Sometimes it’s hard to hear the signals of a parallel world.
It’s been a
while since I received any news of my parallel self and his R.P.G ‘River ofShadows’. It looks like in the intervening time some kind of science fiction expansion
has come out.
In the
future mankind has colonised every available star system with slower-than-light
colony ships. Civilisations communicate with each other continually but slowly.
Everything is hyper-civilised, overdeveloped and boring. No-one is allowed to
do anything interesting or dangerous as they live in a perfect climax
civilisation.
If anyone
wants to be original or take a risk the only thing to do is try to explore one
of the cold worlds. These are exo-planets lost in the lifeless voids between
stars. Dark, ancient and cold. Many terrible things are buried there by
timeless dead races beyond the comprehension of man.
Because
governments are boring only radicals will explore the dead spheres. They scrape
together scrap-tech with private capital, jury-rig a disused colony ship and
head off in cryo sleep to the space between the stars. There is nothing out
there so they have to take all the energy they will need with them. They know
they will return in a thousand years-plus, relative to when they left,
everything will be different. They don’t care. If they come back, they will
change everything.
No-one makes
tech to survive the alien weather systems and awful mysteries of the cold
spheres, so they have to build or cludge it themselves.
The odd
thing about this game is that all of the explorers are assumed to be hot punk
girls. No explanation is given for this.
Suits the
girls are riding.
1. Gas giant turboliner luxury evac suit
re-fitted by pirate ice merchants after mass-disaster. Some bloodstains, wood-panelled
interior, nice drinks selection, internal anti-personnel weapons for use
against the poor, perfect credit history.
2. Ex-Mil ice-moon halo-jump assault-suit
prepped for low atmosphere high-angle entry and rapid heat exchange
displacement vanes for high-velocity melt-through of tectonic pack ice and
undersea deep-pressure assault. Disposable. Un-used.
3. Post-nuke search and rescue suit with
active Kirlian-Faraday defences against necrotising cryptowraiths. Ablative
crystallising radiation slough-skin bleeds industrial-diamond-substitute.
4. Antique trans-sanity Culverin
MEGGIDO-class apocalypse suit. Confirmed three reality breeches closed. No
fails. Discharged with full honours and multi-faith blessing. Sold as surplus
during government shutdown over complex tax issue.
5. Experimental Tomb-Analysis jacket.
Produced as marketing test-prototype by futurist clade for predicted market of
sunless explorers. Market failed to arise. Suit highly modified by billionaire
performance artist as commentary on the creative tension between visions of the
future and the now.
6. Half-torched coronal-rider cybernetic
array for maintenance of heliosphere vampire-satellites feeding endless
thaum-hunger of core world climax Civ. Vaporised scarwounds in packed-ceramic
overlays have little effect on survival in ultracold tomb-world environments.
7. Active nuke-engine exhaust repair bot
with scooped braincore and botch-job suit-within-a-suit life support pocket
scavenged from crashed hydroponics resort. Chassis made to cludge fixe the
Ex-Jets of near-lightspeed colony ships on journey between stars, without
de-stepping the torch.
8. ‘Naked Space’ field rainbow suit
riding ultra-compressed electromagnetic kill-waves of original weapon mounting.
Formerly trans-orbital ‘silencer’ for city-killing stealth-ship energy weapon.
Weapon core and mounting removed. House-sized EM silencer re-fitted with
auto-motile tractomorph claws. Drags counter-rotating tach-rifled gun barrel
like a crippled tail.
9. Stygio-abyssal armed wanderer.
Tracked for ultra-slow transit of subducting tecto-murder zone. Full
translation and appeasement AI for intended treaty-comms with ultra-violent
Squidlikes below the dark photosphere. Semi-flexible syntactical tentacles
added for reasons of Peace. Accidentally transported rare human bacteriophage
on chassis that wiped out Squidlike ecology. Effective genocide. Mothballed in
shame.
10. Scratch-built kropotkinite
ultra-savantic PunkSuit developed by briefly existent anti-authoritarian AI
crystallised by Noospheric flashmob. Suit designs spat out before violent
dispersal by thought police. Built vengefully of re-purposed corporate Lux-Tech
with brandnames inverted and replaced.
But you
can still totally tell they’re hot because…
1. Impact-jinxed medical-array
holo-field accidentally spits out glimpsed bodyslices like a fucked projector.
Images hang like a halo in the O2 exhaust around exit vents and pipe fractures.
2. Punk pilot made naked figurehead of
idealised self for sensor prow of own exo suit for easy identification and
political statement. Carved from adulterated chem-ice perma-frozen in
tomb-world chill. Apparent ‘sweat’ on own naked form shows melting, indicates
dangerous temp change if sensors non-functional. Figurehead melts at end of
each mission, re-carved again for next insertion.
3. Pilot is dancer from
full-bodylanguage Logo-culture. Speaks with limbs as well as voice. Convinced
no-one can understand her without seeing her. All flat outer surfaces masked
with cheap paper-thin LED screens showing endlessly gesticulating body of pilot
from every possible angle. Screens persistently glitch and madden.
4. Self-named exo-suit painted with
bomber-style glamour portraits of pilot-owner as branding exercise and
good-luck charm.
5. Pilot has own face projected on front
of mech-head so partners and following cyber-dogs can see facial expressions
during radio chat. Emotional valancy adds to cognitive bandwidth during key
communications. Dogs and colleagues can follow eye movement and trace line of
sight for non-verbal instructions and to spot attention patterns. Has taught
mech to shrug
6. Self-designed knight-style heraldry
on suit-front and projected holo-pennants updated with relief of pilots
achievements, notable actions, sexual conquests.
7. Pilot either Positivist Neo-Hindu or
aping mores of same. Own figure embossed onto suit-hull in endless tessellated
patterns. Takes part of numerous gods in divine story-cycle, violent, sexual,
numinous, hermetic. Mech effectively temple to self.
8. Pilot ripped out sensor dome and
replaced with zorb-ball of nano-active smart water. Defends against cold, heat,
all EM frequencies, exudes and compresses to defeat physical attacks. Pilot floats
naked or semi naked in centre of clear blue sphere like the pupil of a giant
cyclopic eye.
9. Sensor tentacle-tips implanted in the
heads of human-scale android sculpts of pilot dressed either in radical
fashions, or not at all. Android dummy sculpts either swoop through air carried
by extended pseudopodia in back of head, or walk across cryo-blasted
zero-plains on apparently naked feet, or in heels. Spy arms puppeting
move-style of creator.
10. Main comms vane, heat exchange or
primary gun turret massively re-modelled as sculpture of pilot. Beautiful
impassive archeotectic features pass pack and forth endlessly scanning dead
landscape. Lips open to vomit heat or high-velocity rounds.
Mind successfully boggled!
ReplyDeleteI am kind of pissed off about how good this is.
ReplyDeletePatrick is clearly a front used by a team of geniuses infecting our culture with insidious meme-seeds that will grow and blossom into something unfathomably terrible.
ReplyDeleteI approve of their plan.
This really is my favorite blog for un-gameable game content!
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of the recent run of Prophet. Only, y'know, batshittier. (meaning more batshit, not more shitty). I want to at least read this book, even if playing the game itself may be beyond me.
ReplyDelete