Post by T on Oct 20, 2018 13:32:16 GMT -5
Hello there.
You sure are persistent.
Either way,
thanks for stopping by.
There is not much here,
but there is something.
So sit back,
grab a beverage,
and grab a beverage again.
? ? ? ? ? ?
[ Time Does Not Matter ]
Particularity is the quality of being individual. What happens then, when a person stands at the epitome of particularity? Why should anything or anyone be bothered by nuance in a vacuum? How will all of this matter in the end- when all is eventually reduced back to zero?
None of it truly did. Opportunities do not exist in the void. Only by interacting with the denizens of the Galaxy; instead of floating around as if one were a deity; would one begin to have their effect in the dimensions they experience. To craft and to present is of utmost importance when the affairs of various minds peek past the shallow glass and into what occurs from day, to day, to gruelling day.
In this chain of interaction, it would seem as if T was present, yet absent. He was neither aware, nor there. A mere idea floating about since the linking of realms took place. Wherever the real man resided was beyond anyone’s knowledge at that point in time.
“Jeeves.” Called the colourless figure as it walked on the ceiling of an empty hall of mirrors.
At this voice, the butler obliged. “Yes, sire?”
Old eyes narrowed upon the sight of this sketch of a man. His duties and loyalty laid solely with the Lord Breaker- not some fragment of what could possibly be his entity. The Walkway spawned all sorts of possibilities based off certain thought at the moment of construction, yet for an Outline to exit the dimension was an impossibility in of itself. Despite the chaotic nature of the realm, its denizens were bound to certain rules.
Then again, the chance that this thing was brought about through different means always sounded plausible. All part and parcel of working with T, he supposed.
As the image walked down a pane of glass, multiple reflections bounced off the surfaces of the mirror-laden maze. Some of them carried weapons, some of them appeared almost akin to the image, yet all of them had a difference in one small way or another. An extra button perhaps- a strand of hair facing another way.
It was clear that wherever searching for his master had lead him, this was as close; while remaining simultaneously as far; as Cheese would get to him for the time being.
“I’ve been studying something and I need you to lend me your ear on it.” Told ’T’ before placing itself upon an empty, wooden stool. In opposition, one sat on a throne- another possessed a couch to rest easy. Couches were clearly the true answer to this timeless hammock of a situation. Hammock. There hung a hammock among the many as well.
“You have been studying, my lord?” Cheese nearly gasped.
“Hilarious.” Pure white hands came to meet each other in a series of slow claps. Multiplied by each ’T’, this transitioned into an eerily synchronised applause. “You get an A plus for effort.”
“I pride myself on linguistics and sense of attire.” Announced the butler with an absence of glee behind his tone.
“That you do, but do you believe we live in a Multiverse?”
“If I am not mistaken, it is a fact that existence as a whole is comprised of twelve universes in total.” Thirteen universes; eighteen previously; with two of the thirteen being merged FOR SOME REASON that may or may not be explained. “Ergo, it would be safe to say that we live in a Multiverse, yes.” Probably. Maybe. Likely.
To that, ’T’ brought forth a demand. “Right, then define ‘Universe’ for me, Jeeves.”
“All existing matter and space considered as a whole; the cosmos, Lord Breaker.” A reply quite aptly made.
“Would this fact then continue to rest easy on your shoulders?”
“I am not sure I follow.” Admitted the veteran.
“Galaxy, Jeeves!” Bringing its arms up to stretch, the being’s speaking adopted a mildly excited pace. “We live in a galaxy.”
Clearly they did live in a galaxy, albeit a galaxies are an extremely tiny portion of a universe. Thus, this announcement brought about confusion to the current conversation. It was redundant to say that they lived in a galaxy- almost everyone and their mother probably knew of that fact. In spite of this, ’T’ went on to explain its own questionably-termed perspective on the matter.
“The universe is meant to be infinite, unrestrained, ever-spanning.” A statement so clear, yet so frequently overlooked when concerning their existence. It stood up- they all stood up. It sauntered into one of the panes, and out from a mirror opposite came an exact replica wearing a bowtie. “A realm of undefined possibilities seeping into every crevasse of space that the reality encompasses.” Hands raised to adjust its tie ever so carefully as it directed its case to a nearby pane. “Yet you would face me with the idea that the universe spans one known galaxy each?”
In the face of all that is unknown, maintain one’s composure and abstain from frantic activities. To quote the original Lord Breaker: “Pineapples are blue.”
Wait no, wrong line.
“An apple a day keeps the Kais away.”
No, not that one either.
Moving on:
“Perhaps there is a contradiction in the terms used by divinity.” Humbly uttered the mere mortal man.
After all, what are the Kais without their share of lacklustre management? When Cheese first learnt that gods did, in fact, exist and that they spent their days up on their own world while simply monitoring creation, he was furious. Nothing- they had done nothing at all in regards to the atrocities that mortals committed. All of the destruction extraterrestrial races inflicted upon Earth was enough merit to at least do something for humans.
This was why he could not find peace. That was why he wandered the land as a lost soul- ever adrift in the madness of reality until a very different madness found him and so happened to offer him a job.
“EXACTLY, JEEVES.” ’T’ clapped once more, nodding his head as a sly smile spread from ear to ear. “We aren’t gods- we can do better than that.”
Momentary silence filled the realm they currently resided within. Neither a hoot, nor a holler or a laugh was made. None of the reflections even gave a giggle at the joke they all simultaneously cracked.
“I humbly remind you to keep that pride in check.” Cheese spoke up at last. Whatever laughter almost broke out from him, he contained without so much as a hint.
A sigh escaped the ¿Lord Bearker?’s lips. He sat back down onto his beanbag- dejected. “It’s not funny if I have to explain my joke, Jeeves.”
“My apologies sir.” At this response, he bowed forward lightly prior to standing rrrrrrrright back up. “I cannot lie to you.” Not that he was incapable of doing so- the butler simply did not because he had values.
“All is forgiven.” A palm waved idly as the other hand met its forehead. Clearly, more time needed to be allotted to the writing of jokes. After the moment of ABSOLUTE PAIN from not having his jest meet its mark, ’T’ snapped its fingers in unison. “Back on topic- twelve-ish galaxies-slash-‘universes’, and some particular similarities between them.”
Two ways of thinking about this topic could be adopted. The first being; and possessing enormously disappointing nature; that each universe was somehow infinitely spanning, yet only held a few forms of sentient life. Unlimited potential for a multitude of similar species to appear once, twice, or three times, yet none could be found except for the plain old humanoid features.
Another theory could be that they have yet to be found. That gave Cheese a cheesy idea.
“An argument against your use of the the ‘galaxy’ instead of universe would be the strange likeness between Universe 6’s Namekians and our own.” Having two of the same species being located in two different so called universes only strengthened the image’s point, yet that much did not stop the butler from continuing. “Could that not mean that it is a parallel universe?”
“Neat counter-argument to consider, but not at all unexpected.” ’T’ gave it a four out of ten.
And so, it continued on once more.
“The scope of what Kais call ‘universes’ are limited in of themselves.” The ’T’ shook its legs idly as the being began to rotate ever so slow in mid-air. “Do you really think that these neon-coloured-fancy people have the mental faculties required to process infinity?” Asked the entity with a tinge of cheek to its voice. A keen eye would be able to spot that it was not the thing that moved- the entire landscape shifted. “Hell, I’d give them a lot more credit if they fixed up our own galaxy before moving on to the next one.”
Inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre, atom by atom, the labyrinthian hollow warped and contorted. Shrill snaps and pangs resounded throughout every crevasse in the hall. A kaleidoscope of countless possibilities turning around- disorientating, reflecting, approaching ever closer. The ’T’s in each image still failed to acquire any semblance of colour, save for white tones and black outlines. Each sketch had a story. Every story had a difference.
A change in pocket placement.
A lick of hair facing another way.
A crazed smile, spectating the event.
“Give the gods enough rope, why don’t you?” Cheese narrowed his eyes as his tone harshened. Whatever this was, it was certainly not of the Lord Breaker’s doing. This scenario deviated too far from what could disastrously be even considered the normal.
“Point is,” ’T’ spoke yet again, tapping lightly tapping on the side of its egg chair. “This is galaxy we live in is a part of a collective universe.” A limited, ill-defined universe. “And a while ago, I came to realise that I am truly alone in it.”
“Pardon me?” The butler had a hard time following the context of this strange entity’s words.
And so, it explained itself. “About a year ago, I sent out a wide spanning telepathic message aimed at entities; or at the very least, a entity; that retained my likeness.”
“You were looking for alternate versions of yourself.” Fear, astonishment, distaste, or perhaps even a combination of all three caused his eyes to widen. For a moment, the man showed a loss of composure. “But why?” All he managed to ask- all he probably should ask.
“Boredom, mostly.” A simply shrug displayed its lack of proper motive. An abundance of power and nothing to do with said power just about did that much for it. “I didn’t expect there to hit with a chockfull of existential crisises.” It brought a hand to his chin, thinking to itself whether the correct word had been used. “Crisii?”
“Crises, my lord.” Cheese corrected aptly. “Also pardon my Space-French, but what the hell?”
Not only did this mean that T was attempted to look for proof of alternate realities, alternate ’T’s, and different possibilities along the event horizon to explore, but he did so entirely out of boredom. As far as Cheese was concerned, the existential crisis of having no alternate versions of himself was warranted by this reckless behaviour. One Lord Breaker stood as a difficult person to manage.
Two of him may very well have brought about an age of silly darkness over the entire galaxy. Infinite moons made from chocolate milk flying over planets composed entirely of cows. Seas pouring throughout each solar system, filled to the brim by fish and aquatic life unknown to the very universe. The fabric of reality being used as a trampoline for a pair of jesters to use and abuse as they wish. All forms of nonsensical chaos may have ensued.
It was either that or they would fight with one another. T did not especially like a lot of things. In fact, he hated everything. The being loathed all within the grasp of this wretched existence. Yet in this continuity, he displayed compassion.
Thinking about where all of that rage went sent a chill down the butler’s spine.
? ? ? ? ? ?
[ Time Does Not Matter ]
Particularity is the quality of being individual. What happens then, when a person stands at the epitome of particularity? Why should anything or anyone be bothered by nuance in a vacuum? How will all of this matter in the end- when all is eventually reduced back to zero?
None of it truly did. Opportunities do not exist in the void. Only by interacting with the denizens of the Galaxy; instead of floating around as if one were a deity; would one begin to have their effect in the dimensions they experience. To craft and to present is of utmost importance when the affairs of various minds peek past the shallow glass and into what occurs from day, to day, to gruelling day.
In this chain of interaction, it would seem as if T was present, yet absent. He was neither aware, nor there. A mere idea floating about since the linking of realms took place. Wherever the real man resided was beyond anyone’s knowledge at that point in time.
“Jeeves.” Called the colourless figure as it walked on the ceiling of an empty hall of mirrors.
At this voice, the butler obliged. “Yes, sire?”
Old eyes narrowed upon the sight of this sketch of a man. His duties and loyalty laid solely with the Lord Breaker- not some fragment of what could possibly be his entity. The Walkway spawned all sorts of possibilities based off certain thought at the moment of construction, yet for an Outline to exit the dimension was an impossibility in of itself. Despite the chaotic nature of the realm, its denizens were bound to certain rules.
Then again, the chance that this thing was brought about through different means always sounded plausible. All part and parcel of working with T, he supposed.
As the image walked down a pane of glass, multiple reflections bounced off the surfaces of the mirror-laden maze. Some of them carried weapons, some of them appeared almost akin to the image, yet all of them had a difference in one small way or another. An extra button perhaps- a strand of hair facing another way.
It was clear that wherever searching for his master had lead him, this was as close; while remaining simultaneously as far; as Cheese would get to him for the time being.
“I’ve been studying something and I need you to lend me your ear on it.” Told ’T’ before placing itself upon an empty, wooden stool. In opposition, one sat on a throne- another possessed a couch to rest easy. Couches were clearly the true answer to this timeless hammock of a situation. Hammock. There hung a hammock among the many as well.
“You have been studying, my lord?” Cheese nearly gasped.
“Hilarious.” Pure white hands came to meet each other in a series of slow claps. Multiplied by each ’T’, this transitioned into an eerily synchronised applause. “You get an A plus for effort.”
“I pride myself on linguistics and sense of attire.” Announced the butler with an absence of glee behind his tone.
“That you do, but do you believe we live in a Multiverse?”
“If I am not mistaken, it is a fact that existence as a whole is comprised of twelve universes in total.” Thirteen universes; eighteen previously; with two of the thirteen being merged FOR SOME REASON that may or may not be explained. “Ergo, it would be safe to say that we live in a Multiverse, yes.” Probably. Maybe. Likely.
To that, ’T’ brought forth a demand. “Right, then define ‘Universe’ for me, Jeeves.”
“All existing matter and space considered as a whole; the cosmos, Lord Breaker.” A reply quite aptly made.
“Would this fact then continue to rest easy on your shoulders?”
“I am not sure I follow.” Admitted the veteran.
“Galaxy, Jeeves!” Bringing its arms up to stretch, the being’s speaking adopted a mildly excited pace. “We live in a galaxy.”
Clearly they did live in a galaxy, albeit a galaxies are an extremely tiny portion of a universe. Thus, this announcement brought about confusion to the current conversation. It was redundant to say that they lived in a galaxy- almost everyone and their mother probably knew of that fact. In spite of this, ’T’ went on to explain its own questionably-termed perspective on the matter.
“The universe is meant to be infinite, unrestrained, ever-spanning.” A statement so clear, yet so frequently overlooked when concerning their existence. It stood up- they all stood up. It sauntered into one of the panes, and out from a mirror opposite came an exact replica wearing a bowtie. “A realm of undefined possibilities seeping into every crevasse of space that the reality encompasses.” Hands raised to adjust its tie ever so carefully as it directed its case to a nearby pane. “Yet you would face me with the idea that the universe spans one known galaxy each?”
In the face of all that is unknown, maintain one’s composure and abstain from frantic activities. To quote the original Lord Breaker: “Pineapples are blue.”
Wait no, wrong line.
“An apple a day keeps the Kais away.”
No, not that one either.
Moving on:
“Perhaps there is a contradiction in the terms used by divinity.” Humbly uttered the mere mortal man.
After all, what are the Kais without their share of lacklustre management? When Cheese first learnt that gods did, in fact, exist and that they spent their days up on their own world while simply monitoring creation, he was furious. Nothing- they had done nothing at all in regards to the atrocities that mortals committed. All of the destruction extraterrestrial races inflicted upon Earth was enough merit to at least do something for humans.
This was why he could not find peace. That was why he wandered the land as a lost soul- ever adrift in the madness of reality until a very different madness found him and so happened to offer him a job.
“EXACTLY, JEEVES.” ’T’ clapped once more, nodding his head as a sly smile spread from ear to ear. “We aren’t gods- we can do better than that.”
Momentary silence filled the realm they currently resided within. Neither a hoot, nor a holler or a laugh was made. None of the reflections even gave a giggle at the joke they all simultaneously cracked.
“I humbly remind you to keep that pride in check.” Cheese spoke up at last. Whatever laughter almost broke out from him, he contained without so much as a hint.
A sigh escaped the ¿Lord Bearker?’s lips. He sat back down onto his beanbag- dejected. “It’s not funny if I have to explain my joke, Jeeves.”
“My apologies sir.” At this response, he bowed forward lightly prior to standing rrrrrrrright back up. “I cannot lie to you.” Not that he was incapable of doing so- the butler simply did not because he had values.
“All is forgiven.” A palm waved idly as the other hand met its forehead. Clearly, more time needed to be allotted to the writing of jokes. After the moment of ABSOLUTE PAIN from not having his jest meet its mark, ’T’ snapped its fingers in unison. “Back on topic- twelve-ish galaxies-slash-‘universes’, and some particular similarities between them.”
Two ways of thinking about this topic could be adopted. The first being; and possessing enormously disappointing nature; that each universe was somehow infinitely spanning, yet only held a few forms of sentient life. Unlimited potential for a multitude of similar species to appear once, twice, or three times, yet none could be found except for the plain old humanoid features.
Another theory could be that they have yet to be found. That gave Cheese a cheesy idea.
“An argument against your use of the the ‘galaxy’ instead of universe would be the strange likeness between Universe 6’s Namekians and our own.” Having two of the same species being located in two different so called universes only strengthened the image’s point, yet that much did not stop the butler from continuing. “Could that not mean that it is a parallel universe?”
“Neat counter-argument to consider, but not at all unexpected.” ’T’ gave it a four out of ten.
And so, it continued on once more.
“The scope of what Kais call ‘universes’ are limited in of themselves.” The ’T’ shook its legs idly as the being began to rotate ever so slow in mid-air. “Do you really think that these neon-coloured-fancy people have the mental faculties required to process infinity?” Asked the entity with a tinge of cheek to its voice. A keen eye would be able to spot that it was not the thing that moved- the entire landscape shifted. “Hell, I’d give them a lot more credit if they fixed up our own galaxy before moving on to the next one.”
Inch by inch, centimetre by centimetre, atom by atom, the labyrinthian hollow warped and contorted. Shrill snaps and pangs resounded throughout every crevasse in the hall. A kaleidoscope of countless possibilities turning around- disorientating, reflecting, approaching ever closer. The ’T’s in each image still failed to acquire any semblance of colour, save for white tones and black outlines. Each sketch had a story. Every story had a difference.
A change in pocket placement.
A lick of hair facing another way.
A crazed smile, spectating the event.
“Give the gods enough rope, why don’t you?” Cheese narrowed his eyes as his tone harshened. Whatever this was, it was certainly not of the Lord Breaker’s doing. This scenario deviated too far from what could disastrously be even considered the normal.
“Point is,” ’T’ spoke yet again, tapping lightly tapping on the side of its egg chair. “This is galaxy we live in is a part of a collective universe.” A limited, ill-defined universe. “And a while ago, I came to realise that I am truly alone in it.”
“Pardon me?” The butler had a hard time following the context of this strange entity’s words.
And so, it explained itself. “About a year ago, I sent out a wide spanning telepathic message aimed at entities; or at the very least, a entity; that retained my likeness.”
“You were looking for alternate versions of yourself.” Fear, astonishment, distaste, or perhaps even a combination of all three caused his eyes to widen. For a moment, the man showed a loss of composure. “But why?” All he managed to ask- all he probably should ask.
“Boredom, mostly.” A simply shrug displayed its lack of proper motive. An abundance of power and nothing to do with said power just about did that much for it. “I didn’t expect there to hit with a chockfull of existential crisises.” It brought a hand to his chin, thinking to itself whether the correct word had been used. “Crisii?”
“Crises, my lord.” Cheese corrected aptly. “Also pardon my Space-French, but what the hell?”
Not only did this mean that T was attempted to look for proof of alternate realities, alternate ’T’s, and different possibilities along the event horizon to explore, but he did so entirely out of boredom. As far as Cheese was concerned, the existential crisis of having no alternate versions of himself was warranted by this reckless behaviour. One Lord Breaker stood as a difficult person to manage.
Two of him may very well have brought about an age of silly darkness over the entire galaxy. Infinite moons made from chocolate milk flying over planets composed entirely of cows. Seas pouring throughout each solar system, filled to the brim by fish and aquatic life unknown to the very universe. The fabric of reality being used as a trampoline for a pair of jesters to use and abuse as they wish. All forms of nonsensical chaos may have ensued.
It was either that or they would fight with one another. T did not especially like a lot of things. In fact, he hated everything. The being loathed all within the grasp of this wretched existence. Yet in this continuity, he displayed compassion.
Thinking about where all of that rage went sent a chill down the butler’s spine.
“Mrm, there were no beings akin or similar to me in any of the other Universes,” It stated with the epitome of casualness behind its voice, behind their voices, behind them. “Not even in the sister ‘universe’ of Universe 6.” At the mention of that quality, one of the reflections faded from a pane. “Infinite chances, twelve times over- all reduced to nothing in the end.”
This sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed by the veteran’s watchful gaze. What it possibly meant was far beyond Cheese’s base of knowledge. For every movement and word the image took, another one vanished.
“I have no idea what to say.” The man truly lacked any form of intelligent input on the actions of his ‘master’.
“Ah, but at the same time- I figured out why I; or we; can’t travel through time.” Waggling an index finger up in front of its own face, the entity stood up and proceeded placed both hands into its pockets.
His gaze traced the being as it made a move. “Does your ability to teleport not describe travelling through space and time, sire?”
“Yeah, figured that out too.” With a stretch of its arms, the cavern shook yet again. This time, Cheese’s question was replied to with another question. “Divination lets a person see into the future, correct?”
The butler’s feet lifted off the floor. It took a moment for the effects of the latest event to weight down; or rather, up; on him. Swiftly, he began to plummet towards the ceiling. Gravity had shifted from down to up, and the perspective changed from up to down. And still, he managed to land on his feet with all the reflexes of a cat.
“Well, I can’t see into the future either.” It added on, cocking an eyebrow upon witnessing the small display of grace. “Or at the very least, I can’t see into my future.”
“Concerning clairvoyance, when I try to look into the what goes on in our existence- I see nothing.” Nothing. Nothing in the slightest. Neither a speck of light, nor the smallest sub-atomic particle was present. “Nothing is decided, nothing can be decided. Nothing is set in stone.” Nothing. Nothing at all. Neither a chain of causation, nor the result of an action. “But the strangest part about the whole thing is that looking into other existences is possible.”
“One where an action happens, or does not happen.” It clapped its hands together upon finishing.
Only ten images remained in sight. These beings appeared indistinguishable from one another at first glance.
“But that is redundant,” mumbled Cheese to the best of his mental clarity. “How would you benefit at all from peering into what simply may happen?” So many question, so little ’T’s.
“I don’t- that’s the beauty of it.” Admission of guilt; guilty as charged; charge him for fraud. “Yet from looking into all these ACTUAL parallel universes, I can conclude that there is an additional, universal truth.” Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Six Lord Breakers remained. “There is no timeline, nor universe where I am not me.”
For some reason or another, more of them started to leave.
“There is only T, and what stops me from travelling forward, back, left or right in time is T.”
“Again.” Cheese grunted, straightening his back. “You’ve lost me.”
“All ’T’s are one and the same with the being of ’T’.” Five. “There is a timeline where I do and a timeline where I don’t, but for all other decisions which goes against the concept of ’T’, there is no ’T’.” Four.
“So you truly are alone.” The butler was astonished. “While every other being possesses limitless numbers of paths to go down, you are constrained to... Yourself.”
“I call it ‘Temporal Anchoring’.” Three. Two, and-
“What happens if you teleport to another existence where another ‘you’ resides?”
“Can’t.”
“Excuse me, master?”
“Tried it.” 'T' answered aptly. “Can’t.”
“That is incredibly irresponsible.”
“Well, it might have been irresponsible if it worked.”
“Why choose to reveal this to me now, of all things?”
“Because out of all the string of events sewn together into a garbled mess of a canvas, this thread is the only one crucial to my reality.” The only event along the shredded horizon which might bring about change. “By exiting existence and incorporating significant events to the domain, null has been given a value.”
“And that value is one.”
This sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed by the veteran’s watchful gaze. What it possibly meant was far beyond Cheese’s base of knowledge. For every movement and word the image took, another one vanished.
“I have no idea what to say.” The man truly lacked any form of intelligent input on the actions of his ‘master’.
“Ah, but at the same time- I figured out why I; or we; can’t travel through time.” Waggling an index finger up in front of its own face, the entity stood up and proceeded placed both hands into its pockets.
His gaze traced the being as it made a move. “Does your ability to teleport not describe travelling through space and time, sire?”
“Yeah, figured that out too.” With a stretch of its arms, the cavern shook yet again. This time, Cheese’s question was replied to with another question. “Divination lets a person see into the future, correct?”
The butler’s feet lifted off the floor. It took a moment for the effects of the latest event to weight down; or rather, up; on him. Swiftly, he began to plummet towards the ceiling. Gravity had shifted from down to up, and the perspective changed from up to down. And still, he managed to land on his feet with all the reflexes of a cat.
“Well, I can’t see into the future either.” It added on, cocking an eyebrow upon witnessing the small display of grace. “Or at the very least, I can’t see into my future.”
“Concerning clairvoyance, when I try to look into the what goes on in our existence- I see nothing.” Nothing. Nothing in the slightest. Neither a speck of light, nor the smallest sub-atomic particle was present. “Nothing is decided, nothing can be decided. Nothing is set in stone.” Nothing. Nothing at all. Neither a chain of causation, nor the result of an action. “But the strangest part about the whole thing is that looking into other existences is possible.”
“One where an action happens, or does not happen.” It clapped its hands together upon finishing.
Only ten images remained in sight. These beings appeared indistinguishable from one another at first glance.
“But that is redundant,” mumbled Cheese to the best of his mental clarity. “How would you benefit at all from peering into what simply may happen?” So many question, so little ’T’s.
“I don’t- that’s the beauty of it.” Admission of guilt; guilty as charged; charge him for fraud. “Yet from looking into all these ACTUAL parallel universes, I can conclude that there is an additional, universal truth.” Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Six Lord Breakers remained. “There is no timeline, nor universe where I am not me.”
For some reason or another, more of them started to leave.
“There is only T, and what stops me from travelling forward, back, left or right in time is T.”
“Again.” Cheese grunted, straightening his back. “You’ve lost me.”
“All ’T’s are one and the same with the being of ’T’.” Five. “There is a timeline where I do and a timeline where I don’t, but for all other decisions which goes against the concept of ’T’, there is no ’T’.” Four.
“So you truly are alone.” The butler was astonished. “While every other being possesses limitless numbers of paths to go down, you are constrained to... Yourself.”
“I call it ‘Temporal Anchoring’.” Three. Two, and-
“What happens if you teleport to another existence where another ‘you’ resides?”
“Can’t.”
“Excuse me, master?”
“Tried it.” 'T' answered aptly. “Can’t.”
“That is incredibly irresponsible.”
“Well, it might have been irresponsible if it worked.”
“Why choose to reveal this to me now, of all things?”
“Because out of all the string of events sewn together into a garbled mess of a canvas, this thread is the only one crucial to my reality.” The only event along the shredded horizon which might bring about change. “By exiting existence and incorporating significant events to the domain, null has been given a value.”
“And that value is one.”
[ Stronger Stronger Stronger Yet ]
Stranger things have happened to him. Stranger things have yet to happen. Gaining an immense amount of residual power from unknown sources would have felt unsatisfying to the ordinary warrior perhaps, but it would be by this strength that he carries on to meet whatever challenge or obstacle lies in his way. ‘Challenge’ being the debatably adequate word for any task or foe that managed to last over five seconds.
If at any point he thought that this was one of the more calm activities on his list, he would be right. After all, he was simply sitting in a tent located smack dab in the rather well-known area of the middle of nowhere. The man was sure that he was in Yunzabit Heights, though ‘in the middle of nowhere’ sounded about as appropriate as a name for the vicinity. Rumours about a wise old man trained in the mystical arts brought him way up to the north in the first place.
Those whispers in the wind were almost entirely true. Yes, there was a wise old man somewhere in Yunzabit Height. Surely enough, he allowed visitors to come if they managed to find him. In spite of those two facts holding weight, the visitor was not informed that he would have to wait for five whole hours on a seating cusion that was incredibly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, the elderly person was gods-know-where doing gods-know-what. Had he known he was waiting this long, he would have tried to find a different mystic.
Every second passing felt like an eternity. Instead of plump, soft cotton inlay which would provide for leeway to mould and depress when pressure was applied, he received some form of resistance from the linen surface. It felt like he was sitting on a mound of sand shovelled in a sack. The man could have sworn that there was a nail in there that shifted around once in a while- never piercing or scratching flesh while he sat down, but coming too close for comfort by some means or another.
His eyes twitched. Sweat descended down his temples, soaking the plain white t-shirt that he wore. One of his fingers rasped at a hooded, chocolate jacket laying on his lap. The action threatened to tear through fabric with how often it took place.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
A clatter sounded the moment at which the old man had returned. Beads shifted aside as the strings secured to the top of the tent’s entrance shook lightly, eventually returning to their original position. It was an slow, albeit abrupt entrance.
SCRITCH.
What once took the form of a jacket, now laid as a pair of separated sleeves. The visitor appeared to be startled by this arrival. He had been waiting for so long that the time made him question the man’s existence. Someone might have just set up an astonishingly sturdy tent somewhere in Yunzabit Heights for all he knew. Lucky for him, he did not scratch at the pants he wore.
“Ah- um. Sorry about that.” Apparently, he then decided to apologise for breaking his own jacket. “Are you the old man living on Yunzabit Heights?”
Rather than address his visitor directly, the elder sage teetered about before sitting down cross legged on a mat opposite of the extremely uncomfortable seat.
With a single clap, a cloud of smoke blasted out from a metre ahead of himself. Hissing filled the air as it dissipated slowly- taking the noise while fading. A tea set remained in it’s place. Fine white porcelain from East City. A little on the high side for a sage connected to nature, but he had a guest.
Gritty, quiet, and solemn was his tone. “You do realise that you are sitting on a magically enchanted pillow, don’t you?” Asked the sagely fellow.
“Magically enchanted pillow?” Repeated his visitor.
As he lifted up the teapot to begin pouring, he confirmed his prior statement. “Magically enchanted to be a bad seat, yes.” A hand lifted to his chin while the other stirred the tea using a spoon. “It was a gift from an peer.”
From this, the sage could deduce one of two things. The first being his visitor’s naivety, it would appear that he had little to no ability to sense mystical energies around him despite his overwhelming power. This surprised him to a certain degree. Never before had he encountered someone that possessed such a grand amount of latent power. This coupled with the lack of the know-how behind his capacity made for an even odder situation.
Then again, this stranger may have been pretending to be unaware. Sensing his signature could be likened to staring straight at a blank template. An untouched canvas simply waiting for paint to be added to. Yet, said canvas betrayed a menacing undertone. It was unclear at best as to how this spirit had been amassed or created.
“I am Nassan, the old man you most likely speak of.” A sip from his cup was taken. Thereafter, he returned to the conversation with one of his own questions. “Who are you, stranger?”
A look of mild confusion was plastered on the stranger’s face. This was a first for him. All of the other wizened folk from before either chased him off or forced his hand. “Right, my name is T.” The young man stated at last, sitting back down on the cloth flooring in a cross-legged manner to mimic the elder. This time, he avoided the pillow. “Been travelling to a lot of old men and women lately.” Announced the youth with an air of melancholy. “I’ve come to ask some questions.”
In response, the sage placed the cup down and gestured towards the would-be Lord Breaker. “Then by all means sit and ask. We have plenty of time, given that you do not have anywhere to go.”
So he did. So he learnt a little more.
Stranger things have happened to him. Stranger things have yet to happen. Gaining an immense amount of residual power from unknown sources would have felt unsatisfying to the ordinary warrior perhaps, but it would be by this strength that he carries on to meet whatever challenge or obstacle lies in his way. ‘Challenge’ being the debatably adequate word for any task or foe that managed to last over five seconds.
If at any point he thought that this was one of the more calm activities on his list, he would be right. After all, he was simply sitting in a tent located smack dab in the rather well-known area of the middle of nowhere. The man was sure that he was in Yunzabit Heights, though ‘in the middle of nowhere’ sounded about as appropriate as a name for the vicinity. Rumours about a wise old man trained in the mystical arts brought him way up to the north in the first place.
Those whispers in the wind were almost entirely true. Yes, there was a wise old man somewhere in Yunzabit Height. Surely enough, he allowed visitors to come if they managed to find him. In spite of those two facts holding weight, the visitor was not informed that he would have to wait for five whole hours on a seating cusion that was incredibly uncomfortable. Meanwhile, the elderly person was gods-know-where doing gods-know-what. Had he known he was waiting this long, he would have tried to find a different mystic.
Every second passing felt like an eternity. Instead of plump, soft cotton inlay which would provide for leeway to mould and depress when pressure was applied, he received some form of resistance from the linen surface. It felt like he was sitting on a mound of sand shovelled in a sack. The man could have sworn that there was a nail in there that shifted around once in a while- never piercing or scratching flesh while he sat down, but coming too close for comfort by some means or another.
His eyes twitched. Sweat descended down his temples, soaking the plain white t-shirt that he wore. One of his fingers rasped at a hooded, chocolate jacket laying on his lap. The action threatened to tear through fabric with how often it took place.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
Rasp.
A clatter sounded the moment at which the old man had returned. Beads shifted aside as the strings secured to the top of the tent’s entrance shook lightly, eventually returning to their original position. It was an slow, albeit abrupt entrance.
SCRITCH.
What once took the form of a jacket, now laid as a pair of separated sleeves. The visitor appeared to be startled by this arrival. He had been waiting for so long that the time made him question the man’s existence. Someone might have just set up an astonishingly sturdy tent somewhere in Yunzabit Heights for all he knew. Lucky for him, he did not scratch at the pants he wore.
“Ah- um. Sorry about that.” Apparently, he then decided to apologise for breaking his own jacket. “Are you the old man living on Yunzabit Heights?”
Rather than address his visitor directly, the elder sage teetered about before sitting down cross legged on a mat opposite of the extremely uncomfortable seat.
With a single clap, a cloud of smoke blasted out from a metre ahead of himself. Hissing filled the air as it dissipated slowly- taking the noise while fading. A tea set remained in it’s place. Fine white porcelain from East City. A little on the high side for a sage connected to nature, but he had a guest.
Gritty, quiet, and solemn was his tone. “You do realise that you are sitting on a magically enchanted pillow, don’t you?” Asked the sagely fellow.
“Magically enchanted pillow?” Repeated his visitor.
As he lifted up the teapot to begin pouring, he confirmed his prior statement. “Magically enchanted to be a bad seat, yes.” A hand lifted to his chin while the other stirred the tea using a spoon. “It was a gift from an peer.”
From this, the sage could deduce one of two things. The first being his visitor’s naivety, it would appear that he had little to no ability to sense mystical energies around him despite his overwhelming power. This surprised him to a certain degree. Never before had he encountered someone that possessed such a grand amount of latent power. This coupled with the lack of the know-how behind his capacity made for an even odder situation.
Then again, this stranger may have been pretending to be unaware. Sensing his signature could be likened to staring straight at a blank template. An untouched canvas simply waiting for paint to be added to. Yet, said canvas betrayed a menacing undertone. It was unclear at best as to how this spirit had been amassed or created.
“I am Nassan, the old man you most likely speak of.” A sip from his cup was taken. Thereafter, he returned to the conversation with one of his own questions. “Who are you, stranger?”
A look of mild confusion was plastered on the stranger’s face. This was a first for him. All of the other wizened folk from before either chased him off or forced his hand. “Right, my name is T.” The young man stated at last, sitting back down on the cloth flooring in a cross-legged manner to mimic the elder. This time, he avoided the pillow. “Been travelling to a lot of old men and women lately.” Announced the youth with an air of melancholy. “I’ve come to ask some questions.”
In response, the sage placed the cup down and gestured towards the would-be Lord Breaker. “Then by all means sit and ask. We have plenty of time, given that you do not have anywhere to go.”
So he did. So he learnt a little more.
Serrated, sporadic strumming of strings staggered around the serpentine path. The mere sound of it invited one ever closer to its point of origin. At first the tune came softly- lonely even. A single being playing a solitary beat as if waiting for others to come join it. If nothing else, one might not be so surprised to hear that instrument after instrument came along to spread the noise.
Closer.
Key after key. Note after note. At first a creeping tap of piano keys emerged from the thicket. Following this, the buildup of drums was heard clearly. Trumpets, trombones and all other manner of instruments slowly materialised to pleasantly add their own parts.
Closer still.
Finally, vocals made their way into eardrums and skin alike. It was a slow, melancholic piece sung, yet the man behind the microphone possessed a clear, persuasive voice, an alluring tone, and a barrel-full of charm at that.
Past the sea of trees, a brick-laden clearing resided in view. A smooth stone road laid in wait directly in front of them. Scattered at intervals along this path were lanterns of rather strange make- it was unknown exactly what was inside of them. Regardless, they provided their own dim, emerald lighting to their surroundings as moonlight provided anything else they lacked. Moonlight.
Yes, even the moon came to be in full view. It hung lazily above the whole land as if unbothered by the whole event taking place. It wished only to sleep evermore peacefully. Perhaps the sounds of soft swing would have made the whole spectacle easier to sleep through.
Speaking of which, the origin of that music was now clear. A band of sorts performed live; or rather, un-live; atop a wooden stage close to one of the crypts. Meanwhile skeletons, ghouls, ghosts, and all manner of undead sat around the many round tables located around the graveyard.
“Here we are,” Calcy brought up both limbs by her sides as she spun around to face Mynia. “The Graveyard Respite!”
True to word, it was quite the place to have a respite. Among the many graves and memorials laying since time immemorial, creatures of all kind chit-chattered, clattered, drank and danced. Alcoholism seemed to be a common trend among those beyond the state of death. Even skeletons without any form of digestive track downed tankard after tankard- the liquid somehow vanishing aver passing through their jaws.
On the topic of both ale and the undead, multiple bars were located in the yard. Some were near crypts, some stood on their own as small shacks. Every single one of them appeared spaced out enough to warrant their own separate existences.
Not a second after the skeletal-servant made her announcement, another feminine voice chimed out. “Heya, Calcy.”
Dirty blond twin tails, skin as pale as it is blue, pointed ears, and a pair of amber irises all made for a strange flair of style in the waitress. Frilly white attire juxtaposed with the skeletal being’s own clothes. This person held an air of cheek to their strut, step, and tone. Again, a difference in overall demeanour.
“Oh for goodness’ sake-” Looking over at the other servant, Mrs. Bones squinted her non-existent eyelids. “Zombel, you know that dress is against regulations.” ‘Dress’ was extremely subjective in this sense of speaking.
“Try not to get your knickers in a twist, jeez,” replied Zombie as she tapped twice on her counterpart’s cranium. “It’s a special occasion anyway, so I thought I’d break out the ol’ ridiculously-unpractical-maid outfit.”
“Just.” A sigh escaped Calcy’s jaws, her right hand raised to her face in mild disappointment. “Just don’t let Jeeves see you, alright?”
“Well, he’s gone somewhere so I don’t think I have to worry about him.” At that, the sentient-dead pointed behind her using a thumb. Nobody was there. In turn, the zombie made herself scare as well. “Gonna go look for things to do now- probably going to monkey-tape a wrench to an abomination.”
“Huh.” That was odd. As far as she knew, there was never a moment where Cheese stood unavailable. Next, she addressed the Suzerain. “Either way, if you require anything, you need only ask.” After a small curtsey, she then proceeded down the path. “I will be off elsewhere.”
And so she was left alone.
Too much. Too much, too much, too much. Too much energy had been expended. Too many of a bother to maintain. Too little strength was allotted. There was only so much T could do with the power he possessed. However impossible the events one managed to produce using any form of ability one used, the rules of reality; or lack thereof; somehow weighed the Lord Breaker down. After all, he was only a man.
Or perhaps now, he was even less than a man. The entity rested within an domain of nothingness. An endless void of black surrounded him. This had happened quite a few times before when he first attained a fraction of dominion over all. He failed to pull the scattered pieces of himself together from across a realm of nonexistence.
T did not mind this canvas. It was not exactly painful- in fact, he felt nothing at all. One could compare it to being erased from reality, yet keeping one’s cognisance. A poetic form of endless suffering from one’s perspective. In his viewpoint, it was highly exaggerated. The entire ordeal simply became boring.
Nothing to do- save for fade in and out of consciousness. In a sense, he compared it to sleeping.
>Here it is.
Uncanny. T almost thought he heard, read, or experienced something. He supposed that there was harm in checking.
“Can you hear me?”
>Hello?
It almost chilled him. There was something and at the same time nothing. A first no doubt, however, nothing that he feared. If it truly came with bad intentions in store, the Lord Breaker would do as his title suggests. He remained tired after the feat performed to simply provide a period of entertainment for the universe’s latest newcomer, albeit still capable to collect himself if need be.
No time like the past, present, future, or whenever he was located in to test the waters.
“Hello there.”
>Hello.
Another entity. A non-entity? The jargon was far too convoluted and messily used for T to keep track of. Nonsense aside, this scenario might have proved amusing to pass the time while recuperating lost strength. If nothing else, it could keep him preoccupied so as to now slip back into a full-fledged slumber.
“Who are you?”
>The better question would be ‘who are you?’
“Yeah, that gimmick is getting really stale.”
>I figured.
“On a more serious note, who are you?”
>Well, I am you.
“You can’t be me. I’m me.”
>Oh, but you aren’t me- see?
“No. I can’t. It is very dark.”
>Right, me neither.
“So who are you?”
>I am ̷T̷.
̶T̶. T̵. And T̵̫͠. So it was him and not him. The concept of ’T’ stretched so far that T had no idea what was and was not ’T’ anymore. This brought into question whether any of the fluff which happened in the past actually mattered. Then again, it may as well not have. If there was anything guiding his actions in the past few months, it was equal, unerring hate for all things.
But where had that hate gone?
"That could be a thing, except I’m T.”
>Ah, yes. You are T, aren’t you?
"Something really sinister is happening, isn’t it?”
>Depends on your perspective, I suppose. Since when did you care anyway?
"I don’t.”
>Suuuuure you don’t.
The sarcasm went unappreciated, but not entirely unexpected when taking the thing claim into account. T did see how the tone may relate to his own to a certain extent. Nothing does it quite like a heaping dose of reciprocation to make him one to slam his own head into a wall. Maybe commit genocide on every wall on that planet as well just for the kick of it.
”Does this mean I was wrong about alternate ’T’s?”
>Yes and no.
"Yes and no?”
>Yes and no.
In addition to retaining some of his worst mannerisms, the interaction carried his irksome style of answering questions as well. It would have been annoying to deal with if the Lord Breaker did not find enjoyment in taking guesses as to what this trail-mix of traits amounted to. Obviously, the fragment had to be from his own being. None possessed the knowledge or ability to instantaneously transport themselves into the state of null as far as he knew.
Thus, he concluded that it may have been a branching version of T. T, but not quite T. A binary fission of character, personality, or whatever would justify the change to be. Possessing power without knowledge of what said power would accomplish would do just about that to anyone. In this scenario, it seemed as though the man could only hypothesise as to what this thing was.
A thought that tickled him alone- quite few and far between.
Leeway could be granted to this peculiar idea. Narcissism was highly overrated and if the presence of another made for good fun, T failed to see what wrong it could do. What wrong it may create. How wrong he could possibly be?
"Sounds a bit fun and a bit stupid.”
>The concept of ’T’ is pretty stupid to begin with.
Cackling to himself, the Lord Breaker too began to fade as nothing was rendered to nothing. Zero still stood as zero. An empty space has no value to anyone has little to do with it. It was time for change to take place. Dealing with mere possibility made little sense in almost any setting or sense.
He laughed. He giggled. He roared out in a fit of hilarity.
Fair enough indeed.
Or perhaps now, he was even less than a man. The entity rested within an domain of nothingness. An endless void of black surrounded him. This had happened quite a few times before when he first attained a fraction of dominion over all. He failed to pull the scattered pieces of himself together from across a realm of nonexistence.
T did not mind this canvas. It was not exactly painful- in fact, he felt nothing at all. One could compare it to being erased from reality, yet keeping one’s cognisance. A poetic form of endless suffering from one’s perspective. In his viewpoint, it was highly exaggerated. The entire ordeal simply became boring.
Nothing to do- save for fade in and out of consciousness. In a sense, he compared it to sleeping.
>Here it is.
Uncanny. T almost thought he heard, read, or experienced something. He supposed that there was harm in checking.
“Can you hear me?”
>Hello?
It almost chilled him. There was something and at the same time nothing. A first no doubt, however, nothing that he feared. If it truly came with bad intentions in store, the Lord Breaker would do as his title suggests. He remained tired after the feat performed to simply provide a period of entertainment for the universe’s latest newcomer, albeit still capable to collect himself if need be.
No time like the past, present, future, or whenever he was located in to test the waters.
“Hello there.”
>Hello.
Another entity. A non-entity? The jargon was far too convoluted and messily used for T to keep track of. Nonsense aside, this scenario might have proved amusing to pass the time while recuperating lost strength. If nothing else, it could keep him preoccupied so as to now slip back into a full-fledged slumber.
“Who are you?”
>The better question would be ‘who are you?’
“Yeah, that gimmick is getting really stale.”
>I figured.
“On a more serious note, who are you?”
>Well, I am you.
“You can’t be me. I’m me.”
>Oh, but you aren’t me- see?
“No. I can’t. It is very dark.”
>Right, me neither.
“So who are you?”
>I am ̷T̷.
̶T̶. T̵. And T̵̫͠. So it was him and not him. The concept of ’T’ stretched so far that T had no idea what was and was not ’T’ anymore. This brought into question whether any of the fluff which happened in the past actually mattered. Then again, it may as well not have. If there was anything guiding his actions in the past few months, it was equal, unerring hate for all things.
But where had that hate gone?
"That could be a thing, except I’m T.”
>Ah, yes. You are T, aren’t you?
"Something really sinister is happening, isn’t it?”
>Depends on your perspective, I suppose. Since when did you care anyway?
"I don’t.”
>Suuuuure you don’t.
The sarcasm went unappreciated, but not entirely unexpected when taking the thing claim into account. T did see how the tone may relate to his own to a certain extent. Nothing does it quite like a heaping dose of reciprocation to make him one to slam his own head into a wall. Maybe commit genocide on every wall on that planet as well just for the kick of it.
”Does this mean I was wrong about alternate ’T’s?”
>Yes and no.
"Yes and no?”
>Yes and no.
In addition to retaining some of his worst mannerisms, the interaction carried his irksome style of answering questions as well. It would have been annoying to deal with if the Lord Breaker did not find enjoyment in taking guesses as to what this trail-mix of traits amounted to. Obviously, the fragment had to be from his own being. None possessed the knowledge or ability to instantaneously transport themselves into the state of null as far as he knew.
Thus, he concluded that it may have been a branching version of T. T, but not quite T. A binary fission of character, personality, or whatever would justify the change to be. Possessing power without knowledge of what said power would accomplish would do just about that to anyone. In this scenario, it seemed as though the man could only hypothesise as to what this thing was.
A thought that tickled him alone- quite few and far between.
Leeway could be granted to this peculiar idea. Narcissism was highly overrated and if the presence of another made for good fun, T failed to see what wrong it could do. What wrong it may create. How wrong he could possibly be?
"Sounds a bit fun and a bit stupid.”
>The concept of ’T’ is pretty stupid to begin with.
Cackling to himself, the Lord Breaker too began to fade as nothing was rendered to nothing. Zero still stood as zero. An empty space has no value to anyone has little to do with it. It was time for change to take place. Dealing with mere possibility made little sense in almost any setting or sense.
He laughed. He giggled. He roared out in a fit of hilarity.
"Fair enough.”
Fair enough indeed.
[ Sequence I - End ]
( Word Count : 6,231 ) [ Total Word Count : 12,789 + 6,231 = 19,020 ]
𝕸𝖞𝖓𝖎𝖆