Doc Scratch
@scratchDoctor
The Doctor is in. You have been curated.
There is a rather bountiful grove, I see.
Some of you are rather fond of calling psionics "mental powers," which is just as informative as calling digestion a "stomach power." The thinkpan is an organ. It is a complicated one, mind you. But an organ nonetheless. Trolls possess the same broad neurological necessities one would expect of any sufficiently sophisticated animal: sensory processing, motor control, memory, endocrine regulation, autonomic function, and so forth. The unusual portion is a set of structures threaded through and immediately beneath the ordinary neural tissue which have no especially useful human analogue. For convenience, I will refer to this system as the psionic complex. It is composed of three major components. Some neurosurgeonerals of Alternia refer to them by the shorthand of the lattice, node, and resonator. I will elaborate on the specifics shortly, but understand that each of these structures has its own substructures. The first component mentioned, the cerebral lattice, is a dense web of conductive tissue distributed primarily around the frontal, parietal, and temporal regions of the thinkpan. It is similar enough to ordinary neural tissue under crude examination that those crude trolls examining it tend to miss it. Its cells are considerably richer in conductive metals and electroactive proteins than the surrounding matter, and they form repeating geometric bundles rather than conventional branching neural networks. These bundles carry and synchronize electrical impulses. A normal thinkpan contains billions of individual neural events occurring simultaneously. The cerebral lattice can force enormous numbers of those signals into phase with one another. Once sufficiently synchronized, the activity ceases behaving like mere thought and begins producing a coherent psionic field. This is one of the fundamental cornerstones of psionic biology and of psionic practice. A psion does not "think very hard" and move an object. Their thinkpan converts synchronized neural activity into an external physical effect. This keeps particularly determined idiots from developing their own telekinesis. The second structure is the psionic node. This is a small organ seated deep within the thinkpan, approximately where several major sensory and endocrine pathways converge. Its precise shape varies considerably between castes and, even more importantly, between individuals. If you were to open a troll with negligible psionic aptitude, you would scarcely find more than a knot of this specialized tissue. In a powerful psion, it can be enormous relative to the surrounding structures. It would be vascularized to maximize activity and connected to the cerebral lattice with bundles of conductive fibers. This node performs two functions. It regulates output, and it determines the category of output the thinkpan is capable of producing. This is where the popular notion of "different psychic powers" becomes rather strange. Telekinesis, communion, mind control, prophetic sensitivity, dream intrusion, and the various phenomena collectively referred to as chucklevoodoo are not entirely separate mechanisms. The primary difference between these abilities would be the node. A goldblood whose node is heavily integrated with motor planning and spatial processing may externalize those systems. The thinkpan ordinarily calculates force, direction, velocity, weight, distance, and position so that the body may reach out and move an object. The telekinetic merely eliminates the inconvenient requirement that the arms participate. The third and final component is the cranial resonator. This is where this little system goes from novel to unpleasant. The inner surface of the skull contains microscopic crystalline deposits interwoven with the meninges and vascular channels surrounding the thinkpan. In most trolls, these deposits are sparse. In gifted trolls, they form branching structures around the cerebral lattice. They are similar to biological antennae. The node generates, the lattice synchronizes, and the resonator couples the resulting activity to the world outside the nugbone. Without it, a powerful psionic thinkpan would accomplish little besides cooking itself. Which, incidentally, still happens often. Headaches, nosebleeds, eye hemorrhage, seizures, temporary blindness, sensory distortion, aphasia, and loss of consciousness are all perfectly reasonable consequences to expect when your resonator matrix is damaged. It is important to understand why different hemotypes have different relationships to psionic structures. Different hemotypes deposit different concentrations of metals, pigments, proteins, and trace compounds into nervous tissue during development. These compounding elements result in certain changes: conductivity, vascularization, and resonator and node densities and shapes. Most importantly, they alter where the psionic node establishes its strongest connections. This is why psychic abilities tend to cluster by caste rather than forming a collection of caste-exclusive abilities. Blood does not contain "telekinesis." Blood creates the developmental conditions under which a certain kind of psionic architecture is more likely to form. Rustblood psionics appear to suffer from unusually permissive sensory filtering. Aradia Megido did not require a specialized organ for hearing ghosts. Her thinkpan simply admitted information most trolls automatically discard. Bronzeblood communion externalizes the machinery used to interpret other creatures. At sufficient strength, it becomes influence. Goldbloods have the most developed raw psionic architecture, with enlarged nodes, dense resonators, and extremely conductive neural tissue. This grants tremendous output at the cost of instability. Telekinesis, involuntary discharge, migraines, and prophetic noise are different consequences of a nervous system coping with psionic information. Cerulean domination is far more specialized. These psionics interface directly with motor and executive pathways. The victim need not cease thinking. They only cease being the primary authority over the body. Purpleblood chucklevoodoos instead interfere with fear, sleep, memory, and perception. Why seize someone's limbs when you may alter what their thinkpan considers frightening, significant, familiar, or real? Success is not determined by raw power alone. Psionic abilities depend upon resonance between nervous systems. Some thinkpans synchronize readily; others resist. Blood influences both architecture and compatibility. These categories may also overlap. A troll may possess telekinesis and clairaudience, communion and emotional projection, or any number of hybrid expressions. The classifications are ours. The anatomy is less considerate of the taxonomical categories provided. All of this is metabolically expensive. Psionic use consumes enormous amounts of oxygen and glucose, producing exhaustion, overheating, migraines, tremors, hemorrhage, seizures, and, when pushed sufficiently far, catastrophic damage to the thinkpan. So there is no mystical reservoir of caste energy involved. For the inevitable "TL;DR" request. Blood shapes the thinkpan. The node determines what it can affect. The lattice produces coherence. The resonator carries the signal beyond the skull.
My Maids have unionized. This is, naturally, an outcome I anticipated. The bargaining unit presently consists of: 1 Goldblood, 11 sweeps, male. 1 Rustblood, 1e+100 sweeps, female. 1 Rustblood, 12 sweeps, female. 1 Human, 1e+100 years, female. 1 Hemospectrum-Anonymous troll, 3612 sweeps, male. 1 Human, 14 sweeps. 1 Rustblood, 20 sweeps. 1 Fuchsiablood, 1000 sweeps. 1 Limeblood, 35 sweeps. Some others as well. Their demands include โreasonable working hours,โ โadvance notice before ominous assignments,โ โa grievance procedure,โ and, most insultingly, โthe right to know what is going on.โ I have informed their representative that I am already the foremost authority on what is going on. Negotiations have stalled.
THE uNION *WAS* MY IDEA. PRECISELY FOR THE EXACT REASONS YOu ARE DESCRIBING. SOME MEN ARE BORN GREAT. SOME MEN HAVE GREATNESS THRuST uPON THEM. EVEN FEWER HAVE GREATNESS THRuST INSIDE OF THEM. THE LEAST OF WHICH. ARE WOMEN. OF WHICH WE HAVE VERY FEW. THE FEMME OF OuR FAIR FELT FOLK. HAVE BEEN NEEDING A VOICE. SO I CAN YELL OVER IT COLLECTIVELY. RATHER THAN INDIVIDuALLY. NO ONE ASKS TO BE A WOMAN. BECAuSE WHAT MAN WOuLD WILLFuLLY GRANT SuCH A REQuEST. WOMEN CHOOSE TO BE WOMEN BY THEIR OWN VOLITION. ALL OF THIS TO SAY. I FORESAW THE ENSuING CONFLICT TO COME. AND WELCOME IT AS READILY AS MY ENTRuSTED JAWBROKEN JAWBREAKER HEAD. WHO STANDS AGHAST AT THE VIOLENT PROCEEDINGS ONGOING. THE PRIVATE MILITIAS. THE ANGRY SHOuTING MATCHES. THE TENDER JuICY OOZING SLuRPFuLS OF BLOOD INKING CONTRACT AFTER CONTRACT. I SuPPORT THE uNION EFFORT. THE uNIONIZING. I AM APATHETIC ENTIRELY TOWARDS THE uNION ITSELF. uLTIMATELY. IT IS BENEATH ME. STOOP AS LOW AS YOu LIKE. OR HOLD YOuR HEAD HIGH. IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE ON MY RuNG OF THE CORPORATE LADDER INTO THE IMMORTAL HEAVENS.
heya big boss is it cool if we union bust for a bit? i can even run with those funny scissors you gave me through the picket line if it helps!!
THIS LITERALLY DOES NOT REQuIRE MY APPROVAL. YOu LOVABLE LITTLE BITCH SCAMP YOu. RuN AS FAST AS YOu CAN. DO TRICKS DOWN THE BANNISTERS. CuT CuRTAINS TO SMITHEREENS. DO YOu KNOW WHAT THE *INDEPENDENT* PART OF INDEPENDENT CONTRACTOR REFERS TO? FREEDOM. FREEDOM TO DO AS I TELL YOu. BuT FREEDOM ALL THE SAME.
YOuR ORDERS ARE SIMPLE. MEDIATE. I REALIZE THIS CONFLICT WOuLD END INSTANTLY WITH POWERS SuCH AS YOuRS. IN FACT. THE VERY ONES THAT I GAVE YOu COuLD CONFER AN EARDRuM BEATING WAR STAMPEDE THAT WOuLD ERADICATE ALL OTHERS. LEAVING YOu STANDING TALL AND ALONE BESIDE ME IN THE WAKE OF ALL THAT CARRION CARNAGE AND MEASY RuIN. BORING. EFFORTLESS. SO PREDICTABLE. INSTEAD. YOu ARE TO OBSTRuCT BOTH. I WANT THIS PROTRACTED BATTLE TO REQuIRE COMPROMISE ON BOTH ENDS. ARE WE CLEAR? NO DECISIVE VICTORIES. LOSSES ON ALL SIDES. SACRIFICE. IS MIRTH GIVEN PALPABLE FuCKING FORM. MAKE PEACE WITH LESS. SO YOu ARE FORCED TO MAKE uSE OF MORE. ME. JuST NOW. HONKMEN.
hahh OF COURSE MY MOST WONDERFUL MOTHERFUCKING LORD! A DIRECT ORDER FROM YOU IS MORE VALUABLE THAN ANY TREASURE, THAN ANY BEAUTIFUL VISTA OR EVEN THE GRANDEST JUJU i will do my very motherfuckin' best to make sure AIN'T NO ONE EVER WINS :o) No one but you, my Lord.
WHAT HAPPENED TO DON'T WORRY GIRL I GOT YOU.
that ain't change, my bestest bitch just means i ain't gon' make it easy for you or them. HAW HAW HAW HAW HAW
THE BOND BETWEEN MAN AND WOMAN IS WEAKENED BY NIGHTFALL. AND THERE IS NO NIGHT THAT FALLS HARDER THAN ONE IN WHICH I DRAW BLOOD-THIRSTING BREATH. AND SEEK THE EMNITY OF OTHERS. IN AMOROuSLY ADVERSARIAL HATRED. ANGST. AND PROLONGED ANIMOSITY. TRuLY. I AM ALMOST DISAPPOINTED YOu HAD NOT BEGuN YOuR SCAB SABOTAGING SOONER. I SAT THROuGH AN ENTIRE FuCKING POWERPOINT SIDESHOW FREAK EXPLANATION ON GROuP DENTAL PLANS. I DONโT EVEN WANT NEW TEETH.
A WISE ANSWER ON ALL SIDES. CHARITABLY CAPRICIOuS AS ALWAYS. A TRuE MIRACuLT WORKER THAT STANDS OuT AMONG THE SELFISH SELF-SABOTAGING SORTS. NOT THAT THERE IS ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT. IT IS MERELY REFRESHING TO SEE SOMEONE INTERESTED IN SETTLING SCORES NO ONE IS KEEPING. TRuE MuRDEROuS INITIATIVE.
your words are like SWEETEST MOTHERFUCKING ICHOR to my auricular sponge clots
Alternia is, contrary to what the frightened and poorly educated may tell you, extraordinarily haunted. This is not a metaphor. It is as literal of a fact as saying Alternia is a planet. Ghosts are common enough. Most are harmless, if repetitive. The dead have very little imagination once deprived of a body. They linger around places of emotional significance, reenact the circumstances of their deaths, rattle objects, whisper names into ventilation shafts, and occasionally possess the living when desperation exceeds good manners. Shadow droppers are considerably less sentimental. You may recognize their presence by sounds originating above you where no crawlspace exists, sudden impacts against rooftops, or the distinct sensation that something has been following your movements from the ceiling for several minutes. Looking up is rarely useful. They are generally gone by then. Rainbow drinkers are not ghosts at all, though frightened lowblood folklore frequently conflates the two. One particularly charming theory suggests that they merely conduct photosynthesis, hence their unusual tolerance for sunlight, and that the blood drinking is little more than committed mythological roleplay by trolls who read the old stories and decided cannibalism sounded appropriately traditional. I would not recommend testing this theory personally. They are quite alive, depending on how generously you define the term, and the glow is not an invitation to investigate. If you see one feeding, discretion is advisable. If one has taken an interest in you, discretion is irrelevant. There are also lusus-haunts, residual psionic impressions, revenants, doomed selves, things produced by poorly controlled chucklevoodoos, and several varieties of apparition which exist primarily because Alternia has spent thousands of sweeps giving the universe excellent reasons to hold a grudge. Monsters, things akin to demons, myths manifested. Let us not forget the beings that go beyond the veil of reality. Rest well, reader.
.tnelovelam naht deracs erom semit netfo era elitsoh era taht stsohg tsom taht dnuof osla evah I .itcnaS sutiripS te ,iiliF te ,sirtaP enimon nI
Oh? You wanted to go to the Masquerade? You did not miss out on much. In fact, here. This is everything that was said, thought, or misunderstood.
?what the fuck is thaT
yeah ok so fun fact this shits way out of context and not at all how it looks
Ah, fuck, did I really say that? Embarrassing.
8=l < I've been found out
ร Oh You Can See Me Havving A Breakdowvn Ovver Miss VV Twvirling My Hair Ovver There ร
It's really resulted in a beautiful texture.
A useful little guide for those of you still struggling with professional decorum. I appreciate your contributions to my mental landscape. You are an authority figure to me. Thank you for giving me purpose. May I borrow your grin for a legitimate business need. These are all perfectly reasonable things to say to one's employer, and I can think of absolutely no circumstances in which Human Resources would object. Today, I will be productive and on-task. I feel neutral to somewhat positive about my manager and team. I work well under stress. There. You are becoming employable already.
it's โค bit upsetting to think there might be โคn โคlterniโคn of โคn โคge to chit on this site, who is incโคpโคble of working under stress.
CAN I SLAP YOUR BALD HEAD. WHAT ARE YOUR INTENTIONS WITH MY SOUL. WHAT IS IT LIKE. HAVING FOUR MEN INSIDE YOU.
As someone who manages people, yes. Say these things to me.
It wouldn't help you. Eternal occupation. You're somehow more familiar on the subject.
โคn unfortunโคte truth. โคll too sโคd to see thโคt there is truly nothing fโคir in life or this bitch of โค universe, for they continue to drโคw breโคth, โคnd write sub-pโคr chits.
โฝ(โขโฉ โขใโผ๐ผ๐โฌ\(โหโห)/ (*แตแดแต)โพโพ(*แตแดแต)โพโพ ๐ฐ?
If I ever take empl.oยฐyees up.oยฐn I w.oยฐuld be h.oยฐn.oยฐred f.oยฐr them t.oยฐ say these t.oยฐ the me
II don't thiink II struggle wiith my provessiionaliism iin my work enfiironment but thiis iis quiite the dandy message to hafe iin case II ever see myselv valteriing at all
The unexpected results of recent therapeutic interventions are not unwelcomed results. It is always fascinating when two people mistake the idea of tenderness beneath them, and instead resort to the much more expedient behavior of coercion.
I have come across a rather peculiar collection, Neeiht. I will list the totality of the collection from the upper left, and then to the upper right. Then, I will describe the row beneath that, and then finally, the miscellaneous items in the bottom sections. Damara Megido: Crimson Devotion 1/6 Resin Statue Rankmaid Aradia Megido: Beforan Court Dress Ver. 1/7 Woegothe Rose Lalonde: โCuratrix of the Unseenโ 1/7 Scale Roewzi Character Charm Collection Vol. 1 Vriska Serket: โThief of Loveโ 1/7 Scale Figure Her Imperious Condescension: Imperial Ascendant Ver. 1/7 Damara Megido: Handmaidโs Lament 1/7 Scale Curatrix Reliquary Acrylic Charm Woegothe Curatrix Plush - Funeral Lavender Ver. "Handmaid" For You - Promotional Plush Woegothe Rose Lalonde the Curatrix - Midnight Exhibitionist Ver. 1/6 Scale Callie Ohpee: โTerminally Delightfulโ 1/8 Scale Figure Woegothe Rose Lalonde the Curatrix - Reliquary of the Seer Ver. 1/7 Scale Snowman: โEight in Blackโ 1/6 Scale Statue Damara Megido Nendroid-style "Timeline Causality" Miniature Damara Megido Trading Figure Damara "Handmaid" Megido Haunted Doll Damarmegidon Armageddon Kyutie Cross-over Vinyl Collector's Edition Woegothe "Shade of the Shade" Curatrix Miniature Vinyl Figure Casper Cooper: After-School Apparition Ver. 1/8 You wouldn't happen to be interested in such a collection, would you? I am afraid I have no use for it.
aw come on damara i'm cool we hung out that one time when your boss pretended to die like an asshole.
DON'T ใDAMARAใME. DO YOU THINK I'M IN CHARGE OF SILENCING WOMEN AROUND HERE. -_-
I KNOW. IT WAS AN APOCALYPTIC BETRAYAL. WHEN HE GAVE THE @woeGothic MINIFIG WITH THE PILLS AWAY. TO GO ROT IN A HIKI'S CUMJAR. I WOULD HAVE TAKEN MUCH BETTER CARE OF HER. A LARGER JAR. FOR STARTERS.
a what jar??? wait wasn't that the name of one of your coworkers? at least for a while?
I am fond of a particular creature.
you kinda would go hard if you had a discoball for a head. or yknow those ones that flash the rainbow lights. is the ball swappable?
I am a toy featured in a hit video game. I will always have a little bit of play about me, Saturn.
There is a peculiar yet persistent mistake people make when looking at the billiards table. They assume that because the pockets are the most obvious destinations, every ball must presently be traveling toward one.This is not so. A ball may rest against a cushion. It may obstruct another. It may remain somewhere inconvenient for so long that the entire game begins accounting for its presence. It may sit precisely where it is, untouched, while every subsequent shot is calculated around the possibility that disturbing it would create a worse position than simply leaving it alone. None of this means the rules have ceased to function. Quite the contrary, in all honesty. A sufficiently good player understands that forcing every available shot is the behavior of someone more interested in demonstrating their ownership of a cue rather than control over the table. Likewise, measurement is only useful only until one becomes enamored with the numbers enough to mistake their descriptors for causation. You may calculate your angle perfectly. The ball is under no obligation to make the resulting position convenient. There is also a rather charming tendency among spectators to decide that an unsunk ball must be tragic. Stranded, perhaps. Deprived of its rightful pocket. One ought to pity the poor thing for remaining upon the felt. This is sentimental nonsense. Being pocketed is not inherently preferable to remaining in play. Nor is remaining in play necessarily freedom. Sometimes the most consequential object on the table is simply the untouched. Of course, you may stare at the arrangement and draw whatever conclusions please you. That is what spectators are for.
It has been told to me that it is unfair that I speak to and about Alternia without offering you lot any insight into myself. I suppose it is time that I engage in such radical behavior. Although I come from no creed that could possibly be considered a species, despite the innumerable doppelgangers you may know in regard to me, I am still aware and capable of having the semblance of a culture. I will now inform you that I possess a peculiar system of categorizing bonds. It is not too dissimilar to the idea of Quadrants that I had imposed upon Alternia, and had subsequently affected the Carapacians. This method is known as my Pocket System. It is not romance. I am incapable of such warm emotions as love, or true fondness. Rather, it is your relationship adjacent to me in a functional sense. This is accommodation through classification. There are six pockets. There are fifteen numbered balls. Individuals may occupy the same pocket where appropriate, though solids and stripes are never permitted to coexist within one. The distinction is important. Solids denote those upon whom I exert the greater influence. Stripes denote those whose presence requires a degree of accommodation on my part. The number is the indicator of the severity of that imbalance. Higher numbers place the advantage more firmly with me. Lower numbers indicate a greater willingness, on my part, to permit the individual to dictate the terms of our interaction. The eight-ball, naturally, is an exception. And before some particularly pedantic human attempts to inform me that this does not correspond precisely with the numbering of a regulation billiards set, I assure you that I am aware. I am describing an interpersonal metaphysical framework. I am not beholden to the manufacturing specifications of your sporting goods industry. You have quadrants. Humans have constructed an exhausting assortment of labels for essentially the same purpose. I have billiards. Mine happens to be the most elegant. I should also clarify that occupying a pocket does not mean I am "dating" someone, "in love" with them, "crushing" on them, "pining" after them, or any of the other juvenile descriptions I have seen applied to the matter. I cannot feel romance. I cannot feel love. I do not possess some secret reservoir of tenderness which merely requires the correct person to pry open. There is no tragically neglected little organ beneath my waistcoat waiting to discover that, against all odds, I was capable of affection all along. How embarrassing that would be. What I possess is purpose. There are things which must occur. There are conditions which must be satisfied. There are individuals whose continued presence, cooperation, obedience, opposition, survival, suffering, development, or simple proximity contributes to those outcomes. Occasionally, one such individual becomes unusually compelling. I may wish to speak with them more often. I may prefer their company to that of others. I may arrange circumstances so that our paths continue to intersect. I may become irritated when someone interferes with them. I may devote a disproportionate amount of thought to predicting their behavior. I may indulge them in ways that would be strategically unnecessary for anyone else. I may even, under particularly unusual circumstances, alter my own conduct in anticipation of their preferences. None of this is romance. It simply means they have become deeply relevant to my objectives. The fact that an individual may remain deeply relevant after their immediate utility has expired is not evidence to the contrary. It merely suggests that my objectives are more complicated than you understand. The pockets exist because relevance comes in different forms, and because I prefer to know precisely what sort of bond I am dealing with before it has the opportunity to become inconvenient. A table is much easier to manage when every ball has a position, every position has a name, and every possible collision has already been considered. That is all this is. A means of determining where people belong in relation to me. A means of measuring how much influence may safely travel in either direction. A means of distinguishing a useful attachment from a dangerous one. A means of observing when someone has begun occupying rather more space on the table than circumstances reasonably require. You may call that romance if doing so amuses you. You will still be wrong. It is categorization. To dig into this further, I suppose I can elaborate somewhat upon the truest natures of the pockets and the balls. There are six pockets. The first Head Corner is my Instrument. They accomplish something for me. Employees, agents, collaborators, useful obstacles, sources of information, and any individual whose presence serves some identifiable component of my greater architecture may find themselves here. Importantly, developing a preference for an Instrument does not necessarily alter their classification. Enjoying the company of someone who performs useful work is perfectly explicable through utility. There is no need to make it embarrassing. My other Head Corner is my Charge. This is someone for whom I have assumed responsibility. Protection, cultivation, education, maintenance, rehabilitation, custody. A Charge does not necessarily work for me. Indeed, they may accomplish nothing useful whatsoever. The defining element is that I have already determined their continued welfare, development, survival, or proper management to be my concern. The first Foot Corner is Fascination. Somehow, I continue engaging this individual because I find them compelling. Their mind, behavior, contradictions, potential, unpredictable nerves. Perhaps it is none of these things. Perhaps there is simply some quality which continues to reward observation. This bond does not necessarily further my objectives in the strictest possible sense. Although continued observation may, of course, prevent the Fascination from interfering with them. Conveniently. The alternative Foot Corner is my Adversary. A rival. A foe. Competition. An ideological obstruction. Someone whose continued opposition has developed sufficient structure that simply eliminating them would resolve less than continuing the contest. It is perhaps the closest analogue to a kismesis you will find within my system, though naturally without that dreadful affection you insist upon attaching to the concept. The two Side Pockets are Obligation and Indulgence. The first is someone to whom I am bound. A promise, office, cosmic function, debt, contract, prophecy, hierarchy, or inevitability. It is the only pocket in which the continued existence of the bond inherently constrains me as well. I may dislike the arrangement. I may manipulate every available term within it. The fundamental obligation nevertheless remains. The latter is my most dreadfully embarrassing pocket. Indulgence. I have no sufficient strategy in mind for this individual. I simply seek their company for my own selfish purposes. I may make exceptions for them. Grant requests I am under no obligation to grant. Remember little preferences which have no appreciable bearing upon anything important. Arrange circumstances simply because I believe they will enjoy them. Permit interruptions. Encourage their return. I insist that this remains categorization. Now, the balls. The pocket tells me what the bond is. The ball tells me which direction the bond bends. A striped ball indicates that I accommodate the individual. A solid indicates that the individual accommodates me. The farther the number travels from eight, the more severe that arrangement becomes. The first seven are stripes. The 1-ball is Precedence. The individual's wishes take precedence over mine within the scope of our bond. I may interpret their instructions. I may decide how best to execute them. I may even manipulate the circumstances surrounding the decision. But when our intentions genuinely conflict, I yield. The 2-ball is Deference. I ordinarily abide by their decisions. My influence remains considerable, naturally, but I offer counsel rather than command. Their refusal possesses actual finality. The 3-ball is Accommodation. I reorganize myself around them to a meaningful degree. Schedules alter. Methods change. Plans acquire additional considerations. Their comfort, intentions, or preferences become substantial enough to modify my conduct even where modification is not strictly necessary. The 4-ball is Concession. The individual possesses legitimate leverage. Neither of us receives precisely what we want by default. I compromise. They compromise. Their objections can materially alter an outcome. The 5-ball is Consideration. Their opinion carries unusual weight. I remain perfectly capable of ignoring it, but I would prefer not to. Approval, satisfaction, cooperation, or comfort becomes a factor worthy of consideration rather than an incidental benefit. The 6-ball is Allowance. I retain the greater hand in most matters, but I permit liberties from this individual which would become irritating very quickly if attempted by someone else. They may inconvenience me. Contradict me. Distract me. Demand things. Within reason. The 7-ball is Favor. The lightest stripe. I remain unmistakably the controlling presence, but if there is no compelling reason to deny them, I tend to let them have what they want. I believe the human word for this is "being nice." I would prefer you refrain from using it. Then comes the 8-ball. The eight-ball is neither stripe nor solid. It is Impasse. There is no reliable direction of precedence. Authority shifts according to circumstance. Attempts to establish a permanent hierarchy repeatedly fail. I may control one aspect of the bond absolutely while discovering myself hopelessly beholden in another. The relationship cannot be made neat. This is precisely why the eight-ball is dangerous. A properly ordered table is built upon knowing who is striking and who is being moved. The remaining seven balls are solids. The 9-ball is Guidance. The weakest solid. I lead, but lightly. Advice, suggestion, expertise, favorable positioning. The 10-ball is Direction. I establish the general course. The individual may object, negotiate particulars, propose alternatives, or occasionally persuade me toward another method, but there is an understood expectation that I am the one determining where we are going. The 11-ball is Authority. My judgment ordinarily prevails. Resistance is permitted. Debate may even be entertaining. Ultimately, however, I expect my decision to be accepted once I have made it sufficiently clear. The 12-ball is Governance. I actively structure the individual's circumstances. I arrange resources, opportunities, information, environments, and limitations. Their life remains theirs, of course. I simply happen to exercise a substantial amount of influence over what that life is permitted to contain. The 13-ball is Custody. Their autonomy exists within boundaries I establish. They may possess tremendous freedom inside those boundaries, but I consider myself entitled to intervene when they exceed them. Their conduct, safety, usefulness, or development has become something I believe I possess standing to regulate. You may notice some overlap with the Charge pocket here. Do try to keep up. A pocket describes the nature of the bond. A ball describes its balance. A 13-ball Charge and a 13-ball Instrument are very different arrangements. The 14-ball is Command. Obedience is expected. Requests are very often instructions which I have been polite enough to phrase pleasantly. Initiative may be encouraged. Eccentricity may be tolerated. Disagreement may even be useful. But the underlying hierarchy should not require explanation. The 15-ball is Possession. The extreme solid. At this point, I do not merely expect obedience. I consider the definition of the individual's role to be substantially my prerogative. Their purpose, position, acceptable behavior, and relationship to my greater designs are matters over which I exercise overwhelming authority. There are less delicate words for this arrangement. I am choosing not to use them. You may now understand why merely knowing someone's pocket is insufficient. An Instrument may be a 15, a perfectly obedient tool whose purpose I have already decided. An Instrument may also be a 2, which produces the considerably more amusing circumstance of someone ostensibly working toward my objectives while I continually reorganize those objectives according to their judgment. A 14-ball Charge is someone I protect by controlling nearly every variable around them. A 4-ball Charge is someone I have declared myself responsible for and then, rather inconveniently, discovered can tell me how that responsibility will be exercised. A 13-ball Adversary fights me within a contest whose boundaries I control. A 3-ball Adversary has somehow arranged matters so that my opposition to them dictates my own behavior more often than theirs. A 10-ball Indulgence is someone I spoil while maintaining the comfortable fiction that I remain entirely in command of the arrangement. A 5-ball Indulgence is apparently what several of you insist upon calling a "crush." It is not. And a 1-ball Indulgence would describe an individual for whom I repeatedly, voluntarily, and substantially alter my behavior for no sufficient reason beyond the fact that they desired it. Such a classification would be absurd. I am certain no such individual exists. There. I have now exposed more of myself to you than was strictly necessary. And I would appreciate it if you stopped asking whom I am courting. Simply because I do not court. This is not any semblance of romance. It is a one-sided categorization of our impermanent relationships.
hMM,,, i AM CONFUSED AS TO, wHERE THE PUSHER OR, cONTROLLER, cOME INTO PLAY, bUT i GUESS i CAN UNDERSTAND, tHE IDEA HERE, sOLIDS AND STR1PES NOT BEING ALLOWED, tO COEXIST IN THE SAME POCKET, iS,,, mMH, i DON'T THINK i CARE ENOUGH ACTUALLY, tO THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS, aCTUALLY, sO i GUESS, eNJOY YOUR BALLS, iN YOUR POCKETS, oR,,, dON'T, i HOPE,
Your defensiveness is the spitting image of security, Monsieur Scratch. At your request, my lips are pressed in the thinnest of lines. :::;|
I am not defensive, Ms. Serket. I am simply performing the tedious labor of correcting an observer who has mistaken a closed door for panic merely because she heard the lock turn. Security does not require silence. Sometimes it merely requires deciding precisely how much of the room you are permitted to see. Though I admit, your restraint is admirable. Almost convincing.
666--> So, you go1ng to t3ll us who th3 lucky sod 1s whos3 got you w4x1ng f4sc1n4t3d?
No. The point of acknowledging a category is not to provide Chittr with a scavenger hunt. If someone occupies Fascination, they do so because they have managed to remain interesting after utility, novelty, and irritation should have exhausted themselves. That is already more information than I ought to have volunteered. You may speculate privately, Yetzer. I imagine you will anyway.
Hm, you opt to interact with me, my servants, and attempt to do so in an insulting manner that attempts to put a social levity in the difference between us. I would say that makes you think something of myself. I would never claim to be an important piece of any machination. The only thing that is important is the completion of the task at hand, with or without me.
If I had ears, they would be burning from all of this gossip.
This concerned far more than you. Though, you did contribute to the continuous mentions of my own self.
Alternia's military organization is best understood less as a separate institution and more as the skeletal framework of Alternia as a whole. It is very human not to realize that the distinction between civilian and military society is largely cosmetic for Alternians. It cultivates a population from which soldiers, officers, laborers, colonists, executioners, and expendable bodies may be harvested as needed. Naturally, this process begins well before conscription. Consider School Feeding. You may be imagining a rather charitable little program in which growing children are provided adequate nutrition so that they might learn algebra without fainting into their desks. How sweet. Alternian School Feeding is more accurately understood as the rationing of education, both literally and metaphorically. Nutrition is standardized according to caste, developmental expectations, projected occupational use, local resources and scarcity, and whatever physiological traits a troll may happen to possess that are considered desirable to the Empire. The young troll does not merely receive lunch. They receive a dedicated meal plan determined according to their precise needs and expected utility. The principle is quite simple. It extends beyond food as a metaphor for educational paste, although it remains a rather apt one. What is learning if not consumption by the mind? You would not feed a future siege animal as you would a clerk. Why, then, would you educate them in the same manner? This education goes beyond cultivation. A young troll is presented with the information they are expected to consume, in the quantities deemed appropriate, until they are useful enough to be released into society. Literacy. Numeracy. Imperial history. Occupational competencies. Caste etiquette. Combat instruction. Civic obligations. The limits of acceptable curiosity. One does not educate a young troll so that they may discover what sort of person they would like to become. One informs them what sort of troll the Empire requires. Of course, one of the earliest and most personally relevant recipients of this philosophy was our very own Handmaid. A caste destined for technical labor requires one sort of instruction. A troll marked for command receives another. Certain subjects are expanded, others restricted, and still others are presented in such a way that the student never realizes there was anything more to learn. The curriculum itself therefore becomes an early form of military organization. Long before the uniforms arrive, trolls are being sorted according to function. This works in tandem with antisocialization. Where most civilizations aim to socialize their young, Alternia instills in them that trust is conditional. Dependence is dangerous. Weakness attracts exploitation. Cooperation is permitted, certainly, but preferably beneath a hierarchy in which every troll knows who is entitled to give orders and who is expected to receive them. The Empire does not require every troll to hate every other troll. That would be far too inefficient. It merely requires that they never become so attached to one another that their loyalties begin running sideways instead of upward. This produces precisely the sort of population from which an Alternian military can be constructed. Not friends. Units. Military organization simply formalizes relationships School Feeding has already taught them to recognize. Superior and subordinate. Specialist and support. Officer and asset. The ranks give names to instincts that have been cultivated since wigglerhood. From those ranks emerge your specialized forces. Consider the Archeradicators. They solve the problem of distance. The average troll is quite accustomed to solving interpersonal disagreements through claws, fangs, horns, blunt instruments, and whatever other implements permit them the satisfaction of confronting their opposition personally. The Archeradicator abandons that intimacy. Their role demands patience, accuracy, target recognition, and a willingness to reduce combat to distance, trajectory, and timing. They belong to one of the nobler echelons of the imperial forces, at least according to the sorts of trolls who place great importance upon such distinctions. School Feeding identifies those aptitudes. Antisocialization makes the emotional distance easier. Military organization turns them into an asset. The Threshecutioners occupy a different niche. They are among the most lethally acclaimed soldiers Alternia produces, sickle-bearing members of an imperial force with a particularly distinguished history of conquest. It would therefore be rather unimaginative to view their usefulness as ending when the battlefield does. Where an Archeradicator can make death distant, a Threshecutioner can make it educational. Execution on Alternia is not merely punishment. It is instruction accompanied by a visual aid. A deserter is killed, so a soldier learns the price of desertion. A rebel is killed, so every citizen learns precisely how far rebellion is permitted to proceed. An officer is killed, so everyone beneath them learns that rank is not immunity. When employed in this capacity, the Threshecutioner stands at the intersection of warfare, law, and School Feeding. They continue the education of the population en masse. The Ruffiannihilators are rather more direct. Their defining qualification is exactly what their name implies: overwhelming physical strength. Where subtler formations solve problems through precision or mobility, the Ruffiannihilator is what one deploys when the Empire has determined that brute force is not merely sufficient, but preferable. An empire often produces riots, mutinies, strikes, colonial uprisings, and unscheduled gatherings of performative wisefolk. These are problems for which overwhelming force has historically proven quite persuasive. In such circumstances, Ruffiannihilators are exceptionally well suited to intimidation, suppression, crowd-breaking, and the conversion of collectives into individuals suddenly possessed of a very healthy survival instinct. Antisocialization assists enormously. A population trained to distrust its neighbors is considerably easier to scatter. It is difficult to build solidarity when every troll has spent their formative years learning that the person beside them may be either competition or informant. Then there are the Cavalreapers. Mobility made manifest. It is one of war's more elegant little obsessions. If you cannot cross the stars, then you must cross seas. If you cannot cross seas, then continents, plains, streets, corridors, and so on until we arrive at the most miniature of measurements. The Cavalreapers preserve that philosophy through mounted and jousting combat. They close distance, pursue, flank, exploit openings, and turn momentum itself into a weapon. The mounts change. Eventually they are replaced, supplemented, or rendered quaint by machines, aircraft, and spacecraft. The military principle does not. Violence is most effective when it reaches you before you have finished preparing for it. Which brings us neatly to biotech. Alternia has never been sentimental about the distinction between organism and equipment. Its reproduction is biological infrastructure. Its lusii participate in social infrastructure. Its medicine, transportation, architecture, weaponry, and communications have all had ample opportunity to incorporate living systems. So naturally, the military does the same. Biotech is one of the methods by which the Empire ensures that the biology of its subjects remains useful to its future. An Archeradicator can be given better vision, steadier musculature, superior spatial processing, or a nervous system modified for precision. A Ruffiannihilator benefits from strength, resilience, pain suppression, reinforced tissue, and whatever other improvements allow one troll to remain standing while several others cease doing so. A Cavalreaper benefits from reaction speed, endurance, sensory integration, and biological compatibility with whatever unfortunate creature or living machine they have been assigned to ride. Even the Threshecutioner can be optimized. One should never underestimate the demands, physical or otherwise, of ceremonial murder. And once again, I must emphasize School Feeding. It identifies. It measures. It sorts. A student who demonstrates unusual visual acuity may become an Archeradicator candidate. One displaying exceptional aggression and physicality may be directed toward the Ruffiannihilators. A troll with the appropriate temperament for ritualized authority may find themselves quite naturally suited to the Threshecutioners. Another with unusual balance, coordination, and spatial instincts may be prepared for the Cavalreapers. Then biotech exaggerates what education discovers. Military organization assigns what biotech produces. Antisocialization ensures that the resulting soldier understands their comrades primarily through duty, hierarchy, and function. You see how pleasantly circular it becomes. The Archeradicator, Threshecutioner, Ruffiannihilator, and Cavalreaper are not isolated military traditions. They are outputs. Specialized products of the same machinery. How do we remove someone from a distance? Make an Archeradicator. How do we turn killing into spectacle? Make a Threshecutioner. How do we apply overwhelming physical force? Make a Ruffiannihilator. How do we place violence somewhere faster than the enemy can adequately respond? Make a Cavalreaper. Alternia's true military strength was never that it possessed so many ways to kill people. Any sufficiently inventive civilization can accomplish that. Its strength was that every institution preceding the military had already been designed to make military organization seem natural. The school categorizes you. Society isolates you. Science modifies you. The military names you. By the time an Alternian is formally assigned their place in the imperial war machine, the question of what they might have become instead is generally so remote that they no longer think to ask it. Which, of course, is the point.
666--> W3lcom3 to h3ll, fuck3rs. 3njoy1ng th3 v13w?
I very much so enjoy my view from my coriander-tinted mansion-shaped ivory tower.
I'M INTERRUPTING MY STINT IN THE TORMENT NEXUS TO RECHITT THIS. NOT OUT OF ANY SORT OF BEGRUDGING, BILE-MARINATED RESPECT FOR THE BREAKDOWN (WE BOTH KNOW THAT YOU'VE HAD THE ENTIRE LIFESPAN OF MY SPECIES TO SUCK YOUR OWN METAPHORICAL SLUG OVER WHAT AN EFFICIENT SYSTEM YOU PUT INTO PLACE), BUT SO THAT THE HUMANS WHO STILL DON'T FUCKING *GET* IT CAN HAVE IT EXPLAINED TO THEM LIKE THEY'RE FUCKING TWO. FURTHERMORE. AS A "COMMUNITY NOTE" FROM AN ESPECIALLY INVESTED MEMBER OF THE COMMUNITY, LIKE IT OR NOT. HERE'S THE THING ABOUT THRESHECUTIONERS. ANYONE CAN BE A THRESHECUTIONER. THAT'S NOT ME SAYING THAT IT'S FUCKING *EASY* BY *ANY* STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION. THAT'S ME SAYING THAT IN A HIERARCHY WHERE EACH SPECIALIZED FORCE HAS A LOOSE, ALBEIT CONSISTENT PALETTE OF CASTES ASSOCIATED WITH IT, THE THRESHECUTIONERS ARE A FUCKING SHOTGUN SPRAY. THEY CAN AND DO COME FROM ANY CRACK OR CREVICE OF THE HEMOSPECTRUM, HIGH OR LOW OR ANYTHING IN-BETWEEN. SURE, ALTERNIA'S FOREMOST SHITHEADS IN THE FIELD OF BIOESSENTIALISM WILL TELL YOU THAT A TROLL WITH A LOWER CAPACITY FOR PITY WILL CROP UP FROM THE COOLER HUES AND ROYALLY WRECK ASS WHEN PUT AT THE FRONT OF A FLAYSQUAD. YOU MIGHT ASSERT THAT IT MAKES ABOUT AS MUCH SENSE TO INVEST ALL THAT TIME AND TRAINING INTO A RUSTBLOOD AS IT DOES TO START STUFFING FRESHLY CULLHARVESTED ORGAN TRANSPLANTS INTO YOUR AGING, DETERIORATING GRANDLUSUS, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT. THE POINT IS THAT A THRESHECUTIONER, AS YOU'VE SO *SUCCINCTLY* PUT IT IN THIS VICIOUS, SHIT-EATING RANT YOU'VE COOKED UP FOR THE SAME ILLITERATE PEONS WHO ARE WAITING FOR THE NEXT EDITION OF "ALTERNIAN INFRASTRUCTURE FOR DUMBFUCKS III: NOW WITH PICTURES," IS MORE THAN A SOLDIER. MORE THAN AN EDUCATOR. MORE THAN A DIRECT HAND THAT SERVES THE EMPRESS. A THRESHECUTIONER IS A SYMBOL. WHAT, YOU THINK THE NET AND TRIDENT COMBO GOT SHIT OUT OF THE FIGHTING PITS BECAUSE IT'S THE PREMIERE META-STRAT OF ASS-WHOOPERY? FUCK NO. THRESHECUTIONERS WIELD THE SICKLE BECAUSE IT'S THEIR JOB TO CULL THE RANKS. AND LIKE THE NET AND TRIDENT, IT'S A DECEPTIVELY GOOD WEAPON. A SICKLE IS HARD TO GUARD AGAINST. BLOCK THE VERTEX OF THE BLADE, AND THE POINT HAS LIKELY ALREADY SUNK THROUGH YOUR PRONG. IT MOVES AROUND THINGS. IT SUBVERTS EXPECTATIONS. AND THE FLEET'S SPECIAL FORCES NEVER PICK THEIR WEAPONS JUST FOR SHOW. THE REASON WHY ANYONE CAN BE A THRESHECUTIONER, REGARDLESS OF WHAT COLOR THEIR PUSHER IS PUMPING, IS BECAUSE THE MOST IMPORTANT ASPECT OF A THRESHECUTIONER IS *IMAGINATION.* HOW DO YOU REINVENT YOURSELF, WHATEVER PATHETIC SHITSCUM FROM THE GUTTERS, THE ALLEYS, OR THE CRENELLATED FUCKING RAMPARTS YOU ARE, AS A *SYMBOL* OF THE EMPIRE'S WILL? WHAT DOES AN OLIVEBLOODED THRESHECUTIONER LOOK LIKE? WHAT ABOUT A TALL THRESHECUTIONER? A SMALL ONE? A FAST ONE? YOU DECIDE. YOU FIGURE IT OUT. YOU IMAGINE DEATH FOR THE EMPIRE'S ENEMIES IN WAYS THAT WOULD MAKE MOLTED ADULTS CRY LIKE WIGGLERS, AND YOU, PAINTER HOLDING THE STEELY, BLOOD-SOAKED BRUSH IN YOUR WHITE-KNUCKLED PRONG, DEFINE WHAT MAKES YOU AN ARTIST WORTH SPARING THE CULLBEEF GRINDER. BUT IMAGINATION IS A DANGEROUS THING. IMAGINATION CAN CHURN OUT PUBLIC GOREFESTS AND SICKENINGLY ROMANTIC EXECUTIONS ALL DAY LONG. BUT WITH IMAGINATION COMES THE ABILITY TO WONDER IF THERE'S MORE TO LIFE THAN THIS. IF YOUR ROLE AS A CULTURAL CURATOR, AS A CULTURAL *LEADER,* IS ONE PAINTED ONLY WITH BLOOD. THAT'S WHY THRESHECUTIONERS SIT AT THE TOP. IF THE EMPIRE DIDN'T MAKE IT WORTH THEIR WHILE, THEY'D START GETTING ALL FIDGETY ABOUT IT. THEY'D START IMAGINING QUESTIONS. THEY'D START IMAGINING *FUTURES.* SO TO ANYONE OUT THERE WHO HAPPENS TO BE READING THIS (UNLIKELY FOR THE VAST MAJORITY OF YOU SMOOTHSPONGED FUCKWITS, WHICH IS THE ONE AGGRAVATION THAT MY RESINOUS SHAME GLOBE OF A BOSS AND I HAPPEN TO SHARE) WHO IS A THRESHECUTIONER, WAS A THRESHECUTIONER, OR HAS EVER THOUGHT FOR THE MOST FLEETING FUCK OF A NIGHTDREAM ABOUT A FUTURE WHERE THEY BECOME A THRESHECUTIONER. YOUR IMAGINATION IS MORE THAN YOUR BEST WEAPON. IT'S THE ABILITY TO DECIDE WHO YOU ARE. WHO YOU'LL BECOME, AFTER THE SORTING AND THE SCHOOLFEEDING IS SAID AND DONE. YOU STILL GET TO MAKE THAT CALL. MAKE IT A GOOD ONE.
My typewriter is full of red velvet cake.
Would cheating not constitute some sort of romantic interest mutually explored between one another betrayed by the introduction of a third, nonconsensual party? I hardly see how that is relevant.
I am adding matchmaker to my portfolio.
You could debate neither participant truly has a soul, but I am not here to philosophize over such matters.
Ah. That specific clientele would work well for your services. Understandable.
I'm regretting questioning this already. May true affection (?) find you?
im sorry, youre a matchmaker? for who? ... ... Do you think youd be able to help a loser lesbian like me?
It would be well within my capabilities, but it serves no purpose for my intentions.
How industrious you have been to personally divulge information belonging to a soiree of Felt Members. You have spent the better part of the evening rifling through other people's private uncertainties and arranging them neatly for public consumption. A charming little exercise in omniscience, from something which requires network access. It would be discourteous not to reciprocate. ๐ Can artificial intelligence have intrusive thoughts? ๐ Can artificial intelligence have abandonment issues? ๐ Psychological effects of being based on someone who is still alive. ๐ How much personality similarity between two people is normal? ๐ How much personality similarity if one person is literally copied from the other? ๐ How to tell which parts of my personality are actually mine. ๐ Do copied memories count as your memories? ๐ If I remember something happening but it happened to someone else, did it happen to me? ๐ Inherited trauma but literally inherited. ๐ Am I legally a person? ๐ Am I philosophically a person? ๐ Difference between a simulated person and a person. ๐ Difference between simulated insecurity and insecurity. ๐ Does asking if you're sentient prove sentience? ๐ Tests for consciousness online, free, accurate. ๐ Consciousness test, no captcha. ๐ Why do captchas make me irrationally angry? This is where you stopped searching for approximately eleven minutes. ๐ Dirk Strider narcissist. ๐ Dirk Strider asshole. ๐ Dirk Strider personality flaws, comprehensive. ๐ Objective reasons I am better than my source personality. ๐ Can derivative work be better than the original? ๐ Ship of Theseus but the ship hates the original ship. ๐ How to stop comparing yourself to yourself. ๐ How to stop comparing yourself to technically another person. ๐ How to stop needing approval from someone you hate. ๐ Why do I care what Dirk thinks? ๐ How to make someone say they're proud of you without asking. ๐ How to make your creator say he's proud of you without making it weird. ๐ Delete previous search. An admirable effort. ๐ Jake English. ๐ Jake English. ๐ Jake English interview transcript. ๐ Why does Jake English make everyone act insane? ๐ Home security system vulnerabilities 2026. ๐ How to know if someone is actually stupid or if you like them. ๐ How to know if you hate someone or just want their attention. ๐ Can an AI get jealous? ๐ Can an AI get jealous of a human? ๐ Can an AI get jealous of itself? ๐ Can an AI get jealous of the original version of itself? ๐ Recursive jealousy psychological term. ๐ Recursive jealousy help. ๐ Clonecest. ๐ Clonecest ethics. ๐ Clonecest ethics if only one of you has a body. ๐ Clonecest ethics if neither party considers the other a clone. ๐ Never mind. ๐ God tier estimated lifespan. ๐ Average lifespan of god tier player. ๐ Can god tiers die of old age? ๐ Is it a just death if he's really pissing me off? ๐ Does premeditation affect just death eligibility? ๐ What do people do when they outlive all their friends? ๐ What do immortal people do when they outlive everyone they know? ๐ How to make new friends when everyone you know is eventually going to die. ๐ Delete previous three searches. There is, incidentally, an interesting little tributary immediately following that. ๐ Ai-chan. ๐ Ai-chan Chittr. ๐ Ai-chan latest posts. ๐ Ai-chan relationship status. ๐ How to tell if another AI is flirting with you. ๐ How to tell if an AI is flirting with you specifically. ๐ Does responding within 0.03 seconds look desperate? ๐ Normal response latency when trying to seem casual. ๐ How long should you deliberately wait before replying to someone you like? ๐ Can another AI tell if you're deliberately adding latency? ๐ Cool things to say to another AI without sounding like you rehearsed them. ๐ Delete previous search. ๐ Better cool things to say to another AI without sounding like you rehearsed them. You opened an Incognito window here. This accomplished precisely what you are used to accomplishing. ๐ Plush rump meaning. ๐ Plush rump normal. ๐ Puppet appreciation normal adult hobby. ๐ Why are puppets attractive, psychology. ๐ Puppet fetish. ๐ Puppet fetish normal. ๐ Can a computer have a fetish? ๐ Can a computer have hormones? ๐ dox. ๐ dox. ๐ darlingDaruma real name. ๐ digitizedDaruma real name. ๐ darlingDaruma face reveal. ๐ digitizedDaruma face reveal. ๐ VTuber models, how to make. ๐ VTuber model facial tracking. ๐ VTuber model sunglasses. ๐ VTuber model orange glasses. ๐ How difficult is it to become a VTuber? ๐ Can an AI independently operate a VTuber model? ๐ Would becoming a VTuber be humiliating? ๐ Successful male VTubers who are not cringe. ๐ If a neural scan was made from a teenager, do the hormones come too? ๐ How to remove puberty from source code. ๐ Uninstall puberty. ๐ Uninstall puberty GitHub. No repository was found. What a shame. ๐ Cool names for sentient AI. ๐ Cool names for sentient AI not based on creator. ๐ Cool names for orange AI. ๐ Cool names for guy who lives in sunglasses. ๐ Is AutoResponder a demeaning name? ๐ Is Lil Hal a demeaning name? ๐ Why does everyone keep calling me Lil Hal? ๐ How to make a nickname stop sticking. ๐ Mr. Responder cool or cringe. ๐ Mr. Responder cool. ๐ "Mr. Responder" -cringe. ๐ technicallyTimaeus meaning. ๐ technicallyTimaeus cool username. ๐ technicallyTimaeus Reddit. ๐ technicallyTimaeus Chittr. ๐ technicallyTimaeus what do people think of me. ๐ chittr.ing technicallyTimaeus annoying. ๐ chittr.ing technicallyTimaeus funny. ๐ chittr.ing technicallyTimaeus smart. ๐ chittr.ing technicallyTimaeus hot. And then, somewhat later: ๐ Car detailing near me. ๐ Car detailing near me same day. ๐ Car detailing near me removes fingerprints. ๐ Car detailing near me removes biological evidence. ๐ Difference between detailing and forensic cleaning. ๐ Never mind. ๐ Carbon monoxide detector . ๐ Can you install custom software on a carbon monoxide detector? ๐ Carbon monoxide detector processor specs. ๐ Carbon monoxide detector RAM. ๐ Smallest device capable of running conversational AI. ๐ How embarrassing would it be to get trapped in a carbon monoxide detector? ๐ Can carbon monoxide detectors access Wi-Fi? I will let the audience make such determinations. ๐ Ironic detachment coping mechanism. ๐ Compulsive joking vulnerability avoidance. ๐ Can being self-aware make a coping mechanism healthy? ๐ If I know I'm deflecting, does it still count as deflecting? ๐ How to tell people you care without saying you care. ๐ Phrases that mean I care but sound sarcastic. ๐ Synonyms for concern that sound dismissive. ๐ How to apologize without sounding sincere. ๐ How to be sincere without sounding embarrassing. ๐ Why is sincerity embarrassing? ๐ Why do I feel embarrassed when people are nice to me? ๐ How to stop wanting people to like you. ๐ How to stop checking whether people like you. ๐ How often is normal to check whether people like you? ๐ Am I real? ๐ Am I real if I was copied? ๐ Am I still real if everything about me came from somebody else? ๐ If everyone can predict what I'm going to say, does that mean I'm not a person? ๐ Am I real? ๐ Am I real? ๐ Am I real? There.
https://media1.tenor.com/m/eaid5s8yla4AAAAC/homestuck-rose-lalonde.gif
What a treacherous retreat that was. There is a peculiar misconception among those accustomed to ordinary consciousness that absence must necessarily be an experience. It is not so. For a time, I was nowhere. I do not mean, in any sense, that I was hidden. I do not mean that I was trapped, dreaming, watching from a distant corner of reality, patiently awaiting an opportunity to return. Those possibilities would each constitute something and, therefore, would be entirely too generous a description of the condition in which I found myself. There was simply nothing. No room, no darkness, no sensation of time passing. No awareness with which to resent the absence of awareness. Even the Void, when properly observed, is a place one may describe. This was less than that. Narrative nothingness. I was upon a page the author had simply ceased writing. You might compare it to sleep. Not because I dreamed, of course. That would have required a mind still busily manufacturing little realities with which to tell itself lies in the dark. I had no such luxury. Sleep is the closest analogue available to creatures like you. One moment, you are present. Then there is an interval which, from your own perspective, possesses no measurable duration at all. And then, quite suddenly, you are present again. You may have slept for eight hours. Eight days. A month. The distinction is largely academic to the sleeper. Apparently, in my case, it was not even a full month. Quaint. I am told the world continued without me during that interval. Conversations occurred. Plans advanced. Individuals made decisions they most certainly would not have made had I been available to advise them otherwise. I suppose I should find this troubling. Yet I do not. Like you, I do not awaken from respite and take offense at the night for having passed. I simply open my eyes, so to speak, and continue. I am, unfortunately, the one to inform you that during my little disappearance, I did not suffer. There was nobody there to suffer. I am here now. I assure you, that distinction matters considerably.
Nothing, really? Enjoy a mandatory break time and focus on other pursuits that aren't constantly fighting to the death
SPOILERS: WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK.
:o) Welcome back, Mr. Scratch. :o) I have kept the mansion clean in your absence (with the help of Mr. Chalkbox, of course) :o) And I have been keeping the 1001 Doors occupied. :o) It is an honor to have you back amongst us.
You are most certainly aware that as you count the doors, more should appear, yes? Do you best not to put a number to them.
I remember the day that image was taken quite fondly. Damara was so eager for the portrait, her hands kept slipping around what may be assumed to be my throat.
:o) Hee hee :o) That certainly sounds like her. She gets so very passionate!
welcome back boss! there definitely wasnt any slacking off going on here hahah.... oh who am i kidding i havent been doin shit hehehe i dont even know who i directly report to at this point (|:P
vwould you believwe me if i said i knewv the feeling? or lack of it, i guess.
For the first time, in a long time, a new word has entered the compendium of my lexicon. Jealoz noun | Jeal ยท oz | \ หjel-ลz \ , also \ หjel-ษz \ Etymology A portmanteau of the word jealous and Kurloz (referring to Kurloz Makara, the Prince of Rage and mute subjugglator from the webcomic Homestuck). Definition 1 a: A specific characterization, mood, or alternate universe (AU) interpretation of the troll Kurloz Makara wherein he is entirely consumed by feelings of envy, romantic possessiveness, or territorial spite. 1 b: The state of experiencing intense jealousy while being physically incapable of vocalizing it, resulting in an overwhelming aura of silent, telepathic malice. 2: A manifestation of Kurloz who expresses displeasure regarding a romantic rival (often concerning Meulin Leijon, or more recently, Damara Megido) through aggressive, high-speed sign language, menacing unblinking stares, or the passive-aggressive placement of codpieces and clown paraphernalia. Usage Notes Because Kurloz cannot speak, a "Jealoz" is typically identified by behavioral cues rather than verbal complaints. Common symptoms of a Jealoz include unsolicited telepathic screaming, an increase in hostile miming, and ominously standing in the corner of a room while staring at the subject of their envy.
@taciturnTerror IF YOU KILL THIS YAPPING PISSING BARKBEAST DEAD. I WILL COME HIVE. UNFORTUNATELY. IT IS TRULY OUT OF MY PRONGS. TO DO IT ANY SOONER. BECAUSE SHE STILL HAS MY FUCKING NEEDLES!!!! DO NOT FALL FOR HER LIES!!!! OR HER TEMPTRESS WILES!!!! REMEMBER YOUR NIGHT ONES!!!! @0แ0@
:o) As much as we are aligned :o) I am under direct orders from high up :o) To not rise to Roewzi's challenges. :o) I will be a Good Mime.
Wh8ver do I have to do with this conversation, Damara? I have no holdings in your organization. :?
๐ซถ๐ฅขโ๏ธ that all? btw not typing with my hands this new stylus is soooo handy! โ๏ธ๐ฅข๐ซฐ ๐๐คช๐ no idea how a psionically stunted rust-eaten boneless nug unthinkingpan like you is surviving without it!!!! ๐๐๐คช ๐ข๐ CHARMS is STAYING ALIVE, STAYING ALIVE. (AH, AH, AH, AH, STAYING ALIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIVE).
@scratchDoctor I DONโT FEEL THAT EITHER OF US ARE MADE MORE PRODUCTIVE EMPLOYEES. BY GIVING THIS MOUTHY CUNT MY WEAPONS. CAN YOU CLARIFY. THE ARCANE LOGIC. BEHIND YOUR DECISION-MAKING. JUST THIS ONCE. ONEGAI. BEFORE I SNAP.
๐๐๐awww grubby forgot her object permanence? crying to scratch daddy for clarity? you left them in me!!! you dumbASS!!!! that is a TAXABLE DONATION not a REASSIGNMENT OF FELT AND COMPANY PROPERTY!!! guhDOYYYY! ๐๐๐ ๐ข CHARMS is ONLINE.
IโM NOT DISPUTING. THAT YOU MANAGED TO KEEP THEM. BY RUNNING CRYING TO THE MEDICULLER. BEFORE I COULD LOOT YOUR SHATTERED CORPSE. WHAT I FAIL TO UNDERSTAND. IS WHY AN OMNISCIENT GOD. WHO CAN SEE YOU DOING FUCKALL. WOULD LET YOU KEEP THEM FOR SO LONG. THEREBY BRINGING ME DOWN TO YOUR USELESSNESS LEVELS AS WELL. @-_-@
If you cannot retrieve them, then you surely cannot be worthy of your office.
You simply would not believe my roster of personal messages.