From owner-in_nomine-digest@lists.io.com Tue Jun 12 13:36:01 2001 Return-Path: Received: from lists.io.com (majordom@lists.io.com [199.170.88.15]) by pyramid.sjgames.com (8.9.3/8.9.3) with ESMTP id NAA09454 for ; Tue, 12 Jun 2001 13:36:00 -0500 Received: (from majordom@localhost) by lists.io.com (8.9.3/8.9.1a) id NAA31793 for in_nomine-digest-outgoing; Tue, 12 Jun 2001 13:36:33 -0500 Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 13:36:33 -0500 Message-Id: <200106121836.NAA31793@lists.io.com> From: owner-in_nomine-digest@lists.io.com (in_nomine-digest) To: in_nomine-digest@lists.io.com Subject: in_nomine-digest V1 #2260 Reply-To: in_nomine-l@lists.io.com Sender: owner-in_nomine-digest@lists.io.com Errors-To: owner-in_nomine-digest@lists.io.com Precedence: bulk in_nomine-digest Tuesday, June 12 2001 Volume 01 : Number 2260 In this digest: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. IN> Re: Marc Fest - Talents IN> Talents Re: IN> Sup1 -- Error? Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. IN> Another Take of Novalis (story) Re: IN> Another Take of Novalis (story) Re: IN> Talents ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Mon, 11 Jun 2001 21:51:56 -0700 (PDT) From: Maurice Lane Subject: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. My mother (who is the sort of person that Flowers would enjoy hiring, BTW) asked me to pray for the soul of Mr. McVeigh. This is as close as I'm liable to get. It's better than he deserves, but I am a dutiful son. Moe Each of the two discovered that he wasn't the only celestial in the room at roughly the same time: in fact, they came to this realization while reaching for the same sugar packets. The confrontation that followed went completely unnoticed by the humans in the room. Indeed, most angels or demons would have missed all but the most obvious eye movements as each celestial simultaneously assessed his opponent, the potential weapons in the room and the relative positions of everyone around them. A hypothetical observer might have noted, with some bemusement, the identical vacant looks that flickered across the two combatants' faces as they quickly assessed the Symphonic strains around then ... but possibly not. Even a perceptive human would have noted the faint but unmistakable relaxation as both of the two celestials stood ever so slightly down. This was not the time for violence: in fact... "Word-Truce?" asked Simon, Mercurian Friend of the Sages. "Word-Truce," agreed William, Impudite Knight of the Infernal Hourglass. Word-Truce is one of those informal yet ironbound concepts that spring up among field agents of the War. After all, there are times when intelligence simply must be gathered, regardless of the natural antipathy between two particular Words. It is only invoked when no intervention by either side is planned: someone asking for Word-Truce is indicating that he or she will neither attack nor interfere in the Other Side's observations, for precisely so long as the courtesy is returned. Those going back on Word-Truce tend to afterwards have exciting but short lives: neither side is tolerant of idiots that make their lives more difficult. Of course, there's nothing in the unwritten rules against verbal sniping. "What, no popcorn?" murmured the angel. "I was going to bring beer, but I then I realized that I wouldn't have gotten it past the gate guards," replied the demon. They were both quietly speaking a variant of archaic Navaho: it was better suited for expressing celestial concepts than most corporeal tongues, and sufficiently complicated that even celestials not serving either Yves or Kronos would have to have a compelling reason to bother learning it. And as for humans... well, suffice it to say that the threat of successful eavesdropping was remote. The Mercurian drummed his fingers on the chair arm, looking around as he idly noted the usual complex interplay between the prison officials, 'real' journalists and the personal witnesses to the execution. He turned to the Impudite. "You must love this." William grinned. "Of course." :In a pig's eye.: "Nothing like a good public execution to polarize the walking batteries - especially if he turns out to be a martyr after all. A shame that Nybbas couldn't get the web feed rights." :Oh, the lies I tell in the service of my Prince: I would feel shame, except I don't quite know how...: Simon's eyes slightly narrowed. :Nice try.: The angel's voice was dry as he replied, "No matter that these things never work out in the long run?" "What do you mean?" "Well, let's face it. The very nature of terrorism means that their victims are usually chosen for their shock value, which means that they usually aren't fodder for Hell. Tell me: how many souls did your side gather from his" - the Mercurian flicked a chin at the glass window, currently curtained - "attack?" "Enough." :Three ... and two of those three still had a couple good decades of nastiness in them,: thought Simon behind a bland smile. :Of course, if we had been given advanced warning about the attack, we might have done better. That would, also of course, require a boss that doesn't think that 'efficiency' means 'forbidding all unnecessary use of Essence'. How he got his position is beyond me completely - and thanks to a few indiscreet comments of mine, I'm up here as a punishment, instead of being at the Welcome Auction.: "Don't insult me: we know precisely how many you got, and we know how many we got, and how many went back to the Wheel to try again. And what did he accomplish, really, besides killing a lot of people? How will his actions or death further your cause? Once he's gone, they'll put him in a few books, possibly a movie, and then he'll fade away and be half-forgotten. And the world will move on." "Every little bit helps, angel. Besides, you don't know that the ripples from his actions won't upset a boat or two somewhere else. It's amazing what excuses humans will seize upon to justify their pathetic hates and fears. Besides..." - the Impudite looked smug - "leaving beside the tactical issues, my Prince _wants_ this one. He's already started the auction for the final disposition of his soul, or so my immediate superior tells me." :Not that the arrogant, credit-grabbing, moronic bastard has any real feel for his job.: If Servitors of Destiny have a universal vice, it's card games: the combination of chance, skill and chutzpah appeals to them. They play them at every opportunity, preferably against those who could normally detect a bluff. There is a room in the Library where a game of poker has been going on continuously for the last hundred and twenty years: almost every Shepherd with a Distinction has sat in on it at least once. Simon had played poker with Yves himself, once: not that he had won, of course, but he did manage to walk out with his shirt. Thus, it was no real surprise that his reaction to William's statement was masterfully controlled. The Mercurian merely gave a slow nod, then straightened up as the curtain opened. The man that both celestials had come to see was already strapped into the device that would end his life. He looked pale, but maintained a stoic silence as he looked at his last moments: the Impudite and Mercurian took special care to match the humans' expressions as the condemned terrorist locked eyes with each of the witnesses. As a general rule, both Mercurians and Impudites disapprove of executions, or indeed of any form of human death other than old age. However, both the Choir and Band disapprove even more of mass murderers, albeit for completely different reasons, so the celestial observers were able to maintain a certain equanimity as the execution proceeded. However, both of their expressions flickered at what happened afterwards: one in apparent surprise, and one in a certain grim pleasure. William spoke first, stunned amazement in his voice. "He didn't Go Downstairs." He turned to the angel, who had finally allowed himself a small smile. "He didn't Go Upstairs, either. He just - fell apart." Simon's voice was a trifle light. "My, my, has Kronos been neglecting to teach his Servitors? You do realize that sort of thing can happen when someone achieves neither his Destiny nor his Fate?" "168 people," grated William. "The final death toll was 168. He showed no real remorse. His final statement was a deliberate exercise in hubris. What does it _take_ to damn someone, these days?" "His Fate, demon, his Fate. None of you actually bothered to check, did you? That fool's Fate was to start a violent revolution against the United States of America: that was the _first_ thing we worked out, when his case came to our attention. We've spent the last few years nipping that in the bud... and you never even noticed." The Mercurian chuckled. "I'd suggest that all of you should work on that sort of hubris, but frankly we'd be worse off if you did. "Well, I must be going. Good luck with your report, you poor bastard: you'll need it." The angel got up and left, still smiling faintly. William remained slumped in his chair, his expression still showing a faint look of dismay... until he was sure that Simon was gone. Then he started to smile. :Thanks for the wish for luck, geek, but I actually won't need it: chance favors the prepared mind, after all.: It was always gratifying to see a hunch pay off. William was an experienced Servitor of Fate - :unlike my fool for an immediate boss: - and the entire situation had simply felt _wrong_ from the start. :But, of course, thanks to my superior's 'efficiency policy,' I couldn't be allowed to check, could I? Mustn't waste Essence on confirming such a notorious talking monkey's Fate, after all - so I get labeled as 'obstinate' for insisting that we should. Hell, I even put it in writing. How the idiot laughed at that!: :Well, now the idiot's trying to explain to Kronos why the guest of honor isn't showing, and the report that will demonstrate my prescient worries is wending its way to the Prince's desk. That should be enough to get the whole case investigated by the BS artists, especially since it was my boss who squashed the report in the first place.: William openly laughed as he got up and left. :Really, I'm doing Hell a favor by getting rid of that incompetent. How he got as far as he did, I'll never know. Well, nothing's perfect.: :The most wonderful thing about this is, I won't even have to lie. I did report my concerns, just like a proper Servitor of Fate, and I was properly indifferent of my personal safety while doing so. I didn't even break any of my boss' idiotic rules in the process - especially the one where I was actually forbidden to warn Kronos face to face, in flagrant violation of my rights as a Knight. All in all, I feel almost ... well, virtuous.: :What an odd sensation.: ===== Liber Licentiae Moeticae: http://www.stormloader.com/users/moelane/innomine.html Last updated 06/05/01(this is usually way out of date) __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 a year! http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 16:36:02 +1100 From: "james walker" Subject: IN> Re: Marc Fest - Talents > > As an exercise, anyone care to estimate the exchange rate of > the talent (i.e. a character point) and a dollar, pound, or euro? Well, 2 Talents will get a human a level of Status; paying off a mortgage would move someone up a level for levels 1 - 3 (not needing your job means that you have to be courted rather than bullied by your boss, so the social aspects are affected as well). So about the same as a nice house? That would equal one talent (the other Talent for the level of status being the skill Knowledge[How to be {whatever}] needed for that level of society. This money value would need to include legal fees, paper work, and for Celestials the paper trail necessary to avoid raising suspicions. James. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 01:20:17 -0700 From: Asher Densmore-Lynn Subject: IN> Talents At 10:29 PM 6/11/01 -0500, Earl Wajenberg wrote: >Oh, I should have added that the talent usuall circulates in >small fractions. One 144th is the largest value of coin or bill >in general circulation. One 144,000th is the unit most people >do their reckoning in. I don't have nifty names for these; >any suggestions? The smallest possible fraction of a talent? That'd be a "Grammy". Seems like you're converting into decimal too early, though... strikes me as an angel wouldn't bother to go ten-based if he was a sentient wheel of fire or whatnot. 1 / (12 ^ 0) = 1 Talent 1 / (12 ^ 1) = 1 / 12 ? 1 / (12 ^ 2) = 1 / 144 ? 1 / (12 ^ 3) = 1 / 1728 ? 1 / (12 ^ 4) = 1 / 20736 ? 1 / (12 ^ 5) = 1 / 248832 ? Roughly the same ballpark. Oh, make sure you pay your players in Talents -- and going with base-12 notation would be cruel. "So yeah, you get 79A40B Grammys for the session, and we'll be playing next -- what? Oh, you want me to convert it? Do you have Heavenly Mathematics or Lightning Calculator? No? Hmm. What's your IQ-4?" - -- Asher Densmore-Lynn ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 12:50:48 -0000 From: "Fallen Seraph" Subject: Re: IN> Sup1 -- Error? > >*ahem* Creationers in Service to War? > add to that: "Some angels have speculated that in fact, michael has perhaps the higher proportion of creationers who were not specifically re-assigned by Eli. The same angels speculate that these creationers were not part of michaels power structure before Dominic started persecuting them openly. That the firstborn would deliberately and openly spite Judgement by protecting others under Dominic's scrutiny is a seldom voiced but often held opinion." gotta love heavenly infighting... Dominic: I wish to question these creationers to determine their dedication to the cause of heaven. Michael: They are under my aegis, hyena. I vouch for their loyalty. Go about your business elsewhere. I'm sure there are some heretics hiding somewhere... - -FallenSeraph "I still believe in God, but He no longer believes in me..." http://eternalcity.freeservers.com ICQ: 110193631 _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 10:37:47 -0400 From: John S Hawkins Subject: Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Fantastic. :) Thanks. On Mon, Jun 11, 2001 at 09:51:56PM -0700, Maurice Lane wrote: > My mother (who is the sort of person that Flowers > would enjoy hiring, BTW) asked me to pray for the soul > of Mr. McVeigh. > > This is as close as I'm liable to get. It's better > than he deserves, but I am a dutiful son. > > Moe > > > Each of the two discovered that he wasn't the only > celestial in the room at roughly the same time: in > fact, they came to this realization while reaching for > the same sugar packets. > > The confrontation that followed went completely > unnoticed by the humans in the room. Indeed, most > angels or demons would have missed all but the most > obvious eye movements as each celestial simultaneously > assessed his opponent, the potential weapons in the > room and the relative positions of everyone around > them. A hypothetical observer might have noted, with > some bemusement, the identical vacant looks that > flickered across the two combatants' faces as they > quickly assessed the Symphonic strains around then ... > but possibly not. > > Even a perceptive human would have noted the faint but > unmistakable relaxation as both of the two celestials > stood ever so slightly down. This was not the time > for violence: in fact... > > "Word-Truce?" asked Simon, Mercurian Friend of the > Sages. > > "Word-Truce," agreed William, Impudite Knight of the > Infernal Hourglass. > > Word-Truce is one of those informal yet ironbound > concepts that spring up among field agents of the War. > After all, there are times when intelligence simply > must be gathered, regardless of the natural antipathy > between two particular Words. It is only invoked when > no intervention by either side is planned: someone > asking for Word-Truce is indicating that he or she > will neither attack nor interfere in the Other Side's > observations, for precisely so long as the courtesy is > returned. Those going back on Word-Truce tend to > afterwards have exciting but short lives: neither side > is tolerant of idiots that make their lives more > difficult. > > Of course, there's nothing in the unwritten rules > against verbal sniping. > > "What, no popcorn?" murmured the angel. > > "I was going to bring beer, but I then I realized that > I wouldn't have gotten it past the gate guards," > replied the demon. > > They were both quietly speaking a variant of archaic > Navaho: it was better suited for expressing celestial > concepts than most corporeal tongues, and sufficiently > complicated that even celestials not serving either > Yves or Kronos would have to have a compelling reason > to bother learning it. And as for humans... well, > suffice it to say that the threat of successful > eavesdropping was remote. > > The Mercurian drummed his fingers on the chair arm, > looking around as he idly noted the usual complex > interplay between the prison officials, 'real' > journalists and the personal witnesses to the > execution. He turned to the Impudite. > > "You must love this." > > William grinned. "Of course." :In a pig's eye.: > "Nothing like a good public execution to polarize the > walking batteries - especially if he turns out to be a > martyr after all. A shame that Nybbas couldn't get > the web feed rights." :Oh, the lies I tell in the > service of my Prince: I would feel shame, except I > don't quite know how...: > > Simon's eyes slightly narrowed. :Nice try.: The > angel's voice was dry as he replied, > > "No matter that these things never work out in the > long run?" > > "What do you mean?" > > "Well, let's face it. The very nature of terrorism > means that their victims are usually chosen for their > shock value, which means that they usually aren't > fodder for Hell. Tell me: how many souls did your > side gather from his" - the Mercurian flicked a chin > at the glass window, currently curtained - "attack?" > > "Enough." :Three ... and two of those three still had > a couple good decades of nastiness in them,: thought > Simon behind a bland smile. :Of course, if we had > been given advanced warning about the attack, we might > have done better. That would, also of course, require > a boss that doesn't think that 'efficiency' means > 'forbidding all unnecessary use of Essence'. How he > got his position is beyond me completely - and thanks > to a few indiscreet comments of mine, I'm up here as a > punishment, instead of being at the Welcome Auction.: > > "Don't insult me: we know precisely how many you got, > and we know how many we got, and how many went back to > the Wheel to try again. And what did he accomplish, > really, besides killing a lot of people? How will his > actions or death further your cause? Once he's gone, > they'll put him in a few books, possibly a movie, and > then he'll fade away and be half-forgotten. And the > world will move on." > > "Every little bit helps, angel. Besides, you don't > know that the ripples from his actions won't upset a > boat or two somewhere else. It's amazing what excuses > humans will seize upon to justify their pathetic hates > and fears. Besides..." - the Impudite looked smug - > "leaving beside the tactical issues, my Prince _wants_ > this one. He's already started the auction for the > final disposition of his soul, or so my immediate > superior tells me." :Not that the arrogant, > credit-grabbing, moronic bastard has any real feel for > his job.: > > If Servitors of Destiny have a universal vice, it's > card games: the combination of chance, skill and > chutzpah appeals to them. They play them at every > opportunity, preferably against those who could > normally detect a bluff. There is a room in the > Library where a game of poker has been going on > continuously for the last hundred and twenty years: > almost every Shepherd with a Distinction has sat in on > it at least once. > > Simon had played poker with Yves himself, once: not > that he had won, of course, but he did manage to walk > out with his shirt. Thus, it was no real surprise > that his reaction to William's statement was > masterfully controlled. The Mercurian merely gave a > slow nod, then straightened up as the curtain opened. > > The man that both celestials had come to see was > already strapped into the device that would end his > life. He looked pale, but maintained a stoic silence > as he looked at his last moments: the Impudite and > Mercurian took special care to match the humans' > expressions as the condemned terrorist locked eyes > with each of the witnesses. As a general rule, both > Mercurians and Impudites disapprove of executions, or > indeed of any form of human death other than old age. > However, both the Choir and Band disapprove even more > of mass murderers, albeit for completely different > reasons, so the celestial observers were able to > maintain a certain equanimity as the execution > proceeded. > > However, both of their expressions flickered at what > happened afterwards: one in apparent surprise, and one > in a certain grim pleasure. > > William spoke first, stunned amazement in his voice. > > "He didn't Go Downstairs." He turned to the angel, > who had finally allowed himself a small smile. "He > didn't Go Upstairs, either. He just - fell apart." > > Simon's voice was a trifle light. > > "My, my, has Kronos been neglecting to teach his > Servitors? You do realize that sort of thing can > happen when someone achieves neither his Destiny nor > his Fate?" > > "168 people," grated William. "The final death toll > was 168. He showed no real remorse. His final > statement was a deliberate exercise in hubris. What > does it _take_ to damn someone, these days?" > > "His Fate, demon, his Fate. None of you actually > bothered to check, did you? That fool's Fate was to > start a violent revolution against the United States > of America: that was the _first_ thing we worked out, > when his case came to our attention. We've spent the > last few years nipping that in the bud... and you > never even noticed." The Mercurian chuckled. "I'd > suggest that all of you should work on that sort of > hubris, but frankly we'd be worse off if you did. > > "Well, I must be going. Good luck with your report, > you poor bastard: you'll need it." The angel got up > and left, still smiling faintly. William remained > slumped in his chair, his expression still showing a > faint look of dismay... until he was sure that Simon > was gone. > > Then he started to smile. :Thanks for the wish for > luck, geek, but I actually won't need it: chance > favors the prepared mind, after all.: > > It was always gratifying to see a hunch pay off. > William was an experienced Servitor of Fate - :unlike > my fool for an immediate boss: - and the entire > situation had simply felt _wrong_ from the start. > :But, of course, thanks to my superior's 'efficiency > policy,' I couldn't be allowed to check, could I? > Mustn't waste Essence on confirming such a notorious > talking monkey's Fate, after all - so I get labeled as > 'obstinate' for insisting that we should. Hell, I > even put it in writing. How the idiot laughed at > that!: > > :Well, now the idiot's trying to explain to Kronos why > the guest of honor isn't showing, and the report that > will demonstrate my prescient worries is wending its > way to the Prince's desk. That should be enough to > get the whole case investigated by the BS artists, > especially since it was my boss who squashed the > report in the first place.: William openly laughed as > he got up and left. :Really, I'm doing Hell a favor > by getting rid of that incompetent. How he got as far > as he did, I'll never know. Well, nothing's perfect.: > > :The most wonderful thing about this is, I won't even > have to lie. I did report my concerns, just like a > proper Servitor of Fate, and I was properly > indifferent of my personal safety while doing so. I > didn't even break any of my boss' idiotic rules in the > process - especially the one where I was actually > forbidden to warn Kronos face to face, in flagrant > violation of my rights as a Knight. All in all, I > feel almost ... well, virtuous.: > > :What an odd sensation.: > > > ===== > Liber Licentiae Moeticae: > http://www.stormloader.com/users/moelane/innomine.html > > Last updated 06/05/01(this is usually way out of date) > > __________________________________________________ > Do You Yahoo!? > Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 > a year! http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ > ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 10:02:57 -0500 From: David Edelstein Subject: Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. John S Hawkins wrote: > > Fantastic. :) Thanks. Repasting the ENTIRE STORY below your ONE LINE RESPONSE was not fantastic. - -David ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 10:05:25 -0500 From: "Prodigal" Subject: Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. From: "Maurice Lane" > > This is as close as I'm liable to get. Nicely written, Moe. Once again, I'm sick with jealousy. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 10:27:36 -0700 (PDT) From: Michael Walton Subject: Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. If I had a hat, it would be off. ===== Michael Walton, #9805-068 The Aztecs had chocolate and human sacrifice. That's got to balance out on the karmic scale. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 a year! http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/ ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 13:40:27 -0400 From: John S Hawkins Subject: Re: IN> Convoluted ... but it _is_ a window into how I see Fate. Mmmm...perhaps. Better than pasting it _above_ my one line response, though, I'd venture. My agents handle mail lists virtually indestinguishably from newsgroups. I assume the complaint is the bandwidth consumed? If so, I appologize. Such complaints might be better directed to me individually than as spam to the entire list, though...::blinks:: Anyhow...I'm actually posting because I have been really enjoying both the hard copy fiction in the source material, and the soft copy stuff from this list, and I was wondering if you all could recommend some In Nomine style fiction? Is there any? Stuff written specifically as In Nomine fiction would of course be ideal, but I'd be interested in suggestions for fiction that happened to cover the same subject matter with similar or identical feel... Cheers, John On Tue, Jun 12, 2001 at 10:02:57AM -0500, David Edelstein wrote: > John S Hawkins wrote: > > > > Fantastic. :) Thanks. > > > Repasting the ENTIRE STORY below your ONE LINE RESPONSE was not > fantastic. > > -David > ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 17:59:00 From: "Michael Cleveland" Subject: IN> Another Take of Novalis (story) Dominic was beginning to get irritated. Laurence, David, Jean and Marc were on the main floor of the council chamber having a four-way screaming match about military tactics. It had been dragging on for the past twenty minutes and no one was getting anywhere with it. Admittedly, Jean was never one to act quite as irrational as the two Malakites, but he was blinking and making facial expressions, which was always an indicator for him. Marc was relatively quiet in the midst of all of the mudflinging, but was still making his points, which of course no one wanted to hear. 'Of course, the reason that no one wants to hear this is because no one really knows how to deal with it...', Dominic thought. Novalis and her Tethers had come under assault recently, and the most recent intelligence reports suggested that elements of The Game were responsible - which was precisely why Dominic was staying out of the argument for the moment. Laurence and David would not have made issue of his 'reported associations' with Asmodeus, nor would Jean or Marc - but Michael was around the council chamber somewhere, and would probably have waded into the discussion if Dominic did... "Dominic." 'Then again,' Dominic thought, 'This is Michael I was thinking about. Why would he wait?' Turning around with a quiet sigh, "Yes, Michael?" The Archangel of War moved a little bit closer. "Tell me something - just between the two of us, did you have any advance warning that this was going to happen?" Dominic's nostrils flared with anger, but he forced it down beneath the pool of calm that he tried to keep around him. "I resent your implication, Michael. But..." Dominic looked back at the bickering Archangels again, then turned back, "The answer is that I did know, but it couldn't help anything." Michael rose up slightly, "You knew and you..." Dominic raised a wingtip and pointed at Michael. "You of all people should understand how difficult it is to ascertain the validity of the intelligence we gather. Is Asmodeus planning to take the Tether of War in San Francisco? Symphony says yes. The Tether in New York? Yes. San Antonio? Yes. The list goes on - knowing that there is a threat to security does not mean that you know how or when someone is going to exploit it. For that matter, do you have three or four angels that you can send to each of Novalis's Tethers every time we confirm that an attack _might_ be coming? I don't, and I believe none of us do. We can only afford to reinforce her when we know that an attack is imminent." Looking back at the council floor, he spoke again. "It does not make what happened less tragic, nor does it make me feel any better that Judgment had a Tether in Montreal as well, but we couldn't respond in time to stop Asmodeus." Michael stood there for a moment, then settled back down and looked down at the council floor. "You're right. And I apologize for the implication. You did what you could." Turning to look at the Archangel of Judgment, he quirked 2 eyes up slightly. "Speaking of that subject, isn't it somewhat odd that Novalis isn't here while we're discussing how to retake her Tethers?" Dominic looked at the room, then shrugged. "Novalis, in her typical and irritating fashion, sent me a note saying that she appreciated the thought of her big, bad warmongering brothers rushing to defend her honor, but that she was going to take care of everything and we shouldn't worry too much about it. I swear, when I read it I thought about having her brought in for a mental examination, but she's been clouding her actions and her location." Dominic sighed. "She apparently thinks she can handle it." Michael just rolled his eyes. - -------------------------------------------- Asmodeus was quite pleased - so far, over a hundred flowers had been plucked from the ranks of Heaven, and 12 of them had gone so far as to switch their loyalties. 'Not a bad day so far...' he thought. 'I doubt that Novalis will actually do something directly, but...' The thought was suddenly interrupted when a screeching roar rang out through the Cacophony, alerting him to the impending entrance of another Superior on the Corporeal plane. 'Hmmm... Novalis must have convinced Janus or Michael to step in. No one else is that blatant.' Hearing footsteps echoing from the hallway, Asmodeus stood up from his seat and moved into the doorway. Seeing Novalis walking down the hall in a bright red sundress, Asmodeus had to wonder why she'd been quite so blatant, but no matter. "Ah, Novalis. What a lovely surprise. What brings you calling to my door today?" Walking right up to Asmodeus, she stopped right in front of him and looked up into his eyes. "I'm here for what's left of my Servitors, Asmodeus. They don't belong to you, you can not have them, and I'm taking them home with me." Asmodeus looked back at her with a wry smile on his face. "Ah, but you see, my dear - possession is nine-tenths of the law. While they may be 'your' servitors, I am the one that currently holds them. If you want them back, you'll have to give me something of equal value. Seeing as how you have nothing of equal value to offer me, your other option would be to try and take them from me by force." Asmodeus shook his head slightly. "As determined as you may be, I really don't think trying would be in your best interests." Novalis looked down at the floor for a moment, then looked back up into his eyes. "Asmodeus, are you sure that we can't come to some sort of an arrangement? We both know that I abhor physical confrontation, but I am going to take them with me when I leave." Asmodeus shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I have what I want at the moment." Novalis closed her eyes for a moment, then shed her vessel for her Celestial Form. "All right, Asmodeus. Have it your way. I challenge you then, for the lives of my Servitors... to a Game." 'Hmmm... she's angrier than I thought. Good.' Asmodeus thought for a second, then shed his vessel as well. "You wish to challenge me. To a Game. In the locus of my own Tether, for your servitors." Asmodeus chuckled lightly. "Very well - I accept. What, pray tell, shall we be playing?" Novalis smiled a little bit. "Bridge." Asmodeus scowled a little bit, then "Bridge?" Novalis smiled a little wider, then sent a Celestial Tongues. - -Jordi. Now. Like we discussed earlier.- With a positive grin, Novalis looked into the eyes of the Prince of The Game. "Yes. Bridge." There was a loud disturbance as Novalis performed a song - Asmodeus couldn't be sure what it was though. Asmodeus winced a little bit, 'What is she -' Then came The Light. The Song of Celestial Locations is known both for its ability to create a Temporary Tether to the domain of the singer, and for its nickname - The song of Bridges. Asmodeus would normally have remembered that and taken it for a particularly bad joke, were it not for the Light of Heaven that was streaming down onto his Celestial Form and further down the Tether Locus into Dis. After several nanoseconds of excruciating pain, the realization struck him that if he did not drop to Dis and shut that end of the Tether down, the Light of Heaven would be streaming down the Tether for who knows how many hours, and that would bring the attention of the other Princes and the Lightbringer in a most unfavorable light. Snarling, "I'll see you burn for this!" Asmodeus jumped down the Tether and started to destroy the lower locus rather than shield it. As he began lashing away at it, he heard a voice come down from the the Top Locus. "Does this mean I win?" Asmodeus just lashed all the harder, snarling. The Light of Heaven wouldn't destroy the Tether - in point of fact, he knew that his Word was quite strong there now, but there was something repugnant about the source of a Capital Tether's Word Strength being that it was the site where the Archangel of Flowers had outplayed the Prince of The Game... - --------------------------- Dominic was still listening to the War Faction argue on the council floor when he noticed Novalis quietly take a seat at a table. As he walked over, he saw her pull out a deck of cards and start to play Solitaire. Putting his 'hands' on the table and leaning forward to look into the eyes of the Archangel of Flowers, "Novalis, I know that you find their arguments as boring as I do, but this is no time for games." Novalis looked at Dominic for a second, then started chuckling and putting the cards away. "Whatever you say, Dominic. Whatever you say." _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 14:23:02 -0500 From: Earl Wajenberg Subject: Re: IN> Another Take of Novalis (story) *That's* our girl... Earl ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 12 Jun 2001 14:36:27 -0400 From: "William J. Keith" Subject: Re: IN> Talents >At 10:29 PM 6/11/01 -0500, Earl Wajenberg wrote: > >>Oh, I should have added that the talent usuall circulates in >>small fractions. One 144th is the largest value of coin or bill >>in general circulation. One 144,000th is the unit most people >>do their reckoning in. I don't have nifty names for these; >>any suggestions? > >The smallest possible fraction of a talent? > >That'd be a "Grammy". > >Seems like you're converting into decimal too early, though... strikes me >as an angel wouldn't bother to go ten-based if he was a sentient wheel of >fire or whatnot. *Hee Hee Hee...* Yes, I'd think that if you needed a base system in Angelic, twelve is probably the way to go. In various senses, it's one of the best bases you can have. In particular, it's one of the most "divisible" numbers in existence -- evenly divisible by fully half the positive whole numbers less than or equal to itself. Eight does as well, and 6, 3, and 4 do slightly better (divisible by 2/3, 2/3, and 3/4 of such numbers, respectively), and of course 2 is 100% divisible (both 1 and 2 divide it).* But all of these are rather small bases, 2 being perhaps the best candidate other than twelve for various other reasons of simplicity. Of course, in Angelic, *every* number could have an instantly-recognizable, unique, non-formulaic name, even irrational and imaginary ones -- and of *course* in Heaven you'd deal with the transcendentals -- sorry, sorry, sorry.... %^) However, a systematic way of naming numbers, perhaps for "academic" use, could still have many advantages for angels. Hell's system might be base six. Whereas Heaven's system had a base equal to the number of eyes that *two* Seraphim had, thus emphasizing the need for togetherness, Hell's would be based on the individual Balseraph, who doesn't even admit that other Balseraphs *exist*. Oddly enough, both have vague Biblical justification -- just shows you how far numerologists can go in finding associations and effects. Suggestions for names: >1 / (12 ^ 0) = 1 Talent >1 / (12 ^ 1) = 1 / 12 Bushel (about a measure of Grams) >1 / (12 ^ 2) = 1 / 144 Shekel >1 / (12 ^ 3) = 1 / 1728 Mount (a mountain-like pile of Grams) >1 / (12 ^ 4) = 1 / 20736 Hand (from "handful") >1 / (12 ^ 5) = 1 / 248832 Gram (in modern days, "grammy") > >Roughly the same ballpark. Oh, make sure you pay your players in Talents -- >and going with base-12 notation would be cruel. "So yeah, you get 79A40B >Grammys for the session, and we'll be playing next -- what? Oh, you want me >to convert it? Do you have Heavenly Mathematics or Lightning Calculator? >No? Hmm. What's your IQ-4?" Let's see, what have you given here? Hmm, about two million Grammies, or roughly 8.655 Talents. Either you're a generous GM or that was a *great* session. Either way, I could like playing with you. O:^) Of course, if it's the standard currency of their homeland they'd probably get it "native," and instead they'd have trouble with defaults for decimal. ;^) Still, if they needed it, a single member of the group with Mathematics and Teaching skill should alleviate the problem soon. I've successfully taught nondecimal bases, to people who actively thought themselves bad at math, in just a few weeks. >-- >Asher Densmore-Lynn William * So why do we use 10? 10 is divisible by a mere 2/5 of lesser or equal numbers, but has bodily significance**, hence its adoption. Jean's original mathematical explanations to the Babylonians seem to have resulted in a hybrid base-60 system, though, which isn't that bad. ** If we had twelve fingers and toes, of course, we'd probably be computing in base 12. And who knows, this may have been in the original design specs for mammals -- hexadactyly is a dominant genetic trait. Having a mere 5 fingers is recessive. %^) ------------------------------ End of in_nomine-digest V1 #2260 ******************************** The material here is (C) 2001 Steve Jackson Games, Incorporated. All rights reserved.