/ Malfunction

——/ malfunction

Q: specify

A: unauthorized symmetry firing/perimeters unsafe

/////— {X} Signature detected

[][][{[]}][][]

{{{{{{{{[]}}}}}}}

{X} Signature overloading theomatrix substrate/containment procedure failing, ONYX-SECURITY SOLUTION: online

Plucking Soap-bubbles

Do you ever have a thought in your head, these flashes of things you can see, and they just linger? Over and over. This vivid kernel I can just.. pluck out of the dark, expand and contract it, make it real. But every time I’m close, every time I’m there, I’m missing something when I get close.

The Anastasia was discovered adrift, nearly two hundred and fifty-eight light years from its projected path, and nearly another sixteen beyond any likely malfunction generated disturbance routes.

Anastasia was completely undamaged, found simply in power-down-mode and crewless, all one hundred six hands missing entirely. Security records came up blank, sensor webs empty of digital record keepers, ambiently powered drones that should’ve lasted a lifetime frigidly silent and inoperable for impossibly long. Anastasia was literally senseless: blind, deaf, unable to recount any reason at all to this failure.

Within a cycle of her detection the Anastasia was powered back on, retrieved, and piloted back to Hünean-Cyvolich shipyards in Guon for retrofit and repair. As of this record, the SSV-Hünean-Cyvolich Anastasia remains in operation.

If I was a Necromancer

I think if I was a necromancer, I would go to museums and fossil yards and things like that, and bring extinct life back to the world of the living. I am fascinated by skeletons and bones from creatures who breathed and lived aeons in the past. It’s so majestic and formiddable in a way I can’t really explain. Could you imagine seeing these things, gorgeous and vibrant and primordial, alive and whole like you are right now?

As a necromancer, I’d wear obsidian and fossilized plating, cloaked in rich black, white, gold, and red fabric. Necklaces of elegantly carved amber with preserved ammonites, raptorial claws from Dakotaraptor or Velociraptor on my greaves and gauntleted fingers, mammoth fur heavy-duty pack on my back. An ornately carved and patterned primeval skull helm, with rich and striking colors, thorny pieces.

Playing Mass Effect 3 and I feel a mixture of sadness and honor in my last missions on Earth

Woah.

The Tyrant, Regal-Eternal

Come and marvel at my obsidian bones.

See my mighty jaws swallow the mountains long after I can bite, my shattering roars crumble the sky even without vocal cords.

Midnight feathers ripple on ebony scales, riveting even in death, phantoms summoned by awe to once again quiver atop my cathedral skeleton.

Look upon me and tremble, and fear, and desire. Witness.

Many prone before me in this grand tomb of stone and metal. I hear their prayers, their wishes. Even so long after I have perished, my Reign continues in the imagination, in the soul..

I am a Primeval King, I am an unending God, I am a force of the Earth herself.

Forever.