in_nomine-digest Friday, January 11 2002 Volume 01 : Number 2509 In this digest: Re: IN> pax question Re: IN> pax question Re: IN> IN Atlantis IN> Matrix Re: IN> Matrix Re: IN> Matrix Re: IN> [Story] Brothers in Arms Re: IN> Matrix IN> Failure Re: IN> Failure IN> Story: P(l)ayback ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 15:39:48 -0500 From: Elizabeth McCoy Subject: Re: IN> pax question At 8:27 PM -0500 1/9/02, Tyler Childers wrote: >Would there be any objection to a Ethereal Spirit "evolving" into a >Celelstial ArchAngel? In canon? Sort of. It would basically intrude on the CDaU (what few shreds of it are attached, anyway) of the "Was Yaweh An Ethereal?" question. So you're on your own about it. O:> In kick-the-canon (i.e., your own games)? Hey, it's your game! Go for it. I think AA Galahad is somewhere around here, hanging out with... Moe? - --emccoy@nh.ultranet.com // arcangel@io.com In Nomine Line Editor RPG links; Random name list, Art: http://www.io.com/~arcangel/ ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 20:39:11 From: "Charles Glasgow" Subject: Re: IN> pax question >From: Elizabeth McCoy >Subject: Re: IN> pax question >Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 15:39:48 -0500 [snip] >In kick-the-canon (i.e., your own games)? Hey, it's your game! Go for it. I >think AA Galahad is somewhere around here, hanging out with... Moe? Who *else*? :-) - -- Chuckg (Yup, it's Moe.) _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 17:47:06 -0500 From: "William J. Keith" Subject: Re: IN> IN Atlantis > Atlantis would make an interesting wrinkle in an IN: Mare >Imbrium campaign (which I've heard nothing about in a >while, btw...). That's because nothing's being done on it. I've been asked for information about it by a GM, and happily provided what I had, but as of right now it's in the "maybe I'll do some more with this some day" file. I really would like to, so don't give up hope. Like I've said before, thanks to those who expressed interest, either in using Mare Imbrium or writing for it. William ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 21:00:26 -0500 (EST) From: jamoge@wm.edu Subject: IN> Matrix Okay, this came about because of the question of why one would want to play as a demon in In Nomine. I've been stuffing myself to the brim with IN canon during this X-mas season, and among that was the explanation of playing IN backwards, with demons as the freedom fighters and angels as the upholders of a Heaven's tyranny. This combined with another idea of mine to produce the below. As for the size... I hope that this isn't too large for the list. And I apologize if anyone is offended by Keanu Reeves. In Nomine Matrix (as told in, probably, three parts.) The World is a Lie Listen to me kid. The Truth that the angels keep talking about is nothing more than a computer simulation. A bunch of 1s and 0s that make up a world for them to use to harvest our essence. We're crops to them, vegetables they farm to feast on and grow stronger. This is the way its been for a long time. What was it like before? How should I know? I wasn't there. I came from the same place you did, an embryo factory. We're nothing. Just a bunch of essence generating pillars of DNA. And they call us demons? Nah, they created this... this Hell... What? Yeah, you're looking at a bonafide demon. Yeah, don't look like much do I? Well, that's because we're here, in the Celestial. It's what we call the real world, the world they haven't been able to completely subvert yet. There isn't much left, and what is left... well... we're just glad that we aren't still stuck in the Corporeal. Wha? Yeah, good guess. The Corporeal is the fantasy world, the 'Symphony' as the angels call it. They do have their own place in the Celestial of course, they even call it Heaven. Bastards... I've seen pictures of the place... Well anyway, we got you out because you seem to have what it takes to join us. That, and you were kicking the crap out of an angel. Yeah, that guy with the shades and ear-plug. I know he didn't look like an angel, but he was. I saw the play-back. You nearly killed a Kyrio. HEY! I'm talking to the kid! Yeah, I know that kyrio isn't the way-... hey you want to explain this?! Good... now, where was I... oh yeah, as my favorite Habbalite over there was so kindly telling me, the angel you attacked is called a 'Kyriotate'. It's a ghost-in-the-machine sort of thing that doesn't have its own corporeal image in the Symphony, but it can jump into anyone else's. Thats why the cute chick you were taking out to the movies suddenly was a middle- aged guy trying to pistol whip you. Guess he must've been one of Michael's, they're the only ones that can create their own image after they've taken one over. You're lucky to be alive. Michael? He's an Archangel, one of the Symphony's original programmers. His angels are designed to kick the crap out of anything they want to. That's why we figured that you were something special when you not only kicked the Kyrio's ass but knocked him five yards away by looking at him. Showed that you were already tapping into your own essence. That's good, you'll make a great Calabite. What? Oh yeah, guess I should explain this stuff a bit better. Okay, us demons, we're hackers, crackers, and phreaks of the Symphony. The oldest amongst us realized what was going on, broke free, got together on the Celestial, then figured out how to hack their way back into the Symphony. Then they started looking for allies, like me and you, people who realized that reality isn't what we were being told it was. The original demons were actually Archangels and angels that decided that using humanity as a renewable resource just wasn't right. The very first was Lucifer. He was one of the original designers. I mean, the guy helped create all of this, the Corporeal and Celestial. He figured out the truth though, and helped shed a bit of light on the subject for others. Took about a third of the original 'Host' with him. The Host is what we call the angels, they're the Host to the Corporeal, after all. Lucifer and the other original demons have spent the last however-many years trying to figure out a way to bring down the Symphony. Meanwhile, they look though the Corporeal, find people like us, and then bring them out, kicking and screaming. Course, they usually thank us afterwards. Usually. There are the weird cases though. Hell, the Habbalah are all weird cases. They think they're angels, protecting the Symphony where it needs it most, with us rebels. Course, the way they protect it is by ripping out anyone they think is too weak to stay in the Symphony, which means more people brought to reality and our side. The really weird cases, though, are the people we bring out, who are just too locked into the Symphony. They want to stay there with machines feeding on them constantly. I say fine, let them go get their essence drained and their ethereal forces recycled as protein paste for the next generation, doesn't matter to me. Course, I don't work for Asmodeus. Whu? Oh yeah, Asmodeus is one of the Demon Princes, the higher-ups that Lucifer has set to make sure we know what we're doing and have support when we need it. Asmodeus is the Demon Prince of the Game. He supervises a lot of the Corporeal missions. He's also the guy that hunts down our Renegades, people who want to go back to the Symphony so much they'd be willing to betray us to get there. I don't know, I think Asmodeus is spread a bit too thin. He's pretty demanding, he even has his demons personally cyber-link with him once a month so that he can keep tabs on everything. A real nano-manager, you know? Me? I work for Baal, Demon Prince of the War. He worked for Michael before the original Rebellion, but now he sets us up against Michael as much as possible. That's why I pulled you out of their so fast. A) You seem to have what it takes to be a Baalite and B) you've got a hell of a natural talent for the Calabite resonance. Oh, yeah. Damn, keep forgetting to explain things. Okay, sorry, here goes- First, you've got your Balseraphs. These guys are the ones usually set upfor the anti-Symphony propaganda, though the other Demon Princes have plenty of more subtle uses for them. The angels call 'em Liars of course, and Balseraphs have taken to the name, but what comes from the lips is Lucifer's honest truth. They can insert a vocal-command into any person so long as the two images' are in eye-contact. It's like hypnosis. They can cause a person to see the Truth behind the Symphony. Course, if they fail and get locked out or if the angels come along soon after and tells them the Symphony's version of the truth, the backlash is like feedback on a microphone, the Liar gets hit with dissonance. Course, the Liar can try to use his resonance again to work off the dissonance, but if he fails again he'll get two notes of dissonance since the feedback loop is even worse than before. Usually, the Liar'll stop then. It'll only get worse if he keeps failing at using his resonance. The more dissonance, the harder it is to hack into the Symphony, but you can convert the dissonance into Discord. Course, that just means that when you do appear in the Corporeal, you'll look bizarre. Some Discord affects your image, some affects your mentality inside the Symphony, some makes your connection back to the Celestial strained. The latter's the most dangerous. Too much of that, and you won't be able to use a tether- phone to come back to the Celestial. Anyway, next on the list is the Djinn. Now, these are just sorry sonobitches. They're apathetic as hell. Basically, when they came out of the Symphony they almost became weird cases, but realized that the Symphony was really worse than the Celestial. So, they stuck it out enough not to become Renegades. Ironically, Asmodeus is a djinn. Makes you think, huh? So the Djinn can put a tracer virus on anyone whose image he touches. Some Princes use 'em for keeping an eye on potential recruits, others for Renegades, some they use as guards since the pattern- image the Djinn uses his resonance on doesn't have to be human. Once they've used their resonance they can keep appraised of their targets just by triggering the resonance again. Fortunately the resonance is so low- key that the Symphony doens't really react to it, but, and this is a big but, the Djinn can't help or hurt their targets. If they DO help or harm, the Symphony'll notice and the Djinn will get slapped with dissonance. Now, this is usually when the Djinn get into trouble. If the Djinn hurt his attuned, he'll try to break the attunement. If that fails, he gets hit with dissonance again. If he originally tried to help his attuned, well, the Djinn just starts getting sloppy. He'll try to keep helping the attuned in order to appear as a Cherub to the Symphony. Hmm? Oh, the Cherubim are another kind of angel. They can also select individual images to attune to. Course, the Symphony wants the angels to protect their attuned, so they get dissonant if they act like our Stalkers, that's what angels call Djinn. Next on the list is you and me, buddy-boy. Calabim, the Destroyers. We don't act subtle, because we don't have to. I like to think we embody the inevitable act of entropy that will bring down the Symphony and destroy the Corporeal. Poetry aside, I get a kick out of wailing on angels, the Corporeal, and the Symphony, and our resonance works like a charm for just that. We seem to born with something a bit different about us, don't know what it is but because of it we can 'push' the Symphony in a way it doesn't like. Course, we pay for it by not being able to come into the Corporeal correctly. Look, just so you know now, the first couple of times you download to the Corporeal, you're going to hurt. A lot. It gets better eventually, but you don't get over it. Maybe because of what we can do to it, the Symphony doesn't like us, and takes our presence a bit personally. When you're Corporeal, you're going to suffer Discord. You can't get rid of it like other demons can, by asking their Princes' for help. You just have to suffer it. But because of that twist in our interaction with the Corporeal, we get a little bit in exchange. For one thing, we never have to worry about not having a weapon. Remember when you were up against the Kyrio? You kinda looked at it and then it slammed back against the wall? That was your proto-resonance, trying to impose itself. Remember your migraine afterward? That was the Symphony's reaction. Our resonance works against the Symphony's programming directly. Instead of influencing pieces of the Symphony, we get to hit the Symphony with a giant invisible hammer, well, that's how I see it. Others see their resonance in a more insidious sense, kinda like drops of water slowly rusting and breaking the Symphony's framework. You seem more of the hammer type. Now, if you happen to be in Celestial form while in the Corporeal, well, you get to do damage straight to an angel's, or demon's, Celestial form. Huh? Oh, they'll explain that part later. Dissonance for us? Oh well, don't get hit by your own powers. It can happen if your resonance is defended against. The Symphony just bounces your hammer back at you. You can either let yourself get smacked in the face, and take dissonance when the Symphony finds you, or you can re-direct it elsewhere and hope it lands this time. Okay, so we've got the first three down. Now comes the weirdos. Habbalah. Like I said before, these guys are wacked in the head. They think they're angels, agents of the Symphony. Some even dress like it when they're Corporeal. But when they're on the Celestial, you can always tell Habbalah by the piercings, cuttings, and tattoos. They think the pain lets them deal with the rejection of the Symphony. I think they are, one and all, destined for major breakdown in el cabesa. Still, some of the best crackers are Habbalah. Their resonance employs a virus that only they can cook up. It causes the Symphony to adjust the chemical stimulants it gives people in order to make them use their essence at certain times. The Habbalah thus can shift a person's emotions, making them Angry, or Sad, or even in Love. They've got a special one too, called Emptiness. If they use that, the Symphony drains out ALL chemicals its been using on the person. This basically wakes the person up, causing them to realize the Symphony is fake and that the Corporeal isn't reality. Habbalah tend to use this as a last resort, for when they want to weed the weak out of their precious delusion. The reason is that like our resonance, the Symphony can detect the Habbalah virus. When that happens, that particular use of the virus gets re-rounted back to the Habbalite that used it and they have to either take dissonance, or suffer a temporary Ethereal discord that will mimic what they tried to impose upon the person who successfully resisted. Habbalah tend to choose the emotions, which they can reconcile as being their own. They can't reconcile dissonance inflicted by their wonderful Symphony, but above all, they cannot stand having Emptiness reflected back at them though. That just messes them up even more. A Habbalite under Emptiness will A) be free of the belief that the Symphony is good and B) become ironclad convinced that it is an Elohite, another type of angel. Weird, huh? Guess that's why they're called Punishers... we're being constantly punished by having to hang out with those nut-jobs. The next band of demon (yeah, we use band as a grouping name. Band of demon, choir of angels, pride of lions, sty of Dominicans, that sorta thing.) is unique to us. The Host doesn't have many of these gals, and Asmodeus tries to keep it that way. He hunts down these Renegades more than any other. They're called Lilim. Interesting thing about Lilim is that they are not factory-made. They're 100 percent, all-natural. Yep, born in the Celestial. Some go at it as Free Lilim. Others seek service under Demon Princes, usually trading independence for a great attunement program. Either way, Lilim, once they get the necessary linkware installed, can access the Symphony just as easily as any factory-born. And they have a handy little program. Since they were never a part of the Symphony, Lilim are immune to the Kyrio resonance. Further, they gift others with that immunity by geasing them. All it takes is for a Lilim to do a favor for someone and have them acknowledge that they owe the Lilim. Until the Lilim calls in the favor, the person is free from Kyrio- possession. Course, if the angel tries to possess the person, and can't, the Symphony will react. It won't cause dissonance, but it may cause Cherubs to attune to the geased image to see who they owe a favor to. That is problem one. Problem two comes when the Lilim calls in her geas. If the target complies, thats great. If the target puts up a fight and succeeds, the Symphony will figure out who the geas-holder is and slap her with dissonance. Yeah, her. For some reason, most Tempters (I'll explain when you're older, kid) are female. Must have something to do with Lilith. Huh? Oh, Lilith is an interesting one. She was the first factory-born pulled out of the Symphony. She's the one that broke the Hadean-Lock, the passcode that kept Lucifer and the Demon Princes from messing with the Symphony. Lucifer named her Princess of Freedom for that. Now, while an unfulfilled geas means no Kyrio, it doesn't mean jack to the bad-boys of hacking, Shedim. These guys are amazing. We get strapped in, and download our minds into digital images, but at least we have full control of what we do. Shedim though, they've sacrificed direct power for pure subtlety. They aren't downloaded into the Symphony, but instead act like Kyrios, bouncing around, looking for hosts. They can use their resonance to align their Ethereal frequency with the host image's Corporeal frequency, becoming an invisible rider. At first the person doesn't even realize he's Shedim-ridden, and won't so long as the Shedite doesn't do something stupid to blow his cover. The Shedim can't fully control the image, but they can shift the attitude of the person they control, making them work against the Sypmphony, slowly at first, but increasingly rebellious to the norms of the Symphony every day of possession. That's why angels call em 'Corrupters', becausing their screwing around with the oh so precious Symphony. If they don't act for a day, the Symphony will notice a frequency that isn't being used and the Shedite gets hit with the dissonance-bat. They also get hit if they allow a possessed image to die. If that happens, Shedim get to mimic the Trauma other celestials have when their image- vessel dies. Oh, and Kyriotates hate Shedim with a passion. I guess the idea of someone mirroring their resonance, and a DEMON to boot is too much for the Kyrios. Fortunately, the Symphony's habit of smacking with dissonance every Kyrio that hurts their human host image keeps the Corporeal fighting down. And then there was one... Imp..u..dites... Peh. I hate these essence-sucking, phreaks. Oh sure, they've got a good aural tone that can charm the socks of every image they use it on, but they're no better than the Symphony. Okay, the resonance of the Imps allows them to change a person's reaction to the Imp. The person so affected will fall over themselves trying to help the Imp. The Imp can then take advantage of the image by draining their essence. Course if the Symphony's already gotten it, they'll come up empty. The good news about them is that they need us. They can't hurt people's images. The reason is that they try to masquerade as their angelic equivalent, Mercurians. Since the Mercurians can't harm humans, Imps try to follow in the same vein. If they don't, the Symphony will realize what they are and they'll suffer dissonance. Me? I think they're nothing more than a low-grade version of the Symphony, grabbing what isn't theirs. Course, Takers are good for something at times. Do you have any idea how useful a little essence can be? No, not yet I guess... Well, here's some mechanics on the Symphony. Since we're hacking into it, we're aware of things that go on in the Symphony and how the Corporeal is made up. All we need to do is use a vocal or sub-vocal/thought command to cause a signal in the Symphony. That'll cause different effects, depending on the Song you use. This is known as Phreaking. To produce a signal that will affect the Symphony, though, they need to power it with essence. Essence is the key here. Essence is the uber-power, the quintessencial fuel for the Symphony. We're natural essence generators. We refill a bit every evening, Celestial/Corporeal time. Angels get a refill from the Symphony every dawn. People still plugged into the Symphony regenerate a bit at noon. The whole reason the Corporeal exists is for the harvest of essence. The Symphony runs off of the stuff. You see... back before it all began, before we split into angels and demons, before the Symphony ever existed... there was the human race. Homo sapien. About 6 or 7 billion. They had finally managed to pull together long enough to score a major success, the creation of a fully contained existence separate from humanity. The internet was the first step, the cyber- link was the second, but this... this was light-years beyond anything created before. Course, took less than six months before mankind figured out a way to go to war with it. I heard that Lucifer finds it highly ironic that he, one of the programmers, is refered to as the Fallen Archangel of Light. You see, before the worst of it happened and the Symphony took over, there was a real world, with a star giving it energy. There was life that wasn't prolonged by machines and a planet that had evolved from star dust. Humanity figured out that the machines had to have solar energy to sustain their existence. Not a hard thing to figure out. So what did humanity do? There must still be a sun out there... its just that we can't see it. So yeah, this had to be around 2100 or so, can't really tell. What? 2002? Hell no. Thats just what they say. Nah, it's been anywhere from a hundred to a thousand years since the sky was scarred. Why? Because I've seen records. Yeah, they are that old. How should I know? I'm not a Demon Prince. Okay, you want a guess, a rumor, or a maybe? A guess? Okay. Well, I think they aren't human anymore. I think they sacrificed a part of themselves, their mortality to fight fire with fire. They've become parts of the machine, stuck in the Celestial and interacting in the Corporeal with us. Course, they could just use really, really good anti- aging cream and nutrient baths. C'mon kid, time we had you see the rest of the Celestial. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 18:57:03 -0800 From: "Phillip Des Jardins" Subject: Re: IN> Matrix An interesting take on merging the subjects. I'm looking forward to see where you go with this, as well as what other changes you make. God help me, it sounds like a backwards campaign I'd enjoy. Phillip, the Happy Shiny Mercurian "Hey! That's not what we use vessels for, mister!" ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 10 Jan 2002 21:34:23 -0600 From: "Prodigal" Subject: Re: IN> Matrix WOW! This is an interesting take on the game - Nice work. ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 10:14:18 +0100 From: "Donato Ranzato" Subject: Re: IN> [Story] Brothers in Arms From: "Ruth Evers" > Beautiful- subtle- oh, please write more! > (I'm jealous!) Thanks for the positive feedback. As I am a bit insecure about this I really appreciate it. I don't know if I will continue with the story as I think it is best to leave it to the reader's imagination what happens next. But I will think about another short story. Unless of course people object :-) Thanks again, Donato Ranzato ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 10:28:05 +0100 From: "Donato Ranzato" Subject: Re: IN> Matrix From: > In Nomine Matrix (as told in, probably, three parts.) Intriguing and suprisingly suitable for an In Nomine conversion. I guess Neo was then a bit like Kronos, a creature with direct access to original programming code. On the other hand, Kronos would be more like the Seer Neo visits to learn what his Destiny/Fate is. Well, enough speculation. I am looking forward to the other two parts. Donato Ranzato ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 14:26:52 +0000 From: "Jo Hart" Subject: IN> Failure - --"I ... don't think the band is going to work out." The voice on the other end of the phone was irritable. John Baker turned to look out of the window, gazing out onto skies that seemed suddenly leaden, and buildings adorned with sullen lumpy pigeons. - --"Are you listening, John?" For a long time there was no answer. Then the man's face twisted, "Yes." - --"Oh for chrissake. You know it as well as I do. I'm tired of playing in run-down pubs in the middle of nowhere to three men and a dog. I'm just tired." "So it's over, then." John stared harder at the pigeons. "We've only been doing band stuff together since we were ... what was it? 16?" - --"So we wasted our time." The other sounded resigned. "It was never going to come to anything, and maybe it's time to ... I don't know ... grow up and face facts." John shrugged, although there was no-one to see. "Alright then. It's your show, and if you're sick of it then I suppose we stop. But I don't know what's come over you, Si. I always thought the band was ... as important to you as it is to me. I guess not." At the far end, the Shedite giggled silently to itself, coiling little mental tendrils lovingly around its host's emotional centres.<< Another worm feels the touch of futility. Rock on! >> - -- Sij, Shedite of Fate Demon of Failure Some people would say that going to Hell is the ultimate failure. Others (many of them servitors of Baal or Vapula) would calmly have the speaker flogged or assigned to 'reconditioning' for such insipid sentiments. Brave or stupid demons have occasionally thought of asking Kronos, the Prince of Fate, whether reaching ones fate should be viewed as having flunked the great game of life, but since he generally makes himself unavailable to minor peons, the questions have remained unasked. - -- "Ah. Lord Kronos. What a pleasant surprise to find you here." "This is my archive. Where else should I be?" "Why, wherever the fancy takes you." *pause* "You wished to speak with me." "Once again, your perspicacity dwarfs my puny excuse for an intellect! Can I interest you in a coffee?" *silence* "Game of chess? Bridge? GURPS?" "My time is limited, Lord Kobal. Ask your question and then begone." "Just making light conversation to put you at your ease. We can cut to the chase, though. What does it feel like to be a failure?" Kronos smiled thinly. "Enquire within your own shallow heart," he advised. "This audience is over." - -- Sij is an unremarkable demon in possession (sic) of a quite remarkable word. He doesn't know why Lucifer gave it to him, but he has held it successfully for centuries, managing to avoid ever gaining any rank within the Archives despite his increasing power and experience. He is a gleeful, malicious demon, who takes great pleasure in tasting the misery of others as their hopes and dreams are destroyed. He is subtle, and careful, and rarely allows himself the thrill of riding a host all the way to self-destruction. His word is Failure, and he his favourite way to foster it is to play on his hosts private fears and anxieties, and on those hopes for the future that are based on self-deception. His most common MO is to locate a youngish host, and show him how many of his idealistic dreams are utterly futile. If they weren't futile before the demon took hold, they soon will be. In fact, with correct host selection, entire armies can lose their morale as the certainty of failure strikes them down like a knife ... almost guaranteeing that failure will in fact follow. Unsurprisingly, both Baal and Michael detest the Word of Failure, wishing it only on their opponents. Sij is less picky, but goes where his master sends him, dumbly delighted to have another victim at whom to preach. Oh yes, he's a religious demon which is quite unusual in a Shedite. He whispers softly to his hosts that the truth will set them free, and that unholy ambition is hubris and should be avoided. He teaches them that they too should join the cult of failure and help other less wise souls to free themselves from the constant drive to compete and win. For the demon, it is a game. Crushing souls while they are yet living is a game. But, as he would argue himself, if they didn't get so over-wrought with winning, they shouldn't be so depressed at losing. - -- "Humanity, you are a terribly bad loser." -- Sij _________________________________________________________________ Join the world s largest e-mail service with MSN Hotmail. http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 10:30:44 -0800 (PST) From: Michael Walton Subject: Re: IN> Failure - --- Jo Hart wrote: > Sij, Shedite of Fate > Demon of Failure I like it! Just one question; does Sij get Dissonance every time he _succeeds_ at something? };> ===== Michael Walton, #9805-068 Existential fast food slogan: "Why's the beef?" __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Send FREE video emails in Yahoo! Mail! http://promo.yahoo.com/videomail/ ------------------------------ Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2002 15:30:43 -0500 From: David Wood Subject: IN> Story: P(l)ayback "Strike even the face of Buddha three times, and he will become angry." As one who long ago convinced himself of the non-existence of God, Trezontalo had to chalk his recent streak of bad luck up to things just not going his way. It simply *couldn't* have been someone with a desperate angry and cruel streak trying to get back at him. He also had to convince himself that he was able to handle the situation, nay, *any* situation that came up. It's what any self-respecting Balseraph of the Media would do. Some said that Trezontalo was headed for trouble. Between the Dissonance and Discord of missed deadlines and his own handling of the situation by trivializing his problems with his own band Resonance, he was dead certain of his own invincibility. So in his own mind, extorting the assistance of an Archangel made perfect sense to him. "The Singing Parrot" near USC was a frowzy, run-down place in the throes of chaotically changing ownership. You could make out faded palm tree shapes in the paint on the back wall where the sun bleached around something, the something was taken down, and not quite completely painted over. Dark woods and brass fixtures were put in at some point, and then later the parrot-head paraphernalia began to re-emerge. The bar sported taps for both Guinness and Corona. Styles conflicted, like an island off of Key West were dragged kicking and screaming to a point off the coast of Ireland, and then dragged back just as unwillingly. It was in this cheerful alcohol-buzzed confusion that "Trent" learned that he could find his target. And he considered it quite a feat... even Dominic couldn't do that. He strutted over to the table where the target was sitting and entertaining three women with a little electronic piano with half-sized keys, and playing it like a virtuoso. Trent announced himself by telling the assembled there, "You and I need to *talk*." The ladies at the table took one look at him and recoiled... obviously they recognized power like his at first glance and couldn't cope. They got up, hiding their fear with looks of distaste, and moved into an adjoining room. By twos and threes, everyone else got up and moved to the other room as well. Yeah, they feared him. Except for the man sitting at the table in front of him; he looked up through the long black hair hanging over his sparkling green eyes, wearing a rumpled faux-suede jacket festooned with patches from all over the world over an equally rumpled Hawaiian shirt. And while he looked mildly surprised and confused, his fingers continued to dance on the little keyboard, playing a tinkly little diminished-seventh terror chord. Finally, at some length, he finally stopped playing, pointed to himself, and said "Moi?" Trent sneered and said "Oui, vois. I'm in trouble here, and you're going to help me out." With an almost feigned innocence, the other man said "I am?" Trent started to grow impatience at the archangel's either coyness or cluelessness. "Yes you *are*... and don't start with me, this has been a really bad month for me." "Awwww... that's too bad. What happened?" Trent completely failed to register his companion's sarcasm. Trent softened a little, since he was showing such compassion, and said, "Well, first off, I had this girl on my writing staff named Calais--" "Calais Dubois, I knew her--" "I know, that's why I *scouted* her out." Trent smiled at having gotten the upper hand on the sniveling, obtuse archangel previously, and demonstrated his pleasure by stressing 'scouted.' "But then she burns out, can't produce anything worthy, and finally the bitch kills herself. If I'd known she was that temperamental--" His companion scowled and asked, "Do you think the sex, drugs, and overly aggressive schedule might have had anything to do with it?" Trent shrugged and said, "Well, we have a lot of product to put out, a lot of my writers are *happier* once they're hooked on blow, and she sure seemed to enjoy the sex too... those were some of Andr駳 finest 'performers,' too. I suppose you're going to gloat now that you got her back, right?" His companion shook his head solemnly and told him, "I didn't get her. She didn't meet her Destiny, so her forces scattered when she died." Trent pondered Calais' soul-death for a few moments before finally shrugging and saying "Oops." His companion was silent, though he looked troubled. Or pensive. Just thinking about something. Had any other demon seen that look on an archangel, even *that* one, they would have probably panicked and fled. But not old Trent -- he was invincible. He could handle anything. He continued with his story. "The next thing I know, everyone's blowing Calais' death all out of proportion. Sex, drugs, self-inflicted gunshot wounds... like all that's anything new for Hollywood, right? I had to cannibalize one of the studio's other projects to staff the PR machine to spin down the scandal--" His companion broke in again, casually mentioning, "And because you did that, the movie project based on a very good book will flop, and both may well sink into obscurity." Trent was actually amused at that, and retorted "A 'very good book'? It was too long, and the message was pretentious. Nobody would have bought it. Besides, it wasn't my project, so it was *crap*." Again, his companion remained silent and gave Trent a look which would have given any sensible demon paroxysms of terror. Trent continued once again with his story; as discordant as he was, he was blissfully insensate. "So there I am, short-staffed and throwing resources at PR, so I have to get new staff. You know one of the new writers I tried to contract tried to blow the whistle on my operation?" His companion nodded. "He *did*. I heard the whole story from him." Trent looked surprised, and then pleased. "Really? Wow, he was good... I'm not sorry I had him killed now." His companion scowled. "I know that too." Trent continued, still oblivious to any peril. "And after that, *that's* when everything started going wrong. Somehow my budget got slashed, and someone embezzled all my project money--" "Tsk. Someone in bookkeeping must have gotten creative with your finances." His companion tossed out the comment quite innocently, and Trent made nothing of it. "And then someone files a class action suit against my project and half my writers walk out on me. There's nothing I could do about it either, they found this incredible loophole in the writers' contract--" Once again, his companion said, quite innocently, "Some lawyer must have seen your contract and been inspired." Trent almost began to suspect something there and then, but as had become his habit, he convinced himself that he could handle it. "Uhhhhh, yeah. And here I thought we were supposed to get all the lawyers, too. Anyway, there I am busting my hump trying to make up for lost content, and fending off lawyers, and now I'm way behind and feeling the pinch. That's where you come in." "It is?" Trent's companion said it again with a tone of innocence that he found infuriating, almost galling. Trent decided to stop playing nice. "Yes it *is*, mister so-called archangel... I know you have the people because I leaned on them and they pointed you out to me. I know you've got the people, I know you've got the power, and The Big N has been trying to contract you ever since. So are you going to help me, or do I have to start breaking things?" Trent demonstrated that he could by reaching down and crunching the little keyboard on the table into plastic shards and broken components with his fingertips. And then his companion did something surprising, even alarming: he agreed. "Now now, let's not get violent... there may be something I can do--" He continued talking, but the choir singing around him drowned him out and the light nearly blinded him. Threads of light and energy passed through his fingers as he worked the air like a lump of clay and something began to take shape... "...were my friends..." "...unthinking..." "...never again..." Trent watched in awe. He didn't know how the being would help, and here he was receiving the benefits of all of his power. This was too easy! When the lights died down, his companion was fiddling with a white box with a single large red button and a whitish wand-like protrusion. "And this will help you on your way. Charge it with a little Essence, hit the button, and all the demonic media around you will increase in value one hundredfold." "...that's it?" Trent was still stunned from the light show, and a little wary of the thing which resembled a movie prop. But he could plainly see that it was an Artifact of some sort, though he couldn't tell what it did. "Charge it, press the button, and voom?" His companion smiled. "That's it. Charge it, press the button, and ...voom." Again, any sensible demon would have taken warning from the being's knowing smile, but again, Trent was anything but sensible. "And if you have any trouble with it, come back here. You know how to find me." Trent was elated. Here was what he needed to get ahead of the content-production ratrace, and he got the help from no one less than an archangel at that. He took the box and walked out with a definite swagger in his step. Once he was gone, the people who were watching all of this from the other room started streaming back in. One of them finally asked, "Was that a good idea?" The man, still seated at the table and brushing aside crunched chunks of keyboard, said, "No... it was a *great* idea." Another asked, "What will he do when he comes back?" The man reached up into thin air and produced another little electronic keyboard. "Don't worry... he won't be back." And he turned the little keyboard on and started playing 'Happy Days Are Here Again.' Trent returned to his apartment and looked around. Scripts littered the floors waiting to be read, CDs and DVDs sat on shelves waiting to be viewed, and self-adhesive notes littered the walls, the refrigerator, and his computer, waiting to be acted upon. All those were secondary at that moment because Trent had his ...say, what was it? Something told him he should be careful, but then he put that thought out of his mind yet again, focusing on his authority and invulnerability. He couldn't even let *himself* think he was weak. Whatever it was, he cowed an *archangel* into giving it to him, so it *must* be good. He let some Essence trickle into the device, and the plastic wand-tip started to glow a dim rosy color. He put in more Essence, and it began to glow a more brilliant red. The button flashed invitingly. He looked around and thought to himself, "This is it... after I do this, everything gets better." And he pressed the button. Two days later, his absence was noticed. The police, acting on a number of tips from the studio and personal "friends" broke down the door of his apartment. And they didn't know what to make of it what they found in there. His computer's hard drive had only the minimum of software on it, and a lot of large files that contained nothing. There were stacks of CDs, DVDs, and videocassettes which were completely blank. And all over everything, there were dozens of sticky-notes, just sitting there looking pretty in their multitude of colors, practically begging for someone to write on them. And Trent himself, well, they found him too, standing in the middle of his home empire of empty media. His right hand was missing, the stump neatly cauterized by some sort of searing heat. And he was just staring forward, stock-still, like a statue, looking vaguely elated as if he thought something wonderful was about to happen at any moment. He was alive, but a tabula rasa. Not that anyone within the scope of the event could ever piece it together (well, maybe *one* individual which nobody can find), but the box with the wand sticking out of it improved demoniacally enhanced media by *erasing* it, using the rationale that an empty storage device is worth more than a storage device that has demonic content on it. And Trent himself? It could be argued that the brain of a demon's vessel and its Ethereal Forces are a form of storage device. At least, they are from a certain *creative* standpoint. - --David http://skipjack.bluecrab.org/~dwood O-kaaaay, are people getting ideas yet? I hope so! ------------------------------ End of in_nomine-digest V1 #2509 ********************************