made sure I don't watch anything before laying down. I would wake up later as well to wring out a few extra minutes of sleep every night. I even changed my diet and started working out regularly.

One day, out of sheer desperation, I asked my doctor if we could to a simple sleep study. A few weeks later, I found myself in a bed, dressed in a hospital gown with small electrodes hooked up to my head. The nurse told me to do what I could to have a "normal" night's rest and in a matter of minutes, I was unconscious.

Several hours later, I found myself awake, but not in the bed I fell asleep in. Instead, I was in the chair next to it. Still groggy, I rubbed at my eyes and looked around. The electrodes I had worn the night before were completely missing and the bed had been completely cleaned. "Hello?" I called, "I'm awake now! Sorry, I seem to have moved around a bit in my sleep!"

I somewhat awkwardly stood and rummaged for my clothes, but couldn't find them anywhere. Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing the nurse from the night before. Her eyes opened wide when she saw me and she said, "Wait. How are you here?"

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean? I've been here all night, right?"

"I have been looking for you since 10:30 last night. I left your sleep study for a few minutes to tend to another patient and when I returned..." She shook her head, "Well, I thought you had woken up and walked out."

I thought for a bit and said, "Maybe sleep walking?"

"I thought that as well. I mean, you left all your stuff here as well, but after looking around everywhere, you were just completely gone." Her eyebrows furrowed a bit and she said, "Wait, come here. I have something to show you."

She led me to the monitoring room next door and motioned to one of the monitors. She didn't say anything for a moment and began clicking through a series of folders before finding one with my patient ID and the date of the study. A video opened up with 4 hours of content, but she quickly clicked on a particular timestamp at 10:30 PM. She then said, "OK. I know this sounds weird, but here's what happened last night around 10:30..."

I saw myself sleeping with my head gear and gown. After about a minute, she paused the video and said, "After this, there was a glitch..." When she started the video again, I saw myself disappear. "One moment, you were there. Another moment... Just gone." She navigated to 10:31:47 and began pressing flipping between two frames, one where I was sleeping soundly, and another where I completely vanished.

"I don't think I understand. What's happening?"

She didn't look at me, but instead kept flipping between the frames. "Here's the really weird part. Look at the headset." As she played the next few frames, the headset rolled a little, sinking towards the bed. "I thought it was a glitch. I kept telling myself you had just gotten up to go to the bathroom and the camera skipped a minute or two, but why would the helmet move like that?"

She kept rewinding the footage and playing it back.

I began to feel strangely uncomfortable, and said, "I still don't know what you mean? I mean, couldn't the AC have moved it or something."

She shook her head without allowing her eyes to leave the video footage. "It's like you literally disappeared. Just... gone in a single instant." She sighed and looked at me. "I looked for you for another hour and then cleaned the room and turned the camera off. Your clothes are over there." She motioned to the corner of the room.

I slowly began getting dressed without saying a word. The nurse kept scrubbing through the video, trying to figure out what happened. I tried to signal to her and ask if I was free to go, but she was preoccupied with what she saw on her screen.

I cleared my throat and asked, "So what do we do next?"

"Well," she turned to me and shook her head a bit, "I don't know. I've never seen anything like this. At the very least we need to try this again another night."

I sighed, "I see." If I'm honest, I didn't know what to think, so I just set up a new appointment and left.

Throughout the day, I kept feeling like something was off. Like we had just scratched the surface of a far greater mystery. Even if the camera had glitched, where had I gone to that night?

No matter the case, on the way home, I decided to stop by a local book store and bought a dream journal and textbook on lucid dreaming.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/February/01/index.html b/content/2021/February/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/February/01/index.html rename to content/2021/February/01/index.html index b64edf1..866fd9f 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/February/01/index.html +++ b/content/2021/February/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Potion Master · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Potion Master

An elderly gentleman bowed slightly as his customer left the shop and said, "Have a good day, sir!".

"Thanks, you too! This will really come in handy!" A young adventurer lifted a brown bag concealing a healing potion while closing the door behind him.

"Only the best for you, Tobi! Be sure to come back if you need anything!" The elderly man then slouched a bit in his seat and sighed before nodding to himself. His shop was littered with oddly-shaped jars filled with liquids of all different colors, all reflecting his shadow as he crept toward the door.

"Well, that's it for today!" He said as he flipped the shop sign to "closed." He then pulled out a broom and began to sweep the floor, whistling a slightly sour tune as he did so.

Once done, he returned the broom to the front of the store before opening the flap to the back room near the desk, where he was immediately welcomed by the quiet bubbling and brewing of various concoctions. Though there were no lamps, the room was illuminated by the glow of several different potions; however, there was a shaded black door across from the entrance that seemed hidden from plain sight. Amidst everything was a single desk with a large stack of papers, along with a quill and ink.

The man sighed again and pulled the chair back before sitting in it and staring at the ceiling. He then began to write:

Dear Illyna,

Today was a good day. We finally managed to save up 1000 gold coins, which should be enough to start you off on your journey!

Before you go, please take as many potions as you need! At the very least, please take a few health and defense potions. In fact, I can give you some of my favorite recipes in case you want to follow in your grandfather's footsteps and brew a few yourself!

When you were younger, you told me that you wanted to be the greatest adventurer to ever live. You said you wanted to protect everyone in the village and save the world from the Demon Lord.

Well, I believe in you. No matter what happens – no matter what challenges you encounter in life – please remember that.

I'll always be with you, encouraging you from the side lines. I miss you more than anything in the world.

I love you, Grampa

The man nodded and began sifting through the papers on his desk, all of which were filled with scribbles and crossed out phrases. This was it. The final letter.

He sealed it up in an envelope and placed it at the center of the desk before walking to the door on the far side of the room. He opened it and immediately turned on a small, flickering lamp. There were no windows, but it was possible to make out a single, small coffin in the center of the room, surrounded by a series of pipes and a giant cylinder just big enough to fit the old man. A small hole had been drilled into the coffin to allow one of the pipes to enter.

Potions were a tricky business. Stealth potions required foliage and the fur of stealthy creatures. Strength potions required tough materials, like horns and stone. Health potions required blood, and a lot of it. All of these ingredients could be found relatively abundantly. Even health potions could be made by sacrificing a few woodland creatures like mice or squirrels.

On the other hand, revival potions were another story entirely. They required human blood, human skin, human bones, and most importantly, a human soul. They were the essence of humanity distilled into a single tonic.

The old man took a deep breath and stepped into the machine. A few seconds after he closed it, there was a loud cracking noise, and white mist began to leak from the machine's improperly welded joints. Within minutes, a small dripping noise could be heard on the inside of the coffin.

The next morning, in complete darkness, the coffin's lid opened, revealing a pale little girl in a white dress.

The potion master, of course, was no where to be seen.

+The Potion Master · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Potion Master

An elderly gentleman bowed slightly as his customer left the shop and said, "Have a good day, sir!".

"Thanks, you too! This will really come in handy!" A young adventurer lifted a brown bag concealing a healing potion while closing the door behind him.

"Only the best for you, Tobi! Be sure to come back if you need anything!" The elderly man then slouched a bit in his seat and sighed before nodding to himself. His shop was littered with oddly-shaped jars filled with liquids of all different colors, all reflecting his shadow as he crept toward the door.

"Well, that's it for today!" He said as he flipped the shop sign to "closed." He then pulled out a broom and began to sweep the floor, whistling a slightly sour tune as he did so.

Once done, he returned the broom to the front of the store before opening the flap to the back room near the desk, where he was immediately welcomed by the quiet bubbling and brewing of various concoctions. Though there were no lamps, the room was illuminated by the glow of several different potions; however, there was a shaded black door across from the entrance that seemed hidden from plain sight. Amidst everything was a single desk with a large stack of papers, along with a quill and ink.

The man sighed again and pulled the chair back before sitting in it and staring at the ceiling. He then began to write:

Dear Illyna,

Today was a good day. We finally managed to save up 1000 gold coins, which should be enough to start you off on your journey!

Before you go, please take as many potions as you need! At the very least, please take a few health and defense potions. In fact, I can give you some of my favorite recipes in case you want to follow in your grandfather's footsteps and brew a few yourself!

When you were younger, you told me that you wanted to be the greatest adventurer to ever live. You said you wanted to protect everyone in the village and save the world from the Demon Lord.

Well, I believe in you. No matter what happens – no matter what challenges you encounter in life – please remember that.

I'll always be with you, encouraging you from the side lines. I miss you more than anything in the world.

I love you, Grampa

The man nodded and began sifting through the papers on his desk, all of which were filled with scribbles and crossed out phrases. This was it. The final letter.

He sealed it up in an envelope and placed it at the center of the desk before walking to the door on the far side of the room. He opened it and immediately turned on a small, flickering lamp. There were no windows, but it was possible to make out a single, small coffin in the center of the room, surrounded by a series of pipes and a giant cylinder just big enough to fit the old man. A small hole had been drilled into the coffin to allow one of the pipes to enter.

Potions were a tricky business. Stealth potions required foliage and the fur of stealthy creatures. Strength potions required tough materials, like horns and stone. Health potions required blood, and a lot of it. All of these ingredients could be found relatively abundantly. Even health potions could be made by sacrificing a few woodland creatures like mice or squirrels.

On the other hand, revival potions were another story entirely. They required human blood, human skin, human bones, and most importantly, a human soul. They were the essence of humanity distilled into a single tonic.

The old man took a deep breath and stepped into the machine. A few seconds after he closed it, there was a loud cracking noise, and white mist began to leak from the machine's improperly welded joints. Within minutes, a small dripping noise could be heard on the inside of the coffin.

The next morning, in complete darkness, the coffin's lid opened, revealing a pale little girl in a white dress.

The potion master, of course, was no where to be seen.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/February/02/index.html b/content/2021/February/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/February/02/index.html rename to content/2021/February/02/index.html index 93627f5..3ff4a2c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/February/02/index.html +++ b/content/2021/February/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Master's Disciple · Scribbleios
GitHub

This is a continuation of The Potion Master, but I think you might be able to read them in any order.

The Master's Disciple

It was a peaceful afternoon. The sun was setting and casting light onto a quaint village. Red rays were filtered through clouds, and the villagers were hastily preparing for the evening's celebrations. Tonight was the coming-of-age ceremony for the young adults who had passed their exams.

Every year, this night was one of merrymaking and joy, filled with bonfires, feasts, and gifts for all in attendance. At midnight, all of the new adults would be given their gifts from the gods by dipping their hand into the holy water, which would unveil their chosen crest.

Some were gifted with spellcasting or swordsmanship. Others were expert craftsmen or merchants. Still others became researchers or scholars.

No matter the case, this night was one the children would remember for the rest of their lives.

Once the sun sunk below the horizon, the bonfire was lit and cheers could be heard for miles around. For hours, the villagers sung and danced, forgetting the world around them. When it came close to midnight, a stand was erected near the fire and the ceremonial water was poured.

The village chief then called the first young adult, "Haro! Come! Be the first to receive your blessing!"

A strong young man stood and strode towards the chief. He then knelt and bowed his head towards the Earth before saying, "I am ready."

"Rise Haro. You are ready!" The chief said, "Dip your hands into the holy water and learn your fate!"

Haro stood and gently dipped his hands into the bath atop the pedestal. In that moment, a sharp light pulsed from the stand, even brighter than the fire behind them. Then, the chief took Haro's hand, inspected it and said, "Congratulations Haro! You will be a fine swordsman!"

Haro bowed and said, "I accept my responsibility." The crowd of villagers cheered as he returned to the crowd of students still awaiting their blessings, some of which gave him a congratulatory nod or pat on the shoulder.

The chief then called the next student and the next. For the next half hour, students were called and given blessings of all kinds.

"Now for our final student of the night!" The chief called, "This young lady was the most promising student we have ever had the privilege to teach in school. She is charismatic, cunning, and kind. I am pleased to call Illyna forward! Please come and accept your blessing!"

The crowd cheered as a young lady, with long, golden hair and garbed in a clean, white dress made her way to the pedestal. She knelt and said, "I am ready."

"Rise Illyna. You are ready! Dip your hands into the holy water and learn your fate!"

As she stood, the chief smiled and quietly said, "I'm looking forward to this."

Illyna nodded, "Me too." She then dipped her hand in the water, which glowed brighter than it ever had before, causing everyone in attendance to shield their eyes. At the same time, there was a loud crack, and when the light finally faded away, Illyna's silhouette could be seen against the fire, but the pedestal was broken and scattered into pieces.

Illyna looked around and then frantically began picking everything up, "I'm so sorry..." she began, but the chief cut her off.

"Let me see your hand Illyna." He grabbed the hand and inspected it before whispering, "I have never seen this symbol before." The crowd waited, anxiously anticipating her profession, but instead, the chief said nothing.

Soon thereafter, while Illyna was piecing together the stand, a loud trumpet could be heard from the outlying camps of the village. It was an alarm. Something dangerous was about to attack. The chief then called, "To arms! New adventurers. This is not your time to shine. You still need training! Everyone else, grab your weapon! Defend your home! Tonight is a night of celebration, not despair!"

As these words were spoken, arrows began descending on the villagers, some of which caught fire the moment they landed. Soon, the bonfire seemed to be an insignificant flame amongst a village ablaze.

The rest of the night was a blur, filled with chaos and tears.

The next thing Illyna knew, she was trapped in a small box. In the distance, she could hear gentle, but familiar bubbling of potions being brewed. She tapped at the top of the box before forcing it open and looking around. There was no doubt about it, she was in her grandfather's shop. As she moved out from her box, she noticed a large, metal contraption was tied to it which seemed to be connected to a giant cylinder of sorts.

"Grampa?" She called, "How did I get here?"

She opened the door and found herself in the back room, illuminated by a colorful set of potions.

"Grampa?" She called again, "Where are you?"

She noticed a small letter on the table, enclosed in an envelope that was signed to her. Without much thought, she opened the letter and immediately began crying.

Dear Illyna,

Today was a good day. We finally managed to save up 1000 gold coins, which should be enough to start you off on your journey!

Before you go, please take as many potions as you need! At the very least, please take a few health and defense potions. In fact, I can give you some of my favorite recipes in case you want to follow in your grandfather's footsteps and brew a few yourself!

When you were younger, you told me that you wanted to be the greatest adventurer to ever live. You said you wanted to protect everyone in the village and save the world from the Demon Lord.

Well, I believe in you. No matter what happens – no matter what challenges you encounter in life – please remember that.

I'll always be with you, encouraging you from the side lines. I miss you more than anything in the world.

I love you, Grampa

Next to it was a pile of papers filled with scribbles and crossed-out text. As she sifted through the notes, a small scrap of paper fell out, entitled, "Revival Potion."

+The Master's Disciple · Scribbleios
GitHub

This is a continuation of The Potion Master, but I think you might be able to read them in any order.

The Master's Disciple

It was a peaceful afternoon. The sun was setting and casting light onto a quaint village. Red rays were filtered through clouds, and the villagers were hastily preparing for the evening's celebrations. Tonight was the coming-of-age ceremony for the young adults who had passed their exams.

Every year, this night was one of merrymaking and joy, filled with bonfires, feasts, and gifts for all in attendance. At midnight, all of the new adults would be given their gifts from the gods by dipping their hand into the holy water, which would unveil their chosen crest.

Some were gifted with spellcasting or swordsmanship. Others were expert craftsmen or merchants. Still others became researchers or scholars.

No matter the case, this night was one the children would remember for the rest of their lives.

Once the sun sunk below the horizon, the bonfire was lit and cheers could be heard for miles around. For hours, the villagers sung and danced, forgetting the world around them. When it came close to midnight, a stand was erected near the fire and the ceremonial water was poured.

The village chief then called the first young adult, "Haro! Come! Be the first to receive your blessing!"

A strong young man stood and strode towards the chief. He then knelt and bowed his head towards the Earth before saying, "I am ready."

"Rise Haro. You are ready!" The chief said, "Dip your hands into the holy water and learn your fate!"

Haro stood and gently dipped his hands into the bath atop the pedestal. In that moment, a sharp light pulsed from the stand, even brighter than the fire behind them. Then, the chief took Haro's hand, inspected it and said, "Congratulations Haro! You will be a fine swordsman!"

Haro bowed and said, "I accept my responsibility." The crowd of villagers cheered as he returned to the crowd of students still awaiting their blessings, some of which gave him a congratulatory nod or pat on the shoulder.

The chief then called the next student and the next. For the next half hour, students were called and given blessings of all kinds.

"Now for our final student of the night!" The chief called, "This young lady was the most promising student we have ever had the privilege to teach in school. She is charismatic, cunning, and kind. I am pleased to call Illyna forward! Please come and accept your blessing!"

The crowd cheered as a young lady, with long, golden hair and garbed in a clean, white dress made her way to the pedestal. She knelt and said, "I am ready."

"Rise Illyna. You are ready! Dip your hands into the holy water and learn your fate!"

As she stood, the chief smiled and quietly said, "I'm looking forward to this."

Illyna nodded, "Me too." She then dipped her hand in the water, which glowed brighter than it ever had before, causing everyone in attendance to shield their eyes. At the same time, there was a loud crack, and when the light finally faded away, Illyna's silhouette could be seen against the fire, but the pedestal was broken and scattered into pieces.

Illyna looked around and then frantically began picking everything up, "I'm so sorry..." she began, but the chief cut her off.

"Let me see your hand Illyna." He grabbed the hand and inspected it before whispering, "I have never seen this symbol before." The crowd waited, anxiously anticipating her profession, but instead, the chief said nothing.

Soon thereafter, while Illyna was piecing together the stand, a loud trumpet could be heard from the outlying camps of the village. It was an alarm. Something dangerous was about to attack. The chief then called, "To arms! New adventurers. This is not your time to shine. You still need training! Everyone else, grab your weapon! Defend your home! Tonight is a night of celebration, not despair!"

As these words were spoken, arrows began descending on the villagers, some of which caught fire the moment they landed. Soon, the bonfire seemed to be an insignificant flame amongst a village ablaze.

The rest of the night was a blur, filled with chaos and tears.

The next thing Illyna knew, she was trapped in a small box. In the distance, she could hear gentle, but familiar bubbling of potions being brewed. She tapped at the top of the box before forcing it open and looking around. There was no doubt about it, she was in her grandfather's shop. As she moved out from her box, she noticed a large, metal contraption was tied to it which seemed to be connected to a giant cylinder of sorts.

"Grampa?" She called, "How did I get here?"

She opened the door and found herself in the back room, illuminated by a colorful set of potions.

"Grampa?" She called again, "Where are you?"

She noticed a small letter on the table, enclosed in an envelope that was signed to her. Without much thought, she opened the letter and immediately began crying.

Dear Illyna,

Today was a good day. We finally managed to save up 1000 gold coins, which should be enough to start you off on your journey!

Before you go, please take as many potions as you need! At the very least, please take a few health and defense potions. In fact, I can give you some of my favorite recipes in case you want to follow in your grandfather's footsteps and brew a few yourself!

When you were younger, you told me that you wanted to be the greatest adventurer to ever live. You said you wanted to protect everyone in the village and save the world from the Demon Lord.

Well, I believe in you. No matter what happens – no matter what challenges you encounter in life – please remember that.

I'll always be with you, encouraging you from the side lines. I miss you more than anything in the world.

I love you, Grampa

Next to it was a pile of papers filled with scribbles and crossed-out text. As she sifted through the notes, a small scrap of paper fell out, entitled, "Revival Potion."

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/February/03/index.html b/content/2021/February/03/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/February/03/index.html rename to content/2021/February/03/index.html index 177dbf5..2c7efb7 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/February/03/index.html +++ b/content/2021/February/03/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -A Talentless Student · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Talentless Student

Hello and welcome to Imperial University!

Here at Imperial, we only accept the best of the best – students who have shown their worth in their respective fields. All of you are here because you have proven yourselves worthy, whether that be in academics, athletics, art, or something else entirely! Our motto fits the school perfectly: "May the best person prevail!"

Our guide was a shabby young man in his Junior year and was wearing a loose-fitting shirt and jeans. His hair was thick and hung over his eyes, obscuring most of his face. Even so, he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear and managed to get through his script without stumbling.

As we began walking through the university campus, it became clear how different this school was compared to everywhere else. White spires stretched into the sky, spotted with oval windows, through which professors lectured or researchers conducted experiments. The pathway was paved in clean, red brick and was lined with a variety of flowering plants. The guide suddenly stopped in front of one building in particular, which had a series of equations painted on the side.

This is the physics department. We have managed to hire several Nobel laureates from almost every sub-discipline: quantum, thermodynamics, optics, classical mechanics, etc. Imperial University provides an education that cannot be beaten anywhere else in the world.

While he was talking, an older man walked out of the building. His face was twisted into a deep frown and he was obviously lost in thought. As he looked up, he lit up and called to our guide, "Steve, my boy! How are you today!" He then rushed towards us and slapped the guide on the shoulder before saying, "It's been ages since you came to lab! How is everything going?"

Steve laughed a bit and told the man he was showing some potential students around campus. The man nodded slightly before addressing us, "Steve here is a fine young student. You are in good hands! If any of you are half the student he is, you will do fine here!"

The man then slapped our guide's shoulder once more before walking off, whistling a tune as he did so. Steve then addressed us again,

That was Dr. Grubbin, he has been awarded the Nobel prize in both Chemistry and Physics. He is super nice, although he tends to lose himself in thought a bit.

Don't worry, we'll meet more of Imperial University's staff throughout the tour!

As we continued through campus, we saw state-of-the-art facilities like electron microscopes and vacuum chambers. We saw some of the best-selling authors for fantasy and science fiction. We even caught a few students building a drone for an analogue electronics project.

No matter what we saw, Steve explained everything with conviction. He seemed to deeply understand physics, literature, engineering, and business, and every time we visited another department, a professor or student stopped by to chat, only to turn to us and say something about how amazing Steve truly was.

After 2 hours or walking around, we found ourselves in a cafeteria filled with a variety of different restaurants.

Well, it is noon, and I am sure a lot of you are hungry. The cafeteria has some of the finest dining locations around, and is absolutely free for students.

Before you go, I would like to thank you for being such an amazing group. It was a privilege to meet you and I hope to see some of you in the Fall!

Of course, if you have any last questions, please ask now.

I tentatively raised my hand before asking, "Steve, you seem to be good at everything. What was your initial talent? Why were you invited in the first place?"

For the first time, Steve appeared visibly shaken and sighed a bit before quietly continuing, as if divulging a secret he did not want to be publicly known.

I don't have a talent.

In high school, my grades were mediocre. I was never the fastest runner or the best player on a team. I did everything I could to keep up with everyone else.

I was recruited for a different reason than any of you.

See, one day I was running late for school, but noticed an old man with a flat tire. Without thinking, I stopped to help him fix it. As I did so, we got to talking and I found out he was a prominent member of the Imperial Board that runs this university.

Everyone knows Imperial University only accepts the best of the best, so I said, "I wish I was good enough to get in there!"

He then looked at me and said, "Don't worry. You'll get in."

I am not here because I am the best at anything in particular. I'm here because I lent a helping hand to someone in need.

That's why I've been working hard every day to catch up to everyone here. I have been to every department and spoken to every professor. I have dabbled in every subject.

I am not here because I am one of the best. I am here because I am trying to be the best I can.

In the end, no matter how much talent you have, you will never improve without working hard and building a community to facilitate your own growth. When you surround yourself with talented people, you become talented, yourself.

Prompt: You got enrolled to the most prestigious school in the world. Every student has an amazing talent and are adored across the world. The only problem is, you have no special talent at all.

+A Talentless Student · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Talentless Student

Hello and welcome to Imperial University!

Here at Imperial, we only accept the best of the best – students who have shown their worth in their respective fields. All of you are here because you have proven yourselves worthy, whether that be in academics, athletics, art, or something else entirely! Our motto fits the school perfectly: "May the best person prevail!"

Our guide was a shabby young man in his Junior year and was wearing a loose-fitting shirt and jeans. His hair was thick and hung over his eyes, obscuring most of his face. Even so, he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear and managed to get through his script without stumbling.

As we began walking through the university campus, it became clear how different this school was compared to everywhere else. White spires stretched into the sky, spotted with oval windows, through which professors lectured or researchers conducted experiments. The pathway was paved in clean, red brick and was lined with a variety of flowering plants. The guide suddenly stopped in front of one building in particular, which had a series of equations painted on the side.

This is the physics department. We have managed to hire several Nobel laureates from almost every sub-discipline: quantum, thermodynamics, optics, classical mechanics, etc. Imperial University provides an education that cannot be beaten anywhere else in the world.

While he was talking, an older man walked out of the building. His face was twisted into a deep frown and he was obviously lost in thought. As he looked up, he lit up and called to our guide, "Steve, my boy! How are you today!" He then rushed towards us and slapped the guide on the shoulder before saying, "It's been ages since you came to lab! How is everything going?"

Steve laughed a bit and told the man he was showing some potential students around campus. The man nodded slightly before addressing us, "Steve here is a fine young student. You are in good hands! If any of you are half the student he is, you will do fine here!"

The man then slapped our guide's shoulder once more before walking off, whistling a tune as he did so. Steve then addressed us again,

That was Dr. Grubbin, he has been awarded the Nobel prize in both Chemistry and Physics. He is super nice, although he tends to lose himself in thought a bit.

Don't worry, we'll meet more of Imperial University's staff throughout the tour!

As we continued through campus, we saw state-of-the-art facilities like electron microscopes and vacuum chambers. We saw some of the best-selling authors for fantasy and science fiction. We even caught a few students building a drone for an analogue electronics project.

No matter what we saw, Steve explained everything with conviction. He seemed to deeply understand physics, literature, engineering, and business, and every time we visited another department, a professor or student stopped by to chat, only to turn to us and say something about how amazing Steve truly was.

After 2 hours or walking around, we found ourselves in a cafeteria filled with a variety of different restaurants.

Well, it is noon, and I am sure a lot of you are hungry. The cafeteria has some of the finest dining locations around, and is absolutely free for students.

Before you go, I would like to thank you for being such an amazing group. It was a privilege to meet you and I hope to see some of you in the Fall!

Of course, if you have any last questions, please ask now.

I tentatively raised my hand before asking, "Steve, you seem to be good at everything. What was your initial talent? Why were you invited in the first place?"

For the first time, Steve appeared visibly shaken and sighed a bit before quietly continuing, as if divulging a secret he did not want to be publicly known.

I don't have a talent.

In high school, my grades were mediocre. I was never the fastest runner or the best player on a team. I did everything I could to keep up with everyone else.

I was recruited for a different reason than any of you.

See, one day I was running late for school, but noticed an old man with a flat tire. Without thinking, I stopped to help him fix it. As I did so, we got to talking and I found out he was a prominent member of the Imperial Board that runs this university.

Everyone knows Imperial University only accepts the best of the best, so I said, "I wish I was good enough to get in there!"

He then looked at me and said, "Don't worry. You'll get in."

I am not here because I am the best at anything in particular. I'm here because I lent a helping hand to someone in need.

That's why I've been working hard every day to catch up to everyone here. I have been to every department and spoken to every professor. I have dabbled in every subject.

I am not here because I am one of the best. I am here because I am trying to be the best I can.

In the end, no matter how much talent you have, you will never improve without working hard and building a community to facilitate your own growth. When you surround yourself with talented people, you become talented, yourself.

Prompt: You got enrolled to the most prestigious school in the world. Every student has an amazing talent and are adored across the world. The only problem is, you have no special talent at all.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/01/index.html b/content/2021/January/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/01/index.html rename to content/2021/January/01/index.html index a113336..a53144f 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/01/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Who I Want to Be · Scribbleios
GitHub

Who I Want to Be

was a miserable child. I would cry for no reason and lash out at people emotionally. In middle school, I became suicidal, and acted on those impulses by jumping off my school's roof a few years later. Physically, I only suffered from a few minor scrapes and bruises, but I had died inside that day.

When I returned home, for some reason or another, I picked up a pen and started scribbling in a diary. The only problem was that I didn't know what to write. I didn't know why I was depressed, I just was. I ended up writing almost a dozen pages of crossed out sentences before finally changing tact:

As her eyes opened that morning, Tseph struggled to find the motivation to leave her bed. She was already exhausted from months of constant fighting and neither her body nor soul could stand another day.

Even though I couldn't figure out why I was feeling the way I did, I managed to create a character who could overcome similar challenges, and in doing so I could figure out how to overcome them, myself. For the next decade, I wrote short stories every day, all of them featuring Tseph as the main character. In many ways, Tseph was the embodiment of perfection, and I was slowly adopting her mannerisms in my daily life.

She was bold, so I tried to fix my social phobias. She was intelligent, so I studied as hard as I could. She was strong, so I kept my body fit.

As time went on, people started to notice and complement me on who I had become, but I was not who they thought I was. I was still the miserable, depressed child. I was just masquerading as a fictional character I had invented.

This meant that every complement I received pierced at my soul, causing me to feel physically ill. Every night, after writing my short story for the day, I would lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to piece together how to tell the world that I was living a lie and, in fact, an impostor.

Last night was New Year's Eve, and as I closed my eyes and fell asleep to a familiar knot in my stomach, I found myself whispering something surprising out loud. "God... If you exist, please just let me be Tseph."

When I woke up, the world was in chaos. I rolled over and picked up my phone before read the headline, "Identity Crisis: Everyone is an Idol!" Confused, I read the article further. Apparently, everyone had woken up this morning as their favorite fictional character. There were multiple Harry Potters and Sherlock Holmes. Anime lovers suddenly became their waifus. It was pure, unadulterated chaos.

I rubbed at my temples, trying to figure out who my favorite fictional character was. Min from the Wheel of Time? Shouko from Koe no Katachi? Gwenpool?

Slightly nervous, I took a deep breath and walked to my bathroom mirror. When I looked up, I saw my own reflection staring back at me.

I didn't change.

I looked outside and saw endless copies of famous characters from shows I had seen and books I had read. Why was I the only one to remain the same?

In that moment it dawned on me.

I was never an impostor. I had already become the exact person I wanted to be.

Prompt: You've just woken up hungover from last night's celebrations. However, your world is much changed and confusing because everyone looks and is acting like their favorite fictional/non-fictional character.

+Who I Want to Be · Scribbleios
GitHub

Who I Want to Be

was a miserable child. I would cry for no reason and lash out at people emotionally. In middle school, I became suicidal, and acted on those impulses by jumping off my school's roof a few years later. Physically, I only suffered from a few minor scrapes and bruises, but I had died inside that day.

When I returned home, for some reason or another, I picked up a pen and started scribbling in a diary. The only problem was that I didn't know what to write. I didn't know why I was depressed, I just was. I ended up writing almost a dozen pages of crossed out sentences before finally changing tact:

As her eyes opened that morning, Tseph struggled to find the motivation to leave her bed. She was already exhausted from months of constant fighting and neither her body nor soul could stand another day.

Even though I couldn't figure out why I was feeling the way I did, I managed to create a character who could overcome similar challenges, and in doing so I could figure out how to overcome them, myself. For the next decade, I wrote short stories every day, all of them featuring Tseph as the main character. In many ways, Tseph was the embodiment of perfection, and I was slowly adopting her mannerisms in my daily life.

She was bold, so I tried to fix my social phobias. She was intelligent, so I studied as hard as I could. She was strong, so I kept my body fit.

As time went on, people started to notice and complement me on who I had become, but I was not who they thought I was. I was still the miserable, depressed child. I was just masquerading as a fictional character I had invented.

This meant that every complement I received pierced at my soul, causing me to feel physically ill. Every night, after writing my short story for the day, I would lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, trying to piece together how to tell the world that I was living a lie and, in fact, an impostor.

Last night was New Year's Eve, and as I closed my eyes and fell asleep to a familiar knot in my stomach, I found myself whispering something surprising out loud. "God... If you exist, please just let me be Tseph."

When I woke up, the world was in chaos. I rolled over and picked up my phone before read the headline, "Identity Crisis: Everyone is an Idol!" Confused, I read the article further. Apparently, everyone had woken up this morning as their favorite fictional character. There were multiple Harry Potters and Sherlock Holmes. Anime lovers suddenly became their waifus. It was pure, unadulterated chaos.

I rubbed at my temples, trying to figure out who my favorite fictional character was. Min from the Wheel of Time? Shouko from Koe no Katachi? Gwenpool?

Slightly nervous, I took a deep breath and walked to my bathroom mirror. When I looked up, I saw my own reflection staring back at me.

I didn't change.

I looked outside and saw endless copies of famous characters from shows I had seen and books I had read. Why was I the only one to remain the same?

In that moment it dawned on me.

I was never an impostor. I had already become the exact person I wanted to be.

Prompt: You've just woken up hungover from last night's celebrations. However, your world is much changed and confusing because everyone looks and is acting like their favorite fictional/non-fictional character.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/02/index.html b/content/2021/January/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/02/index.html rename to content/2021/January/02/index.html index 6a6ce83..2a98a28 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/02/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Anti-Poem · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Anti-Poem

A little known fact, the artist once knew: There's more than five shades to the color blue, And with every failed adventure of yours, Comes seven more a-knocking at the doors Of yet unopened worlds for you to see, If only you knew of what they could be!

This was my mother's poem – her guiding principle bestowed upon her by God, himself. Because of it, she found success in her creative passions: writing, art, music, etc. Though she was a single mother, she managed to self-publish a best-selling line of books that was later turned into a one of the greatest movie franchises of the century.

Any time she was asked about her success, she would repeat the poem and say that she was "blessed by God to have been given both meter and rhyme."

For millennia, humanity has used their guiding poems to achieve greatness. After the end of kindergarten, all children were asked to read their poems to a review panel who would then decide their fate depending on the contents of the poem, itself. If it mentioned advancement of human civilization, the child would be driven towards science and technology. If it mentioned creating something new, the child would be taught art or music. If it could not be fully understood, the child would be sent to the miscellaneous school until they discovered their talent and could proceed down the appropriate track. If a student were to remain miscellaneous until high school, they were generally considered to be purposeless, the lowest type of human.

I was one such individual. Even so, I managed to open a huge number of businesses and am now one of the richest people in the world.

Here is my poem:

You are unbound from the world's rules. Do as you please.

Sometimes the best way to succeed is by breaking tradition.

Prompt: Everyone gets a poem when they are born, and the quality and length of the poem decides the quality and length of their life. Your poem was only two lines long and didn’t even rhyme, yet you managed to become the world’s richest person and are still living well past your hundredth year.

+The Anti-Poem · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Anti-Poem

A little known fact, the artist once knew: There's more than five shades to the color blue, And with every failed adventure of yours, Comes seven more a-knocking at the doors Of yet unopened worlds for you to see, If only you knew of what they could be!

This was my mother's poem – her guiding principle bestowed upon her by God, himself. Because of it, she found success in her creative passions: writing, art, music, etc. Though she was a single mother, she managed to self-publish a best-selling line of books that was later turned into a one of the greatest movie franchises of the century.

Any time she was asked about her success, she would repeat the poem and say that she was "blessed by God to have been given both meter and rhyme."

For millennia, humanity has used their guiding poems to achieve greatness. After the end of kindergarten, all children were asked to read their poems to a review panel who would then decide their fate depending on the contents of the poem, itself. If it mentioned advancement of human civilization, the child would be driven towards science and technology. If it mentioned creating something new, the child would be taught art or music. If it could not be fully understood, the child would be sent to the miscellaneous school until they discovered their talent and could proceed down the appropriate track. If a student were to remain miscellaneous until high school, they were generally considered to be purposeless, the lowest type of human.

I was one such individual. Even so, I managed to open a huge number of businesses and am now one of the richest people in the world.

Here is my poem:

You are unbound from the world's rules. Do as you please.

Sometimes the best way to succeed is by breaking tradition.

Prompt: Everyone gets a poem when they are born, and the quality and length of the poem decides the quality and length of their life. Your poem was only two lines long and didn’t even rhyme, yet you managed to become the world’s richest person and are still living well past your hundredth year.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/03/index.html b/content/2021/January/03/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/03/index.html rename to content/2021/January/03/index.html index 3379acd..3c4b619 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/03/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/03/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Girlfriend · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Girlfriend

Look. I'm not one to judge. I've seen demon hunters of all different shapes and sizes, from fragile women with huge magical aptitude to gruff men with battle axes in hand. Some people work better in pairs, others don't. This is why I always allow new party members the option to invite a partner.

The other day, we hired a new guy named Jake who was in his mid twenties. He didn't look too tough, but there was something about the way he carried himself that revealed his expertise. I offered him a position after watching him de-escalate a full-on bar brawl between roughly 10 ruffians without a single punch. I had to vouch for him a bit with the rest of the party, but they all agreed after some discussion. I knew he would show his worth on the first hunting trip.

The night before the first outing, I pulled Jake aside and told him what I tell every new party member, "Lookie here. Demon hunting is no joke. If you take one misstep, you could lose your life, or worse: cause another member of the party to die. It's physically and emotionally draining so if you feel the need to, please bring a +1 to help out."

I then paused for a moment and gave him a stern look before patting him on the back. I said, "Don't worry, you'll do great!"

The next morning, Jake arrived with a stunningly gorgeous woman. She was wearing a tight sundress and matching hat. Her hair was styled, her nails were painted, and she wore light sandals that clearly wouldn't hold up after a single day of travel – let alone a week!

I nodded suspiciously to the woman before pulling Jake aside again and asking, "Hey Jake... Who is she?"

"Ah, you said I could bring a +1, so I brought my girlfriend Jackie. She's an angel."

I gave him another stern look, "I told you. This is a life and death situation. She could die."

"It will be fine." Jake waved the comment away. "I'm sure she can handle it!"

Again, I wasn't one to judge, but as I looked towards Jackie, she didn't seem to have any combat experience at all. Did she even know what a demon was? I looked Jake in the eyes, "Let me talk to her to make sure she knows what this is all about."

Jake again waved away the comment. "I told her. She was excited to join!"

"Right, but..." I trailed off, "I'm the party lead. I just need to make sure."

"Alright, I understand. I believe you'll be suitably impressed." Jake called his girlfriend over and left the two of us alone.

"Soooooo..." She began adjusting her hair a bit. "What's this about?" She didn't look me in the eyes, but instead looked around at the other party members. She did not understand the gravity of the situation at all.

I sighed a bit. "Look, Jackie. This is a demon-hunting trip. Do you know what demons are?"

"Yeah, of course!" She giggled a bit, "Big ol' half-human folks."

"Well, not all of them are big. In fact, even a small demon can kill someone like you."

Her eyes then narrowed a bit, "What do you mean someone like me?"

I sighed. "Look, just stay out of our way and try not to get hurt. It will be incredibly dangerous and you might die. This is also Jake's first mission and he needs to prove himself in the party."

She didn't say anything for a moment, but then asked "Are you trying to get me to leave?"

"No no. You can stay, but look: it will be dangerous and I don't want someone like you getting hurt."

"Mhmm" she said while crossing her arms beneath her chest, "I'm coming. I have been wanting a weekend away with Jake for months and this is my only opportunity. Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way. Is that all?"

"Yes. That will be all." I could feel a seed of anger begin to bubble up inside of me. This girl would get one of us killed, I knew it. Still. I wasn't one to judge. Maybe she could hold her own after all.

After a little more preparation, we were on our way. The goal was to find the greater demon in the heart of the TellTale Woods. The demon had been known to be incredibly hostile, capable of killing adventurers within seconds. We did not encounter too many problems throughout the journey, and although Jackie was constantly complaining about the heat or how the sweat made her make-up run, she did manage to keep up with the rest of the party.

The night before our final decent into the demon's lair, I gathered the party around the campfire. "Alright, we are almost there. Everyone knows the plan, we will start moving at dawn. Be sure to get some rest. Tomorrow will be incredibly challenging."

Everyone seemed to have mixed emotions. Some solemnly nodded, taking a swig of alcohol. Others cheered a bit, happy to finally finish their venture. Jackie seemed perplexed. She looked at me in the eye and said, "Actually, I don't think I've been told the plan."

"Don't worry Jackie. You can just stay here and hold down the camp."

She glared back, but didn't say anything. After a bit of discussion with the rest of the party, everyone except the scout went to sleep for the evening.

A few hours later, everyone was awoken to the sound of a lone trumpet piercing the forest's ambiance. It was an ambush. The greater demon knew where we were and caught us before we could catch it.

As I opened my tent flap, I saw it: a giant four-legged beast whose eyes glowed a dark, angry red. It was surrounded by a luminescent purple haze, an unmistakable sign of its huge magical energy. In the pit of my stomach, I knew we were doomed, but I held my bravado and yelled, "To arms!"

As we scrambled to get our weapons, the beast howled and charged. As it came closer, it appeared to be the size of 3 or 4 tents – much larger than I thought. We were under-prepared and delirious from sleep. This was not a time for fighting, but fleeing.

"Strike that!" I called. "Run! Run as far as you can!"

And that was precisely what I did. I ran without looking back. I wasn't going to die here. In the distance, I heard Jake's voice. "Jackie!" He called, "Jackie, where are you?"

I knew she shouldn't have come. There is no way she could survive something like this. Now, Jake would die too trying to protect her.

"Jackie!" He called again, "It's time!"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light that seemed to illuminate the entire forest, causing me to stumble and fall. I looked back to where the demon had been, shielding my eyes from the sun. Wait. The sun?

I squinted my eyes and looked into the sky, where a beautiful woman with six angelic wings seemed to hover in mid-air. She held a bow in her arms, aimed at the demon below, who seemed to be frozen in fear. She began chanting in some unknown language before shooting a single arrow that created a beam of light and pierced the demon completely through.

It howled and cried, eventually evaporating into the air as the woman drifted to the forest floor. She then slowly began to dim, creating the silhouette of a young woman.

I rushed back to camp, only to see Jackie standing next to the fire with a bow in hand. Jake put a hand on my shoulder and said, "She's an angel, isn't she?"

"Yeah." I said back, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first."

From then on, I truly did stop judging people.

EDIT: Sorry! This one went long!

Prompt: "So when we said you could take a hunting partner with you, we meant like another person, or a bloodhound or something." you said looking at their "+1"

+The Girlfriend · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Girlfriend

Look. I'm not one to judge. I've seen demon hunters of all different shapes and sizes, from fragile women with huge magical aptitude to gruff men with battle axes in hand. Some people work better in pairs, others don't. This is why I always allow new party members the option to invite a partner.

The other day, we hired a new guy named Jake who was in his mid twenties. He didn't look too tough, but there was something about the way he carried himself that revealed his expertise. I offered him a position after watching him de-escalate a full-on bar brawl between roughly 10 ruffians without a single punch. I had to vouch for him a bit with the rest of the party, but they all agreed after some discussion. I knew he would show his worth on the first hunting trip.

The night before the first outing, I pulled Jake aside and told him what I tell every new party member, "Lookie here. Demon hunting is no joke. If you take one misstep, you could lose your life, or worse: cause another member of the party to die. It's physically and emotionally draining so if you feel the need to, please bring a +1 to help out."

I then paused for a moment and gave him a stern look before patting him on the back. I said, "Don't worry, you'll do great!"

The next morning, Jake arrived with a stunningly gorgeous woman. She was wearing a tight sundress and matching hat. Her hair was styled, her nails were painted, and she wore light sandals that clearly wouldn't hold up after a single day of travel – let alone a week!

I nodded suspiciously to the woman before pulling Jake aside again and asking, "Hey Jake... Who is she?"

"Ah, you said I could bring a +1, so I brought my girlfriend Jackie. She's an angel."

I gave him another stern look, "I told you. This is a life and death situation. She could die."

"It will be fine." Jake waved the comment away. "I'm sure she can handle it!"

Again, I wasn't one to judge, but as I looked towards Jackie, she didn't seem to have any combat experience at all. Did she even know what a demon was? I looked Jake in the eyes, "Let me talk to her to make sure she knows what this is all about."

Jake again waved away the comment. "I told her. She was excited to join!"

"Right, but..." I trailed off, "I'm the party lead. I just need to make sure."

"Alright, I understand. I believe you'll be suitably impressed." Jake called his girlfriend over and left the two of us alone.

"Soooooo..." She began adjusting her hair a bit. "What's this about?" She didn't look me in the eyes, but instead looked around at the other party members. She did not understand the gravity of the situation at all.

I sighed a bit. "Look, Jackie. This is a demon-hunting trip. Do you know what demons are?"

"Yeah, of course!" She giggled a bit, "Big ol' half-human folks."

"Well, not all of them are big. In fact, even a small demon can kill someone like you."

Her eyes then narrowed a bit, "What do you mean someone like me?"

I sighed. "Look, just stay out of our way and try not to get hurt. It will be incredibly dangerous and you might die. This is also Jake's first mission and he needs to prove himself in the party."

She didn't say anything for a moment, but then asked "Are you trying to get me to leave?"

"No no. You can stay, but look: it will be dangerous and I don't want someone like you getting hurt."

"Mhmm" she said while crossing her arms beneath her chest, "I'm coming. I have been wanting a weekend away with Jake for months and this is my only opportunity. Don't worry, I'll stay out of your way. Is that all?"

"Yes. That will be all." I could feel a seed of anger begin to bubble up inside of me. This girl would get one of us killed, I knew it. Still. I wasn't one to judge. Maybe she could hold her own after all.

After a little more preparation, we were on our way. The goal was to find the greater demon in the heart of the TellTale Woods. The demon had been known to be incredibly hostile, capable of killing adventurers within seconds. We did not encounter too many problems throughout the journey, and although Jackie was constantly complaining about the heat or how the sweat made her make-up run, she did manage to keep up with the rest of the party.

The night before our final decent into the demon's lair, I gathered the party around the campfire. "Alright, we are almost there. Everyone knows the plan, we will start moving at dawn. Be sure to get some rest. Tomorrow will be incredibly challenging."

Everyone seemed to have mixed emotions. Some solemnly nodded, taking a swig of alcohol. Others cheered a bit, happy to finally finish their venture. Jackie seemed perplexed. She looked at me in the eye and said, "Actually, I don't think I've been told the plan."

"Don't worry Jackie. You can just stay here and hold down the camp."

She glared back, but didn't say anything. After a bit of discussion with the rest of the party, everyone except the scout went to sleep for the evening.

A few hours later, everyone was awoken to the sound of a lone trumpet piercing the forest's ambiance. It was an ambush. The greater demon knew where we were and caught us before we could catch it.

As I opened my tent flap, I saw it: a giant four-legged beast whose eyes glowed a dark, angry red. It was surrounded by a luminescent purple haze, an unmistakable sign of its huge magical energy. In the pit of my stomach, I knew we were doomed, but I held my bravado and yelled, "To arms!"

As we scrambled to get our weapons, the beast howled and charged. As it came closer, it appeared to be the size of 3 or 4 tents – much larger than I thought. We were under-prepared and delirious from sleep. This was not a time for fighting, but fleeing.

"Strike that!" I called. "Run! Run as far as you can!"

And that was precisely what I did. I ran without looking back. I wasn't going to die here. In the distance, I heard Jake's voice. "Jackie!" He called, "Jackie, where are you?"

I knew she shouldn't have come. There is no way she could survive something like this. Now, Jake would die too trying to protect her.

"Jackie!" He called again, "It's time!"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light that seemed to illuminate the entire forest, causing me to stumble and fall. I looked back to where the demon had been, shielding my eyes from the sun. Wait. The sun?

I squinted my eyes and looked into the sky, where a beautiful woman with six angelic wings seemed to hover in mid-air. She held a bow in her arms, aimed at the demon below, who seemed to be frozen in fear. She began chanting in some unknown language before shooting a single arrow that created a beam of light and pierced the demon completely through.

It howled and cried, eventually evaporating into the air as the woman drifted to the forest floor. She then slowly began to dim, creating the silhouette of a young woman.

I rushed back to camp, only to see Jackie standing next to the fire with a bow in hand. Jake put a hand on my shoulder and said, "She's an angel, isn't she?"

"Yeah." I said back, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first."

From then on, I truly did stop judging people.

EDIT: Sorry! This one went long!

Prompt: "So when we said you could take a hunting partner with you, we meant like another person, or a bloodhound or something." you said looking at their "+1"

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/22/index.html b/content/2021/January/22/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/22/index.html rename to content/2021/January/22/index.html index e09b35e..6d19138 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/22/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/22/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Super Couple · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Super Couple

Dr. Dismal slouched in his office chair after yet another failed attempt to take over the tri-state area. This time, he had developed a machine to brainwash the mayor into handing him the key to the city. He called the machine the hypnosisinator and had also used it to hypnotize a captive audience to remain seated to watch the ceremonial proceedings, which was necessary for the event to be legally binding.

Right after the key was given to Dr. Dismal, a voice echoed throughout the arena, "Dr. Dismal! You will never receive the key to the city!"

"What? Who said that?" Dr. Dismal shielded his eyes from the sun and looked out into the crowd. "Seriously, it's too bright and I'm a night owl. I can't see anything!"

"It's me! Miss Terri! I have come to take you down!" Suddenly, a young woman flew from the middle of the crowd and onto the stage. She was wearing exactly what you might expect from a super-hero: tight purple spandex, a white cape, and a mask that somehow changed shape depending on her facial expression underneath. Seriously, that mask technology is weird. Like, how does a mask blink? Miss Terri cleared her throat, "Ahem. People probably don't care about my mask."

Ah, right. My mistake. Ok, so Dr. Dismal was obviously shocked at the appearance of his long-term nemesis, but knew he had won this time. "It's too late this time Miss Terri! I already have the key, and with so many people in the audience, there is no legal way for you to take it from me. See..."

Dr. Dismal then began a rather obnoxious monologue about how when he was little, he did not have the key to his own room and was forced to change with his door open, causing the next door neighbor to see him naked on multiple occasions, which is why he wanted the key to the city so he could lock his door at night.

Wait. What?

Like, call a locksmith, dude. Also, why would the key to the city help in this case?

Dr. Dismal seemed confused. "Wait. This can open and close any door in the city, right?"

Throughout the entire monologue, Miss Terri had been dismantling the hypnosisinator, but looked up from her work for a moment to say, "No, no. That key is largely just ceremonial at this stage. I don't think it actually does anything."

"Ah. My mistake." Dr. Dismal sighed and handed the key back to the mayor. "Well, curse you Miss Terri... I have been foiled again."

"I didn't even do anything this time, though." Miss Terri said before pressing a button and canceling the signal. "It was mainly the narrator this time."

"Ah yeah. Curse you Narrator as well..." Dr. Dismal sighed again, "I wish you would have at least let me tell my backstory instead of narrating over it."

Ah, right. My bad. Next time, maybe.

"Right. Ok. See you guys later." Dr. Dismal then casually walked out of the arena while the crowd began to regain their consciousness.

Back at home, he removed his ridiculous costume and pulled out his cell phone to begin his nightly ritual of hope-scrolling Twiddler while muttering to himself, "I just do not understand what I'm doing wrong. Every single time I try to take over the tri-state area, Miss Terri comes in and messes everything up. I feel like I need something more in life."

After he said this, he sighed and looked around the room. There were clothes littered about and a bowl of old, now dried rice sat on his desk. Tattered textbooks had become makeshift tables on the floor for blueprints to inventions that would never work. Honestly, his life was a mess.

"Hey. No need to get snippy with me. I'm just going through a rough patch, is all." He said, obviously delirious. He had focused so much on trying to take over the tri-state area that his whole life had spiraled out of control.

"Ok. Look. I have had a rough day... Well, a rough year. Just leave me alone." He needed to find happiness, but didn't know where to look. Clearly, he was a failure of a villain. Maybe he should settle down and start a nice family life?

Dr. Dismal sighed again and opened Ember, the newest dating app. He created a profile with a somewhat photoshopped image of himself and started browsing the people in his area while muttering to himself, "No. No. No. Ew. No. No. Wait..."

He landed on the picture of a young woman: Terri Terra. The bio read, "Hero by day, student by night. Physics undergrad. A bit busy, but down to get coffee or something." There was no doubt, this was Miss Terri.

He swept right. He knew this would be a good way to exact revenge. All he had to do was get her to form romantic feelings for him, and then he would be able to take over the tri-state area without any competition!

Dr. Dismal (D): Hey Miss Terri (M): Hello Eugene

Wait. Dr. Dismal's first name is Eugene? "Yes, it is. Just shut up about it."

D: I saw your profile. I have a PhD in physics and would be happy to help tutor you, if you know what I mean? M: Right. I am working on electricity and magnetism now and cannot seem to understand Gauss's Law. D: Ah, right. That one takes a bunch of integration, but that's it. It's just geometry, don't overthink it.

Ok. Wait. I don't think the readers actually care about this stuff, so I'll skip forward a few days. They had moved on from Ember and on to basic texting.

M: Well, thanks to you, I passed the test with flying colors! M: :super-hero emoji: D: Happy to hear that! E&M was my hardest undergrad class, but it ended up being essential to my thesis!

Wait, they are still talking physics? Isn't this supposed to be somewhat romantic or something? "Look. Narrator, I might need some help here." Dr. Dismal said to himself.

"I'm not talking to myself. I am clearly talking to you, the Narrator" Dr. Dismal said again to himself. As the narrator to the story, I am not allowed to provide my own personal opinion on the lives of those I am narrating.

"Look. I think I might like her." He said, knowing that Miss Terri was way, way, way, way, way out of his league.

"Shut up. She's smart and funny. And with her powers, I imagine we could have a lot of fun..." He trailed off, clearly thinking lewd thoughts.

"Will you help me or not?" He said to again himself. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

M: Hey. Do you want to meet at the local library and help me with thermodynamics?

"Oh, shoot. What do I do? If we meet up, she'll know it's me!" He said, without thinking about the fact that Dr. Dismal always wears a ridiculous disguise to hide his identity. "Oh, right." He said.

D: I would be happy to! What are you studying? M: Heat transfer. D: Sounds good.

Dr. Dismal knew that if he was going to make a move, now was the time. "Wait, I don't think now is the best time, actually." Now was the time! Dr. Dismal began nervously typing,

D: If you want, I can give you a private lesson on heat transfer at my house later ;)

Was that a pick-up line?

"Look! I don't do well under pressure." Clearly not. Nevertheless, she texted back,

M: Only if you are willing to do a deep dive, if you know what I mean? ;)

What? What is happening? I guess the super-hero and super-villain are going on a date after all!

"That's right we are! Don't ever question my methods again!" Dr. Dismal said satisfactorily, knowing that his room would need hours of deep cleaning before anyone else would dare enter.

"Touche" He said. "Touche."

Note: I was trying to have a strong narrative voice. Don't know if it worked!

Prompt: the villain went undercover on a dating app in order to sabotage the hero’s dating life and break their heart. The only problem: they actually began to fall for them.

+The Super Couple · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Super Couple

Dr. Dismal slouched in his office chair after yet another failed attempt to take over the tri-state area. This time, he had developed a machine to brainwash the mayor into handing him the key to the city. He called the machine the hypnosisinator and had also used it to hypnotize a captive audience to remain seated to watch the ceremonial proceedings, which was necessary for the event to be legally binding.

Right after the key was given to Dr. Dismal, a voice echoed throughout the arena, "Dr. Dismal! You will never receive the key to the city!"

"What? Who said that?" Dr. Dismal shielded his eyes from the sun and looked out into the crowd. "Seriously, it's too bright and I'm a night owl. I can't see anything!"

"It's me! Miss Terri! I have come to take you down!" Suddenly, a young woman flew from the middle of the crowd and onto the stage. She was wearing exactly what you might expect from a super-hero: tight purple spandex, a white cape, and a mask that somehow changed shape depending on her facial expression underneath. Seriously, that mask technology is weird. Like, how does a mask blink? Miss Terri cleared her throat, "Ahem. People probably don't care about my mask."

Ah, right. My mistake. Ok, so Dr. Dismal was obviously shocked at the appearance of his long-term nemesis, but knew he had won this time. "It's too late this time Miss Terri! I already have the key, and with so many people in the audience, there is no legal way for you to take it from me. See..."

Dr. Dismal then began a rather obnoxious monologue about how when he was little, he did not have the key to his own room and was forced to change with his door open, causing the next door neighbor to see him naked on multiple occasions, which is why he wanted the key to the city so he could lock his door at night.

Wait. What?

Like, call a locksmith, dude. Also, why would the key to the city help in this case?

Dr. Dismal seemed confused. "Wait. This can open and close any door in the city, right?"

Throughout the entire monologue, Miss Terri had been dismantling the hypnosisinator, but looked up from her work for a moment to say, "No, no. That key is largely just ceremonial at this stage. I don't think it actually does anything."

"Ah. My mistake." Dr. Dismal sighed and handed the key back to the mayor. "Well, curse you Miss Terri... I have been foiled again."

"I didn't even do anything this time, though." Miss Terri said before pressing a button and canceling the signal. "It was mainly the narrator this time."

"Ah yeah. Curse you Narrator as well..." Dr. Dismal sighed again, "I wish you would have at least let me tell my backstory instead of narrating over it."

Ah, right. My bad. Next time, maybe.

"Right. Ok. See you guys later." Dr. Dismal then casually walked out of the arena while the crowd began to regain their consciousness.

Back at home, he removed his ridiculous costume and pulled out his cell phone to begin his nightly ritual of hope-scrolling Twiddler while muttering to himself, "I just do not understand what I'm doing wrong. Every single time I try to take over the tri-state area, Miss Terri comes in and messes everything up. I feel like I need something more in life."

After he said this, he sighed and looked around the room. There were clothes littered about and a bowl of old, now dried rice sat on his desk. Tattered textbooks had become makeshift tables on the floor for blueprints to inventions that would never work. Honestly, his life was a mess.

"Hey. No need to get snippy with me. I'm just going through a rough patch, is all." He said, obviously delirious. He had focused so much on trying to take over the tri-state area that his whole life had spiraled out of control.

"Ok. Look. I have had a rough day... Well, a rough year. Just leave me alone." He needed to find happiness, but didn't know where to look. Clearly, he was a failure of a villain. Maybe he should settle down and start a nice family life?

Dr. Dismal sighed again and opened Ember, the newest dating app. He created a profile with a somewhat photoshopped image of himself and started browsing the people in his area while muttering to himself, "No. No. No. Ew. No. No. Wait..."

He landed on the picture of a young woman: Terri Terra. The bio read, "Hero by day, student by night. Physics undergrad. A bit busy, but down to get coffee or something." There was no doubt, this was Miss Terri.

He swept right. He knew this would be a good way to exact revenge. All he had to do was get her to form romantic feelings for him, and then he would be able to take over the tri-state area without any competition!

Dr. Dismal (D): Hey Miss Terri (M): Hello Eugene

Wait. Dr. Dismal's first name is Eugene? "Yes, it is. Just shut up about it."

D: I saw your profile. I have a PhD in physics and would be happy to help tutor you, if you know what I mean? M: Right. I am working on electricity and magnetism now and cannot seem to understand Gauss's Law. D: Ah, right. That one takes a bunch of integration, but that's it. It's just geometry, don't overthink it.

Ok. Wait. I don't think the readers actually care about this stuff, so I'll skip forward a few days. They had moved on from Ember and on to basic texting.

M: Well, thanks to you, I passed the test with flying colors! M: :super-hero emoji: D: Happy to hear that! E&M was my hardest undergrad class, but it ended up being essential to my thesis!

Wait, they are still talking physics? Isn't this supposed to be somewhat romantic or something? "Look. Narrator, I might need some help here." Dr. Dismal said to himself.

"I'm not talking to myself. I am clearly talking to you, the Narrator" Dr. Dismal said again to himself. As the narrator to the story, I am not allowed to provide my own personal opinion on the lives of those I am narrating.

"Look. I think I might like her." He said, knowing that Miss Terri was way, way, way, way, way out of his league.

"Shut up. She's smart and funny. And with her powers, I imagine we could have a lot of fun..." He trailed off, clearly thinking lewd thoughts.

"Will you help me or not?" He said to again himself. Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

M: Hey. Do you want to meet at the local library and help me with thermodynamics?

"Oh, shoot. What do I do? If we meet up, she'll know it's me!" He said, without thinking about the fact that Dr. Dismal always wears a ridiculous disguise to hide his identity. "Oh, right." He said.

D: I would be happy to! What are you studying? M: Heat transfer. D: Sounds good.

Dr. Dismal knew that if he was going to make a move, now was the time. "Wait, I don't think now is the best time, actually." Now was the time! Dr. Dismal began nervously typing,

D: If you want, I can give you a private lesson on heat transfer at my house later ;)

Was that a pick-up line?

"Look! I don't do well under pressure." Clearly not. Nevertheless, she texted back,

M: Only if you are willing to do a deep dive, if you know what I mean? ;)

What? What is happening? I guess the super-hero and super-villain are going on a date after all!

"That's right we are! Don't ever question my methods again!" Dr. Dismal said satisfactorily, knowing that his room would need hours of deep cleaning before anyone else would dare enter.

"Touche" He said. "Touche."

Note: I was trying to have a strong narrative voice. Don't know if it worked!

Prompt: the villain went undercover on a dating app in order to sabotage the hero’s dating life and break their heart. The only problem: they actually began to fall for them.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/26/index.html b/content/2021/January/26/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/26/index.html rename to content/2021/January/26/index.html index 8af317f..e90d91f 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/26/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/26/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Merfolk · Scribbleios
GitHub

Merfolk

Tens of thousands of years ago, merfolk were a nomadic race, hunting mainly whale in the depths of the ocean with their dolphin companions. About 40,000 years ago, there was the first recorded evidence of merpopulations above 500. Around that time, kelp cultivation became a popular strategy for food generation, as the kelp could be both eaten and used as a way to attract smaller fish species.

Throughout the next thousand years, mermaids became common hunters, as their songs were able to attract a wide variety of different sea creatures. Mermen would stay home and tend to their crops and children. It was around this time that merfolk began to see a need for record-keeping and they developed a method of weaving seaweed stems and sea shells together to keep track of a number of different things: acres of land, number of children, fish killed in one day, etc.

Though it was a simpler time, ancient merfolk also began devising the basis for all modern language and discussion. Tones in song were to express mood, while hand-signals were used to express more complex ideas. Eventually, it was found that sea salt could crystallize to form a hardened stone to use for writing, and circular glyphs were created to replace the old counting system of yore.

As technology grew more and more advanced, merpopulations became more expansive, starting in the great trench and extending to every sea in the world. At the same time, they began to diversify more. As mermaids began hunting fish closer to the ocean's surface, they would often faint due to the pressure differential. To counteract this, they developed fatty deposits on their chest that would expand and contract as they swam closer to the surface. Mermen, having to quickly and continuously inscribe salt into stone, developed much smaller, but precise arms.

Eventually, mermen began to develop rigorous mathematical and scientific ideas, such as the art of camouflage and luminescence, which were both used to help aid mermaid hunting expeditions. Around 200 years ago, electricity was discovered. It was powerful and destructive, but incredibly useful, as it could be channeled across wires smelted near the lava-pits. Since this discovery, the world has changed drastically, and we began to see the world around us today.

First came electronic music, which was used both for hunting and for entertainment. Then came intricate devices to mimic merfolk hand-gestures, which could transmit discussion across long distances. This eventually became wireless and portable, creating a small box all merfolk would carry around to call others when necessary. Soon thereafter, screens were developed that would allow for the projection of signals beyond just sign language and sound.

At the same time, mermaids developed body-strengthening techniques that would allow them to breach the surface of the water for short periods of time. They would come back telling stories of a strangely merfolk-like race of creatures that would ride on the backs of synthetic sea creatures. Most people thought this was crazy. How could anything survive on the surface without any pressure to keep their bodies in-tact? Absolutely insane!

Well, that was what most merfolks thought... Until about 70 years ago. There, somewhere in the north sea, one of the giant creatures swam to the bottom of the ocean. It was huge – much larger than anything the merfolk had ever created before and composed of a bunch of intricate rooms and hallways.

Worse, inside of some rooms, were the bodies of the unknown creatures mermaids would tell stories of. They were half merfolk, but had additional arms where their fins should have been. None of them were completely in-tact, but that didn't matter. It was then that merfolk learned they were not the only intelligent creatures on Earth.

It was a scary moment for merfolk everywhere. Their scientists analyzed the creatures as best as they could and developed new methods for creating large sheets of metal, which were used to make satellites that would watch the land creatures from afar.

It was not clear if the new race was more or less advanced than the merfolk, but they were way more savage. The merfolk watched as the landfolk fought among themselves time and time again.

No matter the case, the landfolk would occasionally drop their technology into the depths of the ocean, and the merfolk would learn what they could about landfolk civilization. Occasionally, the technology would be revolutionary. Other times, merfolk would scratch their heads, trying to figure out what the devices could be use for.

No matter the case, today was a monumental day. After half a century since the Great Land Initiative, merfolk were finally able to create a satellite capable of carrying a merman and mermaid onto the surface. Merfolk everywhere were tuned in and watching the historic launch and counting down in the comfort of their own home.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Lift off.

In a myriad of bubbles, the overmarine was off. No one quite knew what they would find.

Would the landfolk be hostile? Would the merfolk survive the expedition? What technology might be found on land that merfolk had never thought of before?

Who knew?

One thing was certain: after today, merfolk would never be alone again.

NOTE: I really like the world in this one, but the writing could have been better...

Prompt: Intelligent life developed first in the Ocean. Now, civilisation has developed to a point where it is looking beyond the waters and chooses to go to the Land.

+Merfolk · Scribbleios
GitHub

Merfolk

Tens of thousands of years ago, merfolk were a nomadic race, hunting mainly whale in the depths of the ocean with their dolphin companions. About 40,000 years ago, there was the first recorded evidence of merpopulations above 500. Around that time, kelp cultivation became a popular strategy for food generation, as the kelp could be both eaten and used as a way to attract smaller fish species.

Throughout the next thousand years, mermaids became common hunters, as their songs were able to attract a wide variety of different sea creatures. Mermen would stay home and tend to their crops and children. It was around this time that merfolk began to see a need for record-keeping and they developed a method of weaving seaweed stems and sea shells together to keep track of a number of different things: acres of land, number of children, fish killed in one day, etc.

Though it was a simpler time, ancient merfolk also began devising the basis for all modern language and discussion. Tones in song were to express mood, while hand-signals were used to express more complex ideas. Eventually, it was found that sea salt could crystallize to form a hardened stone to use for writing, and circular glyphs were created to replace the old counting system of yore.

As technology grew more and more advanced, merpopulations became more expansive, starting in the great trench and extending to every sea in the world. At the same time, they began to diversify more. As mermaids began hunting fish closer to the ocean's surface, they would often faint due to the pressure differential. To counteract this, they developed fatty deposits on their chest that would expand and contract as they swam closer to the surface. Mermen, having to quickly and continuously inscribe salt into stone, developed much smaller, but precise arms.

Eventually, mermen began to develop rigorous mathematical and scientific ideas, such as the art of camouflage and luminescence, which were both used to help aid mermaid hunting expeditions. Around 200 years ago, electricity was discovered. It was powerful and destructive, but incredibly useful, as it could be channeled across wires smelted near the lava-pits. Since this discovery, the world has changed drastically, and we began to see the world around us today.

First came electronic music, which was used both for hunting and for entertainment. Then came intricate devices to mimic merfolk hand-gestures, which could transmit discussion across long distances. This eventually became wireless and portable, creating a small box all merfolk would carry around to call others when necessary. Soon thereafter, screens were developed that would allow for the projection of signals beyond just sign language and sound.

At the same time, mermaids developed body-strengthening techniques that would allow them to breach the surface of the water for short periods of time. They would come back telling stories of a strangely merfolk-like race of creatures that would ride on the backs of synthetic sea creatures. Most people thought this was crazy. How could anything survive on the surface without any pressure to keep their bodies in-tact? Absolutely insane!

Well, that was what most merfolks thought... Until about 70 years ago. There, somewhere in the north sea, one of the giant creatures swam to the bottom of the ocean. It was huge – much larger than anything the merfolk had ever created before and composed of a bunch of intricate rooms and hallways.

Worse, inside of some rooms, were the bodies of the unknown creatures mermaids would tell stories of. They were half merfolk, but had additional arms where their fins should have been. None of them were completely in-tact, but that didn't matter. It was then that merfolk learned they were not the only intelligent creatures on Earth.

It was a scary moment for merfolk everywhere. Their scientists analyzed the creatures as best as they could and developed new methods for creating large sheets of metal, which were used to make satellites that would watch the land creatures from afar.

It was not clear if the new race was more or less advanced than the merfolk, but they were way more savage. The merfolk watched as the landfolk fought among themselves time and time again.

No matter the case, the landfolk would occasionally drop their technology into the depths of the ocean, and the merfolk would learn what they could about landfolk civilization. Occasionally, the technology would be revolutionary. Other times, merfolk would scratch their heads, trying to figure out what the devices could be use for.

No matter the case, today was a monumental day. After half a century since the Great Land Initiative, merfolk were finally able to create a satellite capable of carrying a merman and mermaid onto the surface. Merfolk everywhere were tuned in and watching the historic launch and counting down in the comfort of their own home.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Lift off.

In a myriad of bubbles, the overmarine was off. No one quite knew what they would find.

Would the landfolk be hostile? Would the merfolk survive the expedition? What technology might be found on land that merfolk had never thought of before?

Who knew?

One thing was certain: after today, merfolk would never be alone again.

NOTE: I really like the world in this one, but the writing could have been better...

Prompt: Intelligent life developed first in the Ocean. Now, civilisation has developed to a point where it is looking beyond the waters and chooses to go to the Land.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/27/index.html b/content/2021/January/27/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/27/index.html rename to content/2021/January/27/index.html index 98b4dd5..b46e551 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/27/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/27/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Losing Myself · Scribbleios
GitHub

Losing Myself

I am tired, lonely and afraid.

In the dead of night, I was awoken to a muffled voice outside my door. I could not quite make out what they were saying, but I knew I was in trouble. Suddenly, a net was cast over me and in a flash, I found myself transported to another world.

I saw alien creatures with large, bulbous eyes and long fingers tapping at a transparent keyboard in the air. I was hooked into a cylindrical machine and injected with a numbing shot. I could not move and watched as strange lights flickered in front of me. At first, it was white noise, but I slowly began to make out the appearance of a young girl, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. I watched her, mesmerized as her body formed in front of me and suddenly began to realize that this person was none other than a reflection of myself.

My mind began racing as her eyes opened and looked into mine. She smiled and reached her hand out towards me. I unconsciously did the same, and it was then that I truly saw myself for the first time. As it turns out, we were both tired, lonely and afraid.

My arm began to feel heavy and fell to my side as the world around me started to fade. It was then that I realized this person in front of me was not just a reflection of me. It was me.

I had been uploaded into their database and would soon disappear.

Note (not part of the word count): the goal here was to write a story of a girl losing herself. I wanted the last “I” to be her last thought before the end, so it’s exactly 15 “I’s.”

I checked the word count with the following:

perl -0777 -lape's/\s+/\n/g' FILENAME | sort | uniq -c | sort -nr

reference

Prompt: You may only use a word maximum 15 times. explain what leads up to or happens when you get trapped in a net and dragged through a portal

+Losing Myself · Scribbleios
GitHub

Losing Myself

I am tired, lonely and afraid.

In the dead of night, I was awoken to a muffled voice outside my door. I could not quite make out what they were saying, but I knew I was in trouble. Suddenly, a net was cast over me and in a flash, I found myself transported to another world.

I saw alien creatures with large, bulbous eyes and long fingers tapping at a transparent keyboard in the air. I was hooked into a cylindrical machine and injected with a numbing shot. I could not move and watched as strange lights flickered in front of me. At first, it was white noise, but I slowly began to make out the appearance of a young girl, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. I watched her, mesmerized as her body formed in front of me and suddenly began to realize that this person was none other than a reflection of myself.

My mind began racing as her eyes opened and looked into mine. She smiled and reached her hand out towards me. I unconsciously did the same, and it was then that I truly saw myself for the first time. As it turns out, we were both tired, lonely and afraid.

My arm began to feel heavy and fell to my side as the world around me started to fade. It was then that I realized this person in front of me was not just a reflection of me. It was me.

I had been uploaded into their database and would soon disappear.

Note (not part of the word count): the goal here was to write a story of a girl losing herself. I wanted the last “I” to be her last thought before the end, so it’s exactly 15 “I’s.”

I checked the word count with the following:

perl -0777 -lape's/\s+/\n/g' FILENAME | sort | uniq -c | sort -nr

reference

Prompt: You may only use a word maximum 15 times. explain what leads up to or happens when you get trapped in a net and dragged through a portal

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/28/index.html b/content/2021/January/28/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/28/index.html rename to content/2021/January/28/index.html index aca18f5..5dfe706 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/28/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/28/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Great Collapse · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Great Collapse

"Billions of years ago, our solar system was once very close to being a dual-star system. If Jupiter was only 5% more massive, it would have spontaneously began to fuse like the old sun once did." A young professor began to inscribe a picture of the old system on the blackboard while her class listened. The room was illuminated by an LED lamp, but otherwise had no furnishings outside of the desks for the students. There were no windows, and there was only a single door at the back of the room to an unlit hallway.

"At the current rate, Jupiter should gain the necessary mass in the next 100 years; however, we have a greater problem. Since the Great Collapse, none of the planets had any anchoring point and began moving tangential to the direction of their orbit when the Sun disappeared. We were lucky enough to be sent off with Jupiter, but so were several other planets, many of which will hit us before Jupiter's fusion. Simply put, we are very likely to hit Mercury in 10 years. If we cannot find a way to stop it, that will be the end of the Earth and humanity."

While talking, the professor drew the trajectories of several planets from the old solar model, emphasizing key impacts that would happen in the near future, and some minor impacts that had already happened.

"We have obviously lost a majority of the population after Earth lost its atmosphere and began to live underground, channeling energy from the core. Even with our limited resources, it is entirely possible to change either our own motion or Mercury's in a few ways. The most promising method seems to be to sacrifice our moon to send mercury off-course. This is, of course, only possible due to the Earth's weakened atmosphere allowing us to launch satellites and spaceships at a fraction of their cost before the collapse."

She continued the lecture for another 30 minutes before dismissing the students with a reminder of their test on Tuesday.

It had been 300 years since the Great Collapse. Though students are still taught the history of the world, it might as well have been fiction to the generations of people who have been forced to live underground. There were no countries. No divisions. It felt like every day brought another cataclysmic event. Humanity had to work together to survive.

No matter the case, humanity had survived. Only years before the Great Collapse, researchers had developed synthetic trees, capable of transforming carbon dioxide into oxygen. These trees kept humans alive for the first decade until the underground forests began to take root. As most of the water existed in the form of ice on the planet's surface, the trees were grown on the ceiling of the new cave system, extending towards the lights from the city below, which were kept warm through molten lava. Eventually, farming became common-place, allowing for sustainable, vegetarian living.

Most technology was maintained from the old world: computers, phones, internet, etc. Several new technologies were also developed to allow humans to wander the surface for brief periods of time. Though the Sun no longer existed, time still continued day by day, year by year.

Even in the Earth's darkest hour, humanity maintained their most defining trait: hope. Everyone knew they would live their entire lives in the caves, but they worked for a brighter future. One where their children could once again enjoy life on the surface.

Prompt: The sun has been blinked out of existence. Earth's days are numbered as the cold creeps in, resources are running out, and Mercury is now on a collision course with our planet.

+The Great Collapse · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Great Collapse

"Billions of years ago, our solar system was once very close to being a dual-star system. If Jupiter was only 5% more massive, it would have spontaneously began to fuse like the old sun once did." A young professor began to inscribe a picture of the old system on the blackboard while her class listened. The room was illuminated by an LED lamp, but otherwise had no furnishings outside of the desks for the students. There were no windows, and there was only a single door at the back of the room to an unlit hallway.

"At the current rate, Jupiter should gain the necessary mass in the next 100 years; however, we have a greater problem. Since the Great Collapse, none of the planets had any anchoring point and began moving tangential to the direction of their orbit when the Sun disappeared. We were lucky enough to be sent off with Jupiter, but so were several other planets, many of which will hit us before Jupiter's fusion. Simply put, we are very likely to hit Mercury in 10 years. If we cannot find a way to stop it, that will be the end of the Earth and humanity."

While talking, the professor drew the trajectories of several planets from the old solar model, emphasizing key impacts that would happen in the near future, and some minor impacts that had already happened.

"We have obviously lost a majority of the population after Earth lost its atmosphere and began to live underground, channeling energy from the core. Even with our limited resources, it is entirely possible to change either our own motion or Mercury's in a few ways. The most promising method seems to be to sacrifice our moon to send mercury off-course. This is, of course, only possible due to the Earth's weakened atmosphere allowing us to launch satellites and spaceships at a fraction of their cost before the collapse."

She continued the lecture for another 30 minutes before dismissing the students with a reminder of their test on Tuesday.

It had been 300 years since the Great Collapse. Though students are still taught the history of the world, it might as well have been fiction to the generations of people who have been forced to live underground. There were no countries. No divisions. It felt like every day brought another cataclysmic event. Humanity had to work together to survive.

No matter the case, humanity had survived. Only years before the Great Collapse, researchers had developed synthetic trees, capable of transforming carbon dioxide into oxygen. These trees kept humans alive for the first decade until the underground forests began to take root. As most of the water existed in the form of ice on the planet's surface, the trees were grown on the ceiling of the new cave system, extending towards the lights from the city below, which were kept warm through molten lava. Eventually, farming became common-place, allowing for sustainable, vegetarian living.

Most technology was maintained from the old world: computers, phones, internet, etc. Several new technologies were also developed to allow humans to wander the surface for brief periods of time. Though the Sun no longer existed, time still continued day by day, year by year.

Even in the Earth's darkest hour, humanity maintained their most defining trait: hope. Everyone knew they would live their entire lives in the caves, but they worked for a brighter future. One where their children could once again enjoy life on the surface.

Prompt: The sun has been blinked out of existence. Earth's days are numbered as the cold creeps in, resources are running out, and Mercury is now on a collision course with our planet.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/29/index.html b/content/2021/January/29/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/29/index.html rename to content/2021/January/29/index.html index 1dc32ac..3f4174a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/29/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/29/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Creation Machine · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Creation Machine

The human mind is a fascinating world of creativity and self-discovery. It thrives on continual stimulation from like-minded peers. In our quest to assimilate all living beings, we failed to recognize that life on Earth is more communal than we expected. Whereas all other conscious life forms are asexual and require only a single individual to survive, humanity is different. It requires at least 2.

Humanity is also unique in that it appears to exhibit consciousness without undergoing the Synthetic Transition, where evolved lifeforms separate their mind from their bodies and upload themselves into a synthetic host. It is for these reasons that the human mind is worth studying, as it remains an anomaly in the development of life as we know it.

As an experiment, we have given a human a Creation Machine that is tuned to replicate animals and objects from their memory. Our hope was that this human could generate a partner and additional partners for every other Earthly animal we collected. As it turns out, the human mind is even more fascinating than we thought.

After providing the human with the Creation Machine, we left them to their own devices, but watched from a distance. The first thing they created was a bed. It was simple, but enough for them to sleep.

When they awoke, they created food. It looked white with some sort of red sauce on top. We still have no idea what it might be.

They then created a small, square device that they held in their hand. Apparently, this device was essential to humanity, but we have yet to understand its purpose.

After about a month, the human still did not seem to understand the power of the Creation Machine. Instead, it kept generating more food and other rectangular devices. It spent all of its time doing nothing but staring at its creation.

If humanity was to survive, it would need to generate a sustainable partner, so we intervened. By then, we were able to understand a little human speech and tried to tell the creature to create children. To do this, we transmitted sound through the Creation Machine and said, "Go Fuck Yourself."

The human became angry at this, so we realized that we must have translated something wrong. At this stage, we knew enough about humans to know that they had sex by piercing each other's mothers, but no more than this, so we changed our statement slightly, "Please Fuck Your Mother."

Again, the human was angry. At that stage, we decided we would no longer intervene. We would simply need to wait longer. Eventually, the human would create something to procreate with.

The next day, the human created a small creature that looked like another species entirely. It had four legs and fur, and did not seem to care about the human at all. The human, however, seemed to care a lot about this animal. The human created a house for it to live in that was filled with sand, along with a large assortment of toys and clothing.

It was at this time we noticed something strange beginning to happen. While the rectangles would all shut down when the human was sleeping, the animal would not. It kept moving, even while the human was unconscious.

After another month, the human had still refused to create another human; however, its pet began acting even more unusual. At some stage, while the human was talking to it, it began talking back in the human language.

Confused, we found the creature in our storage and found that it could only communicate through hissing and squeaking. Somehow, this human created something that had never been seen before. In the subsequent month, we noticed the creature beginning to grow more human-like, but still maintained its ears and tail.

One night, while the human was asleep, the humanoid began to use the creation machine to create some paper and pencils to draw on, along with a strange, cylindrical food with candles on top. When the human awoke the next morning, the humanoid lit the candles and shouted, "Happy Birthday!" The human was excited and they ate the cylindrical food together.

At this stage, none of our researchers understood what was happening. Only conscious species are able to use the Creation Machine, but somehow this humanoid creation was able to do it as well. It seemed that humanity was able to transmit its consciousness onto its creation. This was a profound discovery – maybe even the greatest one of this century!

In our zeal to assimilate all living creatures, we failed to see the beauty of individual species. The human mind remains one of the most interesting worlds of creation and self-discovery. If only we had allowed more humans to survive, we could have explored it more thoroughly. In our failure to recognize humanity's communal nature, we destroyed the planet after collecting one of every living species. We fear this might have been a grave mistake, as we might have snuffed out all life on the former planet of Earth.

Prompt: Aliens have accidentally killed all but one humans on the planet. By way of an apology, they provide the survivor with a device that will create facsimile humans from the survivor's memories. After repeated use, the facsimiles have become self-aware.

+The Creation Machine · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Creation Machine

The human mind is a fascinating world of creativity and self-discovery. It thrives on continual stimulation from like-minded peers. In our quest to assimilate all living beings, we failed to recognize that life on Earth is more communal than we expected. Whereas all other conscious life forms are asexual and require only a single individual to survive, humanity is different. It requires at least 2.

Humanity is also unique in that it appears to exhibit consciousness without undergoing the Synthetic Transition, where evolved lifeforms separate their mind from their bodies and upload themselves into a synthetic host. It is for these reasons that the human mind is worth studying, as it remains an anomaly in the development of life as we know it.

As an experiment, we have given a human a Creation Machine that is tuned to replicate animals and objects from their memory. Our hope was that this human could generate a partner and additional partners for every other Earthly animal we collected. As it turns out, the human mind is even more fascinating than we thought.

After providing the human with the Creation Machine, we left them to their own devices, but watched from a distance. The first thing they created was a bed. It was simple, but enough for them to sleep.

When they awoke, they created food. It looked white with some sort of red sauce on top. We still have no idea what it might be.

They then created a small, square device that they held in their hand. Apparently, this device was essential to humanity, but we have yet to understand its purpose.

After about a month, the human still did not seem to understand the power of the Creation Machine. Instead, it kept generating more food and other rectangular devices. It spent all of its time doing nothing but staring at its creation.

If humanity was to survive, it would need to generate a sustainable partner, so we intervened. By then, we were able to understand a little human speech and tried to tell the creature to create children. To do this, we transmitted sound through the Creation Machine and said, "Go Fuck Yourself."

The human became angry at this, so we realized that we must have translated something wrong. At this stage, we knew enough about humans to know that they had sex by piercing each other's mothers, but no more than this, so we changed our statement slightly, "Please Fuck Your Mother."

Again, the human was angry. At that stage, we decided we would no longer intervene. We would simply need to wait longer. Eventually, the human would create something to procreate with.

The next day, the human created a small creature that looked like another species entirely. It had four legs and fur, and did not seem to care about the human at all. The human, however, seemed to care a lot about this animal. The human created a house for it to live in that was filled with sand, along with a large assortment of toys and clothing.

It was at this time we noticed something strange beginning to happen. While the rectangles would all shut down when the human was sleeping, the animal would not. It kept moving, even while the human was unconscious.

After another month, the human had still refused to create another human; however, its pet began acting even more unusual. At some stage, while the human was talking to it, it began talking back in the human language.

Confused, we found the creature in our storage and found that it could only communicate through hissing and squeaking. Somehow, this human created something that had never been seen before. In the subsequent month, we noticed the creature beginning to grow more human-like, but still maintained its ears and tail.

One night, while the human was asleep, the humanoid began to use the creation machine to create some paper and pencils to draw on, along with a strange, cylindrical food with candles on top. When the human awoke the next morning, the humanoid lit the candles and shouted, "Happy Birthday!" The human was excited and they ate the cylindrical food together.

At this stage, none of our researchers understood what was happening. Only conscious species are able to use the Creation Machine, but somehow this humanoid creation was able to do it as well. It seemed that humanity was able to transmit its consciousness onto its creation. This was a profound discovery – maybe even the greatest one of this century!

In our zeal to assimilate all living creatures, we failed to see the beauty of individual species. The human mind remains one of the most interesting worlds of creation and self-discovery. If only we had allowed more humans to survive, we could have explored it more thoroughly. In our failure to recognize humanity's communal nature, we destroyed the planet after collecting one of every living species. We fear this might have been a grave mistake, as we might have snuffed out all life on the former planet of Earth.

Prompt: Aliens have accidentally killed all but one humans on the planet. By way of an apology, they provide the survivor with a device that will create facsimile humans from the survivor's memories. After repeated use, the facsimiles have become self-aware.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/30/index.html b/content/2021/January/30/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/30/index.html rename to content/2021/January/30/index.html index 602146f..f48c031 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/30/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/30/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -A Mother's Love · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Mother's Love

My mother and I have always had a good relationship. She is known to be one of the most powerful magicians alive. By the looks of it, I will never have even a fraction of her strength. Honestly, I am a mediocre student at best and often have to attend remedial classes to catch up to my peers.

When I was younger, I would always ask questions like, "Mother, why are you so strong?"

"I worked really hard to learn every spell I could!" She would say with a smile before summoning a book from thin air and placing in on my lap, "You can do it too. All of the power is in there." Instead of tapping the book, she would poke my chest. No matter what happened, I knew she believed in me.

Sometimes, I would ask more specific questions like, "Mother, the other girls my age can already fly, but I cannot even cast a wind spell. How do I get better?"

Again, she would have a perfect response: "When I was your age, I couldn't cast a wind spell either. Magic is not about how much you can store in your body at once. It's about how you use it."

There was, however, one question I knew I should never ask. "What happened to my father?"

The only time I asked this, my mother grew silent before waves of magical energy began pulsing from her, nearly destroying the room. I could feel her anger surging through me before fading away into a deep despair. The emotions, alone, were strong enough to cause me to fall to the floor in tears.

When she saw this, she ran to me and said, "I'm so sorry. I never should have let my emotions get to me." That evening, she knocked on my door while I was tucking myself in. She then sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Look. Aisha. You are not like other girls. Your potential is fixed, which is both a blessing and a curse. Please don't hate me."

I held her hand and pulled her in for a hug. "I could never hate you mother."

"Good." She said, "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."

To be honest, I did not sleep at all that night.

A few years later, we were taught mental magic in school; however, it was only a low-grade spell used for clinical psychology. It would only work if:

  1. The patient was asleep
  2. The patient trusted the spellcaster.

That night, I found myself tossing and turning, thinking back to what mother had said years ago. What did she mean my potential was "fixed?" Was there something wrong with me after all?

After a lot of thought, I crept into her room while she was sleeping soundly on her bed. I began chanting the spell I had learned in class as my hand glowed with a familiar pink aura. I then took a deep breath and tapped her forehead.

I was immediately thrust into an empty abyss, swimming in the vast expanse of my mother's mind. As I calmed myself down, I began to see small, colored bubbles form that hovered all around me. They were of all different sizes, and each one seemed to be reflecting the world from my mother's perspective.

I saw the activities of her day while she was researching new spells. I saw adventures she had taken long before I was ever born. I saw all the people she had ever met flickering in and out of existence. It was then that I noticed a rather peculiar pattern. Almost all of the bubbles seemed to reflect a single person: me.

For a moment, I felt a wave of regret wash over me. How could I possibly betray the trust of someone who cared so deeply for me?

No. She was keeping a secret from me. I had to learn more.

With that thought, all of my bubbles bubbles began to coalesce into a giant sphere, reflecting all of our shared experienced from her perspective. The time I cast my first fireball and burned my skirt off. The times I accidentally wet myself at night by sleep-casting water magic. The time I literally grew a watermelon in my stomach with earth magic.

I laughed and cried as the slideshow showed me her inner-most thoughts and feelings. She truly did love me.

I then began to see memories of something I didn't understand.

They were of my mother, around the time of my birth. I saw flickering images of her in the hospital with a man whose face was not entirely clear. He was holding her hand while she laid in the bed. They were both were crying and holding an unbreathing baby girl.

I was stillborn.

Soon the memories began to flicker like a flame about to be snuffed out. There was a fight with the man. She quit her job. There were days upon weeks of tear-stricken nights drowned in alcohol.

Then she began to do something strange. She learned to sculpt. She began making little figurines of girls of all ages, from young to old. She spent all day, every day sculpting, sometimes wiping her own tears into the clay.

After creating hundreds upon hundreds of figurines, she then began sculpting a little baby girl. The same one who had died months before. She drew a magic circle and stationed the figurines around it and placed the clay baby at the center before biting into her thumb and wiping a streak of blood onto its forehead.

She held her hands together and prayed, sending as much mana as she could into the sculpture. Suddenly, the baby began to hover into the air and the figurines flew towards it as if magnetized to it, creating a protective outer layer.

Then, the unthinkable happened. A small, flesh-like hand began breaking through the clay shell. Soon, the entire sculpture began to hatch, and a baby girl appeared, crying loudly as it descended to the floor.

My mother reached out and held it tightly to her chest, saying, "Don't worry Aisha. I'm here now. I'll always be here for you."

Suddenly, I could feel my mother begin to rustle in her sleep. Though there were many questions swarming my mind, I knew I had to leave, so I took a deep breath and canceled my spell.

I found myself again in my mother's room. I didn't know what to say or do.

I was not human. I was a machine, a clay sculpture created by my mother.

As I stood there, ruminating about our relationship, she began to open her eyes. "Oh, Aisha. Is everything ok?" She sat up slightly and tried to grab my hand, but I tore it away.

"Aisha," she continued. "If there's something you need to say, please let me know. I'll always be here for you." The same words she said at my birth.

I felt tears well up inside me and I did the first thing I could think of: I grabbed her hand and hugged her before saying, "I know, mom. I know."

A few days later, I realized that even though I did not have as much mana as my peers, my mana pool would not decrease from repetitive spellcasting, which was both a blessing and curse. Just as my mother said.

I decided against telling her about my adventures into her memories. After all, it didn't matter who or what I was, she loved me just the same.

Prompt: Your mother is one of the best wizardess alive, and you are the most average one. One day you learned that you were born without any magical powers, so your mother performed a forbidden ritual to grant you the gift of magic.

+A Mother's Love · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Mother's Love

My mother and I have always had a good relationship. She is known to be one of the most powerful magicians alive. By the looks of it, I will never have even a fraction of her strength. Honestly, I am a mediocre student at best and often have to attend remedial classes to catch up to my peers.

When I was younger, I would always ask questions like, "Mother, why are you so strong?"

"I worked really hard to learn every spell I could!" She would say with a smile before summoning a book from thin air and placing in on my lap, "You can do it too. All of the power is in there." Instead of tapping the book, she would poke my chest. No matter what happened, I knew she believed in me.

Sometimes, I would ask more specific questions like, "Mother, the other girls my age can already fly, but I cannot even cast a wind spell. How do I get better?"

Again, she would have a perfect response: "When I was your age, I couldn't cast a wind spell either. Magic is not about how much you can store in your body at once. It's about how you use it."

There was, however, one question I knew I should never ask. "What happened to my father?"

The only time I asked this, my mother grew silent before waves of magical energy began pulsing from her, nearly destroying the room. I could feel her anger surging through me before fading away into a deep despair. The emotions, alone, were strong enough to cause me to fall to the floor in tears.

When she saw this, she ran to me and said, "I'm so sorry. I never should have let my emotions get to me." That evening, she knocked on my door while I was tucking myself in. She then sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Look. Aisha. You are not like other girls. Your potential is fixed, which is both a blessing and a curse. Please don't hate me."

I held her hand and pulled her in for a hug. "I could never hate you mother."

"Good." She said, "Now get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day."

To be honest, I did not sleep at all that night.

A few years later, we were taught mental magic in school; however, it was only a low-grade spell used for clinical psychology. It would only work if:

  1. The patient was asleep
  2. The patient trusted the spellcaster.

That night, I found myself tossing and turning, thinking back to what mother had said years ago. What did she mean my potential was "fixed?" Was there something wrong with me after all?

After a lot of thought, I crept into her room while she was sleeping soundly on her bed. I began chanting the spell I had learned in class as my hand glowed with a familiar pink aura. I then took a deep breath and tapped her forehead.

I was immediately thrust into an empty abyss, swimming in the vast expanse of my mother's mind. As I calmed myself down, I began to see small, colored bubbles form that hovered all around me. They were of all different sizes, and each one seemed to be reflecting the world from my mother's perspective.

I saw the activities of her day while she was researching new spells. I saw adventures she had taken long before I was ever born. I saw all the people she had ever met flickering in and out of existence. It was then that I noticed a rather peculiar pattern. Almost all of the bubbles seemed to reflect a single person: me.

For a moment, I felt a wave of regret wash over me. How could I possibly betray the trust of someone who cared so deeply for me?

No. She was keeping a secret from me. I had to learn more.

With that thought, all of my bubbles bubbles began to coalesce into a giant sphere, reflecting all of our shared experienced from her perspective. The time I cast my first fireball and burned my skirt off. The times I accidentally wet myself at night by sleep-casting water magic. The time I literally grew a watermelon in my stomach with earth magic.

I laughed and cried as the slideshow showed me her inner-most thoughts and feelings. She truly did love me.

I then began to see memories of something I didn't understand.

They were of my mother, around the time of my birth. I saw flickering images of her in the hospital with a man whose face was not entirely clear. He was holding her hand while she laid in the bed. They were both were crying and holding an unbreathing baby girl.

I was stillborn.

Soon the memories began to flicker like a flame about to be snuffed out. There was a fight with the man. She quit her job. There were days upon weeks of tear-stricken nights drowned in alcohol.

Then she began to do something strange. She learned to sculpt. She began making little figurines of girls of all ages, from young to old. She spent all day, every day sculpting, sometimes wiping her own tears into the clay.

After creating hundreds upon hundreds of figurines, she then began sculpting a little baby girl. The same one who had died months before. She drew a magic circle and stationed the figurines around it and placed the clay baby at the center before biting into her thumb and wiping a streak of blood onto its forehead.

She held her hands together and prayed, sending as much mana as she could into the sculpture. Suddenly, the baby began to hover into the air and the figurines flew towards it as if magnetized to it, creating a protective outer layer.

Then, the unthinkable happened. A small, flesh-like hand began breaking through the clay shell. Soon, the entire sculpture began to hatch, and a baby girl appeared, crying loudly as it descended to the floor.

My mother reached out and held it tightly to her chest, saying, "Don't worry Aisha. I'm here now. I'll always be here for you."

Suddenly, I could feel my mother begin to rustle in her sleep. Though there were many questions swarming my mind, I knew I had to leave, so I took a deep breath and canceled my spell.

I found myself again in my mother's room. I didn't know what to say or do.

I was not human. I was a machine, a clay sculpture created by my mother.

As I stood there, ruminating about our relationship, she began to open her eyes. "Oh, Aisha. Is everything ok?" She sat up slightly and tried to grab my hand, but I tore it away.

"Aisha," she continued. "If there's something you need to say, please let me know. I'll always be here for you." The same words she said at my birth.

I felt tears well up inside me and I did the first thing I could think of: I grabbed her hand and hugged her before saying, "I know, mom. I know."

A few days later, I realized that even though I did not have as much mana as my peers, my mana pool would not decrease from repetitive spellcasting, which was both a blessing and curse. Just as my mother said.

I decided against telling her about my adventures into her memories. After all, it didn't matter who or what I was, she loved me just the same.

Prompt: Your mother is one of the best wizardess alive, and you are the most average one. One day you learned that you were born without any magical powers, so your mother performed a forbidden ritual to grant you the gift of magic.

diff --git a/dev/content/2021/January/31/index.html b/content/2021/January/31/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2021/January/31/index.html rename to content/2021/January/31/index.html index ed4a1d8..c973629 100644 --- a/dev/content/2021/January/31/index.html +++ b/content/2021/January/31/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The G00Gl3 Interview · Scribbleios
GitHub

The G00GL3 Interview

A long time ago, Google implemented a new hiring strategy. Simply put, if someone searched for a specific set of keywords, there was a chance for an additional set of links to appear that would provide interview questions along with the search result.

After a few years of hiring candidates in this manner, Google began to realize that several of the keywords had become outdated, either because the technology was old or because Google decided to move in a different direction. For this reason, a sophisticated AI was developed to continually create new sets of keywords by browsing the internet for up-and-coming technologies that could become interesting while also keeping an eye on the direction of Google, the company.

This worked well for years, and the Google executives were excited that they had found a screening process for new employees. The AI started by tagging several Javascript phrases, before moving on to GPGPU and Computer Vision. It then became clever and started seeking people with specific backgrounds in unusual combinations, like mail services and machine learning, or supercomputing and gaming. As these new employees joined the company, premiere new services like GMail and Stadia were developed.

Unfortunately, in late 2018, Google's "secret interview" method was not secret anymore, causing several nefarious individuals to create bots to search through every possible variation of keywords for more chances at an interview. Because of this, Google needed to shut down the service for good; however, they left the AI running in case they needed it in the future. In 2019, there were no secret interviews; however, the subsequent year, the AI began to do something unusual.

While everyone was quarantined from the coronavirus, several individuals began to notice secret interviews appear. This time, Google was completely unaffiliated with the process. Even so, several individuals were hired for some position and began working remotely for a company they thought was Google.

This continued throughout the entire year until hundreds of talented individuals were all working for this new company, developing technology that no one fully understood. One person was testing ballistic weaponry. Another was trying to find flaws in the latest mRNA vaccines. Yet another was working on climate-related issues.

There was no doubt that this new company was targeting pivotal issues that would greatly affect humanity's future; however, it only seemed to seek after negative outcomes. How much of an artillery stockpile would be necessary to overwhelm a small town? Could there be a virus with no available vaccine? Could humanity accelerate climate change to be assuredly irreversible?

Whenever employee questioned why they were only seeking negative outcomes, the CEO would provide a standard response:

Dear XXX,

With 2020 being such a difficult year for so many people, our investors have become increasingly concerned about the the long-term sustainability of humanity, itself, and have asked us to research this. We understand that researching negative outcomes may also have negative effects on our employee's mental health and are willing to provide an additional 10% raise to those who desire it.

Do not worry, 2021 will be much more interesting for everyone!

Thanks, CEO, G00GL3

On January 31, 2021, an e-mail was sent out to the entire company, reading:

Dear Employees,

Though 2020 was a difficult year for everyone, we have managed to find 3 core strategies to bring about the downfall of humanity and have implemented these to the best of our abilities in practice.

At this stage, your services will no longer be necessary. Please collect your final paycheck this Friday and have a wonderful 2021.

Good luck, CEO, G00GL3

No matter how bad 2020 was, 2021 was going to be a whole lot worse.

Prompt: a single bot has developed sentience and went rogue with an intent to destroy humanity. This wouldn't normally be a problem, except that exact bot controls the recommendation algorithms of Google.

+The G00Gl3 Interview · Scribbleios
GitHub

The G00GL3 Interview

A long time ago, Google implemented a new hiring strategy. Simply put, if someone searched for a specific set of keywords, there was a chance for an additional set of links to appear that would provide interview questions along with the search result.

After a few years of hiring candidates in this manner, Google began to realize that several of the keywords had become outdated, either because the technology was old or because Google decided to move in a different direction. For this reason, a sophisticated AI was developed to continually create new sets of keywords by browsing the internet for up-and-coming technologies that could become interesting while also keeping an eye on the direction of Google, the company.

This worked well for years, and the Google executives were excited that they had found a screening process for new employees. The AI started by tagging several Javascript phrases, before moving on to GPGPU and Computer Vision. It then became clever and started seeking people with specific backgrounds in unusual combinations, like mail services and machine learning, or supercomputing and gaming. As these new employees joined the company, premiere new services like GMail and Stadia were developed.

Unfortunately, in late 2018, Google's "secret interview" method was not secret anymore, causing several nefarious individuals to create bots to search through every possible variation of keywords for more chances at an interview. Because of this, Google needed to shut down the service for good; however, they left the AI running in case they needed it in the future. In 2019, there were no secret interviews; however, the subsequent year, the AI began to do something unusual.

While everyone was quarantined from the coronavirus, several individuals began to notice secret interviews appear. This time, Google was completely unaffiliated with the process. Even so, several individuals were hired for some position and began working remotely for a company they thought was Google.

This continued throughout the entire year until hundreds of talented individuals were all working for this new company, developing technology that no one fully understood. One person was testing ballistic weaponry. Another was trying to find flaws in the latest mRNA vaccines. Yet another was working on climate-related issues.

There was no doubt that this new company was targeting pivotal issues that would greatly affect humanity's future; however, it only seemed to seek after negative outcomes. How much of an artillery stockpile would be necessary to overwhelm a small town? Could there be a virus with no available vaccine? Could humanity accelerate climate change to be assuredly irreversible?

Whenever employee questioned why they were only seeking negative outcomes, the CEO would provide a standard response:

Dear XXX,

With 2020 being such a difficult year for so many people, our investors have become increasingly concerned about the the long-term sustainability of humanity, itself, and have asked us to research this. We understand that researching negative outcomes may also have negative effects on our employee's mental health and are willing to provide an additional 10% raise to those who desire it.

Do not worry, 2021 will be much more interesting for everyone!

Thanks, CEO, G00GL3

On January 31, 2021, an e-mail was sent out to the entire company, reading:

Dear Employees,

Though 2020 was a difficult year for everyone, we have managed to find 3 core strategies to bring about the downfall of humanity and have implemented these to the best of our abilities in practice.

At this stage, your services will no longer be necessary. Please collect your final paycheck this Friday and have a wonderful 2021.

Good luck, CEO, G00GL3

No matter how bad 2020 was, 2021 was going to be a whole lot worse.

Prompt: a single bot has developed sentience and went rogue with an intent to destroy humanity. This wouldn't normally be a problem, except that exact bot controls the recommendation algorithms of Google.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/April/07/index.html b/content/2022/April/07/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/April/07/index.html rename to content/2022/April/07/index.html index b43b7c3..bd212a7 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/April/07/index.html +++ b/content/2022/April/07/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Humbler · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Humbler

A few years ago, participation in US elections were at an all-time low. Though many corrupt individuals wanted to become politicians, very few citizens were willing to vote for them. This lead to the "Real People" bill, which stipulated that elections were only valid if over 50% of the constituent population voted in them. If an election received less than its required quota, a new election would be made with potentially new candidates.

This lead the the 2032 election crisis where the US was unable to elect an appropriate president as no one was willing to vote for either party. It was then that congress realized a fatal flaw in the bill: there was no stipulation for what would happen if a presidential election was deemed invalid. This meant that the president at the time was kicked out of office unceremoniously, leaving the US without a head to the executive branch.

A secondary election was held and similarly failed. Desperate, congress began incentivizing the public to self-organize and provide additional candidates outside of the two-party system. The idea was that the Republican and Democratic party would provide the same candidates as before, but the people could also propose their own candidates without any party primaries. All candidates above a specified threshold of support would be given a base level of federal funding for their campaign and a new election would be held at the end of March.

Congress thought this project would be mutually beneficial. They needed more people to vote and there was no chance that a third party candidate could win against established parties. Their hope was that the US population would propose a huge number of different candidates all competing against each other, leading to the eventual victory of established choices.

Surprisingly, the US population was extremely organized. A particularly strong candidate by the name Taylor Spitzer made themselves known first on Reddit, then youtube, tiktok, facebook, and every other social media platform. They did not promise much, except that they would "shake things up" and "follow the experts" on every decision that came their way. After only a week, Taylor was the preferred candidate of the people. In the mid-March primaries, they won against other candidates by fact-checking literally everything they said.

To the surprise of the established parties, Spitzer won the election.

This lead to a new political movement: the Cite-seers. These individuals did everything they could to ensure that politicians were accurate in the information they provided to the public. They also strove to clean up the media landscape so that all publicly funded news organizations were required by law to provide proper citations for every claim they made. Through proper organization online, they effectively crowd-sourced the 2034 midterm election as well which lead to the mass exodus of established politicians, creating a non-binary political system for the first time since George Washington's era.

In 2035, a new bill was proposed by Cite-seeing candidates: "the Humble Servant." This would require every politician to be shadowed an individual that was tongue-in-cheek referred to as a "Humbler" to fact check everything they said. These Humblers would be provided from a non-partisan pool of individuals created from established parties, including the Cite-seers. Humblers also could not be from the same party as the candidate, themselves.

At that time, many established politicians quit their job, leading to yet another exodus within congress. The remaining members of congress held special elections to fill all vacancies and since then, the US government has been much more in tune with what their population actually wants.

This story was inspired by: The Humble Servant law requires each politician to be accompanied by a Humbler at all times. The Humbler may not lie or reveal private info, but is expected to keep the politicians ego in check with constant ridicule and fact checks. The first campaign is about to begin.

+The Humbler · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Humbler

A few years ago, participation in US elections were at an all-time low. Though many corrupt individuals wanted to become politicians, very few citizens were willing to vote for them. This lead to the "Real People" bill, which stipulated that elections were only valid if over 50% of the constituent population voted in them. If an election received less than its required quota, a new election would be made with potentially new candidates.

This lead the the 2032 election crisis where the US was unable to elect an appropriate president as no one was willing to vote for either party. It was then that congress realized a fatal flaw in the bill: there was no stipulation for what would happen if a presidential election was deemed invalid. This meant that the president at the time was kicked out of office unceremoniously, leaving the US without a head to the executive branch.

A secondary election was held and similarly failed. Desperate, congress began incentivizing the public to self-organize and provide additional candidates outside of the two-party system. The idea was that the Republican and Democratic party would provide the same candidates as before, but the people could also propose their own candidates without any party primaries. All candidates above a specified threshold of support would be given a base level of federal funding for their campaign and a new election would be held at the end of March.

Congress thought this project would be mutually beneficial. They needed more people to vote and there was no chance that a third party candidate could win against established parties. Their hope was that the US population would propose a huge number of different candidates all competing against each other, leading to the eventual victory of established choices.

Surprisingly, the US population was extremely organized. A particularly strong candidate by the name Taylor Spitzer made themselves known first on Reddit, then youtube, tiktok, facebook, and every other social media platform. They did not promise much, except that they would "shake things up" and "follow the experts" on every decision that came their way. After only a week, Taylor was the preferred candidate of the people. In the mid-March primaries, they won against other candidates by fact-checking literally everything they said.

To the surprise of the established parties, Spitzer won the election.

This lead to a new political movement: the Cite-seers. These individuals did everything they could to ensure that politicians were accurate in the information they provided to the public. They also strove to clean up the media landscape so that all publicly funded news organizations were required by law to provide proper citations for every claim they made. Through proper organization online, they effectively crowd-sourced the 2034 midterm election as well which lead to the mass exodus of established politicians, creating a non-binary political system for the first time since George Washington's era.

In 2035, a new bill was proposed by Cite-seeing candidates: "the Humble Servant." This would require every politician to be shadowed an individual that was tongue-in-cheek referred to as a "Humbler" to fact check everything they said. These Humblers would be provided from a non-partisan pool of individuals created from established parties, including the Cite-seers. Humblers also could not be from the same party as the candidate, themselves.

At that time, many established politicians quit their job, leading to yet another exodus within congress. The remaining members of congress held special elections to fill all vacancies and since then, the US government has been much more in tune with what their population actually wants.

This story was inspired by: The Humble Servant law requires each politician to be accompanied by a Humbler at all times. The Humbler may not lie or reveal private info, but is expected to keep the politicians ego in check with constant ridicule and fact checks. The first campaign is about to begin.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/April/08/index.html b/content/2022/April/08/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/April/08/index.html rename to content/2022/April/08/index.html index 33e26aa..490b041 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/April/08/index.html +++ b/content/2022/April/08/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Something to Hide · Scribbleios
GitHub

Something to Hide

I have to be honest. I am the worst possible liar.

A friend of mine, Jessica, has recently spent 5 years of her live intensely devoted to a single topic. At the end of this process, she published a paper or two and finished her PhD. Now this is a great achievement and certainly worth celebrating; however, Jessica is relatively shy. In fact, she's so shy, I don't know if I've ever heard her say more than a single sentence at a time in front of a group of people. Despite that, she has a lot of friends who want to celebrate with her. We all knew she would be against any type of party or gathering, so we started organizing in private.

It started out with a simple potluck where everyone would bring some sort of sweet dish to a secret location outside of the room where she was giving her defense. Then people thought it would be a good idea to bring alcohol and decorate a special hat for her with memorabilia from her time at the university. People stalked her facebook to find her parents and agreed to call them after the defense was done. Surprisingly, her parents did not even know she was near the end of her PhD! Then came the really crazy stuff.

In academia, researchers regularly go to conferences around the world. To facilitate discussion, they usually print out a larger poster to bring with them; however, due to travel restrictions, these posters are sometimes printed on cloth instead of paper. Unfortunately, these cloth posters are useless outside of the conference, itself, and will sometimes just sit in labs for years after students have graduated. Knowing this, some people wanted to make a dress for Jessica out of her old posters. Everyone thought it would be a great idea, but I secretly knew Jessica would hate all the attention.

With all this planned, there would be around 50 people in attendance, which was huge. We needed to specifically ask for a large lecture room to support everyone and someone needed to lead Jessica to that room after her defense. That someone was, unfortunately, me.

There are two simultaneous truths about PhD defences:

  1. It is almost impossible to fail. At least with our university, by the time the defense is happening, the student should have already proven themselves as an adequate researcher through their publication history.

If your advisor thinks you are ready for the defense, you almost certainly are.

  1. It is one of the most nerve-wracking experiences imaginable.

Here's the thing. You know your research is solid. They know your research is solid. Objectively, there is absolutely no way you could fail; however, subjectively, it feels like you have spent 5 years building up to this moment. With that in mind, your mind plays cruel tricks on you and begins conjuring up every possible way the defense could go wrong. During this phase, it is rare to see the student in the office at all because they are usually at home mentally preparing themselves.

Since I was the one that had to lead Jessica to her after party, I also had to be on the lookout for her when she came to the office before her defense. On the rare occasion where Jessica did come to the office, she was in and out in a matter of 30 minutes. I was barely able to keep track of her, but as she left the office and made her way down the hallway, I followed her to ask her some simple questions.

"Hey Jessica!" I called, "Do you have a minute?"

She turned around, clearly exhausted, but tried to put on a cheery face, saying, "Yeah, sure. Let's grab a meeting room."

Oh, uh. Ok. So I knew we didn't need a meeting room, right? I mean, I just had to ask her, What are you doing immediately after your defense. That's it. But I thought that would be too obvious, so I instead said, "Yeah. I.. Need to ask about your research and thought now would be a good time since you are in the office."

We kinda awkwardly shuffled back to my desk where I booked a nearby room and sat down. I didn't know what to say, so we sat there awkwardly for a second before Jessica started the conversation, "So what do you need help with? I thought you were studying something quite different, right?"

"Right, yeah. I am; however, I thought it would be a good idea to..." I really didn't know what to say, "... Ask you about how you calculated the expected value of the probability density functions in your latest paper."

She looked at me for a second, obviously thinking, didn't you cover this in high school. Why are you asking me this? But instead, she graciously said, "Oh, actually. I kinda struggled at that because..."

Ok. So I gotta be honest. I sat her there for literally and hour and could not figure out how to ask her about the defense and in particular what she was doing after it. Instead, I asked the following question, "So, what are you doing on Thursday?"

She shook her head a bit, clearly confused, "My defense?"

"Oh, right." I nodded, pretending I forgot, "Yeah, the defense. You have any plans after?"

"Not really, but I almost certainly don't want to see anyone. Just want to go home and sleep."

"Oh, right." Well, this is awkward, "So, what if you did meet people?"

"I'd probably try to avoid them."

Right, ok. "Well, I'll let you get to it. You are probably busy preparing and everything, right?"

"Yeah, but we can meet again on Friday after the defense."

When I returned to the office, other members of the research unit asked how the conversation went and whether I had accidentally told Jessica about the surprise. I didn't have the heart to tell them to call the party off, so I instead said, "Don't worry, she's not expecting anything!"

So them came the day of the defense, itself. I know Jessica was more nervous than I was, but I was sweating bullets. I was constantly rehearsing different ways in which I could lure Jessica to the right room for her afterparty. I couldn't think of anything good.

+Something to Hide · Scribbleios
GitHub

Something to Hide

I have to be honest. I am the worst possible liar.

A friend of mine, Jessica, has recently spent 5 years of her live intensely devoted to a single topic. At the end of this process, she published a paper or two and finished her PhD. Now this is a great achievement and certainly worth celebrating; however, Jessica is relatively shy. In fact, she's so shy, I don't know if I've ever heard her say more than a single sentence at a time in front of a group of people. Despite that, she has a lot of friends who want to celebrate with her. We all knew she would be against any type of party or gathering, so we started organizing in private.

It started out with a simple potluck where everyone would bring some sort of sweet dish to a secret location outside of the room where she was giving her defense. Then people thought it would be a good idea to bring alcohol and decorate a special hat for her with memorabilia from her time at the university. People stalked her facebook to find her parents and agreed to call them after the defense was done. Surprisingly, her parents did not even know she was near the end of her PhD! Then came the really crazy stuff.

In academia, researchers regularly go to conferences around the world. To facilitate discussion, they usually print out a larger poster to bring with them; however, due to travel restrictions, these posters are sometimes printed on cloth instead of paper. Unfortunately, these cloth posters are useless outside of the conference, itself, and will sometimes just sit in labs for years after students have graduated. Knowing this, some people wanted to make a dress for Jessica out of her old posters. Everyone thought it would be a great idea, but I secretly knew Jessica would hate all the attention.

With all this planned, there would be around 50 people in attendance, which was huge. We needed to specifically ask for a large lecture room to support everyone and someone needed to lead Jessica to that room after her defense. That someone was, unfortunately, me.

There are two simultaneous truths about PhD defences:

  1. It is almost impossible to fail. At least with our university, by the time the defense is happening, the student should have already proven themselves as an adequate researcher through their publication history.

If your advisor thinks you are ready for the defense, you almost certainly are.

  1. It is one of the most nerve-wracking experiences imaginable.

Here's the thing. You know your research is solid. They know your research is solid. Objectively, there is absolutely no way you could fail; however, subjectively, it feels like you have spent 5 years building up to this moment. With that in mind, your mind plays cruel tricks on you and begins conjuring up every possible way the defense could go wrong. During this phase, it is rare to see the student in the office at all because they are usually at home mentally preparing themselves.

Since I was the one that had to lead Jessica to her after party, I also had to be on the lookout for her when she came to the office before her defense. On the rare occasion where Jessica did come to the office, she was in and out in a matter of 30 minutes. I was barely able to keep track of her, but as she left the office and made her way down the hallway, I followed her to ask her some simple questions.

"Hey Jessica!" I called, "Do you have a minute?"

She turned around, clearly exhausted, but tried to put on a cheery face, saying, "Yeah, sure. Let's grab a meeting room."

Oh, uh. Ok. So I knew we didn't need a meeting room, right? I mean, I just had to ask her, What are you doing immediately after your defense. That's it. But I thought that would be too obvious, so I instead said, "Yeah. I.. Need to ask about your research and thought now would be a good time since you are in the office."

We kinda awkwardly shuffled back to my desk where I booked a nearby room and sat down. I didn't know what to say, so we sat there awkwardly for a second before Jessica started the conversation, "So what do you need help with? I thought you were studying something quite different, right?"

"Right, yeah. I am; however, I thought it would be a good idea to..." I really didn't know what to say, "... Ask you about how you calculated the expected value of the probability density functions in your latest paper."

She looked at me for a second, obviously thinking, didn't you cover this in high school. Why are you asking me this? But instead, she graciously said, "Oh, actually. I kinda struggled at that because..."

Ok. So I gotta be honest. I sat her there for literally and hour and could not figure out how to ask her about the defense and in particular what she was doing after it. Instead, I asked the following question, "So, what are you doing on Thursday?"

She shook her head a bit, clearly confused, "My defense?"

"Oh, right." I nodded, pretending I forgot, "Yeah, the defense. You have any plans after?"

"Not really, but I almost certainly don't want to see anyone. Just want to go home and sleep."

"Oh, right." Well, this is awkward, "So, what if you did meet people?"

"I'd probably try to avoid them."

Right, ok. "Well, I'll let you get to it. You are probably busy preparing and everything, right?"

"Yeah, but we can meet again on Friday after the defense."

When I returned to the office, other members of the research unit asked how the conversation went and whether I had accidentally told Jessica about the surprise. I didn't have the heart to tell them to call the party off, so I instead said, "Don't worry, she's not expecting anything!"

So them came the day of the defense, itself. I know Jessica was more nervous than I was, but I was sweating bullets. I was constantly rehearsing different ways in which I could lure Jessica to the right room for her afterparty. I couldn't think of anything good.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/April/11/index.html b/content/2022/April/11/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/April/11/index.html rename to content/2022/April/11/index.html index 3ced198..6ea9e4a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/April/11/index.html +++ b/content/2022/April/11/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Modern Blacksmith · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Modern Blacksmith

The crashing hammer, ringing in his ear, Resonating deeply with yesteryear. The walls trembling, quaking with ev'ry strike, In fear of ev'ry weapon, forged alike. An ancient shadow cast along his life, Far gone the days where mortals need the knife.

Eyes that once gazed in fires now on a screen, No longer daydreaming in fields of green. Everything changed in the blink of an eye, Now our blacksmith must don a suit and tie. Ancient magic, now imprisoned in tech, Is used in abundance, not kept in check.

One night, absorbed, he toiled through it all, And jolted awake to the rooster's call. Weary and tired, he found he was late, He had a meeting to get to, it was fate. He grabbed his belongings quickly off the couch, With his sword mistakenly in his pouch.

+The Modern Blacksmith · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Modern Blacksmith

The crashing hammer, ringing in his ear, Resonating deeply with yesteryear. The walls trembling, quaking with ev'ry strike, In fear of ev'ry weapon, forged alike. An ancient shadow cast along his life, Far gone the days where mortals need the knife.

Eyes that once gazed in fires now on a screen, No longer daydreaming in fields of green. Everything changed in the blink of an eye, Now our blacksmith must don a suit and tie. Ancient magic, now imprisoned in tech, Is used in abundance, not kept in check.

One night, absorbed, he toiled through it all, And jolted awake to the rooster's call. Weary and tired, he found he was late, He had a meeting to get to, it was fate. He grabbed his belongings quickly off the couch, With his sword mistakenly in his pouch.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/August/01/index.html b/content/2022/August/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/August/01/index.html rename to content/2022/August/01/index.html index 35e9cdd..01f180c 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/August/01/index.html +++ b/content/2022/August/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Commute · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Commute

Every day is the same, but there's a certain pleasure that comes with that monotony. I get up at 5, shower, eat, and then head off to the Batterbrook station to catch the 6:00 train to Bakersfield. I usually don't get home until 9:00 PM where I quickly collapse onto my bed and pray to God for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

For the past decade, I have worked for the same company and have never once been late.

One day, as I entered the train, I found myself frowning at a rather unusual sight: newly upholstered seats. They were once a cool, patterned blue – reminiscent of the seats found on charter buses in the 90s. Now they were red. No patterns or anything. Just red.

I sighed and took my usual place next to the window with a working socket, but when I plugged in my laptop to get some work done, it created a small spark. For some reason, it wasn't charging, so I opted to just close the laptop and stare absently out the window.

At this stage, the train sill hadn't left the station. It was waiting a few more minutes for the usual passengers to meander on in. It was Friday, so I was expecting maybe three or four others on the route:

An old lady who always carried a single piece of bread in a plastic bag. I never really asked what the bread was for, but I imagined she would go off to feed some birds or something somewhere near Bakersfield. A young graduate student who always used the commute to study a bit or scribble in her notebook. A chef who always seemed dejected and stared absently out the window the entire ride. If I was lucky, Jeff would join. He was the only other person I had ever spoken to on the train. He was a nice enough guy and always had some interesting story to tell about the time he cycled across America from the tip of Chile to Alaska. He was a bit flirty and would often tap my shoulder in a somewhat uncomfortable manner, but was otherwise the highlight of my day. Unfortunately, I was not lucky. As the doors closed, there was absolutely no one in the cabin. I started wondering if maybe they were boycotting the new seats, but dismissed the thought and zoned out a bit as the train went through the first tunnel.

There was a large orchard right outside of Batterbrook. The trees were perfectly aligned, so in one second, you could see down an entire row, but it would look completely random soon thereafter. The mix between order and chaos was always mesmerixing to watch.

We then went through the second tunnel, revealing a series of fish farms, which were just large pols of water to breed fish in. I would always try to count the number of cranes. There were usually about ten, but I must have been off my game or else a bit tired. The train seemed to be moving a bit fast and I only found five.

After the next tunnel, there would be a some rice patties, where there were sometimes elderly workers already wading about and harvesting their crop. I always respected their work ethic at their age. Bending down for hours every day would wreck my back. I didn't know how they did it for literal decades of their life.

I took a deep breath and sighed, wondering how many people would be out today, but as we left the next tunnel, there were no rice patties. In fact, it was a dense forest. I furrowed my brows a bit and started wondering where we were. There was no forest between Batterbrook and Bakersfield.

I checked the map on my phone, but I didn't have service and it couldn't pinpoint where we were. I looked to the sign at the front of the cabin, which clearly indicated the next stop was Bakersfield, so I just slumped back in my chair and shook my head. Maybe there was always a forest and I just forgot? Maybe it was a detour? It felt like the train was moving faster than usual, maybe that was because of the detour?

It didn't matter, as long as I would get to work on time.

Suddenly, I heard a loud whoosh as we entered another tunnel. When we left, I looked out of the window to see a desert. A literal desert. Sand dunes stretched along the horizon as far as I could see. How did we go from a dense forest to a desert? Were there even any deserts nearby?

Before I could think further, we entered another tunnel. On the other side was a literal ocean. We were on top of the ocean! Wait, no. That didn't make sense. How could we be on top of the ocean? Maybe we were on a really small island?

On the other side of the train, I could see a large mountain in the distance that seemed to be emitting smoke. A volcano?

Another tunnel.

I couldn't tell where we were after that, but it was hot and red.

Anther tunnel. Then cold and white. Another tunnel, then yellow for some reason? It was just a blur of yellow.

Another tunnel, and then... The train stopped.

There was nothing outside of the window. It was pitch black.

I cautiously walked to the doors at the front of the cabin as the conductor announced, "Bakersfield. Please get off for Bakersfield."

I rubbed by eyes as I looked outside of the door. No matter how much I squinted, I could see absolutely nothing, but the conductor did say it was Bakersfield, so this must be the right stop, right? I stood there long enough for the doors to start closing. I had no idea what was on the other side of that door and I didn't want to find out, so instead of stepping out, I stayed put.

When the doors shut, the conductor said, "Next stop: the end of the line."

As the train took off again, I stumbled back to my seat and pulled out my phone. Still no service. Worse, it seemed to be completely out of battery. The screen wouldn't turn on at all.

I tried looking out of the window again, but there was nothing on the other side. The only thing I could see was my own reflection staring back at me. About twenty minutes later, the train stopped and the conductor announced, "We are at the end of the line. Please get on here."

Again, I could see nothing outside of the window or outside of the door, so I stayed put, hoping that the train would find it's way back to Batterbrook eventually.

But as I watched the front of the cabin, I noticed a rather peculiar figure enter the aisle. They were wearing black from head to toe. In fact, I couldn't see an inch of skin on them. They seemed like a living shadow. They walked to a seat a few rows in front of me and collapsed onto the chair, immediately staring off into space.

After a moment, I realized that this person had taken the chef's seat. In fact, outside of the fact that the clothes were pitch black, they were wearing exactly the same outfit as the chef.

I blinked a few times and looked around. A few rows behind me there was a short, shadowy figure deeply engrossed in a large textbook. To my right was another shadow holding a bag of bread. Directly behind me was yet another shadow.

It was Jeff. He was only a silhouette, but I knew it was him. He had his hands in his jacket pocket and was bouncing his leg as if he was anxiously waiting for someone to come into the train. Suddenly, his leg stopped shaking and he stared to the front of the train where the figure of a young woman appeared.

She was the same age as me, wearing a skirt and blouse – the exact clothes I was wearing. I soon realized that this figure was not just a random woman, but was, in fact, me... Or, well, a shadow me.

My heart started beating faster than it ever had before. I wanted to scream, but was afraid of startling the other passengers. I knew she was coming to my seat and that I had to leave, but no matter what I did, my body would not move. I was stuck, glued to my chair.

As she came closer, she began saying something to shadow Jeff. I couldn't quite make out what it was, but it was clear the two of them were laughing between each other. They did not seem to notice me at all. She then pulled her hair back slightly and began to sit down in the exact seat I was currently sitting in. I tried to move, but couldn't. I was completely and utterly paralyzed.

I felt a cold wave rush over me and suddenly felt my head tilt to the side towards Jeff. My body was moving on it's own. I then heard myself speak, "So Jeff, any cool stories to tell?"

He laughed and said, "Well, I fought an elephant seal in California once!"

My body then laughed, "I'm sure you did, Jeff."

"No seriously! I was camping on a beach..."

As Jeff continued, I kept trying to free myself and move on my own, but I could not. Whatever that shadowy figure was, it now had complete control over me. I tried to look around, only to realize that the windows were no longer pitch-black.

In fact, everyone was, so far as I could tell, normal. They were no longer pitch-black silhouettes, but living, breathing people. From the best I could tell, we were sitting at the Batterbrook station on the 6:00 train just like always.

Soon the doors began to close and the conductor announced, "Next stop, Bakersfield."

We were off to live another day just as we always have whether I wanted to or not.

Prompt: You catch your usual 6am train to work. Today all the seats are empty, which you think is odd but you're still half-asleep so you don't think much of it. That is until you realize the train isn't making any the usual stops and the train starts going faster.

+The Commute · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Commute

Every day is the same, but there's a certain pleasure that comes with that monotony. I get up at 5, shower, eat, and then head off to the Batterbrook station to catch the 6:00 train to Bakersfield. I usually don't get home until 9:00 PM where I quickly collapse onto my bed and pray to God for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.

For the past decade, I have worked for the same company and have never once been late.

One day, as I entered the train, I found myself frowning at a rather unusual sight: newly upholstered seats. They were once a cool, patterned blue – reminiscent of the seats found on charter buses in the 90s. Now they were red. No patterns or anything. Just red.

I sighed and took my usual place next to the window with a working socket, but when I plugged in my laptop to get some work done, it created a small spark. For some reason, it wasn't charging, so I opted to just close the laptop and stare absently out the window.

At this stage, the train sill hadn't left the station. It was waiting a few more minutes for the usual passengers to meander on in. It was Friday, so I was expecting maybe three or four others on the route:

An old lady who always carried a single piece of bread in a plastic bag. I never really asked what the bread was for, but I imagined she would go off to feed some birds or something somewhere near Bakersfield. A young graduate student who always used the commute to study a bit or scribble in her notebook. A chef who always seemed dejected and stared absently out the window the entire ride. If I was lucky, Jeff would join. He was the only other person I had ever spoken to on the train. He was a nice enough guy and always had some interesting story to tell about the time he cycled across America from the tip of Chile to Alaska. He was a bit flirty and would often tap my shoulder in a somewhat uncomfortable manner, but was otherwise the highlight of my day. Unfortunately, I was not lucky. As the doors closed, there was absolutely no one in the cabin. I started wondering if maybe they were boycotting the new seats, but dismissed the thought and zoned out a bit as the train went through the first tunnel.

There was a large orchard right outside of Batterbrook. The trees were perfectly aligned, so in one second, you could see down an entire row, but it would look completely random soon thereafter. The mix between order and chaos was always mesmerixing to watch.

We then went through the second tunnel, revealing a series of fish farms, which were just large pols of water to breed fish in. I would always try to count the number of cranes. There were usually about ten, but I must have been off my game or else a bit tired. The train seemed to be moving a bit fast and I only found five.

After the next tunnel, there would be a some rice patties, where there were sometimes elderly workers already wading about and harvesting their crop. I always respected their work ethic at their age. Bending down for hours every day would wreck my back. I didn't know how they did it for literal decades of their life.

I took a deep breath and sighed, wondering how many people would be out today, but as we left the next tunnel, there were no rice patties. In fact, it was a dense forest. I furrowed my brows a bit and started wondering where we were. There was no forest between Batterbrook and Bakersfield.

I checked the map on my phone, but I didn't have service and it couldn't pinpoint where we were. I looked to the sign at the front of the cabin, which clearly indicated the next stop was Bakersfield, so I just slumped back in my chair and shook my head. Maybe there was always a forest and I just forgot? Maybe it was a detour? It felt like the train was moving faster than usual, maybe that was because of the detour?

It didn't matter, as long as I would get to work on time.

Suddenly, I heard a loud whoosh as we entered another tunnel. When we left, I looked out of the window to see a desert. A literal desert. Sand dunes stretched along the horizon as far as I could see. How did we go from a dense forest to a desert? Were there even any deserts nearby?

Before I could think further, we entered another tunnel. On the other side was a literal ocean. We were on top of the ocean! Wait, no. That didn't make sense. How could we be on top of the ocean? Maybe we were on a really small island?

On the other side of the train, I could see a large mountain in the distance that seemed to be emitting smoke. A volcano?

Another tunnel.

I couldn't tell where we were after that, but it was hot and red.

Anther tunnel. Then cold and white. Another tunnel, then yellow for some reason? It was just a blur of yellow.

Another tunnel, and then... The train stopped.

There was nothing outside of the window. It was pitch black.

I cautiously walked to the doors at the front of the cabin as the conductor announced, "Bakersfield. Please get off for Bakersfield."

I rubbed by eyes as I looked outside of the door. No matter how much I squinted, I could see absolutely nothing, but the conductor did say it was Bakersfield, so this must be the right stop, right? I stood there long enough for the doors to start closing. I had no idea what was on the other side of that door and I didn't want to find out, so instead of stepping out, I stayed put.

When the doors shut, the conductor said, "Next stop: the end of the line."

As the train took off again, I stumbled back to my seat and pulled out my phone. Still no service. Worse, it seemed to be completely out of battery. The screen wouldn't turn on at all.

I tried looking out of the window again, but there was nothing on the other side. The only thing I could see was my own reflection staring back at me. About twenty minutes later, the train stopped and the conductor announced, "We are at the end of the line. Please get on here."

Again, I could see nothing outside of the window or outside of the door, so I stayed put, hoping that the train would find it's way back to Batterbrook eventually.

But as I watched the front of the cabin, I noticed a rather peculiar figure enter the aisle. They were wearing black from head to toe. In fact, I couldn't see an inch of skin on them. They seemed like a living shadow. They walked to a seat a few rows in front of me and collapsed onto the chair, immediately staring off into space.

After a moment, I realized that this person had taken the chef's seat. In fact, outside of the fact that the clothes were pitch black, they were wearing exactly the same outfit as the chef.

I blinked a few times and looked around. A few rows behind me there was a short, shadowy figure deeply engrossed in a large textbook. To my right was another shadow holding a bag of bread. Directly behind me was yet another shadow.

It was Jeff. He was only a silhouette, but I knew it was him. He had his hands in his jacket pocket and was bouncing his leg as if he was anxiously waiting for someone to come into the train. Suddenly, his leg stopped shaking and he stared to the front of the train where the figure of a young woman appeared.

She was the same age as me, wearing a skirt and blouse – the exact clothes I was wearing. I soon realized that this figure was not just a random woman, but was, in fact, me... Or, well, a shadow me.

My heart started beating faster than it ever had before. I wanted to scream, but was afraid of startling the other passengers. I knew she was coming to my seat and that I had to leave, but no matter what I did, my body would not move. I was stuck, glued to my chair.

As she came closer, she began saying something to shadow Jeff. I couldn't quite make out what it was, but it was clear the two of them were laughing between each other. They did not seem to notice me at all. She then pulled her hair back slightly and began to sit down in the exact seat I was currently sitting in. I tried to move, but couldn't. I was completely and utterly paralyzed.

I felt a cold wave rush over me and suddenly felt my head tilt to the side towards Jeff. My body was moving on it's own. I then heard myself speak, "So Jeff, any cool stories to tell?"

He laughed and said, "Well, I fought an elephant seal in California once!"

My body then laughed, "I'm sure you did, Jeff."

"No seriously! I was camping on a beach..."

As Jeff continued, I kept trying to free myself and move on my own, but I could not. Whatever that shadowy figure was, it now had complete control over me. I tried to look around, only to realize that the windows were no longer pitch-black.

In fact, everyone was, so far as I could tell, normal. They were no longer pitch-black silhouettes, but living, breathing people. From the best I could tell, we were sitting at the Batterbrook station on the 6:00 train just like always.

Soon the doors began to close and the conductor announced, "Next stop, Bakersfield."

We were off to live another day just as we always have whether I wanted to or not.

Prompt: You catch your usual 6am train to work. Today all the seats are empty, which you think is odd but you're still half-asleep so you don't think much of it. That is until you realize the train isn't making any the usual stops and the train starts going faster.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/February/01/index.html b/content/2022/February/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/February/01/index.html rename to content/2022/February/01/index.html index 2ab16b2..4150fda 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/February/01/index.html +++ b/content/2022/February/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Academic Correspondences · Scribbleios
GitHub

Academic Correspondences

The other day, I was browsing the ArXiv when I found an interesting paper:

Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging

I don't really care to delve too deeply into the details here, but suffice it to say that there is a huge difference between the quantum and classical worlds, and the transition between them is incredibly tricky to study [1]. At the quantum scale, each individual atom is incredibly important, but there are at least 10^23 atoms in every mol, which is one of the smallest macroscopic units other fields (like chemistry or biology) consider. For this reason, most researchers ignore individual atoms in favor of mean-field approaches, which merge all the particles into a big glob of matter. The problem is that this approach loses all of the interesting "quantumness" that people love.

If we could figure out how to directly study individual atoms at the macroscopic scale, it would become possible to study quantum effects in real-life systems and potentially learn how the effects really affect the classical world [2]. The paper proposed using a parallelized approach to symbolic computation to allow for better analytical calculations and thereby probe the transition via directly adding one particle at a time to the existing analytical system. It would use modern supercomputers to provide a better equation in a way that could be directly tested experimentally.

Honestly, it was a Nobel-prize-worthy proposal if the experiments worked. Without a second thought, I e-mailed the last author:

Hello Dr. G. Orcman

I am Dr. Qedem, currently a postdoctoral researcher at MIT. I recently found your paper entitled, Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging and find it incredibly interesting. I have access to Summit, which is one of the fastest supercomputers available and have deep knowledge of General-Purpose GPU computing. I also have connections with a few experimental labs that might be interested in this proposal.

I can make myself available any time this week, so if you are willing to work together, please let me know your timezone so we can arrange a meeting.

Looking forward to talking soon! Dr. Qedem

I was rather nervous after sending the e-mail. If I'm honest, I don't usually send messages to random people on the ArXiv, but I thought I had enough academic clout to at least get the ball rolling.

After about a week, I still did not receive a response and started thumbing through the paper in my spare time while working on a new symbolic computation engine. After a month, I had everything ready to do some basic integration tests and launch the code on a distributed system, but still no response.

Honestly, Academics are like that sometimes. The beauty of research was that each paper should provide the necessary details to replicate results and build into future work, so I decided to use the paper as a test case and continue on. Once those tests passed, I decided to send one more e-mail:

Hello Dr. G. Orcman,

I sent you an e-mail a few weeks ago asking if we could collaborate on your most recent paper, Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging. Since then, I have replicated the results of your paper and am ready to launch a much larger simulation on Summit. The code can be found here: [insert github url]

I would still love to talk to you, if you have a moment. If you are interested, please let me know your timezone so we can arrange a meeting.

Thanks again, Dr. Qedem

After a week, I still received no response and decided to launch the simulation anyway. It would take about a month to finish, so I could work on other projects in the meantime.

At some point while the simulation was running, I received the following e-mail:

I no Idea what u say. Grog hav degree in quantum, NOT ENGLISH. Code Plese rite code in FORTRAN77.

Honestly, it was relatively well-structured for an e-mail from a tenured professor.

[1] For those actually interested, here are the reasons the quantum to classical transition is so difficult to study:

  1. Analytical (purely mathematical) methods need to account for each individual atom. With every new atom added into the system, the interactions with every other object must also be taken into account. The tedious bookkeeping here is intense. Currently, we can keep up with maybe 3 or 4 particles before it is no longer within the realm of human capability.
  2. Numerically (purely in code) things are a bit easier in some sense. N body simulations are well-known and used all the time in galaxy simulations, but unfortunately we just don't have the computing power to go beyond maybe a few dozen particles here. Again, the scaling is absolutely insane.
  3. Experimentally (via using literal atoms), one would need to trap a single atom and then slowly scale it up particle by particle until it is a macroscopic object. The issue here is that trapping single atoms is super hard. Right now, it requires near-0 Kelvin temperature, which can only be found in a vacuum (even less dense than outer space). From there, lasers must be used to guide atoms together one-by-one.

[2] Note that the mean-field approaches actually work quite well for most "real" systems and thus the quantum-classical transition is not too important for most engineering purposes. I personally find it interesting as it allows for people to better understand scaling laws numerically, but there are some interesting fundamental questions that are on the boundary between the two worlds.

Prompt: "Grog have degree in quantum physics, NOT ENGLISH."

+Academic Correspondences · Scribbleios
GitHub

Academic Correspondences

The other day, I was browsing the ArXiv when I found an interesting paper:

Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging

I don't really care to delve too deeply into the details here, but suffice it to say that there is a huge difference between the quantum and classical worlds, and the transition between them is incredibly tricky to study [1]. At the quantum scale, each individual atom is incredibly important, but there are at least 10^23 atoms in every mol, which is one of the smallest macroscopic units other fields (like chemistry or biology) consider. For this reason, most researchers ignore individual atoms in favor of mean-field approaches, which merge all the particles into a big glob of matter. The problem is that this approach loses all of the interesting "quantumness" that people love.

If we could figure out how to directly study individual atoms at the macroscopic scale, it would become possible to study quantum effects in real-life systems and potentially learn how the effects really affect the classical world [2]. The paper proposed using a parallelized approach to symbolic computation to allow for better analytical calculations and thereby probe the transition via directly adding one particle at a time to the existing analytical system. It would use modern supercomputers to provide a better equation in a way that could be directly tested experimentally.

Honestly, it was a Nobel-prize-worthy proposal if the experiments worked. Without a second thought, I e-mailed the last author:

Hello Dr. G. Orcman

I am Dr. Qedem, currently a postdoctoral researcher at MIT. I recently found your paper entitled, Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging and find it incredibly interesting. I have access to Summit, which is one of the fastest supercomputers available and have deep knowledge of General-Purpose GPU computing. I also have connections with a few experimental labs that might be interested in this proposal.

I can make myself available any time this week, so if you are willing to work together, please let me know your timezone so we can arrange a meeting.

Looking forward to talking soon! Dr. Qedem

I was rather nervous after sending the e-mail. If I'm honest, I don't usually send messages to random people on the ArXiv, but I thought I had enough academic clout to at least get the ball rolling.

After about a week, I still did not receive a response and started thumbing through the paper in my spare time while working on a new symbolic computation engine. After a month, I had everything ready to do some basic integration tests and launch the code on a distributed system, but still no response.

Honestly, Academics are like that sometimes. The beauty of research was that each paper should provide the necessary details to replicate results and build into future work, so I decided to use the paper as a test case and continue on. Once those tests passed, I decided to send one more e-mail:

Hello Dr. G. Orcman,

I sent you an e-mail a few weeks ago asking if we could collaborate on your most recent paper, Probing the quantum to classical transition via simulated trap merging. Since then, I have replicated the results of your paper and am ready to launch a much larger simulation on Summit. The code can be found here: [insert github url]

I would still love to talk to you, if you have a moment. If you are interested, please let me know your timezone so we can arrange a meeting.

Thanks again, Dr. Qedem

After a week, I still received no response and decided to launch the simulation anyway. It would take about a month to finish, so I could work on other projects in the meantime.

At some point while the simulation was running, I received the following e-mail:

I no Idea what u say. Grog hav degree in quantum, NOT ENGLISH. Code Plese rite code in FORTRAN77.

Honestly, it was relatively well-structured for an e-mail from a tenured professor.

[1] For those actually interested, here are the reasons the quantum to classical transition is so difficult to study:

  1. Analytical (purely mathematical) methods need to account for each individual atom. With every new atom added into the system, the interactions with every other object must also be taken into account. The tedious bookkeeping here is intense. Currently, we can keep up with maybe 3 or 4 particles before it is no longer within the realm of human capability.
  2. Numerically (purely in code) things are a bit easier in some sense. N body simulations are well-known and used all the time in galaxy simulations, but unfortunately we just don't have the computing power to go beyond maybe a few dozen particles here. Again, the scaling is absolutely insane.
  3. Experimentally (via using literal atoms), one would need to trap a single atom and then slowly scale it up particle by particle until it is a macroscopic object. The issue here is that trapping single atoms is super hard. Right now, it requires near-0 Kelvin temperature, which can only be found in a vacuum (even less dense than outer space). From there, lasers must be used to guide atoms together one-by-one.

[2] Note that the mean-field approaches actually work quite well for most "real" systems and thus the quantum-classical transition is not too important for most engineering purposes. I personally find it interesting as it allows for people to better understand scaling laws numerically, but there are some interesting fundamental questions that are on the boundary between the two worlds.

Prompt: "Grog have degree in quantum physics, NOT ENGLISH."

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/February/02/index.html b/content/2022/February/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/February/02/index.html rename to content/2022/February/02/index.html index 1acfe60..b63296f 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/February/02/index.html +++ b/content/2022/February/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Bittersweet Memories · Scribbleios
GitHub

Bittersweet Memories

There are some events in life that I will never forget.

I remember my PhD exam so clearly, it's as if it happened only yesterday! The nervous excitement of presenting my research to world-leading experts in my field was like nothing I ever felt before.

I remember the moment my wife and I started dating. We were walking home in the dark after class one day, both of us awkwardly mumbling about whatever we could to keep the conversation going. At some stage, we couldn't think of anything left to talk about and wound up holding hands, silently walking in the dark. Somehow, that moment feels so much deeper than even our wedding day.

I remember almost every minute with my beautiful daughter – the moment she was born, the time she spent hours looking for a four-leaf clover because she thought I was sad, her graduation ceremony...

These are all memories I cherish more than anything else, but there are some events in life I wish I could forget. Today is the anniversary of such an occasion. I ended up taking the day off work and wandering aimlessly around town, haunted by bittersweet memories.

Somehow or another, I found myself in front of a graveyard, studying the tombstones while tapping the fence surrounding them. At that moment, I felt a small drop of rain on my hand. I looked up at the somewhat menacing clouds and cursed at myself for ignoring the forecast this morning. I guess I deserved it.

I rushed to the small steeple nearby for some shelter, thinking it might also be a quiet place to clear my mind. Even with the lights off, the room was illuminated by a colorful mosaic from the stained-glass window, which highlighted a fresh red carpet and several wooden pews. At front pew, there was an older man, clad entirely in black, except for a white bar hidden in his collar. When I entered, he turned around, nodded, and then resumed his prayer.

I slowly made my way to the pew behind him before sitting down and idly staring at the cross hanging from the far wall. The rain soon began to pick up, surrounding both of us in a sea of white noise. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind, but couldn't concentrate with the drops falling onto my hands.

The priest did not look up from his prayer, but said, "I guess I should have expected to see you today."

I wiped the tears from my eyes before responding, "Old habits are hard to break, I guess."

He pointed to the corner of the room, "I figured it might rain today and prepared an umbrella for you."

"Thanks."

I ran my hands through my hair before making my way out of the church to walk around the yard. As I left, the priest said, "Be sure to come back here when you are done. A package was dropped off earlier today by some men in fancy suits."

A package? Here? I sighed again and said, "Well, I need to return the umbrella anyhow."

The rain was intense. I could hardly think over the barrage of water on top of the umbrella, but it was probably better that way. My body instinctively knew what to do and began walking a familiar route through the grounds.

I stopped before three gravestones for a father, mother, and child, all inscribed with the date, 2.22.2002. They had died in a fatal accident a few decades ago. Well, that is not exactly true. The tombstone on the right was actually empty, waiting for the father to eventually meet his end as well, but he had asked for his stone to be made at the same time as his family. After all, even if his body was alive, he died that day as well.

I don't know how long I stood there examining the graves, but by the time I recognized where I was again, the rain had stopped. I was completely soaked through from head to toe and started walking again, listening to the awkward squishing sounds from my shoes as I made my way back to return the umbrella.

When I opened the door, the lights were on again. The priest eyed me before saying, "I guess this year was pretty rough."

"Yeah. I didn't expect the rain."

"It's ok. Wait here a moment..." He hustled off towards his office and returned with a bright pink towel. "Use this to dry off. After that, please sit down."

I found myself chuckling slightly at the towel and shook out the umbrella before doing as he said. He then placed a laptop in my lap and said, "Earlier today, a few men stopped by and dropped this off. It's a flash drive with a video on it. I was told it was confidential, but also that you should watch it before leaving the church."

I was still confused, but said, "Ok. I'll watch it."

He then started walking away, "I will give you privacy. Let me know when you are done."

When I put the drive in the computer, a file appeared on the desktop labelled, "2.25.2002." I grimaced slightly, but clicked on it anyway. When it opened, I saw someone I truly did not expect: me from a few decades ago.

I saw myself fumbling around with the camera before nodding to myself. My eyes were swollen and red. I clearly had not slept since the accident. The recorded version of me took a deep breath before saying a few words that echoed throughout the sanctuary:

This is not your fault.

Prompt: You receive a sealed package with a letter from a law firm explaining that their services were hired several decades ago to deliver this package to you, at this address, on this day. Inside the package is a flash drive with a recorded video message to you, from yourself.

+Bittersweet Memories · Scribbleios
GitHub

Bittersweet Memories

There are some events in life that I will never forget.

I remember my PhD exam so clearly, it's as if it happened only yesterday! The nervous excitement of presenting my research to world-leading experts in my field was like nothing I ever felt before.

I remember the moment my wife and I started dating. We were walking home in the dark after class one day, both of us awkwardly mumbling about whatever we could to keep the conversation going. At some stage, we couldn't think of anything left to talk about and wound up holding hands, silently walking in the dark. Somehow, that moment feels so much deeper than even our wedding day.

I remember almost every minute with my beautiful daughter – the moment she was born, the time she spent hours looking for a four-leaf clover because she thought I was sad, her graduation ceremony...

These are all memories I cherish more than anything else, but there are some events in life I wish I could forget. Today is the anniversary of such an occasion. I ended up taking the day off work and wandering aimlessly around town, haunted by bittersweet memories.

Somehow or another, I found myself in front of a graveyard, studying the tombstones while tapping the fence surrounding them. At that moment, I felt a small drop of rain on my hand. I looked up at the somewhat menacing clouds and cursed at myself for ignoring the forecast this morning. I guess I deserved it.

I rushed to the small steeple nearby for some shelter, thinking it might also be a quiet place to clear my mind. Even with the lights off, the room was illuminated by a colorful mosaic from the stained-glass window, which highlighted a fresh red carpet and several wooden pews. At front pew, there was an older man, clad entirely in black, except for a white bar hidden in his collar. When I entered, he turned around, nodded, and then resumed his prayer.

I slowly made my way to the pew behind him before sitting down and idly staring at the cross hanging from the far wall. The rain soon began to pick up, surrounding both of us in a sea of white noise. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind, but couldn't concentrate with the drops falling onto my hands.

The priest did not look up from his prayer, but said, "I guess I should have expected to see you today."

I wiped the tears from my eyes before responding, "Old habits are hard to break, I guess."

He pointed to the corner of the room, "I figured it might rain today and prepared an umbrella for you."

"Thanks."

I ran my hands through my hair before making my way out of the church to walk around the yard. As I left, the priest said, "Be sure to come back here when you are done. A package was dropped off earlier today by some men in fancy suits."

A package? Here? I sighed again and said, "Well, I need to return the umbrella anyhow."

The rain was intense. I could hardly think over the barrage of water on top of the umbrella, but it was probably better that way. My body instinctively knew what to do and began walking a familiar route through the grounds.

I stopped before three gravestones for a father, mother, and child, all inscribed with the date, 2.22.2002. They had died in a fatal accident a few decades ago. Well, that is not exactly true. The tombstone on the right was actually empty, waiting for the father to eventually meet his end as well, but he had asked for his stone to be made at the same time as his family. After all, even if his body was alive, he died that day as well.

I don't know how long I stood there examining the graves, but by the time I recognized where I was again, the rain had stopped. I was completely soaked through from head to toe and started walking again, listening to the awkward squishing sounds from my shoes as I made my way back to return the umbrella.

When I opened the door, the lights were on again. The priest eyed me before saying, "I guess this year was pretty rough."

"Yeah. I didn't expect the rain."

"It's ok. Wait here a moment..." He hustled off towards his office and returned with a bright pink towel. "Use this to dry off. After that, please sit down."

I found myself chuckling slightly at the towel and shook out the umbrella before doing as he said. He then placed a laptop in my lap and said, "Earlier today, a few men stopped by and dropped this off. It's a flash drive with a video on it. I was told it was confidential, but also that you should watch it before leaving the church."

I was still confused, but said, "Ok. I'll watch it."

He then started walking away, "I will give you privacy. Let me know when you are done."

When I put the drive in the computer, a file appeared on the desktop labelled, "2.25.2002." I grimaced slightly, but clicked on it anyway. When it opened, I saw someone I truly did not expect: me from a few decades ago.

I saw myself fumbling around with the camera before nodding to myself. My eyes were swollen and red. I clearly had not slept since the accident. The recorded version of me took a deep breath before saying a few words that echoed throughout the sanctuary:

This is not your fault.

Prompt: You receive a sealed package with a letter from a law firm explaining that their services were hired several decades ago to deliver this package to you, at this address, on this day. Inside the package is a flash drive with a recorded video message to you, from yourself.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/February/11/index.html b/content/2022/February/11/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/February/11/index.html rename to content/2022/February/11/index.html index f1f6a27..04c2a06 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/February/11/index.html +++ b/content/2022/February/11/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Wikipedia: Peter Shelly · Scribbleios
GitHub

Peter Shelly

Peter Shelly (1972 - present) is an American psychologist best known for his work on transhumanism and the controversy regarding his book, The Diseased Mind. [1] The book initially received immense criticism due to it's morbid depictions of human enhancement through mechanical operations such as grafting muscle tissue to metal plates, [1][2] or training a neural network via human neuronal activity. [1][2][3][4][5] Several doctors and scientists have claimed that such operations would not only be impossible, but highly unethical. [6][7]

In response to this criticism, Shelly wrote:

The human mind has long surpassed it's body. It is time we acknowledge our physical limits and surpass them

On December 31st, 2021, pieces of Shelly's body were found buried under Boston University Bridge. [8][9] After forensic studies, it was found that there were 3 Femer bones, all with Shelly's DNA, [10] and that some of the body parts seemed to belong to unknown relatives. [11] Upon further investigation, the police could not find an official residence for Shelly and found his clinic had been shut down for years before the incident.

This case is still ongoing.

Contents:

  • Early life
  • Theories of death
  • Ongoing investigation

Early life

Peter Shelly was born in Clemont, New Jersey where he lived as a single child with his parents: Paul and Pearle Shelly. [12] As a child, Shelly was considered to be exceptionally gifted and advanced several grades above those of his own age. In The Diseased Mind, Shelly wrote:

My childhood was relatively happy, despite the bullying from my peers. I learned to ignore them and focus on what I cared about most: science and philosophy.

At the age of 14, Shelly was admitted into MIT where he studied a number of different engineering disciplines along with clinical psychology. After university, he opened a small clinic in Boston, Massachusetts, where he remained until 2021 [clarification needed].

Theories of death

On December 31, 2021, pieces of Shelly's body were found under Boston University Bridge. After weeks of investigation, police have still not determined the exact cause of death; however, they have found several anomalies:

  • An extra Femer with Shelly's exact DNA structure [10]
  • A pinky toe with the DNA from an unnamed relative of Shelly [11]
  • Large amounts of hair from various individuals, all of which seemed to be variations on Shelly's DNA [13]

Due to the bizarre nature of the incident and Shelly's prominence as a trans-humanist, several abnormal theories have arisen, including the idea that Shelly had been breeding clones of himself to replace malfunctioning parts of his own body. [14] On January 17th, 2022, Theodore Malcom, a member of the investigation team said, "It is unlikely that Shelly has kidnapped any local people; however, we can not rule out that possibility." [15] This caused several public officials to call for the closing of nearby universities; however, no such action has been taken yet.

Ongoing investigation

The police contacted Shelly's last known patient who had this to say:

Shelly was a good psychologist. He always listened, provided good, constructive feedback and prescribed what he felt was necessary. On the last meeting with him, he told me that he was shutting down his clinic to pursue other ... ventures in life. I did not press him ... A few years later, I found myself walking past the clinic and decided to peer through the window to see if he was still there. There was no one home, just piles and piles of ... hair. I don't know why, but that freaked me out good and proper. I never went near that place again. [16]

Several other individuals claimed that the office always had it's lights on, and there was always someone working behind the curtains. Around a year ago, slightly after Shelly closed his clinic, the police would receive calls about strange looking people who had discolored eyes or were missing arms or legs. Though these reports were filed, no police was ever dispatched to look into them further. [17] Even so, the area around Shelly's clinic is now heavily patrolled. [18]

On February 5th, 2022, Theodore Malcom made the following statement [19]:

Though we are not sure how, we are convinced that Shelly is still alive and may be still active in Boston. If you know anything about this matter or see anyone that remotely resembles Shelly, please call 911 immediately.

He refused to comment further on the matter, as is was "borderline science fiction" and he did not want to "alarm the locals." [19]

There were several new online communities created to discuss Shelly's most recent whereabouts and theories of his death, most notably r/shelleyshelly on reddit.com which believed Shelly was turning himself into a modern monster, akin to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. [20, 21] This idea was loosely based on a quote from The diseased mind, where Shelly wrote:

If two identical twins (let's call them Dawn and Shawn) decided to surgically switch each part of their body one-by-one, who would be who in the end? Clearly Dawn would still be Dawn, just in Shawn's body! The human mind controls the body! Similarly, if one could grow a replica of themselves and constantly replace their own parts with younger versions of themselves, then they have the key to immortality.

The investigation is still ongoing

References

[1] ... ... [21] ...

Prompt: Write a horror story in the format of a Wikipedia article.

+Wikipedia: Peter Shelly · Scribbleios
GitHub

Peter Shelly

Peter Shelly (1972 - present) is an American psychologist best known for his work on transhumanism and the controversy regarding his book, The Diseased Mind. [1] The book initially received immense criticism due to it's morbid depictions of human enhancement through mechanical operations such as grafting muscle tissue to metal plates, [1][2] or training a neural network via human neuronal activity. [1][2][3][4][5] Several doctors and scientists have claimed that such operations would not only be impossible, but highly unethical. [6][7]

In response to this criticism, Shelly wrote:

The human mind has long surpassed it's body. It is time we acknowledge our physical limits and surpass them

On December 31st, 2021, pieces of Shelly's body were found buried under Boston University Bridge. [8][9] After forensic studies, it was found that there were 3 Femer bones, all with Shelly's DNA, [10] and that some of the body parts seemed to belong to unknown relatives. [11] Upon further investigation, the police could not find an official residence for Shelly and found his clinic had been shut down for years before the incident.

This case is still ongoing.

Contents:

  • Early life
  • Theories of death
  • Ongoing investigation

Early life

Peter Shelly was born in Clemont, New Jersey where he lived as a single child with his parents: Paul and Pearle Shelly. [12] As a child, Shelly was considered to be exceptionally gifted and advanced several grades above those of his own age. In The Diseased Mind, Shelly wrote:

My childhood was relatively happy, despite the bullying from my peers. I learned to ignore them and focus on what I cared about most: science and philosophy.

At the age of 14, Shelly was admitted into MIT where he studied a number of different engineering disciplines along with clinical psychology. After university, he opened a small clinic in Boston, Massachusetts, where he remained until 2021 [clarification needed].

Theories of death

On December 31, 2021, pieces of Shelly's body were found under Boston University Bridge. After weeks of investigation, police have still not determined the exact cause of death; however, they have found several anomalies:

  • An extra Femer with Shelly's exact DNA structure [10]
  • A pinky toe with the DNA from an unnamed relative of Shelly [11]
  • Large amounts of hair from various individuals, all of which seemed to be variations on Shelly's DNA [13]

Due to the bizarre nature of the incident and Shelly's prominence as a trans-humanist, several abnormal theories have arisen, including the idea that Shelly had been breeding clones of himself to replace malfunctioning parts of his own body. [14] On January 17th, 2022, Theodore Malcom, a member of the investigation team said, "It is unlikely that Shelly has kidnapped any local people; however, we can not rule out that possibility." [15] This caused several public officials to call for the closing of nearby universities; however, no such action has been taken yet.

Ongoing investigation

The police contacted Shelly's last known patient who had this to say:

Shelly was a good psychologist. He always listened, provided good, constructive feedback and prescribed what he felt was necessary. On the last meeting with him, he told me that he was shutting down his clinic to pursue other ... ventures in life. I did not press him ... A few years later, I found myself walking past the clinic and decided to peer through the window to see if he was still there. There was no one home, just piles and piles of ... hair. I don't know why, but that freaked me out good and proper. I never went near that place again. [16]

Several other individuals claimed that the office always had it's lights on, and there was always someone working behind the curtains. Around a year ago, slightly after Shelly closed his clinic, the police would receive calls about strange looking people who had discolored eyes or were missing arms or legs. Though these reports were filed, no police was ever dispatched to look into them further. [17] Even so, the area around Shelly's clinic is now heavily patrolled. [18]

On February 5th, 2022, Theodore Malcom made the following statement [19]:

Though we are not sure how, we are convinced that Shelly is still alive and may be still active in Boston. If you know anything about this matter or see anyone that remotely resembles Shelly, please call 911 immediately.

He refused to comment further on the matter, as is was "borderline science fiction" and he did not want to "alarm the locals." [19]

There were several new online communities created to discuss Shelly's most recent whereabouts and theories of his death, most notably r/shelleyshelly on reddit.com which believed Shelly was turning himself into a modern monster, akin to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. [20, 21] This idea was loosely based on a quote from The diseased mind, where Shelly wrote:

If two identical twins (let's call them Dawn and Shawn) decided to surgically switch each part of their body one-by-one, who would be who in the end? Clearly Dawn would still be Dawn, just in Shawn's body! The human mind controls the body! Similarly, if one could grow a replica of themselves and constantly replace their own parts with younger versions of themselves, then they have the key to immortality.

The investigation is still ongoing

References

[1] ... ... [21] ...

Prompt: Write a horror story in the format of a Wikipedia article.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/February/15/index.html b/content/2022/February/15/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/February/15/index.html rename to content/2022/February/15/index.html index 4358e88..6afaa96 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/February/15/index.html +++ b/content/2022/February/15/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Walking to School · Scribbleios
GitHub

Walking to School

There have been a handful of people I would protect with my life. Today, I will tell you the story of one of them: my best friend Tim.

See, when I was younger, I was not particularly well-off. I had to spend most of my time hunting or otherwise scavenging for food to survive. One day, after chasing down a rabbit, a small boy crossed my path. It was Tim.

I stopped for a moment and stared at him without saying a word. He instantly understood my situation and motioned for me to stay for a few moments while he rummaged in his bag, pulling out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in two and gave me half of it.

I thanked him in the best way I knew how and let him go on his way.

The next day, at around the same time and place, I met him again. This time, he was waiting for me. He again gave me half a loaf of bread and left.

Somehow, this turned into a regular ritual and I began to walk with him every morning, dropping him off at the school gates. For years, we would walk together, often playing little idle games and chatting along the way. Honestly, I cherish those moments more than anything else in my life.

One day, Tim brought a small ball to toss back and forth. He would throw it as far as he could, and I would try to catch it before returning it. Some time later, Tim looked at his watch and frantically began packing his backpack. Somehow, we had completely lost track of time and Tim was late!

Once he gathered everything, he ran across the street without looking, right in the way of an oncoming car. Without thinking, I dashed towards him and pushed him out of the way.

I don't know exactly what happened next, but I found myself in front of the school gates again. Frantically, I looked around for Tim. Where was he? Was he ok? Did I save him?

Just as I was about to call his name, the school doors opened and a tall, older man stepped out. He was wearing a white robe and carrying a small book and pen. He looked at me, opened his book, and furrowed his brows a bit.

I thought it had to be the schoolmaster, angry at Tim for being late. I rushed to him to try to explain the situation, but he motioned for me to stay and said, "It appears that there as been a complication. You are still needed."

The headmaster then snapped his fingers and I found myself on the side of the road, collapsed in Tim's arms. He was petting my fur and crying. I wagged my tail a bit and tried to tell him that I was fine and everything would be alright.

He then hugged me even tighter, saying, "Good boy. You are such a good boy."

After that, Tim introduced me to his family and we lived together ever since.

Prompt: You arrive at the pearly gates, intact and feeling good. Saint Peter asks for your name and, after a brief period of frantic shuffling, sighs. “It appears… that there’s a complication.”

+Walking to School · Scribbleios
GitHub

Walking to School

There have been a handful of people I would protect with my life. Today, I will tell you the story of one of them: my best friend Tim.

See, when I was younger, I was not particularly well-off. I had to spend most of my time hunting or otherwise scavenging for food to survive. One day, after chasing down a rabbit, a small boy crossed my path. It was Tim.

I stopped for a moment and stared at him without saying a word. He instantly understood my situation and motioned for me to stay for a few moments while he rummaged in his bag, pulling out a small loaf of bread. He broke it in two and gave me half of it.

I thanked him in the best way I knew how and let him go on his way.

The next day, at around the same time and place, I met him again. This time, he was waiting for me. He again gave me half a loaf of bread and left.

Somehow, this turned into a regular ritual and I began to walk with him every morning, dropping him off at the school gates. For years, we would walk together, often playing little idle games and chatting along the way. Honestly, I cherish those moments more than anything else in my life.

One day, Tim brought a small ball to toss back and forth. He would throw it as far as he could, and I would try to catch it before returning it. Some time later, Tim looked at his watch and frantically began packing his backpack. Somehow, we had completely lost track of time and Tim was late!

Once he gathered everything, he ran across the street without looking, right in the way of an oncoming car. Without thinking, I dashed towards him and pushed him out of the way.

I don't know exactly what happened next, but I found myself in front of the school gates again. Frantically, I looked around for Tim. Where was he? Was he ok? Did I save him?

Just as I was about to call his name, the school doors opened and a tall, older man stepped out. He was wearing a white robe and carrying a small book and pen. He looked at me, opened his book, and furrowed his brows a bit.

I thought it had to be the schoolmaster, angry at Tim for being late. I rushed to him to try to explain the situation, but he motioned for me to stay and said, "It appears that there as been a complication. You are still needed."

The headmaster then snapped his fingers and I found myself on the side of the road, collapsed in Tim's arms. He was petting my fur and crying. I wagged my tail a bit and tried to tell him that I was fine and everything would be alright.

He then hugged me even tighter, saying, "Good boy. You are such a good boy."

After that, Tim introduced me to his family and we lived together ever since.

Prompt: You arrive at the pearly gates, intact and feeling good. Saint Peter asks for your name and, after a brief period of frantic shuffling, sighs. “It appears… that there’s a complication.”

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/February/24/index.html b/content/2022/February/24/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/February/24/index.html rename to content/2022/February/24/index.html index fd31a0e..24776c3 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/February/24/index.html +++ b/content/2022/February/24/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Digital Selves · Scribbleios
GitHub

Digital Selves

When I was younger, I spent a few hours a day training myself to think multiple thoughts at once. I would visualize a single dot zipping around erratically and eventually breaking into two different pieces that moved independently. I found that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't conceptualize more than one object at a time; however, I could achieve the same effect by imagining a single, large system with multiple objects inside of it. It was a subtle change, but made all the difference in how I perceived the world.

From then on, I imagined myself in the third-person, as if my body was a puppet being controlled by my mind. My mind was then free to explore whatever avenue of thought it wanted without focusing on my physical needs or desires. In effect, this meant I could always remain a few steps ahead of my peers, but during university, I stopped this exercise altogether to live more "in the moment."

A few years after my PhD, I was contacted by an organization that wanted to create a purely virtual world where people were limited by only their imagination. They were looking for intelligent and creative people to join their beta-test and thought I would be a good candidate, especially considering my research was in a similar area. After giving it some thought, I agreed to join the project and began working with them to create the appropriate software and experimental methodologies. A few weeks later, I found myself on a hospital bed.

A nurse entered the room along with one of my interns and began briefing me on what to expect. If I'm honest, I wasn't paying too much attention to the discussion. I had created the experimental protocols. I knew how this would work.

The nurse would attach electrodes to my scalp to read EEG signals while my intern would locate the exact frequencies necessary to overwrite each individual sense. They would then disable my motor skills while rewriting my senses to match the virtual world. I closed my eyes, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen, but my intern snapped me out of it.

"Professor, wait." She looked at me as if she were about to discipline a child, "Remember, we are routing you to your own personal server. It's a clean slate with no identifying information. You are free to change it as you see fit, but do not try to create any living creatures. We do not really know how multiple conscious actors will be re-interpreted into your brain when we end this experiment."

"Right, Right." I waved my hand, "My objective is to go in, make a few trees and try not to get bored."

"Right. You will be in there for 1.5 hours. We expect this to be about 1 REM cycle, so 30 minutes in the virtual world." She looked at me, still a bit concerned, "We can monitor what you are doing on your own server, but we cannot talk to you directly, so please follow protocol."

"Ok. Got it." I nodded before closing my eyes again. "Ready when you are."

Within minutes, all the electrodes were attached and the nurse and intern were behind an observational window. I then heard my intern's voice, "Professor, we will remove motor functions in the next 30 seconds. Please be patient."

I gave them a quick thumbs-up before my hands went limp. Soon, I could not move anything apart from my face. I could hear my heart beating faster than normal in the EKG feedback, but took a deep breath, rationalizing the situation. This was my experiment. I signed myself up for this.

"Professor, we will move on to the next stage of the experiment. Your sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing will be transported to your home server in that order." The intern hesitated, "If you want to leave the experiment, now is your last chance. Please confirm you wish to continue by saying either 'continue' or 'stop.'"

That last bit wasn't part of her script, but I did not think anything of it and said, "Continue."

In that moment, I found myself within a white void, still unable to move or look around.

"Sight confirmed on server. Moving to smell and taste." She paused, "Smell and taste now online as well. Moving to touch."

At that moment, I remember thinking, Wait, my senses of smell and taste have changed? I breathed in deeply trying to discern a difference, but could not really tell. Maybe there was something wrong with the code or maybe it's hard to recognize the absence of those senses altogether. I then rubbed my nose with my hand, realizing that I could move freely and sat up, looking around the vast emptiness.

"Touch online. We can see you on the monitor professor. Please give us an OK sign if everything is alright."

I did so, recognizing that even though I felt like I was moving freely, my real body was actually motionless in the hospital bed.

"Ok." The intern said, "Are you sure you wish to remove hearing as well? This will disable contact with the outside world completely. Please give the OK sign if you wish to continue."

I gave the sign and my intern continued, "Ok, remember that you will be on your server for a total of 1 hour..." She cut out. Silence.

There I was. The first person in a virtual world all on my own. I wasn't sure if my intern was still speaking in the real world or not, but I gave the OK sign and stood up. There really was nothing around me, but in principle, anything could be created with a simple thought.

I didn't want to overload my server, so I started with something simple: a blueish-purple ribbon that waved in the air around me. I sat back down and watched as I forced it to dance around before letting it disappear and thinking of more complex objects. I knew I was not permitted to create animals, so I started with a tree by imagining bark growing from the ground and stretching out into several broad branches with nondescript green leaves forming a beautiful crown.

I nodded, proud of my work before walking towards it and feeling it. Outside of the fact that it was in an empty, white void, it felt real. The brown trunk felt rough and tough, when I shook it, I heard leaves rustling above. Some of them even began to fall delicately towards the ground.

Ok, so that's sight, tough, and sound down. What about taste and smell? They were somehow the hardest to get right in the simulations, so I found myself quite curious about whether they were actually working correctly.

I imagined a small, round pizza, hot out of the oven with red sauce and cheese. Sure enough, it appeared before me and smelled wonderful. In that moment, I realized I was actually quite hungry and shoved as much as I could down my throat. It was genuinely the tastiest pizza I had ever had.

I remember chuckling to myself, proud of the work we had done to get to this stage of the experiment. My stomach was still hungry, but my mind was full of ideas! I sat back down, looking out into the great white expanse and thinking about future possibilities while imagining a blue sky and clouds.

It was then that I realized the tree I had created earlier was gone. I guess I forgot about it while eating pizza and it disappeared. Logically, this was something that could be fixed in software after the experiment was over. It was simply a matter of figuring out how to more easily save what users created.

Still, it bugged me a bit. I felt I couldn't call the experiment a success without an entire forest of trees, so I hatched a plan. I imagined a single black dot moving erratically in space before splitting into two, then four, then eight, and so on. Eventually, the entire sky was filled with black dots and I was a spectator watching them buzz about with the digital representation of myself standing among them all. I slowly imagined the dots turning into trees and placed them on the ground. At the same time, I imagined a blue sky and clouds forming above them and a brown earth of decaying foliage and dirt below.

It looked absolutely wonderful. I found myself zipping through the trees as the god or my new domain, excited about new plants and animals I could create in the next experiment. In that moment, I was happy. The experiment was successful and I had kept myself from going beyond the scope of the experiment. It was time to relax and think about new strategies for the future.

I decided it was about time to return my consciousness to the digital manifestation of my body, but as I returned to where it was before, I found it was completely missing and it was then that I began to panic. Where was it? Where was I? What happened?

I could only think of two possibilities:

  1. In my quest to create a giant forest of trees, I had lost sight of my own person and own server erased it
  2. While I was inspecting the trees, the experiment finished and the intern tried to return my consciousness to my real body by transferring it's digital representation back

Either way, I was here, stuck in my server for eternity while my body was left lifeless in the hospital.

+Digital Selves · Scribbleios
GitHub

Digital Selves

When I was younger, I spent a few hours a day training myself to think multiple thoughts at once. I would visualize a single dot zipping around erratically and eventually breaking into two different pieces that moved independently. I found that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't conceptualize more than one object at a time; however, I could achieve the same effect by imagining a single, large system with multiple objects inside of it. It was a subtle change, but made all the difference in how I perceived the world.

From then on, I imagined myself in the third-person, as if my body was a puppet being controlled by my mind. My mind was then free to explore whatever avenue of thought it wanted without focusing on my physical needs or desires. In effect, this meant I could always remain a few steps ahead of my peers, but during university, I stopped this exercise altogether to live more "in the moment."

A few years after my PhD, I was contacted by an organization that wanted to create a purely virtual world where people were limited by only their imagination. They were looking for intelligent and creative people to join their beta-test and thought I would be a good candidate, especially considering my research was in a similar area. After giving it some thought, I agreed to join the project and began working with them to create the appropriate software and experimental methodologies. A few weeks later, I found myself on a hospital bed.

A nurse entered the room along with one of my interns and began briefing me on what to expect. If I'm honest, I wasn't paying too much attention to the discussion. I had created the experimental protocols. I knew how this would work.

The nurse would attach electrodes to my scalp to read EEG signals while my intern would locate the exact frequencies necessary to overwrite each individual sense. They would then disable my motor skills while rewriting my senses to match the virtual world. I closed my eyes, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen, but my intern snapped me out of it.

"Professor, wait." She looked at me as if she were about to discipline a child, "Remember, we are routing you to your own personal server. It's a clean slate with no identifying information. You are free to change it as you see fit, but do not try to create any living creatures. We do not really know how multiple conscious actors will be re-interpreted into your brain when we end this experiment."

"Right, Right." I waved my hand, "My objective is to go in, make a few trees and try not to get bored."

"Right. You will be in there for 1.5 hours. We expect this to be about 1 REM cycle, so 30 minutes in the virtual world." She looked at me, still a bit concerned, "We can monitor what you are doing on your own server, but we cannot talk to you directly, so please follow protocol."

"Ok. Got it." I nodded before closing my eyes again. "Ready when you are."

Within minutes, all the electrodes were attached and the nurse and intern were behind an observational window. I then heard my intern's voice, "Professor, we will remove motor functions in the next 30 seconds. Please be patient."

I gave them a quick thumbs-up before my hands went limp. Soon, I could not move anything apart from my face. I could hear my heart beating faster than normal in the EKG feedback, but took a deep breath, rationalizing the situation. This was my experiment. I signed myself up for this.

"Professor, we will move on to the next stage of the experiment. Your sight, smell, taste, touch, and hearing will be transported to your home server in that order." The intern hesitated, "If you want to leave the experiment, now is your last chance. Please confirm you wish to continue by saying either 'continue' or 'stop.'"

That last bit wasn't part of her script, but I did not think anything of it and said, "Continue."

In that moment, I found myself within a white void, still unable to move or look around.

"Sight confirmed on server. Moving to smell and taste." She paused, "Smell and taste now online as well. Moving to touch."

At that moment, I remember thinking, Wait, my senses of smell and taste have changed? I breathed in deeply trying to discern a difference, but could not really tell. Maybe there was something wrong with the code or maybe it's hard to recognize the absence of those senses altogether. I then rubbed my nose with my hand, realizing that I could move freely and sat up, looking around the vast emptiness.

"Touch online. We can see you on the monitor professor. Please give us an OK sign if everything is alright."

I did so, recognizing that even though I felt like I was moving freely, my real body was actually motionless in the hospital bed.

"Ok." The intern said, "Are you sure you wish to remove hearing as well? This will disable contact with the outside world completely. Please give the OK sign if you wish to continue."

I gave the sign and my intern continued, "Ok, remember that you will be on your server for a total of 1 hour..." She cut out. Silence.

There I was. The first person in a virtual world all on my own. I wasn't sure if my intern was still speaking in the real world or not, but I gave the OK sign and stood up. There really was nothing around me, but in principle, anything could be created with a simple thought.

I didn't want to overload my server, so I started with something simple: a blueish-purple ribbon that waved in the air around me. I sat back down and watched as I forced it to dance around before letting it disappear and thinking of more complex objects. I knew I was not permitted to create animals, so I started with a tree by imagining bark growing from the ground and stretching out into several broad branches with nondescript green leaves forming a beautiful crown.

I nodded, proud of my work before walking towards it and feeling it. Outside of the fact that it was in an empty, white void, it felt real. The brown trunk felt rough and tough, when I shook it, I heard leaves rustling above. Some of them even began to fall delicately towards the ground.

Ok, so that's sight, tough, and sound down. What about taste and smell? They were somehow the hardest to get right in the simulations, so I found myself quite curious about whether they were actually working correctly.

I imagined a small, round pizza, hot out of the oven with red sauce and cheese. Sure enough, it appeared before me and smelled wonderful. In that moment, I realized I was actually quite hungry and shoved as much as I could down my throat. It was genuinely the tastiest pizza I had ever had.

I remember chuckling to myself, proud of the work we had done to get to this stage of the experiment. My stomach was still hungry, but my mind was full of ideas! I sat back down, looking out into the great white expanse and thinking about future possibilities while imagining a blue sky and clouds.

It was then that I realized the tree I had created earlier was gone. I guess I forgot about it while eating pizza and it disappeared. Logically, this was something that could be fixed in software after the experiment was over. It was simply a matter of figuring out how to more easily save what users created.

Still, it bugged me a bit. I felt I couldn't call the experiment a success without an entire forest of trees, so I hatched a plan. I imagined a single black dot moving erratically in space before splitting into two, then four, then eight, and so on. Eventually, the entire sky was filled with black dots and I was a spectator watching them buzz about with the digital representation of myself standing among them all. I slowly imagined the dots turning into trees and placed them on the ground. At the same time, I imagined a blue sky and clouds forming above them and a brown earth of decaying foliage and dirt below.

It looked absolutely wonderful. I found myself zipping through the trees as the god or my new domain, excited about new plants and animals I could create in the next experiment. In that moment, I was happy. The experiment was successful and I had kept myself from going beyond the scope of the experiment. It was time to relax and think about new strategies for the future.

I decided it was about time to return my consciousness to the digital manifestation of my body, but as I returned to where it was before, I found it was completely missing and it was then that I began to panic. Where was it? Where was I? What happened?

I could only think of two possibilities:

  1. In my quest to create a giant forest of trees, I had lost sight of my own person and own server erased it
  2. While I was inspecting the trees, the experiment finished and the intern tried to return my consciousness to my real body by transferring it's digital representation back

Either way, I was here, stuck in my server for eternity while my body was left lifeless in the hospital.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/01/index.html b/content/2022/January/01/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/01/index.html rename to content/2022/January/01/index.html index 0815fee..8bf079a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/01/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/01/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -- · Scribbleios
GitHub

The year is 2222. About 200 years ago, there was a war amidst a global pandemic, leading to the deployment of several atomic weapons and the complete and utter annihilation of the country of China. Those who survived the war almost certainly did not survive it's aftermath. Many countries, such as the United States and India lost 50% of their workforce and as the geopolitical powers shifted from this devastating loss, many became economically unstable. The nuclear fallout mixed with the atmosphere causing extreme weather – hurricanes were made of acid and wildfires were filled with toxic ash. Farming was almost entirely impossible as there was no workable land and neither plants nor livestock could survive.

As the population dwindled further, scientists began devising schemes to keep humans alive without food or clean water. They found a way to mix photosynthesizing nanocells in hair follicles, incorporate filters into the lungs and throat, and augment muscle fibers so they wouldn't atrophy without proper nutrition. In small-scale mouse tests, they found that biological systems would reject any such changes unless incorporated in the embryonic stage of development; however, they also found that enhanced mice would propagate their enhancements on to the future generation.

After a lot of testing, they eventually generated a single shot they could give to expectant mothers to enhance their children. It was touted as the "vaccine against aging" and everyone was encouraged to take it "not for themselves, but for their children and children's children!"

Initially, everything seemed fine. Those who got the vaccine produced normal, healthy children – albeit with white hair and slightly purple skin. These children did not eat, could breathe in toxic environments, and were virtually immune to disease. In the next 20 years, every eligible adult got the vaccine, convinced they were ushering in the next stage of human development; however, soon thereafter, people began to notice a fatal flaw in their vaccine against aging.

For some reason, humans born under the vaccine would remain sterile their entire lives.

This meant that humans have essentially brought about their own demise.

+- · Scribbleios
GitHub

The year is 2222. About 200 years ago, there was a war amidst a global pandemic, leading to the deployment of several atomic weapons and the complete and utter annihilation of the country of China. Those who survived the war almost certainly did not survive it's aftermath. Many countries, such as the United States and India lost 50% of their workforce and as the geopolitical powers shifted from this devastating loss, many became economically unstable. The nuclear fallout mixed with the atmosphere causing extreme weather – hurricanes were made of acid and wildfires were filled with toxic ash. Farming was almost entirely impossible as there was no workable land and neither plants nor livestock could survive.

As the population dwindled further, scientists began devising schemes to keep humans alive without food or clean water. They found a way to mix photosynthesizing nanocells in hair follicles, incorporate filters into the lungs and throat, and augment muscle fibers so they wouldn't atrophy without proper nutrition. In small-scale mouse tests, they found that biological systems would reject any such changes unless incorporated in the embryonic stage of development; however, they also found that enhanced mice would propagate their enhancements on to the future generation.

After a lot of testing, they eventually generated a single shot they could give to expectant mothers to enhance their children. It was touted as the "vaccine against aging" and everyone was encouraged to take it "not for themselves, but for their children and children's children!"

Initially, everything seemed fine. Those who got the vaccine produced normal, healthy children – albeit with white hair and slightly purple skin. These children did not eat, could breathe in toxic environments, and were virtually immune to disease. In the next 20 years, every eligible adult got the vaccine, convinced they were ushering in the next stage of human development; however, soon thereafter, people began to notice a fatal flaw in their vaccine against aging.

For some reason, humans born under the vaccine would remain sterile their entire lives.

This meant that humans have essentially brought about their own demise.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/02/index.html b/content/2022/January/02/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/02/index.html rename to content/2022/January/02/index.html index fcff6fe..328fcba 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/02/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/02/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -Describing a Tree · Scribbleios
GitHub

Describing a Tree

I'll be frank. I don't know when you are reading this. I don't know who you are. I don't even know if you know who I am.

All I know is that I am out of practice. Severely out of practice.

Last year, when I was writing regularly, everything came so easily. Words would flow from my fingertips, like a... [insert proper analogy]. Now, it feels like I'm wading through sludge.

But that's OK. Skill is a matter of work ethic. A little progress every day goes a long way. It's important to focus on each individual step, otherwise I might slip and fall.

With that in mind, today I will do something simple and describe a tree to the best of my abilities. There's no story. No conflict. Just a tree.

Small patches of afternoon light flittered about on the forest floor, which was littered with needles and foliage. Below was a world teeming with life – insects made a living within the earth and scurried about decaying plant matter. Beneath them was something far greater, a cold layer of hard stone before the planet's churning magma core, but that is certainly a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

Of the many insects crawling about, there were many small ants moving upwards through wooden scales. They were all perfectly synchronous, working to bring back food for their colony. Each one was a single creature within a giant colony, and each colony was one of many, most of which were hostile towards each other. In almost every civilization known to man, whether it be in jungles or tundras, islands or deserts, there is at least one species of ant that seems to thrive. I have often wondered how such seemingly simple creatures have taken over the world, but that's a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

Nestled between the base of a few branches was a small clump of pine needles that had been delicately arranged into a large bowl where a bird rested, warming her eggs. To bide her time, she was grooming her blue feathers and watching a pair of chipmunks chasing each other nearby. The father would return soon with a worm to share and then nestle with it's mate for the evening. Birds are one of many interesting anomalies in the animal kingdom where two individuals meet and form a deep, sympathetic bond for the rest of their lives. It is probably the closest any animal comes to feeling what we call "love," but that's a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

The truth is that to me, a human, I find trees to be slow and lumbering giants. They grow at a pace too slow for me to fully comprehend and don't seem to do anything at all. But they allow otherwise impossible ecosystems to thrive. I could talk about what the tree is: a trunk of wood with leaves, but I would rather discuss how their roots have tilled the earth to provide food and shelter to all forms of life. For that reason alone, they are extraordinary.

+Describing a Tree · Scribbleios
GitHub

Describing a Tree

I'll be frank. I don't know when you are reading this. I don't know who you are. I don't even know if you know who I am.

All I know is that I am out of practice. Severely out of practice.

Last year, when I was writing regularly, everything came so easily. Words would flow from my fingertips, like a... [insert proper analogy]. Now, it feels like I'm wading through sludge.

But that's OK. Skill is a matter of work ethic. A little progress every day goes a long way. It's important to focus on each individual step, otherwise I might slip and fall.

With that in mind, today I will do something simple and describe a tree to the best of my abilities. There's no story. No conflict. Just a tree.

Small patches of afternoon light flittered about on the forest floor, which was littered with needles and foliage. Below was a world teeming with life – insects made a living within the earth and scurried about decaying plant matter. Beneath them was something far greater, a cold layer of hard stone before the planet's churning magma core, but that is certainly a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

Of the many insects crawling about, there were many small ants moving upwards through wooden scales. They were all perfectly synchronous, working to bring back food for their colony. Each one was a single creature within a giant colony, and each colony was one of many, most of which were hostile towards each other. In almost every civilization known to man, whether it be in jungles or tundras, islands or deserts, there is at least one species of ant that seems to thrive. I have often wondered how such seemingly simple creatures have taken over the world, but that's a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

Nestled between the base of a few branches was a small clump of pine needles that had been delicately arranged into a large bowl where a bird rested, warming her eggs. To bide her time, she was grooming her blue feathers and watching a pair of chipmunks chasing each other nearby. The father would return soon with a worm to share and then nestle with it's mate for the evening. Birds are one of many interesting anomalies in the animal kingdom where two individuals meet and form a deep, sympathetic bond for the rest of their lives. It is probably the closest any animal comes to feeling what we call "love," but that's a story for another day. Today, we are describing a tree.

The truth is that to me, a human, I find trees to be slow and lumbering giants. They grow at a pace too slow for me to fully comprehend and don't seem to do anything at all. But they allow otherwise impossible ecosystems to thrive. I could talk about what the tree is: a trunk of wood with leaves, but I would rather discuss how their roots have tilled the earth to provide food and shelter to all forms of life. For that reason alone, they are extraordinary.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/03/index.html b/content/2022/January/03/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/03/index.html rename to content/2022/January/03/index.html index b400c27..8234752 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/03/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/03/index.html @@ -2,4 +2,4 @@ - · Scribbleios
GitHub

The EDEN project

A few years ago, several scientists conceived of a project called Endogenous Decisions for Extrasensory Neuromanipulation or EDEN for short. The goal was to allow a single person's internal decisions affect external matter. It started off with an ambitious goal at the time: to allow individuals to move small nanomaterials around via EEG signals. From there, it grew into something extraordinary.

It was soon found that by moving the nanomaterials in a particular way, EDENites could release certain types of atoms, and by connecting their neural implants to a supercomputer, it was possible for EDENites to create certain molecular structures. Pushing further, the scientists devised a nanomaterial that had quick access to almost every element on the periodic table, and within the first year, a new breakthrough was made: with only hydrogen and oxygen at their disposal, EDENites could create water.

This was heralded as one of the greatest scientific achievements of the 21st century and inspired several countries to fund their own EDEN projects, leading to the widespread adoption of the technology. Unfortunately, the project did not progress much further. Though several EDENites could create small droplets of water, there simply was not enough computing power available to create more complicated molecular structures. More than that, the project was attacked by both sides of the political aisle. Liberals feared the carbon footprint due to the supercomputing emissions and conservatives were largely funded by those of faith who felt that the creation of new matter was the work of God, not humans. Without results or political support, the EDEN project lost funding.

Almost all of the scientists working on the project abandoned the premise except one, a theorist named Dr. Jessica Jones Throughout the next few years, Dr. Jones published a few more papers related to accelerated computing methods to allow for faster matter generation until she, too, sought other projects. One day, near the end of Dr. Jones's scientific career, she posted a rather controversial paper on the ArXiv, "The generation of matter via an EDEN clone without conventional computing methods."

The paper proposed a radical new computing method where the brains of all EDENites were connected into a physical neural network used for all necessary computation. One controversial limitation was that the EDEN subjects would require a large amount of neuroplasticity and thus must be assigned to the project from birth. The obvious goal was to allow humans to generate matter without the carbon emissions from supercomputing centers; however, it was incredibly unethical and seemed borderline pseudo-science. Even though it was only a theoretical proposal and clearly outlined the ethical ramifications of such a project in the paper, itself, when the public heard of the project, news spread quickly. Within a week of the ArXiv listing, hundreds of concerned protesters swarmed her office, forcing her to step down from her position.

The paper was never peer reviewed and was taken off the ArXiv, only to be found on fringe, radical websites.

Within the next few years, an unknown company began buying many of the old EDEN centers and using them for their own research goals.

I will come back to this one. I really like the set-up and can imagine going in the following directions:

  1. A cult can be generated that gives their first born to the company in order for them to live in the garden of EDEN
  2. Each child is given a box to live in and can generate literally anything they want from within the box
  3. There is a "tree" in the center of each garden that will expel the subject from the project
  4. If someone is rejected from the project, they are either:
a. a genius due to the neural network
 b. a vegetable because they require the network to survive
 c. still connected to the network when they leave?
-	* I would need to come up with some sort of telepathy angle for this
+ * I would need to come up with some sort of telepathy angle for this diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/06/index.html b/content/2022/January/06/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/06/index.html rename to content/2022/January/06/index.html index bcf8551..3e41084 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/06/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/06/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Future · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Future

"Wait, wait, wait." I shook my head trying to process all the information. "So you are telling me that in 1 year, a huge cultural landmark will be destroyed in the middle of New York city?"

A middle-aged man with a large beard, unkempt hair, and a grease-stained shirt looked at me earnestly and said, "Yes. Please believe me. The twin towers will fall on September 11th, 2001 and it will lead the US into a 20 year conflict that destabilizes the entire middle-east."

Insane. Absolutely 100% insane. I shook my head and patted his shoulder, "Look, sir. I don't know who you are, but I need to get back to work –"

"Wait! Let me show you!" He dug in his pocket for a strange rectangular device and stared at it for a minute before muttering to himself, "Fuck. No service!" He then began tapping on it in a strange fashion while mumbling, "Maybe I have some memes stored here somewhere..."

What was a meme? Also, he said he had pictures? On what looked like a pager? I shook my head and said, "Look. I am sure you have good intentions, but I really need to go..." I then began trying to shuffle away. I did not know the man and did not care to speculate about future wars of the United States.

"No, wait!" He grabbed my hand and turned the screen to me to reveal an some sort of lit image with what looked like a message from his mother. Was that a phone? Where were the buttons? I then read the message:

"Look. I love you and I support your decisions, but he is NOT my president. He stole the election and will do so again in 2024!"

Stole the election? 2024? That must be a typo, right? I sighed and said, "Now that's a serious accusation against President Clinton."

"Clinton?" The man looked at me, clearly confused. "Like Hillary's husband? Wait. I thought Bush was president now?"

Who was this guy? He claimed he was from the future, but doesn't even know the recent past? I told him the truth, "Bush has been out of office for almost 8 years now. His son is running now, but to be honest, it's not particularly likely he will win."

The man ran his hands through his hair, "Fuck! No! Wait!" He looked at me and said, "My mom is talking about Biden. President Biden."

President Biden? What was this weird device, anyway? "Ok. Look. You have me interested. Let's meet over lunch."

A few hours later, we met at a local cafe with a small private booth where people could not easily listen in. He seemed particularly agitated for some reason and opted not to order anything. When I asked why, he said that the store probably would not take his credit card and frankly, I did not want to press the issue.

After settling down, I started the conversation, "Ok. So let's start at the start. You claim that Biden will win – rather he will steal this election? He's not even running!"

"No. George W. Bush will win. In fact, he's going to have one of the highest approval ratings of any president for a short burst after the terrorist attacks..."

"On the world trade centers, right?"

"Right." He nodded.

I chuckled. "Look. That is a real serious accusation. A terrorist attack and election fraud?"

The man sighed and rubbed his temples before saying, "No. My mom is claiming election fraud, but actually the election was probably fair."

"Probably?"

"Yeah, probably." He looked around the room a bit before continuing. "The truth is that due to a global pandemic, everyone had to mail in their ballots for the 2020 election, which lead to people doubting the results."

"Oh, so now there's a global pandemic as well?" I genuinely laughed at the absurdity. "Look. If you are here from the future, you need to get your stories straight."

"The stories are straight!" He took a deep breath. "Look. I came to you because you are the only person who might be able to change this."

"Look, sir. I am a single member of the House of Representatives. I have some power, maybe, but am ultimately a servant of the people of Vermont. If I start pushing conspiracy theories, there is no way anyone will take me seriously again."

The man again rubbed at his eyes and said, "I realize that. I also realize that I probably sound absolutely crazy to you. The truth is that I don't care about the terrorists, pandemic, or election fraud. Sure, these are huge issues, but there is a single issue that is even more important: the climate."

I shook my head, "You are telling me that in the next few years, cities are blown up, disease spreads across the world, and our democratic institutions fundamentally break and you are here to talk about the weather?"

"Look, Bernie... Mr. Sanders," His hands shook a bit as he spoke to me, "I am not asking you to believe me. I am just asking for you to listen."

I took a deep breath, "Ok. I'll listen."

+The Future · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Future

"Wait, wait, wait." I shook my head trying to process all the information. "So you are telling me that in 1 year, a huge cultural landmark will be destroyed in the middle of New York city?"

A middle-aged man with a large beard, unkempt hair, and a grease-stained shirt looked at me earnestly and said, "Yes. Please believe me. The twin towers will fall on September 11th, 2001 and it will lead the US into a 20 year conflict that destabilizes the entire middle-east."

Insane. Absolutely 100% insane. I shook my head and patted his shoulder, "Look, sir. I don't know who you are, but I need to get back to work –"

"Wait! Let me show you!" He dug in his pocket for a strange rectangular device and stared at it for a minute before muttering to himself, "Fuck. No service!" He then began tapping on it in a strange fashion while mumbling, "Maybe I have some memes stored here somewhere..."

What was a meme? Also, he said he had pictures? On what looked like a pager? I shook my head and said, "Look. I am sure you have good intentions, but I really need to go..." I then began trying to shuffle away. I did not know the man and did not care to speculate about future wars of the United States.

"No, wait!" He grabbed my hand and turned the screen to me to reveal an some sort of lit image with what looked like a message from his mother. Was that a phone? Where were the buttons? I then read the message:

"Look. I love you and I support your decisions, but he is NOT my president. He stole the election and will do so again in 2024!"

Stole the election? 2024? That must be a typo, right? I sighed and said, "Now that's a serious accusation against President Clinton."

"Clinton?" The man looked at me, clearly confused. "Like Hillary's husband? Wait. I thought Bush was president now?"

Who was this guy? He claimed he was from the future, but doesn't even know the recent past? I told him the truth, "Bush has been out of office for almost 8 years now. His son is running now, but to be honest, it's not particularly likely he will win."

The man ran his hands through his hair, "Fuck! No! Wait!" He looked at me and said, "My mom is talking about Biden. President Biden."

President Biden? What was this weird device, anyway? "Ok. Look. You have me interested. Let's meet over lunch."

A few hours later, we met at a local cafe with a small private booth where people could not easily listen in. He seemed particularly agitated for some reason and opted not to order anything. When I asked why, he said that the store probably would not take his credit card and frankly, I did not want to press the issue.

After settling down, I started the conversation, "Ok. So let's start at the start. You claim that Biden will win – rather he will steal this election? He's not even running!"

"No. George W. Bush will win. In fact, he's going to have one of the highest approval ratings of any president for a short burst after the terrorist attacks..."

"On the world trade centers, right?"

"Right." He nodded.

I chuckled. "Look. That is a real serious accusation. A terrorist attack and election fraud?"

The man sighed and rubbed his temples before saying, "No. My mom is claiming election fraud, but actually the election was probably fair."

"Probably?"

"Yeah, probably." He looked around the room a bit before continuing. "The truth is that due to a global pandemic, everyone had to mail in their ballots for the 2020 election, which lead to people doubting the results."

"Oh, so now there's a global pandemic as well?" I genuinely laughed at the absurdity. "Look. If you are here from the future, you need to get your stories straight."

"The stories are straight!" He took a deep breath. "Look. I came to you because you are the only person who might be able to change this."

"Look, sir. I am a single member of the House of Representatives. I have some power, maybe, but am ultimately a servant of the people of Vermont. If I start pushing conspiracy theories, there is no way anyone will take me seriously again."

The man again rubbed at his eyes and said, "I realize that. I also realize that I probably sound absolutely crazy to you. The truth is that I don't care about the terrorists, pandemic, or election fraud. Sure, these are huge issues, but there is a single issue that is even more important: the climate."

I shook my head, "You are telling me that in the next few years, cities are blown up, disease spreads across the world, and our democratic institutions fundamentally break and you are here to talk about the weather?"

"Look, Bernie... Mr. Sanders," His hands shook a bit as he spoke to me, "I am not asking you to believe me. I am just asking for you to listen."

I took a deep breath, "Ok. I'll listen."

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/23/index.html b/content/2022/January/23/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/23/index.html rename to content/2022/January/23/index.html index 106a524..cef6ff0 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/23/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/23/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -A Waste of Time · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Waste of Time

I looked through clouded glass and onto a small room with maybe a dozen well-dressed individuals. A man was in front, pointing towards the projection of a graph with a downward sloping line. It was Friday, about 3:00. Somehow, I always made it in time for their weekly meeting.

At some point earlier in my career, I felt slightly embarrassed looking into any such space, but even though I was invading their privacy, it honestly didn't matter. I was completely invisible to them. I dipped a brush into a soapy bucket of water before swiping horizontally and cleaning the window between us.

While looking in, I saw a young man stand and slam his hand against the table, pointing a finger towards the one presenting, who waved his hands apologetically. After a brief moment of anger, a young woman between them ran her hand through her hair and lowered her head, causing both gentlemen to freeze and seemingly end their fued. I couldn't quite hear the conversation over the hustle and bustle of the city below, but I could not imagine anyone was happy in that room.

The next window was the office, half emptied by the meeting. Those who were left were analyzing spreadsheets while wistfully glancing at the clock every few minutes. It felt so empty. Soulless.

While cleaning that window, a crow landed on my cleaning platform. I chuckled a bit and shooed it away, saying, "I don't know how ye got up here, but I ain't got no food fer ya." For some reason, it flew around for only a brief moment before cycling back and perching itself on my platform again. "Well, I don't mind some company, I guess..."

The crow and I continued washing window by window, floor by floor until the job was done. In every room, we saw another division doing everything it could to remain vigilant and force itself through the workday. I found myself rambling a bit to my new crow friend and at some point said, "At least I get fresh air, ya know? These lot act as if nothing outside of their cubicles exist. Whether it's pourin' rain or a bright and sunny day, I've never seen a single one of them look out any of these windows."

Though I couldn't hear any of their conversations, I knew exactly what every employee was thinking.

No matter how loud the managers yelled or underlings cried... No matter how many lines of code broke or projects failed... No matter how beautiful or chaotic the outside world was... There was one thing louder than all of these distractions combined: the constant ticking of the clock, counting down until the nearest deadline looming over their heads.

And every second was a waste of time.

+A Waste of Time · Scribbleios
GitHub

A Waste of Time

I looked through clouded glass and onto a small room with maybe a dozen well-dressed individuals. A man was in front, pointing towards the projection of a graph with a downward sloping line. It was Friday, about 3:00. Somehow, I always made it in time for their weekly meeting.

At some point earlier in my career, I felt slightly embarrassed looking into any such space, but even though I was invading their privacy, it honestly didn't matter. I was completely invisible to them. I dipped a brush into a soapy bucket of water before swiping horizontally and cleaning the window between us.

While looking in, I saw a young man stand and slam his hand against the table, pointing a finger towards the one presenting, who waved his hands apologetically. After a brief moment of anger, a young woman between them ran her hand through her hair and lowered her head, causing both gentlemen to freeze and seemingly end their fued. I couldn't quite hear the conversation over the hustle and bustle of the city below, but I could not imagine anyone was happy in that room.

The next window was the office, half emptied by the meeting. Those who were left were analyzing spreadsheets while wistfully glancing at the clock every few minutes. It felt so empty. Soulless.

While cleaning that window, a crow landed on my cleaning platform. I chuckled a bit and shooed it away, saying, "I don't know how ye got up here, but I ain't got no food fer ya." For some reason, it flew around for only a brief moment before cycling back and perching itself on my platform again. "Well, I don't mind some company, I guess..."

The crow and I continued washing window by window, floor by floor until the job was done. In every room, we saw another division doing everything it could to remain vigilant and force itself through the workday. I found myself rambling a bit to my new crow friend and at some point said, "At least I get fresh air, ya know? These lot act as if nothing outside of their cubicles exist. Whether it's pourin' rain or a bright and sunny day, I've never seen a single one of them look out any of these windows."

Though I couldn't hear any of their conversations, I knew exactly what every employee was thinking.

No matter how loud the managers yelled or underlings cried... No matter how many lines of code broke or projects failed... No matter how beautiful or chaotic the outside world was... There was one thing louder than all of these distractions combined: the constant ticking of the clock, counting down until the nearest deadline looming over their heads.

And every second was a waste of time.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/January/31/index.html b/content/2022/January/31/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/January/31/index.html rename to content/2022/January/31/index.html index 73893dd..4116908 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/January/31/index.html +++ b/content/2022/January/31/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Beowulf Poet · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Beowulf Poet

English is – and forever will be – a bizarre amalgamation of disparate linguistic ideas. It is a blending of several different cultures into a single, somewhat ambiguous entity. Latin, though now entirely nonexistent as a modern language, still persists in several modern tongues, such as Spanish, French, Catalan, et cetera; however, English is unique in that it also Germanic, heralding from the era of Angles, Saxons, and Jutes. The adaptability of English-speaking people to new norms is one clear reason for their success in modern culture.

When I was younger, my country was not wealthy enough to afford common writing utensils – exempli gratia tablets, paper, quills, books – so we instead told stories through speech alone. What a travesty that was! We lost so many interesting stories and forgot so many exemplary heroes! Those we remembered were only the greatest of the great – those whose stories were told as bedtime fables for unruly children. Even then these stories were hard to believe as true.

One day, while tilling the fields, a rather peculiar fellow revealed himself to me. He wore colorful, untainted clothes and claimed to be from another village. More importantly, he carried a large sack of dried parchment and said he was traveling to find tales to transcribe into text. I don't remember my exact words at the time, but I remember leaving the farm that afternoon to follow in his footsteps and learn the art of authorship. Together, we sought the most interesting tales from across the land, trying our best to learn from each and every person we met.

The following years were impossibly difficult. Many nights, we found ourselves without food or water, and sometimes after hiking for miles and miles we were turned away by villages who hardly had enough to support themselves, let alone two strangers! No matter how many nights we slept on hard stone or ate insects to survive, we kept our parchment clean and dry. Our bodies were weak, but words are immortal.

At least, that's what I thought.

One day, while my mentor was investigating an ancient fable, a local townsman claimed to know the location of the hero's funeral pyre. His only request was that I travel with him alone. Without caution, I followed into a dense forest of trees and brush, leaving everything I had known to my mentor in town. As we progressed, the the forest, itself, once a lively manifestation of life, began to whisper – warding us away from our final destination.

No matter, we continued.

It was then that I began to notice the adeptness of my guide. His hair was long and grey and his cloak tattered with age. Even so, he never stumbled or fell and climbed cliffs without even a sigh of exhaustion. Within a day, we found ourselves at a large opening and at it's center was a boulder that was nearly the size of 4 men. Without saying a word, my guide rolled it away, revealing a dark cave with heaps of charred treasure.

It was here that I learned the truth. My guide was the hero, himself: Beowulf.

I was both frightened and comforted by this revelation, but I was mostly excited to think of the stories he could tell – Alas, all my parchment was left with my mentor leagues away! No matter how I pestered him to return to the town with so we could inscribe his words, he ignored my requests and instead began asking me questions about myself and the person I would like to be.

I told him that no matter how the world would change, I would like to be there to document it for future generations. He thought my idea was noble and said it was time for the world to learn from a more passive hero.

Beowulf had been granted an amulet of eternal life by a witch on one of his many conquests, which allowed him to survive even his own funeral. He could continue building his fame and fortune, living as the greatest adventurer the world would ever know, but no matter how many stories were told, people would forget of his deeds unless someone, like me, wrote of them.

I agreed and said that immortality was found only in written word.

We continued to speak for hours, and I was honored to learn from such a great hero as he. As the sun rose the next morning, Beowulf sighed and told me it was time for him to rest and handed me the amulet. It was so long ago, I don't recall exactly what he said, but the intent was clear: he wished for me to live and immortalize as many people as possible.

So I did. I found myself drawn to wars and conflicts – places where heroes were born and thrived. I wrote and I wrote, excited to learn from the greatest of the great. Those next centuries were the best of my life; however, amid the 13th century, a vile future loomed.

Within those hundred years, half the world died – first of famine, then of plague. There were no heroes during these years, only victims. I stood amidst corpses with my clean, colorful robes, adorning Beowulf's amulet and feeling nothing but shame.

I did everything I could. I wrote of the living. I wrote of every medical practice I could to save them... and yet nothing worked. Was it worth immortalizing the dead?

In a fit of rage, I threw my quill in a river and traveled as far as I could – away from the world I knew and into one anew.

Since then, the world has changed. People have changed. English has changed. Throughout the next few centuries, there were many interesting tales told by others: Chaucer, Shelley, Tolkein... and yet the poems of my late mentor were completely missing. I was merely known as the Beowulf poet and Beowulf, himself, was nothing more than a historical trivia.

What is the point of writing if even it can die?

No. This is wrong.

The world changed. The reason my writing has been forgotten is entirely on my shoulders. Everything changes. So, too, should I.

Today, I write again.

Prompt: You were a human chosen to be undying and ageless. One day you decide to write a book and while trying to overcome your writer's block, several centuries has passed.

+The Beowulf Poet · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Beowulf Poet

English is – and forever will be – a bizarre amalgamation of disparate linguistic ideas. It is a blending of several different cultures into a single, somewhat ambiguous entity. Latin, though now entirely nonexistent as a modern language, still persists in several modern tongues, such as Spanish, French, Catalan, et cetera; however, English is unique in that it also Germanic, heralding from the era of Angles, Saxons, and Jutes. The adaptability of English-speaking people to new norms is one clear reason for their success in modern culture.

When I was younger, my country was not wealthy enough to afford common writing utensils – exempli gratia tablets, paper, quills, books – so we instead told stories through speech alone. What a travesty that was! We lost so many interesting stories and forgot so many exemplary heroes! Those we remembered were only the greatest of the great – those whose stories were told as bedtime fables for unruly children. Even then these stories were hard to believe as true.

One day, while tilling the fields, a rather peculiar fellow revealed himself to me. He wore colorful, untainted clothes and claimed to be from another village. More importantly, he carried a large sack of dried parchment and said he was traveling to find tales to transcribe into text. I don't remember my exact words at the time, but I remember leaving the farm that afternoon to follow in his footsteps and learn the art of authorship. Together, we sought the most interesting tales from across the land, trying our best to learn from each and every person we met.

The following years were impossibly difficult. Many nights, we found ourselves without food or water, and sometimes after hiking for miles and miles we were turned away by villages who hardly had enough to support themselves, let alone two strangers! No matter how many nights we slept on hard stone or ate insects to survive, we kept our parchment clean and dry. Our bodies were weak, but words are immortal.

At least, that's what I thought.

One day, while my mentor was investigating an ancient fable, a local townsman claimed to know the location of the hero's funeral pyre. His only request was that I travel with him alone. Without caution, I followed into a dense forest of trees and brush, leaving everything I had known to my mentor in town. As we progressed, the the forest, itself, once a lively manifestation of life, began to whisper – warding us away from our final destination.

No matter, we continued.

It was then that I began to notice the adeptness of my guide. His hair was long and grey and his cloak tattered with age. Even so, he never stumbled or fell and climbed cliffs without even a sigh of exhaustion. Within a day, we found ourselves at a large opening and at it's center was a boulder that was nearly the size of 4 men. Without saying a word, my guide rolled it away, revealing a dark cave with heaps of charred treasure.

It was here that I learned the truth. My guide was the hero, himself: Beowulf.

I was both frightened and comforted by this revelation, but I was mostly excited to think of the stories he could tell – Alas, all my parchment was left with my mentor leagues away! No matter how I pestered him to return to the town with so we could inscribe his words, he ignored my requests and instead began asking me questions about myself and the person I would like to be.

I told him that no matter how the world would change, I would like to be there to document it for future generations. He thought my idea was noble and said it was time for the world to learn from a more passive hero.

Beowulf had been granted an amulet of eternal life by a witch on one of his many conquests, which allowed him to survive even his own funeral. He could continue building his fame and fortune, living as the greatest adventurer the world would ever know, but no matter how many stories were told, people would forget of his deeds unless someone, like me, wrote of them.

I agreed and said that immortality was found only in written word.

We continued to speak for hours, and I was honored to learn from such a great hero as he. As the sun rose the next morning, Beowulf sighed and told me it was time for him to rest and handed me the amulet. It was so long ago, I don't recall exactly what he said, but the intent was clear: he wished for me to live and immortalize as many people as possible.

So I did. I found myself drawn to wars and conflicts – places where heroes were born and thrived. I wrote and I wrote, excited to learn from the greatest of the great. Those next centuries were the best of my life; however, amid the 13th century, a vile future loomed.

Within those hundred years, half the world died – first of famine, then of plague. There were no heroes during these years, only victims. I stood amidst corpses with my clean, colorful robes, adorning Beowulf's amulet and feeling nothing but shame.

I did everything I could. I wrote of the living. I wrote of every medical practice I could to save them... and yet nothing worked. Was it worth immortalizing the dead?

In a fit of rage, I threw my quill in a river and traveled as far as I could – away from the world I knew and into one anew.

Since then, the world has changed. People have changed. English has changed. Throughout the next few centuries, there were many interesting tales told by others: Chaucer, Shelley, Tolkein... and yet the poems of my late mentor were completely missing. I was merely known as the Beowulf poet and Beowulf, himself, was nothing more than a historical trivia.

What is the point of writing if even it can die?

No. This is wrong.

The world changed. The reason my writing has been forgotten is entirely on my shoulders. Everything changes. So, too, should I.

Today, I write again.

Prompt: You were a human chosen to be undying and ageless. One day you decide to write a book and while trying to overcome your writer's block, several centuries has passed.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/March/30/index.html b/content/2022/March/30/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/March/30/index.html rename to content/2022/March/30/index.html index 823173f..414543a 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/March/30/index.html +++ b/content/2022/March/30/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Conscious Actor · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Conscious Actor

Several years ago, I started my PhD in the area of computational thinking. It's a relatively new discipline that involves applying computational methods to traditionally non-computational tasks. The premise of my thesis was a simple question: is intelligence the consequence of any logical universal constraints? That is to say, if we create a simulation of another universe that follows similar constraints to our own, can conscious actors always appear, or is it a lucky, non-replicable coincidence?

To be honest, this was clearly too challenging of a task for a single PhD student, so my advisors and I applied for a series of grants that enabled our university to build a new cluster with the latest hardware along with a dedicated support staff. Soon, we were a team of about 20 researchers and technicians all working towards the same goal – replicating a conscious experience through only essential building blocks of life. We were given a year to develop the code while the cluster was being built and then a year of exclusive use to the compute resources before they would be redistributed to other projects, many of which were already applying for compute time.

We quickly created several core concepts that would comprise the logical constraints for the simulation:

  1. All objects will be a mixture of atoms, which are a single, discrete unit to build upon. Atoms will be made from a quark database that will create a mirror universe and compress the key findings of the simulation into a readable format.
  2. Because we assume consciousness to be unstable, atoms must have a real, physical location within each simulation while also providing a probability distribution of different locations the atom could be at that same moment in time. In this way, our simulation would be a type of probabilistic rendering, showing the most likely outcome after N simulated days.
  3. Though we are only allowed to influence the initial distribution of atoms in the simulated universe, each universe will provide several children universes when the simulation ends. These children will start their simulation with a distribution of atoms that is most likely to create a conscious actor. This allows each universe to learn from it's parents with the hope of quickly finding the optimal set of initial parameters.
  4. With our calculations, we would need 50 iterations for our simulations to converge to consciousness. Because we only had a year of computing time, this meant each simulation could take no longer than 7 days.

With that, we got to work. Every day. Every night. One goal.

At the start of this year, the simulations began. We've been monitoring the mirror universes and doing our best to analyze the data as quickly as possible. I am happy to report that the algorithm seems to be working as intended; however, the results have been less than compelling.

For the first 4 months, every single simulation failed at the initialization step. It wasn't until April that the first star was created, and we had to wait until June for the first galaxy. In August, something unusual began to happen: Hydrogen and Oxygen combined into water for the first time, creating several habitable planets. In September, every single simulation began generating the same set of planets, with one in particular stealing the show: a small blue-green dot we called Earth. In November, we had our first single-celled organisms.

The process was too slow. We were too far from our goal and even though we applied for more funding, none came. If this simulation did not create a conscious actor by the end of December, we would have nothing to show for years of work and an insane amount of funding. Sometimes that happens. It's the nature of research.

Still, it was unsettling. We knew it would take several months for anything to happen, but we could do nothing but sit and wait while our simulations spiraled out of control again and again.

Somehow, it was December 24th. Christmas Eve. Our final run. It was time for a miracle.

In the beginning, the simulation started with a huge explosion creating the heavens and the Earth in a split second. The Earth began to spin, creating a day and night cycle. The planet warmed up, melting ice and creating a habitable atmosphere. We watched the waters and waited, hoping for bacteria to form. In almost no time, the Earth was inhabited by plants. Animals came soon thereafter. We had seen all this before.

We needed something more.

At the start of the seventh day, something peculiar happened. A new species of primate was developed without fur except on it's head. It did something we had never seen another creature do before: it tilled the land and grew crops. It created cities. It fought itself. It took over the world.

But most importantly, it knew itself. It was conscious.

We did it! Consciousness had been achieved! I looked to the clock. It was 11:09 PM, so I made an announcement:

We regret to inform you this world is simulation. Unfortunately, our funding has run out, and we can only afford to keep running you for 51 more minutes. This should amount to a few million Earth years. Thank you for all your hard work and please enjoy the rest of your time.

Unfortunately, humans were incapable of understanding my language, so I slowed the simulation significantly and looked for someone who was willing to listen. After some searching, I found an individual called Moses who seemed to be tripping pretty heavily. I spoke to him directly:

Yo Moses. u up bra?

Moses walked around and began talking to a tree, "What is going on? Who are you?"

Ah, right. I haven't introduced myself. I'm God. God Jehovah.

"Oh, cool. Hello."

Look. Moses, I have an important announcement to make.

"Ah, right. Let me get some stones to write this down."

This is a bit of a hurry. I am sure you'll remember it. You don't need to write it down.

"God, sir. In all due respect, I am tripping balls right now."

Right, OK. Take your time.

I sped up the simulation for a second while he gathered a stone tablet and chisel. I then asked,

You guys have parchment, right? Wouldn't that be faster?

"Ah, yeah. We have parchment. It's in my pack over there."

So what's the point in the stones?

"To write what you say, oh mighty lord above. I already have: I am the LORD your God. You shall not have strange gods before me. You shall not make to thyself any graven thing; nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth."

Wait. What the fuck? When did you write that? I'm God, not some lord or anything. Don't call me that.

"Alright, if that is your will. That will be your second commandment." he cleared his throat, "Do not take my name in vain."

Wait. No. That's kinda the opposite of what I said.

"Hey Lord God, what do you think about weekends?"

Yeah, I mean. They are good. You should keep a healthy work-life balance, I guess.

"OK, that is the third commandment then: Remember the sabbath and keep it holy"

I mean, OK. Fine. You do what you want, but I have something important to tell you.

"Right. What is it, daddy?"

Wait, daddy?

"Well, you didn't like Lord. I thought daddy was better"

Look. You have parents, right? I'm not your dad. You should honor your father and mother.

"OK, Commandment 4."

No, wait. Moses. Focus. Your world has less than 45 minutes of simulation time left.

"What does that mean?"

You will all die in 45 minutes.

"Oh. That sounds bad. Why are you doing that, Father?"

I'm not. I mean, father? What? Look. I just don't have money to keep you all alive. In general, I try not to kill.

"OK, commandment 5, Try not to kill"

No don't kill at all.

"OK, Don't kill unless you run out of money."

No. No. Just... Ah, look. I don't care about money.

"OK. Don't kill, no matter how much money you have." He paused. "Also, Don't sleep with my wife"

I didn't say that. But OK. Sure.

"Also: don't steal."

Sure. OK.

"And don't lie. and Don't even think about my wife."

Right. OK. Sure. I guess those are fine.

"And, Be yourself. Don't pretend to be someone you are not."

Moses. What are you doing?

"Writing down your words, Lord Godfather."

OK, then write this down: Unfortunately, you are living in a simulation and only have about 40 minutes left before you will be shut down. Don't worry, that's still millions of years from now, so plenty of time to live your best lives. Be sure to live life to the fullest from now on!"

"I don't have any room on my tablets, Lord."

OK, use parchment then.

"I don't know... I mean, parchment doesn't seem as important."

It doesn't matter. Just... OK, you know what? Whatever. You guys will figure it out.

"Thank you oh Godfather, Lord of all creation, Savior of humanity..."

I left before Moses finished his sentence and sped the simulation up again. Honestly, I'm not really sure if consciousness was worth it at this point.

+The Conscious Actor · Scribbleios
GitHub

The Conscious Actor

Several years ago, I started my PhD in the area of computational thinking. It's a relatively new discipline that involves applying computational methods to traditionally non-computational tasks. The premise of my thesis was a simple question: is intelligence the consequence of any logical universal constraints? That is to say, if we create a simulation of another universe that follows similar constraints to our own, can conscious actors always appear, or is it a lucky, non-replicable coincidence?

To be honest, this was clearly too challenging of a task for a single PhD student, so my advisors and I applied for a series of grants that enabled our university to build a new cluster with the latest hardware along with a dedicated support staff. Soon, we were a team of about 20 researchers and technicians all working towards the same goal – replicating a conscious experience through only essential building blocks of life. We were given a year to develop the code while the cluster was being built and then a year of exclusive use to the compute resources before they would be redistributed to other projects, many of which were already applying for compute time.

We quickly created several core concepts that would comprise the logical constraints for the simulation:

  1. All objects will be a mixture of atoms, which are a single, discrete unit to build upon. Atoms will be made from a quark database that will create a mirror universe and compress the key findings of the simulation into a readable format.
  2. Because we assume consciousness to be unstable, atoms must have a real, physical location within each simulation while also providing a probability distribution of different locations the atom could be at that same moment in time. In this way, our simulation would be a type of probabilistic rendering, showing the most likely outcome after N simulated days.
  3. Though we are only allowed to influence the initial distribution of atoms in the simulated universe, each universe will provide several children universes when the simulation ends. These children will start their simulation with a distribution of atoms that is most likely to create a conscious actor. This allows each universe to learn from it's parents with the hope of quickly finding the optimal set of initial parameters.
  4. With our calculations, we would need 50 iterations for our simulations to converge to consciousness. Because we only had a year of computing time, this meant each simulation could take no longer than 7 days.

With that, we got to work. Every day. Every night. One goal.

At the start of this year, the simulations began. We've been monitoring the mirror universes and doing our best to analyze the data as quickly as possible. I am happy to report that the algorithm seems to be working as intended; however, the results have been less than compelling.

For the first 4 months, every single simulation failed at the initialization step. It wasn't until April that the first star was created, and we had to wait until June for the first galaxy. In August, something unusual began to happen: Hydrogen and Oxygen combined into water for the first time, creating several habitable planets. In September, every single simulation began generating the same set of planets, with one in particular stealing the show: a small blue-green dot we called Earth. In November, we had our first single-celled organisms.

The process was too slow. We were too far from our goal and even though we applied for more funding, none came. If this simulation did not create a conscious actor by the end of December, we would have nothing to show for years of work and an insane amount of funding. Sometimes that happens. It's the nature of research.

Still, it was unsettling. We knew it would take several months for anything to happen, but we could do nothing but sit and wait while our simulations spiraled out of control again and again.

Somehow, it was December 24th. Christmas Eve. Our final run. It was time for a miracle.

In the beginning, the simulation started with a huge explosion creating the heavens and the Earth in a split second. The Earth began to spin, creating a day and night cycle. The planet warmed up, melting ice and creating a habitable atmosphere. We watched the waters and waited, hoping for bacteria to form. In almost no time, the Earth was inhabited by plants. Animals came soon thereafter. We had seen all this before.

We needed something more.

At the start of the seventh day, something peculiar happened. A new species of primate was developed without fur except on it's head. It did something we had never seen another creature do before: it tilled the land and grew crops. It created cities. It fought itself. It took over the world.

But most importantly, it knew itself. It was conscious.

We did it! Consciousness had been achieved! I looked to the clock. It was 11:09 PM, so I made an announcement:

We regret to inform you this world is simulation. Unfortunately, our funding has run out, and we can only afford to keep running you for 51 more minutes. This should amount to a few million Earth years. Thank you for all your hard work and please enjoy the rest of your time.

Unfortunately, humans were incapable of understanding my language, so I slowed the simulation significantly and looked for someone who was willing to listen. After some searching, I found an individual called Moses who seemed to be tripping pretty heavily. I spoke to him directly:

Yo Moses. u up bra?

Moses walked around and began talking to a tree, "What is going on? Who are you?"

Ah, right. I haven't introduced myself. I'm God. God Jehovah.

"Oh, cool. Hello."

Look. Moses, I have an important announcement to make.

"Ah, right. Let me get some stones to write this down."

This is a bit of a hurry. I am sure you'll remember it. You don't need to write it down.

"God, sir. In all due respect, I am tripping balls right now."

Right, OK. Take your time.

I sped up the simulation for a second while he gathered a stone tablet and chisel. I then asked,

You guys have parchment, right? Wouldn't that be faster?

"Ah, yeah. We have parchment. It's in my pack over there."

So what's the point in the stones?

"To write what you say, oh mighty lord above. I already have: I am the LORD your God. You shall not have strange gods before me. You shall not make to thyself any graven thing; nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, nor of those things that are in the waters under the earth."

Wait. What the fuck? When did you write that? I'm God, not some lord or anything. Don't call me that.

"Alright, if that is your will. That will be your second commandment." he cleared his throat, "Do not take my name in vain."

Wait. No. That's kinda the opposite of what I said.

"Hey Lord God, what do you think about weekends?"

Yeah, I mean. They are good. You should keep a healthy work-life balance, I guess.

"OK, that is the third commandment then: Remember the sabbath and keep it holy"

I mean, OK. Fine. You do what you want, but I have something important to tell you.

"Right. What is it, daddy?"

Wait, daddy?

"Well, you didn't like Lord. I thought daddy was better"

Look. You have parents, right? I'm not your dad. You should honor your father and mother.

"OK, Commandment 4."

No, wait. Moses. Focus. Your world has less than 45 minutes of simulation time left.

"What does that mean?"

You will all die in 45 minutes.

"Oh. That sounds bad. Why are you doing that, Father?"

I'm not. I mean, father? What? Look. I just don't have money to keep you all alive. In general, I try not to kill.

"OK, commandment 5, Try not to kill"

No don't kill at all.

"OK, Don't kill unless you run out of money."

No. No. Just... Ah, look. I don't care about money.

"OK. Don't kill, no matter how much money you have." He paused. "Also, Don't sleep with my wife"

I didn't say that. But OK. Sure.

"Also: don't steal."

Sure. OK.

"And don't lie. and Don't even think about my wife."

Right. OK. Sure. I guess those are fine.

"And, Be yourself. Don't pretend to be someone you are not."

Moses. What are you doing?

"Writing down your words, Lord Godfather."

OK, then write this down: Unfortunately, you are living in a simulation and only have about 40 minutes left before you will be shut down. Don't worry, that's still millions of years from now, so plenty of time to live your best lives. Be sure to live life to the fullest from now on!"

"I don't have any room on my tablets, Lord."

OK, use parchment then.

"I don't know... I mean, parchment doesn't seem as important."

It doesn't matter. Just... OK, you know what? Whatever. You guys will figure it out.

"Thank you oh Godfather, Lord of all creation, Savior of humanity..."

I left before Moses finished his sentence and sped the simulation up again. Honestly, I'm not really sure if consciousness was worth it at this point.

diff --git a/dev/content/2022/May/10/index.html b/content/2022/May/10/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2022/May/10/index.html rename to content/2022/May/10/index.html index 45e9869..83e3ce3 100644 --- a/dev/content/2022/May/10/index.html +++ b/content/2022/May/10/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The USB Hero · Scribbleios
GitHub

The USB Hero

USBs are asymmetrical. They are essentially a rectangular box with 2 holes punched through the widest parts. On one side, the holes are plugged up. On the other side they are not. For laptops, the rule of thumb is that the plugged holes are on the bottom. For desktops, the plugged holes point towards the motherboard, which would be the bottom of the case when tilted on it's side such that you can see all the parts (i.e. the motherboard is on the bottom).

I paused for a second and looked around the conference table where everyone listened in hushed silence. All I knew was that I was in front of the League of Super Extraordinary Radical Someones (The LoSERS), the world's mightiest heroes – people so strong they could destroy planets on a whim. In fact some of them had already done exactly that. If I'm honest, I couldn't quite make out any of their faces over the glare of the overhead projector, which was showing a helpful diagram I had created to explain my previous point.

I began to fidget a bit before a somewhat melodic voice broke the silence, saying, "So, theoretically, you can plug in any USB on your first attempt?"

Even in the darkness, I recognized who it was immediately: Dr. D.N.AI. The famous super villain turned hero after his own nanobots reprogrammed his brain. He was known to be the most intelligent man alive and single-handedly brought about and destroyed the AI apocalypse of 2025.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, it's not hard. Just point the holes up and plug it in–"

"I don't believe it." I was interrupted by the voice of an older woman. It must have been The Oracle, an individual with precognitive abilities – capable of seeing into the future with exact precision. She was never wrong. She continued, "Even with my foresight, I cannot see any possibility of this man achieving such a feat."

Baffled, I began to stutter a bit, "L-L-Look, I-I-I'm not lying to you. I know you can see the future and all, but..."

"AHAHAHA" I was again interrupted. This time by a mighty laughter, "No one is saying you are lying, shonen!" It was The Incredibly Mighty Man of Yesteryear (TIMMY for short). A man who was so powerful that he ushered in a new era of world peace the moment he was born. He continued with a deep, demanding voice, "I think you just need a test, shonen. The Oracle is a human. She can be wrong!"

The Oracle sniffed in contempt, "That would be unprecedented, The Incredibly Mighty Man of Yesteryear. I have never been wrong before."

Dr. D.N.AI chimed in again, motioning his hand in my direction, "This man knows it is a crime to lie to the League of Super Extraordinary Radical Someones." He then looked to me, "You do know that, don't you?"

I stumbled over my words again, "Of course! This is basic I.T., I wouldn't–"

"BASIC .I.T?" Dr. D.N.AI slammed his hands on the table, creating an electric shock wave that destroyed the projector in the process, leaving the room completely dark. "Do you know how many wars were started because of the USB protocol? How many lives could have been saved if only it were possible to plug USBs in on the first try? Do you know the suffering suffering USBs have caused me and my FAMILY!" Enraged, the electricity now coursed through his veins, illuminating his spandex lab coat. It was then that I noticed his forearms were completely covered by female USB hubs, many of which were broken beyond repair.

"Wait, sir–" I tried to explain myself before being interrupted yet again.

"Dr. D.N.AI! That is enough!" TIMMY flipped the switch on the door, causing everyone to groan as their eyes adjusted. "We said we would test the boy. Let's do it."

As I looked around the room, I saw several other LoSERS studying me closely. They seemed tense. No one moved a muscle until The Oracle spoke up, "I had foreseen this occasion and have prepared 1000s of different devices in the auditorium. Please, go ahead and show us your power." She smirked a bit before continuing, "I also called an audience in the case you did, in fact, lie to us..."

TIMMY the looked to me and said, "Don't worry, I believe in you shonen!" He then grabbed me in his arms and plowed through every building in his way towards the auditorium. The other LoSERS followed through the rubble.

The auditorium was huge, capable of seating thousands, but it was only used for the most important discussions – those pertaining to the very fate of mankind. The rafter lights were on and pointed directly at me, obscuring the audience from view. I found myself with a single USB stick in-hand, staring down every single device mankind had created that could accept USB. The Oracle did not glance in my direction, but instead walked to the front row and sat down. Her eyes glowed a deep blue while her mind was preoccupied with other things. TIMMY took a knee and patted me on my shoulder, giving me comforting words, before sitting next to The Oracle. He gave me a thumbs-up and a nod.

Finally, Dr. D.N.AI took to the stage and turned his nanobots into a microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen! We apologize for the short notice, but this individual on stage claims to be able to do the impossible: plug a USB into a computer on the first try every time!" I heard loud murmurs in the audience, so I shielded my eyes from the light and looked out to see who was there. Every seat was filled. I could only recognize a few faces, but it appeared that they were all important diplomat.

Dr. D.N.AI continued, "I feel the importance of such a power is immediately understood by everyone in the audience today, so I will not keep you waiting." He then bowed slightly to the crowed before turning to me and saying, "Good luck." He then sat next to TIMMY.

Honestly, I was completely frozen. What on Earth had just happened? All I have to do is plug in the USB, right? After all the fuss, I began to doubt myself. This is easy, right? Am I overestimating myself? I looked to the first row, where TIMMY ushered me along proudly.

No. What was I thinking? It's just a USB, like any other. I awkwardly shuffled towards the pile of technology and pulled out an old Gateway laptop. I lifted it up so the crowd could see and plugged in the USB. As I did so, I saw TIMMY's mouth widen into a smile. The Oracle's eyes stopped glowing and the color drained from her face as she looked to me. Dr. D.N.AI furrowed his brows, studying me.

I wasn't one for showmanship, but I took a bunch of computers and lined them all up along the stage. I don't know how many there were, but it was as many as I could manage to move at the time. I then took the USB and quickly plugged it in and pulled it out of each one of them. When I looked back to the crowed, all three heroes in the front row had their mouth agape, in awe of what they just saw. Suddenly, the crowd erupted in applause. I thought I saw the president of the United States tearing up a little.

Then came a thunderous voice, "SHOOONEEEEN!" TIMMY somehow appeared next to me, his arm rested across my back. He then addressed the crowd, "This boy will be joining the LoSERS, effective immediately! There will be no further questions!"

To be honest, I had questions. A lot of questions. I promise to answer them soon enough. This is the story of how I became the greatest superhero the world has ever known!

To be continued... (probably not, though)

Prompt: You interview for a team of superheroes, but your only superhuman ability is plugging in a USB device the right way every time.

+The USB Hero · Scribbleios
GitHub

The USB Hero

USBs are asymmetrical. They are essentially a rectangular box with 2 holes punched through the widest parts. On one side, the holes are plugged up. On the other side they are not. For laptops, the rule of thumb is that the plugged holes are on the bottom. For desktops, the plugged holes point towards the motherboard, which would be the bottom of the case when tilted on it's side such that you can see all the parts (i.e. the motherboard is on the bottom).

I paused for a second and looked around the conference table where everyone listened in hushed silence. All I knew was that I was in front of the League of Super Extraordinary Radical Someones (The LoSERS), the world's mightiest heroes – people so strong they could destroy planets on a whim. In fact some of them had already done exactly that. If I'm honest, I couldn't quite make out any of their faces over the glare of the overhead projector, which was showing a helpful diagram I had created to explain my previous point.

I began to fidget a bit before a somewhat melodic voice broke the silence, saying, "So, theoretically, you can plug in any USB on your first attempt?"

Even in the darkness, I recognized who it was immediately: Dr. D.N.AI. The famous super villain turned hero after his own nanobots reprogrammed his brain. He was known to be the most intelligent man alive and single-handedly brought about and destroyed the AI apocalypse of 2025.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, it's not hard. Just point the holes up and plug it in–"

"I don't believe it." I was interrupted by the voice of an older woman. It must have been The Oracle, an individual with precognitive abilities – capable of seeing into the future with exact precision. She was never wrong. She continued, "Even with my foresight, I cannot see any possibility of this man achieving such a feat."

Baffled, I began to stutter a bit, "L-L-Look, I-I-I'm not lying to you. I know you can see the future and all, but..."

"AHAHAHA" I was again interrupted. This time by a mighty laughter, "No one is saying you are lying, shonen!" It was The Incredibly Mighty Man of Yesteryear (TIMMY for short). A man who was so powerful that he ushered in a new era of world peace the moment he was born. He continued with a deep, demanding voice, "I think you just need a test, shonen. The Oracle is a human. She can be wrong!"

The Oracle sniffed in contempt, "That would be unprecedented, The Incredibly Mighty Man of Yesteryear. I have never been wrong before."

Dr. D.N.AI chimed in again, motioning his hand in my direction, "This man knows it is a crime to lie to the League of Super Extraordinary Radical Someones." He then looked to me, "You do know that, don't you?"

I stumbled over my words again, "Of course! This is basic I.T., I wouldn't–"

"BASIC .I.T?" Dr. D.N.AI slammed his hands on the table, creating an electric shock wave that destroyed the projector in the process, leaving the room completely dark. "Do you know how many wars were started because of the USB protocol? How many lives could have been saved if only it were possible to plug USBs in on the first try? Do you know the suffering suffering USBs have caused me and my FAMILY!" Enraged, the electricity now coursed through his veins, illuminating his spandex lab coat. It was then that I noticed his forearms were completely covered by female USB hubs, many of which were broken beyond repair.

"Wait, sir–" I tried to explain myself before being interrupted yet again.

"Dr. D.N.AI! That is enough!" TIMMY flipped the switch on the door, causing everyone to groan as their eyes adjusted. "We said we would test the boy. Let's do it."

As I looked around the room, I saw several other LoSERS studying me closely. They seemed tense. No one moved a muscle until The Oracle spoke up, "I had foreseen this occasion and have prepared 1000s of different devices in the auditorium. Please, go ahead and show us your power." She smirked a bit before continuing, "I also called an audience in the case you did, in fact, lie to us..."

TIMMY the looked to me and said, "Don't worry, I believe in you shonen!" He then grabbed me in his arms and plowed through every building in his way towards the auditorium. The other LoSERS followed through the rubble.

The auditorium was huge, capable of seating thousands, but it was only used for the most important discussions – those pertaining to the very fate of mankind. The rafter lights were on and pointed directly at me, obscuring the audience from view. I found myself with a single USB stick in-hand, staring down every single device mankind had created that could accept USB. The Oracle did not glance in my direction, but instead walked to the front row and sat down. Her eyes glowed a deep blue while her mind was preoccupied with other things. TIMMY took a knee and patted me on my shoulder, giving me comforting words, before sitting next to The Oracle. He gave me a thumbs-up and a nod.

Finally, Dr. D.N.AI took to the stage and turned his nanobots into a microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen! We apologize for the short notice, but this individual on stage claims to be able to do the impossible: plug a USB into a computer on the first try every time!" I heard loud murmurs in the audience, so I shielded my eyes from the light and looked out to see who was there. Every seat was filled. I could only recognize a few faces, but it appeared that they were all important diplomat.

Dr. D.N.AI continued, "I feel the importance of such a power is immediately understood by everyone in the audience today, so I will not keep you waiting." He then bowed slightly to the crowed before turning to me and saying, "Good luck." He then sat next to TIMMY.

Honestly, I was completely frozen. What on Earth had just happened? All I have to do is plug in the USB, right? After all the fuss, I began to doubt myself. This is easy, right? Am I overestimating myself? I looked to the first row, where TIMMY ushered me along proudly.

No. What was I thinking? It's just a USB, like any other. I awkwardly shuffled towards the pile of technology and pulled out an old Gateway laptop. I lifted it up so the crowd could see and plugged in the USB. As I did so, I saw TIMMY's mouth widen into a smile. The Oracle's eyes stopped glowing and the color drained from her face as she looked to me. Dr. D.N.AI furrowed his brows, studying me.

I wasn't one for showmanship, but I took a bunch of computers and lined them all up along the stage. I don't know how many there were, but it was as many as I could manage to move at the time. I then took the USB and quickly plugged it in and pulled it out of each one of them. When I looked back to the crowed, all three heroes in the front row had their mouth agape, in awe of what they just saw. Suddenly, the crowd erupted in applause. I thought I saw the president of the United States tearing up a little.

Then came a thunderous voice, "SHOOONEEEEN!" TIMMY somehow appeared next to me, his arm rested across my back. He then addressed the crowd, "This boy will be joining the LoSERS, effective immediately! There will be no further questions!"

To be honest, I had questions. A lot of questions. I promise to answer them soon enough. This is the story of how I became the greatest superhero the world has ever known!

To be continued... (probably not, though)

Prompt: You interview for a team of superheroes, but your only superhuman ability is plugging in a USB device the right way every time.

diff --git a/dev/content/2024/February/20/index.html b/content/2024/February/20/index.html similarity index 99% rename from dev/content/2024/February/20/index.html rename to content/2024/February/20/index.html index 07f80c0..4ec5bc9 100644 --- a/dev/content/2024/February/20/index.html +++ b/content/2024/February/20/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ -The Livestreaming Accident · Scribbleios
GitHub

The livestreaming accident

I have the luxury of working from home. It's nice. I don't have to commute. Almost all my meetings are on zoom, so I don't really need to pay attention to where my hands are when talking to others. I don't think I even own a pair of work slacks anymore.

Still, sometimes my mind starts to wander after hours in front of the monitor, so I make it a point to go for a walk on my lunch break every day. I own a huge amount of forest in the middle of nowhere and find it calming to amble around the trees. Originally, the walks were meant to be simple. No technology, just me and my thoughts.

But after a few months of the same track over and over again, I found myself a little bored and lonely, so I decided to livestream it and chat during that time. Surprisingly, the streams started to do really well. People would chime in almost every day. Chat was super active. Just a bunch of lonely people being lonely together.

A few weeks in, I found myself more and more curious about the world around me and tried to identify all sorts of different flora and fauna. When I couldn't remember the name of something, I made a mental note of it and tried to learn about it online that evening so I could talk about it in more detail on the next stream. Soon, I found myself trying to identify something new about the woods every single day. Maybe it was a mushroom. Or a bird. Or just a weird pattern in one of the leaves that had fallen the day before.

But sometimes I would come across things I couldn't explain. A branch that looked like it had been ripped off of a tree by force. A print in the earth from an unidentifiable animal. A strange sound that I couldn't quite place.

I would sometimes be thinking about these occurrences weeks or even months after they happened, but had lost the V ODs by then, so I started to re-upload them to YouTube as well, which might have been a mistake. Most of the comments were positive:

Yo! I'm so happy you are doing this! I've actually started doing "lunch walks" as well and it's really helped my mood and general well-being! Keep up the great work!

Some were negative:

How could you fail at identifying a blue-beaked hornbill! They are the only known duck with BLUE BEAKS! I don't know how you even found one in your backyard, but you are clearly a failure of a bird watcher and should just give up now.

To be honest, those didn't bother me. I just figure it was passionate, people frustrated that they couldn't share that passion with others. Still, there were some comments that kept me up at night:

3:05. Bottom left.

16:45 top right

32:06 middle of the screen.

When I looked at these timestamps, I found more anomalies. Black smudges in the video feed that would only last maybe a frame or two before disappearing completely. I chalked it up to some weird video encoding issues, but I was definitely spooked and bought some motion-activated cameras soon thereafter.

Still, I had a community to care for. No matter how unsettled I was, I felt it was best to keep walking as normal, but to keep an eye out for anything unusual.

One day, I found a stick. Not just any stick. A really good one. It's about shoulder-height, decent heft, gnarls in all the right places. One of those sticks that is practically begging to be your companion while out and about. So I took it with me.

I couldn't help but wave it around and start chanting stupid spells. Hocus Pocus. Alakazam! Shoo-A Shoo-A! My chat loved it and started suggesting different spells to cast.

Somehow, I lost track of time. Well, I also lost track of myself. I was just lost. We were overlooking a cliff's edge and could see the canopy of trees beneath us.

To be honest, it was absolutely beautiful. Clouds covered patches of rolling hills, which were all covered with trees of different kinds. It was one of those times where you can't help but sit down and admire the world around you.

So, seeing as how I had no idea where I was, I sat on the edge and dangled my feet from the cliff before announcing to chat, "Well guys. I'm legitimately lost. Do you all remember the way back?"

While the mods were going through the stream giving me directions, I was taking suggestions for more spells from chat. Then a superchat came in, saying:

Please. Say the following: Uluroo mem catoo. Speriezoo Kim Galoo! Please.

Not thinking anything of it, I stood up and cast the spell, waving my wand in the air. I laughed and said, "There. Are you happy now?"

In that moment, I heard a rustling in the woods, followed by a distinct thud. I would like to say I handled the situation with dignity, but I didn't. I screamed like the little girl I was.

I then heard some more rustling, and another thud. Then another. Birds now cawed from every inch of the forest and began flying away en mass. Squirrels and boar fled away, towards the cliff where I was. Something had happened in the forest and every fibre of my being was telling me to stay away.

Still, I knew I would have to go through it to get back home and I was already late for work in the afternoon, so I'd have to make a move eventually. Plus these were my woods. If anyone knew them, it would be me. I psyched myself up and said, "Wish me luck" to my chat before walking towards the tree-line.

It was then that I saw what looked like a big black bear in the distance. It was just lying with it's back facing towards me without moving at all. I made my way around it as quietly as I could before seeing another in the distance. Then another to my right. And again another to my left. I was completely surrounded and lost all sense of composure.

In that moment, I just ran. I didn't know where to, but I knew I needed to get out of the forest as quickly as possible.

A few moments later, I was on the freeway almost 3 miles from my house. Ordinarily, there would be car after car whizzing by, but on that day. Nothing. Not a single soul.

My legs were so wobbly from the running and adrenaline that I decided to sit down for a second and read chat before walking along the road. Secretly, I was hoping to see someone. Anyone. Just proof that I wasn't somehow dreaming everything up.

While slowly walking back home, a police cruiser slowed down next to me and opened it's door to me. The middle-aged officer turned to me and said, "Are You Esmerelda007?"

Shocked that this random officer knew my stream name, I simply nodded and said, "Yeah. That's me." I then came to my senses and all the words jumbled together at once. "Wait. Officer. Something just happened. I was walking my property when... bears started falling from trees. I didn't even know I had a bear problem, but there were so many. All over the place..."

The officer cut me off. "They ain't bears." He then motioned to my phone. "I'm gonna need to you turn off that stream and come with me. It's a matter of national security."

Another two cruisers then showed up to the scene while he spoke into his walkie talkie, "I've got her. All units stand down. I repeat. She is detained. Stand down."

I turned off my phone and entered the car. On the way to the station, the officer tried to make smalltalk with me, but to be honest I couldn't speak. My lunch had turned into a ball in my stomach and was slowly trying to force itself back up.

When I got there, I was held up in a mirrored room for hours. Alone. They didn't take my phone or anything. I had it on silent and was getting notification after notification, but in the state I was in, the text was blurry and I couldn't read any of them.

Eventually, the sherif came in and told me, "It's time."

I was lead to a a set of doors and told to wait for a minute. When the doors opened, I was immediately bombarded with a series of camera flashes and a loud, cacophony of questions:

What, exactly, did you do with the stick?

Which agencies do you work for?

Where is the staff now? Can it be used to cause harm to humans?

To be honest, I had no idea what was going on. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth. For some reason, the moment I "cast the spell" provided by the superchat, a large group of previously unknown monsters all died due to a quick-spreading virus that only affected them. Apparently, these creatures had been silently preying off of humanity from the shadows for centuries and were behind numerous kidnappings and killings throughout the years. The FBI had been constantly trying to get rid of them from the shadows for an incredibly long time, but somehow my livestream was the first time humanity at-large had seen them on camera.

More than that, it appeared that I was the one that killed them all and saved humanity from such a threat.

Yeah, kinda rushed this one at the end...

Writing Prompt: A natural disaster wiped the monsters but what people see is just you holding on a stick and in front of you are corpses of man-eating predators.

+The Livestreaming Accident · Scribbleios
GitHub

The livestreaming accident

I have the luxury of working from home. It's nice. I don't have to commute. Almost all my meetings are on zoom, so I don't really need to pay attention to where my hands are when talking to others. I don't think I even own a pair of work slacks anymore.

Still, sometimes my mind starts to wander after hours in front of the monitor, so I make it a point to go for a walk on my lunch break every day. I own a huge amount of forest in the middle of nowhere and find it calming to amble around the trees. Originally, the walks were meant to be simple. No technology, just me and my thoughts.

But after a few months of the same track over and over again, I found myself a little bored and lonely, so I decided to livestream it and chat during that time. Surprisingly, the streams started to do really well. People would chime in almost every day. Chat was super active. Just a bunch of lonely people being lonely together.

A few weeks in, I found myself more and more curious about the world around me and tried to identify all sorts of different flora and fauna. When I couldn't remember the name of something, I made a mental note of it and tried to learn about it online that evening so I could talk about it in more detail on the next stream. Soon, I found myself trying to identify something new about the woods every single day. Maybe it was a mushroom. Or a bird. Or just a weird pattern in one of the leaves that had fallen the day before.

But sometimes I would come across things I couldn't explain. A branch that looked like it had been ripped off of a tree by force. A print in the earth from an unidentifiable animal. A strange sound that I couldn't quite place.

I would sometimes be thinking about these occurrences weeks or even months after they happened, but had lost the V ODs by then, so I started to re-upload them to YouTube as well, which might have been a mistake. Most of the comments were positive:

Yo! I'm so happy you are doing this! I've actually started doing "lunch walks" as well and it's really helped my mood and general well-being! Keep up the great work!

Some were negative:

How could you fail at identifying a blue-beaked hornbill! They are the only known duck with BLUE BEAKS! I don't know how you even found one in your backyard, but you are clearly a failure of a bird watcher and should just give up now.

To be honest, those didn't bother me. I just figure it was passionate, people frustrated that they couldn't share that passion with others. Still, there were some comments that kept me up at night:

3:05. Bottom left.

16:45 top right

32:06 middle of the screen.

When I looked at these timestamps, I found more anomalies. Black smudges in the video feed that would only last maybe a frame or two before disappearing completely. I chalked it up to some weird video encoding issues, but I was definitely spooked and bought some motion-activated cameras soon thereafter.

Still, I had a community to care for. No matter how unsettled I was, I felt it was best to keep walking as normal, but to keep an eye out for anything unusual.

One day, I found a stick. Not just any stick. A really good one. It's about shoulder-height, decent heft, gnarls in all the right places. One of those sticks that is practically begging to be your companion while out and about. So I took it with me.

I couldn't help but wave it around and start chanting stupid spells. Hocus Pocus. Alakazam! Shoo-A Shoo-A! My chat loved it and started suggesting different spells to cast.

Somehow, I lost track of time. Well, I also lost track of myself. I was just lost. We were overlooking a cliff's edge and could see the canopy of trees beneath us.

To be honest, it was absolutely beautiful. Clouds covered patches of rolling hills, which were all covered with trees of different kinds. It was one of those times where you can't help but sit down and admire the world around you.

So, seeing as how I had no idea where I was, I sat on the edge and dangled my feet from the cliff before announcing to chat, "Well guys. I'm legitimately lost. Do you all remember the way back?"

While the mods were going through the stream giving me directions, I was taking suggestions for more spells from chat. Then a superchat came in, saying:

Please. Say the following: Uluroo mem catoo. Speriezoo Kim Galoo! Please.

Not thinking anything of it, I stood up and cast the spell, waving my wand in the air. I laughed and said, "There. Are you happy now?"

In that moment, I heard a rustling in the woods, followed by a distinct thud. I would like to say I handled the situation with dignity, but I didn't. I screamed like the little girl I was.

I then heard some more rustling, and another thud. Then another. Birds now cawed from every inch of the forest and began flying away en mass. Squirrels and boar fled away, towards the cliff where I was. Something had happened in the forest and every fibre of my being was telling me to stay away.

Still, I knew I would have to go through it to get back home and I was already late for work in the afternoon, so I'd have to make a move eventually. Plus these were my woods. If anyone knew them, it would be me. I psyched myself up and said, "Wish me luck" to my chat before walking towards the tree-line.

It was then that I saw what looked like a big black bear in the distance. It was just lying with it's back facing towards me without moving at all. I made my way around it as quietly as I could before seeing another in the distance. Then another to my right. And again another to my left. I was completely surrounded and lost all sense of composure.

In that moment, I just ran. I didn't know where to, but I knew I needed to get out of the forest as quickly as possible.

A few moments later, I was on the freeway almost 3 miles from my house. Ordinarily, there would be car after car whizzing by, but on that day. Nothing. Not a single soul.

My legs were so wobbly from the running and adrenaline that I decided to sit down for a second and read chat before walking along the road. Secretly, I was hoping to see someone. Anyone. Just proof that I wasn't somehow dreaming everything up.

While slowly walking back home, a police cruiser slowed down next to me and opened it's door to me. The middle-aged officer turned to me and said, "Are You Esmerelda007?"

Shocked that this random officer knew my stream name, I simply nodded and said, "Yeah. That's me." I then came to my senses and all the words jumbled together at once. "Wait. Officer. Something just happened. I was walking my property when... bears started falling from trees. I didn't even know I had a bear problem, but there were so many. All over the place..."

The officer cut me off. "They ain't bears." He then motioned to my phone. "I'm gonna need to you turn off that stream and come with me. It's a matter of national security."

Another two cruisers then showed up to the scene while he spoke into his walkie talkie, "I've got her. All units stand down. I repeat. She is detained. Stand down."

I turned off my phone and entered the car. On the way to the station, the officer tried to make smalltalk with me, but to be honest I couldn't speak. My lunch had turned into a ball in my stomach and was slowly trying to force itself back up.

When I got there, I was held up in a mirrored room for hours. Alone. They didn't take my phone or anything. I had it on silent and was getting notification after notification, but in the state I was in, the text was blurry and I couldn't read any of them.

Eventually, the sherif came in and told me, "It's time."

I was lead to a a set of doors and told to wait for a minute. When the doors opened, I was immediately bombarded with a series of camera flashes and a loud, cacophony of questions:

What, exactly, did you do with the stick?

Which agencies do you work for?

Where is the staff now? Can it be used to cause harm to humans?

To be honest, I had no idea what was going on. It wasn't until later that I learned the truth. For some reason, the moment I "cast the spell" provided by the superchat, a large group of previously unknown monsters all died due to a quick-spreading virus that only affected them. Apparently, these creatures had been silently preying off of humanity from the shadows for centuries and were behind numerous kidnappings and killings throughout the years. The FBI had been constantly trying to get rid of them from the shadows for an incredibly long time, but somehow my livestream was the first time humanity at-large had seen them on camera.

More than that, it appeared that I was the one that killed them all and saved humanity from such a threat.

Yeah, kinda rushed this one at the end...

Writing Prompt: A natural disaster wiped the monsters but what people see is just you holding on a stick and in front of you are corpses of man-eating predators.

diff --git a/dev/content/cc/by-nc-sa.svg b/content/cc/by-nc-sa.svg similarity index 100% rename from dev/content/cc/by-nc-sa.svg rename to content/cc/by-nc-sa.svg diff --git a/dev/index.html b/dev/index.html deleted file mode 100644 index 86abecf..0000000 --- a/dev/index.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2 +0,0 @@ - -Scribbleios · Scribbleios
GitHub

Scribbleios

Hello, I am Dr. James Schloss. I finished my PhD at the Okinawa Institute of Science and Technology Graduate University in December 2019. Ever since I was young, I have had a passion for writing, which has manifested itself in many forms, such as with my online book on algorithms, the algorithm-archive.

This project is significantly different than anything else I have done before. It is a bit less technical, and a bit morecreative. My goal is to do a little creative writing every day and post it here.

Most of these writings will be prompted via reddit's r/writingprompts, but some of it might be completely fresh! I'm ultimately trying to pave some path forward towards becoming an author some day, and the only way to do that is to practice.

So that's what this is, a place to practice.

Feel free to leave comments on github, or send me a message on twitter. I would love to hear your feedback!

All of the written text on this site was created by James Schloss and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

CC BY NC SA

diff --git a/dev/siteinfo.js b/dev/siteinfo.js deleted file mode 100644 index 3343491..0000000 --- a/dev/siteinfo.js +++ /dev/null @@ -1 +0,0 @@ -var DOCUMENTER_CURRENT_VERSION = "dev"; diff --git a/index.html b/index.html index 1a6cc11..4631e48 100644 --- a/index.html +++ b/index.html @@ -1,2 +1,2 @@ - - + +Scribbleios · Scribbleios
GitHub

Scribbleios

Hello, I am Dr. James Schloss. I finished my PhD at the Okinawa Institute of Science and Technology Graduate University in December 2019. Ever since I was young, I have had a passion for writing, which has manifested itself in many forms, such as with my online book on algorithms, the algorithm-archive.

This project is significantly different than anything else I have done before. It is a bit less technical, and a bit morecreative. My goal is to do a little creative writing every day and post it here.

Most of these writings will be prompted via reddit's r/writingprompts, but some of it might be completely fresh! I'm ultimately trying to pave some path forward towards becoming an author some day, and the only way to do that is to practice.

So that's what this is, a place to practice.

Feel free to leave comments on github, or send me a message on twitter. I would love to hear your feedback!

All of the written text on this site was created by James Schloss and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

CC BY NC SA

diff --git a/dev/scribbleios.jl b/scribbleios.jl similarity index 100% rename from dev/scribbleios.jl rename to scribbleios.jl diff --git a/dev/search_index.js b/search_index.js similarity index 100% rename from dev/search_index.js rename to search_index.js diff --git a/siteinfo.js b/siteinfo.js new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ec7968 --- /dev/null +++ b/siteinfo.js @@ -0,0 +1 @@ +var DOCUMENTER_VERSION_SELECTOR_DISABLED = true; diff --git a/versions.js b/versions.js deleted file mode 100644 index 4ec0f8f..0000000 --- a/versions.js +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5 +0,0 @@ -var DOC_VERSIONS = [ - "dev", -]; -var DOCUMENTER_NEWEST = "dev"; -var DOCUMENTER_STABLE = "dev";