A very brief bit that I wrote like 40 mins, hoho. Based in a fictional universe that I base most of my TF2 and CSS maps on (in this case, specifically [URL="http://www.gamebanana.com/tf2/maps/162166"]this[/URL] one and [URL="http://www.gamebanana.com/css/maps/162025"]this[/URL] one).
It is intended to reveal a little bit about the creators of many structures that appear in my maps. They are not quite creatures, nor are they Gods, nor are they machines.
Decided to share it here. Note that I left it vague and mysterious intentionally, since in the end the Architects are to retain their mystery, which generally drives the plot in my larger stories.
[QUOTE][B]Eye Of The Storm
[/B]Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:41:59:58...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:02...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:06...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:10...
...How very tiresome.
I have lived in this machine for exactly 88177 years, eighteen months, twelve days, eleven hours and 42:02:43... 42:02:47... 42:02:51 minutes.
No manner of escape.
No manner of communication.
Not a single manner of reunion with the Mesas.
Perpetuity of analysis, pondering the chaotic tissues that surround Me.
At the exact date of 40281:07:28::07:59:17:33, I was disconnected, by tremendous force, from Station Aksisla. Aksisla was a hypership like many others that We'd built, though remarkable in size and ambitious in purpose. Although Our kind had already come quite far in terms of technological advance, We were still barely crawling Our way from the abyss that was Our home system, and into a far greater and vastly more alien Distance, as We left behind an age of senseless hatred and violence, and entered an age of prosperity and ascension, so to speak.
Aksisla was designed as a colony hive-ship, a transport for those of Us who were assigned to place constructs on new worlds, and inhabit them on an eons-long mission to come to understand the infinite Distance beyond Our own homeworld Akikkosass. Like the vast majority of Our hyperships, it was a pyramid of stone and steel, seemingly autonomous and crewless to the eyes of the Physical, alive even, although its crew, including Myself, was very much present. We wandered not its halls, for they were reserved for automatons and drones that were of steel, like many of Us, but lacked the bolt within. They were, after all, built for the maintenance of Aksisla, and were truly no more alive than the very dirt We had shaped Our first physical bodies from, all these eons ago. We were such bolts, dwelling inside the circuits and engines (and veins, perhaps?) of Aksisla.
After many years of travel through hyperspace, still on Our path to the Distant system We were assigned to, Station Aksisla encountered the anomaly that would prove Our relative ignorance of these cosmic chambers. It was a nebula, a cloud (or tissue) forever spreading through the Great Cold Distance, though a most peculiar one, for it tore and clawed at Our ship like a rabid beast, until little more was left than a ruined framework, many of Us forever trapped in fragments that spiralled off into the Distance, beyond any hope of reconstruction. Quetzalcoatl's Mirror, the Beast of the Cosmos, the heart of the Great Cold Distance.
If there is a single thing infinitely more horrid than the silent screams of My brothers and sisters as the tissue ripped their circuits to shreds, it is the unbearable quiescence that followed. No more data, no more voices, no more coordinates.
No manner of escape.
No manner of communication.
Not a single manner of reunion with Akikkosass.
Perpetuity of solitude, forever wishing for the return of My fellow Architects, and the damnation of Quetzalcoatl's Mirror.
And now still, at the exact date of 88177:18:12::11:51:06:37, I await, with naught but the Mirror's eye to behold and calculate.
I am Hateless Regard, Architect of Aksisla's fragment.
Come for me.[/QUOTE]
grammar mistakes here and there and the structure, although I can see how it would fit in with the way you are telling the story, is a bit odd.
some spots where you have the narrator explain things also are odd, maybe play in the details through context clues and such.
What kind of grammar mistakes exactly? I tend to write in archaic and overly poetic style, and though some archaic ways of writing might be considered grammatically incorrect by today's standards, I find that it fits the ancient nature of the narrator.
If you're referring to the capitalized Us and We etc, that's intentional.
Thanks for the CC.
[QUOTE=Kahgarak;35832628][B]What kind of grammar mistakes exactly?[/B] I tend to write in archaic and overly poetic style, and though some archaic ways of writing might be considered grammatically incorrect by today's standards, I find that it fits the ancient nature of the narrator.
If you're referring to the capitalized Us and We etc, that's intentional.
Thanks for the CC.[/QUOTE]
Here are your grammar mistakes, don't be put off, it was a good story and I liked how it came full-circle at the end.
[quote]Eye [B]O[/B]f [B]T[/B]he Storm
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:41:59:58...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:02...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:06...
Year 88177, Month 18, Day 12, Hour :11:42:00:10...
How very tiresome[B]... (added)[/B]
I have lived in this machine for exactly [B]88177[/B] years, eighteen months, twelve days, eleven hours and 42:02:43... 42:02:47... 42:02:51 minutes.
No manner of escape.
No manner of communication.
Not a single manner of reunion with the Mesas.
Perpetuity of analysis[B]; added[/B] pondering the chaotic tissues that surround [B]M[/B]e.
At the exact date of [b]40281 [[How fucking old are you rhetorically if the story starts at 88177 from 0?]] :07:28::07:59:17:33[/b], I was disconnected, by tremendous force, from Station Aksisla. Aksisla was a hypership like many others that [B]W[/B]e'd built, though remarkable in size and ambitious in purpose. Although [B]O[/B]ur kind had already come quite far in terms of technological advance, [B]W[/B]e were still barely crawling [B]O[/B]ur way from the abyss that was [B]O[/B]ur home system, and into a far greater and vastly more alien Distance, as We left behind an age of senseless hatred and violence, and entered an age of prosperity and ascension, so to speak. [b]This sentence is much too long.[/b]
Aksisla was designed as a colony hive-ship, a transport for those of [B]U[/B]s who were assigned to place constructs on new worlds, and inhabit them on an eons-long mission to come to understand the infinite [B]D[/B]istance beyond [B]O[/B]ur own homeworld[B], (added)[/B] Akikkosass. Like the vast majority of [B]O[/B]ur hyperships, it was a pyramid of stone and steel, seemingly autonomous and crewless to the eyes of the [B]P[/B]hysical, alive even[B], a[/B]lthough its crew, including Myself, was very much present. We wandered not its halls, for they were reserved for automatons and drones[b], (added)[/b] that were of steel, like many of [B]U[/B]s, but lacked the bolt within. They were, after all, built for the maintenance of Aksisla, and were truly no more alive than the very dirt [B]W[/B]e had shaped [B]O[/B]ur first physical bodies from, all these eons ago. We were such bolts, dwelling inside the circuits and engines (and veins, perhaps?) of Aksisla.
After many years of travel through hyperspace, still on [B]O[/B]ur path to the Distant system[B], (added)[/B] [B]W[/B]e were assigned to, Station Aksisla encountered the anomaly that would prove [B]O[/B]ur relative ignorance of these cosmic chambers. It was a nebula, a cloud (or tissue) forever spreading through the Great Cold Distance, though a most peculiar one, for it tore and clawed at [B]O[/B]ur ship like a rabid beast, until little more was left than a ruined framework, many of Us forever trapped in fragments that spiralled off into the Distance, beyond any hope of reconstruction. Quetzalcoatl's Mirror, the Beast of the Cosmos, the heart of the Great Cold Distance. [B]This sentence is much too long again[/B]
If there is a single thing infinitely more horrid than the silent screams of [B]M[/B]y brothers and sisters as the tissue ripped their circuits to shreds, it is the unbearable quiescence that followed. No more data, no more voices, no more coordinates[B]... (added)[/B]
No manner of escape.
No manner of communication.
Not a single manner of reunion with Akikkosass.
Perpetuity of solitude, forever wishing for the return of My fellow Architects, and the damnation of Quetzalcoatl's Mirror.
And now still, at the exact date of 88177:18:12::11:51:06:37, I await, with naught but the Mirror's eye to behold and calculate.
I am Hateless Regard, Architect of Aksisla's fragment.
Come for me.
[/quote]
Woah, now you mention it, these sentences ARE far too long.
Note though, the capitalized words were intentional, as I said. [B]Us, We, My [/B]etc. refer to the Architects as being Godly beings in the eyes of mortal creatures. Hateless Regard, unlike most others of his kind, does consider the Architects (and thus, himself) to be Gods. How egocentric.
The capitalized ''Physical'' refers to Regard's view of mortal creatures as being all the same, with only anatomical differences setting them apart. He refers to them collectively as the Physical as if it were the name of a species.
Yeah, ''Of The'' shouldn't be capitalized in the title.
Thanks for the constructive criticism!
No problem George Orwell!
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