ZOMBIE FORUMS

It's a stinking, shambling corpse grotesquely parodying life.
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PostPosted: Thu Sep 04, 2003 7:02 pm 
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Location: You can't take the sky from me. Since I found Serenity.
[OCC]No, actually the game is controlling him. It's a mind-enslaving game.[/OCC]

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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 1:06 pm 
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*Poke Poke*

I thought this thing was alive? Do we have to start again to get it going?


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PostPosted: Wed Sep 10, 2003 3:23 pm 
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Location: You can't take the sky from me. Since I found Serenity.
[OOC]I spoke my piece. WI get in here!![/OOC]

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PostPosted: Wed Sep 17, 2003 3:16 pm 
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Malcom is weeping openly.

"I'm... so... scared. Where's daddy?" :(


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 Post subject: I'll be foregoing my usual obsession with subject lines, since it doesn't really fit in with RP-ing. With the, er, exception of this post. Yeah.
PostPosted: Mon Sep 22, 2003 4:07 pm 
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[OOC]Sorry for the lateness, but I was delayed both by my own laziness and a goddamned hurricane. O_E, the game's controlling me, eh? Hmm...[/OOC]

The remaining townspeople are busily eyeing each other suspiciously, when suddenly they are distracted by creak of the door opening. Waynderfield walks in, looking slightly disheveled, as if from a long journey.

"Evening, evening. Heard about the recent spate of folks being cut into bite-sized chunks. Terrible business, that. Young Will sent a message via the post all the way to Warwickshire to tell me about it. Where is he, anyway?"

[OOC]I've been away for awhile- is Yevaud back from his forum-hiatus yet?[/OOC]

At this, Waynderfield seems to be distracted, looking around as if he had heard something. He mutters under his breath, and his hand goes under his overcoat, where he seem to be clutching something in its folds. He straightens up again in a moment.

"In any case, I was busy attending a Tantric Buttsex seminar when I received the communiqué. Cut everything short and came back as soon as I heard, mind you. Just as well, the seminar was getting rather- strenuous."

With this, he sits gingerly down on one of the chairs, places his cane on the table before him, and slowly leans back.

"I thought I might be of some help, being a Master Speculator in the Cult and all. Have you made any progress in identifying the potential killer?"

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PostPosted: Tue Sep 23, 2003 5:35 am 
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"The drunk did it. I'm sure this time."

He nods, lowering himself into achair and crossing his arms over his chest.

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PostPosted: Thu Sep 25, 2003 7:15 am 
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Listening to the various accusations fly around him, Waynderfield sighs. Unfounded Speculation was one thing, but these amateurs were going to get themselves all killed off before they ever found the murderer.

“I see I was right to come back- you people need help. Luckily, I’ve brought something that may be of assistance.

You see”, he begins in his best Lecturing voice, as the eyes of several of the townspeople glaze over preemptively, “the Cult of Unfounded Speculation is older than you know. I prefer counting from the emergence of one charismatic leader to emergence of the next. In which case this is the sixth version.

We have a history which stretches back centuries, and possess artifacts that are still older. In earlier times, our order might have used them for everyday purposes, but such magicks are all but lost to us now.

Nevertheless, upon my return to Expatville, I made a detour to the Cult Vault, from which I removed the only item which may be able to save the town. One which has not been used for centuries...”

With this, he reaches into the folds of his coat and brings out what looks to be a small, hollow ball made of glass. It is the size of the very largest of the marbles which the town children occasionally play with, and a shimmering light flickers vaguely across its inside. He places it gently on a side table, and then turns back to the room.

“This, my friends, is the Orb of Founded Speculation. Much of our ancient knowledge about it has been lost, but I believe that it works by automatically speculating on all unfounded possibilities, until only the founded ones are left. It is said that in time, it can reveal all truths. It is also rumored that to use the Orb results in madness, for humans are not meant to experience the Truth directly. But, given that you are all likely to end up shredded to bits otherwise, I believe it is a risk we must take.”

He picks up his cane from the main table and begins shuffling around the room, thoughtfully.

“Now I just must remember the proper incantation to activate it in a controlled manner, hopefully just enough so that we don’t all go insane.

Either way, we’ll soon know the identity of the killer or killers.”

[OOC]Feel free to speculate on who it might be, or to look around to see if anyone seems nervous.[/OOC]

The Orb flashes slightly, and Waynderfield seems to mutter to himself for a moment again.

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 Post subject: FYI: I'm here, just don't have anything new to add yet!
PostPosted: Thu Sep 25, 2003 4:33 pm 
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Will has had a look of rapturous bliss on his face since the arrival of the esteemed and near-legendary Waynderfield. The Orb of Founded Speculation then catches his eye, and he is currently sitting in quiet veneration of this most sacred and mysterious relic.

He will stand by his prior accusation of the plushie, if anybody asks.

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PostPosted: Tue Sep 30, 2003 2:17 pm 
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"Not to point out the obvious, but why not: This killer seems to go after whomever we don't seem to care for collectively.

So why not just selectively pick out the... miscreants? The only common thread I've noticed aside from this is the constant strikes at the nobles..."

Tang is Undecided.

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PostPosted: Tue Sep 30, 2003 2:24 pm 
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Location: You can't take the sky from me. Since I found Serenity.
Then why aren't I dead yet?

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PostPosted: Sun Oct 12, 2003 11:58 am 
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Location: You can't take the sky from me. Since I found Serenity.
Are you going to tell us WI?

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 Post subject: I'm too lazy to log into TWO accounts.
PostPosted: Sun Oct 19, 2003 7:17 pm 
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Edward looked at the Orb with obvious distate, his belief that such an artifact could do anything very low.

"E..exc... excuse me..." He stammered out, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the index finger on his left hand. "But how... how do you know that such a ... such a thing would be acc... acc... accurate?"

___

Michael snorted, amused at the appearance of the Pedant, and his silly toy.

The baubles of children hold no future but a path that could of been, and what once was, but wasn't. That which you see is true but not true, a distorted image of when, but not then. Show us your power if you must, my little pretty, but be quick about it.

Oh no... Not yet... The game wasn't going to end this soon. It was far from over. With a thought, the Orb imploded then exploded, showering the room with shards of itself.

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PostPosted: Mon Oct 20, 2003 3:21 pm 
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Waynderfield has gone quite pale.

“You fool! Do you know what you've done?” he asks unbelievingly, looking at the shards, which have now begun to glow brightly.

Suddenly, one of Wardon's guards shouts what sounds like “Ook!” Everyone turns and looks at him. “Are we ever going to finish this, or will we keep playing for *another* five months?” He then makes a strange guttural sound, followed by “Ook” again.

“Crickey...”, says the guard, shaking himself as if awaking from a dream he did not wish to remember. “Where the 'ell did that come from?”

“Ook.”, comes from one of the other townspeople. “Does that thing actually do anything, or should we just turn it over to Icy again? gu-Ook.” The shards of the Orb glow brighter, as things begin to get very odd indeed...

As several of the townspeople begin to stumble about, haunted by unknown visions, occasionally exclaiming something beginning and ending with “ook”, Waynderfield suddenly sees text, a message appearing in his mind's eye. It reads:

IcyMonkey wrote:
The killer is WrenDraco, and the witness is Michael the Giraffe. Mickey has used his status as a witness to secretly blackmail Wren into murdering the victims he chooses, and he's rigged it so that, if he dies, her identity as murderer will be revealed by one of his loyal cultists.

Somehow, he doesn't know how, he knows that this means Lila is the culprit. He notices her sneaking around the back of the room, and moves to block the door.

“I say, stop her, she's the killer!” But the most of the townspeople are too preoccupied with trying to make sense of the Truth which is being revealed to them to take notice. One of the guards manages to come to himself and lunges for Lila, but she slips from his grasp and runs towards the door. Waynderfield, flustered, points the end of his cane at her and squeezes the handle. Lila's mind has just enough time to register that the end is hollow, like the barrel of a gun, just before it's no longer able to register anything at all as the left half of her face is blown off. Waynderfield walks away, barely noticing Lila's body, and looks down thoughtfully at the shattered Orb as its pieces glow ever brighter. He looks up. His eyes are distant as he speaks, as the townspeople pull themselves together to listen:

“It has been said by some ancient philosophers that perhaps we are all but dreams in the mind of God. It makes one wonder, could our world, our entire reality, really be a figment in the imagination of some higher being? Or even beings? No more than dreams, or a game of some type. We would be to them just as the drawings we make on paper are to us. And perhaps they exist only in the consciousness of yet higher beings, and are unaware of it just as we are.”

He looks down at himself and sees only the word, “Waynderfield”. He moves his arm, and sees only the sentence “He moves his arm, and sees only the sentence “He moves his arm, and sees only the sentence “He moves his arm, and sees only the sentence “He moves his ar-“ “ “ “

Shaking himself free of the vision, he suddenly becomes aware of minds, great minds, hovering just out of reach. They are not a part of his world, and yet- he is a part of them somehow. He is within them. Subservient to them. And he is being controlled. As is the world.

“I see...” he says to himself, striving to make sense of it all. “So this is the price of True Knowledge. The ancient Speculation Sages were right, it is not worth-”

Suddenly, he sinks to his knees, and begins laughing. The sound of it peals from the town hall over the square. Several of the others start to join in. Soon almost everyone is laughing, as they slump to the ground, one by one, and are then silent.

Just before he collapses, Waynderfield’s thoughts become small, centered. There is a way out. A way other than the oblivion of absorption which he now knows awaits him. He has yet another self. A vision of a much younger man, dressed in an oddly long black coat and some sort of dark eye coverings disappearing as if he were a mist, appears before him. “Quantum... Certainty...” he thinks, before everything goes black.


* * * * *

Epilogue:

The young man squints in the noonday sun as he surveys the town square. Behind him, the last of the townspeople are being loaded into wagons. The only sounds are the grunts of the volunteers as they carry those who would not or could not walk, and the gibbering of those of the townspeople who were making even less sense than the others, if that were possible. He wipes his brow with his sleeve, and starts towards the nearest wagon. He’ll be glad enough to get out of the town, as it is beginning to give him the creeps. No one knew exactly what had happened. A rider who was carrying a routine message to Expatville had arrived in his hometown of R’Pingshire a few days earlier, saying that the entire town had gone mad. By the time the local officials arrived in Expatville, half the townspeople had either killed themselves or blundered into injury, and the rest were simply babbling incoherently. At times, sentence fragments about “higher realities” and such could be made out, but they were of little help in determining what had happened. There were rumors of a spate of murders in the town the week before, and sure enough several mutilated bodies had been found, including one with a gunshot wound to the head, but the only other odd finding had been in the town hall where many of the citizens had apparently been gathered. There were extremely thin shards of what looked like glass scattered about, and a complete suit of clothes, including a cape and odd silver-handled cane was found lying on the floor, with no matching body nearby.

Expatville had always been something of a den of iniquity (according to the local clergy), and the Church’s official story on the event was that the town had succumbed to the forces of darkness, and its people were now demon-possessed. There had been a new sanitarium built in R’Pingshire recently, and the remaining townsfolk were being transported there, where the priests could try their exorcisms, and the doctors their magnets and leeches. Better them than him, he thought to himself. The incoherent rambling of the louder townspeople was beginning to grate on his nerves most excessively. Reaching for the reins, he orders the horses forward, and the last of the wagons pull out of the town, leaving it silent and bare behind them.

They are barely out of town when the world shimmers and disappears, as the game ends and the inhabitants of the Kyhm forums return to their normal board personas.

Some time later the world of the forums itself becomes static and dead as the last of the forumers logs off for the night, returning to their normal life.

God stirs slightly and nearly wakes up, but then thinks better of it, and the inhabitants of Earth remain, existing in ver slumber for a little while yet.

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Belief is the death of intelligence. As soon as one believes a doctrine of any sort, or assumes certitude, one stops thinking about that aspect of existence.
- Robert Anton Wilson


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 Post subject: Rock a bye dreamer, you who are god, when the wind blows, your heaven will rock, when the bow breaks, your heaven will fall, and down falls the dreamer, heaven and all....
PostPosted: Mon Oct 20, 2003 4:23 pm 
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Hehe, cool. Reminded me more than a little of what I've seen of the Road Trip plot twists, but cool.

Oh, except you got one thing wrong: there is very seldom a "last of the forumers" who logs off for the night. WE ARE ETERNAL! (Or at least span enough time zones to make it seem like it.)

Thanks for the closure, WI. 8)

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"Only he who attempts the absurd
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 Post subject: Heh, fantasy always did reflect reality.
PostPosted: Mon Oct 20, 2003 4:55 pm 
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Damn. That was interesting, though it sucks that we're all either dead or gibbering lunatics. But then that isn't too different from reality, is it?


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PostPosted: Mon Oct 20, 2003 6:46 pm 
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WI, you are a genius.

Seriously, you should join some of the RPs we have going, or even better, start one yourself; you definitely seem to have a knack for this.

Admittedly, the "characters being aware that they are part of a story" thing is being done currently in the Road Trip thread, but you managed to put a unique spin on it that made your post a thoroughly enjoyable read.


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PostPosted: Mon Oct 20, 2003 6:51 pm 
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So when does part two begin?


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 Post subject: Re: Rock a bye dreamer, you who are god, when the wind blows, your heaven will rock, when the bow breaks, your heaven will fall, and down falls the dreamer, heaven and all....
PostPosted: Tue Oct 21, 2003 8:30 am 
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Yevaud333 wrote:
Hehe, cool. Reminded me more than a little of what I've seen of the Road Trip plot twists, but cool.

Damn, I'm not unique? :( Someone else broke the fourth wall and it drove all the characters insane?

Quote:
Oh, except you got one thing wrong: there is very seldom a "last of the forumers" who logs off for the night. WE ARE ETERNAL! (Or at least span enough time zones to make it seem like it.)

Only way I could think of to close out that level of reality. I figured there would be *some* time when almost nobody was on.

IcyMonkey wrote:
Seriously, you should join some of the RPs we have going, or even better, start one yourself; you definitely seem to have a knack for this.

The Road Trip thread scares me.

And this from the person who writes 10,000-word posts 0_o

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PostPosted: Tue Oct 21, 2003 9:59 am 
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*pokes head in* Not involved with the Murder Game thread, but I have to say this after reading through it...

WI-san, you are hearby ordered to go sign up for the RT2 forum.

...pwease? :3

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 Post subject: ROAD TRIP WAI!!!
PostPosted: Tue Oct 21, 2003 2:05 pm 
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Wandering Idiot wrote:
The Road Trip thread scares me.

And this from the person who writes 10,000-word posts 0_o


Seriously, give it a read next time you have "bored-off-my-ass-at-work time" (tm). Admittedly, it starts out kind of silly and random, but by page 20 or so a serious, engaging plot emerges. Kind of like EN itself really...

Not to say there isn't comic relief. Rand's character, for example, e.g. in the condom/chewing gum scene... But I'm giving away too much. :D

[/humble]Oh, and of course my character is like, teh best one evar. I somehow managed to turn a talking blue monkey into a SERIOUS PROTEGONIST. Go me. [humble]

So, yeah, read.


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