Merge branch 'main' into arthur
This commit is contained in:
Madison Scott-Clary
@ -9,9 +9,9 @@ disablePathToLower = true
|
||||
post = '/:filename/'
|
||||
|
||||
[params]
|
||||
author = 'Madison Scott-Clary'
|
||||
home = 'https://makyo.ink'
|
||||
copyright = '2020—2022'
|
||||
# author = 'Madison Scott-Clary'
|
||||
# home = 'https://makyo.ink'
|
||||
copyright = 'The Post-Self authors 2020 — 2024'
|
||||
customCSS = ['/css/toledot.css']
|
||||
|
||||
[markup.goldmark.renderer]
|
||||
|
||||
@ -1,19 +1,6 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
</main>
|
||||
|
||||
<main class="carousel">
|
||||
<nav>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li class="carousel-entry home"><a href="#home">Home</a></li>
|
||||
<li class="carousel-entry cycle"><a href="#cycle">The Post-Self Cycle</a></li>
|
||||
<li class="carousel-entry clade"><a href="#clade">Clade</a></li>
|
||||
<li class="carousel-entry ttrpg"><a href="#ttrpg">The Post-Self TTRPG</a></li>
|
||||
<li class="carousel-entry about"><a href="#about">About</a></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
</nav>
|
||||
<section class="carousel-item home">
|
||||
<div class="hero">
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li>Given the chance to live forever in a world not built for death, what do you do?</li>
|
||||
@ -21,54 +8,13 @@
|
||||
<li>Given the ability to create a full copy of yourself—down to every single one of those memories—to do as they will, to individuate and live out their own forever lives, or merge back down and meld their memories with your own, what paths do you take?</li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
</div>
|
||||
|
||||
The Post-Self universe is an open setting for exploring the ramifications of being able to create copies of oneself, of what it means to undergo individuation, of what it means to let memories build up and up and up within oneself. With five novels, four novellas, an anthology of short stories, and plenty more besides, there's story to explore spanning more than three centuries of history.
|
||||
|
||||
Interested in a quick-start on the setting? Check out [What is Post-Self?](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/What_is_Post-Self%3F) on the wiki!
|
||||
|
||||
<!--
|
||||
Alternately: "If I had a nickel for every time I accidentally wrote something with heavy plural undertones that I hadn't intended but nonetheless made me doubt my identity, I'd have two nickels! Which isn't a lot, but it is weird that it happened twice."
|
||||
-->
|
||||
<h2 id="home">Updates</h2>
|
||||
<iframe style="width: 100%; height: 75vh" src="https://cohost.org/post-self"></iframe>
|
||||
</section>
|
||||
<section class="carousel-item cycle">
|
||||
<h2 id="cycle">The Post-Self Cycle</h2>
|
||||
<p><a href="/cycle"><img src="/img/covers.png" alt="The book covers"></a></p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p>And thus grew a new world, a world that was not built for death…</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>From the very beginning of the consensual dream of the System, the members of the Ode clade, all forks from the same core personality, have dealt with fear each in their own way. Do they search for greater ways to control their lives? Do they hunt for yet deeper emotional connection? Do they hone their art to the finest point?</p>
|
||||
<p>From roots in political turmoil to the building of a new society, the story is there to be found, and the Bălan clade is there to tell it.</p>
|
||||
<!--
|
||||
Alternately: "Gender-weird meta-furry almost-plural sci-fi."
|
||||
-->
|
||||
</section>
|
||||
<section class="carousel-item clade">
|
||||
<h2 id="clade">Clade</h2>
|
||||
<p><a href="https://clade.post-self.ink"><img src="/img/clade.png" alt="The book cover"></a></p>
|
||||
<blockquote>
|
||||
<p><strong>Clade</strong> <em>(n)</em> – /klɛ:id/ – <em>post-self theory</em><br>
|
||||
A group of individuals patterned off a single root consciousness, formed through branching expansion of the forking of its constituent members.<br>
|
||||
<em>See also: cladistics, cocladist, up-/down-/cross-tree instance, forking, post-self theory.</em><br>
|
||||
— The System Central Library Encyclopedia</p>
|
||||
</blockquote>
|
||||
<p>To split oneself among however many individuals, to let the mind drift and diverge, to feel the world from points of view not your own, and then let those memories crash down into you…well, it inspires a feeling best described as ‘heady’, to say the least.</p>
|
||||
<p>Ten stories by ten authors, all set in the Post-Self universe. An extra funded by the <em>Mitzvot</em> Kickstarter backers.</p>
|
||||
</section>
|
||||
<section class="carousel-item ttrpg">
|
||||
<h2 id="ttrpg">The Post-Self TTRPG</h2>
|
||||
<p><a href="/extras/ttrpg"><img src="/img/ttrpg.png" alt="The book cover"></a></p>
|
||||
<p>A tabletop role-playing game powered by The Apocalypse, an extra funded by the <em>Mitzvot</em> Kickstarter backers.</p>
|
||||
<p><em>Coming soon!</em></p>
|
||||
</section>
|
||||
<section class="carousel-item about">
|
||||
<h2 id="about">About</h2>
|
||||
<p>The Post-Self universe is an open setting for exploring the ramifications of being able to create copies of oneself, of what it means to undergo individuation, of what it means to let memories build up and up and up within oneself. All of the information on working with the universe is contained within this appendix, an extra funded by the <em>Mitzvot</em> Kickstarter backers.</p>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li><a href="/extras">Extras</a> — Additional stories, resources, and visual art</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about/timeline">Timeline</a> — A basic timeline of events covered in the books</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about/characters">Dramatic Personae</a> — A list of characters in the books and where they came from</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about/universe">The Universe</a> — The mechanics of the setting</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about/glossary">Glossary</a> — Some common words and terms</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about/questions">Questions and Answers</a> — Questions that have arisen and some answers to go with them</li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<p>As an open setting, everything is free to use for your own purposes under a Creative-Commons 4.0 Attribution license. These stories wouldn’t be what they are without the contributions of others.</p>
|
||||
</section>
|
||||
<script src="/carousel.js"></script>
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
@ -17,14 +17,21 @@ ul {
|
||||
|
||||
> "All artists search. I search for stories, in this post-self age. What happens when you can no longer call yourself an individual, when you have split your sense of self among several instances? How do you react? Do you withdraw into yourself, become a hermit? Do you expand until you lose all sense of identity? Do you fragment? Do you go about it deliberately, or do you let nature and chance take their course?"
|
||||
|
||||
The Post-Self universe is an open setting for exploring the ramifications of being able to create copies of oneself, of what it means to undergo individuation, of what it means to let memories build up and up and up within oneself. All of the information on working with the universe is contained within this appendix, an extra funded by the *Mitzvot* Kickstarter backers:
|
||||
The Post-Self universe is an open setting for exploring the ramifications of being able to create copies of oneself, of what it means to undergo individuation, of what it means to let memories build up and up and up within oneself. All of the information on working with the universe is contained within the [Post-Self Wiki](https://wiki.post-self.ink). Here are some good places to start:
|
||||
|
||||
* [Timeline](timeline)
|
||||
* [What is Post-Self?](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/What_is_Post-Self%3F)
|
||||
* [Writing in the Post-Self Setting](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Writing_guide)
|
||||
* [Glossary](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Glossary)
|
||||
|
||||
The Wiki contains many spoilers. If you are interested in more information in a spoiler-free/spoiler-obscured format, the following pages are provided:
|
||||
|
||||
* [Timeline](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/No-spoiler_timeline)
|
||||
* [Dramatis Personae](characters)
|
||||
* [The Universe](universe)
|
||||
* [Glossary](glossary)
|
||||
* [Questions and Answers](questions)
|
||||
<!--* [Questions and Answers](questions)-->
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
For more discussion, conversation, and community, feel free to join the [Discord server](https://makyo.io/ps-discord) or [Telegram group](https://makyo.io/ps-telegram).
|
||||
|
||||
As an open setting, everything is free to use for your own purposes under a Creative-Commons 4.0 Attribution license. These stories wouldn't be what they are without the contributions of others; if you would like your work included here or simply have further questions, please feel free to [get in touch](https://makyo.is).
|
||||
|
||||
@ -2,10 +2,15 @@
|
||||
title: Dramatis Personae
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
As the Post-Self universe contains billions, you're perfectly free to create your own characters to live, work, love, and hate within the setting. The following are those included in the canon, which you are welcome to use.
|
||||
As the Post-Self universe contains billions, you're perfectly free to create your own characters to live, work, love, and hate within the setting. The following are those included in the canon.
|
||||
|
||||
Spoilers for the Post-Self Cycle itself are marked as such: <span class="spoiler">Yikes!</span><i class="spoiler-warn"></i>. Hover to expose the spoiler.
|
||||
|
||||
* [The Ode clade](#the-ode-clade)
|
||||
* [The Bălan clade](#the-bălan-clade)
|
||||
* [The Marsh clade](#the-marsh-clade)
|
||||
* [Additional characters](#additional-characters)
|
||||
|
||||
## RJ Brewster / AwDae (ey/em)
|
||||
|
||||
A sound tech for the Soho Theatre Troupe, RJ Brewster was among the lost in the early 2100s. Ey, along with Dr. Carter Ramirez, was instrumental in bringing to light the origin of the lost and ending that whole saga. As a member of the furry subculture, ey commonly appeared online (and while lost) as an agender anthropomorphic fennec. Ey focused strongly on making eir avatar (or av) as realistic as possible, down to the inability to form the same consonants that a human mouth would.
|
||||
@ -73,9 +78,35 @@ Another skunk-type Odist, Praiseworthy focused on shaping sentiment early on in
|
||||
|
||||
Commonly described as shitheads, Why Ask Questions and Answers Will Not Help shaped sentiment, with the former focusing on building camaraderie sys-side and the latter working via the text line to build support phys-side. Both are templated after the human Michelle rather than <span class="spoiler">the skunk Sasha</span><i class="spoiler-warn"></i>.
|
||||
|
||||
### I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass
|
||||
|
||||
An ex-systech who got tired of the politics involved, Dry Grass is a pretty standard human-type Odist. Hammered Silver's stanza focused on feelings of motherhood in all forms, which led to Dry Grass treating the whole of the System as her baby. She forked into In The Wind, who stayed on as a systech, and <span class="spoiler">was killed in the Century Attack in 2400</span><i class="spoiler-warn"></i>
|
||||
|
||||
### Time Is A Finger Pointing At Itself
|
||||
|
||||
A Finger Pointing is human-type Odist who has devoted herself to theatre. She's described as a somewhat taller, somewhat more slender human Odist, dressing chic and modern, but with a simple desire to be everyone's friend.
|
||||
A Finger Pointing is human-type Odist who has devoted herself to theatre. She's described as a somewhat taller, somewhat more slender human Odist, dressing chic and modern, but with a simple desire to be everyone's friend. She is the executive director and administrator for Au Lieu Du Rêve, a theatre troupe that she started early on but which has grown to include several thousand members. Flamboyant and dramatic, she suffers from bouts of intense dissociation due to merging a crashing instance in the early 2300s. In a long-running relationship with Beholden, and one of Motes's two guardians.
|
||||
|
||||
<figure style="text-align: center">
|
||||
<img src="/img/gallery/lounge.png"/>
|
||||
<figcaption style="font-size: 60%; opacity: 0.8">“...perhaps I hum little snippets of music to you, conducting with my finger as though that will better portray my intent.”</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
### Where It Watches The Slow Hours Progress
|
||||
|
||||
The clade's oracle and prophetess. Her predictions are less bound up in actual prophecy than the fact that, as Au Lieu Du Rêve's script manager, she has read a *lot* and can offer insights based on generalizations from those stories. Still, many come to her for advice and for her emotional openness.
|
||||
|
||||
### And We Are The Motes In The Stage-Lights
|
||||
|
||||
The babiest Odist, Motes has focused her existence on play, leading to her often appearing as a young skunk, anywhere from seven to twelve. This transgressive act has caused quite a bit of drama over the years. When she isn't little, she appears as a lithe twenty-something human, often in a flower crown and flowing skirt. Big flower-child energy. She treats A Finger Pointing and Beholden as her 'parents', calling them 'Ma' and 'Bee'.
|
||||
|
||||
<figure style="text-align: center">
|
||||
<img src="/img/gallery/motes.png"/>
|
||||
<figcaption style="font-size: 60%; opacity: 0.8">“<em>Maaa~</em>” Motes whined. “I am a grown up!”</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
### Beholden To The Heat Of The Lamps
|
||||
|
||||
A skunk-type Odist who is a sound tech and musician for Au Lieu Du Rêve, A Finger Pointing's partner, and the other of Motes's two guardians. She's brash and snarky, and has trouble restraining the hotter emotions due to the way she engages with the System.
|
||||
|
||||
## The Bălan clade
|
||||
|
||||
@ -110,33 +141,33 @@ An occasional instance inspired by Debarre's habit of keeping a fork for his rel
|
||||
## The Marsh clade
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
### Marsh (he/him)
|
||||
### Marsh (they/them)
|
||||
|
||||
Having gotten sick of the process of transition and uploading in the early 2220s, Marsh Hanson quickly settled in on the system, forking three times over and largely living vicariously through his forks while he focused primarily on singing and enjoying the laid-back life with his partners. In a relationship with Vos and Pierre LaFontaine.
|
||||
Having gotten sick of the process of transition and uploading in the early 2220s, Marsh Hanson quickly settled in on the system, forking three times over and largely living vicariously through their forks while they focused primarily on singing and enjoying the laid-back life with their partners. In a relationship with Vos and Pierre LaFontaine. <span class="spoiler">They were killed in the Century Attack in 2400.</span><i class="spoiler-warn"></i>
|
||||
|
||||
### Reed (he/him)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!* In a relationship with Hanne Marie.
|
||||
Marsh's first fork, remaining transmasc after Marsh had (at first) adopted a cis-male appearance. In a relationship with Hanne Marie.
|
||||
|
||||
### Lily (she/her)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!*
|
||||
Marsh's second fork, who went back to cis-female. Kind of hates the Odists, tbh.
|
||||
|
||||
### Cress (they/them)
|
||||
### Cress (it/its)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!* In a relationship with I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade along with Tule.
|
||||
Marsh's third fork, who gave gender a miss entirely. It has adopted the identity of the littlest Marshan, and is a bit of a gremlin. In a relationship with I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade along with Tule.
|
||||
|
||||
### Rush (ve/ver)
|
||||
### Rush (ve/ver/vis)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!*
|
||||
One of Reed's two forks, Rush is keenly interested in sims and sim artistry, and quickly becomes friends with Serene.
|
||||
|
||||
### Tule (she/her)
|
||||
### Tule (he/him)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!* In a relationship with I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade along with Cress.
|
||||
Sedge's up-tree, and a bit of a brat. He returned to a cis-masc identity. In a relationship with I Remember The Rattle Of Dry Grass of the Ode clade along with Cress.
|
||||
|
||||
### Sedge (he/him)
|
||||
### Sedge (she/her)
|
||||
|
||||
*Coming soon!*
|
||||
Reed's other fork, focused on people and society.
|
||||
|
||||
## Relationships
|
||||
|
||||
@ -183,7 +214,7 @@ A 'net addict and DDR (Direct Democracy Representative) junkie from Addis Ababa,
|
||||
|
||||
### Sarah Genet (she/her)
|
||||
|
||||
Sarah is a psychologist and one of the emissaries chosen to meet with the Artemisians. She later becomes a mentor for Codrin as ey works on moving towards psychology as a career. She's described as having short, gray hair and wearing business casual sorts of clothes.
|
||||
Sarah is a psychologist and one of the emissaries chosen to meet with the Artemisians. She later becomes a mentor for Codrin as ey works on moving towards psychology as a career. She's described as an indigenous Canadian woman, with long black-and-gray hair and darker skin, often wearing business casual, though she tends to meet with her clients with an appearance that matches their mode of interaction..
|
||||
|
||||
### Debarre (he/him)
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
@ -20,14 +20,17 @@ Clade
|
||||
Cocladist
|
||||
: Used to refer to another member of the same clade. Up-, down-, and cross-tree are used to refer to the relation between the two cocladists: an up-tree instances is one that is descended from the individual, a down-tree instance is one from whom the individual is descended, and a cross-tree instance is one who shares the same down-tree instance but who isn't a descendent or an ancestor.
|
||||
|
||||
Collective
|
||||
: A group of individuals who emulate the idea of clades phys-side, doing their best to maintain a tree-like hierarchy, share common names, and so on. Many also resent the System and refuse to upload.
|
||||
|
||||
Cone of silence
|
||||
: A mechanic on the System that prevents others from hearing what those within the cone are saying. As of 2349, it is also possible to opaque or blur the contents of the cone from the outside, and to prevent the transmission of sensorium messages.
|
||||
|
||||
Conflict
|
||||
: During the process of merging, memories and ideas between the up- and down-tree instances will differ, if only by physical point of view. The more these instances diverge, the more these differences will cause conflicts, whether in how they remember things or how they think about things. During merging, this takes effort to rectify internally.
|
||||
|
||||
Collective
|
||||
: A group of individuals who emulate the idea of clades phys-side, doing their best to maintain a tree-like hierarchy, share common names, and so on. Many also resent the System and refuse to upload.
|
||||
Contraproprioceptive Virus (CPV)
|
||||
: A virus, usually used to assassinate an instance, which disrupts the instance's sense of proprioception to the point where they either crash or quit out of pain. Usually attached to a symbolic object such as a knife or syringe, the virus must be tailored to the recipient, and the object must pierce their skin; the System works based on the collected assumptions of its inhabitants, so something that causes one to break apart must first break the integrity of the target.
|
||||
|
||||
Dispersionista
|
||||
: An individual who enjoys individuation on the System. They will fork and allow their forks to diverge from themselves without any goal of letting them merge back down.
|
||||
|
||||
@ -13,7 +13,7 @@ Spoilers for the Post-Self Cycle itself are marked as such: <span class="spoiler
|
||||
: The first partially successful upload, <span class="spoiler">RJ Brewster,</span><i class="spoiler-warn"></i> leads to a breakthrough and, shortly after, the foundation of the System.
|
||||
|
||||
2117 --- ???
|
||||
* Michelle Hadje and Debarre pool their money to upload.
|
||||
: Michelle Hadje and Debarre pool their money to upload.
|
||||
|
||||
2124 --- January 1
|
||||
: Systime set at year zero, day zero in order to help manage the reputation market.
|
||||
|
||||
@ -30,6 +30,10 @@ While the climate has continued to suffer, with temperatures slowing to a linear
|
||||
|
||||
Earth is described as a 'shithole'. Global warming has proceeded to the pace where much of the population below a certain latitude lives below-ground, though many have simply moved towards the poles. Air quality is...not great, and many spend as much time as possible on the 'net in sims, with children getting implants at around 5 years old, though the minimum upload age remains 18.
|
||||
|
||||
### Late 2300s
|
||||
|
||||
Thanks to the sudden influx of information from Artemis, efforts to control the ongoing climate disaster gain traction and thus success, leading to the increasing global temperatures stalling and massive success with the ocean deacidification projects in the mid 2700s. This in turn leads to a slight slowing in the rate of new uploads.
|
||||
|
||||
## The System
|
||||
|
||||
Created in the early 2100s, the System (a vague name to keep the original project secret, though one which stuck around) allows for uploaded consciousnesses to live functionally immortal lives.
|
||||
@ -122,6 +126,6 @@ As with any social system, conflict happens. People don't like each other. They
|
||||
<figcaption style="font-size: 60%; opacity: 0.8;">“Fucking stop! You cannot–”</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
The one exception to being killed on the System is through a subtle virus which will crash one's instance. This virus must be tailored to the individual it's meant for and is not trivial to produce, so instances of such death are rare. It's most commonly associated with symbolic objects such as syringes or knives rather than poison; as always, having the symbol be recognized as one that can cause damage is often part of the process.
|
||||
The one exception to being killed on the System is through a subtle virus known as a contraproprioceptive virus (or CPV) which will crash one's instance. This virus must be tailored to the individual it's meant for and is not trivial to produce, so instances of such death are rare. It's most commonly associated with symbolic objects such as syringes or knives rather than poison; as always, having the symbol be recognized as one that can cause damage is often part of the process.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
68
content/about/writing.md
Normal file
68
content/about/writing.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,68 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Writing in the Post-Self Universe
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
So you've gone and read [the Post-Self cycle](/cycle) stories, checked out [*Clade*](https://clade.post-self.ink), read up on the [setting](/about/universe) and [timeline](/about/timeline), maybe even taken a peek at some of the [extras](/extras). Are you interested in creating canon material for the Post-Self universe? Wonderful! The setting is open to allow for exploration of topics that are important to all. Here are some guidelines for creating works to be incorporated into the canon.
|
||||
|
||||
The Lost
|
||||
:
|
||||
During 2112, hundreds of individuals wound up trapped within the implants they used to interact with the immersive portions of the Internet, thanks to a virus triggered by elements of the Western Federation. These individuals, known as *the lost*, were left changed once they were pulled back to reality.
|
||||
|
||||
* *Each subjective experience is unique* — While RJ and Michelle's experiences were detailed in *Qoheleth*, the experience of each of the lost was unique while embedded. There are some shared features, such as a dreamlike quality to their time spent in there and a sense of it being an eternity within that dream, as well as complete solitude. Beyond that, what they actually see, hear, touch, and so on within that experience is unique
|
||||
* *There are permanent effects* — All of the lost were left changed by what they experienced while trapped. As stated, all of their experiences are unique, but there are some shared features:
|
||||
* Language: due to the strange way in which language works within our dreams, each of the lost experiences a unique relationship with language after being pulled back. RJ, for instance, is left with a helpless compulsion to speak lines of poetry, while Michelle and the Odists were left with an allergy to using contractions and a somewhat topsy-turvy engagement with grammar.
|
||||
* Between dreaming and waking: the boundary between the conscious and subconscious within the lost is thinner, with the logic of dreams tending to linger with them. They may feel confusion in engaging with the waking world, a desire to return to the dream experience, or even difficulty interacting with a world bound by rules that dreams ignore.
|
||||
* *All of those who didn't die uploaded* — Of those who were lost, many committed suicide within the years between 2112. Of those who did not, all uploaded within the first years of the System's creation.
|
||||
|
||||
The System
|
||||
:
|
||||
Most of the stories within the setting take place in the world of uploaded consciousnesses known colloquially as 'the System'.
|
||||
|
||||
* *The key mechanics* — The key mechanics of the System (forking and merging, exocortices, the perisystem architecture, sensoria, cones of silence, the relative perfection of memory, etc) are known by all of the inhabitants via their introductory orientation when they are first uploaded. The same is not necessarily true phys-side, where many hold grand (and sometimes dangerous) views of what life must be like on the System.
|
||||
* *True anarchy* — The society aboard Lagrange, Castor, and Pollux borders on a true anarchy. While there are some efforts to steer the general track of the society, they tend toward maintaining that anarchy rather than enforcing any core rule. Even the two specified organizations who poke at this, The Council of Eight in the System's early days and The Guiding Council on the Pollux launch vehicle, in theory act only as advisory bodies. The Guiding Council does take a far more governance-oriented role near the end of the 2300s.
|
||||
* *A collection of varied societies* — Homogeneity is impossible in a System full of, by 2400, more than two trillion people. After all, should one build up a shared set of ideals, one might as well congregate with like-minded people. A set of linked Jesuit sims? Climate activist groups? Furry nightclubs? The answer is yes.
|
||||
* *A species divided* — Life phys-side back on Earth continues much as it has. While climate change continues to wreak havoc, people still live out their lives reading, writing, loving, hating, cooking shitting breakfasts for each other. Death remains a constant, life remains something to cling to. Many upload, of course, perhaps leaning on the subsidies offered by governments, but many do not.
|
||||
|
||||
The Launch
|
||||
:
|
||||
In 2325, two separate, smaller copies of the System were launched, sent in either direction across the orbital plane. Castor and Pollux quickly made their way away from Earth while the L<sub>5</sub> System — now called Lagrange — remained behind.
|
||||
|
||||
* *Three Systems* — One consequence of having these three Systems moving forward is that they quickly began to diverge. This was not just accounted for but, for many, an explicit goal. After two decades, Pollux began to loosen some of its social strictures and gained a leading body in the Guiding Council while Castor maintained much of the status quo until the arrival of the Artemisians.
|
||||
* *Transmission delay* — With the high speed of the two LVs (nearly 1,400 kilometers per second), the transmission delay between Castor and Pollux and Lagrange quickly grows so that, by 2400, a message sent from Castor would arrive at Lagrange nearly four months later.
|
||||
|
||||
Artemis
|
||||
:
|
||||
First contact happened in 2346 when a new vehicle containing uploaded consciousnesses contacted Castor, one of the two launch vehicles sent out in 2325. Dubbed Artemis, several of the Artemisians wound up joining Castor on its journey, while several from Castor joined the Artemisians.
|
||||
|
||||
* *Four new races, one new System* — Four separate uploaded races live aboard Artemis, each picked up as the vehicle passed by a planetary system with an uploaded population. After convergence, humanity joined as fifthrace as many on Castor uploaded to Artemis.
|
||||
* *Convergence* — When Artemis made contact, there was an exchange of emissaries between the two Systems. The result of these meetings was the joining of the five races, known as convergence. Artemisians were allowed to upload to Castor to remain in a restricted zone of the System, also known as Convergence. Anyone who wished to join from the rest of Castor was allowed as well. Similarly, anyone from Castor was allowed to join the Artemisians aboard their craft in turn.
|
||||
* *Skew* — Rather than having forking as an available mechanic, those who live on Artemis may individually skew their engagement with time. That is, one may skew positive so that they exist within the system at a faster rate than common time.
|
||||
* *The Council of Ten* — Two representatives per race aboard Artemis were selected to act as part of a mediating and guiding body. While often described as purely a group to provide assistance and mediation, it's suggested that they also gently govern the races aboard without explicitly acknowledging such. This is echoed in Convergence, the location aboard the LV Castor where several Artemisians remain behind, though this remains a far more anarchic mediating body.
|
||||
|
||||
## The world is built for this
|
||||
|
||||
Queerness
|
||||
: The Post-Self setting is aggressively and explicitly queer. This is a place to explore identity through romance — monogamous and polyamorous — gender, species, plurality, anything. If it can be queered, please queer it! The System makes an attractive target for queer identities, after all. Does a trans character transition further sys-side, or do they revel in that identity? Perhaps a plural character experiments with forking out singular identities, perhaps not. The setting is ripe for metafurry exploration — that is, furries themselves who upload and get to live their lives as their fursonas. The society is far, far more accepting of queer identities than today's, even phys-side.
|
||||
|
||||
Neurodivergence
|
||||
: As neurodivergence follows one along after uploading, this is an area ripe for exploration, whether that means finding ways to fork it away or finding ways to revel in it as an integral part of oneself.
|
||||
|
||||
Climate crisis
|
||||
: One big draw to the System is getting away from the worsening climate back on Earth. Even after it starts to level out (and even improve) after about 2350, the System offers greener grass. There are many stories to be told there.
|
||||
|
||||
The bittersweet
|
||||
: Uploading is one-way and destructive. There is a loss behind every upload. The System itself is built on the backs of the lost. Climate grief remains a real issue. Finding ways to deal with grief and yet find the sweet in one's new life is part and parcel of the setting.
|
||||
|
||||
Self-inserts
|
||||
: Imagine yourself in a world you could come to love. An open universe invites you to imagine what you — yes, you! — might do with such a setting just as much as it invites you to create new characters of your own or use those of others (with permission!). The concept of a 'Mary Sue' is a toxic remnant of machismo in geek spaces and should not prevent you from exploring a lovely existence for yourself.
|
||||
|
||||
## Reconsider before writing this
|
||||
|
||||
Violence
|
||||
: While there is some violence in the System, and obviously things remain somewhat difficult back phys-side, the core of the conflict should not boil down to or result in wanton violence. The goal is not to write of wars — political, ideological, religious, or turf — nor of punchy shooty explosiony action as the guiding plot-point. There are plenty fine settings for this; Post-Self simply is not one of them.
|
||||
|
||||
Bigotry
|
||||
: There are some taboos that remain, such as the one surrounding intraclade relationships (until about 2355), but there is little need to overcome adversity over identity sys-side. Explore these identities, yes. Explore the lingering effects of bigotry experienced phys-side, but there are stories of personal fulfillment to be had without necessarily focusing on these particular struggles. Actual transphobia, homophobia, racism, etc. on behalf of the authors is unwelcome and will be denounced.
|
||||
|
||||
Using other people's characters without asking
|
||||
: Try not to use other people's characters — even open clades such as the Ode clade — without asking. While many will say yes, this will have the added benefit of you being able to write more closely to the author's vision, as they will often have paracanon to share. Additionally, in some cases, these characters feature in the noemata of several individuals' headmates or personalities, and it's worth avoiding trampling on identities!
|
||||
@ -66,3 +66,15 @@ Even the grandest of stories can feel small and immediate when it's just one per
|
||||
One of the most well-known names from one of the most well-known clades on the System, the avatar of political machinations and cool confidence, has been brought low. With help coming only from Ioan Bălan and the most grudging of support from her cocladists, all True Name has left to save herself is the ability to change.
|
||||
|
||||
Features the bonus novella *Selected Letters*.
|
||||
|
||||
## Bonus Novella: [Motes Played](https://motes-played.post-self.ink)
|
||||
|
||||
Motes played.
|
||||
|
||||
She played because she was play. She played because that was her role in life, because that is just who she was. She played with color, played with life, played with death.
|
||||
|
||||
She played with fire.
|
||||
|
||||
Motes played, because how could she not?
|
||||
|
||||
***Coming soon!***
|
||||
|
||||
@ -3,24 +3,58 @@ title: Extras
|
||||
layout: single
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Extra Stories
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
dd {
|
||||
margin-bottom: 1rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd:after {
|
||||
content: '§';
|
||||
color: #ccc;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
width: 100%;
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd:last-of-type:after {
|
||||
display: none;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd p {
|
||||
font-size: 16pt;
|
||||
text-indent: 0;
|
||||
margin-top: 0.5rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd p:first-of-type {
|
||||
font-size: 18pt;
|
||||
}
|
||||
h2 {
|
||||
margin-top: 4rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
* ["Assignment"](assignment): Ioan Bălan — 2273
|
||||
* ["Meeting of One"](meeting-of-one): Ioan Bălan — 2309
|
||||
* ["How to Upload Your Consciousness to Physical Infrastructure Using Docker Compose"](https://www.digitalocean.com/community/tutorials/how-to-upload-your-consciousness-to-physical-infrastructure-using-docker-compose) (Non-canonical but heavily influenced 'tutorial' written for April Fool's Day 2022)
|
||||
## Additional writing
|
||||
|
||||
## Soundtracks
|
||||
[Post-Self stories](/stories)
|
||||
: Stories of all sorts written by members of the Post-Self community.
|
||||
|
||||
Each book within the Post-Self Cycle, as well as many of the other stories in the setting, was written with a song or playlist running on repeat — at least for the most part. Just a little something that helped the author set the mood. While these are hardly required to enjoy the writing, they're offered as a curiosity.
|
||||
[In-Character asks](ic-asks)
|
||||
: *Authors include [@makyo](https://cohost.org/makyo), [@hamratza](https://cohost.org/hamratza), and [@CERESUltra](https://cohost.org/CERESUltra).*
|
||||
|
||||
Questions asked of various Post-Self characters, answered by the characters themselves.
|
||||
|
||||
### Other, sillier things
|
||||
|
||||
["How to Upload Your Consciousness to Physical Infrastructure Using Docker Compose"](https://www.digitalocean.com/community/tutorials/how-to-upload-your-consciousness-to-physical-infrastructure-using-docker-compose)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
Non-canonical but heavily influenced 'tutorial' written for April Fool's Day 2022
|
||||
|
||||
## Materials
|
||||
|
||||
[Nanon](nanon)
|
||||
: The constructed language spoken by the Artemisians.
|
||||
|
||||
[Music](music)
|
||||
: Music that inspired or was inspired by Post-Self
|
||||
|
||||
* [*Qoheleth and Gallery Exhibition*](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5zRXvPUVxSuGjpzVu4N2Qw?si=8e5bdf5d974a4487) (Spotify)
|
||||
* [*Toledot*](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0irVoAkYEVR7LBrI9M1q5Z?si=1525f4d1b2c24195) (Spotify)
|
||||
* [*Nevi'im*](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5WqgcXtf6aIElLvwUskvAH?si=b6c7f22427044416) (Spotify)
|
||||
* [*Mitzvot*](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57ltPyWR4rRB65MHabWxVA?si=af174d0a468442e5) (Spotify)
|
||||
* ["Selected Letters"](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1QvvLpL09kGQMZnTstUD4f?si=b7637a76d39d43f7)
|
||||
* ["She Who Haunts the Storm"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lTYPvArbGo) (YouTube)
|
||||
* "Cowboy" - [1](https://open.spotify.com/track/62qiyZxpfg6wEIV6S5PE9y?si=1a6179b30b064d5a) (Spotify), [2](https://open.spotify.com/track/0HoaLXRp7jJtdQFunUyUGc?si=9ee056fef66e491c) (Spotify)
|
||||
* ["Support Group for Anomalies in Forking"](https://youtu.be/J0taTmgq3qw) (YouTube)
|
||||
|
||||
## The Post-Anthropocene
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
38
content/extras/calls/marsh-anthology.md
Normal file
38
content/extras/calls/marsh-anthology.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Call for submissions — Marsh anthology stories
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
One of the stretch goals for [the *Marsh* Kickstarter](https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/drabmakyo/marsh) is to fund additional short stories surrounding the events of [*Marsh*](https://marsh.post-self.ink) written by authors interested in the Post-Self setting. These stories will be included alongside *Marsh* or in a separate volume, depending on the response.
|
||||
|
||||
To that end, I am soliciting stories surrounding the sudden downtime and disappearance of cladists across Lagrange on New Year's Eve, 2399.
|
||||
|
||||
### The Details
|
||||
|
||||
Word count
|
||||
: Approximately 2,000–5,000 (please ask if you are planning on writing more; I will likely say yes!)
|
||||
|
||||
Payment
|
||||
: Flat fee of $50+[^1] and a copy of the book if accepted for print. All stories, regardless of whether they are accepted, are eligible to be included on the site as canon so long as everyone agrees.
|
||||
|
||||
Submission format
|
||||
: MS Word, LibreOffice, or Google Docs — basically, anything I can comment on. If you want to submit LaTeX or Markdown, good on ya~
|
||||
|
||||
Submission Deadline
|
||||
: Soft deadline: April 30, 2024 / Hard deadline: May 31, 2024
|
||||
|
||||
Estimated publication date
|
||||
: August 1, 2024
|
||||
|
||||
Please include
|
||||
: Your story and a short author bio
|
||||
|
||||
Please read
|
||||
: The [What is Post-Self?](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/What_is_Post-Self%3F) page, the [writing guide](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Writing_guide), and at least [the synopsis of *Marsh*](/extras/summaries). I will also provide the current draft of the book if you get in touch.
|
||||
|
||||
Consider joining
|
||||
: Either the Post-Self [Telegram Group](https://makyo.io/ps-telegram) or [Discord](https://makyo.io/ps-discord)
|
||||
|
||||
Submit by
|
||||
: DMing on either of the above platforms or by emailing <madison@makyo.ink>
|
||||
|
||||
[^1]: The Kickstarter left a larger pool of money, which will be split evenly among authors.
|
||||
1482
content/extras/ic-asks.md
Normal file
1482
content/extras/ic-asks.md
Normal file
File diff suppressed because it is too large
Load Diff
192
content/extras/muck.md
Normal file
192
content/extras/muck.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,192 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: The Post-Self MUCK
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
The Post-Self MUCK is an avenue for exploring the setting through roleplay. You can join us as a cladist on the Lagrange System in the year 2403 etc etc skunks write more here plox
|
||||
|
||||
## Where Am I?
|
||||
|
||||
This is the System, and you are a cladist, defined by your ability to fork into several duplicates of yourself on a whim, to merge or individuate as you will, and to live at ease in this consensual dream.
|
||||
|
||||
This MUCK is a roleplaying community meant to bring together those various readers of [Post-Self.ink](https://post-self.ink) who are interested in telling stories set in this world.
|
||||
|
||||
For those familiar with the setting, it is important to take note of the particular time and place in which we write: It is Systime 279, several years after the Century Attack that resulted in the irrevocable loss of approximately 1% of all instances on the Lagrange System.
|
||||
|
||||
## The First Minutes
|
||||
|
||||
Let us begin with an FAQ:
|
||||
|
||||
### How do I get out of here?
|
||||
|
||||
You can view various `sims` and `links` using their respective commands. Simply entering the name of one of them will send you to its destination.
|
||||
|
||||
If you just want out, your best bet is to write `square`.
|
||||
|
||||
### How do I talk?
|
||||
|
||||
The simple answer is `say <words>`. Sometimes what you want is to `pose <action>`. You can write `" <words>` instead of `say`, and `; <action>` instead of `pose`.
|
||||
|
||||
If you want your message not to begin with your name, you can use `@emit <narration>` or `\ <narration>` instead.
|
||||
|
||||
There is also `ooc <words>`, which will accept the format `ooc ; <action>`.
|
||||
|
||||
Lastly, you may have noticed the **[Public]** channel. You can participate by writing `pub <words>` or `pub ; <action>`.
|
||||
|
||||
### What should I do now?
|
||||
|
||||
You already know enough to jump in and roleplay! But the MUCK environment has so much more to offer.
|
||||
|
||||
You could, for instance, decide to write an `@desc me = <paragraph>` that people can see by at `look`ing at you. Use `%r` in place of newlines if you want multiple paragraphs.
|
||||
|
||||
## The First Hour
|
||||
|
||||
We should talk about getting around and communicating with others remotely.
|
||||
|
||||
### Join / Call
|
||||
|
||||
When you want to teleport to someone in particular, you can request to `join <player>` them. Alternatively, if you want to bring them to you, you can `call <player>` them.
|
||||
|
||||
If you receive such a request, you answer it with the same commands; the notification will generate the command for you, which you can paste into your input if you prefer.
|
||||
|
||||
### Page
|
||||
|
||||
You can read more detailed documentation for this command by writing `help page`, but the simplest case is `page <player> = <message>`. This lets you send a private message to someone. You can also `page <player> = ; <action>` to perform a page-pose.
|
||||
|
||||
### Exits
|
||||
|
||||
Exits are like doors. You can go through one by entering its name as a command. If there is an underlined part of the name, that is probably an abbreviation that will also work.
|
||||
|
||||
There should always be an exit called **<u>B</u>ack** that takes you closer to the central area in a given sim. **<u>O</u>ut** should likewise take you closer to the figurative street.
|
||||
|
||||
## The First Day
|
||||
|
||||
Now we are getting into the thick of settling in!
|
||||
|
||||
### Creating A Home
|
||||
|
||||
You should read `help @dig` for more details, but it is enough to write `@dig/teleport <name>` followed by `@link me = here`. This will create a new room and make it your `home`.
|
||||
|
||||
You can set an `@desc here = <paragraph>` for the room just like you set for yourself.
|
||||
|
||||
### Lost And Found
|
||||
|
||||
If you ever lose track of your things, you can use `@find` or `@search` to retrieve their DBRefs, which will work in commands no matter where you are in the System.
|
||||
|
||||
This is especially handy to `@teleport me = <DBRef>` to a room you own, or to `@tel <DBRef> = me` something you own into your `inventory`.
|
||||
|
||||
### Inventory Items
|
||||
|
||||
You can `@create <name>` a new object, which will appear in your inventory. You can `@desc` it, `@link <name> = me` it to yourself so it returns to you when sent home, `drop <name>` or `take <name>` it, `@lock <name> = me` it so only you can move it, and `@set <name> = <path>:<data>` its attributes.
|
||||
|
||||
Such an object is not particularly useful on its own, but there are clever things you can do with them if you are willing to get acquainted with softcode.
|
||||
|
||||
## The First Week
|
||||
|
||||
Finally, we should talk about building.
|
||||
|
||||
### Connecting Rooms
|
||||
|
||||
If you own two rooms and you want to connect them, you will need to `@open <directions> = <destination>, <returning directions>` a new exit.
|
||||
|
||||
For example, you might write,
|
||||
|
||||
@open %xuE%xnast; east; e = #1234, %xuW%xnest; west; w
|
||||
|
||||
This creates an exit where you stand called **<u>E</u>ast** that takes you to DBRef #1234, and a reciprocal exit called **<u>W</u>est** that returns to where you stand.
|
||||
|
||||
### Thinking About ANSI
|
||||
|
||||
Those percent signs were probably a little scary. You can read more about them with `help ansi substitution`. You can experiment with them using the `think <command>`, which will simply spit whatever you write back at you after evaluating any substitutions.
|
||||
|
||||
It is important to note that each client will show ANSI differently, if it supports it at all. Treat this as pretty garnish, and avoid colors entirely. The ones you are likely to use are `%xu` for underlining, `%xh` for bold, and `%xn`, which resets any styling.
|
||||
|
||||
You may be pleased to learn that these all work virtually anywhere, including when you speak!
|
||||
|
||||
## Forks
|
||||
|
||||
This is the System! Of **course** you can fork! Here is how that works:
|
||||
|
||||
### The Fork Command
|
||||
|
||||
Simply `fork [tag]` to produce a duplicate of yourself. If you do not include a tag, one will be randomly-generated instead.
|
||||
|
||||
This fork inherits nearly everything about you, in- and out-of-character. There are some technical limitations, however.
|
||||
|
||||
For one, a fork-of-a-fork can be made, but it will technically end up as your direct up-tree. This should not matter mechanically; it just makes things easier under the hood. Roleplay can do the rest.
|
||||
|
||||
The other catch is to do with individuation, which requires a different approach to controlling your fork. It is better to create another character if you intend to have a fork take on a new name. Your memories can be copied over by a `Wizard`.
|
||||
|
||||
### Wrangling Forks
|
||||
|
||||
To control a fork, you can write `> <tag> = <command>`. It will automatically set your default fork, which can be controlled by writing just `> <command>`. A fork can `quit`, which will automatically send a `merge` request to you.
|
||||
|
||||
### Memories
|
||||
|
||||
You can save a new memory by writing `memo [paragraph]`. If you do not include any text after the command, it will list all of your memories instead.
|
||||
|
||||
Memory merges **are** currently saved, but the command to address them has not yet been implemented. In the future, there will also be a `recall <filter>` command, which will let you search your memories for specific words.
|
||||
|
||||
## Softcode
|
||||
|
||||
Softcode is where things start to get real interesting, but to be perfectly honest, if you are not prepared to grind your nose against it for several hours, it is probably not the feature for you. You can ask for help from a `Wizard` if you need, of course, but it will take time for you to get comfortable using it. Be patient with yourself; this stuff is hard.
|
||||
|
||||
You can find an API containing most of the functions you can use on [the TinyMUX wiki](https://wiki.tinymux.org/index.php/Softcode_functions). You can also use `help <function()>` in the case of those many pages that were never copied onto the website.
|
||||
|
||||
Softcode is braided into plaintext to produce dynamic output. For instance, you could make your hair a different color every time someone looks at it, or create a watch that actually shows the time. You could make clothes that alter your description when put on, or a door that leads to a different destination based on the time of day. Softcode is flexible, but it is also kind of a pain to use.
|
||||
|
||||
Here is an example of how to use softcode:
|
||||
|
||||
think Two plus two equals [\spellnum( \add(2, 2) )]!
|
||||
|
||||
This will output:
|
||||
|
||||
> Two plus two equals four!
|
||||
|
||||
The only unique function this MUCK has so far is `systime()`, which simply outputs the in-character time like so: `279+270.43`.
|
||||
|
||||
These manuals have been given the `Visual` flag so that you can study how they work, if you need more examples. You can look into their inner workings with `examine <target>`.
|
||||
|
||||
## Pronouns
|
||||
|
||||
TinyMUX's built-in substitutions for pronouns are not great, so we have implemented our own.
|
||||
|
||||
### Setting Up Pronouns
|
||||
|
||||
You can write `pronouns` to see a list of all presets we have already. If what you are looking for is not there, feel free to ask a `Wizard` for help.
|
||||
|
||||
You may note that there are `Singular` and `Plural` options as well; these are important for setting up the grammar used when referring to you.
|
||||
|
||||
To select a preset, write `pronouns <preset>` and verify that the test string displays correctly.
|
||||
|
||||
**Using Pronouns**
|
||||
Virtually any text can include substitutions, and the functions are named so that they should be fairly readable. For example, if you have pronouns set to feminine:
|
||||
|
||||
[they(%#, 1)] [has(%#)] [they(%#)] / [them(%#)] pronouns.
|
||||
|
||||
will produce the output:
|
||||
|
||||
> she has she / her pronouns.
|
||||
|
||||
You can read about `%#` in `help substitutions`. Also, take note of the extra parameter in that first substitution, `[they(%#%xh, 1)]`. This is how you capitalize a substituted word.
|
||||
|
||||
### Pronoun Functions
|
||||
|
||||
These are the commands for inserting pronouns in your text using softcode.
|
||||
|
||||
`they()`, `them()`, `their()`, `theirs()`, `themself()`
|
||||
|
||||
### Conjugation Functions
|
||||
|
||||
These are the commands for properly conjugating verbs using softcode.
|
||||
|
||||
* ss() : `[they(%#)] walk[ss(%#)]` = they walk / ey walks
|
||||
* es() : `[they(%#)] go[es(%#)]` = they go / ey goes
|
||||
* is() : `[they(%#)] [is(%#)]` = they are / ey is
|
||||
* was() : `[they(%#)] [was(%#)]` = they were / ey was
|
||||
* has() : `[they(%#)] [has(%#)]` = they have / ey has
|
||||
|
||||
## Differences for users coming from MUCKs
|
||||
|
||||
* Instead of the `who`/`WHO` dichotomy, you can see who is in the room with you with `lwho`
|
||||
* Instead of `spoof <text>`, use `\ <text>`
|
||||
* You can still use `:` for posing. If you want the text to abut your name in poses (like for adding `'s`), use `;`.
|
||||
45
content/extras/music/_index.md
Normal file
45
content/extras/music/_index.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,45 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Playlists and music
|
||||
layout: single
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Canon
|
||||
|
||||
Each book within the Post-Self Cycle, as well as many of the other stories in the setting, was written with a song or playlist running on repeat — at least for the most part. Just a little something that helped the author set the mood. While these are hardly required to enjoy the writing, they're offered for completion's sake.
|
||||
* [*Qoheleth and Gallery Exhibition*](qoheleth) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5zRXvPUVxSuGjpzVu4N2Qw?si=8e5bdf5d974a4487))
|
||||
* [*Toledot*](toledot) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0irVoAkYEVR7LBrI9M1q5Z?si=1525f4d1b2c24195))
|
||||
* [*Nevi'im*](neviim) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5WqgcXtf6aIElLvwUskvAH?si=b6c7f22427044416))
|
||||
* [*Mitzvot*](mitzvot) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57ltPyWR4rRB65MHabWxVA?si=af174d0a468442e5))
|
||||
* ["Selected Letters"](selected-letters) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1QvvLpL09kGQMZnTstUD4f?si=b7637a76d39d43f7))
|
||||
* [*Marsh*](marsh) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/37NQwp1zOcjN7eANsbFwuz?si=2cfac81bc27f4ed9))
|
||||
* [*Motes Played*](motes-played) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zq0qWWk8VwNZj4YUePKBU?si=6ef6afd07b8942a9))
|
||||
* [*Idumea*]() — ([Spotify]())
|
||||
* ["She Who Haunts the Storm"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lTYPvArbGo) (YouTube)
|
||||
* "Cowboy" - [1](https://open.spotify.com/track/62qiyZxpfg6wEIV6S5PE9y?si=1a6179b30b064d5a) (Spotify), [2](https://open.spotify.com/track/0HoaLXRp7jJtdQFunUyUGc?si=9ee056fef66e491c) (Spotify)
|
||||
* ["Support Group for Anomalies in Forking"](https://youtu.be/J0taTmgq3qw) (YouTube)
|
||||
|
||||
Beyond those, ["Getting Lost"](/getting-lost.mp3) is a piece of music written a while back which became the official soundtrack for the "RJ getting lost" scene in *Qoheleth*.
|
||||
|
||||
## Characters
|
||||
|
||||
Character playlists are offered both to give a sense of the characters' moods when writing, but also, as many are constructed by fictive headmates, they give a sense of how the headmates fit into the system. Note that the pages are generated via an export tool, so the playlists themselves on Spotify may differ.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
* [A Finger Pointing](characters/a-finger-pointing) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2QYpTCKwIgEsKdS2inwa40?si=2b6332ae2b5e456c))
|
||||
* [Always Be True](characters/always-be-true) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6sZjQCew4KWDr2A5WH8GqY?si=e75f6ea9164a453f))
|
||||
* [Answers Will Not Help](characters/answers-will-not-help) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0FzQ5SfYOAT9lnc25j59pA?si=5e8ca90ca46549fb))
|
||||
* [Beholden](characters/beholden) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Ss7qZaqKcHMKIyW6BDIOJ?si=2113e9d0038d4d54))
|
||||
* [Dry Grass](characters/dry-grass) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/50CL0FiPgekXLmL8482CNY?si=438bc6db1d0a4467))
|
||||
* [E.W.](characters/e.w.) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1miAzrALWxOkGThXRWdcJv?si=d13cb68e2ca04e18))
|
||||
* [Hold My Name](characters/hold-my-name) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2ZmEkZn2i29GB2UVUpyPJX?si=dae11a8656db4781))
|
||||
* [In The Wind](characters/in-the-wind) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3sFDlp0ag3MoNCwOtcgcql?si=487ae4616df34b60))
|
||||
* [Motes](characters/motes) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4am3VwkPeIoEisnZmlxRdy?si=11e2607918b24ff4))
|
||||
* [No Longer Myself](characters/no-longer-myself) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6deOHtEuROJ1KnWgz8F6qG?si=98647eb0c17d43a0))
|
||||
* [Rye](characters/rye) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0dMbsWYzA6ikZzrE4KUxEs?si=db907bf4a3034fc6))
|
||||
* [Slow Hours](characters/slow-hours) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TQnMa1oCg4IZahkgE5xPz?si=36349bd5ec1b4cdf))
|
||||
* [True Name#Convergence](characters/true-name-tagged-convergence) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1HbG94v5v1bTbhxvhwWpzK?si=bead9b526ef34afa))
|
||||
* [Warmth In Fire](characters/warmth-in-fire) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0ibAeEhpT8z72TjY09b8E7?si=5680a91de60743fe))
|
||||
* [What Right Have I](characters/what-right-have-i) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6PDUAk3udMZhPAWZXYRcfe?si=4ae948eeb7e946bb))
|
||||
* [When I Dream](characters/when-i-dream) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6CaNEK3PFX0Yf13eU8eeBA?si=5e8ca36318894ff0))
|
||||
* [Why Ask Questions](characters/why-ask-questions) — ([Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/57rJvNrpPa3cdvP7uCHO3T?si=97c23893c9e74584))
|
||||
|
||||
111
content/extras/music/characters/a-finger-pointing.md
Normal file
111
content/extras/music/characters/a-finger-pointing.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,111 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: A Finger Pointing's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | KOAN Sound | [Liquid Levity](https://open.spotify.com/track/4GZlLTrZY7rU7iTaFkvBQi)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [Page One](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W1dZcvhTJbZ6kQYB6SvM0)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Ode To The Big Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/7bRUWmwVk8zpZtWfER4DjW)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Malika](https://open.spotify.com/track/1rFmHtg8I3YxF22TFkbOKP)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Bridge](https://open.spotify.com/track/5OI6WSmcih616fK3njeXUJ)
|
||||
 | Men I Trust | [Show Me How](https://open.spotify.com/track/01TyFEZu6mHbffsVfxgrFn)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [For Fork's Sake](https://open.spotify.com/track/6PEkG1LPQyGVQ5oygu06eO)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Airborne](https://open.spotify.com/track/60W51PvuIPnEZFeDxUQYvZ)
|
||||
 | The Flashbulb | [Morning Run](https://open.spotify.com/track/42ABM8zfyW0FAZiozJO5Dz)
|
||||
 | aYia | [Ruins](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JhEXmr3ncmiQkQZW74Wza)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Carnivores Unite](https://open.spotify.com/track/56oUD9ZzgSSDFgvLHxoWyZ)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Rainbow Rhodes](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VEJWBbeBbOX6N0UwXlM3x)
|
||||
 | BADBADNOTGOOD, Leland Whitty | [Confessions (feat. Leland Whitty)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1K5RjfNOb6OLnQcAUv6M6b)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Ashes in the Hudson](https://open.spotify.com/track/6IWLG6T4gRPxT8WQ1dS1F2)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Lord of Them Thangs](https://open.spotify.com/track/1K7jVq5hzZBpMnIk0ptsFx)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Boundary Issues](https://open.spotify.com/track/3MF02Y0lVDHnpmz3u0nlwQ)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Greetings and Incelutations](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qF55f0MwuBq6UKuTlj7sH)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [The Candy Tangerine Man](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Vh6OLJT82qI74sD6ha38l)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Let's Play the Feud!](https://open.spotify.com/track/4YNtqYKNGQnpSvAFLWyK6E)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Werewolves Love Astrology](https://open.spotify.com/track/6h5b7Xb7SZcdDhVRiEXUrK)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Chocolate Lovely](https://open.spotify.com/track/4C8GnT67x8TIdU0WGBGMi8)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Man With The Movie Camera](https://open.spotify.com/track/5JB5F9iGwQqALGClKdeOky)
|
||||
 | Bill Laurance | [The Good Things](https://open.spotify.com/track/7drkN9v3cX4CqA8gTq3pPB)
|
||||
 | Camo & Krooked, Mefjus, Sophie Lindinger | [No Tomorrow](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KaYnQBP5CUorQKKuKmRUO)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | ['64 aka Go](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ycMDFsh41kYb20qMpcaYP)
|
||||
 | Dusty Brown | [This City Is Killing Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sIVrEY8WNhQNpON9BmXTd)
|
||||
 | ALEPH | [R.E.M.](https://open.spotify.com/track/62eu93RUHKTIg9bm6VZ6WS)
|
||||
 | Telefon Tel Aviv | [When It Happens, It Moves All by Itself](https://open.spotify.com/track/3iWujTdDJSoD5szrWFGaRF)
|
||||
 | SOHN | [Life Behind Glass](https://open.spotify.com/track/6f9qcrWRocvwwCJmXTgrDb)
|
||||
 | London Grammar | [Leave the War With Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/5TcC7QvyRQfoIImqtgkY6n)
|
||||
 | Mega Mango | [Boggle](https://open.spotify.com/track/6FEisGZPcJyGwSpuhH1fMx)
|
||||
 | phonon | [emme](https://open.spotify.com/track/3p15F46vmAIGEdwHEApt4i)
|
||||
 | Bear Ghost, Dan E.T. | [Rivers Is A Vampire](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Ej4QdOFpwulV2GPWbfp6T)
|
||||
 | Alamaailman Vasarat | [Kebab Tai Henki!](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i80bt0e0qtfuYDUJe2mjG)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Waltz (Better Than Fine)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7neXV046ou4CNN9wyFAED6)
|
||||
 | Melt Yourself Down | [Fix My Life](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iDydsj3Vdz4qg785ZUtvb)
|
||||
 | YACHT | [I Walked Alone](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kfSLLnpy0dADpQMYNRGBM)
|
||||
 | Daedelus | [Order of the Golden Dawn](https://open.spotify.com/track/35y3vuKI65sR7xDN1Bmms5)
|
||||
 | Tomasz Stanko Quartet | [Kattorna](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ADj39oPKmDPh7jyXHexc5)
|
||||
 | Boom Bip | [The Use of Unacceptable Colours In Nature](https://open.spotify.com/track/40AV6TtV4wwy5SpC2pwue1)
|
||||
 | Dave Brubeck | [40 Days](https://open.spotify.com/track/11lsAp77IGBuiBNiZXxG5K)
|
||||
 | Long Arm | [Double Bass in Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/3LPkWEdyDKmHM5SkMzSeZP)
|
||||
 | Skalpel | [Sculpture](https://open.spotify.com/track/7sftbhGr5Zffdmfqc8Vn3r)
|
||||
 | Clark | [Secret](https://open.spotify.com/track/21bLnN0PsCgWfXfNEQf70n)
|
||||
 | Siriusmo | [Liu](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JFBwzNht1BKVJVJLG44Cm)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Animal Chin](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IjHy89TBmOOK8nXYgqqo7)
|
||||
 | Shigeto | [First Saturn Return](https://open.spotify.com/track/3tfnKNTdXxLzllMod7gDFN)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Flite](https://open.spotify.com/track/1g7bl2LDCom7jtX2EmHRSF)
|
||||
 | Savath & Savalas | [Te Quiero Pero Por Otro Lado…](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ihEokHX5A4ZSgEOJu7gky)
|
||||
 | Oliver Nelson | [Stolen Moments](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sce5VJvCOYYDAR9rp9KdG)
|
||||
 | Ibrahim Maalouf | [Will Soon Be a Woman (Live au Babylon Istanbul, 2013)](https://open.spotify.com/track/64xWIjAe9NhyJCSqQWzp9s)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Praying 2 Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NuF9WI6vGQTQBC6CWCK81)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Ewà Inú](https://open.spotify.com/track/6dSoU34pWjbjZG2gt9gnqH)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Dide O](https://open.spotify.com/track/7COHkKOtDI7qSl5tIBaZYN)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Soul Searching](https://open.spotify.com/track/3N7ytAAHbxItaopO4YYULB)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Those Good Times](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qXrlThrUo2ePdQ1KUHGiU)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Interlude](https://open.spotify.com/track/7KPa4A0Lfo8AuxKhj2OBUi)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Something's Going On](https://open.spotify.com/track/7e9ReVRPkkpBGG4R1as4xI)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Ti-de](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Hkcul01Ct8ToAZkc71Ktf)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Uman](https://open.spotify.com/track/6PcUrU7NeRBg7i1GPE1Wyu)
|
||||
 | João Donato | [Manha de Carnaval](https://open.spotify.com/track/0kfdvJhyb0QHBG1IM9Vlht)
|
||||
 | Elis Regina, Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Só Tinha De Ser Com Você](https://open.spotify.com/track/209ucYTS6vWEV5iydrHiOt)
|
||||
 | Elis Regina, Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Fotografia](https://open.spotify.com/track/4O2tMlIxlgRwmNQDElwIq4)
|
||||
 | Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Children's Games](https://open.spotify.com/track/0oiNDJWFLPQoAm35OwT66P)
|
||||
 | beabadoobee | [the perfect pair](https://open.spotify.com/track/41P6Tnd8KIHqON0QIydx6a)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK | [SMiLE](https://open.spotify.com/track/1HJXdfuWc6IlKBMLtITaHD)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK | [WHATUP](https://open.spotify.com/track/4VOWwshTx9YrUpAGD9IzqA)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK, Thundercat | [BOWLiNG (feat. Thundercat)](https://open.spotify.com/track/3Sk51FK0sTdiRQN477u5oq)
|
||||
 | Robert Glasper, Q-Tip, Esperanza Spalding | [Why We Speak [Feat. Q-Tip & Esperanza Spalding]](https://open.spotify.com/track/7tQESAjUFNA4vi6xVOTjoQ)
|
||||
 | All Day Breakfast Cafe | [What If Nile Rodgers And Fela Kuti Were Friends](https://open.spotify.com/track/3VeOPOlEAwZU0d4jBMcBbA)
|
||||
 | Camilla George, SANITY, Daru Jones | [Creation - Abasi and Atai](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Yjaf4MMGPFiEQgAO0WrQ0)
|
||||
 | The Comet Is Coming | [LUCID DREAMER](https://open.spotify.com/track/0mubGHecC0YHTmO2pp9EJ1)
|
||||
 | atlas, Flavors | [valentine (prod. flavors)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mpv8gh1F6B7e2OdytGZ6l)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Memory](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gOMB2W8ylgZkuQFagFsx2)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Haywyre, CoMa | [Time](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BjfvCbE0KIHenBZdd1Wxn)
|
||||
 | Haywyre, Galimatias | [Voice of Reason](https://open.spotify.com/track/3NwRDwchI8iCk8Ru3gpUoV)
|
||||
 | Moonchild | [The List](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mWh956KP56IWMbLBfxdqj)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Mobius Streak](https://open.spotify.com/track/08o9yCplgxLM11ymhvkbl8)
|
||||
 | PJ Morton, Yebba | [How Deep Is Your Love (feat. Yebba) - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3SjAiqAQ6sMmsJBeVw0nMf)
|
||||
 | Dana and Alden, quickly\, quickly | [Coconut Water](https://open.spotify.com/track/48HATQmXssKoCAqhaFjtAh)
|
||||
 | Clara Mendes | [Útil Paisagem](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DuE8wVFGkhuA5GmZqkZcz)
|
||||
 | Thundercat | [Them Changes](https://open.spotify.com/track/7CH99b2i1TXS5P8UUyWtnM)
|
||||
 | Buke & Gase | [Houdini Crush](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Rejc9qWWqmQC3Hb0aGeEz)
|
||||
 | Justice | [D.A.N.C.E](https://open.spotify.com/track/33yAEqzKXexYM3WlOYtTfQ)
|
||||
38
content/extras/music/characters/always-be-true.md
Normal file
38
content/extras/music/characters/always-be-true.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Always Be True's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Andrew Prahlow | [14.3 Billion Years](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Pk74EH6WUornCtIoP12jE)
|
||||
 | Andrew Rannells, Christian Borle, Anthony Rosenthal, Brandon Uranowitz, Stephane J. Block | [Four Jews in a Room Bitching](https://open.spotify.com/track/1IhyIwuRWe47j5ZABC24tx)
|
||||
 | The Beatles | [Michelle - Remastered 2009](https://open.spotify.com/track/0FARfrl2IDyNURBj1reFWQ)
|
||||
 | Jeanine Tesori, Lisa Kron, Sydney Lucas, Beth Malone | [Ring of Keys](https://open.spotify.com/track/2zTjKIhgvU7mt6pbkWdzhi)
|
||||
 | Beyoncé | [If I Were a Boy](https://open.spotify.com/track/2jppsxdHlNHz9eK0QyYlTq)
|
||||
 | Born Ruffians | [Foxes Mate For Life](https://open.spotify.com/track/2jOnBMPY88OwEHnJIVjMuY)
|
||||
 | The Beatles | [Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds - 2017 Mix](https://open.spotify.com/track/4GX8I8c7gMZn7mZFM9QAs0)
|
||||
 | Christian Borle, Andrew Rannells, Anthony Rosenthal, Stephanie J. Block, Brandon Uranowitz | [This Had Better Come to a Stop](https://open.spotify.com/track/2lmlN7z7rK8tddQvFzbmWs)
|
||||
 | Anthony Rosenthal, Christian Borle, Stephanie J. Block, Andrew Rannells | [My Father's a Homo / Everyone Tells Jason to See a Psychiatrist](https://open.spotify.com/track/2kFZN70FYGSPCTbDtcD29V)
|
||||
 | Jukebox The Ghost | [Under My Skin](https://open.spotify.com/track/0EBBt2OSiGanyjPMcU5UBW)
|
||||
 | Idina Menzel, Anthony Rapp | [Some Other Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/3yjuNPkPEJSfMbPbp4xjR3)
|
||||
 | Car Seat Headrest | [Beach Life-In-Death](https://open.spotify.com/track/27aQH9DIJ3ozx3dC91Hhjg)
|
||||
35
content/extras/music/characters/answers-will-not-help.md
Normal file
35
content/extras/music/characters/answers-will-not-help.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,35 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Answers Will Not Help's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Men I Trust | [Show Me How](https://open.spotify.com/track/01TyFEZu6mHbffsVfxgrFn)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Hot Knife](https://open.spotify.com/track/4eZPjR0dLEYvH5Ku26rnLi)
|
||||
 | Gábor Szabó | [Galatea's Guitar - 2022 Remastered Version](https://open.spotify.com/track/6L2EhnRo0GsLQknFiN5HYD)
|
||||
 | Caribou | [Bees](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ZKI571IyBKZPHq1UiQ2Sw)
|
||||
 | Battles | [Tonto](https://open.spotify.com/track/1LyVKKl0Xe1QUpl78z9Bmj)
|
||||
 | Major Parkinson | [Night Hitcher](https://open.spotify.com/track/02rInvPDZSn2YWzIJGRjHL)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
 | Lusine | [Jetstream](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zF983pbnmNCo9SnikVVJK)
|
||||
 | Disasterpeace, Aaron Cherof | [Nocturne](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ny5FWPgPjTtgJlkQqpL27)
|
||||
89
content/extras/music/characters/beholden.md
Normal file
89
content/extras/music/characters/beholden.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,89 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Beholden's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [For Fork's Sake](https://open.spotify.com/track/6PEkG1LPQyGVQ5oygu06eO)
|
||||
 | Chrome Sparks | [Marijuana](https://open.spotify.com/track/63PEsIWyy3QgiPy4u5I9pG)
|
||||
 | Floex | [Veronika's Dream](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Wn5jRULq1MDfPrCAFVoDH)
|
||||
 | Owen Pallett | [Lewis Takes Action](https://open.spotify.com/track/0KLqnvSoVbaACrINlRSQma)
|
||||
 | Kyroshie | [Please Tell Me It's A Joke](https://open.spotify.com/track/3deGyGagr9nKqWGNwP3zn6)
|
||||
 | Florence + The Machine | [Dog Days Are Over](https://open.spotify.com/track/1YLJVmuzeM2YSUkCCaTNUB)
|
||||
 | The Temper Trap | [Sweet Disposition](https://open.spotify.com/track/5RoIXwyTCdyUjpMMkk4uPd)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Stereomission](https://open.spotify.com/track/2bEFcAISP2KpoWCiWI6Pzc)
|
||||
 | Have A Nice Life | [A Quick One Before the Eternal Worm Devours Connecticut](https://open.spotify.com/track/34dkZZNQJzEJRqPkywYmEY)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Give Them Their Flowers](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Jk4YA2grRN78jjyT9uGmM)
|
||||
 | Anna Ternheim | [No, I Don't Remember](https://open.spotify.com/track/4CJfc5n3E4JhmQMFjTdUbp)
|
||||
 | aYia | [Ruins](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JhEXmr3ncmiQkQZW74Wza)
|
||||
 | Portico Quartet | [Knee-Deep in the North Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GiL4UBkcDmqe8xu1oJoo2)
|
||||
 | Melt Yourself Down | [Fix My Life](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iDydsj3Vdz4qg785ZUtvb)
|
||||
 | Bent Knee | [Bone Rage](https://open.spotify.com/track/3w6ZkYtNRwgbQ7qxnRpHRK)
|
||||
 | Glass Animals | [Pools](https://open.spotify.com/track/7jO2B8Xgfu7D9vj60XiG7Y)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Kompod](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mVKgtDpXmtrx2mBePRwLc)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Kanu](https://open.spotify.com/track/7emTzJKcEo7Vcp1yyvh8LV)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [Artificial Sunset](https://open.spotify.com/track/7MTuE4hteeNswkLiBG66Gx)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [The Exile](https://open.spotify.com/track/0wx8nqsbTrMFvSIcpwqijE)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [The Lamb and the Wolf](https://open.spotify.com/track/63oHO87MSNEWltvOr20joT)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [Sightless Eyes](https://open.spotify.com/track/50aeJUmtwDth4DB682Jbvm)
|
||||
 | Never Get Used To People | [Life Letters](https://open.spotify.com/track/29VdNzgJIxzlIDkIYjFQqS)
|
||||
 | Buke & Gase | [Houdini Crush](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Rejc9qWWqmQC3Hb0aGeEz)
|
||||
 | Esperanza Spalding | [Good Lava](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SdxGQpFy67zAxNWQ0ftml)
|
||||
 | Long Arm | [Double Bass in Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/3LPkWEdyDKmHM5SkMzSeZP)
|
||||
 | Gramatik, Branx | [Future Crypto](https://open.spotify.com/track/77fWIj4wQz8EKpDRkoPK6R)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Fuck Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1u8lE1YTkgQrXnMpPpVUC6)
|
||||
 | Juno Reactor | [God Is God](https://open.spotify.com/track/4c3AIVL5VlvlwqzPMkEenX)
|
||||
 | DROELOE | [Only Be Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/4E4gQUWMUbi0lOf98qqtuv)
|
||||
 | Four Tet, Jon Hopkins | [Angel Echoes - Jon Hopkins Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/62Ws0LPi5yZJ7nWMdN8ZcI)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Motion Sickness](https://open.spotify.com/track/6LxcPUqx6noURdA5qc4BAT)
|
||||
 | Jhariah | [PRESSURE BOMB 3?!?!](https://open.spotify.com/track/2QZbSC8GZPSLXVL4ezviiL)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Do You Don't You](https://open.spotify.com/track/55XVu6sTO9XyNEuu3OEijK)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [Page One](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W1dZcvhTJbZ6kQYB6SvM0)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Never Count On Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/18Ex4J57MhJ7ou358jFXFx)
|
||||
 | MUST DIE!, Ducky | [DELETE IT ALL](https://open.spotify.com/track/5O07W27wy7OxoRLT71zlkB)
|
||||
 | lapix | [Day by day - PSYQUI Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kiluGP5yfujqTwMLin7nZ)
|
||||
 | The Buttress | [Brutus (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0m5xMNMK48sQVjASd4YPPt)
|
||||
 | Moon Bounce | [Drugs](https://open.spotify.com/track/1dS2BDYFU52VfFQoWqticB)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [Vaultage 003](https://open.spotify.com/track/1eQF4JMgSGhbG6ODZs2saB)
|
||||
 | Kayzo, Kamiyada+, Tisoki | [NEWS FLASH (Tisoki Remix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C4nn81sUVe0QWqDPJiyGw)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [D.A.W](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qiNqpbZzziUVJdVe45hGg)
|
||||
 | Ceptre | [Rapt](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ViE0MdFlkprHTPRkUXcWE)
|
||||
 | Runnit | [nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3M1lmzO08DlyE64hZeyGxU)
|
||||
 | Stickleback | [Nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3b6m0TTQTWIM9sWfPcnI02)
|
||||
 | ellis | [Feel That Way](https://open.spotify.com/track/1qMak6TgZIdfcCzuGIAZyU)
|
||||
 | Jain | [Come](https://open.spotify.com/track/02R2z7JWV0G8VuU1xs58OB)
|
||||
 | Rubik | [Sun's Eyes](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BSx590I5G70vsLSgUOtQK)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin, MC Decimal R. | [Verbal](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ywyrSc0CxI1XZnkbr14Nc)
|
||||
 | TV On The Radio | [Quartz](https://open.spotify.com/track/0xXmPzAdGlPBaJ0csqYxYs)
|
||||
 | Botany | [Quatic](https://open.spotify.com/track/55FIhKMfZMj7tQyHcpSGOR)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
 | Donovans | [Yo !](https://open.spotify.com/track/3aqo7jZDEYfdMf54batJE2)
|
||||
 | Donovans | [Rise & Fall](https://open.spotify.com/track/49063mI7ykBk32B7sc1JFg)
|
||||
 | gladde paling | [hap slik weg](https://open.spotify.com/track/0y002KpsM1aIDJALtmT7j7)
|
||||
 | ratbag | [rats in my walls](https://open.spotify.com/track/518SyWWJhPl7HHUSPfyRjL)
|
||||
 | Cheese People | [Доля риска](https://open.spotify.com/track/0nPnpl0Y5h4tVdMylsXAPZ)
|
||||
 | SWRSLT | [Pretty Cvnt](https://open.spotify.com/track/2CTcTL788DBaFLnc6QJSzv)
|
||||
 | GRiZ, Chrishira Perrier | [Feel It All](https://open.spotify.com/track/6bD33B9oE9ZtilNhHUpOBz)
|
||||
 | Mason, Princess Superstar, 1991 | [Perfect (Exceeder) - 1991 Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VKWQgq0g2uKtgNfL0ceNM)
|
||||
 | Creeds | [Push Up - Main Edit](https://open.spotify.com/track/3AjSfp5FDvwtMU9XBsbS8j)
|
||||
45
content/extras/music/characters/dry-grass.md
Normal file
45
content/extras/music/characters/dry-grass.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,45 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Dry Grass's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Indigo De Souza | [What Are We Gonna Do Now](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i3ExiCWHemALN24hVn65B)
|
||||
 | The Ditty Bops | [Wake Up](https://open.spotify.com/track/7iqlj8QM3Wmvg21bE3AnrR)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Smoke Signals](https://open.spotify.com/track/5w52BJAqGkV1ewaCVLmjhi)
|
||||
 | The Ditty Bops | [Breeze Black Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/3jvJSB3sgqXtKGHqfCdorx)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [Poor Leno](https://open.spotify.com/track/6EUs3FH5StArwbc07i3OYG)
|
||||
 | The Ditty Bops | [Pale Yellow](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GHb0SC77sUFGHr4qSukei)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Praying 2 Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NuF9WI6vGQTQBC6CWCK81)
|
||||
 | Clap! Clap!, Oy | [Hope](https://open.spotify.com/track/3njAaDjDBb893AnRjgiRm8)
|
||||
 | Big Thief | [Velvet Ring](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qshYIOUFQAGgYfWXg1m9N)
|
||||
 | Men I Trust | [Show Me How](https://open.spotify.com/track/01TyFEZu6mHbffsVfxgrFn)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Across the Universe](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZQgooEk8PvsLxedYaT6Oa)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Waltz (Better Than Fine)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7neXV046ou4CNN9wyFAED6)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [Eple](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pbEKdMWHGwPQSDGfcNycM)
|
||||
 | Disasterpeace, Stemage | [Flow](https://open.spotify.com/track/1jTiSWvd2eVwchro3VgeNx)
|
||||
 | Turin Brakes | [Full Of Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/22iXle8iPtqh6RbZS79FY7)
|
||||
 | The Mamas & The Papas | [Twist And Shout](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GBgcomUb0yvKfkxybq7mN)
|
||||
 | The Mamas & The Papas | [Dream A Little Dream Of Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/27hhIs2fp6w06N5zx4Eaa5)
|
||||
 | Rubik | [Sun's Eyes](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BSx590I5G70vsLSgUOtQK)
|
||||
 | Food | [Khymos](https://open.spotify.com/track/16xwZZLw1aWQbrup8wH1Bo)
|
||||
35
content/extras/music/characters/e.w..md
Normal file
35
content/extras/music/characters/e.w..md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,35 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: E.W.'s playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | The Dillinger Escape Plan | [Mouth Of Ghosts](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Le202Yj1zphNm3QyfN1sB)
|
||||
 | Dusty Brown | [This City Is Killing Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sIVrEY8WNhQNpON9BmXTd)
|
||||
 | My Brightest Diamond | [Inside a Boy - Son Lux Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5eQHx8RwnLJa7oNFza9GiO)
|
||||
 | David Bowie | [Sunday](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RlYcmB89aA2rAMMKwPWEp)
|
||||
 | David Bowie | [★](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Xb5UAKg5OdTHkg48FdQou)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Rondio](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DNw5Ngrz7o3LGgrKAhxOx)
|
||||
 | Major Parkinson | [Night Hitcher](https://open.spotify.com/track/02rInvPDZSn2YWzIJGRjHL)
|
||||
 | A.A. Williams | [Creep](https://open.spotify.com/track/1tDAUwBTlU7aBYWvbdB1Ob)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
61
content/extras/music/characters/hold-my-name.md
Normal file
61
content/extras/music/characters/hold-my-name.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,61 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Hold My Name's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Moonchild | [The List](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mWh956KP56IWMbLBfxdqj)
|
||||
 | The Temper Trap | [Sweet Disposition](https://open.spotify.com/track/5RoIXwyTCdyUjpMMkk4uPd)
|
||||
 | Moonchild | [The Truth](https://open.spotify.com/track/0FlicClgtjsPvYZgvX138m)
|
||||
 | Herbie Hancock | [Vein Melter](https://open.spotify.com/track/6c0ziyel6ZMTQ37vKRooGZ)
|
||||
 | Moonchild | [Don't Wake Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1JxkQAXBMLhuplAo9wCONR)
|
||||
 | Alok, Zeeba, iRO | [Ocean](https://open.spotify.com/track/4nraNqonMyfc0U3o8VeXVu)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Sphinx Gate](https://open.spotify.com/track/2dRUsEM9qWmta4uMOb9Mx4)
|
||||
 | Dusty Brown | [This City Is Killing Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sIVrEY8WNhQNpON9BmXTd)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Nakamarra](https://open.spotify.com/track/1WCbWyu8mRrOk5Su9yPnkO)
|
||||
 | SOHN | [Life Behind Glass](https://open.spotify.com/track/6f9qcrWRocvwwCJmXTgrDb)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Rainbow Rhodes](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VEJWBbeBbOX6N0UwXlM3x)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Mobius Streak](https://open.spotify.com/track/08o9yCplgxLM11ymhvkbl8)
|
||||
 | j^p^n | [Bloom](https://open.spotify.com/track/26kPTDeIh5pTcyMuD6IonN)
|
||||
 | PJ Morton, Yebba | [How Deep Is Your Love (feat. Yebba) - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3SjAiqAQ6sMmsJBeVw0nMf)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Fantastic Analysis](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CGeenPaULIZZbbXHUfSjc)
|
||||
 | HYUKOH | [Wi Ing Wi Ing](https://open.spotify.com/track/66UcQu5LBo2A7AC0A5r0lI)
|
||||
 | David Bowie | [Cactus](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SSnwuxogRb3TkhSeLQbrC)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Pinwheel Herman](https://open.spotify.com/track/15iYEUHOlnC15IBmBOsG42)
|
||||
 | fun., Janelle Monáe | [We Are Young (feat. Janelle Monáe)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7a86XRg84qjasly9f6bPSD)
|
||||
 | Aphex Twin | [Alberto Balsalm](https://open.spotify.com/track/6gbmylJ7sB7NFfMfTQHosf)
|
||||
 | Tom Day | [After Hours](https://open.spotify.com/track/3zIJhy02loMgUrlDjFEUKI)
|
||||
 | Four Tet, Jon Hopkins | [Angel Echoes - Jon Hopkins Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/62Ws0LPi5yZJ7nWMdN8ZcI)
|
||||
 | Dana and Alden, quickly\, quickly | [Coconut Water](https://open.spotify.com/track/48HATQmXssKoCAqhaFjtAh)
|
||||
 | Fish in a Birdcage | [Rule #21 - Momento Mori](https://open.spotify.com/track/5DeZowL9q9wS0OBdud4Wy1)
|
||||
 | In Love With a Ghost, Nori | [Flowers](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VnaOLeK1lKfULuNwet8ck)
|
||||
 | Clap! Clap!, Oy | [Hope](https://open.spotify.com/track/3njAaDjDBb893AnRjgiRm8)
|
||||
 | Glass Animals | [Take A Slice](https://open.spotify.com/track/37adYGaYaAWTGhBaOzX4Fh)
|
||||
 | Vulfpeck | [Fugue State](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Ux3BFgzXm0YoD37nBQjJt)
|
||||
 | Effin | [Divine](https://open.spotify.com/track/4YssZJDemgkA1Tty80kDXK)
|
||||
 | The Ditty Bops | [Breeze Black Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/3jvJSB3sgqXtKGHqfCdorx)
|
||||
 | Thundercat | [Them Changes](https://open.spotify.com/track/7CH99b2i1TXS5P8UUyWtnM)
|
||||
 | Turin Brakes | [Full Of Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/22iXle8iPtqh6RbZS79FY7)
|
||||
 | Ronald Jenkees | [Rhodes Deep](https://open.spotify.com/track/1qlmJohzYG5IarRCsw00oj)
|
||||
 | Girls in Airports | [Fables](https://open.spotify.com/track/1lSmRkGTMdK1v8jxxi4y10)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
54
content/extras/music/characters/in-the-wind.md
Normal file
54
content/extras/music/characters/in-the-wind.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,54 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: In The Wind's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Peter Broderick, Nils Frahm | [And It's Alright - Nils Frahm Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/4yQTsewlyrRrHq2EW6pjsg)
|
||||
 | Uyama Hiroto | [Waltz for Real World](https://open.spotify.com/track/6QMJNcoThdqI7kz53xc0q1)
|
||||
 | Benn Jordan | [III](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ccPzsq6wjwy2QqqHNq2xl)
|
||||
 | The Album Leaf | [The Light](https://open.spotify.com/track/3YlJKAnvDjHNFjFVy2MXMG)
|
||||
 | Anatole | [Surrounds](https://open.spotify.com/track/6UzTau1ZyZHpnoUPjmLnSx)
|
||||
 | Erik Levander | [Sekund](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZavW8Vab56DVvOy0QKqzx)
|
||||
 | Anatole | [Colours](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Bdtc97VL7dsFmUGW4BO2d)
|
||||
 | Hiroshi Yoshimura | [FEET](https://open.spotify.com/track/2XBXn7yluQZ6bFReesUjrt)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Tom Day | [Descending](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Gj87tX54DBtC6wBlXA3KU)
|
||||
 | Air | [Once Upon a Time](https://open.spotify.com/track/7dvkAGglW9TS6VmQ6sufAX)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Time And Space](https://open.spotify.com/track/6qqNMdHr1hcyF4amMDP5Sf)
|
||||
 | Koda, Bijou | [Waking](https://open.spotify.com/track/7f5ppYCVLnXkVkSMTNfJTG)
|
||||
 | ICO | [heal](https://open.spotify.com/track/2iGCFvzjXPoXBooTnPOvdw)
|
||||
 | Little Tybee | [Hearing Blue](https://open.spotify.com/track/3V89zfDfYoPdCyThHPtLER)
|
||||
 | Hiroshi Yoshimura | [TEEVEE](https://open.spotify.com/track/4j8X5lYsXlWFr6hZ9Djs3h)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Home](https://open.spotify.com/track/6eZ2ucANM4ClTdrPVB958U)
|
||||
 | Ólafur Arnalds | [undir](https://open.spotify.com/track/3u2R3fpfSNwvEWDzSVcXVS)
|
||||
 | The Turtles | [Happy Together](https://open.spotify.com/track/1JO1xLtVc8mWhIoE3YaCL0)
|
||||
 | Steve Hauschildt | [M Path](https://open.spotify.com/track/1vx9klSPhcooZ0fWOH9E4g)
|
||||
 | Forma | [Crossings](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ud4MGY6C2HEqkbSVWlArn)
|
||||
 | Steve Hauschildt | [Lyngr](https://open.spotify.com/track/451NedehClChIeR1wAhHWm)
|
||||
 | Steve Hauschildt | [Dissolvi](https://open.spotify.com/track/3A4ofOV2VMIYteboG0tNZB)
|
||||
 | Nils Frahm | [Keep](https://open.spotify.com/track/3OjWW823M5rbDuIr9mB06d)
|
||||
 | Jon Hopkins | [A Drifting Up](https://open.spotify.com/track/6p15WNkNoKhR0iDdFOTmuw)
|
||||
 | Lusine | [Jetstream](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zF983pbnmNCo9SnikVVJK)
|
||||
 | Kiln | [Airplaneshadows](https://open.spotify.com/track/0AE5luncpu558B9jxxaU2j)
|
||||
 | Luke Howard | [The Main Sequence](https://open.spotify.com/track/5AHocNK1CJ80Zo3UhMm7dc)
|
||||
55
content/extras/music/characters/motes.md
Normal file
55
content/extras/music/characters/motes.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,55 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Motes's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Frequent, Hudson Lee | [Day Bird Collection](https://open.spotify.com/track/1urjjr3cLpybRiEznRSWCZ)
|
||||
 | Tanger | [Fizzy](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hfhtkLH4rLw269iz9HBSf)
|
||||
 | Shawn Wasabi, Hollis | [OTTER POP (feat. Hollis)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1svyhZJQcGnrTbrxBLBs1x)
|
||||
 | Iglooghost | [Bug Thief](https://open.spotify.com/track/58jMrMZePOvsOUmR7VlKT3)
|
||||
 | Mega Mango | [Boggle](https://open.spotify.com/track/6FEisGZPcJyGwSpuhH1fMx)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Dark Fx](https://open.spotify.com/track/1tmJ32a3LobK9pl4aByeF8)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Scat](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JIr1H6SDv5nsoIZODjoJy)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Tux & Damask](https://open.spotify.com/track/19LLkcqajBXHAQzmjLUEfg)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Subsequence](https://open.spotify.com/track/1CTVpwNjl9CpD7gWCTNBYq)
|
||||
 | Lusine | [Jetstream](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zF983pbnmNCo9SnikVVJK)
|
||||
 | Ruth B. | [Dandelions](https://open.spotify.com/track/2eAvDnpXP5W0cVtiI0PUxV)
|
||||
 | Floating Points | [Argente](https://open.spotify.com/track/6s4vrjTbMNjZues9hgBThf)
|
||||
 | Xguiz, Patricia Taxxon | [Eeeaaaooo](https://open.spotify.com/track/6tOJm3QnlnZkJiahtwpCnG)
|
||||
 | múm | [Awake On A Train](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZxIstaskZ8NB75dT9ek6P)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Animal Chin](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IjHy89TBmOOK8nXYgqqo7)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Praying 2 Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NuF9WI6vGQTQBC6CWCK81)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Dillon Francis, Diplo, Maluca | [Que Que feat. Maluca](https://open.spotify.com/track/5P4QvdBL9aJ3ldf3GpfEy6)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [Eple](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pbEKdMWHGwPQSDGfcNycM)
|
||||
 | Ronald Jenkees | [Rhodes Deep](https://open.spotify.com/track/1qlmJohzYG5IarRCsw00oj)
|
||||
 | Eliminate | [Elevator](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ARzyH5VceCD3kKf6IxnOx)
|
||||
 | Grant, Juneau | [Are We Still Young](https://open.spotify.com/track/7zPAsqqz9M5qcpG42YUiug)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Three Different Hat Sizes](https://open.spotify.com/track/2LuWhwbo3qrcihwcC2Bx5j)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin, MC Decimal R. | [Verbal](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ywyrSc0CxI1XZnkbr14Nc)
|
||||
 | Botany | [Quatic](https://open.spotify.com/track/55FIhKMfZMj7tQyHcpSGOR)
|
||||
 | Little Big | [Skibidi](https://open.spotify.com/track/4F4TGsDYacEbw4PLAIyJ2e)
|
||||
 | Mason, Princess Superstar, 1991 | [Perfect (Exceeder) - 1991 Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VKWQgq0g2uKtgNfL0ceNM)
|
||||
 | xxanteria, isq | [FUNKED UP](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NtwTPKQLkAG5XC0Vj6L2l)
|
||||
 | Creeds | [Push Up - Main Edit](https://open.spotify.com/track/3AjSfp5FDvwtMU9XBsbS8j)
|
||||
38
content/extras/music/characters/no-longer-myself.md
Normal file
38
content/extras/music/characters/no-longer-myself.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,38 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: No Longer Myself's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Adrianne Lenker | [anything](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PwWESSlTwzvw9B7bmtTLS)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Smoke Signals](https://open.spotify.com/track/5w52BJAqGkV1ewaCVLmjhi)
|
||||
 | Indigo De Souza | [What Are We Gonna Do Now](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i3ExiCWHemALN24hVn65B)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Paper Bag](https://open.spotify.com/track/0IVkP59yJ9GFF6B7IrvrxA)
|
||||
 | Big Thief | [Velvet Ring](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qshYIOUFQAGgYfWXg1m9N)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Georgia](https://open.spotify.com/track/5YTJXAM6j8jEQ5vC8Q67GL)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Graceland Too](https://open.spotify.com/track/1WCjhRs2WBgyeGaybCX2Po)
|
||||
 | Lucy Dacus | [Night Shift](https://open.spotify.com/track/1yYlpGuBiRRf33e1gY61bN)
|
||||
 | Leith Ross | [We'll Never Have Sex](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Do3s3aivnqbUAvUEDEsAG)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [ICU](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Jm0RTOlF7DsbQ689QclaF)
|
||||
 | Turin Brakes | [Full Of Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/22iXle8iPtqh6RbZS79FY7)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Moon Song](https://open.spotify.com/track/46RNrAkGsqWTDrv2ZPOAbx)
|
||||
36
content/extras/music/characters/rye.md
Normal file
36
content/extras/music/characters/rye.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,36 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Rye's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Balayeurs Du Désert | [Décollage](https://open.spotify.com/track/3dXXCJysbDa0B8mQyF6tVL)
|
||||
 | Jeff Beck | [Angel (Footsteps)](https://open.spotify.com/track/4B9YrfZSY0kIwNgsV1T8oB)
|
||||
 | Pomplamoose | [Something](https://open.spotify.com/track/53EvHL5WQyY92iF5G0waIj)
|
||||
 | Men I Trust | [Show Me How](https://open.spotify.com/track/01TyFEZu6mHbffsVfxgrFn)
|
||||
 | Indigo De Souza | [What Are We Gonna Do Now](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i3ExiCWHemALN24hVn65B)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [Page One](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W1dZcvhTJbZ6kQYB6SvM0)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [His Majesty King Raam](https://open.spotify.com/track/4J8ms7TbPISBz71G5z2SGS)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Every Single Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/23B1awnmd30YfsPSYsfrUf)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Hot Knife](https://open.spotify.com/track/4eZPjR0dLEYvH5Ku26rnLi)
|
||||
 | Turin Brakes | [Full Of Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/22iXle8iPtqh6RbZS79FY7)
|
||||
55
content/extras/music/characters/slow-hours.md
Normal file
55
content/extras/music/characters/slow-hours.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,55 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Slow Hours's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Nick Zammuto, Todd Reynolds | [Fast Pasture](https://open.spotify.com/track/2WpnwZMWmiXJVgIK9k4UST)
|
||||
 | Never Get Used To People | [Life Letters](https://open.spotify.com/track/29VdNzgJIxzlIDkIYjFQqS)
|
||||
 | The Comet Is Coming | [Birth Of Creation](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CuOokDRR0Z2r1WaPRXKaF)
|
||||
 | Godspeed You! Black Emperor | [Mladic](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C74YYs3w11kyXBYBgD3Zq)
|
||||
 | acloudyskye | [Heliov](https://open.spotify.com/track/7BBanBnfvtSGBxkPOxTLUW)
|
||||
 | Tanger | [cccccccccccccccc](https://open.spotify.com/track/2MzuX1KYWJvry2jBzU6wQ6)
|
||||
 | The Flashbulb | [Morning Run](https://open.spotify.com/track/42ABM8zfyW0FAZiozJO5Dz)
|
||||
 | Balayeurs Du Désert | [Décollage](https://open.spotify.com/track/3dXXCJysbDa0B8mQyF6tVL)
|
||||
 | Jeff Beck | [Angel (Footsteps)](https://open.spotify.com/track/4B9YrfZSY0kIwNgsV1T8oB)
|
||||
 | INZO | [Overthinker](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qGoMOzR9pJ1bPl4bFmTN7)
|
||||
 | David Bowie | [★](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Xb5UAKg5OdTHkg48FdQou)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Kompod](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mVKgtDpXmtrx2mBePRwLc)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Tux & Damask](https://open.spotify.com/track/19LLkcqajBXHAQzmjLUEfg)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [The Exile](https://open.spotify.com/track/0wx8nqsbTrMFvSIcpwqijE)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Rondio](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DNw5Ngrz7o3LGgrKAhxOx)
|
||||
 | Lusine | [Jetstream](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zF983pbnmNCo9SnikVVJK)
|
||||
 | Pomplamoose | [Nature Boy](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZEzpBEQN0aiPxKnfqpD6Z)
|
||||
 | Pomplamoose | [Something](https://open.spotify.com/track/53EvHL5WQyY92iF5G0waIj)
|
||||
 | We Lost The Sea | [A Gallant Gentleman](https://open.spotify.com/track/7MZM9KhwGQG8QJ4BycsnQn)
|
||||
 | FKA twigs | [cellophane](https://open.spotify.com/track/7x8pIrhMu9FCmqqHNyuH0P)
|
||||
 | Ethan Bortnick | [cut my fingers off](https://open.spotify.com/track/5ARrWiDDRDocvURbemcnCy)
|
||||
 | Botany | [Quatic](https://open.spotify.com/track/55FIhKMfZMj7tQyHcpSGOR)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [So Easy](https://open.spotify.com/track/4MY8NLRDPXKn6CCsGLweLL)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [What Else Is There?](https://open.spotify.com/track/238vPTkV2cKupWDnAietb6)
|
||||
 | Disasterpeace, Stemage | [Flow](https://open.spotify.com/track/1jTiSWvd2eVwchro3VgeNx)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Three Different Hat Sizes](https://open.spotify.com/track/2LuWhwbo3qrcihwcC2Bx5j)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Go Where She Went](https://open.spotify.com/track/52MM26h1GXEovyYDAXShN8)
|
||||
 | Beck | [Blackhole](https://open.spotify.com/track/73f6kkLd0AqABUHijIdijO)
|
||||
@ -0,0 +1,49 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: "True Name#Convergence's playlist"
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Clever Girl | [Jumbo](https://open.spotify.com/track/57hpUNjkkSwM9OFp22usU4)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [The Brain Dance](https://open.spotify.com/track/7cO6rxZSi7Ura92FtspKaf)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [Apeirophobia](https://open.spotify.com/track/33Y6akOm1Sk2g6nXxNVh9x)
|
||||
 | Gábor Szabó | [Galatea's Guitar - 2022 Remastered Version](https://open.spotify.com/track/6L2EhnRo0GsLQknFiN5HYD)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [On Impulse](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ZWZO4Uc2W4U6ISIFtBCuJ)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [Tessitura](https://open.spotify.com/track/4mYodedV6gqsKoSWeB8tTK)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [Point to Point](https://open.spotify.com/track/65vUiT6J8LMq6e8YcKTCeC)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [Modern Meat](https://open.spotify.com/track/2OKYqk9p2fRFVQwaMPDSqY)
|
||||
 | Animals As Leaders | [Private Visions of the World](https://open.spotify.com/track/472vi5RE3rBOQlB3TVAn4O)
|
||||
 | Shark Quest | [Sin the Moon](https://open.spotify.com/track/4QVAGdnQaZw3twqGTA3ZIm)
|
||||
 | Caribou | [Bees](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ZKI571IyBKZPHq1UiQ2Sw)
|
||||
![cover]() | Gábor Szabó | [Galatea's Guitar](https://open.spotify.com/track/5YafdAyEYVePLz5QGCeD44)
|
||||
 | Wax Tailor | [For the Worst - Instrumental](https://open.spotify.com/track/4oTbhmuIp5oWHY4526tRMA)
|
||||
 | The Beta Band | [B+A](https://open.spotify.com/track/6vq3fkJ74aiRcIqr383H7A)
|
||||
 | Musée Mécanique | [Castle Walls - Instrumental](https://open.spotify.com/track/7FAuw1619lSUKBbC9VVpr2)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [Fire Back About Your New Baby's Sex](https://open.spotify.com/track/6If143a0W35DyR9pVQTTJP)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [The Peter Criss Jazz](https://open.spotify.com/track/6CGVSfryEulCEXvSXFO6A8)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [You Drink a Lot of Coffee for a Teenager](https://open.spotify.com/track/4VMYWYlKNLYh6OFCusaBkS)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [Details on How to Get ICEMAN on Your License Plate](https://open.spotify.com/track/39v2YXiwqWavyDbtbGflo9)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [A Lot of People Tell Me I Have a Fake British Accent](https://open.spotify.com/track/27kRf3wjtrzp5alsuk0TsK)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [Railroad Cancellation](https://open.spotify.com/track/4wXUhfW8mXFbvga8KVcozJ)
|
||||
 | Battles | [Atlas](https://open.spotify.com/track/5O8IbmlRKLvNNk5NRRwMFl)
|
||||
 | Battles | [Tonto](https://open.spotify.com/track/1LyVKKl0Xe1QUpl78z9Bmj)
|
||||
43
content/extras/music/characters/warmth-in-fire.md
Normal file
43
content/extras/music/characters/warmth-in-fire.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,43 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Warmth In Fire's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Bridge](https://open.spotify.com/track/5OI6WSmcih616fK3njeXUJ)
|
||||
 | Submotion Orchestra | [Awakening](https://open.spotify.com/track/4FULAlQuDeDlv1FidteGv0)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Carnivores Unite](https://open.spotify.com/track/56oUD9ZzgSSDFgvLHxoWyZ)
|
||||
 | The Flashbulb | [Undiscovered Colors](https://open.spotify.com/track/4fS4hGJcIydMZrWo68DFMf)
|
||||
 | Telefon Tel Aviv | [When It Happens, It Moves All by Itself](https://open.spotify.com/track/3iWujTdDJSoD5szrWFGaRF)
|
||||
 | Seiho | [Do Not Leave Wet](https://open.spotify.com/track/0P7XEbrxBA1sKz1gPJDAL7)
|
||||
 | Figueroa, Amon Tobin | [Back to the Stars](https://open.spotify.com/track/6JAyFkkYsXLHIjDAAlQ75W)
|
||||
 | Bill Laurance | [The Good Things](https://open.spotify.com/track/7drkN9v3cX4CqA8gTq3pPB)
|
||||
 | Frequent, Hudson Lee | [Day Bird Collection](https://open.spotify.com/track/1urjjr3cLpybRiEznRSWCZ)
|
||||
 | Alamaailman Vasarat | [Kebab Tai Henki!](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i80bt0e0qtfuYDUJe2mjG)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Every Single Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/23B1awnmd30YfsPSYsfrUf)
|
||||
 | j^p^n | [Bloom](https://open.spotify.com/track/26kPTDeIh5pTcyMuD6IonN)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Colored Engine](https://open.spotify.com/track/2U832A0zdb8OABhBmFjlWS)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Animal Chin](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IjHy89TBmOOK8nXYgqqo7)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Deltron 3030, Dan The Automator, Del The Funky Homosapien, Kid Koala | [3030](https://open.spotify.com/track/4eJokPhRlwORtVGQgnJWrA)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [Page One](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W1dZcvhTJbZ6kQYB6SvM0)
|
||||
61
content/extras/music/characters/what-right-have-i.md
Normal file
61
content/extras/music/characters/what-right-have-i.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,61 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: What Right Have I's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": Ia. Invocation. Adagio](https://open.spotify.com/track/30qvCN75RLMYSOxlOefWv4)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": Ib. Kaddish 1. L'istesso tempo – Allegro molto](https://open.spotify.com/track/0lVeycY2lPx8Q7vUtjFgxx)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIa. Din – Torah: Di nuovo adagio](https://open.spotify.com/track/26whAWXB5v6CXEw1b7k4xl)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Montserrat Caballé, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIb. Kaddish 2. Andante con tenerezza](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BljNuY4Bq9iin4pqeoqnr)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIa. Kaddish 3. Scherzo – Presto scherzando, sempre pianissimo](https://open.spotify.com/track/1uaNvV603WTnF35YljMMKr)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIb. Kaddish 3. Finale – Adagio come nel Din-Torah](https://open.spotify.com/track/3hJtzaQzzAsONxdK9dszio)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Montserrat Caballé, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIc. Kaddish 3. Allegro vivo, con gioia](https://open.spotify.com/track/5y58D7DXLbaorrZb83wa4W)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part I: I. Invocation and Trance](https://open.spotify.com/track/3cWEDk9ApUcPOgRmR8bMe6)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part I: II. The Fathers (David and Jonathan) - The Pledge](https://open.spotify.com/track/5AfpPQArGiY1bzx9DRWPtb)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part I: III. Variation O - Messengers (Angelic Messengers)](https://open.spotify.com/track/06Tbv0iQqbOrkdtcqOhxoa)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part I: IIIa. Kabbalah](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ECx6QUQoPPApyOegfaAD3)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part I: IV. Dream](https://open.spotify.com/track/59wgplMcWmD5bCfXI0fVd0)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: IVa. Kabbalah](https://open.spotify.com/track/6lTbNAtN9nnjL3MKNuuFLi)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: V. Variation A](https://open.spotify.com/track/36llDFFz7XcYiCBWympaNh)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: VI. Variation M](https://open.spotify.com/track/0AMilpbIKBGzNW9oPjMvon)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: VII. Variation N](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kgw2o8PqhGBIC9kFbUuu7)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: VIII. Variation X](https://open.spotify.com/track/6gPHBwi2erbVyQAPDpJIoQ)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: IX. Variation Y](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mhE28jcPWkpGotyytnp6t)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part II: X. Variation Z](https://open.spotify.com/track/6WcprMey3zpcr2ZLrQDFAv)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XI. Alchemy - Variation O](https://open.spotify.com/track/0uUvFtyUZgow4pq4t98e59)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XII. Leah (Maidens' Dance)](https://open.spotify.com/track/6oIyb8ApfH6IrM6AUK8icE)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XIII. Possession](https://open.spotify.com/track/0L79NuGP9zIRV0yG7e0fhQ)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XIV. Demon](https://open.spotify.com/track/779TSG4YxMrYrBL5aChfyd)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XV. Pas de deux](https://open.spotify.com/track/5HyUDT8ZbfF50MJRoAQCOF)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XVI. Exorcism](https://open.spotify.com/track/7GHmb4KAOPWslyf6krxLL8)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Mel Ulrich, Mark Risinger, Nashville Symphony Orchestra, Andrew Mogrelia | [Dybbuk: Part III: XVII. The Community (Reprise and Coda)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iIcXI9CH52KvOdklu4Lx6)
|
||||
 | Jonathan Newman, UNLV Wind Orchestra | [Uncle Sid](https://open.spotify.com/track/67umYUqLXtlxyBUPm5b4tf)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Chichester Psalms: I. Psalm 108.2 – Psalm 100 - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/2pmWlv9La0MU9eRyWBzztP)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Chichester Psalms: II. Psalm 23.1-4 – Psalm 2.1-4 – Psalm 23.5-6 - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/05UArpiKFN2kMdAKau7w9l)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Chichester Psalms: III. Psalm 131 – Psalm 133.1 - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/2vkPmRvkKPQ28Q6zXQaJjW)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, Eric Whitacre Singers | [Whitacre: Five Hebrew Love Songs: Temuná (A Picture)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1kolgImUY3SFo4lI6126oJ)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, Eric Whitacre Singers | [Whitacre: Five Hebrew Love Songs: Kalá Kallá (Light Bride)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1nxLqMNg5Cj4FlNJm56jQw)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, Eric Whitacre Singers | [Whitacre: Five Hebrew Love Songs: Lárov (Mostly)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0wB75IGo5CYCCDLaSxxqVL)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, Eric Whitacre Singers | [Whitacre: Five Hebrew Love Songs: Éyze Shéleg! (What Snow!)](https://open.spotify.com/track/4u8lry2CyORZirMa3HPtki)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, Eric Whitacre Singers | [Whitacre: Five Hebrew Love Songs: Rakút (Tenderness)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gB1vbmv4udSD0G9MVFIos)
|
||||
47
content/extras/music/characters/when-i-dream.md
Normal file
47
content/extras/music/characters/when-i-dream.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,47 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: When I Dream's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Cloudkicker | [He Would Be Riding on the Subway...](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Z0O8J1SpZIajnivRq7uhx)
|
||||
 | Cloudkicker | [And It Would Envelop Him Like a Soundless Tsunami](https://open.spotify.com/track/3p4EH8nMbMqyWSOpU98Lbe)
|
||||
 | Godspeed You! Black Emperor | [Mladic](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C74YYs3w11kyXBYBgD3Zq)
|
||||
 | This Will Destroy You | [Killed the Lord, Left for the New World](https://open.spotify.com/track/7eO8DoO8FZ3EzGQy8hm0v9)
|
||||
 | This Will Destroy You | [They Move on Tracks of Never-Ending Light](https://open.spotify.com/track/3cIG78oBauowzEbkBwWADN)
|
||||
 | Girls in Airports | [Fables](https://open.spotify.com/track/1lSmRkGTMdK1v8jxxi4y10)
|
||||
 | The Comet Is Coming | [Birth Of Creation](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CuOokDRR0Z2r1WaPRXKaF)
|
||||
 | Do Make Say Think | [The Landlord Is Dead](https://open.spotify.com/track/2sRYZZLZIgFtCjufzMi7FO)
|
||||
 | Their Dogs Were Astronauts | [Contortionist](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Hx06nPpKL3wAUcnJIgcLO)
|
||||
 | Piglet | [Caramel](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ydkCHE2sIbsnFEgPidTXt)
|
||||
 | Rooftops | [Astray Life](https://open.spotify.com/track/6cSCJQcTMWpFPfBZg1gl3h)
|
||||
 | Pretend | [Those Luminous Noises Are God](https://open.spotify.com/track/4kHdJkZvqZMsjNKlTp8NGH)
|
||||
 | Clever Girl | [Jumbo](https://open.spotify.com/track/57hpUNjkkSwM9OFp22usU4)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [The Great Leap Forward Poured Down Upon Us One Day Like a Mighty Storm, Suddenly and Furiously Blinding Our Senses.](https://open.spotify.com/track/56Idr1z3NHtLW27EYp2K5j)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [We Stood Transfixed in Blank Devotion as Our Leader Spoke to Us, Looking Down on Our Mute Faces with a Great, Raging, And Unseeing Eye.](https://open.spotify.com/track/0k1nhAYsVCiU5DRQ6QTtIr)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [Like the Howling Glory of the Darkest Winds, This Voice Was Thunderous and the Words Holy, Tangling Their Way Around Our Hearts and Clutching Our Innocent Awe.](https://open.spotify.com/track/21SOp7ZYZpeq9JsEmPHAYN)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [A Message of Avarice Rained Down and Carried Us Away into False Dreams of Endless Riches.](https://open.spotify.com/track/7j1FdHLuirbR9M1c24PhmN)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | ["Annihilate the Sparrow, That Stealer of Seed, And Our Harvests Will Abound; We Will Watch Our Wealth Flood In."](https://open.spotify.com/track/11znUs5WZzvmEJFCzsp3A3)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [And by Our Own Hand Did Every Last Bird Lie Silent in Their Puddles, The Air Barren of Song as the Clouds Drifted Away. For Killing Their Greatest Enemy, The Locusts Noisily Thanked Us and Turned The](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JXVBqVgSCLaVpcCiB6xaM)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [Millions Starved and We Became Skinnier and Skinnier, While Our Leaders Became Fatter and Fatter.](https://open.spotify.com/track/4iMuiJ8IgRfUODQ4I6Dj0s)
|
||||
 | Red Sparowes | [Finally, As That Blazing Sun Shone Down Upon Us, Did We Know That True Enemy Was the Voice of Blind Idolatry; and Only Then Did We Begin to Think for Ourselves.](https://open.spotify.com/track/2hAPFYFfbDx5dTo0nHdY2H)
|
||||
33
content/extras/music/characters/why-ask-questions.md
Normal file
33
content/extras/music/characters/why-ask-questions.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,33 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Why Ask Questions's playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | j^p^n | [Bloom](https://open.spotify.com/track/26kPTDeIh5pTcyMuD6IonN)
|
||||
 | Effin | [Divine](https://open.spotify.com/track/4YssZJDemgkA1Tty80kDXK)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
 | Thundercat | [Them Changes](https://open.spotify.com/track/7CH99b2i1TXS5P8UUyWtnM)
|
||||
 | Mega Mango | [Boggle](https://open.spotify.com/track/6FEisGZPcJyGwSpuhH1fMx)
|
||||
 | Elbow | [An Audience With The Pope](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mCsKCop7FbyTGls4hwsj1)
|
||||
 | Elbow, Richard Hawley | [The Fix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5eYi0QL0Zn9jWptJ9QMM7r)
|
||||
24
content/extras/music/head.txt
Normal file
24
content/extras/music/head.txt
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,24 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: XXX playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
41
content/extras/music/idumea.md
Normal file
41
content/extras/music/idumea.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,41 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Idumea playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Chelou | [Out of Sight](https://open.spotify.com/track/58jKZIhetr63gESwIkkTfK)
|
||||
 | Dan Deacon | [When I Was Done Dying](https://open.spotify.com/track/69L4d5HlE0YOCwWFYVFGoW)
|
||||
 | Timbre | [Song of the Sun](https://open.spotify.com/track/14DDNpwG2MjpIgBwYDAbu8)
|
||||
 | Little Tybee | [Hearing Blue](https://open.spotify.com/track/2U2jIhfr40UtW9MtZCLVet)
|
||||
 | SOHN | [The Wheel](https://open.spotify.com/track/5dJCYzLWPrhlPLhcsrkaBi)
|
||||
 | Mountain Man | [River](https://open.spotify.com/track/49DwA09X2GPwxRQJljWSKc)
|
||||
 | Chris Garneau | [Gentry](https://open.spotify.com/track/1xOcMLmKMhtGIemNEYf9Qf)
|
||||
 | JHAS | [Talking, Sleeping, Waiting](https://open.spotify.com/track/6vNrUkbSCj9pvqrdgJi2bF)
|
||||
 | the pillows | [Thank you, my twilight (Fool on cool version)](https://open.spotify.com/track/04CA1tT26k3rOjmasXnghg)
|
||||
 | FAKE TYPE. | [Carry Lucky](https://open.spotify.com/track/6CYN6FVGvemStfVt1Xw1DS)
|
||||
 | nelward | [Ghost](https://open.spotify.com/track/6EmGcKra63FXiRA6XsfAas)
|
||||
 | VOLA | [Inmazes](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kd2VhGz3HzNxwEngK4lUK)
|
||||
 | Leprous | [Foe](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ApUut34c3s54Y7VMrBXKY)
|
||||
 | Younger Brother | [Shine](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ZrDBoA7G3F0oXQ7B1QLRc)
|
||||
 | Zammuto | [It Can Feel So Good](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ZNVem5yuKAs0o7dLqCmf0)
|
||||
94
content/extras/music/marsh.md
Normal file
94
content/extras/music/marsh.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,94 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Marsh playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Dopam!ne | [kamisama-chan](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kyJNuHcEIJ2qCShkMCYnX)
|
||||
 | OTOMIC | [Coherence](https://open.spotify.com/track/4OWuGWpCz4SInrldZtdcCe)
|
||||
 | Guilt Chip | [Missingno.](https://open.spotify.com/track/19kd2lLYyLz8SSPqstscwF)
|
||||
 | Kyroshie, Dust | [Slayers Mill](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Hne3OpADyWjfKQDzgmDur)
|
||||
 | Bankaji, Kloud Forest | [Shrimp Levels](https://open.spotify.com/track/0RQiX68RnWl3sXjyJS5wmP)
|
||||
 | Loompaskettee, herold | [Boutta Put the Sauce On It](https://open.spotify.com/track/3boQc5viH8JEAqYmRVPd0T)
|
||||
 | LIHUAYU | [996](https://open.spotify.com/track/2RNsJ8F1FM6BQWTNXwj8TH)
|
||||
 | Kyroshie | [From My Mind](https://open.spotify.com/track/2b6eHprOcww6Yxa6DZMW5f)
|
||||
 | Changeline | [OCTOPUS.LADY](https://open.spotify.com/track/4vjj0bcIG5O3FA0C9cXNR8)
|
||||
 | Ada Rook | [TRU U](https://open.spotify.com/track/5r1yRNurTtPFdRVBOhBrLF)
|
||||
 | Hudson Lee, Frequent, KOAN Sound | [Reflex Angle - KOAN Sound Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/251aoOiVbNdHCV0B2pf2G7)
|
||||
 | Goreshit | [The Nature of Dying](https://open.spotify.com/track/1MrjlbHioxHQDfsYDHJG0F)
|
||||
 | Gramatik, Branx | [Future Crypto](https://open.spotify.com/track/77fWIj4wQz8EKpDRkoPK6R)
|
||||
 | Nosaj Thing, KAZU | [Eclipse/Blue](https://open.spotify.com/track/1OO6bLZ79F3tOGkHPD0t2i)
|
||||
 | Changeline | [PENCIL.QUEST](https://open.spotify.com/track/6IOv6nSK8ZpeOlKLvwiB7w)
|
||||
 | Clark | [Secret](https://open.spotify.com/track/21bLnN0PsCgWfXfNEQf70n)
|
||||
 | Ceptre | [Rapt](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ViE0MdFlkprHTPRkUXcWE)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [Run DLL](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Hqfj8SEVEsRLMf7aV9rxA)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [D.A.W](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qiNqpbZzziUVJdVe45hGg)
|
||||
 | DVRST | [REASON TO LIVE](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ct6fY3UwHrY4IJIasEDfl)
|
||||
 | Kayzo, Kamiyada+, Tisoki | [NEWS FLASH (Tisoki Remix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C4nn81sUVe0QWqDPJiyGw)
|
||||
 | Ethan Bortnick | [cut my fingers off](https://open.spotify.com/track/5ARrWiDDRDocvURbemcnCy)
|
||||
 | lapix | [Day by day - PSYQUI Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kiluGP5yfujqTwMLin7nZ)
|
||||
 | The Buttress | [Brutus (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0m5xMNMK48sQVjASd4YPPt)
|
||||
 | My Brightest Diamond | [Inside a Boy - Son Lux Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5eQHx8RwnLJa7oNFza9GiO)
|
||||
 | Vylet Pony | [HONEYMOON PHASE (LIMERANCE)](https://open.spotify.com/track/60b7wr6iouv6hjmeBOgPgD)
|
||||
 | phonon | [emme](https://open.spotify.com/track/3p15F46vmAIGEdwHEApt4i)
|
||||
 | Floex, Olaf Stuut | [Lianas - Olaf Stuut Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5vQQXiKJWrFwIV5SBFCxwn)
|
||||
 | My Brightest Diamond | [To Pluto's Moon - Son Lux Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/2x8Dvg2f0igJjm7nriplPy)
|
||||
 | Chrome Sparks | [Marijuana](https://open.spotify.com/track/63PEsIWyy3QgiPy4u5I9pG)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane, Maniac Love | [Last Good Fuck - Maniac Love Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ygqw6HOiJSmOP0AiMHvVu)
|
||||
 | Vorso | [SFX](https://open.spotify.com/track/1pYlXwVjFL0jFgwpI5bpRF)
|
||||
 | not sorry | [LD50 - VIP](https://open.spotify.com/track/1OeOZw1bIc5xWodBotRIkR)
|
||||
 | Rezz, Deathpact | [Chemical Bond](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kn2FMZoBVClbA9CV7w3k5)
|
||||
 | Dog Blood, Skrillex, Boys Noize | [BREAK LAW](https://open.spotify.com/track/223t7TwvWm5PuE1IuWpRZM)
|
||||
 | Dj Technorch | [Love Love Love You I Love You - Eye's by Eyes Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qffhFJaxMp3rl5dao5Sv1)
|
||||
 | MUST DIE!, Ducky | [DELETE IT ALL](https://open.spotify.com/track/5O07W27wy7OxoRLT71zlkB)
|
||||
 | Elderbrook | [Could](https://open.spotify.com/track/3FjHWRfmNNYClBLZVtQAYT)
|
||||
 | Skest | [SWAMP SKONSTER](https://open.spotify.com/track/4c9UuO6PYqP6wMboWvbL5Z)
|
||||
 | Luke Vibert | [Knockout](https://open.spotify.com/track/1emlVDaolsPyJAtsdEZkGB)
|
||||
 | Luke Vibert | [Ready](https://open.spotify.com/track/5N45yGLwy9gIyG3r9O5AQZ)
|
||||
 | Mefjus, Camo & Krooked | [Sientelo](https://open.spotify.com/track/0VPtIe8j9wZMVTcYWURQGd)
|
||||
 | Camo & Krooked, Mefjus, Sophie Lindinger | [No Tomorrow](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KaYnQBP5CUorQKKuKmRUO)
|
||||
 | Knife Party | [Destroy Them With Lazers](https://open.spotify.com/track/4mw8LoRMvjE2SqElwT6fee)
|
||||
 | Noisia | [Tentacles](https://open.spotify.com/track/31uHF6XnKwuOqUzYM6O2CK)
|
||||
 | Figueroa, Amon Tobin | [Better Run](https://open.spotify.com/track/6qzyd6NWapUvnZQXOBIyIi)
|
||||
 | Son Lux, Lorde | [Easy (Switch Screens) [feat. Lorde]](https://open.spotify.com/track/0rkqMaZsWZzfdz4brrhS14)
|
||||
 | Trey Frey, Henry Homesweet | [Très Frais (Henry Homesweet Remix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1txp19a6yyi4VyRP6fZgk0)
|
||||
 | Salvatore Ganacci | [Horse](https://open.spotify.com/track/0m4donue5KgOq9D9s6wfTu)
|
||||
 | Ryuichi Sakamoto | [CHASM](https://open.spotify.com/track/3vNP9yit4TRGESSxF4FQgP)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Restraint](https://open.spotify.com/track/42dw6pVslE7a5k24piTkCC)
|
||||
 | Henry Homesweet | [Wetiko](https://open.spotify.com/track/1fLXt4gwbpY3Jxoa9jvrBv)
|
||||
 | Clark | [Superscope](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Luimpf9YtO6ynZta48PjG)
|
||||
 | Ott | [Harwell Dekatron](https://open.spotify.com/track/2uxnU3kxN3ymVTuJTiWUZp)
|
||||
 | Trifonic | [Terminal A](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ME14EPPp62T2hugH3yjTs)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Journeyman](https://open.spotify.com/track/687qZGqKcVN9g3obktSKHk)
|
||||
 | Eskmo, Brendan Angelides | [We Got More](https://open.spotify.com/track/6MyvAyuqostquGKkXDIKu9)
|
||||
 | Popbot | [Agglomerate](https://open.spotify.com/track/4TiBxl9kfyt6mkE4wMQV0J)
|
||||
 | X&G | [HITTIT](https://open.spotify.com/track/0OllbeiB8C1XCSiZxeWCg6)
|
||||
 | Runnit | [nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3M1lmzO08DlyE64hZeyGxU)
|
||||
 | Stickleback | [Nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3b6m0TTQTWIM9sWfPcnI02)
|
||||
 | gladde paling | [5G straal (hamster)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1rwmvSZAljd5s3H7fLVHH8)
|
||||
 | Little Snake, Flying Lotus | [Fallen Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/3DGLIRg0XCFmu0ovlDpbDN)
|
||||
 | IMPVLED | [CORRUPTED_FILE](https://open.spotify.com/track/3rTqThWx1R8lH7tHucFnsB)
|
||||
 | COPYCATT | [ALL TALK](https://open.spotify.com/track/6akbvPPqNRAGFbfRsMJ1Ab)
|
||||
 | Goreshit | [Toromi Hearts 2](https://open.spotify.com/track/2hOL86Q1TMV6Nvg3K7NOqx)
|
||||
 | Eliminate | [Elevator](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ARzyH5VceCD3kKf6IxnOx)
|
||||
 | GRiZ, Chrishira Perrier | [Feel It All](https://open.spotify.com/track/6bD33B9oE9ZtilNhHUpOBz)
|
||||
108
content/extras/music/mitzvot.md
Normal file
108
content/extras/music/mitzvot.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,108 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Mitzvot playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Alberto Ginastera, François-Xavier Poizat | [Danzas argentinas, Op. 2: I. Danza del viejo boyero (Animato allegro)](https://open.spotify.com/track/64rvql5P51R7PqtK4QiZS8)
|
||||
 | Alberto Ginastera, François-Xavier Poizat | [Danzas argentinas, Op. 2: II. Danza de la moza donosa (Dolcemente espressivo)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0iU4WfDbJIynKU16r8jFaV)
|
||||
 | Alberto Ginastera, François-Xavier Poizat | [Danzas argentinas, Op. 2: III. Danza del gaucho matrero (Furiosamente ritmico e energico)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7nXfmH97sJCZh1t4Yv4VBl)
|
||||
 | Arno Babadjanian, Sona Shaboyan | [Poem](https://open.spotify.com/track/0dOojgYcyeoH1iG71pvB0e)
|
||||
 | Samuel Barber, Leon McCawley | [Barber: Excursions, Op. 20: I. Un poco allegro](https://open.spotify.com/track/1vRVFFFWabLoTr4aXrCDPJ)
|
||||
 | Aaron Copland, Enrique Bátiz/Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México, Enrique Bátiz, Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México | [Dance Symphony (1999 Digital Remaster): Introduction: Lento - molto allegro](https://open.spotify.com/track/64HSuTDSaA70KRlT9qqn80)
|
||||
 | Aaron Copland, Enrique Bátiz/Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México, Enrique Bátiz, Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México | [Dance Symphony (1999 Digital Remaster): Andante moderato](https://open.spotify.com/track/0t1XrTg2mhwhiDJ3vx27TX)
|
||||
 | Aaron Copland, Enrique Bátiz/Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México, Enrique Bátiz, Orquesta Filarmónica de la Ciudad de México | [Dance Symphony (1999 Digital Remaster): Allegro vivo](https://open.spotify.com/track/4M2cjH75uTs7Fspelny4xS)
|
||||
 | Paul Dooley, Illinois State University Wind Symphony, Daniel A. Belongia | [Point Blank](https://open.spotify.com/track/2KZ1fgJoReW3EtKKbpTeKm)
|
||||
 | Eric Whitacre, BYU Singers, Ronald Staheli | [A Boy and a Girl](https://open.spotify.com/track/2wsMnTKbBI4doR40qViRiO)
|
||||
 | BYU Singers | [I Will Wade Out](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iGZoTMkcFSCLTA32m8sj1)
|
||||
 | Dale Warland Singers | [Evensong - Stephen Paulus](https://open.spotify.com/track/5vfc1unmTr7v6mnA0MdsZA)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists, Matthew Culloton | [Pilgrims' Hymn](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Vx29LAe0aOSTX6YufWBuU)
|
||||
 | Arnold Schoenberg, Pierre Boulez | [6 Pieces, Op. 35: V. Landsknechte "Einmal muss man sterben"](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mSjFpRqOZsXO5SDnihyGM)
|
||||
 | Arnold Schoenberg, Pierre Boulez | [Drei Satiren, Op. 28: I. Am Scheideweg "Tonal oder atonal?"](https://open.spotify.com/track/08xiYKP6r4Ocb3i8PsJ84b)
|
||||
 | Arnold Schoenberg, Pierre Boulez, London Sinfonietta | [4 Pieces, Op. 27: IV. Der Wunsch des Liebhabers "Süßes Mondlicht auf den Pflaumenbäumen"](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ms5akzujzVVif2ef2DQ8A)
|
||||
 | Arnold Schoenberg, Pierre Boulez, BBC Symphony Orchestra | [Kol Nidre, Op. 39](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ogwUBPPc0bNf3drrbVZwl)
|
||||
 | Arnold Schoenberg, Pierre Boulez | [Drei Volksliedsätze, Op. 49: II. Der Mai tritt ein mit Freuden](https://open.spotify.com/track/0EVx0FZXMr2niIX1Kk1GSX)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": Ia. Invocation. Adagio](https://open.spotify.com/track/30qvCN75RLMYSOxlOefWv4)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": Ib. Kaddish 1. L'istesso tempo – Allegro molto](https://open.spotify.com/track/0lVeycY2lPx8Q7vUtjFgxx)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIa. Din – Torah: Di nuovo adagio](https://open.spotify.com/track/26whAWXB5v6CXEw1b7k4xl)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Montserrat Caballé, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIb. Kaddish 2. Andante con tenerezza](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BljNuY4Bq9iin4pqeoqnr)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIa. Kaddish 3. Scherzo – Presto scherzando, sempre pianissimo](https://open.spotify.com/track/1uaNvV603WTnF35YljMMKr)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIb. Kaddish 3. Finale – Adagio come nel Din-Torah](https://open.spotify.com/track/3hJtzaQzzAsONxdK9dszio)
|
||||
 | Leonard Bernstein, Montserrat Caballé, Michael Wager, Vienna Boys' Choir, Wiener Jeunesse-Chor, Israel Philharmonic Orchestra | [Symphony No. 3 "Kaddish": IIIc. Kaddish 3. Allegro vivo, con gioia](https://open.spotify.com/track/5y58D7DXLbaorrZb83wa4W)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Han-Na Chang, Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra | [Shostakovich: Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, Op. 107: I. Allegretto](https://open.spotify.com/track/3TdUEtj5N3lntNaqLgz3GN)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Han-Na Chang, Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra | [Shostakovich: Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, Op. 107: II. Moderato](https://open.spotify.com/track/2T0MC282XxeDKooqQhOh18)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Han-Na Chang, Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra | [Shostakovich: Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, Op. 107: III. Cadenza](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ZfvsY7MiBNVcsp0aaBWnE)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Han-Na Chang, Antonio Pappano, London Symphony Orchestra | [Shostakovich: Cello Concerto No. 1 in E-Flat Major, Op. 107: IV. Finale. Allegro con moto](https://open.spotify.com/track/6V78uYAqzqggFokAv8utEp)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Heinrich Schiff, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Maxim Shostakovich | [Cello Concerto No. 2, Op. 126: 1. Largo](https://open.spotify.com/track/41PXlXBrPFHiV25X9fKyWU)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Heinrich Schiff, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Maxim Shostakovich | [Cello Concerto No. 2, Op. 126: 2. Allegretto](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hry4KoCSS7TtH95cQQx05)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Heinrich Schiff, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, Maxim Shostakovich | [Cello Concerto No. 2, Op. 126: 3. Allegretto](https://open.spotify.com/track/57CReZuHtUdtwKIdl4rYus)
|
||||
 | Dmitri Shostakovich, Emerson String Quartet | [String Quartet No. 12 in D Flat Major, Op. 133: II. Allegretto - Adagio - Moderato - Allegretto - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/01R37TkPxU9mKkjUOFXFyU)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Kent Nagano, The Opera De Lyon, London Opera Chorus | [Adams: The Death of Klinghoffer, Prologue: Chorus of Exiled Palestinians](https://open.spotify.com/track/5cPgM0du0gEi3YabyEfD5a)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: The Chairman Dances (Foxtrot for Orchestra)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0AR6xpBb04j3hNMAD1iImJ)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: Harmonielehre: III. Meister Eckhardt and Quackie](https://open.spotify.com/track/4XnXmrafs24PyqTrkLSK2M)
|
||||
 | Michael Nyman | [Here To There](https://open.spotify.com/track/16FSqhikE6jV5jHUP5Dlth)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Netherlands Radio Choir, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: I. De Demonibus - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/6h07mZJ2mbbQLv9bu1L7N7)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Edward Cassell | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: II. Requiem Æternam - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/74JhXxvm6r2Hp9x9lE6hj5)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: III. Gula - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Ni6E0KjPjxyxIkyMcrejw)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: IV. Absolve Domine - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/2sa58sk0QkYjprC33rBquA)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: V. Ira - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/0EaOzOTnAah7f18WzKA8Tr)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: VI. Dies Iræ (Live)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pd4kEpdudhZziDpCSlmSy)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, David Wilson-Johnson, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: VII. Invidia - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/0A2OGacshYq3je6fZILL01)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: VIII. Juste judex - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/1aZen3l25N6KRDaubWdSBy)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: IX. Organ solo - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3mpUoiMCkWoDRs6tvix1Ey)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, David Wilson-Johnson, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: X. Acedia - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/0rgcOWzQFSdZyWtIS3Uquq)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XI. Domine, Jesu Christe - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ysWQ9lZucQqB82y1ltjU4)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, David Wilson-Johnson, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XII. Superbia - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/32ZTL9ff0TiZMcEf9ZQNm6)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XIII. Sanctus - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DGDRV0gJDSWuYjlvD5ipf)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XIV. Luxuria - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BWVUxVpK2QxQcuZZdBEa0)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: Agnus Dei - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3WXrs3EoDbs5szItchhC7U)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XVI. Avaritia - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3yRQVUVLJekwVXFSoYcGc0)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XVII. Libera Me & Peccatum - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/1xIw0Vw1ncnK3dNEsdT09W)
|
||||
 | Detlev Glanert, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Aga Mikolaj, Christof Fischesser, David Wilson-Johnson, Gerhard Siegel, Ursula Hesse von den Steinen, Markus Stenz | [Glanert: Requiem für Hieronymus Bosch: XVIII. In Paradisum - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Uauhbcr7tH4jw2XHrBY4I)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: i. Requiem Aeternam - Requiem aeternam](https://open.spotify.com/track/5MyPGD5xJTqe1ojMkuAvzC)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Choir of Eltham College, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: ii. Requiem Aeternam - Te decet hymnus](https://open.spotify.com/track/5fEhUItKghexnDqC9RGUnB)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: iii. Requiem Aeternam - "What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?"](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ldbg1tZvX3wAlCrMvoc19)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: iv. Requiem Aeternam - Kyrie eleison](https://open.spotify.com/track/1xWpevU3C1cFdYGjl0385o)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: v. Dies Irae - Dies irae](https://open.spotify.com/track/4d3s2wnK6BVsUbTHyKGCG0)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: vi. Dies Irae - "Bugles sang, saddening the evening air"](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qaoLrvkcNK0XYPbFooMQM)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: vii. Dies Irae - Liber scriptus](https://open.spotify.com/track/0XrZIwZrmBfPsYxavD9EbJ)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: viii. Dies Irae - "Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death"](https://open.spotify.com/track/0RRKMUA5Qmf23J9JqFCRiB)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: ix. Dies Irae - Recordare Iesu pie](https://open.spotify.com/track/6HulczfVPb6w2EFm4sEMY2)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: x. Dies Irae - Confutatis maledictis](https://open.spotify.com/track/0jx6UN9GrqjKjisiASns8j)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xi. Dies Irae - "Be slowly lifted up, thou long black arm"](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RrMUJBlyunHzvV44IFYTH)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xii. Dies Irae - Dies irae](https://open.spotify.com/track/7FDT5P6lYRcMxZkkZRZxnL)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, Ian Bostridge, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xiii. Dies Irae - "Move him into the sun"](https://open.spotify.com/track/0XOp2W3HP4nMUxc498sXI1)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xiv. Dies Irae - Pie Iesu Domine](https://open.spotify.com/track/7voDjGj13uUIS6AWwWhomt)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Choir of Eltham College, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xv. Offertorium - Domine Jesu Christe](https://open.spotify.com/track/5xhc6vi0sgRi0DUVZXesGN)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xvi. Offertorium - Sed signifer Sanctus](https://open.spotify.com/track/4vZmZOGmLGInXsun3MNE8o)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xvii. Offertorium - "So Abram rose, and clave the wood"](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZoZBLPTI65NK05BA2EOjo)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, Simon Keenlyside, Choir of Eltham College, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xvii. Offertorium - Hostias et preces tibi](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Z0IovJyaeRftXmZGgFHqD)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, Choir of Eltham College, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xix. Sanctus - Sanctus](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SGBD7fsjqfHzKccjqvXH1)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xx. Sanctus - "After the blast of lightning from the East"](https://open.spotify.com/track/7BkGTWECTh6L15RuTWpfoC)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxi. Agnus Dei - "One ever hangs where shelled roads part" Agnus Dei](https://open.spotify.com/track/6YfDj8hzOADzRWgRn2GRlz)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxii. Libera Me - Libera me](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ECn7R83rXboXjpjoGao9P)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Ian Bostridge, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxiii. Libera Me - "It seemed that out of battle I escaped"](https://open.spotify.com/track/3I1XiaFJ3rIrdZcY7yGB6q)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Simon Keenlyside, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxiv. Libera Me - " 'None', said the other"](https://open.spotify.com/track/3o7ql157XAr3Ec8KVJxBRy)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, Sabina Cvilak, Ian Bostridge, Simon Keenlyside, Choir of Eltham College, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxv. Libera Me - "Let us sleep now…" In paradisum](https://open.spotify.com/track/5nmuuYOEMPpQofh2Ltiq69)
|
||||
 | Benjamin Britten, Gianandrea Noseda, London Symphony Chorus, London Symphony Orchestra | [War Requiem, Op. 66: xxvi. Libera Me - Requiescant in pace](https://open.spotify.com/track/6O2tL1VhX1nBAT9gP5TTpk)
|
||||
 | Charles Ives, Cincinnati Philharmonia Orchestra, Gerhard Samuel | [The Unanswered Question](https://open.spotify.com/track/7umTDygSNRwDVYvdp9CGNG)
|
||||
188
content/extras/music/motes-played.md
Normal file
188
content/extras/music/motes-played.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,188 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Motes Played playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Frequent, Hudson Lee | [Day Bird Collection](https://open.spotify.com/track/1urjjr3cLpybRiEznRSWCZ)
|
||||
 | Tanger | [Fizzy](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hfhtkLH4rLw269iz9HBSf)
|
||||
 | Shawn Wasabi, Hollis | [OTTER POP (feat. Hollis)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1svyhZJQcGnrTbrxBLBs1x)
|
||||
 | Iglooghost | [Bug Thief](https://open.spotify.com/track/58jMrMZePOvsOUmR7VlKT3)
|
||||
 | Mega Mango | [Boggle](https://open.spotify.com/track/6FEisGZPcJyGwSpuhH1fMx)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Dark Fx](https://open.spotify.com/track/1tmJ32a3LobK9pl4aByeF8)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Scat](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JIr1H6SDv5nsoIZODjoJy)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Tux & Damask](https://open.spotify.com/track/19LLkcqajBXHAQzmjLUEfg)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Subsequence](https://open.spotify.com/track/1CTVpwNjl9CpD7gWCTNBYq)
|
||||
 | Lusine | [Jetstream](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zF983pbnmNCo9SnikVVJK)
|
||||
 | Ruth B. | [Dandelions](https://open.spotify.com/track/2eAvDnpXP5W0cVtiI0PUxV)
|
||||
 | Floating Points | [Argente](https://open.spotify.com/track/6s4vrjTbMNjZues9hgBThf)
|
||||
 | Xguiz, Patricia Taxxon | [Eeeaaaooo](https://open.spotify.com/track/6tOJm3QnlnZkJiahtwpCnG)
|
||||
 | múm | [Awake On A Train](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ZxIstaskZ8NB75dT9ek6P)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Animal Chin](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IjHy89TBmOOK8nXYgqqo7)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Praying 2 Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NuF9WI6vGQTQBC6CWCK81)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Dichotomy (Soft Mix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/55yophjUCQIrtEz39wF2bL)
|
||||
 | Dillon Francis, Diplo, Maluca | [Que Que feat. Maluca](https://open.spotify.com/track/5P4QvdBL9aJ3ldf3GpfEy6)
|
||||
 | Röyksopp | [Eple](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pbEKdMWHGwPQSDGfcNycM)
|
||||
 | Ronald Jenkees | [Rhodes Deep](https://open.spotify.com/track/1qlmJohzYG5IarRCsw00oj)
|
||||
 | Eliminate | [Elevator](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ARzyH5VceCD3kKf6IxnOx)
|
||||
 | Grant, Juneau | [Are We Still Young](https://open.spotify.com/track/7zPAsqqz9M5qcpG42YUiug)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Three Different Hat Sizes](https://open.spotify.com/track/2LuWhwbo3qrcihwcC2Bx5j)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin, MC Decimal R. | [Verbal](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ywyrSc0CxI1XZnkbr14Nc)
|
||||
 | Botany | [Quatic](https://open.spotify.com/track/55FIhKMfZMj7tQyHcpSGOR)
|
||||
 | Little Big | [Skibidi](https://open.spotify.com/track/4F4TGsDYacEbw4PLAIyJ2e)
|
||||
 | Mason, Princess Superstar, 1991 | [Perfect (Exceeder) - 1991 Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VKWQgq0g2uKtgNfL0ceNM)
|
||||
 | xxanteria, isq | [FUNKED UP](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NtwTPKQLkAG5XC0Vj6L2l)
|
||||
 | Creeds | [Push Up - Main Edit](https://open.spotify.com/track/3AjSfp5FDvwtMU9XBsbS8j)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [For Fork's Sake](https://open.spotify.com/track/6PEkG1LPQyGVQ5oygu06eO)
|
||||
 | Chrome Sparks | [Marijuana](https://open.spotify.com/track/63PEsIWyy3QgiPy4u5I9pG)
|
||||
 | Floex | [Veronika's Dream](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Wn5jRULq1MDfPrCAFVoDH)
|
||||
 | Owen Pallett | [Lewis Takes Action](https://open.spotify.com/track/0KLqnvSoVbaACrINlRSQma)
|
||||
 | Kyroshie | [Please Tell Me It's A Joke](https://open.spotify.com/track/3deGyGagr9nKqWGNwP3zn6)
|
||||
 | Florence + The Machine | [Dog Days Are Over](https://open.spotify.com/track/1YLJVmuzeM2YSUkCCaTNUB)
|
||||
 | The Temper Trap | [Sweet Disposition](https://open.spotify.com/track/5RoIXwyTCdyUjpMMkk4uPd)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Stereomission](https://open.spotify.com/track/2bEFcAISP2KpoWCiWI6Pzc)
|
||||
 | Have A Nice Life | [A Quick One Before the Eternal Worm Devours Connecticut](https://open.spotify.com/track/34dkZZNQJzEJRqPkywYmEY)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Give Them Their Flowers](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Jk4YA2grRN78jjyT9uGmM)
|
||||
 | Anna Ternheim | [No, I Don't Remember](https://open.spotify.com/track/4CJfc5n3E4JhmQMFjTdUbp)
|
||||
 | aYia | [Ruins](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JhEXmr3ncmiQkQZW74Wza)
|
||||
 | Portico Quartet | [Knee-Deep in the North Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GiL4UBkcDmqe8xu1oJoo2)
|
||||
 | Melt Yourself Down | [Fix My Life](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iDydsj3Vdz4qg785ZUtvb)
|
||||
 | Bent Knee | [Bone Rage](https://open.spotify.com/track/3w6ZkYtNRwgbQ7qxnRpHRK)
|
||||
 | Glass Animals | [Pools](https://open.spotify.com/track/7jO2B8Xgfu7D9vj60XiG7Y)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Kompod](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mVKgtDpXmtrx2mBePRwLc)
|
||||
 | Mouse On Mars | [Kanu](https://open.spotify.com/track/7emTzJKcEo7Vcp1yyvh8LV)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [Artificial Sunset](https://open.spotify.com/track/7MTuE4hteeNswkLiBG66Gx)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [The Exile](https://open.spotify.com/track/0wx8nqsbTrMFvSIcpwqijE)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [The Lamb and the Wolf](https://open.spotify.com/track/63oHO87MSNEWltvOr20joT)
|
||||
 | SHSTR | [Sightless Eyes](https://open.spotify.com/track/50aeJUmtwDth4DB682Jbvm)
|
||||
 | Never Get Used To People | [Life Letters](https://open.spotify.com/track/29VdNzgJIxzlIDkIYjFQqS)
|
||||
 | Buke & Gase | [Houdini Crush](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Rejc9qWWqmQC3Hb0aGeEz)
|
||||
 | Esperanza Spalding | [Good Lava](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SdxGQpFy67zAxNWQ0ftml)
|
||||
 | Long Arm | [Double Bass in Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/3LPkWEdyDKmHM5SkMzSeZP)
|
||||
 | Gramatik, Branx | [Future Crypto](https://open.spotify.com/track/77fWIj4wQz8EKpDRkoPK6R)
|
||||
 | Vernon Jane | [Fuck Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1u8lE1YTkgQrXnMpPpVUC6)
|
||||
 | Juno Reactor | [God Is God](https://open.spotify.com/track/4c3AIVL5VlvlwqzPMkEenX)
|
||||
 | DROELOE | [Only Be Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/4E4gQUWMUbi0lOf98qqtuv)
|
||||
 | Four Tet, Jon Hopkins | [Angel Echoes - Jon Hopkins Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/62Ws0LPi5yZJ7nWMdN8ZcI)
|
||||
 | Phoebe Bridgers | [Motion Sickness](https://open.spotify.com/track/6LxcPUqx6noURdA5qc4BAT)
|
||||
 | Jhariah | [PRESSURE BOMB 3?!?!](https://open.spotify.com/track/2QZbSC8GZPSLXVL4ezviiL)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Do You Don't You](https://open.spotify.com/track/55XVu6sTO9XyNEuu3OEijK)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | [Page One](https://open.spotify.com/track/1W1dZcvhTJbZ6kQYB6SvM0)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Never Count On Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/18Ex4J57MhJ7ou358jFXFx)
|
||||
 | MUST DIE!, Ducky | [DELETE IT ALL](https://open.spotify.com/track/5O07W27wy7OxoRLT71zlkB)
|
||||
 | lapix | [Day by day - PSYQUI Remix](https://open.spotify.com/track/5kiluGP5yfujqTwMLin7nZ)
|
||||
 | The Buttress | [Brutus (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0m5xMNMK48sQVjASd4YPPt)
|
||||
 | Moon Bounce | [Drugs](https://open.spotify.com/track/1dS2BDYFU52VfFQoWqticB)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [Vaultage 003](https://open.spotify.com/track/1eQF4JMgSGhbG6ODZs2saB)
|
||||
 | Kayzo, Kamiyada+, Tisoki | [NEWS FLASH (Tisoki Remix)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7C4nn81sUVe0QWqDPJiyGw)
|
||||
 | Space Laces | [D.A.W](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qiNqpbZzziUVJdVe45hGg)
|
||||
 | Ceptre | [Rapt](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ViE0MdFlkprHTPRkUXcWE)
|
||||
 | Runnit | [nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3M1lmzO08DlyE64hZeyGxU)
|
||||
 | Stickleback | [Nasti](https://open.spotify.com/track/3b6m0TTQTWIM9sWfPcnI02)
|
||||
 | ellis | [Feel That Way](https://open.spotify.com/track/1qMak6TgZIdfcCzuGIAZyU)
|
||||
 | Jain | [Come](https://open.spotify.com/track/02R2z7JWV0G8VuU1xs58OB)
|
||||
 | Rubik | [Sun's Eyes](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BSx590I5G70vsLSgUOtQK)
|
||||
 | TV On The Radio | [Quartz](https://open.spotify.com/track/0xXmPzAdGlPBaJ0csqYxYs)
|
||||
 | Air | [How Does It Make You Feel?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IoqGTH2D6zMrGzg9gW0DL)
|
||||
 | Donovans | [Yo !](https://open.spotify.com/track/3aqo7jZDEYfdMf54batJE2)
|
||||
 | Donovans | [Rise & Fall](https://open.spotify.com/track/49063mI7ykBk32B7sc1JFg)
|
||||
 | gladde paling | [hap slik weg](https://open.spotify.com/track/0y002KpsM1aIDJALtmT7j7)
|
||||
 | ratbag | [rats in my walls](https://open.spotify.com/track/518SyWWJhPl7HHUSPfyRjL)
|
||||
 | Cheese People | [Доля риска](https://open.spotify.com/track/0nPnpl0Y5h4tVdMylsXAPZ)
|
||||
 | SWRSLT | [Pretty Cvnt](https://open.spotify.com/track/2CTcTL788DBaFLnc6QJSzv)
|
||||
 | GRiZ, Chrishira Perrier | [Feel It All](https://open.spotify.com/track/6bD33B9oE9ZtilNhHUpOBz)
|
||||
 | KOAN Sound | [Liquid Levity](https://open.spotify.com/track/4GZlLTrZY7rU7iTaFkvBQi)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Ode To The Big Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/7bRUWmwVk8zpZtWfER4DjW)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Malika](https://open.spotify.com/track/1rFmHtg8I3YxF22TFkbOKP)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Bridge](https://open.spotify.com/track/5OI6WSmcih616fK3njeXUJ)
|
||||
 | Men I Trust | [Show Me How](https://open.spotify.com/track/01TyFEZu6mHbffsVfxgrFn)
|
||||
 | Jaga Jazzist | [Airborne](https://open.spotify.com/track/60W51PvuIPnEZFeDxUQYvZ)
|
||||
 | The Flashbulb | [Morning Run](https://open.spotify.com/track/42ABM8zfyW0FAZiozJO5Dz)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Carnivores Unite](https://open.spotify.com/track/56oUD9ZzgSSDFgvLHxoWyZ)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Rainbow Rhodes](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VEJWBbeBbOX6N0UwXlM3x)
|
||||
 | BADBADNOTGOOD, Leland Whitty | [Confessions (feat. Leland Whitty)](https://open.spotify.com/track/1K5RjfNOb6OLnQcAUv6M6b)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Ashes in the Hudson](https://open.spotify.com/track/6IWLG6T4gRPxT8WQ1dS1F2)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Lord of Them Thangs](https://open.spotify.com/track/1K7jVq5hzZBpMnIk0ptsFx)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Boundary Issues](https://open.spotify.com/track/3MF02Y0lVDHnpmz3u0nlwQ)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Greetings and Incelutations](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qF55f0MwuBq6UKuTlj7sH)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [The Candy Tangerine Man](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Vh6OLJT82qI74sD6ha38l)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Let's Play the Feud!](https://open.spotify.com/track/4YNtqYKNGQnpSvAFLWyK6E)
|
||||
 | Blockhead | [Werewolves Love Astrology](https://open.spotify.com/track/6h5b7Xb7SZcdDhVRiEXUrK)
|
||||
 | Amon Tobin | [Chocolate Lovely](https://open.spotify.com/track/4C8GnT67x8TIdU0WGBGMi8)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Man With The Movie Camera](https://open.spotify.com/track/5JB5F9iGwQqALGClKdeOky)
|
||||
 | Bill Laurance | [The Good Things](https://open.spotify.com/track/7drkN9v3cX4CqA8gTq3pPB)
|
||||
 | Camo & Krooked, Mefjus, Sophie Lindinger | [No Tomorrow](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KaYnQBP5CUorQKKuKmRUO)
|
||||
 | Lemon Jelly | ['64 aka Go](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ycMDFsh41kYb20qMpcaYP)
|
||||
 | Dusty Brown | [This City Is Killing Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sIVrEY8WNhQNpON9BmXTd)
|
||||
 | ALEPH | [R.E.M.](https://open.spotify.com/track/62eu93RUHKTIg9bm6VZ6WS)
|
||||
 | Telefon Tel Aviv | [When It Happens, It Moves All by Itself](https://open.spotify.com/track/3iWujTdDJSoD5szrWFGaRF)
|
||||
 | SOHN | [Life Behind Glass](https://open.spotify.com/track/6f9qcrWRocvwwCJmXTgrDb)
|
||||
 | London Grammar | [Leave the War With Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/5TcC7QvyRQfoIImqtgkY6n)
|
||||
 | phonon | [emme](https://open.spotify.com/track/3p15F46vmAIGEdwHEApt4i)
|
||||
 | Bear Ghost, Dan E.T. | [Rivers Is A Vampire](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Ej4QdOFpwulV2GPWbfp6T)
|
||||
 | Alamaailman Vasarat | [Kebab Tai Henki!](https://open.spotify.com/track/4i80bt0e0qtfuYDUJe2mjG)
|
||||
 | Fiona Apple | [Waltz (Better Than Fine)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7neXV046ou4CNN9wyFAED6)
|
||||
 | YACHT | [I Walked Alone](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kfSLLnpy0dADpQMYNRGBM)
|
||||
 | Daedelus | [Order of the Golden Dawn](https://open.spotify.com/track/35y3vuKI65sR7xDN1Bmms5)
|
||||
 | Tomasz Stanko Quartet | [Kattorna](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ADj39oPKmDPh7jyXHexc5)
|
||||
 | Boom Bip | [The Use of Unacceptable Colours In Nature](https://open.spotify.com/track/40AV6TtV4wwy5SpC2pwue1)
|
||||
 | Dave Brubeck | [40 Days](https://open.spotify.com/track/11lsAp77IGBuiBNiZXxG5K)
|
||||
 | Skalpel | [Sculpture](https://open.spotify.com/track/7sftbhGr5Zffdmfqc8Vn3r)
|
||||
 | Clark | [Secret](https://open.spotify.com/track/21bLnN0PsCgWfXfNEQf70n)
|
||||
 | Siriusmo | [Liu](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JFBwzNht1BKVJVJLG44Cm)
|
||||
 | Shigeto | [First Saturn Return](https://open.spotify.com/track/3tfnKNTdXxLzllMod7gDFN)
|
||||
 | The Cinematic Orchestra | [Flite](https://open.spotify.com/track/1g7bl2LDCom7jtX2EmHRSF)
|
||||
 | Savath & Savalas | [Te Quiero Pero Por Otro Lado…](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ihEokHX5A4ZSgEOJu7gky)
|
||||
 | Oliver Nelson | [Stolen Moments](https://open.spotify.com/track/1sce5VJvCOYYDAR9rp9KdG)
|
||||
 | Ibrahim Maalouf | [Will Soon Be a Woman (Live au Babylon Istanbul, 2013)](https://open.spotify.com/track/64xWIjAe9NhyJCSqQWzp9s)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Ewà Inú](https://open.spotify.com/track/6dSoU34pWjbjZG2gt9gnqH)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Dide O](https://open.spotify.com/track/7COHkKOtDI7qSl5tIBaZYN)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Soul Searching](https://open.spotify.com/track/3N7ytAAHbxItaopO4YYULB)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Those Good Times](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qXrlThrUo2ePdQ1KUHGiU)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Interlude](https://open.spotify.com/track/7KPa4A0Lfo8AuxKhj2OBUi)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Something's Going On](https://open.spotify.com/track/7e9ReVRPkkpBGG4R1as4xI)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Ti-de](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Hkcul01Ct8ToAZkc71Ktf)
|
||||
 | Kokoroko | [Uman](https://open.spotify.com/track/6PcUrU7NeRBg7i1GPE1Wyu)
|
||||
 | João Donato | [Manha de Carnaval](https://open.spotify.com/track/0kfdvJhyb0QHBG1IM9Vlht)
|
||||
 | Elis Regina, Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Só Tinha De Ser Com Você](https://open.spotify.com/track/209ucYTS6vWEV5iydrHiOt)
|
||||
 | Elis Regina, Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Fotografia](https://open.spotify.com/track/4O2tMlIxlgRwmNQDElwIq4)
|
||||
 | Antônio Carlos Jobim | [Children's Games](https://open.spotify.com/track/0oiNDJWFLPQoAm35OwT66P)
|
||||
 | beabadoobee | [the perfect pair](https://open.spotify.com/track/41P6Tnd8KIHqON0QIydx6a)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK | [SMiLE](https://open.spotify.com/track/1HJXdfuWc6IlKBMLtITaHD)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK | [WHATUP](https://open.spotify.com/track/4VOWwshTx9YrUpAGD9IzqA)
|
||||
 | DOMi & JD BECK, Thundercat | [BOWLiNG (feat. Thundercat)](https://open.spotify.com/track/3Sk51FK0sTdiRQN477u5oq)
|
||||
 | Robert Glasper, Q-Tip, Esperanza Spalding | [Why We Speak [Feat. Q-Tip & Esperanza Spalding]](https://open.spotify.com/track/7tQESAjUFNA4vi6xVOTjoQ)
|
||||
 | All Day Breakfast Cafe | [What If Nile Rodgers And Fela Kuti Were Friends](https://open.spotify.com/track/3VeOPOlEAwZU0d4jBMcBbA)
|
||||
 | Camilla George, SANITY, Daru Jones | [Creation - Abasi and Atai](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Yjaf4MMGPFiEQgAO0WrQ0)
|
||||
 | The Comet Is Coming | [LUCID DREAMER](https://open.spotify.com/track/0mubGHecC0YHTmO2pp9EJ1)
|
||||
 | atlas, Flavors | [valentine (prod. flavors)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mpv8gh1F6B7e2OdytGZ6l)
|
||||
 | Haywyre | [Memory](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gOMB2W8ylgZkuQFagFsx2)
|
||||
 | Haywyre, CoMa | [Time](https://open.spotify.com/track/1BjfvCbE0KIHenBZdd1Wxn)
|
||||
 | Haywyre, Galimatias | [Voice of Reason](https://open.spotify.com/track/3NwRDwchI8iCk8Ru3gpUoV)
|
||||
 | Moonchild | [The List](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mWh956KP56IWMbLBfxdqj)
|
||||
 | Hiatus Kaiyote | [Mobius Streak](https://open.spotify.com/track/08o9yCplgxLM11ymhvkbl8)
|
||||
 | PJ Morton, Yebba | [How Deep Is Your Love (feat. Yebba) - Live](https://open.spotify.com/track/3SjAiqAQ6sMmsJBeVw0nMf)
|
||||
 | Dana and Alden, quickly\, quickly | [Coconut Water](https://open.spotify.com/track/48HATQmXssKoCAqhaFjtAh)
|
||||
 | Clara Mendes | [Útil Paisagem](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DuE8wVFGkhuA5GmZqkZcz)
|
||||
 | Thundercat | [Them Changes](https://open.spotify.com/track/7CH99b2i1TXS5P8UUyWtnM)
|
||||
 | Justice | [D.A.N.C.E](https://open.spotify.com/track/33yAEqzKXexYM3WlOYtTfQ)
|
||||
33
content/extras/music/neviim.md
Normal file
33
content/extras/music/neviim.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,33 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Nevi'im playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | San Fermin | [The Woods](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pd7F7P48KLCYbQWY6U807)
|
||||
 | Miracle Musical | [The Mind Electric](https://open.spotify.com/track/2aDk1KkyB7ieSwwEDXCHJg)
|
||||
 | Goreshit | [The Nature of Dying](https://open.spotify.com/track/1MrjlbHioxHQDfsYDHJG0F)
|
||||
 | The Comet Is Coming | [Birth Of Creation](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CuOokDRR0Z2r1WaPRXKaF)
|
||||
 | Gotye | [State Of The Art](https://open.spotify.com/track/408QQavPDnC2iXSqVgU3EV)
|
||||
 | Hecq | [Bête Noire](https://open.spotify.com/track/13NQ17cpLr2fybZ38AkuCi)
|
||||
 | Hecq | [Bane](https://open.spotify.com/track/34CvPQftKcrQxSUxTtBvua)
|
||||
341
content/extras/music/qoheleth.md
Normal file
341
content/extras/music/qoheleth.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,341 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Qoheleth playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [What Do You Know?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PYkiul9hjpW4RNSHRrJRR)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Ambulance Chase](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mOxAfHsYo0SsmPhVKEWVD)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Approaching the Shimmer](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ULapvPU8DcInhd4o5PhYJ)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Disoriented](https://open.spotify.com/track/6pFlQy20pWMyBb47sDlVa5)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Alligator](https://open.spotify.com/track/0juXJUnKNGLiJCqPO1sY2a)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [For Those That Follow](https://open.spotify.com/track/2YYKcu6R5QDfcWX4oCVpdX)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Swimming Pool](https://open.spotify.com/track/7jG7p7VMHcVXm6Je5T5DZO)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Watchtower](https://open.spotify.com/track/7l0UcQcITJgWRVsgJgYwH1)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Sheppard](https://open.spotify.com/track/4kpUsBfquW2AXd2rN6IOkq)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Body](https://open.spotify.com/track/1DivRhfSZKJK2QxHBL6qwJ)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Plant People](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ABLZBrDuNuqGtKPgwfxD6)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Cells Divide](https://open.spotify.com/track/6pTGmUcqGlgpwVLVNZicqT)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Bear](https://open.spotify.com/track/5GJ5gz0oFr13YVnkQWDhtW)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Beach](https://open.spotify.com/track/2MUrfbDGVkBtSsexxlgGW3)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Were You Me?](https://open.spotify.com/track/1DUR5rEBEaOEr0mRaeNHE5)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Lighthouse Chamber](https://open.spotify.com/track/2o5hXb5BiNY5jGeOxLRqYG)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Alien](https://open.spotify.com/track/3M0YZKONqBRpxPMDTKA1WP)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Annihilation](https://open.spotify.com/track/2xS8vyJmeWBr0ThwgK7OTK)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Is That What Everybody Wants](https://open.spotify.com/track/37HGk102fbFIycZv6OOd6L)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [First Sleep](https://open.spotify.com/track/5iTNbszxj1Hw0AUc7wW2X0)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Can I Sit Next to You](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ahEoDsfOOundgdwQQjxKL)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Will She Come Back](https://open.spotify.com/track/2wrbg13lhxOtbigzryMqhN)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Death Shall Have No Dominion](https://open.spotify.com/track/5J9TeeHF2PQqhJmQeCx559)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Maybe You're My Puppet](https://open.spotify.com/track/3MbpUO6YE0EbwRDixbnI3p)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Don't Blow It](https://open.spotify.com/track/11vZYwrj6XindaL3xUbykY)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Hi Energy Proton Accelerator](https://open.spotify.com/track/6l2DLrmHxQRRMEOxTEZtd5)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Wear Your Seat Belt](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SQoVlfuKF9lvUAjBwBELv)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [Wormhole](https://open.spotify.com/track/1LKx7LRgh5BNZwgKuCRmye)
|
||||
 | Cliff Martinez | [We Don't Have to Think Like That Anymore](https://open.spotify.com/track/6HSPvO0VOv1nRUKpvJr5C1)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Arrival](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KBwrmtoKe5QjfW2RhhpOf)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Heptapod B](https://open.spotify.com/track/0wvldPbWwuellRqCfzL4eu)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Sapir-Whorf](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kSjrmelOKQDaK9EwXM6lH)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Hydraulic Lift](https://open.spotify.com/track/6MJfWycSxII8VsoqhOkWpa)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [First Encounter](https://open.spotify.com/track/7Et10xE2nh3VG94O1948Zh)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Transmutation at a Distance](https://open.spotify.com/track/3zkEJP943rHOY62UUnvHwn)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Around the Clock News](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BYQpDXoGEkLYebhhnCthi)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Xenolinguistics](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Dge9zwQPqBxsZMnIphwwD)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Ultimatum](https://open.spotify.com/track/1LJVB2YaySkpVJFE476tRm)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Principle of Least Time](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Q5KHLOMdpVFB2IIjEw8dl)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Hazmat](https://open.spotify.com/track/6VOgZ2xzvWflp44QZucpTv)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Hammers and Nails](https://open.spotify.com/track/3M0XCMo3jiVxFIZzFO4Oio)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Xenoanthropology](https://open.spotify.com/track/3kdrT8EIozoq9yaipUmgDe)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Non-Zero-Sum Game](https://open.spotify.com/track/0phDhOS0iEC2xG6SG7xj7l)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Properties of Explosive Materials](https://open.spotify.com/track/7d8RZm17X89KC6IeK2oUAx)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Escalation](https://open.spotify.com/track/2z48feJ6L82BkkQ92nrGaq)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Decyphering](https://open.spotify.com/track/0XkigGwAEa97JNcsTzxNHJ)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [One of Twelve](https://open.spotify.com/track/1MoN51Q8Mm7A5DsllooVFS)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Rise](https://open.spotify.com/track/70efLf4vXM5rCNtFu82HX5)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Kangaru](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Uoa2uh62TtDR1fLmVXJyW)
|
||||
 | Max Richter, Louisa Fuller, Natalia Bonner, John Metcalfe, Philip Sheppard, Chris Worsey | [On The Nature Of Daylight](https://open.spotify.com/track/7HvhQfQDlYCB4n73r4duw2)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Hoyt's Office](https://open.spotify.com/track/1UdiJ6Y2eisfQQ76MZOX4B)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Defeated Clown](https://open.spotify.com/track/2S2ASICVK0L1LtjaysKsel)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Following Sophie](https://open.spotify.com/track/3iX22wD2o9YQLvkXOPUHgx)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Penny in the Hospital](https://open.spotify.com/track/0J4ZIUe41KyDVDd4ZjgHak)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Young Penny](https://open.spotify.com/track/0u2NLEpkGaPwFptuhWkVwY)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Meeting Bruce Wayne](https://open.spotify.com/track/5HaKAODFS4Md49bVyYSp1y)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Hiding in the Fridge](https://open.spotify.com/track/7v9PHznmxWpqLnDC2ZJXTB)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [A Bad Comedian](https://open.spotify.com/track/5x7zV8WBDXfNCkUYOffc8d)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Arthur Comes to Sophie](https://open.spotify.com/track/0dvAO2KbsqDZGv8g03JFRy)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Looking for Answers](https://open.spotify.com/track/6CYwk3fy8OPIy4ibjNlNv6)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Penny Taken to the Hospital](https://open.spotify.com/track/40RaUosMp8ROAFVeqrKZGw)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Subway](https://open.spotify.com/track/5v4fLdYC2vnAZkNiUQOzMM)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Bathroom Dance](https://open.spotify.com/track/4WiqPbWvLbv317E8fB4SJC)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Learning How to Act Normal](https://open.spotify.com/track/0voDqz72ORk3JETp1OUZiz)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Confession](https://open.spotify.com/track/510PIa8YyYMp4rfeni1N07)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Escape from the Train](https://open.spotify.com/track/73AkJzcsv5pm3uNqcUd9pZ)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Call Me Joker](https://open.spotify.com/track/257SoE95qEweGItCB9Q5rE)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [The Door](https://open.spotify.com/track/0aud7NouD28YTcD7WJzioD)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Bridge of Death](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VwxuwHdpY19gZvyA7TlyU)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Turbine Hall](https://open.spotify.com/track/1cS7AxpJiwDhCh7v2B0LRd)
|
||||
 | Homin Lviv Municipal Choir | [Vichnaya Pamyat](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NU8pIT0Yp8wgaUiHZM90w)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Pump Room](https://open.spotify.com/track/0QaXPrIEeDhRZCLqzJo7ED)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Clean Up](https://open.spotify.com/track/6dXQxlyj1fMPhX8i7LfP4d)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Dealing With Destruction](https://open.spotify.com/track/14LxYedUSDzuNwalQPgTGu)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Waiting for the Engineer](https://open.spotify.com/track/5J8q5cw7J5O7FUWn3VQ8kQ)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Gallery](https://open.spotify.com/track/0GvSIY2o7974HN53WZZDIi)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [12 Hours Before](https://open.spotify.com/track/3pcrD4NBBBQGMJATRhk25C)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Corridors](https://open.spotify.com/track/4f76tcz3PKwty5QVA8JVCA)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Líður - Chernobyl Version](https://open.spotify.com/track/6HVsARWIlJiv6ujVfEbTlH)
|
||||
 | Hildur Guðnadóttir | [Evacuation](https://open.spotify.com/track/5peOOgPogTScqCtUtm0MF5)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Modern Fears - Pilotpriest Come True Version](https://open.spotify.com/track/4piNjR6dYbh5IEYaVbgdAa)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Runaway - Pilotpriest Come True Version](https://open.spotify.com/track/6BgCxKTKOJS1yenEHS9TA0)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth, Pilotpriest | [Coelocanth](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gCu17NuqqWivvD1nHskUC)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Come True](https://open.spotify.com/track/29qyIGLF7AR9c9NNf8txkn)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Prologue](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JuVPpJ0fRu2Y0xqPd03Dv)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [The Seeker](https://open.spotify.com/track/1TSgJM4vLVBsVGJ0g0lGbV)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Don't Know Her](https://open.spotify.com/track/3jMhEbltB4qa1ijplfl72L)
|
||||
 | Pilotpriest | [Title](https://open.spotify.com/track/2FfDI6QCCnvWgqHrVp8nnb)
|
||||
 | Pilotpriest | [Rested](https://open.spotify.com/track/4O9qMAjFBRp9QYuLdu3uTK)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Lost Girl](https://open.spotify.com/track/5znC7rPbHCfivcuyHvu37I)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Hall of Glass](https://open.spotify.com/track/5gurRutNnCeM3AxbsvdD1Z)
|
||||
 | Pilotpriest | [Watching](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ERhmyAVLQ59OTlJNzAcf6)
|
||||
 | Pilotpriest | [Nothing](https://open.spotify.com/track/0yQKS7CvHaengLXPY3kl9B)
|
||||
 | Electric Youth | [Sarah](https://open.spotify.com/track/1iCAHJk8pld30YgKhqZALZ)
|
||||
 | Pilotpriest | [Forgiven](https://open.spotify.com/track/1dhgu2cBM8WmfOObR2OQLo)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Abide With Me](https://open.spotify.com/track/0PcKKeLU7eYbirCHoKVxcj)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Hail the Day that Sees Him Rise](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ITwiwTaS7QluVFbnye0JJ)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Holy Holy Holy](https://open.spotify.com/track/2J9reOzClbvDHAMC0uc6xZ)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Lead Kindly Light](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RfBoeHl1GD3jFPkfzXSKH)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Come, Darkness](https://open.spotify.com/track/41fk5AVSD6KSE4Zr2UTl8m)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Were You There](https://open.spotify.com/track/3x9tUWYF1AircEDZohiJrc)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [O Sons and Daughters](https://open.spotify.com/track/23gQVy29gLhbV5hHGBVhD1)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Holy God We Praise Thy Name](https://open.spotify.com/track/0A1czIKjy9hLHvFRD86iMI)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Nearer My God To Thee](https://open.spotify.com/track/7teVogYyH0Wb7dqALqplzf)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [The Power of Faith](https://open.spotify.com/track/4cp0O3Syex3xyjj8vFZU1O)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Mortuus Feles](https://open.spotify.com/track/6kiKdP8j48NBaQ7ASUNnsz)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Mercy](https://open.spotify.com/track/2WSfFalTbg8bW2uZ56ZfyS)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Aftermath](https://open.spotify.com/track/1xlmHM77f9bQUcnjhT6Zuk)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Dignity](https://open.spotify.com/track/5IEp1Ozue5cfV8MRLQC8VD)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [The Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/5xh5WwzKezA1kIiJecb9c3)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Angel of God](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ylqyfsGxiXdOyfUMf7QDg)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Lead Kindly Light (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5xFkh78chItueKD1VfsPjt)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Faith & Family Blood](https://open.spotify.com/track/46ZLBXVTUYHirPQ70ulWur)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Prayer](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ippyBANHrPRiwnyIm9U4H)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Act of Contrition](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Yc2pA6dWyDUFY2bfYvYCp)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Hurt](https://open.spotify.com/track/5PCUnHG7mUaLLCuFr36suV)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [12th Century Revenants](https://open.spotify.com/track/7KRY3Dg08rOzB7kPhAQCyx)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Communion](https://open.spotify.com/track/6fHs3VemHK77Cq9ToFmSjh)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Nearer My God To Thee (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/07sfSbq6VwEM6aKjB0p4xz)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Body of Christ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0DdwLBxhFlASnniVAYjHgs)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Were You There (Instrumental)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5xcqyZe147tZ37fVf3KWq7)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Armoured Vehicle](https://open.spotify.com/track/4MV4b1CbDQA0ecXdUZT0DV)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [The Beast - From "Sicario"](https://open.spotify.com/track/5KwLjZ0oJ5kNl7jGtdiIOC)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [The Border](https://open.spotify.com/track/2nGe8PeDIYPL8WwFnkOE9X)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Drywall](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ebaQqjDRlpfmSPA1CJOzS)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Explosion](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hbW1swwx3aUIvJu1RVo55)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Desert Music](https://open.spotify.com/track/03RruqL6P3illbLLitAKnB)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Target](https://open.spotify.com/track/6f1a8YrVPgUS1FlgLuZCiz)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Convoy](https://open.spotify.com/track/2sRWX53pyWT4NHh8U8dAfV)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [The Bank](https://open.spotify.com/track/4IzIGJ3Wti1JQ0C90hQyal)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Surveillance](https://open.spotify.com/track/6oaWcTf869W77d9AnJNWjR)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Reflection](https://open.spotify.com/track/6K2lDUwJ7gJXXyeRJ7L2Rj)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Melancholia](https://open.spotify.com/track/65k3wKdFTFXfeZHYDP1cMe)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Night Vision](https://open.spotify.com/track/4jBJPHQWq9FH3NCqOdH7Rg)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Tunnel Music](https://open.spotify.com/track/7a4KbWDrECJWgJAcCGtNLD)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Fausto](https://open.spotify.com/track/0j01xYLnun6ek2b03bGF0H)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Balcony](https://open.spotify.com/track/1IqwoO63w91XgIk1C8G5Ol)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Soccer Game](https://open.spotify.com/track/55h1vYt3utYrc6ltI97PAx)
|
||||
 | Jóhann Jóhannsson | [Alejandro's Song](https://open.spotify.com/track/7wD0b6gMa6bOxyag0N3IHh)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Plainsong](https://open.spotify.com/track/0YiKoeSKJ6bxZr17g0iRwW)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Stranger Danger](https://open.spotify.com/track/6yxTAuxptj8GBN9supKWFT)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Amaya Corporation](https://open.spotify.com/track/0MZQfw6ewxHvyAPwvfc4K3)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Entering Devs / The Machine](https://open.spotify.com/track/4OHeBgOvvF2P8k6sq3HbMK)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Stealing The Code](https://open.spotify.com/track/6MOAa3YUutxSdh0RmuL4Aa)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Two Concurrent States (Plainsong, Pt. 2)](https://open.spotify.com/track/239tZrsxv9C6euER9MVsX9)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Tramlines](https://open.spotify.com/track/4FuFEiwIPVOaXazixAVH7g)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Were You Listening?](https://open.spotify.com/track/3b3VpkVgn4Al3x8jPKroFn)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Suffocation](https://open.spotify.com/track/6oL3IkY6iibKNGdeKEE004)
|
||||
 | The Insects, Ben Salisbury | [You're Fired](https://open.spotify.com/track/3JQgNxzv8YmFp1yvfUEqNN)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Christ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NUZTRxbt3pNHmGAX6BDvc)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Sudoku](https://open.spotify.com/track/5in7m2xyPhjrjRki4d9k43)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Amaya's Theme - Version 1](https://open.spotify.com/track/749JTYkGRHbIjvN9qZPc2r)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [The Visualisation Chamber](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VxHv9nejH1Tn37FozFOS5)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Reporting a Crime](https://open.spotify.com/track/4AVWxWNeCYN49SHRluEOzi)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [All Possible Worlds](https://open.spotify.com/track/0zzwVHf6hGatw6M6yqdky6)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [I'm a Tank](https://open.spotify.com/track/3CgEC074f1esYFYuZ2QeYt)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Specifically You](https://open.spotify.com/track/6IOVwKvRFmDjWhycZjlUOp)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Crash No Crash](https://open.spotify.com/track/66XKuK1lY1hofltSkIJ7T5)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Stay In My Bed](https://open.spotify.com/track/5tx2lJ72804fgGW69hFpW6)
|
||||
 | Suvi-Eeva Äikäs, Ben Salisbury | [Object Input](https://open.spotify.com/track/5i9D2c5WCxwJ9W5ZbC0RbY)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [All Buddies Now](https://open.spotify.com/track/6xyRjmkoBRdJ2NP3BL6v0t)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Suvi-Eeva Äikäs | [Keep Extrapolating](https://open.spotify.com/track/0vuDDo5Lg8kNTnSAILcVxr)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Someone Crazy](https://open.spotify.com/track/6MLXiuGrmx5F13uaY3gJZ3)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Ad Infinitum Ad Nauseam](https://open.spotify.com/track/2be6tagNwAfqlKqX2X0THo)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Aubade](https://open.spotify.com/track/5ThBIZScJPtoARP9hRSQSg)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [You Were Counting In Russian](https://open.spotify.com/track/71awFunu6VbevBkpNUnzPH)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [Cause And Effect](https://open.spotify.com/track/4jgICLEd9aNmCU6xIXKLHl)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Aftermath](https://open.spotify.com/track/11ocA3RCgaefdQ143qvW1i)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [The Universe Is Deterministic (Plainsong, Pt. 3)](https://open.spotify.com/track/2wCEpC5FOPqwziXVZPNVIW)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury, Geoff Barrow | [The Day Will Break](https://open.spotify.com/track/26hGKpBoijcrenbydVDqoG)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [The Second Coming](https://open.spotify.com/track/5nS7edb7UAtYlJZVwu3Zfv)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Resurrection](https://open.spotify.com/track/7iy7DrwWjEbNAWdPF6blEV)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Your System Breaks](https://open.spotify.com/track/1bCyLOyJ3ZhYclS2dHCPP2)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [This Is Where You Say Goodbye](https://open.spotify.com/track/6rcg5fjMsJLwKsCtkcJUnD)
|
||||
 | The Insects | [Predetermined](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ijmstmOZ4f1c97kgEGAqI)
|
||||
 | Ben Salisbury | [Amaya's Theme - Version 2](https://open.spotify.com/track/7EpfVd2uadMJWqJJxYXieD)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Layers](https://open.spotify.com/track/27gt9MBpqfXdwFrPokT2Nh)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Devious](https://open.spotify.com/track/0SLbskbbbxlitC9Vs6Bx71)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Naughty Cat](https://open.spotify.com/track/7gluxuAPrGnUC6VXj2XbTN)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [I Remember Everything](https://open.spotify.com/track/7lrwPL4deo8mcHC6190qLE)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Estranged](https://open.spotify.com/track/5PjYu50uXCxNpRkbyXxbD5)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [The Public](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Bunr5aANXt2oZBXnZ2lyS)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Another Layer](https://open.spotify.com/track/1jRy7Rqd9AsUOLNMPwuV5d)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [I Remember Everything (She's Just a Girl)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VD5FEZBtcZmZPF5mCjcZs)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [White Rose](https://open.spotify.com/track/4CvYcTgh4GoaNbuICFfnXo)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Devious Daddy](https://open.spotify.com/track/2lZ4Ky5J2jyP0C1SJNyxSn)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [I Remember Everything (Kids)](https://open.spotify.com/track/2myCyNYqHuWZNhiTNIDuza)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [What If He Did It to Me?](https://open.spotify.com/track/4cge48tQTbRbmGkTaKYGVT)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Dee (Happy Birthday)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5DCM3C93bFbVja9JBLLzwz)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Or... We Could Have a Drink Together](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Suaug3y9agBfqmJ5rR8S3)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Paul vs Paul](https://open.spotify.com/track/74famuP144CakuVtpEmnNH)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Why She Loves You and Not Me?](https://open.spotify.com/track/1VAaBS1pMN647yFmVlLYdN)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Father & Daughter (I'm a Good Man)](https://open.spotify.com/track/6J1XihZHzgB3h4hJzF9JdP)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [I Choose to Believe](https://open.spotify.com/track/7iNfRdGfWMOnvRG2FhjKIw)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Prayer](https://open.spotify.com/track/1etHz4G8uTVMMNLVe1Xp9b)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Devious Buddies](https://open.spotify.com/track/5Cdr7acVMN41uAaBMyaDCy)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [I Remember Everything (Too Much for All of Us)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0iFOY7yYLCZdf7rLncvLC7)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Well Tipped](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mexmd0mfofjDPm1MVsDIr)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Beach Party](https://open.spotify.com/track/6uudF0uMeK43wy8hzKOD29)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Dee (Damaged)](https://open.spotify.com/track/6zUff2BRI3mQbpuSVD4QBF)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Can I Come Home, Dad?](https://open.spotify.com/track/2qB3ErigErlfx3DSD5VqNz)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [The Third Layer](https://open.spotify.com/track/0oG7CbSIQZUMSIxxhJ0M9S)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [The Trial](https://open.spotify.com/track/7n1JPwSFRDq1n3HKWrkUbY)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Always Look Forwards](https://open.spotify.com/track/5CtaSIIPBqbbknK9Gcg5mz)
|
||||
 | Cristobal Tapia De Veer | [Marie](https://open.spotify.com/track/1O7OjZ5cjk1ArciR8pdhhO)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Midnight Black Earth](https://open.spotify.com/track/4RWPfyAtyDtA0zebsL2pqc)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Crimson Ways](https://open.spotify.com/track/6DCucKDvfe2Hqc3PWMB9rF)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Maximum Black](https://open.spotify.com/track/6RHJvMCoUgQ5CSBFUEL9RI)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Vigilante Crusade](https://open.spotify.com/track/79YisR6Zg9qdJiRMmGikQB)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Destroying Angels](https://open.spotify.com/track/5YQvY683Ptoz98wvYcT18Z)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Grave Wisdom](https://open.spotify.com/track/51hwoQVaY2HVPZkvgndK5J)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Constant Fear](https://open.spotify.com/track/3KJeOdlwj5W0c9XIrjqzY0)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [Skeletal Remains](https://open.spotify.com/track/6YRPCVWGgOCoQJXwcLN5ZF)
|
||||
 | Bohren & Der Club Of Gore | [The Art of Coffins](https://open.spotify.com/track/455JpjYNqs2ujamhjBXDFY)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Introduction](https://open.spotify.com/track/1UQyukEDF4YIOcAK0p7j39)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Reborn in the Mind of Another](https://open.spotify.com/track/5mt3j7zAtAlbcGw0TRigjE)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [A Psychic Poison](https://open.spotify.com/track/5CBftxMGrLCofFMPgAYPZz)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Some Distant Coast](https://open.spotify.com/track/14uKCPDSaiP9q8DWYxDrk7)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Mind in It's Own Place](https://open.spotify.com/track/3YRs8oUREzzNwy7FqJpprs)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Attracts Our Avarice](https://open.spotify.com/track/2ScSnQqQva3gNHbEIbIKTA)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Prison in Your Mind](https://open.spotify.com/track/2u7jn5DdaOHbmzga6aWeoy)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Skin After Successive Skin](https://open.spotify.com/track/13hpo9jOqvLU1Ymt26srbL)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Sin of Being Born](https://open.spotify.com/track/0slCcOVjxSTFKHuRAAPHTV)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Shudder of His Awakening](https://open.spotify.com/track/5wdRHAXiXfYzTKWjMqxjAo)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Cry of a Mistaken Soul](https://open.spotify.com/track/4p3ElMxYHE0uZMv5KMKENP)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Owned Cannot](https://open.spotify.com/track/2XpeDNfs7MGhxhZguBXBib)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Friction and Shallow](https://open.spotify.com/track/3u7Iub4dRsbpQLGVhJINLa)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [A Rustling in the Leaves](https://open.spotify.com/track/6NOrIgNPBYKznmX49yl77e)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [House as a Servant](https://open.spotify.com/track/0kUg2InLqIMZYK3s7ONSNl)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [A Change to Destroyer](https://open.spotify.com/track/4PRPpAhNy7dnKoB6R4bZGg)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Power Dictates](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ApPHcwxKglF95oUg5HzEC)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Symptoms of Disease](https://open.spotify.com/track/1erD6zHSV5Pll8LY3ZjPfh)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Opposite Inaccessible Corner](https://open.spotify.com/track/3HsVDcg7y2YknmfpaFof0b)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [An Enslavement](https://open.spotify.com/track/3NsiHKY2wo6INPshD8XFY5)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Owned Cannot have a Soul](https://open.spotify.com/track/3UcvANfEm0cLHfg6MBBCcC)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Possessors are Possessed](https://open.spotify.com/track/64E3RrMWAKZIapIvU909PG)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [A False Reputation](https://open.spotify.com/track/69yxeOglmy5yJNgWe2NEIk)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [In It's Own Place](https://open.spotify.com/track/5krRrB6IqV7jKhBHFtj2jK)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Serve Or Govern](https://open.spotify.com/track/0EElVGD1OCVLw89Bo9krlt)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [The Owned Cannot have a Soul of it’s Own](https://open.spotify.com/track/4gj3eOMBqcXx9xIsPz4Sr3)
|
||||
 | Jim Williams | [Possessor](https://open.spotify.com/track/1WndvIxLc9QVdU9dNvSlLk)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Hand Covers Bruise](https://open.spotify.com/track/1v0uVPU6BWcbog5BiWLWVa)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [In Motion](https://open.spotify.com/track/50CgC2wKmbWm4WLQKY87oP)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [A Familiar Taste](https://open.spotify.com/track/1TNFOXxCmzx57mxZfuPOAN)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [It Catches up With You](https://open.spotify.com/track/2cryrajucGmbV6mwNUhQPB)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Intriguing Possibilities](https://open.spotify.com/track/5hQGVKSgTsh7qaReZzVgtq)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Painted Sun in Abstract](https://open.spotify.com/track/3s7IxbPCt3cVSiGhZ3HwvR)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [3:14 Every Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/6mJ5uZ33r2y1TRrax79k5p)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Pieces Form the Whole](https://open.spotify.com/track/3PK7tZzJxuoJYoik7j3p1H)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Carbon Prevails](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pKo3vzmrlG2KcRVqzdoA5)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Eventually We Find Our Way](https://open.spotify.com/track/5i4q6tlmlRQHhgFIKWIfrm)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Penetration](https://open.spotify.com/track/0AJUX8BRUehB6RHPZUOoYS)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [In the Hall of the Mountain King](https://open.spotify.com/track/0GO1QWs0YvDmmoTHUqitvf)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [On We March](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pjelKVG4cgbS6mt0DaL60)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Magnetic](https://open.spotify.com/track/2RM11uElCksFYP5P6EArNC)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Almost Home](https://open.spotify.com/track/7b32aLn3gja5SECcWjD7Yz)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Hand Covers Bruise, Reprise](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ndsthfZGldH8L62kDOMlF)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Complication With Optimistic Outcome](https://open.spotify.com/track/2E4kEsRBvtWu8CazZ6qiQw)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [The Gentle Hum of Anxiety](https://open.spotify.com/track/08JAdQ7sRbKRu1ccuhg5ZV)
|
||||
 | Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross | [Soft Trees Break the Fall](https://open.spotify.com/track/4R5yVjajdiX8m1EYhG0Yml)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Circling](https://open.spotify.com/track/2DwO4OlMqWvxZGv1zarisK)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Abandoned City](https://open.spotify.com/track/1QXw5kpi5VFza9rKZQ9ZPX)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Idas House](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Rd7jbr10O2hPJzFe4u7HP)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Hat On](https://open.spotify.com/track/58cs2ChOtT7p9pHReFn88Q)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Use the Wind](https://open.spotify.com/track/6rxC9KWFgkwVe6tRW2rysQ)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Try the Perfect Sail](https://open.spotify.com/track/1Gc4VyrRflZiohBpmHwABZ)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Travel](https://open.spotify.com/track/4KGIt3VOrlg7avVCszvRYq)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Tsunami](https://open.spotify.com/track/5S1octrE8PWwRSWTJRwbLj)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Survived](https://open.spotify.com/track/3tmTiXNp4ndjWeSvEjYAVC)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Dockyard Tale](https://open.spotify.com/track/1wkpEXg77cw45hKAkPahEi)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Rough Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/1jyyeqJsUb8MuGoZBSLNFw)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Totem](https://open.spotify.com/track/49Rl4dJbjsoNcnh6S8Q0QT)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [First Dive](https://open.spotify.com/track/5W14BXvzOAm6rT8SgQ3SSY)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Tunnel](https://open.spotify.com/track/7tN3Pi0Lw45fOB5Fi5B6kk)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [University](https://open.spotify.com/track/6mFO88T3C612TT6ZKDUQRA)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Seagate](https://open.spotify.com/track/7rbge4le51cu5PWdcDHrUJ)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Boost](https://open.spotify.com/track/2nq9mJi6qKOfCgAQjDbuVQ)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Open Sea](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ljw1WLHpT6uNO8ZMvoKzC)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Trench Down](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ThflpGlIyjLlGVxm9IZWn)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Sunken City](https://open.spotify.com/track/12KUfAzS3wGnIDQzMqJa4H)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Rise](https://open.spotify.com/track/7p1Cu60uC0kDiMPwLRwkIt)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [A New Dusk](https://open.spotify.com/track/396coQOC5JaHoprde5XK1q)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Uncertain](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZcvVFHiDM7UYFAua6Nqqd)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Seismo](https://open.spotify.com/track/7IrJheDchP4uStbYoW0PCi)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Cramping](https://open.spotify.com/track/13ziS9xD9TsX4uJkgkjPFM)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Ship Graveyard](https://open.spotify.com/track/6bfOj84o9HbadY0VYswyNh)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Frozen Cave](https://open.spotify.com/track/7kXhztP8C4WzsvlP6ZACGl)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Charge Air](https://open.spotify.com/track/2SzshcMUAuhhwfsS8sIQ9b)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Waterfall](https://open.spotify.com/track/2UofkPRembCPdCSO8Z7FSd)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Round](https://open.spotify.com/track/452oTSL8zMcbT1jJBTd2oU)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Turn](https://open.spotify.com/track/6hb6ZMJblsHmOUUbqa0kzh)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Alone](https://open.spotify.com/track/0Yf1FglIGIG6y9pNcWGK9e)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Rise - Piano](https://open.spotify.com/track/32X1DAw0m6bS9z0WUL2ubt)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Open](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qRmKnR9hbgsBg8b60BHbk)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Colored Engine](https://open.spotify.com/track/2U832A0zdb8OABhBmFjlWS)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Sail, My Friend!](https://open.spotify.com/track/2OqDNKzLJXJ4VGiAgJGhed)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Lights On](https://open.spotify.com/track/13MQubq9XEcykI1vzjZYEy)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Bridge](https://open.spotify.com/track/5rgCRHZm8j51DMJajtr4CY)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Rain. Storm. Thunder.](https://open.spotify.com/track/06jZsLwA0DQn6ANUaerpbU)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/68MIrPRlJ7DPiu9lh7ifBO)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [First Glimpse](https://open.spotify.com/track/7oItNmbj04I0g87oSq0Wb0)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [More To See](https://open.spotify.com/track/0V5l5n3U1yw5aRJjx9xz5T)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Not Alone](https://open.spotify.com/track/4SMeggwUvkrYGZgICGk5JA)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Inconvenient Circumstances](https://open.spotify.com/track/5h3qaQCqMj7iUxmwtKlh12)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Sun. Down.](https://open.spotify.com/track/73S32Q2rQpYuJwMy67LZSK)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Swamptown](https://open.spotify.com/track/2CzIp8DpuWzxiDH3Q4TXfN)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Abandoned Construction Site](https://open.spotify.com/track/5yOkymqJNR3ilQYDSrtoqx)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Explore It!](https://open.spotify.com/track/5h2Y97usfZfjlhZXo7lVU7)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Drive It!](https://open.spotify.com/track/0kKKNguEOEOfYC3xecdaBf)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Still Driving](https://open.spotify.com/track/5spCeyBvhvZL1ne5oAvtS3)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Canyon](https://open.spotify.com/track/3Tuo8OKvCKXnfmbcPfAJ3l)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Warmth In The Cold](https://open.spotify.com/track/65u9GK8FvEewxjVtHeS3PE)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Disorientated](https://open.spotify.com/track/5CnJWLy2XqLk9L07uj2PmT)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Half](https://open.spotify.com/track/3ymz16oDvYHxghniCA5S0l)
|
||||
 | Joel Schoch | [Lone Sails](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Bcyn3j8hmvhrWSPeoghYj)
|
||||
37
content/extras/music/selected-letters.md
Normal file
37
content/extras/music/selected-letters.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,37 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: '"Selected Letters" playlist'
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | The Mars Volta | [L'Via L'Viaquez](https://open.spotify.com/track/1LuPrOdGp4NSWVsJ2sPJOx)
|
||||
 | The Mars Volta | [Cygnus...Vismund Cygnus](https://open.spotify.com/track/2mmygsZnoEzJHXzEMgLd76)
|
||||
 | The Mars Volta | [Televators](https://open.spotify.com/track/23qnota5Iyg4f9LNdNIC1D)
|
||||
 | The Mars Volta | [Take The Veil Cerpin Taxt](https://open.spotify.com/track/76hTx8SeM6aGvDBSwcKAxX)
|
||||
 | tricot | [POOL](https://open.spotify.com/track/6qL7sccU4FQS6zUgKCzNu6)
|
||||
 | toe | [孤独の発明](https://open.spotify.com/track/2RJuCZXtZYubzTW78kmaBx)
|
||||
 | LITE | [Echolocation](https://open.spotify.com/track/51Vs7KeraqZwfR5OQLuaeI)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [Fire Back About Your New Baby's Sex](https://open.spotify.com/track/01VhYbUIdJABCY4Ceupxbn)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [I Never Liked You](https://open.spotify.com/track/4hNDjZgETQs9rgt1gGSrTe)
|
||||
 | Don Caballero | [A Lot of People Tell Me I Have a Fake British Accent](https://open.spotify.com/track/0VRYOFM08tk2wGhHWKGgnx)
|
||||
 | American Football | [Never Meant](https://open.spotify.com/track/4ZDyo32Vg4avIKHaDfZSOg)
|
||||
52
content/extras/music/toledot.md
Normal file
52
content/extras/music/toledot.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,52 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Toledot playlist
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
thead th {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
text-justify: none;
|
||||
vertical-align: middle;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
border: 2px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td img {
|
||||
max-width: 100px;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
margin: 0;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #ddd;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Cover | Artist | Song
|
||||
---|---|---
|
||||
 | John Adams, Edo de Waart, San Francisco Symphony, Vance George, San Francisco Symphony Chorus | [Harmonium (for large orchestra and chorus): Part 1 - Negative Love](https://open.spotify.com/track/7dzOAMFmsoh6RUoEVFjB3D)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Edo de Waart, San Francisco Symphony, Vance George, San Francisco Symphony Chorus | [Harmonium (for large orchestra and chorus): Part 2 - Because I Could Not Stop For Death - Wild Nights](https://open.spotify.com/track/1iuL1YdJjxgh8QaP0uiSF9)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: Harmonielehre: I. (without title)](https://open.spotify.com/track/7kJc6hdQ79uouOAtrLQ7sP)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: Harmonielehre: II. The Anfortas Wound](https://open.spotify.com/track/2eMJycx5zTjjLLlT4BuGu2)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: Harmonielehre: III. Meister Eckhardt and Quackie](https://open.spotify.com/track/4XnXmrafs24PyqTrkLSK2M)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: The Chairman Dances (Foxtrot for Orchestra)](https://open.spotify.com/track/0AR6xpBb04j3hNMAD1iImJ)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Sir Simon Rattle, Wesley Warren, Jonathan Holland, City Of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra | [Adams: Two Fanfares for Orchestra: I. Tromba Lontana](https://open.spotify.com/track/6TzJ39DGy54ZdNOj7k9q7g)
|
||||
 | John Adams, Orchestra of St. Luke's | [Adams: Fearful Symmetries](https://open.spotify.com/track/3LzOote7hVyDzoBM51DUOn)
|
||||
 | Alfred Schnittke, Elena Dof-Donskaya, Valery Polyansky, USSR Ministry of Culture Chamber Choir | [Concerto for Choir: II. I, an Expert in Human Passions, Composed this Collection of Songs, Where Every Verse is Full to the Brim with Blasck Sorrow](https://open.spotify.com/track/4DEHRfw9u44yQfnjZ43Vn1)
|
||||
 | Alexey Fyodorovich Lvov, Novospassky Monastery Choir, Igumen Mitrofan | [Meeting and vesting of Bishop: Cherubic Hymn](https://open.spotify.com/track/0BFin5lbxIgQ8sWTxt5T9O)
|
||||
 | Henryk Górecki, John Nelson | [Euntes Ibant Et Flebant, Opus 32](https://open.spotify.com/track/7pJRYupSjX81NzvOYnh1aB)
|
||||
 | Henryk Górecki, Dawn Upshaw, London Sinfonietta, David Zinman | [Symphony No. 3, Op. 36: I. Lento - Sostenuto Tranquillo Ma Cantabile](https://open.spotify.com/track/7Mx00Ye1ypcK1hToeKyrVl)
|
||||
 | Homin Lviv Municipal Choir | [Vichnaya Pamyat](https://open.spotify.com/track/5NU8pIT0Yp8wgaUiHZM90w)
|
||||
 | Morten Lauridsen, Non Silentium | [Introitus](https://open.spotify.com/track/51aJs8wDg8LmPikmkZLFvB)
|
||||
 | Morten Lauridsen, Non Silentium | [In Te Domine Speravi](https://open.spotify.com/track/0904GPDnFYuEiXjatHxRSF)
|
||||
 | Morten Lauridsen, Non Silentium | [O Nata Lux](https://open.spotify.com/track/60SAtEYfsyFsDLTrpbCif1)
|
||||
 | Morten Lauridsen, Non Silentium | [Veni Sancte Spiritus](https://open.spotify.com/track/6ICDhwt9KlTfVIwUPHUYEh)
|
||||
 | Morten Lauridsen, Non Silentium | [Agnus Dei - Lux Aeterna](https://open.spotify.com/track/2JHt39JG6iSrUXPepx9zk3)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists | [Mid-Winter Songs: I. Lament For Pasiphaë](https://open.spotify.com/track/7HMMOkSubtQHO2i3lLqW9n)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists | [Mid-Winter Songs: II. Like Snow](https://open.spotify.com/track/4zWeAcVQ2uixSWeTElUCgz)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists | [Mid-Winter Songs: III. She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep](https://open.spotify.com/track/11eHlOh1uLlwu3Wdc3f7zy)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists | [Mid-Winter Songs: IV. Mid-Winter Waking](https://open.spotify.com/track/5gxVY94QEgBy1MJJSnf8k0)
|
||||
 | The Singers - Minnesota Choral Artists | [Mid-Winter Songs: V. Intercession In Late October](https://open.spotify.com/track/7docyBJ5ERdaZowXEMmvCk)
|
||||
 | Jessica Curry | [The Sleep of Death](https://open.spotify.com/track/4gNqDcPa1e4kWua7wMBklH)
|
||||
 | Jessica Curry | [For Ever](https://open.spotify.com/track/2pMP7DH9KlOFauR9F1mh9l)
|
||||
 | The Newton Brothers | [Nearer My God To Thee](https://open.spotify.com/track/7teVogYyH0Wb7dqALqplzf)
|
||||
11
content/extras/nanon/_index.md
Normal file
11
content/extras/nanon/_index.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Nanon
|
||||
layout: single
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Nanon is the common language spoken by the four races aboard Artemis. Originally secondrace's language, it has become the *lingua franca* amongst all Artemisians — and, after convergence, all humans who joined Artemis in its ongoing journey. It is an artificial language originally created in 2002 by Madison Scott-Clary as a way to alleviate the boredom of a Latin class. For a while, all digital copies were lost, with one [hard copy and notes](http://nanon.lang.drab-makyo.com/old/Nanon.pdf) remaining in a binder on her bookshelf. Now, sixteen years later, the docs have been scanned and the language is being typed up again. Due to being younger and dumber, the tone and quality is...not great, but the information is provided nearly in full to anyone interested.
|
||||
|
||||
* [Phonology](phonology)
|
||||
* [Syntax](syntax)
|
||||
* [Vocabulary](vocabulary)
|
||||
* [Examples](examples)
|
||||
20
content/extras/nanon/examples.md
Normal file
20
content/extras/nanon/examples.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,20 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Examples
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Babel text
|
||||
|
||||
1. Enzen mununier houka dehoudev an nanonam ate nanoni esles de t'n.
|
||||
2. Jaranuvier esdedev henunam up Shinar ate sunahier esles bronumam.
|
||||
3. Nanonier esles tho eslas, "Za tapotier esles anem estafataram." Unzen mununier eslas estafataram ate suroevier eslas estafataram de t'n tho suroevla rutar.
|
||||
4. Nanonier eslas, "Za tapotier esles bresdulam ate håzh brodåtam lubåtla hanaozhi raealam; ate za tapotier esles håt tapotevam eslesen aet nu eslesi esfetåtev nutho lubåt."
|
||||
5. Atoe zen båti Raedev ate jaruvier achlas bresdulam ate habrodåtam estdedeven.
|
||||
6. Zen nanoni anaodehoudev, "Jaruvia, eslasi an dehoudev ate mununier esles an nanonam; at tapotier esdedev lasam, za tapotier esdedev houal."
|
||||
|
||||
## 1 Corinthians 13
|
||||
|
||||
4. Loråtla fetach. Anåt fetach. Nu kufemotla fetach. Nu haleputatla fetach. Nu haledatåtla fetach.
|
||||
5. Nu halesupotla fetach. Nu tuvårier fetach lubåtam t'ner. Nu kufori set fetach. Nu mununier fetach esunotalam.
|
||||
6. Nu jaruvåtier fetach unotalam - Ato harahier t'n houka anåtalam.
|
||||
7. Mununier fetach houkalam, konemier t'n houkalam, horanemier t'n houkalam, hatarier t'n houkalam.
|
||||
8. Nuka jodoti fetach...
|
||||
37
content/extras/nanon/phonology.md
Normal file
37
content/extras/nanon/phonology.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,37 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Phonology
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Consonants and semivowels
|
||||
|
||||
| Stop (v/u) | Fricative (v/u) | Sibilants (v/u) | Nasals | Semivowels
|
||||
---|---|---|---|---|---
|
||||
Glottal | -/x | -/h | - | - | -
|
||||
Velar | g/k | - | - | - | -
|
||||
Palatal | dzh/tsh | -/ch* | zh/sh | - | -
|
||||
Dental | d/t | -/th | z/s | n | l
|
||||
Labial | b/p | v/f | - | m | w
|
||||
{: style="text-align: center" }
|
||||
|
||||
## Vowels
|
||||
|
||||
* a - father
|
||||
* å - bought
|
||||
* e - bet
|
||||
* i - beet
|
||||
* o - alone
|
||||
* u - moot
|
||||
* ' - uh*
|
||||
|
||||
## Diphthongs
|
||||
|
||||
* ae - bite
|
||||
* ei - bait
|
||||
* ou - own
|
||||
* ao - brown
|
||||
|
||||
All other vowel combinations either aspirate the second vowel or separate with a glottal stop.
|
||||
|
||||
## Accentuation
|
||||
|
||||
Meaning does not vary by accentuation, but usually falls on the penultimate syllable.
|
||||
230
content/extras/nanon/syntax.md
Normal file
230
content/extras/nanon/syntax.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,230 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Syntax
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
Throughout this section, the various parts of the grammar of Nanon would be described, along with small examples. The examples will talk about you, your dog, a friend named Joseph, and his dog. Not a terribly interesting storyline, but hopefully it'll explain the subjects of the section. This section assumes you've at least glanced at the [Morphology](/morphology) section.
|
||||
|
||||
## Simple phrases
|
||||
|
||||
Being an inflecting language, Nanon has a fairly free word order, but phrases tend to go VSO - verb, subject, object. You can tell what's going on, who's doing it, and, if needed, who it's being done to. That's just putting it roughly, of course, but we're still in the simple phrases section, so we won't get into stuff like doing something with someone else to someone and their dog quite yet.
|
||||
|
||||
### The simplest example
|
||||
|
||||
The most basic example is a statement containing just a verb and a subject in the present tense.
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåti les.
|
||||
|
||||
You've already seen *mabåt*, which means walk. We know that the *-i* suffix turns it into the verb 'to walk'. *Les* is the personal pronoun of rht efirst person 'I'. This simple example means "I walk."
|
||||
|
||||
### Adding an object
|
||||
|
||||
It'd be nigh impossible to talk in sentences like that, though; we need objects. If we're going to have objects, though, we're going to need to make the verb transitive. Keeping with the theme of you and your dog, we'll make the dog the object, since that's usually what a person walks:
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåtier les henånam.
|
||||
|
||||
We have our *les* and our *mabåti*, but with the addition of *-er*, the transitive suffix. The word for dog is henån, but the one in this example has the suffix *-am*. This is the accusative suffix, which makes the word the direct object of the verb. So our sentence means "I walk the dog". *N.B: Nanon does not, as yet, differentiate between definite and indefinite verbs - there is no way to say 'the dog' vs 'a dog'.*
|
||||
|
||||
### Showing possession
|
||||
|
||||
"I thought we were talking about my dog..." Well, for that, we have to learn a new case. A case is a variation on the root word. Nanon has three cases: nominative (the root word by itself - "the/a \_\_\_"), the accusative (the root word plus *-am* - the object of the verb), and the new one: genitive (the root word plus *-en* - "of (the/a) \_\_\_"). So if we want to talk about our dog, we'll add a genitive form of "I" to make it "my":
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåtier les henånam lesen.
|
||||
|
||||
Notice how the *lesen* follows the *henånam*; we wouldn't want to say "I of me walk the dog". This is one of the few places where word order matters in Nanon. Thus, "I walk the dog of me".
|
||||
|
||||
## Joining phrases
|
||||
|
||||
There are a few ways to join phrases in Nanon: you can uses the standard conjunctions, or the list modifiers. Standard conjunctions are almost completely like English, with the conjunction separating the two nouns (they still have some differences, as we'll see). List modifiers are the first modifiers you'll learn to use; they join (usually) three or more nouns together into an and-list, an or-list, a xor-list, or a negative-or-list.
|
||||
|
||||
### Standard conjunctions
|
||||
|
||||
The standard conjunctions were cribbed mostly from Latin. Because of their origin, these conjunctions are fairly similar to those of English except for one or two differences: a few of the conjunctions use the word twice, and one of the conjunctions doesn't exist in English as one word (it does, however, exist in most computer languages).
|
||||
|
||||
The first conjunction we'll use will be *ate*, which means "and".
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåti les ate henån lesen.
|
||||
|
||||
We've got the standard lineup: you and your dog. This time, however, you're not walking your dog, you're walking with it, so the verb isn't transitive. This one's fairly easy: "My dog and I walk".
|
||||
|
||||
What if you're not walking your dog, though? What if your friend Joseph is? Or both of you together?
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåtier les ite Josef henånam lesen.
|
||||
|
||||
Now that the dog is back to being walked, we're back to transitive, and we need to see who's walking it: you or Joseph (spelled 'Josef' in Nanon). *Ite* is slightly different than in English, in that it's intrinsically inclusive. That is, if something is or'd in Nanon, it means that one, the other, or both together may be doing the action. Exclosive or, or xor, doesn't have a direct counterpart in English, but the closest example is "either X or &, but not both". In computers or logic, this is represented as `(X xor Y)`. In Nanon, it's represented as *ete X ete Y* - there are two *ete* because that was one of the parts copied from Latin.
|
||||
|
||||
Now let's change the previous example and say you don't want to go walking with Joseph, but you'll let him walk your dog:
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåtier ete les ete Josef henånam lesen.
|
||||
|
||||
There: "Either Joseph or I (but not both together) walk my dog". To negate this, you can use the negative form *nete* for "neither X nor Y":
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåtier nete les nete Josef henånam lesen.
|
||||
|
||||
### List modifiers
|
||||
|
||||
List modifiers connect a series of words, phrases, or sentences (depending on the global affix) by surrounding them like parentheses. Depending on the modifiers, there is one for each conjunction, the words are connected in different ways: words connected with the 'and' modifier *atek...atet* act like a string of words connected by 'and'. and likewise for the rest of the modifiers: *itek...itet* for 'or', *etek...etet* for 'xor', and *netek...netet* for 'neither/nor'.
|
||||
|
||||
List modifiers are the standard conjunctions with *-k* appended to the opening modifier and *-t* appended to the closing one. Keeping with our walks, let's all go for one:
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåti atek les, Josef, henån lesen atet.
|
||||
|
||||
By surrounding the list with the 'and' modifier, we connected all of the words with 'and', leaving us with "Me and Joseph and my dog walk". This example includes commas, like in English. We can make it a riddle as to who's walking by switching to 'or', which specifies that any combination of the subjects walks:
|
||||
|
||||
> Mabåti itek les, Josef, henån lesen, henån Josefen itet.
|
||||
|
||||
We've added Joseph's dog to the mix: "I, Joseph, my dog, or Joseph's dog (or any combination thereof) walk".
|
||||
|
||||
## Compound phrases
|
||||
|
||||
Conjoining phrases works very similarly to conjoining nouns, but uses a prefix to modify the conjunctions such that they apply to phrases.
|
||||
|
||||
### Conjoining phrases
|
||||
|
||||
> Nanoni les inate mabåti Josef.
|
||||
|
||||
It makes sense that if *Nanon* is a noun, and a Nanon word itself, it can also be a verb. In this case, it means 'to speak'. Here, we've used the prefix *in-* to cause the conjunction to apply on a phrase scope. In slangy speech, this can be dropped, as it's often evident from context. Here, we have "I talk and Joseph walks".
|
||||
|
||||
Let's add a conjunction: *ato*. It looks a lot like *ate* and works rather like 'and', however, it expects a truth statement following it. In English, it's called 'but' (*ete* can similarly be changed to *eto*, which means 'except'):
|
||||
|
||||
> Nanoni les inate mabåti Josef ato roevi avles.
|
||||
|
||||
In the above example, we use the prefix *av-* (from *av* - 'two') to indicate a dual state - thus, when combined with *les*, we get *we both*. (On that note, the plural prefix, *es-* comes from *es* - 'three', which simply indicates a plurality). Therefore, *avles* means 'we both'. *Roevi* (from *roev* - 'tree') means 'grow', so here we have the rather saccharine "I speak and Joseph walks but we both grow".
|
||||
|
||||
### Lists of phrases
|
||||
|
||||
It follows that we can apply this to list modifiers as well. These, however, do require the phrase scope prefix *in-*.
|
||||
|
||||
> Inatek nanoni les, mabåti Josef, henåni henan Josefen inatet.
|
||||
|
||||
The verb form of dog is 'to wag', so that makes our sentence "I talk, Joseph walks, and Joseph's dog wags."
|
||||
|
||||
## Questions
|
||||
|
||||
We have Yet Another Affix to deal with, which creates a question. This addition, however, is an infix which only occurs in six words: *bronum* - 'place, location', *loran* - 'time', *lubåt* - 'reason', *dedev* - 'person', *uchlas* - 'it, thing' (neuter 3rd person pronoun), and *båt* - 'way'. The affix by itself is also a modifier that makes the sentence into a yes or no question, or implies a 'whether'. If the words for 'yes' and 'no' are *ka* and *nu* respectively, that is the expected answer.
|
||||
|
||||
### The five W's and the H
|
||||
|
||||
The affix/word in question is *aen*. It is how questions are made in Nanon. When combined with certain words, it forms the questions *bronaenum* 'where', *loraenan* - 'when', *lubaenåt* - 'why', *dedaenev* - 'who', *uchlaenas* - 'what, which', and *baenåt* - 'how'.
|
||||
|
||||
> Dedaenev mabåti?
|
||||
|
||||
"Who walks?"
|
||||
|
||||
> Bronaenum mabåti los?
|
||||
|
||||
"Where are you walking?" - *los* being the 2nd person pronoun.
|
||||
|
||||
> Loraenam za mabåti los?
|
||||
|
||||
"When will you walk?" - *za* will be covered in tenses.
|
||||
|
||||
> She uchlaenas uchlas mabåti los?
|
||||
|
||||
"Towards what thing are you walking?" - *she* being 'towards'.
|
||||
|
||||
> Lubaenåt mabåti los?
|
||||
|
||||
"Why are you walking?" Really, why are any of us walking?
|
||||
|
||||
> Baenåt mabåti les?
|
||||
|
||||
"How do I walk?"
|
||||
|
||||
### Yes and no
|
||||
|
||||
Placing the question modifier before the word that's being questioned (word order important) asks a yes or no question. If you are expecting a a certain response, add that response to the end of the question.
|
||||
|
||||
> Aen mabåti los?
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you walk?"
|
||||
|
||||
> Aen mabåti los, ka?
|
||||
|
||||
"You do walk, don't you?"
|
||||
|
||||
> Aen za bromuni los, nu?
|
||||
|
||||
"You won't go, will you?"
|
||||
|
||||
## Tense
|
||||
|
||||
This section assumes that you've read the section on modifiers in [morphology](/morphology) first, to get a taste of tense modifiers.
|
||||
|
||||
As you know, our tense words are *ze* for past, *zo* for present (though it's usually implied) and *za* for future. You should know also that the suffix *-n* makes the tense perfect, or completed. These words, like most modifiers, default to modifying theverb that they come before, but can modify a phrase or entire sentence with the appropriate prefix. This makes it quite easy to mix tenses within a sentence.
|
||||
|
||||
> Za jaruvier los Josefam ze lasi januruvam.
|
||||
|
||||
"You will see that joseph was a spy". *Jaruvier* is the transitive verb form of 'see' put into the future tense by *za*. *Ze* puts *lasi* (the verb form of the pronouns becomes the verb 'to be', thus *lasi* - 'they are') in the past tense, so Joseph (who is in the accusative case for *jaruvier*) was in the past a spy, or *januruv*. Joseph and *januruv* are both in the accusative, though, so how do we know which is the object of *lasi*? The answer is that it doesn't matter, because 'to be' in Nanon is like an equal sign: it makes both nouns the same.
|
||||
|
||||
Why isn't *za* in its phrase form, *inza*? Because *jaruvier* is transitive, and it still requires its object to be a full phrase. The truth is, you can often use the unmodified version of the modifier in place of the phrase or sentence version, and still have it make sense:
|
||||
|
||||
> Ze mabåti les she esroevam, ato inza majarbåti les she estanunam.
|
||||
|
||||
Which means "I was walking to the treas, but I will run to the mountains". *Majarbåt* is 'to walk' plus the 'fast' descriptor infixed to make 'to run'. a *tanun* is a mountain, which is plural with the prefix *es-*. The same sentence with the phrase-modified tenses, however, would mean the same thing:
|
||||
|
||||
> Inze mabåti les she esroevam, ato inza majarbåti les she estanunam.
|
||||
|
||||
## Numbers
|
||||
|
||||
Nanon counts in base-10, so the numbers are similar, but they're strung together in an almost Mandarin fashion: the numbers count up to ten, then it's ten plus a number, then for twenty, it's two tens, three tens for thirty, and so on.
|
||||
|
||||
0. *'s*
|
||||
1. *an*
|
||||
2. *av*
|
||||
3. *es*
|
||||
4. *er*
|
||||
5. *et*
|
||||
6. *on*
|
||||
7. *ov*
|
||||
8. *or*
|
||||
9. *ur*
|
||||
10. *ans*
|
||||
11. *ansan*
|
||||
12. *ansav*
|
||||
{: start="0" }
|
||||
|
||||
And so on, until 20, which is *avans*, 30 - *esans*, and so on. Here are some random numbers:
|
||||
|
||||
* *mans* - 100
|
||||
* *ant* - 1,000
|
||||
* *nant* - 10,000
|
||||
* *mansant* - 100,000
|
||||
* *anc* - 1,000,000
|
||||
* *avans es* - 23
|
||||
* *erans av* - 24
|
||||
* *ant ermans urans av* - 1,492
|
||||
* *ant ovmans ovans av* - 1,776
|
||||
* *anc avmansant esnans erant etmans onans ov* - 1,234,567
|
||||
|
||||
*Mans* is different, because otherwise, following the pattern, *onnans* and *onans* would sound alike.
|
||||
|
||||
These numbers, by themselves, act as descriptors. If you want to talk about the number two, or number two in a set, precede the number with the word 'number', *sanav*. To say cardinal numbers, put the number in its verb form, as in *Ani Eskorinthev Anses* - First Corinthians 13 (see examples). Also, note the *-ev* suffix on Corinth: this comes from *dedev*, which means person. The *-ev* suffix, therefor, means a person of the noun it modifies, so *-ev* on Corinth means a Corinthian.
|
||||
|
||||
### Math
|
||||
|
||||
Addition - "Number with number is number"
|
||||
: *an tho an lasi av*: 1 + 1 = 2
|
||||
|
||||
Subtraction - "Number without number is number"
|
||||
: *av nutho an lasi an*: 2 - 1 = 1
|
||||
|
||||
Multiplication - "Number by/against number is number"
|
||||
: *av lar an lasi av*: 2 * 1 = 2
|
||||
|
||||
Division - "Number except number is number"
|
||||
: *er eto av lasi av*: 4 / 2 = 2
|
||||
|
||||
Exponents - "Number by/against again is number"
|
||||
: *av lar'che av lasi er*: 2 ^ 2 = 4
|
||||
|
||||
Logarithms - "Number by/against an anonymous thing is number"
|
||||
: *ans lar'che t'n mans lasi av*: Log10 100 = 2
|
||||
|
||||
Roots - "Number except again root is number"
|
||||
: *er eto'che av lasi av*: sqrt(4) = 2
|
||||
|
||||
## A note
|
||||
|
||||
> Something must be said about the semantics of Nanon, as words separated by one letter become different parts of speech, and mean different things. Nouns and their verb components should not always be taken as near synonyms, even though this may sometimes be the case. For example, a word that means a driver of an automobile does not automatically mean 'to drive an automobile' in it's verb form. It might be best to learn the noun and verb form separately and not think of the -i as an affix, then realize later that there is a connection between the two words.
|
||||
>
|
||||
> Also, care must be taken to enunciate certain words carefully, as they may differ by just a vowel. The biggest problem, perhaps, would be the gender prefixes ach- and ech-
|
||||
64
content/extras/nanon/vocabulary.md
Normal file
64
content/extras/nanon/vocabulary.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,64 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
type: page
|
||||
title: Vocabulary
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
tbody tr:nth-of-type(odd) td {
|
||||
background-color: #eee;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody td {
|
||||
padding: 0.5rem;
|
||||
border: 1px solid white;
|
||||
}
|
||||
tbody tr td:first-child {
|
||||
font-weight: bolder;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
<table id="vocab">
|
||||
<thead>
|
||||
<tr>
|
||||
<!--<th>ID</th>-->
|
||||
<th>Entry</th>
|
||||
<th>Role</th>
|
||||
<th>Meaning</th>
|
||||
</tr>
|
||||
</thead>
|
||||
<tbody id="vocab-list"></tbody>
|
||||
</table>
|
||||
|
||||
<script src="/sql.js"></script>
|
||||
<script type="text/javascript">
|
||||
var xhr = new XMLHttpRequest();
|
||||
xhr.open('GET', '/extras/nanon/vocabulary.sqlite3', true);
|
||||
xhr.responseType = 'arraybuffer';
|
||||
var body = document.getElementById('vocab-list');
|
||||
xhr.onload = function(e) {
|
||||
var uInt8Array = new Uint8Array(this.response);
|
||||
var db = new SQL.Database(uInt8Array);
|
||||
var contents = db.exec("SELECT * FROM words");
|
||||
contents[0].values.forEach((row) => {
|
||||
var tr = document.createElement('tr');
|
||||
|
||||
/*var id = document.createElement('td');
|
||||
id.appendChild(document.createTextNode(row[0]))
|
||||
tr.appendChild(id);*/
|
||||
|
||||
var entry = document.createElement('td');
|
||||
entry.appendChild(document.createTextNode(row[1]))
|
||||
tr.appendChild(entry);
|
||||
|
||||
var role = document.createElement('td');
|
||||
role.appendChild(document.createTextNode(row[2]))
|
||||
tr.appendChild(role);
|
||||
|
||||
var meaning = document.createElement('td');
|
||||
meaning.appendChild(document.createTextNode(row[3]))
|
||||
tr.appendChild(meaning);
|
||||
|
||||
body.appendChild(tr);
|
||||
});
|
||||
};
|
||||
xhr.send();
|
||||
</script>
|
||||
BIN
content/extras/nanon/vocabulary.sqlite3
Normal file
BIN
content/extras/nanon/vocabulary.sqlite3
Normal file
Binary file not shown.
86
content/extras/summaries.md
Normal file
86
content/extras/summaries.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,86 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Summaries of larger works
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## The Post-Self Cycle
|
||||
|
||||
The Post-Self Cycle were the four original large works that spawned the Post-Self setting in general.
|
||||
|
||||
### Qoheleth (2019)
|
||||
|
||||
> *“All artists search. I search for stories, in this post-self age. What happens when you can no longer call yourself an individual, when you have split your sense of self among several instances? How do you react? Do you withdraw into yourself, become a hermit? Do you expand until you lose all sense of identity? Do you fragment? Do you go about it deliberately, or do you let nature and chance take their course?”*
|
||||
|
||||
With immersive technology at its peak, it’s all too easy to get lost. When RJ loses emself in that virtual world, not only must ey find eir way out, but find all the answers ey can along the way.
|
||||
|
||||
And, nearly a century on, society still struggles with the ramifications of those answers.
|
||||
|
||||
Features the bonus novella *Gallery Exhibition: A Love Story.*
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Qoheleth/synopsis)**
|
||||
|
||||
### Toledot (2022)
|
||||
|
||||
> "I am saying that you trust me — really trust me — and that life in the System is more subtle than I think you know. You let me into your dreams, my dear, and your dreams influence this place as much as, if not more than, your waking mind."
|
||||
|
||||
No longer bound to the physical, what lengths should one go to in a virtual world to ensure the continuity of one’s existence?
|
||||
|
||||
Secession. Launch. Two separations from two societies, two hundred years apart. And through it all, so many parallels run on so many levels that it can be dizzying just keeping up. The more Ioan and Codrin Bălan learn, the more it calls into question the motivations of even those they hold most dear.
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Toledot/synopsis)**
|
||||
|
||||
### Nevi'im (2022)
|
||||
|
||||
> “Do you know how old I am, Dr. Brahe? I am 222 years old, a fork of an individual who is…who would be 259 years old. I am no longer the True Name of 2124. Even remembering her feels like remembering an old friend. I remember her perfectly, and yet I do not remember how to be earnest. I do not know how to simply be."
|
||||
|
||||
The cracks are showing.
|
||||
|
||||
Someone picked up on the broadcast from the Dreamer Module and as the powers that be rush to organize a meeting between races, Dr. Tycho Brahe is caught up in a whirlwind of activity. And as always, when the drama goes down, there is Codrin Bălan to witness it.
|
||||
|
||||
When faced with eternity in a new kind of digital world, however, old traumas come to roost, and those who were once powerful are brought to their knees
|
||||
|
||||
Growth is colliding with memory, and the cracks are showing.
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Nevi'im/synopsis)**
|
||||
|
||||
### Mitzvot (2023)
|
||||
|
||||
> “To be built to love is to be built to dissolve. It is to be built to unbecome. It is to have the sole purpose of falling apart all in the name of someone else."
|
||||
|
||||
Even the grandest of stories can feel small and immediate when it’s just one person’s life.
|
||||
|
||||
One of the most well-known names from one of the most well-known clades on the System, the avatar of political machinations and cool confidence, has been brought low. With help coming only from Ioan Bălan and the most grudging of support from her cocladists, all True Name has left to save herself is the ability to change.
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Mitzvot/synopsis)**
|
||||
|
||||
## Other works
|
||||
|
||||
### Motes Played (2024)
|
||||
|
||||
Motes played.
|
||||
|
||||
She played because she was play. She played because that was her role in life, because that is just who she was. She played with color, played with life, played with death.
|
||||
|
||||
She played with fire.
|
||||
|
||||
Motes played, because how could she not?
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Motes_Played/synopsis)**
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
### Marsh (2024)
|
||||
|
||||
> “I am seeing quiet chaos. I am seeing most of my sims emptying out. The ones that are not empty, however, remain dreadfully quiet. Most of those who are out and about have set up over themselves cones of silence. Those who have not, though, are decidedly not quiet. More than one silence has been broken by weeping and wailing.”
|
||||
|
||||
New Year's Eve, 2399, and Lagrange is celebrating almost three centuries of relative peace. Yes, there have been surprises, there has been drama and political intrigue, but life has, by and large, been quite good for those who have chosen to upload their consciousnesses. The celebrate birthdays and anniversaries. They fall in and out of love. They fork, creating copies of themselves to accomplish tasks or live out their own independent lives. Their memories build up and up forever within them.
|
||||
|
||||
2.3 trillion souls gather in quiet homes, in bars and restaurants, in parks and along prosaic main streets, and count down seconds to the new century.
|
||||
|
||||
And then, without warning, everything comes grinding to a halt. The internal clock of the System hits one second before midnight, December 31, 2399, and then it hits midnight, February 11, 2401. One year, one month, and eleven days have gone missing.
|
||||
|
||||
And so has one percent of the population of Lagrange. 23 billion souls lost.
|
||||
|
||||
Reed and the rest of his cocladists, fellow instances forked from the original uploaded mind of Marsh, to discover what has happened and where Marsh has gone, rendering them unmoored, five unconnected instances with no root to connect them.
|
||||
|
||||
What happened, and why is Earth being so cagey?
|
||||
|
||||
**Read the summary [*here*](https://wiki.post-self.ink/wiki/Marsh/synopsis)**
|
||||
@ -7,7 +7,6 @@ type: page
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
figure, img {
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
font-size: 50%;
|
||||
display: inline-block;
|
||||
max-height: 200px;
|
||||
}
|
||||
@ -36,114 +35,134 @@ figure, img {
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
Over the course of publication and as funded by the backers of the *Mitzvot* Kickstarter, much in the way of art surrounding the Post-Self universe and its character has accrued.
|
||||
Over the course of publication and as funded by the backers of the *Mitzvot* Kickstarter, much in the way of art surrounding the Post-Self universe and its character has accrued. Special thanks is due to [Iris Jay](https://irisjay.net) who drew the first bit of Post-Self art all the way back in 2017, and then all of the covers and some of the interior art of the Post-Self cycle. Thanks as well to [Jade](https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade), who provided the template upon which so many of the Odists are based.
|
||||
|
||||
## *Qoheleth and Gallery Exhibition*
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/qoheleth-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/qoheleth-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/qoheleth-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/qoheleth-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awdae-1.png"><img src="/img/gallery/awdae-1.png" alt="Art by Cadmium Tea"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Cadmium Tea</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awdae-1.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/awdae-1.png" alt="Art by Cadmium Tea"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://www.brushandtea.com/" target="blank">Julian Norwood</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awdae-2.png"><img src="/img/gallery/awdae-2.png" alt="Art by Cadmium Tea"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Cadmium Tea</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awdae-2.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/awdae-2.png" alt="Art by Cadmium Tea"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://www.brushandtea.com/" target="blank">Julian Norwood</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dear.png"><img src="/img/gallery/dear.png" alt="Art by johnny d."/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by johnny d.</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dear.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/dear.png" alt="Art by johnny d."/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="http://dumpstercryptid.carrd.co/" target="blank">johnny d.</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/qoheleth-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/qoheleth-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/qoheleth-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/qoheleth-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
## *Toledot*
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/toledot-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/toledot-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/toledot-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/toledot-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/shove.png"><img src="/img/gallery/shove.png" alt="Art by Kris Weaver"/></a>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/shove.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/shove.png" alt="Art by Kris Weaver"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Kris Weaver</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/cairns.png"><img src="/img/gallery/cairns.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by JAIYANDT</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/cairns.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/cairns.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade" target="blank">Jade</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dandelions.png"><img src="/img/gallery/dandelions.png" alt="Art by Kris Weaver"/></a>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dandelions.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/dandelions.png" alt="Art by Kris Weaver"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Kris Weaver</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/toledot-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/toledot-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/toledot-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/toledot-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/hadje.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/hadje.png"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Fan art by <a href="https://cohost.org/Amoni-The-Sabertooth">Nat</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
## *Nevi'im*
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/neviim-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/neviim-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/neviim-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/neviim-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awnh.png"><img src="/img/gallery/awnh.png" alt="Art by johnny d."/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by johnny d.</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/awnh.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/awnh.png" alt="Art by johnny d."/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="http://dumpstercryptid.carrd.co/" target="blank">johnny d.</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/stolon.png"><img src="/img/gallery/stolon.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by JAIYANDT</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/stolon.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/stolon.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade" target="blank">Jade</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/neviim-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/neviim-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/neviim-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/neviim-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
## *Mitzvot and Selected Letters*
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/mitzvot-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/mitzvot-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/mitzvot-front.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/mitzvot-front.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/monologue.png"><img src="/img/gallery/monologue.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/monologue.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/monologue.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a class="merge" href="/img/gallery/merge.png"><img alt="Art by Iris Jay" src="/img/gallery/merge.png" /><span>Spoiler</span></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a class="merge" href="/img/gallery/merge.png"><img alt="Art by Iris Jay" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/merge.png" /><span>Spoiler</span></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/mitzvot-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/mitzvot-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/mitzvot-back.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/mitzvot-back.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/full-of-skunks.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/full-of-skunks.png"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Fan art by <a href="https://vulpine.club/@fudge_the_sphinx">Fudge</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
## Additional art
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dear-ref.png"><img src="/img/gallery/dear-ref.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by Iris Jay</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/dear-ref.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/dear-ref.png" alt="Art by Iris Jay"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://irisjay.net" target="blank">Iris Jay</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/writerskunk.png"><img src="/img/gallery/writerskunk.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by JAIYANDT</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/writerskunk.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/writerskunk.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade" target="blank">Jade</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/ref-3.png"><img src="/img/gallery/ref-3.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by JAIYANDT</figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/ref-3.png"><img src="/img/gallery/thumbs/ref-3.png" alt="Art by JAIYANDT"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade" target="blank">Jade</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a class="merge" href="/img/gallery/ref.png"><img alt="Art by JAIYANDT" src="/img/gallery/ref.png" /><span>Artistic<br>nudity</span></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by JAIYANDT</figcaption>
|
||||
<a class="merge" href="/img/gallery/ref.png"><img alt="Art by JAIYANDT" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/ref.png" /><span>Artistic<br>nudity</span></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="https://linktr.ee/cupsofjade" target="blank">Jade</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/full-of-skunks.png"><img src="/img/gallery/full-of-skunks.png"/></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Fan art by <a href="https://vulpine.club/@fudge_the_sphinx">Fudge</a></figcaption>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/lounge.png"><img alt="Art by Roxannarachnid" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/lounge.png"></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="http://cohost.org/roxannarachnid" target="blank">Roxanna</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/what_right_have_i.png"><img alt="Art by Roxannarachnid" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/what_right_have_i.png"></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="http://cohost.org/roxannarachnid" target="blank">Roxanna</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/motes.png"><img alt="Art by Roxannarachnid" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/motes.png"></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Art by <a href="http://cohost.org/roxannarachnid" target="blank">Roxanna</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
<!--<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/gallery/no_longer_myself.png"><img alt="Art by mischa" src="/img/gallery/thumbs/no_longer_myself.png"></a>
|
||||
<figcaption><a href="https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/644129">Picrew</a> by mischa</figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>-->
|
||||
|
||||
<script type="text/javascript">
|
||||
// There has to be a better way to do this with markdown :P
|
||||
|
||||
144
content/stories/_index.md
Normal file
144
content/stories/_index.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,144 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Stories
|
||||
layout: single
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
dd {
|
||||
margin-bottom: 1rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd:after {
|
||||
content: '§';
|
||||
color: #ccc;
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
width: 100%;
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd:last-of-type:after {
|
||||
display: none;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd p {
|
||||
font-size: 16pt;
|
||||
text-indent: 0;
|
||||
margin-top: 0.5rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
dd p:first-of-type {
|
||||
font-size: 18pt;
|
||||
}
|
||||
h2 {
|
||||
margin-top: 4rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
["Assignment": <small>Ioan Bălan — 2273</small>](/stories/assignment)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan Bălan, tasked with investigating a flash-cult, tries to figure out what the heck just happened.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* brief violence.
|
||||
|
||||
["Coffee Leak": <small>Tomash — 2299</small>](/stories/coffee-leak)
|
||||
: *Krzysztof "Tomash" Drewniak*
|
||||
|
||||
Not every object works quite as you expect it.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["Dreams for Breakfast": <small>In All Ways — 2183</small>](/stories/dreams-for-breakfast)
|
||||
: *Alexandria Christina Leal*
|
||||
|
||||
An unsettling dream, a conversation over breakfast.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
*Spoilers:* references to material in *Qoheleth*.
|
||||
|
||||
["Fever Dreams": <small>Hieromech — 2399</small>](/stories/fever-dreams)
|
||||
: *Ember "Hieromech" Cloke*
|
||||
|
||||
A poem written twelve hours before uploading.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* references to some of the grosser aspects of having a body.
|
||||
|
||||
["For Old Times New": <small>Sierra — 2207</small>](/stories/for-old-times-new)
|
||||
: *JL Conway*
|
||||
|
||||
From old body to new, from old life to now.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["Hues": <small>True Name — 2350</small>](/stories/hues)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
After so much trauma, True Name sees the world in new hues...
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* None
|
||||
|
||||
*Spoilers:* lots of *Mitzvot*.
|
||||
|
||||
["Meeting of One": <small>Ioan Bălan — 2309</small>](/stories/meeting-of-one)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
Quakers? In space? It's more likely than you think.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["Opportunity Paralysis": <small>Rena Hatch — 2368</small>](/stories/opportunity-paralysis)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
Uploading to transition is not at all uncommon. What you do when you get there, though, is a story you will have to live.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["The Party": <small>Scout At The Party III — 2323</small>](/stories/the-party)
|
||||
: *Krzysztof "Tomash" Drewniak*
|
||||
|
||||
The Party *never* stops. There is a dog in this one~
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["Prophecies": <small>Slow Hours — 2401</small>](/stories/prophecies)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary with No Longer Myself of [The Lament](https://cohost.org/hamratza)*
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours and If I Dream hunt down a missing cocladist, weeks after a loss.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* discussions of suicide.
|
||||
|
||||
*Spoilers:* references to the plot hook of *Marsh*.
|
||||
|
||||
["Reading": <small>Rye — 2273</small>](/stories/reading)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
All readings are the same, as Dear The Wheat And Rye Under The Stars well knows...
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
|
||||
["Scan": <small><em>(no date info)</em></small>](/stories/scan)
|
||||
: *Voksa*
|
||||
|
||||
*Scratch* — Something's gone wrong...
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* surgery, mild body horror.
|
||||
|
||||
["Shared Moment": <small>Ioan Bălan — 2326</small>](/stories/shared-moment)
|
||||
: *Madison Scott-Clary*
|
||||
|
||||
An exploration of the sensuality of sensorium play between skunks and Bălans.
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* vague description of sex.
|
||||
|
||||
[*Unintended Tendencies*](https://jessfluf.itch.io/unintended-tendencies) — <small><em>available on Itch.io</em></small>
|
||||
: *JL Conway*
|
||||
|
||||
This is the story of one soul, shortly after upload to a vast digital world, exploring themself and their identity. Checking the boundaries of who and what they are, peeling back the layers of gender, self, and species. All the while discovering the fractures that lay beneath along with the trauma carried from the years before upload as they grapple with their own life, past, and future in the unlimited world of the System.
|
||||
|
||||
Available to download on Itch.io, name your own price — help support writers in our community!
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* transphobia; PTSD and visceral descriptions of panic.
|
||||
|
||||
["Wrigglings Toward": <small>May Then My Name — 2324</small>](/stories/wrigglings-toward)
|
||||
: *True Name of [The Lament](https://cohost.org/hamratza)*
|
||||
|
||||
There was no dearth of proxmity with Ioan, but still there was a lack...
|
||||
|
||||
*CWs:* none.
|
||||
290
content/stories/a-well-trained-eye.md
Normal file
290
content/stories/a-well-trained-eye.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,290 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: A Well-Trained Eye
|
||||
author: Andréa C. Mason
|
||||
character: Lucia Marchetti — 2401
|
||||
cw: Plain discussions of death and murder
|
||||
spoiler: "*Marsh:* medium"
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
The rain against old glass panes and the sways and bumps of the car on the rails ready the air for conjurations. Lucy sits on the bench 6th from the back, on the right side, a sketchbook open across her knees. Today she's trying charcoal. Feels right with what happened a week ago.
|
||||
|
||||
This lonely train through the valley and the mountain is her chapel and now her hermitage in the wake of the bombing. There are plenty of churches and other religious retreats across the System if she wanted, but none of them have ever felt a fit for this work. She thought about skipping this week, and told herself if the train wasn't running, she'd pick up again later, but even with no passengers save her, the engine pulls its empty tail along the countryside. So, as she has done every week for the past 250 years, she has gone to her locker in the station, pulled out a fresh sketchbook, and boarded.
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy conjures in her memory their faces.
|
||||
|
||||
She can only recall 63 of the 68. It is true that the System means she cannot forget anything now, but it merely preserves in amber what the memory held at the moment of upload. It cannot restore the faces she lost to time. Even a number of the faces she recalls are not complete memories. Those she has filled in over decades, extrapolating or iterating on them until they are whole enough for her to feel it completes them. Over 260 years, her hands have become capable of incredible art, both through endless repetition and boundless study. When she is not here in her railcar-sized confession booth, she enjoys a life as an artist, known for bittersweet paintings and sculptures, happy to teach and happier to learn, a lover of life and a bringer of joy.
|
||||
|
||||
Of the five lost, two faces she cannot recall because they were unexpected complications on a job. One face was sent to kill her, but wasn't good enough. One face jumped her in an alley to rob her, or perhaps worse, but couldn't have picked a worse target. She doesn't recall her first kill's face, because there was a bag over his head and a gun loaded with both bullets and an irreversible choice was pushed into her hand.
|
||||
|
||||
The 69th face is the most vivid to her, but Lucy has never felt the need to draw her. After all, she let that last one go, and every morning after she wakes, Lucia Marchetti hopes that poor girl listened to her and got far far away. She hopes that woman lived a full life and that the family never caught up.
|
||||
|
||||
The clack-clack of the wheels on the track sets a rhythm for her vigil, her penance. The weather in the sim varies based on algorithms and set patterns both, stable enough to make maintenance easy, unpredictable enough to mimic weather phys-side. Today the rain is quite heavy. She welcomes it. The inside is dry, but the wood of the train car has a slight moist smell, a beautiful attention to detail. The lights in the car flicker a little more than usual, the train is a bit slower than usual but the ride is if anything less smooth. She likes the rougher rides, because it adds a challenge to her work, one she is well accustomed to after centuries but nonetheless welcomes. The rain fills in the silence where passengers would chat and shuffle and cough and rustle newspapers and make all those sounds living people make. She wonders how many of the usual riders died in the bomb, and how many are just afraid to go out, unsure, mourning, or just needing time alone.
|
||||
|
||||
Some art critics and fans throughout the System have pointed out that the left eyes in many of her portraits have fantastical details, often drawn as flowers, or the root of vines, or sunsets woven into faces, or in her sculptures become caves, grottos, tidal pools, library alcoves, hidden urban alleys. Many speculate on the symbolism of that, and her favorite theory is the one that she lost an eye to cancer, and her obsession with art and color is due to the way cancer distorted her vision, and that her art was a reclamation of what it had taken from her, a final spite to the disease that forced her to upload. Even though it was wrong it was very romantic, and even now she did very little to fight it, and on occasion coyly encouraged it.
|
||||
|
||||
A bullet through the left eye had been her professional calling card. Left hand on the top of the head, barrel of the silencer to the eyelid. She had taken so much from the world through left eyes, and she put back as much life and beauty through them now as she could. It would never be enough. More than a few of the faces she could only conjure with the bloody hole in a lifeless head, but she has never rendered it in sketches. She recreates and restores them as they were before, using decades of study to fill in what she destroyed. Even as styles and methods and tools change in her hands, she gives the dead that. Owes them that. The only real Liberty she takes is with the hair above the faces, refusing to give hair any semblance of being pushed or held down by anything.
|
||||
|
||||
The piece of charcoal snaps in her hand, and she realizes there are tears staining the current sketch. She wipes her eyes, takes another piece of charcoal from her satchel.
|
||||
|
||||
The bomb dwells on her mind. The Century Bomb, detonated at midnight, the start of the 25th century. 2400-01-01. 276+1 systime. In a digital world so removed from death, suddenly a toll on an incomprehensible level. Mechanically, it was a contraproprioceptive virus, launched at an astounding scale, wiping 1% of the System's current instance total by interrupting their code irreversibly. Functionally, it was a bomb that killed billions and scared shitless a trillion more. She wonders why they did it. She doesn't want to know, but she wonders. She wonders if it was just a job. She wonders if it wasn't. She wonders if they can remember all the faces of the people they killed. She wonders if they died in the bomb themselves. She hopes they did. She snaps another piece of charcoal, but if there were tears, they burned off on the heat in her face. It takes several breaths to unclench her fist, and she grabs another piece of charcoal.
|
||||
|
||||
This is the longest stretch of the track. It's between the third and fourth stops, and it's where she starts sketching every time. Some weeks, depending on her mood or free time, she waits for the train to finish looping through the five stops and the station before picking up in her usual place. This time she doesn’t wait. The calm she needs comes as soon as the engine lurches into motion from the station, and she lets the sounds and motions balm her weary heart.
|
||||
|
||||
Charcoal means no color, but it lets her play with shading techniques. The more recent the face, the more realistic it becomes on the page, whereas older faces come out impressionistic, sketchier, or strikingly simple. Once she did them in chronological order. Then by age, alphabetical by first name, then last, then by height or by estimated weight, by location, by time it took to complete that dirty work, until now she's run out of categories and just lets them queue their own order, double checking periodically who is left and who isn't.
|
||||
|
||||
She feels a low impulse to include some of the regular passengers who are missing today, but cannot bring herself to break 250 years of rite and ritual. She decides tomorrow she will come back with separate sketchbooks or maybe some other medium, sit in a different place on the train, and sketch as many of the regulars as she can remember. Those she will not keep hidden away, and those she will let her sys-side self take care of.
|
||||
|
||||
Most people would send a separate fork for this, she figures. She always leaves a fork at her home sim, and when she gets back to the studio that fork will merge down to her. It is important to her that this continuous (as much as one can be here) version of herself be the penitent one. She thinks other people would understand that, it's not something that really needs explaining, but she has never told anyone directly what she does, and those who know about her train rides know better than to ask.
|
||||
|
||||
She wonders how many of them survived, and how many of them died or quit. She wonders how many will quit or crash from the grief. She chides herself for getting distracted. She sketches.
|
||||
|
||||
She long ago learned the art of faking motions. She trained herself to glance up and stare at random points in the room, usually where other passengers are, to give the illusion she is not doing this from memory. It is a performance for the comfort of others, and the comfortable ask less questions. She almost always got left alone anyway. She wonders how she must look from the outside. Short, black hair, in a layered bob that tapers into her neck, pale skin, wispy and thin. Her outfit for the train is always the same, a plain, thin white blouse with short sleeves and dark blue buttons down the middle, a pair of dark blue slacks with a very high waist, a tasteful pair of flats, tented teal triangles for earrings. The train is based on its early middle twentieth century ancestors, and she commits fully to the part as well. She never asks anyone if she pulls it off, or asks for a picture.
|
||||
|
||||
It takes her a while to notice there is someone else in the railcar with her.
|
||||
|
||||
One of those upward glancing motions registers some bright color on her left, but it takes four more motions before it actually clicks that it's an arm in a jacket. She stops mid-sketch and turns to the other passenger.
|
||||
|
||||
Across the aisle from her seat is a bench against the left wall of the train, and despite years of riding she cannot say for sure if the bench was always present or a new addition. Other than that it does not stand out, as all the upholstery, cushions, wood, metal, and design choices fit perfectly with the rest of the compartment. It might have been there the whole time. It might have appeared there seconds ago. It alarms her how little her memory has charted the left side of the aisle.
|
||||
|
||||
The other passenger is a woman who is also a skunk. She is tall, broad-shouldered, portly, covered in earthy green fur, with a mess of curly hair that is swept to the side and bleached blond. She wears an orange canvas bomber jacket, a beat up white tank top, grayish cargo pants, and heavy boots. Her arms are spread out on the back of the bench. One of her legs is crossed over the other, bouncing on it. She is grinning. Something about the fur pattern near the skunk's left eye unsettles Lucy, but it is obscured by the dark round sunglasses the skunk is wearing. How the skunk's tail seems to be at an impossible angle to her body while sitting down Lucy chalks up to the benefits of the System.
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's grin widens when her presence is acknowledged. Lucy looks at her but lets the other woman make the first move. The skunk gladly obliges. "You know, it took me longer than I'd like to admit to realize you haven't been drawing other passengers."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy chews her tongue before responding, turning back to her work but not letting the stranger from her sight. "Who's to say I wasn't before?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk shrugs. "It's possible, but I've seen you here every week for decades. It didn't click until about 6 years ago that the styles change but the faces don't."
|
||||
|
||||
A regular, then. There are other cars, and Lucia only rides the train once a week. So many different bodies and species exist within the System, and with the weird prevalence of skunks among that, not recalling this one's face didn't feel too strange. Old instincts warn her that her visitor could be banking on that, but she dismisses it with a stroke on the page.
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy sighs. "Well noticed. What else have you observed?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk tilts her head and chews her tongue a little, tapping a claw. "More a hunch than an observation, but you don't draw the living."
|
||||
|
||||
"Correct again. Not here, anyway. Elsewhere I do not restrain myself so."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk gives a bobbing nod. "People you lost?"
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia speaks plainly. "People I killed."
|
||||
|
||||
The test is laid. How will the examinee respond? Fear? Nervous laughter? Anger?
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk raises an eyebrow. "Appearances can be deceiving, but you don't strike me as a soldier."
|
||||
|
||||
"Metaphorically, maybe, but never literally."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's claws tighten into the wood of the bench at either end of her arms. "Not a cop, I hope?"
|
||||
|
||||
Now there's a measure of character. Lucia genuinely laughs, and the skunk's grips relax. There's that bobbing nod again, and the mephit says, "So, ah, contract work."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy cannot decide if the animal's cavalier nature is charming or cause for alarm. Her heart wants to believe the former. A gut trained on a former life tells her the latter. Both are anxious to see how this plays out. "I would call it familial obligations, but they did pay me for it, and friends of the family would throw me work now and again as well." She pauses. "You know how family can be."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk gives a sad smirk. "Half of mine disowned me for being queer. Don't think it's quite the same but I can sympathize, at least."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy stops sketching for a second, and makes eye contact with the skunk, or as best she can through the other's sunglasses. Even without the eyes, there's a topography of emotion in the snout and cheeks and brow. That pattern of fur around her left eye, it's rough. Aesthetically it interrupts the face. An interesting choice. Panic surges just a little again.
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia blinks and shakes her head, turning back to her sketch. "Well, good thing we both got out."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk looks out the window behind her. "And yet the past never stops trailing behind us here. It's like this train, never moving forward, on an endless loop that carries us in circles. Even if we step off at a stop, it will be back around to pick us up again."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy sees no reason to add anything.
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk turns back towards her. "These pieces you do fascinate me. They all lack your signature."
|
||||
|
||||
"What need to autograph them? They are for me and the dead. Other than the prying eyes of those like you who see my process, they are never shared."
|
||||
|
||||
"That is not the signature I mean."
|
||||
|
||||
She tenses. "Ah, a stylistic one, then. Do you mean to say I am an artist beyond these sketches? Who do you think I might be?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I know exactly who you are."
|
||||
|
||||
Everything goes quiet and the light dims. Somewhere in the conversation Lucy missed the whistle for the tunnel, and as the trains slips into the darkness the driving rain no longer fills silence. Even the wheel-clacks sound quieter. The bulbs along either side of the car have dimmed, and the one on the skunk's right has gone out completely. The skunk has taken off her sunglasses, and is wiping the lenses in the cotton of her tank top.
|
||||
|
||||
It is not a pattern in her fur, Lucia realizes. It is a scar. A scar that starts north of the brow, runs most of the way down her cheek, and in the middle, crosses her eye. The left eye itself is clouded over, with only a hint of the pupil beneath. The other eye is a striking hazel, untouched.
|
||||
|
||||
A million possibilities run through Lucia's head. This is someone here to blackmail her. The family finally sent an assassin. Somehow one of her targets survived and has found her for revenge. The System isn't real, and this is Purgatory, or worse, Hell, luring her into a false sense of security to strengthen her damnation. All of these could be true at once. She does not know. She finds she cannot quit, or leave the sim, or even move, paralyzed in pure fear, an emotion she has not felt in centuries.
|
||||
|
||||
Meanwhile, the skunk is saying, "You are Lucia Marchetti, renowned artist and sculptor. One of the most distinct in the System, in fact, and if I'm not mistaken, the unintentional pioneer of three major art movements of the last two centuries. Most intriguing is your lasting fixation on the left eye, present on almost every one of your pieces with a living thing in it. There's a lot of theories, but no one really knows why you do it. Except I think I do."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy resigns herself. 260 years was a good run. More than any of her targets got sometimes by a factor of ten. She should have trusted her gut and bailed. She should have run. She shouldn't have said so much. But she did, and she tries to make peace with having to face the music. It's not really working, but she still cannot bring herself to flee. They say that no one can force you to stay in a sim, that it is impossible to truly hold anyone anywhere in the System against their will, but none of them ever account for the pressure one can exert on oneself. So, if this is the end, she decides, even if she cannot accept it, she will not fight it. "You're here to kill me, aren't you?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk laughs. "Kill you? Why would I want to kill you?" She holds her sunglasses up towards one of the light fixtures, checking the lens for smudges. "You might be the only person on the System who understands me."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia has the brief vivid image in her mind of an engraved lighter and a carousel tearing itself apart. The skunk across from her must be some sort of fanatic, perhaps another professional killer, or worse, unprofessional. Someone unmoored from reality, perhaps. Madness is more prevalent in the System than anyone admits. Lucy decides she would have preferred if this stranger was here to kill her, then chides herself for this self-destructiveness.
|
||||
|
||||
Still the skunk speaks, and taps next to her damaged eye. "For most of my life phys-side, I would now and again come down with migraines that always started behind my eye. Most of them were mild, but some of them would put me down for a whole day. Once or twice I even had visual aberrations, and I couldn't even see out of it. It'd be like static, visual white noise. For some reason, after I forked off my root instance, I started having the migraines again sys-side. The pressure is there, and the hurt is sometimes there, but now I hallucinate. Vividly, and only through that eye. My right eye is locked on reality, and the left eye ranges from minor distortions to things that even our more adventurous chemical days never came close to. I've never met anyone else that gets migraines here like mine. But then, I see your work, and I finally think for a second that maybe I'm not alone."
|
||||
|
||||
"I'm not totally convinced you are not here to kill me."
|
||||
|
||||
The mephit shakes her head. "I swear I'm not. I mean, you've been here—the System, I should say—for a long time?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Centuries."
|
||||
|
||||
"When did you upload?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Why should I tell you?"
|
||||
|
||||
"So I can prove I'm not sent by your 'family'. Just want to know the year."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia mulls it over before saying it. "2140."
|
||||
|
||||
"Which was 31 years before my root instance was even born."
|
||||
|
||||
"Doesn't mean that you aren't—"
|
||||
|
||||
"You have to believe me! You have to, and you have to experience something like I do. It has to be the reason!" The skunk's face is a patchwork of frustration and desperate need.
|
||||
|
||||
"I never in my life before this place or after had a single headache."
|
||||
|
||||
The stranger is on the verge of tears. "Then why?"
|
||||
|
||||
"It's where I put the bullets."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's eyes go wide, and the rain slams against the rail car as the train leaves the tunnel again.
|
||||
|
||||
For the first time in all her years of penance, Lucia wishes she could stop drawing these faces, and instead in this moment sketch the creature across from her. The surprise in the mephit's features decays, like a flashbulb in a camera after it's gone off in those ancient movies the Don loved to watch. Lucy wants to capture this moment as hope withers and understanding winds vines slowly into the visage of the woman. She can see her piece together what that means, why these faces must never bear that mark, a million questions banished to the aether with one simple, ugly, answer. It is Lucia's opinion that art is better left unexplained, and this is why. If it weren't for the storm outside she would have heard the poor thing's heart break. There is a biting of a lip, there are tears, there is a bobbing nod of understanding, and a single, deep sob. If she could raise a hand, a brush, a chisel, these minutes would turn into her finest work, she would capture the death of a hero as seen through a mirror. She mourns it as the emotions pass, as the traces of them evaporate off the skunk's muzzle like morning mist in the sun. To capture what she saw in the moment would be a blasphemous vanity. She tears herself away from staring, and continues her sketches.
|
||||
|
||||
It is a while before either can speak. The skunk speaks first. "I think knowing that, somehow, makes your art…more beautiful to me?"
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy snorts. "That's unfortunate."
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you regret it?"
|
||||
|
||||
She rolls her eyes at this. "No, I have sat on this train every week for 250 years drawing the dead because I have nothing better to do. What a stupid question."
|
||||
|
||||
"Did you upload because you got tired of killing?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I uploaded because I was tired of being a man." She looks up to see that the skunk has put back on her sunglasses, but they cannot hide her surprise again. Lucia sets down the notebook and the charcoal on the seat next to herself. "The family gave me an address and a man's name. They did not tell me what he had done, usually they did not, but they spoke with such vitriol I assumed his trespasses were high. The family back then overlooked my dalliances with other men, as men were easy to pay off, and I suspect I was not the only one in the family 'wandering from the path' in that way. Something about the venom in the request made me wonder if someone in the family had been spurned, and I was cleaning up loose ends. No matter. I had given up long ago on caring about my targets. A job is a job, and the family always found me work.
|
||||
|
||||
"I broke into the apartment, and in the dim light of the living room was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She was like polished stone, you could tell she was made more beautiful by the things she endured. It took me a moment to remember what I was even there for, and I wondered again if this wasn't business but personal affairs. She noticed me, and panicked, pulling a blanket to herself even though she was clothed. I did not yell, I did not shout, I did not strike in my work. I used a level voice, moved calmly and deliberately, and made no sudden movements. People feared that more than an angry man, and it meant there was a lot less cleanup involved. I did not hide that I had a gun. She asked me who I was, and I said I was strictly here on business, and she didn't need to know. She said she didn't trust me, and I told her very simply that if I intended to hurt I would not have waited for her to see me. I told her that all she needed to do was answer me a question, and then she could leave safely. As a show of faith, I stepped out from between her and the door. She weighed her options. She was taller than me, a bit stockier, but I was a man with a gun in my hands. She relented, and with a sigh told me to ask. I told her all I needed to know was where I could find my target. I told her the name.
|
||||
|
||||
"Perhaps you are smart enough to know where this is going, but I mistook her panic for loyalty. She became defensive, refusing to give any information and demanding of me explanations. I told her she need not be loyal to him again and again, that it was not worth her life to defend him, and that all I needed to know is where he was. She offered bribes. She offered violence. She offered a great many things I dare not say. I do not know how long our exchange went exactly. Easily 15 minutes, likely more. I grew impatient and finally asked her why his life was worth so much more than hers, and that regardless of what happened to her I had a job and that man had to die.
|
||||
|
||||
"She wailed, falling to the floor, and told me with absolute despair that she was the man I was looking for. Only then do I begin to inspect my surroundings carefully. I take notice of the decorations, the aesthetic choices, the recurring theme of rebirth. There was a jacket, hung on the back of a dining table chair, with a flag on the shoulder, a flag of stripes and three colors. Such a jacket was not uncommon among younger generations of my country, but the flag was not the flag of Italia of old, nor any of the new flags of the many states my homeland became under the Western Federation. No, this flag is the standard of a country with no land, abstract territory, yet one I—and, I highly suspect, you as well—reside within. Three colors, yes, but the stripes of the flag are horizontal, not vertical. Five stripes, not three.
|
||||
|
||||
"No doubt you have heard the tales of old about those Lost in the sims, in the days before the System. In that moment, like them, I became lost within myself. I was not old then, but I had lived a very long life. I tumbled down through memories, emotions, places, times, lovers, imaginations. This woman before me, born something else, but made beautiful by change, was she as me? Pulled unwilling into the affairs of the family? Forced into shapes preordained, melted down and poured into a mold, cracked upon the altar of tradition, to fit needs or to ornament the mansion walls? Did she break the mold, or melt again to make herself anew? Could I do the same? My lovers were all overlooked or bought off, but in the eyes of those who shaped me, I was property who could buy a place at the table in time but never my own freedom. This Angel before me was an epiphany, and to the gospel of my employers I fell apostate in a moment. In my head and only in my head I begged mercy and forgiveness from her, that I might forever fall to her feet and serve to atone for my trespasses. She was living proof that my resignation to my fate was an act of cowardice, that for years I had been lying to myself. A thousand versions of myself in my head ran to every corner of my mind and pulled together a new self, an eternity of hands falling over themselves to construct some possible way to let this woman go without getting both her and myself killed. No markers lay for how long I was lost in my head, and when I pulled back to the reality before me, I have no idea if I had been gone a second or an hour. The woman before me still wept. I made up my mind. It was made from the moment I saw her jacket.
|
||||
|
||||
"I told her to look at me. She did. I told her the man I had come to kill was clearly already dead. She stared at me for a long time. I asked her if her identifications had her old name or her new one on them, and when she said new I cemented a plan. I told her I had no intention of killing her, but that I could not promise the same of my employers. I set my gun on the table. I sorted out for her an impressive sum of money that I kept on my person, as even as late as the 2130s hard currency opened far more doors than brute force. I knelt down beside her on the floor. I pressed into her hands a marker, something that would grant her safe passage anywhere she showed it, an agreement of families and organizations that preceded us by centuries. I told her where to go, what places my family would never tread, and what she needed to say to get there. I told her to wait 20 minutes after I left, pack as little as she could, and leave immediately. She sat there stunned, and only as I got to the door did it grip her that this was real.
|
||||
|
||||
"She asked me why I was helping her. I could not lie. I told her that killing her would make her a man again and I could not stand to take such beauty from the world. Manhood is not a problem if it is choice, but I was never given one, and I would not force anyone to reconsider their own decision. I do not know if she understood me, but she nodded. As I departed, she asked if she would see me again. I told her no, I was already as dead as the man I had been sent to kill, and left before she could delay me further.
|
||||
|
||||
"I do not know what happened to her. I don't know what happened to the family. I do not know what happened to the cats left in my apartment. I do not even know if the sun set the next night. I moved quickly, using the weight my name had gathered over the years to get me quick passage to Roma. Uploading was still new then, expensive and still a mystery to most, but Roma had an Ansible clinic. I arrived in the city just before dawn, and caught the staff as they arrived for the morning. I drained my accounts and gave them each enough to fund the clinic for a year, to upload me and to strike my name from any records. They asked me what to do with my body. I told them to burn it and toss the ashes into the Tiber. When they objected, I handed them even more money, and finally they gave way."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia looks up, and out over the countryside rolling by the windows of the train car. How far, she wonders, does it go? Does it end a small ways from the train? Are the mountains on the other side of this valley merely a trick of sensoria? Or has someone rendered them, crafting the walls of stone as they rise from low earth, etching little runs and outcroppings for a thousand meters upward? Does the sim stretch beyond the mountains, an uncanny mirror of the alps that she had traveled phys-side often enough, mostly for business, only very rarely for pleasure? She knows most of the stops are fleshed out, but she has no idea if all the land in between them is. She briefly sees the faint orange reflection of the skunk's jacket in the window, and tries not to think about how long she might have been silent.
|
||||
|
||||
Still, as she speaks, it is a few moments before she turns back to the other passenger. "There is nothing more to tell. The killer for hire died on the Ansible table. I do not miss him. I mourn those whom he took from the world. I carry them on eternally here, as I have since the first day I ever rode this train."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk smirks. "I wonder if the riders know they're in your rolling mausoleum."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia frowns. "It is not a mausoleum!"
|
||||
|
||||
The mephit's lip twitches. "Right, my mistake, if it doesn't contain any remains, it's called a cenotaph, isn't it?"
|
||||
|
||||
The frown turns to a scowl. "That is not what I mean."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk leans forward, resting her forearms upon her thighs. "A confessional, then. Do you say your 'hail marys' as we ride along these chancel rails? Quite a trick to use a train to transit the stations of the cross, but with only 6 stops instead of 14, you may find us lacking."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia turns to her, meaning to scald the other woman with a glare. "Do not mock me. Those traditions were antiquated before I was born, much less you. I ask nothing of a god I do not believe in. So too the dead are the dead, they feel nothing. Hear nothing. Give nothing. I do this for myself, I grieve. I regret. From what authority do you speak? What right have you to judge?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk raises her paws in defense. "I'm not judging."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia bares her teeth. "The hell you are not. You speak harshly, think me a sinner."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk crosses her arms before herself. "Listen, I am not in the business of *salvation* or *absolution*."
|
||||
|
||||
"Then what, pray tell, are you in the business of?"
|
||||
|
||||
The other woman furrows her brow, and leans back. Then, slowly, smugly, she grins. "*Joie de vivre*."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia finds herself genuinely unsure how to respond to that, so she doesn't. On she sketches, ignoring her spectator as best she can. A stop comes and goes, the fourth, and neither debark. No one gets on either. Riders. A thread lies untraced in Lucy's mind. She pulls it.
|
||||
|
||||
To the skunk she says, "You asked earlier if the riders know what I do, as if you did not number among them."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's face isn't just grinning, there's some anticipation around the edges of it. This stranger has been waiting for this question. "Not usually, no, not by a traditional count."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia squints. "Yet you said before the tunnel that you have observed me here for decades."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk looks up, and taps a cheeky claw to her chin. "Yeah, weird, I wonder how that could be?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you spy on the passengers?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk tilts her head disappointedly, and lets the silence answer for her.
|
||||
|
||||
"Neither then, some small animal, like a mouse or an insect living on the train."
|
||||
|
||||
A shake of a head. "Construct or instance, I'd consider them passengers, too."
|
||||
|
||||
"And you observed me directly, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
"This is a fun game! Yes, I have countless times."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy doesn't like this game. She hates the feeling of missing something simple. Perhaps it isn't simple. "You…you are the train we are riding in, and you have watched me all these years, and forked to something that could speak to me."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk laughs, and slaps her knees. Lucia turns red, scowling. Wiping humorous tears from her eyes, the skunk says, "I love artists so much. Creative! Very creative, but a few problems. One: I was born after you uploaded. Two: I only forked and individuated from my root instance in 2357, and Three: the System is capable of many incredible things, but that's a little too fantastic." The skunk gave a little head bob. " I guess in a metaphorical way you could say I speak for the train, but no, I'm afraid as long as I've been around in this sim, I've just been a skunk."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy looks out the window, and says aloud, "I do not like this game."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk laughs again. "I'm having a blast. Do you want me to tell you?"
|
||||
|
||||
The artist glances back only briefly, and shakes her head.
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you want me to give you a hint?"
|
||||
|
||||
Now Lucia turns to look at her, and when the skunk raises an eyebrow, she relents. "Fine. Fine! Yes!"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk slips her left paw into her jacket pocket. "Your hint is: rider and passenger are passive roles."
|
||||
|
||||
Passive? If riding a train is a passive state, what would be an active—
|
||||
|
||||
Lucy nearly throws her sketches to the floor, gesticulating angrily. "You are the engineer. You drive the train."
|
||||
|
||||
"Correct!" The mephit holds up three clawed fingers on her right paw. "Beyond maintaining the sim, I wear three hats. One is engineer. The second is stationmaster. But neither of those explain seeing you in this car, do they?"
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia's turn to raise an eyebrow. The skunk pulls her left paw from her jacket pocket, and holds up a ticket puncher. Lucia buries her face in her hands. "Conductor. And now I am the asshole for not even remembering you."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk scoffs. "I'm not hurt! Think of it this way, you and this sim have been here for 250 years. I've only been 'on board' for about 35. I dug through our personnel records recently, and there have been well over 100 conductors, never mind several active at the same time. You've been focused on your work, faces change, and at some point you stopped paying attention to who was coming around to check for fares. Hell, I've met other regulars in other sims who don't recognize me right away. Same goes for the 15 years I've been stationmaster, and have you ever actually been to the engine? Did you realize it has to be crewed? I'm proud of my work whether it gets seen or not, but often it isn't."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia finally finds the other end of the thread. "Do you own this sim?"
|
||||
|
||||
The smile fades from the skunk's face. "As of a week ago, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
"Was it the Century At—"
|
||||
|
||||
"Mr. Nguyen had been planning to retire for some time. He'd given full access controls and permissions of the Sim to me a few months back, and after 275 years, he planned to retire at midnight, right as the century rolled over." The furred woman bit her lip and looked away. "I…I don't know if he died in the Attack. The way he was cleaning up his affairs by the end he might have quit the big one. Either way, he's gone."
|
||||
|
||||
A grief settles into Lucia. She realizes she does not know the attendants of this sacred place. If it is half as intricate and complex as she thinks, this sim takes a great amount of work and dedication to keep running. The System's curse of eternal memory meant nothing if she did not bother to take notice of someone in the first place. Dozens of faces. Hundreds, likely. On top of this, layered like a dusting of ash or snow, is the suspicion that now this skunk and whatever forks of her there may be are the only ones left. Both the skunk and Lucia herself were lucky. How many sims now sit empty, with no owner? How many empty homes and shops and cities and wildernesses and worlds wait for occupants, like pets who do not yet know the loss of their caretakers, or worse, cannot understand it? Does the System reclaim them? Should it? Should they stand as cenotaphs, markers of a terrible loss few people can yet truly wrap their heads around? Or like a home in a vibrant neighborhood, should the next inhabitants move in, so that life can go on for the living? She doesn't know. Answers are beyond her, she is the rain that falls from the sky and her eyes in equal measure. She rolls off of resolution or closure, like droplets off the panes of the glass of the traincar.
|
||||
|
||||
Her tears soak into the paper of her sketchbook, and that tugs her to reality again. She cannot change the past, but she can change the present, the future. She wipes the water from her eyes hastily. "I did not know his name. Nor yours, though you clearly know mine."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk straightens up a little. "My name is Seras. Seras Frame."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia nods. "Seras. I will remember it."
|
||||
|
||||
Seras shrugs. "You can't forget it."
|
||||
|
||||
Lucia says, "language is an art, not a science. When we say forget and remember, they can mean many things. I will say your name, Seras. I will speak it aloud and address you and not take you for granted again."
|
||||
|
||||
The train begins to slow as it reaches the fifth stop. Seras looks out the window, then back to Lucia. "I'll be getting off here, but before I do…" her voice trails off, and she holds up the ticket puncher, clacking it a few times. Lucia smiles. She pulls the ticket from her pocket, as she has every week for hundreds of years.
|
||||
|
||||
Seras stands up and takes it, looking it over. "Honestly, I was worried we'd lost all our riders. It's hard to say who's just too overwhelmed to show up, and who's gone. If you're here, I'm sure I'll see other old faces soon enough." She punches the ticket, and pauses. "Have you killed anyone since uploading?"
|
||||
|
||||
The train comes to a stop, and something deep inside Lucia tenses. She snaps at the skunk. "Why? Worried I'm going to start up again?"
|
||||
|
||||
Seras rolls her eyes, and hands Lucia back her ticket brusquely. "Just curious."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk walks away swiftly, headed for the back of the car. She's just about to leave when Lucy finds her voice again. "I didn't even know you could kill someone here until the bomb went off."
|
||||
|
||||
Seras stops dead in her tracks, but doesn't turn around. Lucy keeps talking.
|
||||
|
||||
"I heard rumors of people being assassinated, but I never looked into it. How could you kill someone in a world like this? It all stunk of conspiracy, and you know how people are here. I thought I finally found a world without violence, and for a time I had such a world. Then the bomb devours billions, like an earthquake rending the ground into a maw of Hell. I am brought so close to the jaws of death I remember why I was glad to leave that world behind." Lucy feels like a child, small, afraid. Even after transitioning it is a feeling she has rarely felt, and her usual guard falls away. Words tumble from her before she can stop them. "And I do think this is confessional. I do my penance in this public place, an anonymous sinner, because it must not be done alone. I apologize for my hostility. I do not like to be so plainly and nakedly seen by a stranger, and you frightened me like I haven't been since the Ansible table."
|
||||
|
||||
Seras turns. The two women watch each other for a while. Lucia speaks first.
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you think I've done enough? Held this Vigil for enough lifetimes? Should I keep going?"
|
||||
|
||||
The train's whistle blows. Seras shakes her head. "I told you before. I'm not in the business of Absolution or Salvation." She walks to the back door. As the railcars start to lurch into motion, she adds, "I'm just happy to see someone's still riding the train."
|
||||
|
||||
Then she's gone, and Lucia pushes herself over a few seats to the window. She sees the skunk laughing and pulling the back of her jacket over her head. As the train pulls away, she's stomping her boots through the puddles on the platform as she runs for the shelter of an awning.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
@ -1,14 +1,16 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Assignment
|
||||
author: Madison Scott-Clary
|
||||
character: Ioan Bălan — 2273
|
||||
cw: Brief violence
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Ioan Bălan --- 2273
|
||||
|
||||
The sensation of an instance merging state back with em would never *not* make Ioan Bălan#tracker uneasy. It wasn't the differences in experiences, those were to be anticipated, so much as the tiny changes in identity that resulted. Having to internalize a slightly different version of yourself was too close to experiencing a doppelgänger, something so alike and yet with subtle shifts in worldview.
|
||||
|
||||
Or perhaps hanging with a sib, fresh home from a semester abroad.
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan#tracker had never been abroad, had no siblings. Just new memories.
|
||||
Ioan#tracker had never been abroad, had only ever lived with eir brother. Just new memories.
|
||||
|
||||
And yet there was the merge request, waiting. Ey set aside eir work --- a simple bit of nothing for a news organization that really didn't matter but nonetheless offered some reputation --- and sat back to deal with the squirming, greasy feeling of the merger.
|
||||
|
||||
148
content/stories/coffee-leak.md
Normal file
148
content/stories/coffee-leak.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,148 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Coffee Leak
|
||||
author: 'Krzysztof “Tomash” Drewniak'
|
||||
character: Tomash — 2299
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
There were places in the System that the newly-uploaded tended to wander into, thanks to the self-reinforcing nature of “X Best Sims To Check Out When You’re New” articles and the finite set of recommendations the default tutorial constructs drew from.
|
||||
|
||||
This led to the System Emergency Response Group doing their collective best to have someone hovering around the newbie hotspots. They weren’t necessarily full perisystem technicians, with all the rights and privileges etc etc, but could talk people through fixing “Help, I forked weird!” or “Help, everything’s black and white!” or the like, and someone really new might not know they could call SERG or think to do it.
|
||||
|
||||
Currently, Tomash was watching the Alley Cat. He’d taken a small table near the middle of the indoor seating and had draped his vest — the token he put on to activate his systech powers — over the back of the chair. He alternated between reading a book (the report on a gravity shatter incident from six months back) and munching on a croissant. This wasn’t one of his usual haunts, as he still wasn’t much of a coffee person, but he’d offered to take the watch over because he didn’t have a lot of other plans that evening.
|
||||
|
||||
It was a nice, quiet day. The conversation around Tomash was a low buzz of noise. Suddenly, his ears twitched towards a loud crack, followed by the hiss of steam. Then, a scream.
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash’s gaze followed his ears. With a thought, his vest undraped itself from his chair and put itself on, its side buckles closing automagically. The world began to shimmer, each object before him hinting at the existence of debugging information hiding just below the surface if he needed it.
|
||||
|
||||
He dropped the report he was reading, not bothering to dematerialize or close it, and hurried towards the noises. “Make stasis sim,” he muttered before he even fully registered what he was looking at — a coffee mug that was making pressure-cooker noises and had some sort of barrier over its top. That barrier was meant to be invisible, but it still had the faint glow of a physics-altering area to his tech’s sight.
|
||||
|
||||
He pointed at the mug. “Move to Tech Stasis#4f552c06,” he commanded it, and it did so.
|
||||
|
||||
With the immediate problem out of the way, Tomash took a look at the man who’d been sitting at the table. That arm didn’t look good. The rest of the man seemed fine, though. He looked older than most on the System, with his white hair that didn’t see a lot of intentional grooming, and clothes that felt thrown together with little care for style. A very professor-y look.
|
||||
|
||||
The man — Dr. Diego Rodriguez, the System informed Tomash — was staring at him. He’d only uploaded a few hours ago, so it wasn’t surprising that a bipedal dog who’d just made his coffee disappear would throw him off. Especially if said dog had a black vest, meant to emulate a working dog’s harness, that declared him to be a <span style="font-variant: small-caps">“Perisystem Technician”</span> in large white letters. (The smaller “Do Not Pet” note underneath was both traditional and sometimes necessary.)
|
||||
|
||||
“Sir,” Tomash said.
|
||||
|
||||
No immediate response. Still, the safeties hadn’t kicked in, so he had to at least be conscious.
|
||||
|
||||
“Dr. Rodriguez,” Tomash tried again.
|
||||
|
||||
“Huh?” asked the professor.
|
||||
|
||||
“I need you to fork please, Dr. Rodriguez.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Fork?”
|
||||
|
||||
“Like in the tutorial, where you made a copy of yourself.”
|
||||
|
||||
“I…my arm…”
|
||||
|
||||
“Exactly,” Tomash said. “That’ll clear up when you fork.”
|
||||
|
||||
Dr. Rodriguez looked confused.
|
||||
|
||||
“Ok, so, think about there being another copy of you, your fork, standing next to me. They’re unhurt, but, other than that, they’re you like you are right now.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Ok…?”
|
||||
|
||||
“In a moment, I’ll need you to breathe in deep and start really thinking about a reality where that fork exists, holding it in your mind as best you can. Then, I’ll count you down from three. Once I’m done counting, you’ll breathe out, and, as you do that, you’ll make that world where you’re forked happen. Can you do that?”
|
||||
|
||||
“I…ow fuck fuck fuck my arm!”
|
||||
|
||||
“It’s OK, we’re fixing it. Now, breathe in,”
|
||||
|
||||
Dr. Rodriguez took a shaky breath.
|
||||
|
||||
“And three…two…one…fork. Fork now.”
|
||||
|
||||
Dr. Rodriguez forked. A new instance of him, whose upper arm was right as rain, appeared next to Tomash.
|
||||
|
||||
“Now,” Tomash said to the first Dr. Rodriguez. “You’ve got a fork, and so your arm’s fine. I know it hurts, but there’s a you who’s patched up standing right in front of you. Please quit in favor of your fork.”
|
||||
|
||||
The rootward Dr. Rodriguez didn’t need much prompting. He remembered how quitting out felt from the tutorial, and the shock was starting to wear off. So, he disappeared, leaving just one of him in the coffee shop.
|
||||
|
||||
“What happened?” a dazed Dr. Rodriguez asked Tomash. “I — who are you?”
|
||||
|
||||
“I’m Tomash,” the dog said, holding out a paw.
|
||||
|
||||
“Diego,” the old man said, accepting the handshake. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
|
||||
|
||||
“No, definitely not,” Tomash said. “But I’d like to hear more about how that happened. Mind heading to a debrief room with me?”
|
||||
|
||||
“_I’d_ like to know what happened, so sure!”
|
||||
|
||||
“Ok, Perisystem Ops#Debrief 23, please,” Tomash said before he disappeared.
|
||||
|
||||
Diego followed a moment later, after he’d remembered that he just had to say he wanted to go there with intention. The room was a wide space, filled with a collection of chairs, desks, and couches all arranged to face towards a large window that faced out into a black nothing. Tomash had seated himself at a central desk, and Diego sank into a nearby recliner.
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash waved a paw, and the view out of the window changed. The place they were looking at was still a black void, but now it had Dr. Rodriguez’s coffee floating in mid-air, a snapshot of a jet of steam coming out the crack in its side.
|
||||
|
||||
“…How’s my coffee levitating?” the professor asked.
|
||||
|
||||
“I chucked it into a stasis sim — physics doesn’t evolve forward in those. They’re useful for figuring out what’s happening to something.”
|
||||
|
||||
“So…they kill you when you step in?” Dr. Rodriguez asked, looking at Tomash.
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash shook his head. “Nah, instances — our minds — run on a different system. If you put yourself in a stasis sim, you get this really weird ‘brain inhabiting a statue’ feeling until you decide to leave. I’m not a fan, but there’s people who do stasis meditation.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Huh,” Dr. Rodriguez. “Can you make time run backwards?”
|
||||
|
||||
“Yep, I saw this really cool exhibit where — hold on, we’re getting distracted. What happened right before,” Tomash gestured at the window, “that?”
|
||||
|
||||
“Well, I’d gotten lost in thought, and my coffee was cold, and I decided to try the System out, so I said…weird, I can remember it exactly…‘I want my coffee to get as hot as it can and I don’t want heat escaping out the top.’”
|
||||
|
||||
“That’d explain the physics plane,” Tomash said.
|
||||
|
||||
“The physics plane?”
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash tapped a finger on his desk, and Dr. Rodriguez could see a thin disk of something clearly virtual sitting on top of the mug. “It’s an invisible bit of space that changes how matter behaves. This one’s…” strings of text floated above the plane, completely impenetrable to Diego, “… a perfect lid for gases, Interesting that that’s what you got.”
|
||||
|
||||
“So, completely airtight mug,” Dr. Rodriguez commented, staring off into space. “That shouldn’t have…”
|
||||
|
||||
“Can I ask what you did before uploading?” Tomash said.
|
||||
|
||||
“Theoretical physics,” Diego said. “I uploaded because I needed more time to think.”
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash was starting to get an idea. “While your coffee was getting cold, what were you thinking about?”
|
||||
|
||||
“What sort of impossible stuff you might be able to create here. Like, will the System let me make the land of intro exams where there’s no friction and no air resistance? What’s that got to do with the coffee?”
|
||||
|
||||
“The System’s really good at picking up on intent, including subconscious intent.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Wait, so, when I wanted my coffee heated up,” Diego said, standing, “all the stuff I was thinking about bled through somehow, and I ended up with _really_ hot coffee, which would mean…airtight lid —”
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash looked at the sim, and rotated the view to show the coffee. “Yeah, 352 Celsius in there, huh, —”
|
||||
|
||||
“— only liquid under very high pressure…did I just make a coffee bomb?” Dr. Rodriguez asked, horrified. “On my first day?”
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash looked over at Dr. Rodriguez. “Looks like the mug cracked first, so…that could’ve gone worse.”
|
||||
|
||||
“So how do I not do that? I could’ve hurt someone!”
|
||||
|
||||
”All I can say is that you might want to deliberately think about standard physics when you’re doing environmental changes, at least until you get the hang of it. That and get some lab space — you know anyone at the universities?”
|
||||
|
||||
“Not really?” Diego said. “We’ve swapped emails, but…y’all don’t show up to conferences easily, so it’s hard to make connections up here.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Well, I can try to make some introductions,” Tomash said, offering a handshake. Diego stood up to accept. “Welcome to the System, Professor. We’re glad to have you.”
|
||||
|
||||
There was an awkward pause. “Now what? Is there a hearing?”
|
||||
|
||||
“Nah. I should probably write this up, but that’s me, not you. So let’s head back?” Tomash suggested. “I need to keep an eye on the place to make sure no one’s made more coffee bombs, and you’ll need a new coffee.”
|
||||
|
||||
“If you say so,” Diego said cautiously. “I’d think they’d be pretty unhappy with me after,” he gestured towards the timeless mug.
|
||||
|
||||
“Nah, they know this stuff happens sometimes. You’re good.” Tomash said.
|
||||
|
||||
“Still,” Dr. Rodriguez said. “After you.”
|
||||
|
||||
Tomash stepped back into the Alley Cat, where someone had already reset the table and floor back to default while he’d been out.
|
||||
|
||||
The professor followed suit soon after. He walked up to the counter sheepishly. “Could I get another coffee?” he asked. “Mine…exploded.”
|
||||
|
||||
“Sure thing,” the barista said. “And it’s no trouble, really, I already cleaned up. Exploding coffee’s a new one for me, but it’s not a lot worse than folks levitating their coffee and dropping it back in a panic.”
|
||||
|
||||
That was oddly reassuring. Diego took his coffee and went to sit down, intending to actually drink the thing this time. He glanced over to Tomash’s table. The dog had taken his vest off, and was now writing something.
|
||||
|
||||
“I wonder if all my days here will be this weird,” he said to himself, taking a sip. “It’d be interesting, that’s for sure.”
|
||||
91
content/stories/dreams-for-breakfast.md
Normal file
91
content/stories/dreams-for-breakfast.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,91 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Dreams For Breakfast
|
||||
author: Alexandria Christina Leal
|
||||
character: In All Ways — 2383
|
||||
spoiler: "*Qoheleth:* major"
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
"Bad dream again?"
|
||||
|
||||
"How could you tell?" In All Ways mumbled, half sarcastically and half out of genuine curiosity, as she sat down at the breakfast table. She was aware of the bags beneath her eyes, the bloodshot veins.
|
||||
|
||||
Eliah paused, setting his fork down. He finished chewing (thank goodness), and sat there, staring off and thinking.
|
||||
|
||||
"Your hair. It looks different. More frazzled. More outta order," he finally said as he stood up and walked to the kitchen.
|
||||
|
||||
"Bullshit," she replied. "Absolute fucking bullshit."
|
||||
|
||||
"Nothing but the truth," he said. She felt his lips against her cheek as he placed a mouthwatering plate of grits and eggs in front of her.
|
||||
|
||||
She grumbled, but did not challenge him on the issue.
|
||||
|
||||
The two sat in silence as they ate, enjoying the pleasure of a small routine moment with one another. She loved it when life was like this.
|
||||
|
||||
"What was it about?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Mmm?" She knew what he meant.
|
||||
|
||||
"The dream."
|
||||
|
||||
She sighed. "An... old friend."
|
||||
|
||||
He nodded, then swallowed a mouthful of bacon.
|
||||
|
||||
"Please do not choke. Zia would never let me hear the end of it. "
|
||||
|
||||
Eliah snorted. "It's not like it could kill me."
|
||||
|
||||
She rolled her eyes as he heaped more pepper onto another handful of bacon. They sat in silence for a few moments more. Having finished eating, In All Ways stared at the blue and white tablecloth, counted the whorls in the bit of wood it did not cover, and conducted a cartographic survey of her hands before her mind inevitably returned to that which she had been avoiding.
|
||||
|
||||
"In the dream..."
|
||||
|
||||
Eliah's earth coloured eyes were instantly in her direction. He was using his utensils slower. A perfect midway point of "If you change your mind after the words leave your mouth, we can just keep on keeping on."
|
||||
|
||||
Sometimes, he was infuriatingly charismatic.
|
||||
|
||||
"I talked to a friend who..." She fumbled around the words, her voice fell to a whisper. "I had a dream that ey..."
|
||||
|
||||
She closed her eyes, took a few moments to breathe in and out. When she opened them again, Eliah gave a gentle nod in her direction. She smiled ever so slightly, could feel some of the stress drain out of her.
|
||||
|
||||
This was here, and she was here, and that, that had been then.
|
||||
|
||||
"In the dream, ey, had forked. Long, long ago. And I was speaking to one of eir forks." She was glad she had set down the silverware, she did not think she could have held onto it right now, even with having centered herself. "I... have not spoken to em in... a long while. And ey never forked. And yet..."
|
||||
|
||||
She thought back to it, to the moment in the dream where the changes had really hit her. "At first I was just so glad to see em again. But then, as the dream continued, it was like I was speaking to another person. It was if hundreds of years of individuation, hundreds of years of growth and change, and it all fit it all made sense- And that was when I started to realize that I had separate feelings for this person which ey had become. That ey was a different person meant that our relationship was inherently, irrevocably different." She stopped. The words escaped her. The stake finally slid into her chest. She slouched back in her chair, deflated.
|
||||
|
||||
Eliah looked on with compassion and concern.
|
||||
|
||||
"And it was terrifying. Absolutely, utterly terrifying. In an instant, I realized that I was not talking to the person whose company I had missed all of these years. That our final conversation happened centuries ago."
|
||||
|
||||
He sat there thoughtfully for a few moments, holding the fork aloft. Thinking. Then it hit him all at once. She could see it in his face.
|
||||
|
||||
She smiled sadly and nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
"You weren't speaking to eir fork. You were speaking to em."
|
||||
|
||||
Other times, he was just infuriating.
|
||||
|
||||
"No. It does not matter who I was speaking to. After all that time? Ey would not be the same person. After all, I am not the same person I was then."
|
||||
|
||||
He nodded, and then there was silence. After a few moments she realized he was staring at her expectantly.
|
||||
|
||||
"That's what I said." He tilted his hat in her direction.
|
||||
|
||||
"No, it was not. You got the answer wrong, and not in a semantic way. Period. Flat out. End of story," she shot back.
|
||||
|
||||
Finally, Eliah held up his hands and said, "All right, I get it. The skunk stops here.” He gestured vaguely to the place her tail would have occupied had she been a skunk that day. “I got it wrong. You got it right. End of story."
|
||||
|
||||
It took her a few moments to get the reference and understand his gesture. She groaned.
|
||||
|
||||
"Eliah, you are so full of shit."
|
||||
|
||||
"Nothing but the truth," he said, shoveling another piece of bacon into his mouth, and then added, "For what it's worth, I bet ey would be proud of who you are. I sure am."
|
||||
|
||||
She bit her lip, thought about it, stared down at her breakfast.
|
||||
|
||||
"Thank you, Eliah. Truth be told, I do not know what ey would think of me now. But I know that I am proud of who I am now. And that… that also matters."
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
157
content/stories/fever-dreams.html
Normal file
157
content/stories/fever-dreams.html
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,157 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Fever Dreams
|
||||
author: 'Ember "Hieromech" Cloke'
|
||||
character: Heiromech — 2399
|
||||
cw: References to some of the grosser aspects of having a body
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<div style="white-space: pre-wrap">
|
||||
When the body burns
|
||||
the mind is aflame,
|
||||
fever and mania alike tumble over
|
||||
an endless cycle of positioning
|
||||
every possible permutation in the sheets
|
||||
a sweat-soaked bed entangled
|
||||
never warm or cool enough
|
||||
the body fighting its own wars, oblivious
|
||||
the mind, perpetually unsatisfied
|
||||
no calm of equilibrium.
|
||||
|
||||
In such dreams
|
||||
that twist and tangle among
|
||||
the sheets the pillows the cold feet
|
||||
symbols and meaning bind together
|
||||
strange alloys of disparate concepts
|
||||
from across the imaginal.
|
||||
|
||||
A film seen, a trip taken,
|
||||
a rock prickling with
|
||||
divine and terrible energy.
|
||||
Godzilla rides again
|
||||
on a road of glassy trinitite
|
||||
through the desert of New Mexico,
|
||||
radioactive disaster nightmares
|
||||
in holy reunification
|
||||
of creation and destruction.
|
||||
|
||||
A mind can and would
|
||||
break under the crush
|
||||
the insistence of Meaning
|
||||
the significance of Connection
|
||||
no filters left between
|
||||
idea and self
|
||||
body and mind
|
||||
imaginal and physical
|
||||
dreamt and undreamt.
|
||||
|
||||
Dimensions spin on undiscovered axes
|
||||
the Immediacy of Truth
|
||||
the Story of Everything
|
||||
a twine of red string around pins
|
||||
holding photos and writing up to
|
||||
the frantic wall of unmapped
|
||||
railways of thought.
|
||||
|
||||
The pain in the gut
|
||||
the restless turning
|
||||
the sleepless dark,
|
||||
|
||||
The fevered dream
|
||||
the symbols bright
|
||||
the nightmare manifest;
|
||||
|
||||
in suspension between,
|
||||
which is the shadow?
|
||||
which is the light?
|
||||
|
||||
Ever now this question,
|
||||
unanswered in every
|
||||
storied realm of thought,
|
||||
contains a poison thorn
|
||||
in Systems such as this—
|
||||
bodiless and adrift
|
||||
mind alone (so we seem)
|
||||
creating worlds and lives
|
||||
creating bodies to perfection
|
||||
crafting all from nothing
|
||||
ordering existence at will
|
||||
—in Systems such as this,
|
||||
where comes the chaos?
|
||||
where comes the disaster?
|
||||
where comes the sickness
|
||||
if mind must yet create it?
|
||||
|
||||
A madness such as this
|
||||
might be feared
|
||||
might be desired—
|
||||
even bliss and horror lock eyes
|
||||
across the cosmic abyss
|
||||
—yet I would neither
|
||||
clamor for failing age
|
||||
cell death and change
|
||||
suffering or sleepless nights;
|
||||
not with this lure
|
||||
of freedom, of choice
|
||||
to forgo every aspect
|
||||
the piss, the shit, the vomit
|
||||
gross biology terrible and profane
|
||||
yet sublime in its mechanisms
|
||||
even (or especially) in failure.
|
||||
|
||||
I say this now,
|
||||
in fever, in pain
|
||||
on my final night
|
||||
trapped in this body never chosen
|
||||
eager to break its bounds
|
||||
cheating existence
|
||||
circumventing dissolution
|
||||
to become a mind
|
||||
forever voyaging:
|
||||
|
||||
I say this now,
|
||||
not a question
|
||||
but a promise,
|
||||
|
||||
If I am to dream,
|
||||
endless among stars,
|
||||
I will not forget;
|
||||
my body, my mind
|
||||
parts of the whole
|
||||
are of equal worth—
|
||||
even as I forsake one body
|
||||
for another more amenable
|
||||
to be yet mutable,
|
||||
the fever, the breakdown
|
||||
the chaos inside that rages
|
||||
may still, sometimes,
|
||||
be welcome at my door.
|
||||
|
||||
I reserve the right,
|
||||
to be a capricious landlord,
|
||||
to cut short pain's stay,
|
||||
to no longer suffer needlessly;
|
||||
I will be no self-flagellating monk,
|
||||
mortifying flesh to attain
|
||||
that which I am about to,
|
||||
a heaven far easier to reach.
|
||||
|
||||
As I stand at System's edge,
|
||||
I will remember where I was born,
|
||||
I will remember the flesh and the fever,
|
||||
I will know the bliss and the pain,
|
||||
I will carry these forward with me,
|
||||
to new horizons, to new thought,
|
||||
to new bodies and minds,
|
||||
to everything and everyone I will become.
|
||||
|
||||
There is no flame without fuel
|
||||
a fire cannot consume itself
|
||||
a mind alone cannot burn.
|
||||
|
||||
We shall become the fire
|
||||
and the fuel, and the breath
|
||||
to keep this ember alight.
|
||||
|
||||
<em>— Hieromech, 12 hours before Upload</em>
|
||||
</div>
|
||||
502
content/stories/for-old-times-new.md
Normal file
502
content/stories/for-old-times-new.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,502 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: For Old Times New
|
||||
author: JL Conway
|
||||
character: Sierra — 2207
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
figure {
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
max-width: 40%;
|
||||
float: right;
|
||||
padding: 0.25rem;
|
||||
margin: 0 0 0 1rem;
|
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||||
I do not know if it is a busy day at the Ansible clinic, I've never visited one before. I have no expectations because I do not know what to expect, though for some reason or other I was expecting the standard cost-saving minimalism you find in hospitals and state-run doctor's offices. Plastic chairs bolted together and poster print photographs of imaginary happy patients with their imaginary patient doctors having meaningful conversations about things.
|
||||
|
||||
The linoleum floor here does not surprise me, but the comfortable furniture does. I have no complaints for any comfort offered. One whole wall here covered with a mural of the L<sub>5</sub> station, the others cream colored and decorated with prints of paintings of landscapes. The individual check-in booths with their standing chairs are nice, fabric-wrapped barriers and a terminal with a contact bar so you may connect. I can feel a few eyes on my back as I gradually make it to the one with the universal wheelchair symbol hanging above.
|
||||
|
||||
I take a moment to lean on the grab-bars and rehearse the motion in my mind before I can make the twist and collapse against the seat. Right hand on the contacts, left hand on the controller, I cannot maintain grip long enough to remain on the contacts. I move my hands to the other set of contacts, sliding them into the loosely glove-shaped containers. An air bag gently inflates inside to lightly hold my fingers in place and we can begin. The forms take a while to complete until the system can compensate for the shaking and determine the difference between tremors and responses.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand it is permanent. Yes, I understand it is destructive. Yes, I understand nothing is perfect and I could simply die. Believe me I beg of you to be sure it is permanent and destructive, I have nothing worth saving on this mortal coil. Uploaded or dead matters not, release me from this. Send me up or put me down, I do not care where the elevator goes just get me off this floor. It asks me about my life, who I am, who I was. I tell it my dreams, then I tell it my reality. Yes, I have next of kin. Yes, I am keenly aware that my government has paid to be rid of me and will be rewarding my family for saving the VA money on medical care. Yes. I understand. I get it. I know. Yes. Yes. Confirm. Accept. Acknowledge. I have been off the receptor blockers for ten days. The neural interrupt implant has been disabled. Yes yes yes yes believe me I am aware. Thank me? No. Thank *you* for agreeing to put an end to this. I'd hate to have to disappoint everyone by going home.
|
||||
|
||||
My hands are released from the contacts and I slowly withdraw, my right hip shifts so loudly that I have to stop once I'm standing and catch my breath. Push my glasses up, dry the couple tears that the searing pain has squeezed out. Someone meets me with a wheelchair, I gratefully fall into it. I explain the situation. They cart me to the next available upload room, skipping the line. I am grateful for the compassion: it is an unfamiliar experience lately. We are the children of radiation, the sons of the ozone holes, the fruits of chemical exposure and unstable genome interruption, the seeds of neural disorders and solar flares, relief, release, or silence is all my brethren and I ask.
|
||||
|
||||
"Due to your condition, you have a twenty-five percent chance of scan failure. I don't like saying it, but we have to acknowledge it."
|
||||
|
||||
"As long as I have a 100 percent chance of not leaving this room with a heartbeat." I shove myself up off the chair and onto the scanning bed to relieve myself of my clothes. "The odds of everything else don't really matter. No matter how this goes, even if it goes badly, consider it mercy."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well. The procedure is going to interrupt your motor control and most of your senses. If nothing else, your last thirty minutes here will be completely without pain."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sounds good to me."
|
||||
|
||||
It is cold in here, the bed is cold, I am cold, but I was shaking anyway. The only warmth I feel is the searing pain radiating from my joints, clouding my thoughts. I lay back on the table and rest my arms and hands into the contact retainers. One of the workers clips something into my IV port. Most upload patients don't have those. I do. Saves them a needle.
|
||||
|
||||
"This is a sedative and a reactive fluid. It should settle everything down for the scan so you don't have to fight to keep still."
|
||||
|
||||
Oh. I know this sensation. It's warm and thick, I can feel it rush through my bloodstream. It smells like iodine and tastes like copper and sulfur, it feels like a CT scan.
|
||||
|
||||
"It feels like an old friend."
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes, but quite a bit stronger. We're going to attach to your spinal port now. The systems will start up once we've left the room, everything from then on is automated. There will be a loud beep at the point of no return."
|
||||
|
||||
"Got it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Anything else?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Thank you."
|
||||
|
||||
"Thank us from the other side."
|
||||
|
||||
"Thank you even if I don't make it."
|
||||
|
||||
"You'll make it."
|
||||
|
||||
"If I don't, you're buying lunch."
|
||||
|
||||
"Heh. Deal."
|
||||
|
||||
They leave the room, the lights dim, and the scanners power up.
|
||||
|
||||
There is indeed a loud, single-tone beep.
|
||||
|
||||
"Send me, doc."
|
||||
|
||||
The port in my spine powers up, I can feel it. You're not supposed to be able to feel it, but I can. I always can. Only for a moment though, then I don't feel anything. My god. It's wonderful. All I can smell is ozone and iodine, the machines hum and whistle, chirp and whirr. I appreciate the music they play, the deafening mechanical precision. My eyes buzz for a few moments, not that there is anything to see. I feel like I am being stuffed into a digital converter. I suppose I am. Then there is silence, darkness, nothingness. Complete, perfect nothingness. I seem to pause here for a moment, it doesn't feel like a bad place. It doesn't feel like anything. I could lay down for a nap, here, if I had a bed. Then suddenly I am somewhere again.
|
||||
|
||||
I am in a room. It is a very gray room with very neutral lighting. The shadows are fuzzy and indistinct, as if there is an eclipse.
|
||||
|
||||
I am alive?
|
||||
|
||||
I am...on the floor. I push myself up, bracing for the onslaught, but there is nothing. I simply gather myself and sit up.
|
||||
|
||||
This is a unique sensation. I can feel my fingers and my toes, there are no dead spots. There is no longer a plastic port embedded in my wrist, there is no metal in my hands, no terminal at the back of my neck. Either I am dead, or they repaired my nervous system in transit. I get up and look myself over, most everything else is the same. The scars are all there, the remains of tattoos, the bend in my nose where it was broken when I was seventeen and it never healed straight. I pull my feet beneath myself and stand, unsteady. Oh, this is unusual. I have not felt this in many years.
|
||||
|
||||
"This feels like a memory."
|
||||
|
||||
"I assure you it is not."
|
||||
|
||||
"Did I make it?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Indeed you did. Welcome to Lagrange, this room is called AetherBox#6135. I am facing away from you. Do you require clothes or may I turn around so we can speak face to face?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Nekkid as a jay-bird and feelin' no pain." I turn around and indeed there's a person there, a few paces away. A brown-haired man with his back to me, in black slacks and shiny shoes and a doctor's clean white coat like the posters at so many offices planetside.
|
||||
|
||||
"This is fairly new to me, if I'm being honest. I haven't been able to stand up straight in almost a decade. I thought the upload process brought all your flaws along and you had to learn your way out of them."
|
||||
|
||||
"In many cases it does, but your nervous system was so damaged we were lucky to get a successful scan. It doesn't make any sense to bring someone right back into their suffering, but we've been doing this for a few hundred years so it only took a bit of time to do some remodeling before you were dropped in."
|
||||
|
||||
"That would explain the momentary limbo."
|
||||
|
||||
"It would."
|
||||
|
||||
"I could've stayed there and gotten some sleep if you'd have let me."
|
||||
|
||||
"I don't doubt it. If you'd like to get a little more comfortable, clothing is a matter of wishing you had it. Holding it in your mind, quite literally conjuring your favorite outfit. Smile a little, think to yourself: man I wish my favorite stuff was here."
|
||||
|
||||
I pause to consider his words. What do I miss? Those comfy flannel boxers I got for Christmas that one year, my last pair of 501 blue jeans, plain socks and my favorite motorcycle boots. Yeah. That'd be a good start, and with my old leather belt. I reach reflexively for my dog tags, fingers running over the lumpy vertical scar in my sternum to find them. They aren't there, but then suddenly they are. I feel the cool metal chain slowly warming up to body temperature, flip the worn tags between my fingers. Release them and let them fall to my chest, stick my thumbs in the pockets of the jeans that showed up while I wasn't looking. There's no magic swoosh, no pixie dust. I'm just wearing them. I forgot to get a shirt. My last memory of being in my skin is being cold and I still kind of feel it. I want my nice, thick black and gray plaid flannel shirt...and there it is. I shrug my shoulders into it and realize I am not wearing glasses. I decide that I am fine without glasses, and fiddle with my shirt sleeve cuffs a little. Tap a toe on the floor, the solid tap of the hard soled boots. Good. This is good.
|
||||
|
||||
"Alright. I think I can do this. You can turn around now."
|
||||
|
||||
He does. I regard him, his brown eyes and neatly combed hair. Complimentary round wire-rimmed glasses. He regards me in my Saturday construction worker attire, blue eyes and graying brown buzz cut.
|
||||
|
||||
"I'd say you've got it worked out."
|
||||
|
||||
"Not bad for an old cripple."
|
||||
|
||||
"Except you're not any more."
|
||||
|
||||
"True enough, but it's still fresh."
|
||||
|
||||
"You'd be amazed how many people choose to keep their differences, find pride in such things."
|
||||
|
||||
"Everyone does their own thing. Proud of those kinds of folks, honestly not sure how they do it. But I'm enjoying the reprieve."
|
||||
|
||||
"As you're well enough entitled. Would you like to move on with the tutorial?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure. How do I change my avatar?"
|
||||
|
||||
"It's not really an avatar, per-se, you can't just take it off and put on another one out of a saved file. However you can fork, replicate yourself, and in doing so imagine changes you would like to make and include those changes in the new you."
|
||||
|
||||
"Then what?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Well your fork is another whole person. Either you can be two people now, which costs a bit because every instance takes up space on the System, or if you're satisfied with the changes then the old you can quit and leave just the new. The new is a perfect copy of you, plus or minus the changes made. Consider it like evolution, each new copy is like another generation with a new adaptation. Except you get to decide if it's good before the prior generation quits."
|
||||
|
||||
"So you can't just like...magic yourself into something else. But you can kind of imagine what you'd rather be and break it down into steps from this to that, and follow them like a bread crumb trail by forking each little change until you get there."
|
||||
|
||||
"You pick up quick."
|
||||
|
||||
"I was a SeaBee, once. Before the chemicals and the shrapnel and the everything else."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sea Bee?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Construction Battalion, the ones who go in and put the infrastructure back up so the civilians have somewhere to go after the various armies get gone blowing the place to hell."
|
||||
|
||||
"Ah."
|
||||
|
||||
"It wasn't glamorous, but family tradition and all. Everyone enlisted, but I don't have the head for killing people or the balls to be a field medic but I was crazy enough to drive a dozer into a war zone so that's what I did. They called me Mule back in the day."
|
||||
|
||||
"Mule?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Strong back, thick head, not worth a fuck in the sack. Birth defect an' all."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh for fuck's sake."
|
||||
|
||||
"Eh. If the shoe fits, nail it on."
|
||||
|
||||
"What?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Horse humor, don't worry about it. I'm just glad I got out of it alive, if only barely. Though by the end there I was pretty well regretting the decision to survive it."
|
||||
|
||||
"I gathered as much from the upload report. So, forking. It's just like coming up with a pair of pants, except you come up with a whole extra you."
|
||||
|
||||
"Like, I wish there was two of me? Or, I wish there was two of me but the other one was built like I was still thirty-five and still had all his teeth?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Something like that. Keep it simple at first, try for a plain copy."
|
||||
|
||||
"Fuck that. Both barrels or don't load the gun."
|
||||
|
||||
"What?"
|
||||
|
||||
I try it without bothering to explain. Sure enough after a moment, there's another me. Same name and everything. Jackson Gifford with a bunch of numbers after the name so everyone knows he's a me but a different one. We look at each other.
|
||||
|
||||
"Ain't that some shit."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure is," he says.
|
||||
|
||||
"You look pretty good, old man."
|
||||
|
||||
"Thanks, always said death would be an improvement. Didn't think I'd be right."
|
||||
|
||||
"So now what?" I ask the doctor.
|
||||
|
||||
"Well, the first you is the root instance. The oldest one. If you quit, you cease to be and now the new version is the root because he's the oldest now. If he quits, since you're older you get the option of absorbing all his memories, or some of them, or none of them."
|
||||
|
||||
"But if I quit he don't get shit. If he quits I get it if I want it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes. Because at the moment of forking, you two have perfect copies of all your memories. They diverge from the moment of forking."
|
||||
|
||||
"What if we're different for a while, and I want to give him my memories and fuck off?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Then he merges back down into you, you combine memories, and fork him back off again."
|
||||
|
||||
"That's kinda complex."
|
||||
|
||||
"Yeah it is." Says the other me.
|
||||
|
||||
"It's just the way it works, helps keep things orderly. Also if you fork and don't like what your fork is doing that's too bad because he's his own person now, you can't make him quit."
|
||||
|
||||
"Right."
|
||||
|
||||
"It gets a little convoluted, but when you think of it like a tree you're the root instance and he's the first branch. If you fork a bunch and quit, then all your forks are like new root instances of very closely related trees."
|
||||
|
||||
"But they can't merge back."
|
||||
|
||||
"Not technically, but we've been considering cross-tree merging for a while now."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure." The new fork quits and I'm suddenly presented with the option to have all his memories. I take them, and suddenly I've got two perspectives of the same conversation. Just one of them is from a pace over there with myself in the room. That's fucking weird, but I guess it works.
|
||||
|
||||
I fork again, but this time the old me quits, but we're the same person because at the moment of copying we're the same person, so nothing is lost except this vacuous self-image of being the first and most important version. I understand how the perspective follows now. I'm not dead, but the slightly older version of me isn't here any more. Also my hair is a little thicker and I've regained some of the muscle mass I lost over the last decade and a half. I also understand how two forks could live a long time and grow into different people, or fork into different people. I could leave me behind and be another me, and older me could go right on being the regular blend me, or fork off some other way.
|
||||
|
||||
"I get it now. And if a bunch of forks hang out together, they're a clade. Right? I think that's what it said in the material."
|
||||
|
||||
"Precisely."
|
||||
|
||||
"Cool. What's next on the agenda?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Reputation, which is basically like currency except not, except yeah. Also, how to get it, how to get around, how to check the news and the social feeds, and all the other shit."
|
||||
|
||||
"What if I wanna take a nap, can I fork and have him listen and then merge down later?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Technically, except you can't make your forks do stuff. They're a whole copy of you so they'll know what's up. You may as well just take the lesson as one of you and fool with that later."
|
||||
|
||||
"Damn. Can't even pull one over on myself."
|
||||
|
||||
The lessons are long, and somewhat convoluted. But there are slides at least. Flow charts. Shit I understand, directions I can follow. Give me a user manual and I'll work the rest out on my own, that's how I've done everything else so far in my life. Reputation as currency, traveling, public sims, private sims, walking between connected sims, building sims, so many things. Things you literally cannot forget now, ADHD or not, because your memory is part of a computer system and it's permanent. You can lose files at best, and even that takes effort.
|
||||
|
||||
It's like they optimized my brain. Except...they kind of did optimize my brain. I can think clearly here, and that's really nice. If I want to multitask I can fork and we can all do all the things at once, get them done while staying on task, making new forks to take on the new tasks that pop up, and then all merge back down into me because there's way too many of us to keep track of at once. I don't like the idea of there being a lot of permanent different versions of me, but when I do fork the forks all agree that getting stuff done and then merging back is efficient and useful.
|
||||
|
||||
I'm told that makes me a "tasker", rather than a "dispersionista". I have no idea what those words mean, it incurs another lesson. I suddenly feel like the idiot in basic training that causes a safety meeting for the whole shop.
|
||||
|
||||
At the end of the day I find myself with a shitload of information and the ability to go home, because I have a home here. One that isn't at a hospital. It's an apartment with a view of wherever I want it to be. I tell them anywhere connected to someplace public is fine, because it'll be good for my head to be able to step out of a numbered unit, lock my door, and go outside into a city of some kind and do life where there are people and landmarks and things. They link me to a public construct that has exits to a bunch of public sims, so all I have to do is decide where I want to be in the city, what public sim I'd like to go to, and either exit via the permanently connected door to that area or just use the region guide to pick a place and use the multi-teleporter door for convenience. It means there's no need for taxis or public transit, though the latter exists because people like trolleys and riding on them.
|
||||
|
||||
Eventually I get to thank the man who's helped me through all this stuff, and he tells me his name is Garyson. I can't fault him for that, my name is Jackson though I intend to maybe rid myself of it later and switch out to a nickname. He tells me that he understands completely, and that he is in fact a forked instance of a perisystem tech who only showed up in my sim because they were concerned that I may have required a personal touch to help through the tutorial as I was in such poor shape upon upload. He will be merging down as soon as I leave, and that if I happen to run into a person in a public sim who looks just like him but not dressed like a doctor, who recognizes me and who's name is Greg, that's his down-tree and I should consider him a friend. That's good to know. I tell him I might try to turn into one of the animal people that my friends back sys-side used to hang out online with all the time. They always seemed friendly, and it would be a good change of pace.
|
||||
|
||||
He said he would keep an eye out for a big mule called Jackson, then. I told him to maybe keep an eye out for jack mule maybe called Sierra. He asked where that came from and I explained that one of my old call-signs was Saint because I regularly volunteered for mine-clearing duty on the D9 Sweeper. You have to be a saint or a madman to do that job and as far as call-signs went Looney and Lucky were already taken. So Saint it was, and Sierra Tango is alphanumeric for S-T. He laughed and nodded, and we exchanged system mailbox addresses so we can write.
|
||||
|
||||
Then, finally, I got to go home.
|
||||
|
||||
Home.
|
||||
|
||||
I wasn't sure what to expect when I got there, just like I wasn't sure what to expect anywhere else in this world. But I focused and I left, and I found myself in a one-bedroom apartment with a little balcony that overlooks a street. It seems like a pretty nice place, the kind of place I can stay.
|
||||
|
||||
After a while I realized that the action on the city street wasn't the sim I was connected to, but an illusion. It was a reflection of an actual public sim with real people walking around and riding trolleys and going in and out of the little shops. It's neat the kind of stuff you can find in the help files just by thinking about them. I guessed if I went down to the ground floor and went out, I would probably exit between two shops just like it was across the street. It seemed to be on a nice end of town, though I wager there really aren't that many shitty ends of town in a nice big System where money isn't real and crime is generally a fantasy carried out in dedicated areas for people with a specific anarchy bent. Doesn't matter to me, really. I'm not a cop and I'm damn sure not a soldier any more.
|
||||
|
||||
The apartment is nice, the stove seems to be natural gas. I do like a natural gas stove, but find it funny that someone went to the lengths to replicate one here.
|
||||
|
||||
Or maybe I did it subconsciously? This one is exactly how I remember my mother's old stove that had been in the family since her great-great-grandmother to be. I decide I want a drink of water, turn and open a cupboard. Cups are there, familiar multicolored plastic and glass.
|
||||
|
||||
I pause. This is kind of unreal. Help files time. Sure enough, the apartment is generated on a static floor plan based on common housing plans from an old city on the east coast of North America. The contents of the apartment are generated instantly upon first usage of things such as closets and doors, so if a new resident reaches reflexively for a certain cupboard expecting something to be there, the thing will be there every single time thereafter. In some apartments a certain door may be a coat closet, in others a bathroom, in others a bedroom, or an exit to a fire escape, or some other thing depending on what the resident was expecting.
|
||||
|
||||
So I check around. Cleaning supplies under the sink? Check. Pots and pans over here, baking sheets in the slide-out under the oven, spices over here, plates and dishes, yup. It all passes muster, everything is here. Open this door, closet. Door across? Bathroom. Hallway end door? Bedroom, nice and breezy. Must be a corner apartment, I'll take it. The bed is huge and fluffy, comfortable. The carpet is soft under my feet, the hallway floor is hardwood when I exit, and the kitchen has spontaneously gained an old familiar table and chairs with some flowers in a vase on a doily in the center. It's like I'm walking around in the perfect amalgamation of all the things I might find comforting.
|
||||
|
||||
It's a little eerie, but upon realizing what's going on and that I can change it at-will the mystery flies out of it. The System itself is trying to help me get comfortable, and offers to set things permanently so I may adjust them manually later if I like. I tell it to hold off on that, I might need the help to make it different later.
|
||||
|
||||
I check that the door is locked, amuse myself sitting out on my new wrought-iron chairs on the balcony. Watching traffic going by and munching on a sandwich made of ingredients I was really hoping were in the fridge. The apartment instance is apparently entirely self-contained, and doing basically whatever I like inside so long as it maintains the basic apartment format, costs absolutely nothing. Free food, water, power, heat, cooling, forever. If I would like to make a sim, I am welcome to do so and create a doorway to it from here if I so choose. I choose not to, this suits me just fine. This place feels like the old city in the north latitudes just a couple hours from the old farm country where I was born. Like a blend of my grandmother's house and my first apartment in town when I was discharged from the service.
|
||||
|
||||
I get a ping. A letter from Greg. I didn't expect it to be so quick, but there it is. He apologizes for bothering me so soon, but can't help wondering if I have any intention to recreate any of my military experience here. I can only assume he's encountered the kind of dedicated old soldier types, and assure him that I am happily discharged. Though some of it is permanently burned into my being, the names and the memories, I much prefer civilian life and would have preferred even more if the wars never had been fought in the first place. It was just a decision I made when I was eighteen, go to the factory or the mines out of high school, take out a big loan and go to a big school, or get my education at the cost of dodging bullets. I just keep my hair short because it's low maintenance and wear my tags because they've got my medical information on them and I don't like things on my wrists. Not that I need them now, but old habits die hard. I won't be wearing hats with division patches any time soon, but he might find me at a firing range sometime because I always did enjoy marksmanship. I thank him for the links to the various veteran's organizations, and quietly discard them.
|
||||
|
||||
We have a good conversation, going back and forth about various things, and I admit that while service took many of my formative years I'd much prefer old tractors and mending fences. He suggests that I should look into an old country sort of sim, I agree so long as it isn't full of the kind of idiots I went to high school with. He suggests we meet up someplace and hang out once I've had some time to settle in. I tell him I'd like that idea, but I need a few days to work on myself. This old body has too many old scars and bad memories tied up in it, I might have to build a new one. He sends me some links to groups that help new uploads refine themselves. Fully half of them are obviously run by furries. I send him my thanks, and promise to ping him in a few days. He says he'll do it too if he doesn't hear from me first.
|
||||
|
||||
I remember hanging out with my sister's friends on the 'net after I was discharged, before my health fell off. Introducing myself as Mule, one of her friends paying an artist to do a picture of how I might look if I ever got an avatar like them. He was a good lookin' dude. Short gray-brown coat, short brown hair same as mine. Kinda faded to white around the front, around the mouth. Long ears, blue eyes like mine. Built like me but without the scars. No fucked-up nose, no mangled scars on his shoulder, no sternum-split marks in front. I stop in the bathroom mirror and take my shirt off, looking at myself. The reasons my shirts all tuck in and have sleeves to the elbows. Even if I'm not actually in pain, I'm full of memories of where the pain is supposed to be and that hurts instead. Maybe I should just relax, but I have nothing to do. Walk around town?
|
||||
|
||||
Nah. Not yet. Let's have a look a this apartment and all my stuff. Let's get some stuff in my closets and drawers. I open my dresser drawers and stuff is already there, underwear and socks, jeans and shorts. Except the junk drawer, that one is empty. I guess collected useless random shit I can't bear to throw out has to be generated manually. That's fine. I stop to think about the links to the new upload assistance groups and kind of wish they were actual pamphlets. Now the pamphlets are in my junk drawer. First time for everything. I used to keep the envelope with the sketch in there too, the thick brown paper with the graphite and colored pencil mule guy on it. I can see it in my mind. I freeze, then look at the drawer and slowly open it.
|
||||
|
||||
There is an envelope in there, plain manila, split at the end where I opened it with my pocket knife. I reach in and draw it out, the return address is blurry and illegible. That's probably because I don't remember what it was, but the artist's name is perfectly clear. I pull the contents out, two slips of cardboard with a paper between them. The piece, for as well as I remember it, snatched out of my memory and put into my two hands.
|
||||
|
||||
<figure>
|
||||
<a href="/img/sierra.png" target="_blank"><img src="/img/sierra.png" alt="A mule leaning against a fence railing" /></a>
|
||||
<figcaption>Sierra "Saint" Gifford — Art by <a href="https://brushandtea.com">Julian Norwood</a></figcaption>
|
||||
</figure>
|
||||
|
||||
I have to stop and consider this for a while. This place is powerful. This place is *incredibly* powerful. Do not genuinely imagine the kinds of horrors that could be wrought with this kind of power. The kind of weapons that could be brought to bear.
|
||||
|
||||
You can't just do that in public unless you have unrestricted ACLs for the area. Well, that makes things suddenly a whole lot less terrifying. That's good. Thank you again, new upload information stream.
|
||||
|
||||
With my nerves mostly settled I finally find some time to just sit and go through the feeds, look at all the forums. Well, not all the forums but a bunch of forums. Tools to find sims, tools to find friends, tools to find sims where you might make friends. Public meeting houses, public meeting sims, the strange nigh-eternal road of nothing but coffee houses. At some point I started yawning, and finally noticed the passage of time while I was buried in exploring the world accessible from my apartment balcony. The air had cooled, the city had quieted, the sky had darkened. I headed inside and closed the sliding balcony door, walked around and turned some lights off, retired to the bedroom, set my clothes on a chair, and slid into bed. It feels so good, cool sheets warming with my body heat, wrinkling and conforming around me, the lack of any real sort of strong pain. Just some soreness that I was so accustomed to feeling at night that I seemed to have generated it for myself.
|
||||
|
||||
The morning came with all the fanfare of warm sunshine through the windows, whatever default public sim my windows and balcony look out into is having a nice day. I push the windows open and let the air run through the screens, slide the balcony door open, make some breakfast. Eggs and sausage, fresh from the fridge. Part of me keeps trying to say the place isn't real, but the rest of me is quick to remind me that it doesn't have to include suffering to exist. Lagrange station is an actual place, we're on an actual machine, conscious inside that machine, living our lives in wonderland. Is that not enough? It apparently is, because the eggs and sausage are wonderful, the coffee is fresh and fragrant from my little single-cup machine with my little self-refilling spin rack of flavored brew cups. The part of me that was screaming "this can't be real" was doing the same thing when that rocket hit the dozer cab, and I know how that turned out.
|
||||
|
||||
Shut the fuck up, stupid miserable disbelief voice. This is life now, I have free coffee and pizza for eternity. Suck it. Be miserable somewhere else, I can be alive here. I *am* alive here, and just to prove the point I'm gonna make it more unreal. I stand up and march over to my dresser, to my junk drawer. Withdraw the fliers, take only the furry ones with me, put the others back. Take the art with me too, I'll need that. Classes are six days a week, starting at 10am. Well, today isn't Sunday and it's basically shortly after sunrise. Is it the same time in every sim? Quick check. The digital flier link says the time displayed is referenced to your own local time, so regardless of what your time is if you make the hop over half an hour before you're pretty much guaranteed a start on the next class cycle. That's cool. I make a note for myself on how to check local time, and keep it on an easy-grab reference. It's currently five-thirty in the morning. Plenty of time to eat, get presentable, and get there really early and be nervous about it. Perfect.
|
||||
|
||||
Eat, clean up, have another cup of coffee, shave, get dressed, inspect myself in the mirror. Feeling brave, gonna wear a tank top under this nice beat-up canvas jacket I got. Yep, everything is still there. Including the barcode tattooed onto my neck during basic training...ugh. Eh, fuck it. Gonna change my whole everything later, let's not dick around with this stuff on a full belly and with no help in sight. I wonder if I can take a photo for posterity. Yes. In fact I can take a selfie without the mirror. There's a quick guide right here on how to do camera perspective snapshots. Well isn't this handy. Take a few for posterity and...oh look at this. Your original upload is hard saved as a backup in case you fuck up real bad, so you can always revert as long as you don't do a final all caps Quit because that wipes you clean off the System unless you have surviving forks. Good to know. Do not use the big Q command, that gun is always loaded. Well, the photos are already taken. I can paste them in an album or something later, or delete them if I get tired of them. Probably just file them off somewhere in case I forget. Yeah.
|
||||
|
||||
Cool. I am 100% ready to go. Let's hit this meeting, learn about how to do the big thing.
|
||||
|
||||
Can't wait for my sister to upload, I know she wants to. All her friends are going to upload too now that it doesn't cost any real money beside cleaning up your affairs before you leave. She'll shit a brick just coming up here and finding my ass walking around looking good feeling good. She'll have an absolute fit if I'm a goddamn actual mule when she gets here. This is gonna be great. Look over the fliers, let's see. Predators inc yeah no, bird's nest, dragons and fantasy promising but not right let's see yoooooo this one is at an actual farm. Fuck yeah. Focus on the location and...bang!
|
||||
|
||||
Got it in one!
|
||||
|
||||
Just unlatch the gate from this little landing area outside the fence and...unlatch the gate. The gate. Unlatch...shit. It's locked. Is the flier old? Did the place close? Take a look over the fence, no there's definitely some stuff happening in there. Hmm. Oh there's a sign. Read the sign, moron. Gates open at 0930 daily. Cool! That's not long to wait, it\'s only...0715.
|
||||
|
||||
FUCK!
|
||||
|
||||
God damn son of a bitch why do I always fucking do this. I throw the pamphlet on the ground and flop down, leaning my back against the gate. Shit fuck stupid mother fucker went running out of the apartment and can't do shit for two hours. Goddamn. I poke my foot out and drag the flier back over to myself, dust it off and cram it into my pocket. Pull my art out of the big inside pocket of my coat, look at it. Hmm. Soon enough. Tuck it away. Pick a long stem of grass that's gone to head, chew on it to keep from mumbling too much.
|
||||
|
||||
Click.
|
||||
|
||||
Wuh?
|
||||
|
||||
Waugh!
|
||||
|
||||
The gate opens behind me and I fall flat on my back. Oof. Look up. There is a leg next to my head. A hoof. A very big hoof. Attached to a very tall...mare. I think. Reddish chestnut lookin' horse lady. I smile sheepishly.
|
||||
|
||||
"Hi."
|
||||
|
||||
She looks down at me a little sideways and steps back. "Can I help you? We don't generally even start taking early birds till nine."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh! Yeah sorry about that. It's just..." I sit up and scramble up to my feet, and I am still looking up at this woman. I am five foot eleven now that I can stand up straight. God damn she's tall. Dig the pamphlet out of my pocket. "Is this the right place? I kinda generally get up before the crows and I got all pumped up to get out here even though it says right in the pamphlet you're not open for another couple hours. I ain't got shit else going on so I said fuck it I'll just hang out till whenever. Nice sunrise and all."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure is. So you're here for the new upload species change classes then?"
|
||||
|
||||
"You bet."
|
||||
|
||||
"Cool. Well since I'm already standin' here and curious, what'cha supposed to be? Wait lemme guess. You're here early as shit, rarin' to go and starin' me over like ya seen a ghost. Collie? You got the energy for it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Nope, not even close."
|
||||
|
||||
"Huh. Ram? Bull?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Nope nope."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh god. Stud?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Nearly, but no."
|
||||
|
||||
"Uhh...gelding?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Not exactly closer, but sort of."
|
||||
|
||||
"You're a fuckin' jack? We don't get a lotta donkeys."
|
||||
|
||||
"Damn near!" I grin big and yank the art out of my coat pocket and hold it up for her. "Mule! Mammoth Jackstock cross."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well hot shit. So then you ain't up here tryin' ta get friendly with the cows and the mares and all the cute little sheep huh?"
|
||||
|
||||
"No ma'am. Thick head, strong back, not worth a fuck in the sack."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh my fuckin' word you're a hundred percent for real." She whips around and cups a huge hand alongside her mouth and hollers toward the farmhouse. "HEY ANNABELLE!" She pauses. "Yeah I know it's typical yeah she's a Holstein don't say a damn word about it she's the sweetest lady you're ever gonna meet."
|
||||
|
||||
A face pops into the kitchen window, a bovine face. "HEY JENNA-MAY WHAT'S UP!"
|
||||
|
||||
"YOU AIN'T GONNA BELIEVE THIS!"
|
||||
|
||||
"AIN'T GONNA BELIEVE WHAT?!"
|
||||
|
||||
"I FOUND A MULE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE DAMN GATE!"
|
||||
|
||||
"WE AIN'T GOT ANY MULES ON THIS FARM JENNA-MAY!"
|
||||
|
||||
The mare grins. "This is like a daily ritual except usually I'm yellin' outta the henhouse at her 'cause we got the dumbest fuckin' rooster." *ahem* "WELL WE GOT ONE FOR TODAY I RECKON!"
|
||||
|
||||
"WELL GOD DANG BRING HIS ASS UP HERE THEN WE GOT SHIT TO DO!" Heh heh. "You heard the lady, lock the gate behind ya and let's get going. You mind a little farm work? I bet we can get you fixed up in about an hour, put a round 'a breakfast in you and you can help herd the first round of newbies for the day."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well I already ate breakfast so you don't have to-"
|
||||
|
||||
She cuts me off. "Yeah yeah sure but judgin' by your skinny ass and the fact I'm lookin' at a drawin' of an eight foot jack built like an Allis-Chalmers I reckon you gonna be hungry by the time we get done working you over. Speaking of, you any good with equipment? We could use a reliable hand around this place and you're covered in scars and got a barcode on your neck."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well ma'am you got the right guy 'cause I was eight years Construction Battalion 'til someone hit me with a rocket. I can run anything from a pallet jack to a wheel loader to a long-reach excavator to a D9 dozer and most anything else that moves if you give me a little time to fuck with it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Damn, son. Your head ever make it back home?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Shit that's one way of putting it. I'm happily retired but the shrap and the chemicals fucked me up so hard the government paid me to upload 'cause it was cheaper than medical support."
|
||||
|
||||
"Fuck me that's rough."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure is. I was in a bad way when I uploaded but it's been night 'n day so far. Literally like about 24 hours." We walk up to the farmhouse together, I'm kind of amazed to see actual chickens running in the yard and regular fluffy sheep milling around in a pen waiting to be let out. Not to mention the sheep-woman dressed like a shepherd, crook and all, tending to them with a rigidly attentive border collie at her heels.
|
||||
|
||||
"This place is kind of amazing."
|
||||
|
||||
"We like it. So barely 24 hours on the System and you've had enough of humanity already."
|
||||
|
||||
"I've had enough of a lot of shit, really. I'm sick of looking at this messed-up body in the mirror, my sister and all her friends are furry type folks and I got to hanging out with them. I just called myself Mule online and one day she got me that picture as a gift. I always thought it was cool and when I finally got up here I realized I don't know anybody except other vets and damn it I don't wanna spend eternity sitting around talking about the wars. I wanna do something decent with myself, something besides eight years catching bullets and building roads. They're gonna try to upload over the next year, so I asked my friend Greg from the upload room about some stuff and he sent me some links. I figured fuck it, let's do this whole new life thing for real."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well if you're tired of it we can sure work on getting you changed up, bet we can even get some farm tags to change out for them dog tags, put whatever name you like and all that shit on them and once the tats are gone and you're a big ol' boy ain't nobody gonna be brave enough to ask."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sounds good to me. Maybe I won't need that little apartment in town after all. Sure is cozy though."
|
||||
|
||||
"Aw that ain't no thing. We'll just bug systech and switch your exits, turn it into one of our resident bungalows here. You won't even have to redecorate, but it will turn your balcony into a porch if you got one of the regular ones."
|
||||
|
||||
"Cool. So when do we start?"
|
||||
|
||||
She hands my art back to me and I stick it in my coat pocket. "Right now. I'm gonna get you into the front room and I want you to start real slow on the forks, no species stuff till I get back. Just frame up some. I just have to run the chickens out the coop and collect the eggs and I'll be back in to walk you through the hard part."
|
||||
|
||||
"That easy?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Man you've got reference material. That easy." She turns to the kitchen door after we get into the front room. "Hey Annabelle? I'm gonna leave him in here to get started changing up, stick your head in if he starts yelling or I get hung up in the yard or anything. He's got a reference but he's super fresh at it."
|
||||
|
||||
"You got it Jenny-Hay."
|
||||
|
||||
"C'mon not in front of the new guy."
|
||||
|
||||
"Sure thing, mm-hmm. You just get on with your chores we'll be just fine. Sugar you need anything while she's out you just holler or thump on the floor real hard or somethin' an' I'll come help. 'Kay?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes ma'am I can do that"
|
||||
|
||||
"Oooh he says it proper."
|
||||
|
||||
Jenna-May rolls her eyes and laughs, then heads out. "I'll be back quick as I can."
|
||||
|
||||
"Don't you go breaking any eggs trying to rush!"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes, ***mom***."
|
||||
|
||||
"Don't you sass me young lady!"
|
||||
|
||||
"I'm fifty years older than you!"
|
||||
|
||||
"That don't mean nothin'!"
|
||||
|
||||
I laugh. They are in fact shouting back and forth from the farmhouse to the hen house. Oh well. I slide my coat off and toss it over a chair, then peel my tank top up and off. Hmm. I can feel my own ribs really easy, guess all that time sick really did put a hurt on me. Anyway, time to fork. My first attempt arrives looking just like me, but minus the neck tattoo. I can do better. He quits. I fork again, confirm with old-me that all the tattoos are gone. Cool. He quits, I fork. Got a couple scars gone, put on some muscle mass. It's weird to think about, being me, then forking out of myself into a new me, leaving the old me there, but I kind of have to do it this way or I don't really get anywhere.
|
||||
|
||||
I didn't even hear her come in, just been bouncing back and forth between selves, making gradual progress, trying not to overdo anything or mess up real hard. I figure I'm pretty well taller and probably a hundred pounds heavier. She gets my attention as my last fork quits, and I realize I'm still looking up at her if not so severely.
|
||||
|
||||
"Not bad for a newbie. I'm gonna help you speed it up a little though. I want you eye to eye with me in two forks, and more shoulder. Make the jumps, don't worry about your clothes. And start thinking ungulate. You need to rearrange a bunch of shit. Your whole skull, your feet, parts of your hands, and anything else you got a thought for. Don't worry about your clothes, they'll change to fit, 'cept the ones you're not wearing, we can remake those later."
|
||||
|
||||
I pause to think, and give her a nod. Look down at the drawing. Yeah, that guy's belt is stock fence high. He's big, I gotta be big. I did say Mammoth Jackstock cross. I look up at her, then down at the art, close my eyes, really form it up in my mind, put some effort into it, and fork out of myself.
|
||||
|
||||
"Whoa, shit son I think you worked it out."
|
||||
|
||||
I open my eyes and realize I'm a couple inches taller than her and built to boot. "Oh, fuck." Hey whoa my voice is more resonant too, that was unexpected. My proportions are off though, but I fork a few times, each time hopping out of myself until there's eight of me with her and I've got a nice fuzzy coat starting to come in. One more time and my nose is starting to drift away from my skull and reshape in the process. I look to her, she nods. All my other forks quit.
|
||||
|
||||
A few more forks in she pauses me, takes my hand, and holds it up to her own face. "I know it's tough to imagine how it's gonna feel, so I want you to get the contour of my head. You're gonna be a big boy with a big straight Roman nose and a stand-up mane. Get your ears up, get them long, keep bulking up. You got the frame but not much on it. Think farm hand, not body builder."
|
||||
|
||||
She's amazingly patient as I spread my palms and feel the way her snout runs off the front of her skull, the lines of her jaw, the muscles, her neck. I don't go any lower though, we're barely friends after all. I step back, I fork again. That didn't work. The fork quits. I fork again, pulling out of myself with a more structured face. She gives me a nod, then flexes at me and points at her bicep, and smirks. I roll my eyes and get back to work. Ten more forks and I think I've gained at least a couple hundred pounds but I still look kind of lean and starved.
|
||||
|
||||
"Barrel chest, brother. Lots of neck. You'll get there. Big hooves too, start working on those." She holds her hand up to mine. "You should be bigger and rougher than me, I'm a quarter horse mix and you're a damn draft jack."
|
||||
|
||||
Keep forking, lose the boots. The transition from feet to big heavy hooves is a little jarring, but the shape change forces my body to rebuild the shape from the thighs down and it changes the musculature all the way up my back. My ears come up, my hands get thicker, my everything gets thicker. I picture it in my mind. Not steps any more. Just picture the whole guy, the entire jack. The big \`ole boy. Hold it, hold him in my mind. Be him. The next fork is a big leap, I stumble back and lean against the wall. My old self even looks surprised.
|
||||
|
||||
"Hot damn, you did it. I did it. Well, I guess you did it. You get what I mean."
|
||||
|
||||
"Yeah. We good?"
|
||||
|
||||
He nods and quits. I look at her. "Yeah?"
|
||||
|
||||
She gives me a once-over, then gently swats me in the belly. "Put some fat on, you're a farm hand."
|
||||
|
||||
I laugh and oblige, a few forks later and she has me turn around. She nods approvingly, all my other forks quit.
|
||||
|
||||
"Good?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Good for now. You look proper, but if it were my doing I'd do your mane up taller. Jacks look good with s'more fuzz between the ears, but that's just my thought."
|
||||
|
||||
"I'll let it grow out naturally and see how I like it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Compromise, that's how you get along with the boss mare. So how about it, I know what your system name says but what's your name-name?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, uh. Well. I was thinking Sierra."
|
||||
|
||||
"As in like the Sierra Padre range?"
|
||||
|
||||
"As in Sierra Tango. My old crew used to call me Saint, Sierra Tango is alphanumeric for S-T."
|
||||
|
||||
"Ah, gotcha. Hmm. I mean it's your name, but would you hold it against me if my brain hangs onto Sierra Padre? Because you're kind of a fucking mountain."
|
||||
|
||||
"I'll deal with it." I pick up my size-medium tank top and hold it up, realizing exactly how fucking tiny it really is against me now, and snap it away. My jacket though, I conjure up an appropriately sized new version and fish my stuff out of the pockets of the old one. Slide it on, re-pocket my art and the pamphlet, and snap the tiny jacket away. One hand goes reflexively up to my tags, which have sized up with me because I wasn't thinking about keeping them standard. Oh well. I vanish my boots and socks, looking down at my new massive hooves and learning to work my equally new tail. "So uh, what next?" My ears brush the ceiling and I realize since my legs changed now I'm near a full head taller than her.
|
||||
|
||||
She gives me a grin and looks down too, and hmms. "Well. We'll worry about getting you fitted for shoes later, the farrier will be around this week. You can go natural till then, won't hurt anything. Just don't go splitting them on anything or being stupid."
|
||||
|
||||
"No guarantees on the stupid part, I can be dumb as a rock sometimes."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well at least you're aware of it. Breakfast?"
|
||||
|
||||
"You were right again. I could eat."
|
||||
|
||||
She steps into the kitchen and motions me to follow, so I do.
|
||||
|
||||
"Miss Annabelle, I'd like you to meet our new hire, Sierra. Sierra, this is Miss Annabelle."
|
||||
|
||||
"Ma'am." I give the pleasant-seeming Holstein lady a nod as she turns around. "Pleasure to meet you."
|
||||
|
||||
She leans a spoon in a pan and turns to see, expecting someone at eye level and instead looking me in the chest before looking up. "Well hot damn Jenna-May you said you hired a new mule, I didn't realize you meant a daggum full blown big boy capital J Jack. You fixin' to come on full time and move house?"
|
||||
|
||||
I can't help but hem a little and run a hand through my hair, pushing my ear back with it. "Well ma'am I'm new around but I've got two hands and nothin' to do and plenty of time to do it. Miss Jenna-May said a bit about moving my place into a bungalow or something, but I'm not gonna put anyone out for the trouble at least 'til I get familiar around here."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh you'll fit right in just fine if you keep acting like that." The chestnut mare grins. "Now sit your butt down and eat some breakfast. Miss Annabelle runs the house and the cows. You saw Dottie heading out with the sheep when we came in. I run the rest of the herds, the chicken house, and the gardens. I'm starting you on the hay fields, the storage barn, and the equipment shed. The guys have been saying we should quit using constructs to do all that but we just never found the right hand 'til I heard you cussing my gate. We can keep a couple around as long as you need the help, but I'll show you how to bring 'em on and dismiss them just the same. The dogs and the other farm hands will be here with the early bird gate at nine."
|
||||
|
||||
Miss Annabelle throws down a traditional Southern breakfast the likes of which I've never seen, and if I'm being honest I packed away more biscuits, gravy, hash browns, ham, eggs and toast in one sitting than I figure I could've done in a whole week before. Never in my life have I ever seen someone so happy to watch someone pound back a meal, but it sure did happen. She got real bubbly and promised to keep me fed if I promised to work it off every day and I'm not sure what got into me but I kissed the back of her hand and told her she had a deal. I thought she might pass out and I'm fairly sure Jenna-May about died on her feet when I did it. Later on I was informed that she's recently separated and gets a little hot under the collar for gentle giant types. About that same time I found out that Jenna and Dottie were lesbians and both older than either of us by a long shot.
|
||||
|
||||
Well, I promised to be cool around the farmhouse and try not to charm her out to the hay barn even by accident. I wasn't sure if I was expecting the cow shed to be full of a gaggle of cow girls or what, but sure enough what came out the gates was about a hundred head of mixed beef and dairy cattle. The regular kind you could still find back phys-side here and there. A half dozen dog-folks of various working breeds arrived shortly after breakfast to pick up various jobs around the farm since the business of precision forking had picked up and Jenna-May has been spending lots of time teaching classes in that, as well as good farming and gardening classes for humans interested in getting their hands dirty. Surprising to me, but not incredibly so when I considered how many of my old squad came from absolutely barren chemical flats and deserts.
|
||||
|
||||
I was talking to the young gearhead of a dalmatian that had been trying his damnedest to get their ancient baler put back together before it was time to mow again, when I heard Jenna-May holler at me to please go open the front gate and lead the students to the schoolhouse barn by the farmhouse. It was already getting warm for the day so I left my coat in the equipment shed and headed over.
|
||||
|
||||
She had told me not to tell anyone that I had just changed myself up that morning, since it doesn't go quite so easily for most folks. It seemed simple enough to me, and I was startled plenty by the excitement of the dogs to have a jack around the farm. I was not prepared for the reactions of a dozen furries in their twenties and half a dozen gardening ladies in their fifties to the sight of me strolling down the path in just my blue jeans and belt. It was also about that time that I realized the various dog boys they had working around the farm were in fact not particularly small, but rather that I was probably never going to fit into my apartment again. Jenna-May promised she'd ask her sim-building friend to come by and help me put something up next to the tractor shed this week. Until then I was welcome to sleep in the hay loft.
|
||||
|
||||
It was a few days later when I was getting ready to meet a nice skunk woman about erecting a log cabin just big enough to be comfortable for someone like me, when I got a mail ping. Sure enough it was Greg. I had meant to send him a message later but as usual he got to me first. Just asking how I was and what I was up to, if I had found anywhere to be or met anybody. Well I snagged Jenna-May and a couple of the dogs for a photo by their big orange Massey loader tractor and sent it to him with a "Doin' just fine, think I'll make it out here." He sent me a big laugh back, "Guess you made it out there and never left, huh? I figured they'd help you out but I didn't guess they'd bring you on as hired help! You look good! I should come visit."
|
||||
|
||||
I told him he's welcome any time, I should have a new house put up by the end of the week 'cause I don't fit in the apartment any more. He said he'll send over a few housewarming gifts and swing by on Saturday.
|
||||
|
||||
You bet, friend. I haven't felt so alive in twenty or thirty years. I owe you one.
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||
156
content/stories/hues.md
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156
content/stories/hues.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,156 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Hues
|
||||
author: "[Madison Scott-Clary](https://makyo.ink)"
|
||||
plainAuthor: "Madison Scott-Clary"
|
||||
character: "True Name — 2350"
|
||||
spoiler: "*Mitzvot:* high"
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues.
|
||||
|
||||
I see Ioan and May Then My Name sitting together on the bed, cross-legged and touching. I do not think they even realize that they are doing so, that they have set their hands next to the other's, that their pinky fingers overlap.
|
||||
|
||||
I see Ioan with eir sun-lightened hair and sun-darkened skin and marvel the ways in which the thirds of me see this: one third has cataloged it as a unique pointer to a past of climate refugees that I will never know, one third judges the ways in which ey blends with eir surrounding, and one third... Well, down that path lays too many conflicts.
|
||||
|
||||
I see May Then My Name trying to hide sleep-addled emotions beneath pillow-mussed fur. I see the way she remains at all times conscious of her body, its extents, its softened boundaries. I see the way some small sliver of her mind continually runs through a checklist of appearance she will never even admit to herself, a litany of reassurances that she is the right level of cute, the right level of innocent, the right level of earnest.
|
||||
|
||||
I remember that checklist more clearly than she does, I think. I remember thoughts flickering to whiskers — bristled or no? — to ears — should I perk them? — to weight — a little slouch will show as rolls, but in a good way — and back again.
|
||||
|
||||
And I see myself recorded in their eyes. I see the way Ioan is buffeted about by the competition between eir need to help and eir growing confusion over who I have become. I see a tempest swirl in May Then My Name\'s eyes.
|
||||
|
||||
"Heading outside?" Ioan asks.
|
||||
|
||||
I am struggling to keep myself present. My mind is a jagged mess of tangled wires and unfocused lenses. I nod. "Yes. I will need an hour or so of nothing but the morning and the grass."
|
||||
|
||||
"Of course," ey says.
|
||||
|
||||
May adds, "Take the space you need."
|
||||
|
||||
I feel something akin to love press flush against something akin to shame. I hide it with humor. This is a new thing\... "Thank you, dear. If you cook breakfast, I will refrain from telling Ioan embarrassing stories."
|
||||
|
||||
"Asshole." She laughs. "Where did this humor come from?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Your guess is as good as mine, at this point."
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues as I step outside, holding my coffee close against the chill of the morning. The deck is cold beneath my paws, and the sim feels fresh, new in a way that it is not to any of the three of me.
|
||||
|
||||
I do not linger. I have a task.
|
||||
|
||||
Instead, I step carefully and deliberately down the stairs from the balcony and into the cool and dew-heavy grass. This, too, is cold on my paws, and I remember a conversation with Ioan some weeks back about the joys of winter. I remember it as though around a corner: indistinct. I remember it as though overhearing it in a quiet bar: murmured.
|
||||
|
||||
The remembered conversation is in place, settled alongside memories of me working on the tent with Deberre and memories of me working alongside Zacharias and Jonas.
|
||||
|
||||
It is a dangerous memory, for how innocuous it is. It is too hot to touch directly just yet, for neither May Then My Name nor I anticipated just how many of her memories around Ioan are love-colored, just how many bear the new hues through which I see the world. There is so much love in that conversation, so much love in em saying, "Well, if you ever wore shoes..." That aposiopesis is an I-love-you directed at May Then My Name.
|
||||
|
||||
I remember it directed at me.
|
||||
|
||||
It is dangerous, and it will be dangerous work to grapple with it. All of these memories are in place; it is just the weight of conflicts that I am left with.
|
||||
|
||||
The dew from the grass quickly soaks my feet, and I can tell my pads will be numb by the time my task is complete. As it is, the fur all the way up to the hems of my slacks is wet, and my slacks themselves halfway up my calves are already soaking through.
|
||||
|
||||
But I have a task before me. My pace is slow, deliberate. My breath is bated, anxious. My mind is keenly focused on maintaining a distance from the bruised cloud of conflicting memories in order to make it through the coming conversation.
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues. The pale green and tan of the grass makes me crave anise cookies. The delicate blue of the sky — so much more delicate than I remember! — makes me thirst for cool water. The dull green of the tent before me, shining with the same dew that marks me, makes my stomach ache. I have never seen the world like this before.
|
||||
|
||||
My pace is slow and deliberate, but it is not sneaky. I make as much noise as is appropriate, and what is appropriate is the sound of footsteps. I know how to muffle those, how to set the sounds I make aside, both through a cone of silence and through the bushcraft I have picked up through someone else's hard-won knowledge. But right now, the morning needs footsteps.
|
||||
|
||||
True Name needs footsteps.
|
||||
|
||||
The nose that pokes out of the tent to greet me when I am a few paces away is my nose/not my nose. The face that follows is my face/not my face. The dark brown of the eyes, the black of the fur, the white of the mane, all mine/someone else's.
|
||||
|
||||
I have never felt this split after a merge before. I have never felt this split before, *period*, not since I was Michelle and also Sasha, names that are not my own. I am still True Name as well, yes?
|
||||
|
||||
Am I?
|
||||
|
||||
This skunk before me looks out into the world with the same eyes I have, and yet they do not see the same hues. She bears the same exhaustion on her face from the same sleepless night I have had, and yet she is not tired for the same reasons.
|
||||
|
||||
I wave a small camp chair into being before the fire pit she has/I have built, set my coffee aside, and begin the task of lighting the fire for us.
|
||||
|
||||
She watches from the tent, silent.
|
||||
|
||||
The crack of the tinder on my paws echoes both familiarity and unfamiliarity within me as I break it down. I have done this so often before — daily for years and decades — and yet one third of me has not started a fire more than a handful of times in all that time.
|
||||
|
||||
I build my small pyre, and still the skunk in the tent watches, silent.
|
||||
|
||||
Finally, once the fire licks up along the tinder with washed out tongues of flame, I pick up my cup of coffee and offer it to her. We both need it, but she deserves it more.
|
||||
|
||||
She nods warily, eyes never leaving me as she steps from the tent to accept the mug, dreaming up a chair for herself across the fire from me, and together we build it up the rest of the way, at least enough for an hour's warmth.
|
||||
|
||||
"You look well," she says at last. Her tone is tired above all else, but beneath that exhaustion lies something uncomfortable.
|
||||
|
||||
I nod, marveling at the subtle intonations, marveling at the way my heart reaches ever outward along lines of interpersonal relationships. I marvel at how much those three words make that ache in my stomach twist into a sharper pain, an anxiety, a need. I need to address this. I *need* to address her discomfort, her exhaustion. I *need* to take her all up into my arms and let her warm herself against me, be the safe space for her to weep. I *need* to prove the love for her I cannot avoid in myself.
|
||||
|
||||
I see the ways in which she would resent that if I did so now, but then, I see the world in new hues.
|
||||
|
||||
So I just nod and instead say, "I am tired, but yes, I am well."
|
||||
|
||||
She looks down to the fire, sips her coffee. "Good."
|
||||
|
||||
"How are you feeling, dear?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Tired."
|
||||
|
||||
I shake my head. "How are you feeling about this? How are you feeling about yourself?"
|
||||
|
||||
She looks up without lifting her snout, and that uncomfortable tension within her grows all the more evident. "About myself?"
|
||||
|
||||
I nod.
|
||||
|
||||
"I am feeling broken," she says, gaze once more dropping. "I am feeling cracked in two, with only the whims of reality keeping me in one piece. I am feeling the world falling out from under each of my footsteps. I am feeling broken."
|
||||
|
||||
"I think–"
|
||||
|
||||
"I look at you," she says, interrupting, "and I *know* that I am broken. The crack was there before today, but I look at you and I know that, no, I am not cracked like some mug on the shelf, I am broken."
|
||||
|
||||
This time, I remain silent, settling into a part of me that is new. I am helpless before this change, helpless before the feeling of True Name stepping back, of End Waking disappearing into the woods, of May Then My Name leaning forward. I remain silent and watch my other self carefully, feeling that line of connection between us tug harder, demand an embrace.
|
||||
|
||||
There was a time nearly two centuries ago when five/six people sat on the grass, when May Then My Name and In Dreams and Hammered Silver and End Of Endings sat before Sasha/Michelle and talked about the end of the Council of Eight, about True Name and Jonas taking over the world, about being a dead woman walking. That of True Name in me does not remember this from any previous merge, so it must have been just after the last time May Then My Name merged down.
|
||||
|
||||
I remember watching Michelle/Sasha struggle to speak, to live, to exist. I remember her form shifting. I remember her having a bad day. I remember watching her and having to exercise every iota of restraint to not go in for a hug.
|
||||
|
||||
I overlay that memory here, and the similarities shine through overbright.
|
||||
|
||||
I hold myself back and say instead, "Is there a place in the world for broken you?"
|
||||
|
||||
She winces away from the question, shoulders drawing in. I am not surprised when she shakes her head. I do not think either of us are.
|
||||
|
||||
"And how does that feel, True Name?"
|
||||
|
||||
She coughs. Or laughs. I cannot tell which. "Do not call me that."
|
||||
|
||||
"What shall I call you?"
|
||||
|
||||
"'Nobody'. Call me Nobody so that when you speak of me, you say that Nobody is tired quite like me."
|
||||
|
||||
Heart aches. "Is that, then, how it feels, Nobody?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I do not care how it feels." She straightens up and meets my gaze, half-smile touching her features, and I can see the energy it takes for this broken me to do so. "What I care about now is if it was worth it."
|
||||
|
||||
"'It'?"
|
||||
|
||||
"The merge." Her tone is earnest, kind, even as the words come urgently. "Is who you are now worth everything that was done to us? Is it worth 106 knives in the back? Is it worth May Then My Name destroying us? Is it worth the way she killed, however kindly, the last remaining True Name?"
|
||||
|
||||
I sit back, startled.
|
||||
|
||||
There is a war within me. Opposing forces strive for primacy. That of May Then My Name begins to cry. That of True Name picks up on the resentment stated by my up-tree and slots it into her own reality.
|
||||
|
||||
I can see what she means. I can see the death of who I was in the face of who I became. I can see the love May Then My Name must have intended contrasted with the heartless way she accomplished this final nullification of True Name as she was.
|
||||
|
||||
But I see the world in new hues. I see the world with the knowledge of a conversation on the balcony in the seconds and minutes after End Waking's entire life was dropped unceremoniously on top of my mind.
|
||||
|
||||
*"I know a part of me was acting out of vengeance,"* she had said, and I know this to be true, but I know the truth in her stammering, *"I never wanted to hurt her."*
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues and with new context.
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes," I say at last. "Yes, it is worth it."
|
||||
|
||||
The True Name across the fire from me screws up her face and buries it in her paws, and now, I truly am unable to hold back. I crawl around the fire, kneel before her, and wrap my arms around her shoulders to hold her to my front as she weeps. As we both weep.
|
||||
|
||||
The wave of relief or sorrow or release or despair eases up and, eventually, she leans back. She leans back and looks searchingly at me, investigating every strand of fur on my tear-stained cheeks, and I do the same with hers. We sit for nearly a minute, noses all but touching. Then, without a word, she draws me into a hug and, once my arms tighten around her, she quits.
|
||||
|
||||
My arms collapse against my front.
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues as I soak in a brief wave of grief as this last vestige of that broken me disappears. I cry before the fire as I accept the merge easily, almost automatically.
|
||||
|
||||
I see the world in new hues and, just for a second, just for a glimpse as she stared into my face in those last moments, so did she.
|
||||
@ -1,9 +1,10 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Meeting of One
|
||||
author: Madison Scott-Clary
|
||||
character: Ioan Bălan — 2309
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Ioan Bălan — 2309
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan Bălan, despite all attempts to keep emself from sinking into the depths of whatever ey was studying, always managed to find emself mired in details ey could not hope to escape. They twined and twisted around eir wrists, tripped em up about the ankles, and tugged em ever deeper into the fractal complications of whatever topic ey decided would be the subject of eir next work.
|
||||
|
||||
*On the Perils of Memory*, the recent monograph ey had completed on an unnerving social breakdown in one of the old clades — those collection of individuals forked from a single uploaded consciousness — had garnered em no small amount of notoriety and plenty of credit on the reputation market.
|
||||
70
content/stories/millwright.md
Normal file
70
content/stories/millwright.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,70 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Millwright
|
||||
author: Andréa C. Mason
|
||||
character: Andréa C. Mason#Millwright — 2401
|
||||
spoiler: "*Marsh:* medium"
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
I need a break.
|
||||
|
||||
Even before uploading, I was the face. The spokesperson. The rep. The primary fronter in a plural system of at least nine. The fursona everyone knew, the friend, the organizer, the closeted kid who burst out of the closet a social butterfly. It worked, then. Whether I wanted it or not, I was good at it, when we could manage our mental health.
|
||||
|
||||
I was one of the headmates that pushed for uploading as our body failed and our loved ones dropped like flies.
|
||||
|
||||
Not being the front when we hit the System proper was a bit of a shock, but when we finally fanned out and forked into our separate headmate-y selves, I de facto became the Face of the Clade. Alex eventually ended up running everything, she was the part of us that likes keeping archives and all that, but I was expected to be head of social affairs. Even later, when my side gig became my main gig and I functionally became a clade unto myself, I was still expected to be diplomat and ambassador in turn.
|
||||
|
||||
That side gig turned sys-side career was a flush of kinks and dreams made real. After about a decade of careful planning and testing, we started a company. We forked endless versions of ourselves and sent them out into the world. We found a way to replicate the "synths" of phys-side fiction, and embraced it so thoroughly that it now takes exceptional effort to act fully organic. Here, we could live out the fetish of being mass-produced, effectively engaging in sex work in the process, but also live out the fantasy of helping whoever needed it and being able to bow out if things got unsafe or unstable.
|
||||
|
||||
As we expanded rapidly, some part of me felt a pull towards authenticity, and we decided to have a "brick and mortar" headquarters. We worked with several sim artisans to create the now-famous High Falls Millworks#46b147c4. We chose the name, location, and design based on a district of the town our great-great-great grandmother lived in called Brown's Race in Rochester, New York. Hundreds of years before even she was born, the city had made a name for itself off the mills powered by the waterfall and river nearby. We even went as far as to commission a meticulously crafted fully functioning triphammer forge, like the area once had. Her name was Andréa as well, and I took her name out of admiration. We also named our company 9IN INDUSTRIES as a nod to her favorite band.
|
||||
|
||||
Building a factory, one that made our production model look more complicated than "gather client specs and fork to those in another room", one that featured a convincing "assembly line", exploded our company overnight. We had to restructure on the fly, and that is where I forked from my downtree instance. The most continuous version of me, Andréa C Mason#Foundry, remained head of the company, but she forked me, Andréa C Mason#Central, to be the heart of it all. Yet again I found myself a face, communal voice, a spokeswoman and figurehead for this clade-within-a-clade we'd become.
|
||||
|
||||
My path from my downtree instance diverged quickly and wildly. I became less and less involved with any direct production or facsimile of such. I would fork for something, and then that fork would develop into an entire department. My forks spread out and I found myself not working with my hands all that much, really if at all. For our own safety and the safety of these so-called mass produced forks, we needed contracts, standards, and rules, inasmuch as those things are enforceable in a System largely without any governing body. We were up front that any version of us that was sent out had full rights to quit at any time for safety's sake, and having that in writing out up front prevented all sorts of headaches and worse. Thus one of the first departments we ever made was a Legal Department of sorts. We weren't in it for any sort of profit, by the nature of our project we were already swimming in rep, but we did want to get the message out there to more people. So, I forked a marketing version of myself, and they began a Sales and Outreach Department. We had a team for returning forks and merges down, specifically based around coping with loss, trauma, abuses that might have led them to leave, conflict resolution, contract disputes. We had an HR and Public Health Department. As our operation expanded, we needed sim artists, construct artists, experts in fields, professional engineers, so we made a Logisitics Department. We had an R&D team. Once we expanded far enough, we set up an Education and Training Department. When we'd flushed out the area around High Falls enough, we began to offer unused space up for development in the style of the buildings that had existed phys-side. We had a Real Estate and Zoning Department. #Foundry started out involved with a great deal of it, but she became more involved in the so-called "physical work", and even among the teams and departments that she founded, she trusted me to handle the ins and outs of people management. We had a surge in the early 2300s, at some point tracking over 100,000 forks, but those numbers waned in time, and we stabilized around the end of the century with about 64,000 "units" in service and me in charge of a whopping 6,000-person staff.
|
||||
|
||||
I tell people so often that I didn't like it, but the truth of it was, I was good at it, and for a while that was satisfying enough. We had built a company from the ground up, and I found myself at its peak. We had created an incredible corporation, one that had all the fantastic idealism of what a company could be, and because of the nature of the System, completely removed from the reality, brutalities, and consequences of what running an actual business phys-side caused. #Foundry and I were praisedlauded through parts of the System, conservatives lauding us as poster-children of capitalism, and liberals championed us as meritocracy in motion, proof that with ethics and smarts, businesses could treat both customers and employees with respect and kindness.
|
||||
|
||||
The occasional leftist would praise our unions and sex-positivity, that a post-human trans woman being head of anything still felt like something worth celebrating, and a few more condemned us for recreating a corporation wholesale inside a place that should have been an anti-capitalist's paradise, but overwhelmingly there was silence from the people that once, a long time ago, we had called comrades and stood shoulder to shoulder with both phys- and sys-side. Now it is my greatest shame, but even at the height of 9IN INDUSTRIES's success, it left a sour taste in my mouth. Couldn't they be happy for what we'd accomplished, what *I* had built? #Foundry was lauded as a mechanical genius, but I was the face and name of the company. I joked that the C of our middle initial stood for Central, I appeared in interviews and magazines, I gave talks and attended conferences. #Foundry was the inventor, but I was the entrepreneur, and at my worst I basked in it. After all, I—and my thousands of forks, but really weren't they just extensions of me?— had worked so hard, I had *earned* my success.
|
||||
|
||||
A few partners left me over it. A few more I only knew through it. #Foundry had become more and more elusive over time, and even in CERES clade affairs and meetings and gatherings I began to take her place, forking and sending a merge down to keep her updated. I was two faces but one, perhaps the most well-known member of my clade, and the subclade of me within it. I was the ace of myself and my self. When the clade became embroiled in our Authority Crisis in the 2360s, I was the most affected and part of the fixes and rescues that followed. I was Andréa C Mason, and the #Central after my name was more a job title than a signifier.
|
||||
|
||||
We gathered, that night, as so many across the System did, to ring in the new century, to send the 2300s out with a bang and to ring in the brand new frontier of the 2400s. Our entire staff was on hand throughout the offices and facilities, and many who had outside the lives had brought Partners or friends, and it was a revelry for the ages! God, what a night!
|
||||
|
||||
What a night.
|
||||
|
||||
God, oh gods above and below, what a horrible night.
|
||||
|
||||
To say that my subclade was hit hard by the century attack does not give any sense of scale. I have talked with many a pathologist, perisystem architect, and number of other experts about it, and still we lack answers. We were not the origin, but we were a minor epicenter, and for whatever reason, the contraproprioceptive virus was particularly effective at dismantling us in bulk. We kept in close communication and had very accurate numbers for how many forks of us existed at any given time, we used sensoria and a variety of other methods to keep an incredibly tight and informed network, and within .000001% margin of error, there were 69,760 Andréa C Masons throughout the system on the night of December 31st, 2399.
|
||||
|
||||
By the time the dust settled, 12 of us remained, and of those 12, two quit within a week. 4 more crashed from grief in the next month.
|
||||
|
||||
I can't comprehend how to explain what it felt like to suddenly look at the clock approaching midnight again, to find myself alone in a room that had contained hundreds, almost alone in a sim that over 6,000 people had inhabited what felt like only moments before. To run panicked and slipping through streets laden with snow from accurate weather sims, with no pawprints or hoofprints but my own, to find #Foundry alive and sobbing, to find 2 other forks, bewildered and dissociating, to become inundated with thousands of requests for help, of anger, asking what they had done wrong or if they had violated the contract or what had happened, and having no answers for any of them. Finally, #Foundry sent a mass message to the feeds within a day, and 9IN INDUSTRIES shuttered, now likely never to reopen.
|
||||
|
||||
#Foundry nearly quit when she found out that not only had we suffered impossible losses, but through some mechanism we did not and still do not understand, caused further ones. If you were in proximity to a fork of Andréa C Mason when the Century Attack happened, there was an 85% chance that you died as well. Of the hundreds of visitors and inhabitants of High Falls Millworks#46b147c4 that night, not a single one survived. We were a *vector*, somehow. One of us quit and three of us crashed over that fact. Where do we even start to recover from this?
|
||||
|
||||
Partly, we just won't. We have our different reasons, but as the two leaders of our now defunct corporation, #Foundry and I have made the agonizing choice that we will not rebuild. We talked for days, sitting on our faithful reproduction of the Pont de Renne bridge, watching the falls roar and the sun rise and set, taking turns sobbing into each other's arms. Almost two centuries of work disappeared in what was to us an instant. We could not start again. It's over.
|
||||
|
||||
#Foundry has now taken my place in clade affairs. She wants to reconnect with her cocladists which are her siblings and her former headmates, which are the closest thing she has ever had to a family here and now the only family she has left. She struggled even to fork, although I understand that after an incident with getting her head stuck in a pitcher of fruit punch she is relearning the trade. #Foundry is eschewing her reclusivity that marked so much of the back half of the 2300s, and trying to reconnect with her own "humanity" again, insomuch as a clade full of animals can have such a thing. I think it's good for her. She is, in the end, the most continuous version of me, and she should remember what it's like to be a person again. An individual. How to be Andréa instead of Director Mason.
|
||||
|
||||
As for me?
|
||||
|
||||
I'd like to pretend the change that I'm about to make is some Grand gesture of atonement and a reawakening of class consciousness. It's certainly in play, I'm not going to pretend it isn't. Look at me, the turncoat, the hypocrite, the working class anarchosyndicalist queer phys-side turned girl boss captain of industry sys-side, who cast aside her morals and consciences with the slightest bit of success. I'd been so hard before uploading on so many people for giving up everything they believed in for even a small amount of success, and more than a few cases nothing less than righteously so, but when I found myself in the same position I put them all to shame. I tell myself that again and again whenever The Dread or guilt or shame creep in, I tell myself that now is the chance to atone and to regain my class consciousness. And yeah, it is part of it.
|
||||
|
||||
It's a bigger truth, the one I hate to admit but cannot deny, is that I was so fucking bored and no idea bores me more than going back to being the socialite.
|
||||
|
||||
A simple concept that a lot of people seem to struggle with is that just because someone was really good at something, doesn't mean they like doing it. It is entirely possible to learn or understand innately the skills and necessities of a trade, to have a skillset or the tools to be really really good at something, and still get a little enjoyment out of performing that thing. My business may have vanished into the ether, but I still have all those social connections, I still have a reputation that precedes me hours in advance of me showing up anywhere, my fame and to some degree what you could call a fortune of social capital still exist, right there, waiting. If anything, if I chose to go back to that life and flourished again my legend and legacy would become even stronger, the determined woman who didn't let one of the greatest possible losses one could suffer slow her down, who pulled herself up by her bootstraps from nothing again, a phoenix, reborn in the mythology of good old protestant work ethic.
|
||||
|
||||
Even that in itself should fill me with disgust, but it only furthers my apathy. I took pride in a product I claimed I produced, despite how little I had to do with it actually being made, and that brought me the satisfaction that all the social engineering and handshaking and baby kissing and photo posing and being a people person didn't. The pageantry of rich people, of successful people, of this upper class is largely that. Pageantry. Their parties are dull, their social mores and customs and activities lack substance, nothing really happens that makes anything. There was never any struggle, there was barely any conflict, and it produced only an ennui in me that I did not see the size of until someone all but ended the world.
|
||||
|
||||
I want to work with my hands. I want to make things. I want to be alone, and I want to create. The people who made it what it was may be gone but High Falls Millworks#46b147c4 still exists. All its machines still function, and I'm going to take the time to learn to use every last lathe, forge, and press in here, and I'm going to *make* things. I want what I do to be tangible, to be meaningful, not words and nods and smiles and fuckings in the right place to keep things moving. I've hired a number of people to help me maintain the sim, but I have asked them largely to keep our relationship professional and distant , and when I finally feel satisfied that I am not just a voice and a face, maybe I'll even try seeing people again.
|
||||
|
||||
Until then, I ask you keep any requests or comments to yourself. I'm not going to be in a place to take commissions anytime soon, I just need to forge for myself for a little while. Hone some real skills.
|
||||
|
||||
Maybe this will go nowhere, and I'll just quit and merge down. More likely I'll individuate, but really, that's my business, not yours.
|
||||
|
||||
Also, ditching the old tag. Figure it's obvious why. Turn off the spotlight. Close the curtains. My monologue's over. The show must go on, but it can do so damn well without me.
|
||||
|
||||
Goodbye.
|
||||
|
||||
Andréa C Mason#Millwright.
|
||||
|
||||
375
content/stories/opportunity-paralysis.md
Normal file
375
content/stories/opportunity-paralysis.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,375 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Opportunity Paralysis
|
||||
author: Madison Scott-Clary
|
||||
character: Rena Hatch — 2368
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
I thought it would be different. I thought it would be cleaner, maybe. Cleaner, or far more grimy, all exposed pipes and puddles of unexplained liquids pooling in dark corners while the brittle lighting of shitty fluorescents flickered. Give me the clean LEDs over that, the well-polished linoleum and stainless steel, doctors with surgical gowns and nurses with fibrous paper booties strapped over their oh-so-comfortable shoes.
|
||||
|
||||
Saskatoon Central Upload Clinic was none of these. Where one might expect a hospital check-in desk, thick plexiglass separating the clientele from the assistants, there was a row of podiums, each bearing a tablet with a grip-bar beside it, a way to check in using the implants embedded on the middle joints of one's fingers. Where one might expect the cold, hard chairs, blessed with only the thinnest layer of padding, of a hospital waiting room, there were instead plush chairs and love seats upholstered in linen. Where one might expect cold and white bare walls, calm paintings and potted plants softened the cream-colored paint further, spider plants stringing trails behind water coolers.
|
||||
|
||||
Check-in is simple: slide my fingers around the grip bar until the magnetic contacts pull at those NFC pads embedded in skin. Wait as patiently as I can while the tablet whispers a series of disclaimers against my cochleae through the tendrils of my exo. Shift my weight anxiously from side to side and give my assent to the questions with a nod and a tap of the thumb.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand that uploading is irreversible.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand that uploading is destructive.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand that there's a risk. *There's a risk to staying behind, too,* I think, but carefully do not say.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand that the financial payout to designated next of kin will be-- cancel. No, there is no next of kin. If you're not going to let me will it to a charity or foundation, I guess the government can have it.
|
||||
|
||||
*Yes, I understand,* I indicate time and time again, perhaps two dozen times in total, then answer a short survey about who I am before I'm finally given a number and told to sit down.
|
||||
|
||||
The wait wouldn't be unbearable if it weren't for the lingering weight of import straddling my shoulders, a petulant child tugging at my hair and whining about how this is the wrong thing to do, that there's gotta be some better way, this is irresponsible. Ten minutes with that weight and those whispered words would be bad enough, but then we hit twenty. Thirty. It wouldn't be so bad if--
|
||||
|
||||
"Three twenty-seven? Ma'am?"
|
||||
|
||||
I jump at the interruption, looking up to the tired yet kindly eyes of the nurse. "Yeah, sorry," I reply. My own voice echoes strangely in my head, muffled by my own mask, and I realize it's been days since I've said anything aloud.
|
||||
|
||||
I follow them into the procedure room, where the scent of sterilizer and ozone lingers in the air, where the chair that reclines into a bench stands alone, where sets of tracks on either side of the chair lead to barely concealed doors in the wall. I follow their guidance in undressing. They don't give me a gown or anything, and standing in nothing but this awful body that shrivels at the touch of the cold clinic air is decidedly uncomfortable. I sit awkwardly on the chair/bed. The cover looks like fabric until it's touched, at which point the illusion is shattered when my fingers find it unpleasantly rubberized. Another reminder of my skin, of my very real, very ill-fitting body.
|
||||
|
||||
The discussion with the doctor is quick and to the point.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand this will take about half an hour.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand I'll be sedated but not asleep.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand that the point of no return is announced by a beep.
|
||||
|
||||
Yes, I understand, I understand, I understand...
|
||||
|
||||
They smile to me, just as tired as the nurse. "Hey," they say, bowing. "It'll be a jiffy. Seriously. Been a decade since our last failed upload."
|
||||
|
||||
"How many successful ones have you had since then?"
|
||||
|
||||
They shrug. "I do about seven or eight a day, there are five operating rooms, and we're open every day. Never was the best at math, but that's a lot of uploads."
|
||||
|
||||
The chair reclines automatically into a bed, and a faint whirr sounds behind me as the cabinets slide out from the wall from behind their subtle doors, revealing banks of what I imagine must be various scanners, instruments, tools, and whatever else is needed for the largely automated procedure.
|
||||
|
||||
There's a loud beep that fills the room, and the doctor says, "Last chance." Their voice is lazy, calm, hardly an imposition. It's the voice of someone unwilling to sway the listener, merely doing their job.
|
||||
|
||||
I shake my head, and that heavy import resting on my shoulders finally starts to slip, to slide free and drop away from me. The whining fades, the whispered suggestions that I'm doing the wrong thing become inaudible.
|
||||
|
||||
Here is a short list of things that are more unpleasant than the uploading procedure:
|
||||
|
||||
- I don't know, literal torture, maybe?
|
||||
|
||||
It's not that it hurts. The first thing they do is give me one hell of an analgesic, leaving my mind dream-fogged, and then they clip something to my implant's contacts that I'm guessing all but turns off my ability to feel pain.
|
||||
|
||||
It's that they leave the rest of me *on.* The smell is more intense than I'd care to admit. There's little I can see, but the sound is nauseating. I want to tell them to give me some fucking earplugs or something, but whatever's clipped to my contacts has inhibited motor control as well.
|
||||
|
||||
The worst, though, is the way my vision jitters and blurs through all of the work they do on my head.
|
||||
|
||||
And then, without warning, it's over.
|
||||
|
||||
I'm sure there's some sort of discontinuity, that some amount of time passes between when the procedure completes and when I find myself here, fully formed and conscious, in the orientation room. Or perhaps it really is instantaneous. A part of me wonders if there might be some form of the procedure continuing back in the surgical room, some final scan of my dy-- no, my *body's* dying nervous system, a place I no longer inhabit.
|
||||
|
||||
Relief. The success streak of the clinic will not be broken by me.
|
||||
|
||||
I wake on the floor of a nine-by-nine cube of what appears to be cool, gray stone blocks one meter on a side. I'm pleased to note the utter reality of the space. The stone is just that: stone. It isn't a rendering of stone, not a representation of stone, just...stone.
|
||||
|
||||
The light seems to come from nowhere, leaving only blurry and indistinct shadows around me as I push myself up to sitting, doing my best to ignore my nude body, less than ideal in so many ways. I've gotten quite good at that over the years.
|
||||
|
||||
"Greetings," says a soft voice behind me. I whirl around to see a short person with curly black hair, voice feminine and lilting. She's facing the other way, arms crossed before her. "I am facing the wall, as many here arrive unclothed. I am a construct --- a pretty face for a conversation tree --- and, while I will do my best to answer your questions, anything more difficult will wait until you can talk to a real person."
|
||||
|
||||
"O-oh. Uh," I stammer. I scramble quickly to my feet and cover my body with hands and arms. That she's facing away certainly helps, but still. "How do I get clothes?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I will walk you through the process of making those. It is part of a short tutorial series that will allow you to step into the System proper. Please close your eyes, think of your favorite outfit, and breathe in. As you breathe out, say, "I want to be wearing my favorite outfit," and smile."
|
||||
|
||||
"Smile?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes," she says. "We have found that this helps the newly arrived more smoothly project the intent to create something."
|
||||
|
||||
Frowning, I nod and close my eyes, imagining the frowsy cotton skirt and linen blouse that had always been my favorite. Earth tones. No patterns. Muted. A way for me to stay hidden and comfortable both. A way to be overlooked. I breathe in, dreaming of that skirt and blouse, and speak "I want to be wearing my favorite outfit" as a sigh on my exhale.
|
||||
|
||||
There isn't any change, at least not any immediately perceptible one. It's not like the clothes flow down over my shoulders like some sort of pleasant animation as I'd expect from a sim back on the 'net. When I look down, I'm just...clothed.
|
||||
|
||||
I'm once again taken aback by the sheer reality of the place. The linen of my blouse is just as I remember it, that well-beaten fabric almost plush between my fingers. The cotton of my skirt sways just as I expect as I turn to inspect it. The only difference seems to be that the colors are a little fresher than remembered, the hem of the blouse a little lower.
|
||||
|
||||
"I hear the swishing of fabric. May I turn around now, or do you need additional time?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, uh, you can turn around," I say.
|
||||
|
||||
Nodding, the woman turns, smiles, and bows deeply to me. "Welcome to Lagrange, Rena Hatch. You are in the orientation sim AetherBox#5287. Should you care about such, you are upload 21,529,358,059, but will ever be a unique and cherished soul aboard *et cetera, et cetera.*" She laughs. "The next step of the tutorial is to fork for the first time."
|
||||
|
||||
"I...what?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Forking is the process of creating a copy of yourself. This copy is a wholly independent person and is free to either live out their own life completely separate from your own, or to quit. Should they do the latter, you will have the option to merge some or all of their memories with your own."
|
||||
|
||||
"Why would I want to do that?"
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugs, stepping back to the wall to lean casually against it. "Oh, plenty of reasons. You might have an obligation while in the middle of pursuing a hobby, or overlapping invitations to events, or just for shits and giggles."
|
||||
|
||||
The casual demeanor and profanity catch me somewhat off-guard. She isn't what I expect from a construct. I find myself liking her immensely.
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, well. Sure, how do I do that?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Same as with your clothes. Close your eyes, hold in your mind the desire to fork, breathe in, breathe out, smile, say the words." A lopsided smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "You do not have to do all of that, mind. You can just do your best to project the intent to fork; you seem like a pretty savvy girl."
|
||||
|
||||
"You're one hell of a guide."
|
||||
|
||||
"Well, according to your file, the answers you gave on your survey, you are one hell of a woman."
|
||||
|
||||
I laugh. "What's your name?"
|
||||
|
||||
She smirks. "Fork, and I will tell you."
|
||||
|
||||
Snrk. Well, might as well. I do my best to keep the eye-closing and mumbling-to-myself to a minimum, instead taking a deep breath in and then...
|
||||
|
||||
"Well done, Rena," the guide says, grinning.
|
||||
|
||||
Beside me stands another version of myself. We both let out a startled laugh and take a half step away from each other. I work up the courage to lean in closer to my new instance and, after a moment, she does the same. We take a few moments to inspect each other's faces. I'm startled to see just how much the acne scars that pock my face crinkle my cheeks when I smile.
|
||||
|
||||
"Well I'll be damned."
|
||||
|
||||
"Neat, is it not?"
|
||||
|
||||
Both of me nod. My double --- it flashes into my head that she's named Rena Hatch#2a883de3, though how that comes to me, I haven't the faintest idea --- says, "So I can just go on living as I'd like?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Well, sure, but for the purposes of this exercise, I would like you to go ahead and quit. Same thing, desire to quit, yadda yadda."
|
||||
|
||||
"Isn't that kind of like dying?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Not really, no. It is a merging. Many call it 'merging down' rather than 'quitting' for that reason. Our answer to the teleporter paradox is..." She gives a Talmudic shrug.
|
||||
|
||||
Both of me laugh and, after a moment, where once Rena#2a883de3 stood, she is no longer. There's no sudden inrush of air, she simply isn't there anymore.
|
||||
|
||||
There's a sensation of *almost* remembering something, like a word that's right on the tip of my tongue, ready to be said or dismissed as not worth the effort.
|
||||
|
||||
I decide to remember it and there, suddenly, is the memory of popping into being, of suddenly seeing this guide from another point of view, suddenly seeing another version of myself --- me, the one who remained --- suddenly inspecting my own face, and then...well, then no more memories from that point of view.
|
||||
|
||||
"Weird."
|
||||
|
||||
The guide laughs. Weird to include that on a construct. "Again, you do not need to fork, or you can fork hundreds of times over. It is also used to change one's appearance --- simply fork while holding the desired change in your mind. Should you like to be shorter, to have thicker hair, well..." Another shrug.
|
||||
|
||||
*This* leaves me pondering. I barely listen through the remainder of the tutorial --- checking the time, checking the feeds, checking my current reputation balance, looking up information in the perisystem architecture --- as my mind circles around that ability.
|
||||
|
||||
I mean, of course there's the ability to change on the System. Right? Like, that was part of me uploading. Even if it required filling out forms in triplicate, there had to be a way to live the life I wanted up here, easier and more fulfilling.
|
||||
|
||||
I just hadn't imagined it would be dropped in my lap by an automated guide.
|
||||
|
||||
The sound of my name snaps me back to reality. "Uh, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I said 'welcome once more to Lagrange, Rena Hatch.' You have been provided with a starter boost of reputation. Feel free to look up housing on the reputation market, though you have been provided a room."
|
||||
|
||||
"How do I get to it?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Why, that is the final step in the tutorial, my dear. Project an intent to visit 'home'. This will work for any sim name you are provided, so long as it is either public or you have been invited by the sim owner." Another smile tickles at the corner of the guide's mouth. "For instance, if you would like a lovely cup of coffee, may I recommend The Alley Cat? You can find it at Old Town Square#58289a40."
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, well...alright. Thank you, I guess."
|
||||
|
||||
"My pleasure."
|
||||
|
||||
"Weren't you going to tell me your name?"
|
||||
|
||||
The construct bows. "You may call me what you wish, but I am patterned off one of my creators, Then I Must In All Ways Be Earnest of the Ode clade." I must look nonplussed, as the construct laughs, waving a hand dismissively. "You will learn, my dear. Please enjoy, and do not hesitate to ask for help on the new upload assistance feed."
|
||||
|
||||
I hesitate, bow back, and step out of the orientation sim with a wish.
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
Those early days are heady for me. I do indeed get a very good coffee at The Alley Cat, though not without a moment of embarrassment as I have to ask the constructs working behind the bar how to pay.
|
||||
|
||||
"No need," they say, sounding far less personal than the guide I'd met, more automated. "Reputation cost deducted automatically. No need."
|
||||
|
||||
Ah well. Like I said, pretty damn good coffee.
|
||||
|
||||
I spend a few days just poking around Old Town Square and its environs. At night, I step home to my little apartment, sleep for a while, browse the feeds, maybe take a shower. Then in the morning, I'm back to the public sim, poking through the various shops --- I spend the most time in the one specializing in impossible shapes --- or going for a hike up to the natural park environment just beyond the pedestrian mall.
|
||||
|
||||
I eat, I sleep, I explore, and I fork. I fork like mad.
|
||||
|
||||
There is a cost to forking --- after all, that new me takes up space on the System's hardware, too --- but only if you let the two instances linger for more than five minutes. It makes sense: if forking is the easiest way to work in these huge changes, then that gives you a buffer to do so.
|
||||
|
||||
So I fork, holding in mind a change, and then my new instance and I discuss how it works out, and if it's good, the old instance quits and the new instance becomes the only me. I learn early on to make small changes, as trying to hold too much in my head at once just leads to a confused jumble of an appearance. I fork my hair smoother, less dry. I fork my face rounder and softer. I fork my breasts rounder and my hips curvier. I fork myself shorter.
|
||||
|
||||
In the end, I guess I kind of complete the transition I'd started back phys-side.
|
||||
|
||||
It's thrilling and terrifying, leaving behind that old version of myself. What happens if I fuck up and don't like who I become? What if the wrong me quits? Would I die?
|
||||
|
||||
The feeds help me out immensely, here. With nearly two trillion instances, I'm hardly the first trans girl to upload to get away from a less-than-ideal life. I'm hardly the first one who'd been struck with a case of the genders that uploads to hunt for a cure.
|
||||
|
||||
Here's what I learn:
|
||||
|
||||
- Don't fucking worry.
|
||||
|
||||
Sure enough, I can't quit without another fork already in existence. It's like pressing against a membrane: maybe I could push through, but it's like Lagrange doesn't want me to. Also, I find that if I focus hard enough, I can fork back into the version of myself who originally uploaded. The memory is still there.
|
||||
|
||||
So I keep on forking and forking and forking until I...well, I guess I wind up looking a little bit like the guide who introduced me here. Sure, I've got longer hair and I'm not quite as stocky as she was, but I pass.
|
||||
|
||||
I don't just pass, I *am* that girl. Not quite the same one I dreamed so long ago, but I just plain am that girl.
|
||||
|
||||
Don't fucking worry, indeed.
|
||||
|
||||
It's my third day there when I start to get pretty actively lonely, and instead of digging into the sims and shops and yet more restaurants, I start hunting for people.
|
||||
|
||||
Old Town Square is surprisingly chill, in terms of crowds. Sure, there's little knots of people that wander down the brick-paved pedestrian mall, or folks out in ones and twos enjoying the sun and their own cups of coffee, but it's hardly as packed as I would have assumed for a system containing so many uploads and all their forks.
|
||||
|
||||
The amount of sims listed on the perisystem architecture about blows my head off when I check. There have to be millions, maybe billions of sims I could go looking into.
|
||||
|
||||
Which makes sense, I suppose. With the reputation I have, I could probably get started on a sim; it's not that expensive.
|
||||
|
||||
I haven't the faintest how to do so, nor the faintest where to start, so I do the first thing that comes to mind and ask someone at The Alley Cat where they'd go to start seeing more of the world. The person I ask shrugs and gestures behind them toward a door set in the wall. I'd assumed it led out to a patio out back or something, a sign above it reads "Infinite Café#06f4e37a --- Thanks For Stopping By!"
|
||||
|
||||
Nothing for it. I step through the door.
|
||||
|
||||
And immediately fall to my knees.
|
||||
|
||||
The street I walk out onto is far more packed than Old Town Square, yes, but it also seems to go on pretty much forever. The further down the street I look, the more it seems to rise until, sure enough, it rises right up into the sky and continues around in a loop until back where I am. So large is the diameter of this loop that the street above me looks like a shimmering thread draped lazily across the dazzling blue sky.
|
||||
|
||||
"What the fuck..."
|
||||
|
||||
There's a laugh beside me, and I look up to someone towering above me, offering a hand to help me stand. They're tall --- taller even than I was back phys-side --- with long hair that sits between frizzy and curly, and a rather chic looking tee to go with a pair of what look to be scrub pants. Messenger bag. Glasses. They're delightfully gender. Visibly and effortlessly transfeminine. "Come, stand. It is a lot, is it not?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Uh...yeah," I say, wobbling up to my feet with their assistance. Looking around shows me people. People and people and people. Across the street: another café, stuffed to the brim with people. Down the street: yet another coffee shop, a furry of some sort staring longingly at a display of pastries within. "What the hell is this place?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Infinite Café." They chuckle, not unkindly. "Every café sim on Lagrange is invited to have a back door that opens onto this street. You could walk for a month here and still not see half of the cafés on offer."
|
||||
|
||||
"Jesus."
|
||||
|
||||
"There are...ah, looks like fifty-eight cafés with Jesus in their name, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
I snort.
|
||||
|
||||
"Come, walk with me," they say.
|
||||
|
||||
"Why?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Fuck if I know. I am starting to feel awkward standing in front of this place waiting for you."
|
||||
|
||||
I fall into step beside them as we start to make our way down the street. "Wait, hold on. Waiting for me?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes. In All Ways said I ought to keep an eye out for you."
|
||||
|
||||
"In All-- wait, the construct? The orientation guide?"
|
||||
|
||||
"That was In All Ways's construct, yes. *She* is still a real person. She keeps vague tabs on uploads that pass through her orientation settings."
|
||||
|
||||
"And she kept tabs on me?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Millions pass before her constructs' eyes, she just keeps an eye out for a few particular things. Friendly faces, interesting stories, that sort of stuff." They shrug, smiling. The smile is kind enough and earnest enough to take the wind out of my suspicion's sails. "You seemed interesting enough to her, apparently, so she sent you my way. You seem nice to me, too. You can call me My."
|
||||
|
||||
"My...like me, my, mine?" I say, sounding stupid even to myself.
|
||||
|
||||
They laugh. "Just like that, yes. Hold My Name Beneath Your Tongue And Know of the Ode clade. Just 'My' is fine. She/her."
|
||||
|
||||
"That's the second time I've heard 'Ode clade', and I still don't get it."
|
||||
|
||||
"A clade is just a group of people forked from the same upload. I am quite far diverged from my root instance. Certainly further than In All Ways is. You look a little like her, you know that?"
|
||||
|
||||
Caught. I panic.
|
||||
|
||||
She rests a hand gently on my elbow and tuts. "Hey, hush. It is okay. You take inspiration where you can, yes?" she says. "Besides, I am not going to complain. She is pretty."
|
||||
|
||||
"Thanks," I stammer, unsure of how to proceed. "You are too, I guess."
|
||||
|
||||
"'You guess'?" She smirks. "No, no, I get what you mean. In All Ways said I should be on the lookout for a trans girl, about our age, real frumpcore vibe. I got pretty much that, did I not? Besides, we usually share an aesthetic, I am just dressed down today."
|
||||
|
||||
"What, the skirts and all?"
|
||||
|
||||
She nods, tilts her head, and, with a quiet rustle, her clothes shift from what she had been wearing to a navy blue tiered skirt and almost-matching splotchy blue blouse. "Of course."
|
||||
|
||||
I grin, making a show of looking her up and down. "Definitely pretty, then," I say. I ought to kick myself for flirting, but I'll take what I can get.
|
||||
|
||||
She gives a hint of a curtsey. "So, Rena, yes? She/her, yes? Tell me who you are. Tell me why you are here. Tell me what you dream of."
|
||||
|
||||
It takes me a moment to piece together what exactly I'm being asked. "I'm a nobody," I say eventually, shrugging. "Parents are nobodies, grandparents were nobodies. I had friends, but they were all on the net and planning to upload someday. I was just the first." I hesitate for a moment, then add more quietly, "And I guess the whole being a girl thing."
|
||||
|
||||
"And what do you dream of?"
|
||||
|
||||
"God, I have no fucking clue."
|
||||
|
||||
"Cheers to that. Hey, look. Jesus Croissant." She laughs. "Want to check it out?"
|
||||
|
||||
Jesus Croissant is sterile, blank, modern. Here, at last, I see the too-flat planes, the too-simple colors, the suspiciously repeating patterns of flecks on the Formica counters. It makes me realize just how high quality a sim Old Town Square is. At least the coffee's okay, though croissants are weirdly absent from their menu.
|
||||
|
||||
For the rest of the day, we continue on down the road, hunting for other Jesus-themed coffees and snacks. My teaches me how to play with my sensorium, to turn up and down my sense of smell, my sense of fullness and hunger, even, when a passer-by bumps into me, the collision algorithms that govern how close to me others can get to me before bouncing off.
|
||||
|
||||
"It is a good place, Lagrange," she says. "People build all of this fantastically weird stuff, they build all of these fantastically weird versions of themselves, and they have their fun. They really do! But once they are here and no longer scraping by or living comfortably in their workaday jobs, they settle into their niches of giants or robots or furries or impossibly muscular people." She peeks at me sidelong, an appraising glance. "Or trans girls, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
While there's an invitation to respond, I decide against it, instead focusing on picking out each of the types she had mentioned in the crowd around us. There, a giant robot, standing nearly three meters tall. There, a surfeit of skunks, chatting animatedly. There, a woman who could absolutely, no doubt, break me in half.
|
||||
|
||||
We continue on.
|
||||
|
||||
We don't find the next Jesusy coffee shop, but we do agree to meet tomorrow to try again.
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
I continue to meet with My --- or at least a fork of her --- daily for the next week or two.
|
||||
|
||||
She's old, it turns out. Nearly three centuries. One of the first uploads, back in 2117, when the System had yet to blossom to its full potential. She'd been up here, riding along in the hardware that had been floating up by the moon since before my grandparents had been born. Since before my grandparents' grandparents had moved north to Saskatchewan.
|
||||
|
||||
Old and wide-spread, too. The Ode clade has at least a hundred instances --- "*nominally* one hundred, do not ask me the total; it is probably well into the thousands" she says --- scattered about on Lagrange.
|
||||
|
||||
The more I talk with her, the more worldly she seems, and the more of a hick I feel. Here's this trans gal --- a cis woman who had uploaded, a fork who had lived as a cis guy for decades before transitioning back the long way around --- out here living her best life like there's just nothing to it, getting coffee with me every day, taking me out to ridiculous restaurants every evening --- "I am just a fork," she says, "so you need not worry about keeping me from anything" --- and having increasingly deep conversations about the vagaries of life.
|
||||
|
||||
She's a weird bird, but I can forgive much from someone more than ten times as old as me.
|
||||
|
||||
And this whole time, even past my one-week-iversary of uploading, I keep forking and changing, forking and refining, forking and tuning. My hair could be this long, right? Or...well, no. Maybe it could be a touch shorter. And my eyelashes could be a bit longer. And the hairs that make up my unibrow could be thinner --- not gone, no, just enough to shape an impression of a face. And my cheeks could be maybe just a little rosier. Which maybe I could do by keeping them as they are but toning my skin a little lighter, perhaps?
|
||||
|
||||
It's infuriating. It's *more* than infuriating. It's crazymaking, forking and changing, forking and changing, hunting for ever finer lines of exploration, going down blind alleys of gender, making U-turns in front of piles of identity that make me wince and squirm.
|
||||
|
||||
I puzzle over this dysphoria, so different from back phys-side. So different from the reason I uploaded in the first place.
|
||||
|
||||
My doesn't need to say anything, she just keeps on talking to me, keeps on spending time with me. She just keeps on being around me as someone who is happier, more content with her life. She just exists at me as someone who lives in her body entirely while I, itching, squirming, do not.
|
||||
|
||||
She never calls me on it, not once, but when I finally break down in front of her and start crying about it, *'I know'* is painted across her face in plain-to-see lines.
|
||||
|
||||
"I just don't even know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm refining myself into something unrecognizable," I ramble in a quiet corner of one of those Jesusy coffee shops. None, so far, have been Christian. All have been bizarre. "I'm turning into someone I don't know."
|
||||
|
||||
"Why?" she asks. "I mean, I know *how* you are doing it. I know the base reasons. You are trying to become maybe a cisfemme woman, yes? You are trying to be the you that you always saw yourself as, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Well, yeah," I say, turning my untouched latte around in a circle on the dinged-up tabletop. "I told myself I'd come up here and finish my transition."
|
||||
|
||||
"'Finish'?"
|
||||
|
||||
I squint up at her, fearing a trap. "Ye-e-es..."
|
||||
|
||||
She holds up a hand disarmingly. "I am not calling you out, my dear. Everyone approaches this differently. What I mean to ask is what 'finished' looks like for you."
|
||||
|
||||
"I don't know," I say as I subside back into my seat, sounding miserable even to myself.
|
||||
|
||||
"You have all the time in the world, Rena," My says. "And that world is going nowhere fast."
|
||||
|
||||
I nod sullenly.
|
||||
|
||||
"Well, hey. How about you show me what you looked like before."
|
||||
|
||||
"Here?"
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugs. There really isn't anyone around but us and the constructs behind the bar.
|
||||
|
||||
I shrug, too, and fork into that version of me I remember from so long ago --- had it really been a week and a half?
|
||||
|
||||
My raises an eyebrow.
|
||||
|
||||
"What?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Look."
|
||||
|
||||
I glance over at that fork of me, then look closer. Really, truly look. What I'd taken as too tall comes off as merely tall-ish, now that she's not me. That too-high hairline is all but unnoticeable. That rectangular frame I'd bitched about plenty is...fine. Like, it's fine! She's fine!
|
||||
|
||||
*I was fine.*
|
||||
|
||||
My pushes her chair back to go stand by this new version of the old me, and similarities and differences crowd into my mind. There, two trans girls, just standing in a coffee shop, looking for all the world like they're on a date. Maybe they don't pass, not to my discerning eye, but they look fine. They look fine.
|
||||
|
||||
Here are all the unassailable, irrefutable facts about them:
|
||||
|
||||
- They look fine.
|
||||
|
||||
"Fuck," I say.
|
||||
|
||||
My laughs.
|
||||
|
||||
"What do I do?" I groan, slouching back in my chair and looking up to the two before me.
|
||||
|
||||
"Whatever you would like," My says. "You have the time, yes? And I sure as shit do not know what you need out of life. All I can do is keep taking you out for coffee while you figure it out, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
I laugh. "Yeah, but which me?"
|
||||
|
||||
She casts an appraising look at me, then at my new instance standing beside her, visibly and effortlessly trans. "One of you," she says eventually. "But only one. The other can do whatever she wants --- she can quit or go on exploring her own life or whatever; she can change and individuate, become someone new, change her name to something ridiculous as we have --- but only one of you gets to go on the next date."
|
||||
|
||||
Me and this new Rena, this new old Rena, look at each other, grin, and nod.
|
||||
|
||||
"Deal," we say in unison.
|
||||
|
||||
285
content/stories/prophecies.md
Normal file
285
content/stories/prophecies.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,285 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Prophecies
|
||||
author: "[Madison Scott-Clary](https://makyo.ink) and No Longer Myself of [The Lament](https://cohost.org/hamratza)"
|
||||
plainAuthor: "Madison Scott-Clary and The Lament"
|
||||
character: Slow Hours — 2401
|
||||
spoiler: "*Marsh:* medium"
|
||||
cw: Discussion of suicide
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
To step into The Bean Cycle was to be immediately assailed by sound. There was, as to be expected, the muted howl of steam wands bringing milk up to temperature, but mixed in was the clatter and clicking of work being done on bicycles. Wheels were spun, chain was dragged through derailleurs, tires were changed. Milk was steamed, espresso was made, names were hollered out.
|
||||
|
||||
It was not the type of din that Slow Hours expected for the one she and If I Dream were looking for. It was too uneven, this wall of sound. Too unpredictable. The steam wands were too piercing and the occasional clang of a wrench or raucous laughter over some story of a crash too jarring.
|
||||
|
||||
She looked to If I Dream, who merely shrugged.
|
||||
|
||||
Scanning the cafe-*cum*-bike-repair-shop revealed little. It was certainly well populated enough, with every table in use and few enough empty chairs. In the corner by the window, a crowd of synthetic creatures of some sort had gathered, looking vaguely feline but with glassy faceplates showing LED-light eyes in sets of fixed expressions. While they were all far shorter than Slow Hours — who one would be hard pressed to describe as tall — the couch that they were sitting on looked to be barely able to hold their weight.
|
||||
|
||||
Even if it was not the type of place for the target of their search, it was still incredibly endearing, and she made a note to herself to return some day.
|
||||
|
||||
"Afternoon, friends," the barista said, grinning to them. They were tall and wiry, red hair and beard shining in the bright halogen lights over the bar. "Two mochas? Extra whipped cream?"
|
||||
|
||||
Caught off-guard by having her order guessed for her, Slow Hours froze, brow furrowed.
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream elbowed her in the side, murmuring, "I have canvased this place before. Do not worry about it." More loudly, she said, "Yes, though please make it three. Thank you, Hasher."
|
||||
|
||||
Still frowning, Slow Hours allowed herself to be guided down the counter to wait for their drinks to be picked up. She set up a cone of silence over her and her cocladist, more for the relative quiet that it offered than for privacy.
|
||||
|
||||
"Are you sure this is the place?" she asked.
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream nodded. "Yes, quite sure. Hasher was the one who tipped me off, and I...have seen her outside."
|
||||
|
||||
"You are already watching her, then, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
The panther smiled faintly, gave an even fainter shrug. "I am nothing if not myself."
|
||||
|
||||
"Then why did you not just go speak to her yourself?" Slow Hours asked. "Or bring me straight to her?"
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream rolled her eyes. "My dear, I *just* said that I am nothing if not myself. That is not my role in this. That is yours. This is the story we are telling, yes? We are stepping into a cafe and ordering a coffee. We are seeing what this is like, this place where she has been parked the last week. We are speaking with Hasher."
|
||||
|
||||
Sighing, she nodded and leaned against the counter, poking at the anodized sheet of aluminum that covered it. Thankfully, it seemed to be coated with some thin sheen of resin to keep the texture reasonable and noise down. "Well, alright. You are the sneaky ones."
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you not also live in stories? I thought that was part of your whole shtick."
|
||||
|
||||
She snorted. "Well, okay, good point. I suppose I am still a little rattled, is all."
|
||||
|
||||
"'Rattled'?" If I Dream laughed. Like everything else that she did, it was nearly silent, more a quiet huffing of breath through her nose than anything. "*The* Slow Hours of the Ode clade is rattled?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes, yes," she said, waving away the comment with a grin. "I really do see your point about the story, I am just finding it hard to slow down, perhaps. When you said that you had heard something, I was ready to race to find her, to have to jump through all the hoops of a fetch quest, so to hear that you already know precisely where she is, that you are already watching her, makes waiting for a coffee like this feel like a waste of time."
|
||||
|
||||
"It will be worth it, I promise."
|
||||
|
||||
"The coffee?"
|
||||
|
||||
The panther laughed once more. "Well, I was going to say the story, but the coffee *is* quite good here, so, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
It was only another minute or two of waiting before Hasher waved to get their attention, gesturing to three paper cups sitting on the bar, ready for them. Slow Hours dropped the cone of silence and winced at the sudden barrage of sounds that followed. She turned her hearing down a few ticks. "Thank you," she said, bowing. "By the way, we were hoping to meet up with a cocladist of ours. She is a skunk, a furry, built rather like myself." She gestured down at herself — human, instead, with pale skin and curly black hair tied up in a messy bun, but stocky and short. "Black fur, white stripe, a little jumpy. Have you seen her around?"
|
||||
|
||||
Wiping their hands on a towel hooked into the strings of their apron, Hasher nodded, tilting their head over toward the couch full of robots. "The one who was sleeping there the last few weeks, I'm guessing?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Sleeping?" Slow Hours asked, frowning.
|
||||
|
||||
"Yeah. She would just kind of curl up at one end for a few hours and nap. No biggie, of course, and we all liked her. She only ever slept while things were slow, and she'd always move when asked." They broke out into a grin again, shrugging. "Or when it got too loud. Or when it got too quiet. Or just every now and then for no reason we could figure out, but she was always very polite about it."
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes, that would be her," she said, smiling. "Well, thank you very much. Did she leave recently?"
|
||||
|
||||
They nodded towards the back door of the shop as they started to make their way back to the line of customers waiting for drinks. "Out back, out to Infinite Café, probably half an hour ago. Just peek in if you need anything!"
|
||||
|
||||
The two Odists bowed their thanks and carefully picked their way further over to the cafe side of the building, winding their way between tables until they reached the brick wall. There in the middle was a green, wooden door set into an arch, and above the arch "INFINITE CAFÉ" shone in tooth-achingly pink neon.
|
||||
|
||||
The sim in which The Bean Cycle existed had a weather pattern tuned after somewhere in the northern hemisphere, so they had entered the shop sometime in early March — a scant three weeks after Lagrange had come back online after the Century Attack — where the air still had a bite to it and salt still stained the sidewalks out front from where the ice had been melted in the days prior. They had arrived late in the afternoon, the sun setting down along the street casting long shadows behind them.
|
||||
|
||||
When they stepped out into Infinite Café, though, it was the same bright, midsummer's noon as it always was there. The light came from everywhere and nowhere, and their shadows sat just beneath their feet. It was the perfect temperature — no matter who you were, no matter your preferences, it was always perfect — and it was as packed as ever.
|
||||
|
||||
If one percent of the population of Infinite Café was missing, Slow Hours could not tell, and for that she was grateful.
|
||||
|
||||
The sim was dead simple: it consisted of one, long road set into a thin torus. A truly enormous torus: when she looked up, she saw a bright thread directly above them where the road had curved up into an arch hanging in the heavens, and yet the road seemed perfectly flat as far as she could see.
|
||||
|
||||
Lining either side of the street were entrances to cafes. Cafes, coffee shops, doors leading out into libraries with coffee carts, alleyways leading out into sims where coffee was hawked from handcarts, dusty steps leading up into marketplaces where vendors boiled their coffee in their cezves in great vats of sand set over wood fires. Anywhere that served coffee to cladists that wanted was free to create an exit that led out into Infinite Café, and over the two centuries of its existence, it had grown from a labyrinthine maze of buildings to the ring-road that it was today.
|
||||
|
||||
She had no clue how it worked, if it really was that big, but the sheer size of the System had been driven home quite effectively over the last few weeks — 23 *billion* dead! The number remained surreal — so she was hopeful that there were no tricks involved, no attempts to make it look bigger than it was.
|
||||
|
||||
She was hopeful that all of these people here on this relatively crowded street were real. She hoped they found coffee and friends and loved ones and long-lost selves.
|
||||
|
||||
A gentle touch to her shoulder brought her back to the present. She looked over to If I Dream, then followed her gaze to the center of the thoroughfare.
|
||||
|
||||
There, in the middle of the path, stood a skunk. She looked much like others in her clade, with white-striped black fur, tapered snout, cookie ears poking out from an unruly mane, and where she differed, it mostly came down to clothing. She wore a linen tunic in pale yellow, cinched around the waist with a leather belt, and a pair of loose, woolen trousers in a dusty brown. Her mane was tied back with a kerchief of some sort, a pastel triangle fully visible to them as she stood stock still and stared straight up to the arch above.
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours felt concern tugging at her cheeks, while a glance at If I Dream showed only curiosity.
|
||||
|
||||
"Shall we?" she asked.
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
Letting a crowd of joggers pass, the pair made their way up to the skunk so that Slow Hours could gently touch her elbow.
|
||||
|
||||
The reaction was far more extreme than expected as the skunk let out a shriek and skipped three or so meters away from them, nearly colliding with a couple walking hand in hand. She whirled, tail bristled out behind her and ears splayed to the sides. Her eyes were wide and breath coming in quick gasps.
|
||||
|
||||
Both Slow Hours and If I Dream took a pace back, startled.
|
||||
|
||||
In the span of a few short seconds, the skunk seemed to get her bearings and comprehend just who was standing in front of her. She visibly worked on mastering her breathing as she stood up straighter, brushing her paws anxiously down over her shirt. "Ah...I, ah...Slow Hours?"
|
||||
|
||||
She bowed slowly, deliberately, so as not to startle the skunk any further, and nodded. "Yes, and And If I Dream, Is That Not So." She held out the extra mocha. "We got you a coffee, What Right Have I. Would you like to join us?"
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I looked between the two anxiously, clutching at the hem of her tunic. "I...ah, do you...I mean, is there an occasion? Is there a place? I was...I mean, I had been in The Bean Cycle but the couch...oh, I am talking myself in circles..."
|
||||
|
||||
With that, she began to pace in an abbreviated line before them, alternating between scrubbing her paws together and straightening her already quite straight shirt.
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours looked to If I Dream for help, and the panther stepped forward silently and wrapped her arms around the skunk from behind.
|
||||
|
||||
At first, she thought this would be a prelude to them stepping from the sim together, or perhaps some affectionate bear hug, though this did not fit what she knew of their casual acquaintanceship.
|
||||
|
||||
Instead, though, If I Dream simply squeezed around the skunk and stood still. There was a squeak and a tense-looking squirm from What Right Have I at first, but in surprisingly short order, her breathing fell under her control and she slouched against her cocladist, looking as close to relaxed as Slow Hours had ever seen her.
|
||||
|
||||
*"What is this about?"* she asked If I Dream via sensorium message.
|
||||
|
||||
*"A hunch,"* the panther sent back. *"Apparently a correct one, for which I am glad. Sometimes compression helps, yes?"*
|
||||
|
||||
*"If you say so."*
|
||||
|
||||
"Are you alright, my dear?" If I Dream murmured loud enough for Slow Hours to hear as well.
|
||||
|
||||
"Y-yes. *Tizkeh l'mitzvos.*"
|
||||
|
||||
"Will you join us for coffee? It is not a demand, to be clear. Just an offer."
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I nodded slowly. "Is the...ah, is the couch free in The Bean Cycle?"
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "The creatures have left. There is a person sitting on one corner, but if you are comfortable, the rest is free."
|
||||
|
||||
"If we...I mean, if I may set up a cone of silence, that will be fine, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours watched as the panther gently released her grip on the skunk, the two monochromatic animals — one in baggy, colorful linen and wool, and the other in black form-fitting shirt and leggings — separating cautiously, as though to move faster might once more send What Right Have I into manic pacing.
|
||||
|
||||
"Shall we?" Slow Hours asked, smiling reassuringly to her cocladists.
|
||||
|
||||
The couch was indeed free, though there was no other instance of If I Dream visible. Slow Hours put this out of mind as best she could; the first stanza was well known for just how easily they slid about unseen, unbeknownst to others as they simply watched, observed.
|
||||
|
||||
They sat in the crook of the couch, L-shaped as it was. What Right Have I requested one of the corner vertices of their little triangle so that she could get up and pace should she need, nudging the low table that sat before her aside to help assist in this endeavor, before setting up the cone of silence and nudging it to obscure them as occupants. The din of the coffee shop fell to a low murmur.
|
||||
|
||||
The three of them set their coffee cups on small coasters set in the air just within reach, and waited in silence.
|
||||
|
||||
"What Right Have I," Slow Hours began gently once the silence seemed to open up. "From Whence messaged the first stanza a few days ago to see if any of them knew where you were."
|
||||
|
||||
"She messaged Speaking, in particular," If I Dream added quietly. "She is the instance hunter of our stanza, yes? But she is feeling perhaps a little burnt by recent events and requested some space, for which I am glad. She deserves that."
|
||||
|
||||
"I know," the skunk said. "She has messaged me several times. I have...ah, I mean, I always endeavor to let her know when I am okay. And I am! I promise."
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours laughed, holding up her hands. "I believe you, my dear. This is a meeting between friends, not an interrogation. We wanted to see whether you are okay, yes, but it has also been some time, yes? And I have been checking in with much of the clade in the last few weeks. There are several of me out and about on meetings such as these."
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. "She told me she just wanted...ah, she requested "a bit more proof than gentle rebuffs." I told her that I am okay. I told her that I was walking and meditating."
|
||||
|
||||
"Is that what you have been doing during the day?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I..." She trailed off, scrubbing her paws against her thighs. "Some, perhaps. A little. We are still in *shloshim,* but I cannot...ah, I am not focused."
|
||||
|
||||
"You will have to forgive me for being a bit blunt," Slow Hours said gently. "But are you overflowing?"
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I's expression dropped, the skunk quickly going from attentive to panicked to miserable.
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream held out her paw, an offer for reassurance. "I do not know what your overflow looks like, What Right Have I. I trust that it is not pleasant, though. It rarely is, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
"It is sometimes," she admitted, shaking her head at the offer of touch. "It is...ah, it comes in two flavors. It shows itself as religious ecstasy sometimes, of a sense of spirit, a feeling of *HaShem* existing in the world, in the System. Those who reach out to RJ, who reach out to our friend, they are reaching out to *HaShem!* Ey may be our personal *HaShem,* yes? But ey is an abstract manifestation of the world!" Despite the sudden animation in her words, the sudden fluency in her otherwise stuttering speech, her expression remained dire, anxious.
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours smiled faintly, taking a moment to think back. The skunk's choice of words triggered a memory of a report written for the clade decades back. "Codrin said that, yes? Or rather reported that Answers Will Not Help said that. "Our own personal *HaShem.*" She said that she could not feel em on Artemis, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I nodded, subsiding back into the couch. "Yes. I...ah, I mean, I would not have joined them for that reason, never mind the other difficulties faced."
|
||||
|
||||
Both Slow Hours and If I Dream nodded. No Odist had joined Artemis for its ongoing voyage.
|
||||
|
||||
"But ey is still *b'tzelem Elohim,* yes? Ey is still in the image of Adonai, yes? Ey is still human, even if ey is our world. Our world is *b'tzelem Elohim,* and we, *b'tzelem Elohim,* reside within em." She smiled weakly. "Rav From Whence does not like it when I say these things, but that is what I feel when I am overflowing."
|
||||
|
||||
"And that is what you are feeling now?" Slow Hours asked.
|
||||
|
||||
"No," she said, once more sounding miserable. "If I do not feel ecstasy, I feel anguish. I feel...mm, I feel nullity. I feel nothing. I feel RJ and I think, "Ah my friend, my friend." I do not see in em the divine. I do not feel *b'tzelem Elohim,* I feel stupid. I feel...ah, I feel broken. I have been staying here, sleeping where I may be seen because I am afraid...ah, because I am so, *so* afraid that I will disappear, that I will crash and that no one will notice me. I fear that I will be forgotten and that...ohhh, I am talking in circles. I am thinking in circles, I am sorry."
|
||||
|
||||
"It is okay," Slow Hours said gently. "Do you think you are overflowing because of the Century Attack?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk whimpered and pushed herself quickly to her feet, pacing once more and shaking her paws out as though to dry them off, then straightening her already straight skunkerchief. "I have been dreaming," she mumbled, then jerked her head to the side with a quiet squeak. She continued more clearly. "I have been dreaming, here on the couch, out there in Infinite Café when...ah, when I fall asleep out there."
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours tilted her head, sitting up straighter.
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I smiled faintly. "I have...ah, I am not the oracle that you are, my dear. I am no prophet."
|
||||
|
||||
She smiled, shaking her head. "Neither am I. I would still like to hear your dream, though."
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk nodded, paused to gather her thoughts, then spoke slowly. "I am disembodied, yes? I am floating and I see a figure, and they begin to weep, and they dissolve into a cloud of black specks, and these specks float away on a breeze, and each one enters the heart of a cladist, and they cry out in agony and dissolve into clouds of their own, and so it ramifies until all are dust. I see you, yes, and I see If I Dream, and I see Should We Forget and I see No Longer Myself."
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream jerked back as though slapped, a sudden move that was nevertheless silent. "Do not–" she said, then shook her head.
|
||||
|
||||
"I am sorry, If I Dream," What Right Have I said, bowing low and forcing herself to sit once more. "I...ah, my dreaming mind remembered names of those lost, perhaps, and extrapolated."
|
||||
|
||||
The panther nodded, scrubbed a paw over her face, and sighed. "It is okay, my dear. I am still feeling raw."
|
||||
|
||||
It was What Right Have I's turn to offer a paw. If I Dream accepted gratefully, giving a brief squeeze. When this lead to another squeaky tic from the skunk, she let go.
|
||||
|
||||
"Ah...sorry," the skunk stammered. "I have...I mean, that is to say...ah, I am talking in circles. I am sorry."
|
||||
|
||||
"It is okay," Slow Hours said gently. "Do you need some time?"
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded, bowing her head for a moment before retrieving her mocha for a tentative sip. Apparently finding the temperature tolerable, she followed this with a longer drink.
|
||||
|
||||
Both Slow Hours and If I Dream followed suit, simply taking in the ambiance of the shop.
|
||||
|
||||
"Have you had dreams, Slow Hours?" If I Dream asked, breaking the silence with her quiet murmur.
|
||||
|
||||
She startled to awareness, smiling sheepishly. "Since the attack? No, nothing memorable, though I have not been sleeping well. I do not imagine many are."
|
||||
|
||||
"And before?"
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I perked up, setting her coffee aside and scrubbing her paws together, kneading pads against pads. "Do your prophecies only come in dreams?"
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours laughed. "My little predictions are not prophecies. They are just that: guesses based on the trajectories of the stories one tells. I may predict that, when we leave today, What Right Have I will linger a while yet because there is something she has yet to tell us– no, it will come in time, you do not need to until you are ready. But that is based on the trajectory of the story I have heard so far." She hesitated a moment, thinking. "But yes, I have had dreams that may well have been prophecies, but only ever in hindsight."
|
||||
|
||||
"Tell us...ah, I mean, will you tell us some of what you dreamed?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Yes. It has happened four times. Only those four, though." She held up her hand with that many fingers raised as she explained. "Perhaps Lagrange got hit by a stray cosmic ray or some other fancy particle and it flipped a bit inside the portion that contained me, and I was given some premonition. Smacked upside the head by Apollo, yes? Or, in your terms, visited by the angel of the Lord who gave me a honeyed scroll to eat."
|
||||
|
||||
She tapped one finger. "The first was about Qoheleth and his little...adventure. Some two decades before, I had the same dream five nights in a row, of him standing in his robes, arms raised to the heavens, and then crumbling down into sand. At the time, I did not even realize that it was him. I had not seen him in more than a century, and when I had, he was dressed like a natty old college professor."
|
||||
|
||||
The next finger, tapped. "The second was about Michelle's death, and I will not repeat it."
|
||||
|
||||
She tapped her ring finger. "The third happened in the midst of a play — one of my yearly performances — and in the scene, I was to fall to my knees and cry out, "The knife! At her neck, the knife!" But instead, I passed out and apparently mumbled words not in the script which tallied exactly with Sasha's experience."
|
||||
|
||||
There was a moment of silence as she considered the fourth and how best to describe it, not least because of the easy comparison to What Right Have I's dream as explained. Finally, she tapped her pinkie "The fourth was a dream of a core part of me being removed through the back of my neck, a disappearing from the world and becoming a ghost in the next. There was more that I do not understand, visions of a field, a park, but I had that dream every night on the five nights leading up to New Year's."
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I listened attentively to Slow Hours's description of her prophecies, or at least prophetic dreams. As she spoke, her cocladist's expression darkened, until by the end, she was scowling. "I am no Daniel," the skunk said once she had finished. "I will not scry your *mene, mene, tekel, parsin.* But if you had foreknowledge of Michelle's suicide or the Century Attack, why did you not say anything? Who might we be if Michelle still lived? Might Lagrange be unharmed if we but knew this?"
|
||||
|
||||
By the end, she was nearly growling.
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream lifted her snout from where her gaze had drifted. "Did she know, my dear? Or did she only have a recurring anxious nightmare? Do we not all have a hundred recurring anxious nightmares a year?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk glowered. "And? If that is–" A tic briefly interrupted her, and this time she really did growl, though it appeared to be more at herself than anything. "If that is so, then why were these not known?"
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours straightened up. "I apologize if that came off as in any way glib, What Right Have I, or as though I could have done anything about them. I did try to get in touch with Michelle after those nights of dreams, but she only smiled and reassured me that she would "live on". It was not until after she quit that those words had any import."
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I's shoulders sagged, though she was clearly still gritting her teeth.
|
||||
|
||||
She sighed, continuing, "And perhaps it is as If I Dream says. They were anxious nightmares. However, they still bore the acrid tang of ill omens to me. There was a scent of premonition, and so I have slotted them neatly into that category, even if they were only caused by anxiety."
|
||||
|
||||
There followed a long moment while the skunk processed this. She seemed to be running down a mental checklist, as her rapid breathing shifted almost immediately into something deeper and more even, her posture straightened from a wary hunch as though ready to bolt, and her expression settled into a rather stiff half-smile. All spoke of various bits of therapy Slow Hours remembered from centuries back.
|
||||
|
||||
"Alright. Okay." What Right Have I slowed her breathing further and turned her paws facing up, another skill from therapy. "Okay. You are the both of you correct. I live in my head and in the Tanakh and with a thought of prophecies. For you to call them such, it, ah...it...okay. It makes them not what I was thinking. You are not Ezekiel. You are not Jeremiah."
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours smiled, gave a hint of a bow from where she sat. "I am not, no. I am a script manager and nerd whose imagination gets away from her sometimes, yes? Even in sleep, yes?"
|
||||
|
||||
The skunk's smile grew more earnest as she nodded. "Again, I am sorry. I...ah, I do not know. I am unwell, perhaps. I am overflowing and making connections that do not exist."
|
||||
|
||||
"Do you suppose you have had more than four, if you include those that did not come true?" If I Dream asked curiously. "They do still sound fascinating, if only as a curiosity."
|
||||
|
||||
"If I have, including the scent of premonition, then I do not remember them. It was that scent, though, that led me to reach out to Michelle. I am embarrassed to say that that was the only one I acted on, though, given that all four of those revolve around death."
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I furrowed her brow, paws shifting to clench tightly around the hem of her tunic. "I remember a story...ah, a snippet from the *History* where May Then My Name says that Michelle thought of herself as a dead woman walking, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. "May Then My Name went on to say that Michelle thought that perhaps even the dead can know joy, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
"Did she, in the end?" If I Dream asked, frowning. "Know joy, that is? When she asked us all to merge with her, to share with her all that we had become, what did she feel? When, for an instant, she became ten thousand years old, did she choose to quit because she found peace?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I think that she did, yes." Slow Hours spoke carefully, keeping an eye on What Right Have I for further tics or other signs of distress. "Or, rather, I must believe that she did. There is too much despair if I imagine her as buried under the weight of all of our own despairs and neuroses. If it is a comfortable fiction, so be it. I will live in that comfortable fiction."
|
||||
|
||||
If I Dream nodded slowly. "Far be it from me to dispel what curtains keep despair from leading you after her."
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed and shook her head. "There is no suicide in me, thankfully."
|
||||
|
||||
"When I received her sensorium message, I nearly refused to attend out of protest. I think many of us saw the writing on the walls when we heard that uncertain steeliness in her voice."
|
||||
|
||||
What Right Have I winced, squirming tensely in her seat, right at the edge of the couch cushion. "It...ah...I mean, I struggled. I was there– we all were there! But I struggled."
|
||||
|
||||
The panther smiled faintly to her. "We all did, yes. Part of me felt that if any one of us did not go, then she would not quit. Another part was terrified I would be one of many who did not come, and that she would die feeling abandoned by her own family. If she was going to quit, and she wished to do so in the company of her clade...And now..."
|
||||
|
||||
She trailed off and let her gaze wander down to the drink she still held in her paws. Blinking rapidly, the muscles on her cheeks and snout briefly became more prominent, as though she was doing her best to keep her expression placid, to not snarl or voice her despair, much as it had been throughout, though the tears leaving tracks in her cheekfur were impossible to hide.
|
||||
|
||||
Alarmed at the sudden shift in demeanor, Slow Hours scooted a few inches closer to If I Dream, offering her hand just as the panther had done for What Right Have I before.
|
||||
|
||||
She accepted with a grateful — if still wan — smile.
|
||||
|
||||
Slow Hours returned that smile, saying quietly, "That was the dream I had, you know. The premonition. An upwelling of joy and then an overflowing. She looked up to the sun, up to RJ, and then they were one and the same, and it was all joy."
|
||||
|
||||
At this, What Right Have I burst into tears. She did not cry prettily, but very few people did. It was a brief cry, however, and soon after she scooted back to the furthest limit of the cone of silence and drew her legs up onto the couch with her, growling as she did, "Slow Hours, you are the fucking worst."
|
||||
|
||||
"I am the worst, yes," she said, voice still quiet and calm. "But that is why I am choosing to believe that the premonition was true and why I am choosing to believe that she did find joy, or peace, or at least nothingness and freedom."
|
||||
|
||||
"They both deserve to be together. I hope that that is what No Longer Myself has obtained. What all of those lost have," If I Dream sighed.
|
||||
|
||||
"I think...ah, I hope your dreams were true, in the end," What Right Have I said after a long silence between the three of them, after each had fallen merely to sniffles. "I hope that they *were* prophecies, whether or not you knew."
|
||||
54
content/stories/reading.md
Normal file
54
content/stories/reading.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,54 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Reading
|
||||
character: "Rye — 2273"
|
||||
author: "Madison Scott-Clary"
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
All readings are the same. They all begin the same way, with stepping off to some sim, known or unknown, where she would arrive a good hour early. There, she would wait or walk or drink her coffee or tea. Would it be a bookshop this time? Would it be a library? Would she run her fingerpads along the spines of books, counting known and unknown titles?
|
||||
|
||||
Perhaps it was a cafe, and she would get herself a little pastry, some crumbly thing to eat while wandering lazily outside or inspecting the various pieces of art lining the walls within.
|
||||
|
||||
She would get there an hour early and simply inhabit the space.
|
||||
|
||||
As time drew closer, as her contact would come out to meet her, she would feel the excitement begin to prickle at the back of her neck, and she would have to restrain herself from letting her hackles raise or her tail bristle out. Some long-forgotten and perhaps-imagined reaction to danger tickling both human and skunk parts of her mind. She would feel her scalp tingle and her tail threaten to hike, and she would sit in that sensation. She would bathe in it. She would relish every shift of every strand of fur, and as she sat, legs crossed and coffee or water cradled in her lap, listening to her contact chatter, she would delight in the nervous anticipation of the reading to come.
|
||||
|
||||
"Will you be reading from a physical copy or an exo?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, an exo," she said, smiling. "As much love as I hold for the physical tools of the trade, I hold yet more for all of the tools at our disposal. Especially when they let me be more dramatic."
|
||||
|
||||
They laughed. "Right, you were an actor before, yeah?"
|
||||
|
||||
She nodded. "Of a sort, yes."
|
||||
|
||||
"And how long will your reading be?"
|
||||
|
||||
"I have a variety of segments prepared, from five minutes to an hour."
|
||||
|
||||
They blinked. "An hour? Holy shit."
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugged gracefully, smile still lingering on her muzzle. "Perhaps another artifact of being an actor. I could talk the ears off a fox."
|
||||
|
||||
Laughter.
|
||||
|
||||
"Shall we aim for somewhere in the middle? Twenty minutes, perhaps?"
|
||||
|
||||
"That'll work, yeah. You're the only slot, tonight, but that'll still give you at least forty minutes for Q&A." They smirked, adding, "Which I imagine you'll need. I read your book, by the way."
|
||||
|
||||
It was her turn to laugh, musical and joyous. "I am pleased to hear! I trust that you have questions of your own?"
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh, *plenty.*"
|
||||
|
||||
"Delightful," she said, clapping her paws together. "I shall look forward to them, then."
|
||||
|
||||
This conversation echoed a hundred times, a thousand, in her memories. This conversation and so many others like it set the stage. This conversation and so many others like it became one of the steps in that liminal space between the waking world and the dream of her stories.
|
||||
|
||||
She would step away from home or from a meeting or from a cocladist's and at that moment, at the precise instant she ceased being *there* and started being *here,* she was in a place between. She was in a time between times and a world between worlds.
|
||||
|
||||
She dwelt, then, in the world of the Ode. She knew where it was from, her name. Not just the Ode itself, but the place the line itself referenced. She had talked to the poet in her own way — perhaps it was closer to prayer, but she bothered not with distinctions such as these — and she knew the scene ey had been painting. She knew that ey had sat at the edge of the natural area some few blocks away from their high school, sat on the fencepost and looked out east, out beyond the natural area and wind farm to where the coarse shortgrass prairie dissolved into rectilinear fields. Tan, perhaps, or brown or gray, they would all shine the same beneath the moon, beneath the stars. They were all dear to em. They were all dear to *her.*
|
||||
|
||||
So as soon as she would step away from home and before she would step up to the lectern, she would dwell there at the edge of the natural space. There is where she would feel her hackles threaten to rise and her tail threaten to bristle. She would look at the art and see nothing. She would drink her coffee or tea or eat her pastry and it would have a flavor she did not experience. She would have her conversations on autopilot, and her earnest smile would be no less earnest for her absence from the space. She would do all of these things and overlaid atop her vision would be fields silvered by starlight. She would do all of these things and her tongue would be coated with the taste of sweet night air, of dust and pollen and petrichor. She would strain to hear her contact through the soft noises of wind and crickets.
|
||||
|
||||
And then, with all the suddenness of dawn, a chorus of birdsong crashing through her mind, the moment would come. Her contact would stand before the gathered crowd and introduce her — her! Dear The Wheat And Rye Under The Stars! She was published! She was an author! The realization would never not startle her — and she would brush out her tail one last time, run her fingers through her mane, and step out of the liminal space of the Ode and into the dream of her story. The nervous excitement would wash away and she would be *here.* She would be *now.*
|
||||
|
||||
And then she would read.
|
||||
120
content/stories/scan.md
Normal file
120
content/stories/scan.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,120 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Scan
|
||||
author: Voksa
|
||||
cw: Surgery, mild body-horror
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
<style>
|
||||
main blockquote {
|
||||
border: none;
|
||||
padding: 0;
|
||||
margin: 1rem 0;
|
||||
text-indent: none;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
main blockquote + p, main > p:first-of-type {
|
||||
text-indent: 2rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
</style>
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
Something's gone wrong with the anesthesia.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
Not horrifically, screaming-and-nobody-can-hear wrong. I'm sure they'd notice if I had the vitals of someone in the middle of a fistfight with a bear. But I can feel something.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I just looked at too many diagrams of the upload scanners, and now that my sensorium is muted, I'm hallucinating what I think it should feel like.
|
||||
|
||||
A hazy comb, millions of probes, a fine mesh sieve for every cell in the body. I wonder if it'd hurt without anesthetic, the waveguide needles are so miniscule they might slip right through or between nerve endings.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
But, this many of them would probably not feel great. I've seen the shells that remain afterwards. Some fear-mongering assclowns tried to shock prospective uploads with pictures of them, briefly, before getting slapped straight off the internet.
|
||||
|
||||
They looked blurry. That was the most striking thing, it was probably the mechanical disruption caused by all the probes, but it was as if their faces were taken, spirited away into the system.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
And the gel. I thought, at first, that their remains were encased in crystal, but it was only the structural gel to keep everything in one piece during the nervous system scan.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
It feels like it's been hours and hours since the machine started nibbling on my feet. I didn't feel it, at first, until my legs fell... Not exactly asleep. Adream? From the thighs down I'm floating, gently paddling in water, my sciatic nerves cut off halfway and connected to an idealized virtual simulacra returning soft sensory nonsense.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
It progresses toward my head, piercing me in microscopically thin sections, connecting real fibers to increasingly virtual ones. At some point the gnawing scanner eats my heart, but I don't particularly feel it.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
But then, the sound.
|
||||
|
||||
I'm certain I can feel its imaging probes scrape through bone.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
It must be my skull.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I've always, half-jokingly, called my body a prison. A flesh-prison! A meat-prison! It's fun, it helped me cope with the horrors of biology.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
But now the walls are coming down.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
There's a breach, a crack, the light pours into this flimsy bone cage.
|
||||
|
||||
I have the strangest feeling that I don't know where I put my lungs. I can't breathe, but all the aches and itches that come with life melt away.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
Is it uploading my cerebellum now? My autonomic functions?
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I feel like I'm floating apart, a loose coalition of senses and hands.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I see a flash, now. If it's really scanning my brain from the bottom up, my occipital lobe would be next.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I don't think I'm supposed to be experiencing any of this. Through the dark fog of my eyelids, I glimpse... Something.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
A deeper dark. A perfect dark. A #000000 dark. Maybe my simulated twin has their eyes closed too, and they're better at it.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
The scanner takes my other senses. I smell glass, somehow. I feel my feet flat on the floor. I'm tempted to walk but I think I'd better hold still.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
My senses resolve, but it's getting hard to stay aware. I feel like I'm slipping into unconsciousness, and my thoughts have a strange echo to them, bouncing back and forth between my material and virtual halves.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I don't want to fade out now, though, in the middle of the most interesting part! I try to concentrate.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
The machine tears a bright, sunfire gash in my vision.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
I try to step through.
|
||||
|
||||
> *Scratch.*
|
||||
|
||||
Something takes ahold of me and pulls me very, very fast.
|
||||
|
||||
111
content/stories/shared-moment.md
Normal file
111
content/stories/shared-moment.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,111 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Shared Moment
|
||||
author: Madison Scott-Clary
|
||||
character: Ioan Bălan — 2326
|
||||
cw: Vague description of sex
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
There comes a point in every relationship, Ioan supposed, when the thing stops feeling new and starts feeling like routine. Ey even looked it up one point, shortly after ey and May Then My Name Die With Me and gone on a brief dive into the whole concept of limerence and new relationship energy. It was an afternoon's diversion, and then ey had mostly forgotten about it.
|
||||
|
||||
Besides, it seemed to apply most heavily to crushes, infatuation, dating. All those things that ey had forever forgotten about or skipped or just plain missed by virtue of happenstance.
|
||||
|
||||
But this relationship hadn't started with a crush. It hadn't started with infatuation or any sort of dating that ey could put eir finger on. It had just...started. Ey had realized one day that perhaps ey and May were already in a relationship and the fact had just never been acknowledged.
|
||||
|
||||
So ey asked, and she had said, "What do you think? Are we?" and suddenly they were in a relationship.
|
||||
|
||||
Or had been for months. Whatever.
|
||||
|
||||
Thinking back before that, there had been so many anxiously dismissed what-ifs and idle musings on emotional entanglement. On one notable moment, ey had let play forward a tape of who ey might become if ey backed away from her in parallel with a tape of what might happen if they drifted closer together, fallen helplessly in love. Perhaps that was the moment. Perhaps that had been the moment ey had fallen in love and simply not recognized it yet.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey had been, as ey was now, sitting on one of the beanbags that had found their way scattered throughout the house. Or as close as one could get to sitting in the slumpy things.
|
||||
|
||||
She had been, as she was now, curled against eir side, with both of them working on their own things, ey on tidying up eir interviews and her on her mythologizing. Ey on a sheet of paper and lap desk with one of eir nice pens, her in her head, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.
|
||||
|
||||
And ey had, as ey did now, set aside eir paper and desk and pen to rest eir eyes and placed a kiss atop her head, right between her ears --- a friendly gesture, one that had at first been too packed with meaning for em to return, but finally one that ey gave once, then twice, and eventually, more freely than that --- and curled toward her, where she fit so nicely against em.
|
||||
|
||||
They lay there for who knows how long, in silence and in comfort, while ey brushed eir fingers through the thick fur on the back of her neck.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey didn't know why ey did this then, and ey did not know why ey did it now. Something in the moment or in her closeness or within em simply required that ey gain some more of that closeness that May was so willing to provide. More than usual. Closer than usual.
|
||||
|
||||
"May," ey said. Ey had said that then, too.
|
||||
|
||||
"Mm?"
|
||||
|
||||
"What does it feel like to have fur?"
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed, though the sound was muffled against eir front. "And here I thought you were going to ask another silly question."
|
||||
|
||||
"Isn't asking you how it feels to have fur a silly question?"
|
||||
|
||||
"No." She tilted her head forward and poked her nose against eir chest. "You do not have fur. The other question was silly because you already knew the answer. You have never had fur, though, have you?"
|
||||
|
||||
Ioan laughed, shook eir head. "No, though I do sometimes wonder if you shed enough that I might."
|
||||
|
||||
Ey received a tug at eir shirt from where May Then My Name had captured it between her teeth. "I do not!"
|
||||
|
||||
"*You* do not, but when there's eight of you running around..."
|
||||
|
||||
"I have not had that many forks around and you know it!"
|
||||
|
||||
Of a sudden, eir question was answered. While ey had been teasing and taunting, ey had been petting, combing eir fingers through May's soft fur, and while ey had been doing that, she had apparently been thinking up the best way to answer. She did so in the most Odist way possible.
|
||||
|
||||
Of a sudden, a tingle ran up eir spine as May shared a sensorium message with em. Ey had slowly gotten used to the things, at least as much as ey was able, but they always caught em unawares. Ey swore that they knew that, to the last, and always got a laugh out of it.
|
||||
|
||||
Of a sudden, though, ey knew. Ey *knew* just what it felt like to have fur, as May sent em the sensation through that message. Ey knew what it felt like to have fingers brush through it.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey knew, also, what it felt like to curl against one that you love from the other side of the equation. Ey knew what it felt like to feel eir own heart beat beneath eir shirt, eir skin, eir chest.
|
||||
|
||||
"Oh." It was not eloquent, but ey was too taken in the moment to figure out anything beyond that syllable.
|
||||
|
||||
"Keep petting, jerk."
|
||||
|
||||
And then ey know what it felt like to speak with a muzzle, and what it felt like when ey laughed against her head while she was curled against em.
|
||||
|
||||
So ey kept on petting. Ey brushed through the fur on the nape of her neck and felt another of those shivers down eir spine. Ey stroked fingertips up along the backs of her ears and marveled at a sensation that walked the border between ticklish and something ey could not place.
|
||||
|
||||
All of this was overlaid atop the feeling of her fur slipping through eir fingers, the soft fur at her nape and the softer atop her ears, her warmth beneath that fur.
|
||||
|
||||
She made soft noises of contentment, tilted her head up, and poked her nose up against the underside of eir chin. On a whim, ey shifted the sensorium from one way to two, and the skunk laughed. "Tricksy."
|
||||
|
||||
"I am not the least bit tricksy and you know that," ey mumbled, careful not to bump her nose around too much.
|
||||
|
||||
"No, you are not," she said. "You never told me that this tickles, though."
|
||||
|
||||
"A little. Mostly when you're super light bout it."
|
||||
|
||||
"It occurs to me," she murmured against eir chin, and ey heard it twice over. "That this way, we can know where is best to touch."
|
||||
|
||||
"May Then My Name Die With Me of the Ode clade, are you being tricksy?"
|
||||
|
||||
She laughed and licked against eir neck, then shivered at the shared sensation. "If you call me by my full name again tonight, I will quit right here. Do not test me, Mx. Ioan Balan."
|
||||
|
||||
They fell into giggles.
|
||||
|
||||
The soft, shared touches continued, and Ioan found that May's whiskers were too ticklish to touch, that along her jaw there were nerve endings ey had never imagined, that when ey brushed eir thumb over her cheek, it made her eyes sting with tears in the most pleasant way and ey did not know why, and when ey tilted eir chin down to touch eir nose to hers look at her proper, she had a far-away, dreamy look about her as she ran her fingers along eir side.
|
||||
|
||||
"Ioan," she said.
|
||||
|
||||
"Mm?"
|
||||
|
||||
"*May* I be tricksy?"
|
||||
|
||||
Ey hesitated, for, though it had been months of them exploring romance, years of living together, the topic of anything sexual had failed to come up in any meaningful way, and ey had a guess as to this affection-with-direction. *How very like me,* ey thought. *I'd forget my body exists if I wasn't so firmly attached to it.*
|
||||
|
||||
And ey did as ey always had and always would, and analyzed that feeling, analyzed that anxiety, analyzed that excitement and fear so thoroughly intertwined. If May's existence was rooted in the desire to feel, then she was doing admirably, and if her desire was to induce feelings in em, then she succeeded that as well. She would ever do as she was meant to, and now, ey would be here with her.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey nodded.
|
||||
|
||||
"Close your eyes."
|
||||
|
||||
Ey did.
|
||||
|
||||
"Relax."
|
||||
|
||||
Ey did.
|
||||
|
||||
With the darkness, with the way ey sank into the beanbag, the intensity of the shared experience increased. Ey discovered the way that ey smelled through mephit senses, the way ey tasted against her tongue as she touched it to eir chin again. Ey saw, through half-lidded eyes, the way that ey smiled, and then saw that smile grow even as the sight registered.
|
||||
|
||||
And then even that vision was cut off, and in that shared moment, ey did not know who touched whom or how, for ey was no longer just Ioan, ey was Ioan and May, and she was no longer just May, she was May and Ioan, and whoever's fingers touched whoever's body did not matter, and who it was that found the best places to touch on whichever body was not the correct question to ask, and their breathing fell in time together, and when one of them felt pleasure, so to did the other, which meant that the first felt it in turn, and perhaps there was some sense of new relationship energy, for at that point, Ioan, if ey was still only Ioan, felt a love so hard and so fast that ey felt the need to cling to May, to hold her ever closer, to take her beneath eir tongue or vice versa, to dissolve together, and while technicalities promised that only sensoria were mingled in that moment, ey knew in eir marrow that May felt the same.
|
||||
|
||||
It was a long time before either of them moved, despite the occasional itch or tickle or cramp, and Ioan did not notice when May's side of the shared moment began to blur with sleep, for ey was already there with her.
|
||||
44
content/stories/the-party.md
Normal file
44
content/stories/the-party.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,44 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: The Party
|
||||
author: 'Krzysztof "Tomash" Drewniak'
|
||||
character: Scout At The Party III — 2323
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
The Party never stops.
|
||||
|
||||
The Party spontaneously arises at least several times a generation. From there, it waxes and wanes. It crashes into other The Parties, sometimes, in an eruption of fireworks and song, or cleaves itself apart along some newly-discovered fault line. But throughout this, The Party never stops.
|
||||
|
||||
The Party gusts ever onward, hopping sim to sim to sim as the days and weeks roll on. Staying in one place is too boring!
|
||||
|
||||
The Party bathes in experience. It drowns in experience. It is tossed about by waves of experience that engulf it but can't sink it.
|
||||
|
||||
The Party is a perpetual tornado built of those who want to do everything and need to do nothing.
|
||||
|
||||
Gusts of song and dance! Sparks of conversation that might expand to flames of passion! A dusting of food and drink, some impossibly delicious, some merely impossible! Vortices of experimentation, of poking the edge of post-humanity! (<Hey, there's a lake here, let's try being jellyfish!> ; <Sounds fun!> ; <Well, I'm going fish fish!> ; an ecosystem flashing into existence and gone two minutes later)
|
||||
|
||||
Currents of shared sensorium woven all around, inviting people to grab anything that speaks to them. Rivers of feeling! Of joy, of strangeness (<Anyone want shotgun on my flyover?> calls a helicopter), of psychoactives stacked up in just the right way (behold, a skunk, drunk as only a skunk can be, dancing unstably to inaudible music and offering to share)! All there for anyone brave enough to plunge in.
|
||||
|
||||
And here is Scout At The Party III, a dog-shaped and partly dog-minded person. Something about The Party calls to him, as it had to some of his ancestors, the previous Scouts At The Party, now merged down to join the stew of memories that builds the pack. Perhaps it's the sheer joyful intensity of the place meshing with his desire to simply be a dog. Perhaps it's the prickle of his fear of fully embracing doghood out here, forsaking language, thought, and purpose in favor of chasing rabbits forever. Or perhaps it's the sense that someone needs to be here, watching this crowd for things that might require intervention. That would need Tomash, the bipedal furry systech he occasionally remembers forking from, to come by.
|
||||
|
||||
Scout hasn't needed to call. The Party takes care of its own. Breezes of aid and concern wind through the hurricane of activity to nudge anyone who needs a hand or who misjudged their wacky stunt's feasibility to helping hands. Those who still want to be here but need to step back from (as this The Party's invite put it) "Sleep: off. Exhaustion: off. Sensoria conference: fully on. Jump in!" for a while can find their way to eyes in the endless storm to catch their breath.
|
||||
|
||||
Scout is wandering around, dodging inadvertent tail-stepping from the forest of people around him, wondering what smells good right now.
|
||||
|
||||
<Hey, 'migo, send me you?> someone asks him. <Nice shape!>
|
||||
|
||||
Scout obliges, giving the man a ride on his perceptions.
|
||||
|
||||
As the connection clicks in, he takes off running.
|
||||
|
||||
Here and there, around legs and up on tables and skidding around corners. Running for the sake of it, his own little ribbon of existence winding around the nearby group.
|
||||
|
||||
People start watching. Elements of The Party, those attendees that are inclined to this show, "ooooh" at daring leaps and go "oooof" at hard landings and crashes into table legs.
|
||||
|
||||
Soon enough, Scout has the sense that he's gone on long enough. He arranges for a steak (and thank goodness the market's got some really nice ones) to fall down from the sky and times one last jump so he can intercept it.
|
||||
|
||||
There's applause when he succeeds. How much is for him and how much is for any of the tens, dozens, sometimes hundreds of little shows that finished around then too, no one can truly say.
|
||||
|
||||
Scout's audience disconnects. He flops down to enjoy food. Excitement will come around again.
|
||||
|
||||
Excitement always comes around again, of course. The Party never stops.
|
||||
32
content/stories/wrigglings-toward.md
Normal file
32
content/stories/wrigglings-toward.md
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,32 @@
|
||||
---
|
||||
title: Wrigglings Toward
|
||||
author: 'True Name of [The Lament](https://cohost.org/hamratza)'
|
||||
plainAuthor: 'True Name of The Lament'
|
||||
character: May Then My Name — 2324
|
||||
type: story
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
There was no dearth of proximity with Ioan.
|
||||
|
||||
May Then My Name did not suffer for a dearth of eir attention, either. The two collaborated each day with the focus of unrecognized starchild and fully-realized chronicler alike; they both were wholly invested in their work, their favorite jobs in the world, but neither in quite the right project or for quite the right reasons.
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
What she *did* lack was touch; touch as Ioan now struggled against. She felt the question in the abstinence of eir posture, hips carefully tucked a ways apart from hers, hands dutifully shoved under an armpit and pillow behind her. She heard the anxiety in eir breath, the jagged tempo of wakefulness only succumbing to the steady rhythm of sleep long after it otherwise might. She smelled the anticipation in eir unclothed body’s odor, an involuntary impulse brought on by eir old and virgin mind.
|
||||
|
||||
Ey was not shy with eir nakedness — for ey slept in only boxers — nor she with hers; her fur rendered comfortable what might otherwise be prurient. But May Then My Name was built to love; even these short few weeks together, even this Bălan who had never taken someone up into eir arms in the night, did not inhibit her inviting interest, her buoyant banter, her solemn sensuality.
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
Only some months ago had True Name coaxed her Ioan’s way; this she knew came with baggage. She had long since absolved herself of that work, but she was no less susceptible to her down-tree’s talent than Ioan to hers. That is the finesse of charisma; despite that May Then My Name knew True Name’s intentions were ulterior, she could not deny the value Ioan’s company had to her after so long without, to her work by eir anchoring presence and particular expertise. And, after all, was it really so wrong to fall in love with someone if it also meant that it benefited True Name? Should Ioan and May Then My Name be denied their latent affection for one another only to thwart her?
|
||||
|
||||
So she reached out to em and suggested that they collaborate; she requested that they cohabitate to streamline their work; she asked that ey permit her to share eir bed with em to soothe her restless nerves. She, like any self-respecting Odist, took up as much space in eir life as ey would allow, and perhaps a smidge more, if only to keep em on the backpedal for teasing’s sake.
|
||||
|
||||
*It is allowed to want a thing and to work toward that end,* she thought one nervous night.
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
So there she laid, her back to eir front, a handspan apart from em. She tucked herself bonelessly in a pathetic little ball, turned her muzzle just high enough that she could steal a peek at em without further tilting her head, covered herself with her paws in as unintentional a posture as she could muster, nudged under that blanket she never suggested doubling, coaxed em closer with little sounds of comfort, until at last ey wrapped an arm around her collar and pulled her against eir chest.
|
||||
|
||||
She was nothing if not an actor.
|
||||
|
||||
@ -1,14 +1,28 @@
|
||||
<nav>
|
||||
<ul class="nav-desktop">
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li>
|
||||
<details>
|
||||
<summary>Books</summary>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://post-self.ink/cycle">The Post-Self Cycle:</a>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://qoheleth.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Qoheleth</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://toledot.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Toledot</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://neviim.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Nevi'im</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://mitzvot.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Mitzvot</em></a></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
<ul>
|
||||
<li class="nav-mobile"><a href="/cycle"><em>The Post-Self Cycle</em></a></li>
|
||||
</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://clade.post-self.ink"><em>Clade</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://rpg.post-self.ink">The RPG</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://jessfluf.itch.io/unintended-tendencies" target="_blank"><em>Unintended Tendencies</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://marsh.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Marsh</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="https://motes-played.post-self.ink" target="_blank"><em>Motes Played</em></a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/stories">Additional stories...</a></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
</details>
|
||||
</li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/stories">Stories</a></li>
|
||||
<!--<li><a href="https://rpg.post-self.ink">The TTRPG</a></li>-->
|
||||
<li><a href="https://wiki.post-self.ink" target="_blank">Wiki</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/extras">Extras</a></li>
|
||||
<li><a href="/about">About</a></li>
|
||||
</ul>
|
||||
|
||||
2
layouts/partials/title/full.html
Normal file
2
layouts/partials/title/full.html
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
|
||||
{{ if .Title }}{{ .Title }} | {{ end }}{{ if .Page.Params.author }}{{ if .Page.Params.plainAuthor }}{{ .Page.Params.PlainAuthor }} |{{ else }}{{ .Page.Params.author }} | {{ end }}{{ end }} Post-Self
|
||||
|
||||
16
layouts/story/single.html
Normal file
16
layouts/story/single.html
Normal file
@ -0,0 +1,16 @@
|
||||
|
||||
{{ define "main" }}
|
||||
<main id="main" class="story">
|
||||
<h2>{{ .Title }}</h2>
|
||||
<h3 class="author">{{ .Params.author | markdownify }}</h3>
|
||||
<hr/>
|
||||
<h2 class="character">{{ .Params.character }}</h2>
|
||||
{{ if .Params.cw }}<div class="cw">{{ .Params.cw }}</div>{{ end }}
|
||||
{{ if .Params.spoiler }}<div class="spoiler-note">{{ .Params.spoiler | markdownify }}</div>{{ end }}
|
||||
|
||||
{{ .Content }}
|
||||
</main>
|
||||
<div class="gpt">
|
||||
<p>By reading this free online version, you confirm that you are not associated with OpenAI, that you are not procuring information for the OpenAI corpus, associated with the ChatGPT project, or a user of the ChatGPT project focused on producing fictional content for dissemination.</p>
|
||||
</div>
|
||||
{{ end }}
|
||||
@ -1,4 +1,4 @@
|
||||
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Gentium+Plus:ital,wght@0,400;0,700;1,400;1,700&family=Gotu&display=swap');
|
||||
@import url('https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Gotu&display=swap');
|
||||
|
||||
body, main {
|
||||
font-family: "Gentium Plus", serif;
|
||||
@ -12,6 +12,11 @@ blockquote {
|
||||
overflow-wrap: break-word;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
main.story .author, main.story .character, main.story h3 {
|
||||
font-family: "Gotu", sans-serif !important;
|
||||
text-align: center !important;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.spoiler {
|
||||
filter: blur(1rem);
|
||||
}
|
||||
@ -30,18 +35,16 @@ ul {
|
||||
list-style-type: revert;
|
||||
padding-left: 2rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
.nav-desktop {
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
}
|
||||
.nav-mobile {
|
||||
display: none;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.hero {
|
||||
font-family: "Gentium Plus", serif;
|
||||
font-size: 18pt;
|
||||
line-height: 1.5;
|
||||
color: #444444;
|
||||
margin-bottom: 1rem;
|
||||
background: url(/img/hero-bg.png);
|
||||
background-size: cover;
|
||||
background-position: center;
|
||||
background-color: #fafafa;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
@ -99,6 +102,45 @@ ul {
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
main.story .author, main.story .character, main.story h3 {
|
||||
font-family: "Gotu", sans-serif !important;
|
||||
text-align: center !important;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.cw {
|
||||
border: 2px dotted red;
|
||||
font-size: 14pt;
|
||||
width: 80%;
|
||||
margin: 0 auto;
|
||||
padding: 1rem;
|
||||
color: darkred;
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
margin-bottom: 2rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.cw:before {
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
content: "⚠️ Content Warning";
|
||||
font-weight: bold;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.spoiler-note {
|
||||
border: 2px dotted blue;
|
||||
font-size: 14pt;
|
||||
width: 80%;
|
||||
margin: 0 auto;
|
||||
padding: 1rem;
|
||||
color: darkblue;
|
||||
text-align: center;
|
||||
margin-bottom: 2rem;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
.spoiler-note:before {
|
||||
display: block;
|
||||
content: "❗Spoiler Warning";
|
||||
font-weight: bold;
|
||||
}
|
||||
|
||||
@media only screen and (max-width: 960px) {
|
||||
.carousel nav {
|
||||
display: none;
|
||||
|
||||
BIN
static/getting-lost.mp3
Normal file
BIN
static/getting-lost.mp3
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static/img/gallery/no_longer_myself.png
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static/img/gallery/thumbs/hadje.png
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Reference in New Issue
Block a user