[Gottlieb]
The concept of the ‘system’ that governs this universe is certainly interesting to think about in many ways.
Gottlieb sits in his chair at the gunner’s bay console. Rotwald the harpy stands on the backrest of it, hunched over and preening his hair with her long talons as he contemplates, scratching the scratchy beard he’s been beginning to grow over these past few weeks. The system has the ability to directly influence a person’s capabilities in regards to their physical prowess and body. Even more so, it can actually affect a person’s intelligence directly and, thereby, directly affect their personality, the decisions they make, the life-path they’ll take, and, in a final turn, the effect they will have on others.
He looks down past Blauhausen, who is laid out over his lap on her back, the glop-filled suit slapping around, trying to get his attention. Gottlieb stares at an old nutri-bar.
Food is affected by the system. Air. Water. Literally every aspect of life is integrated into the system.
He looks to the side at the goblin, Grunheide, who is sitting atop the center console, kicking her legs through the air, and reading some book on an old tablet computer that Kai had located in storage.
Biological capabilities — growth, birth, and death— are all locked into the system.
He looks to the other side, at the minotaur, Braungrube, who is sitting on their only blanket, folded up on the floor, and leaning back against the desk as he vacantly stares up at the ceiling, thinking about whatever it is minotaurs think about.
Inner processes, inner desires, hungers, needs, and urges — nothing is exempt from the system.
Gottlieb looks back over his shoulder for a second, past Rotwald’s legs, and watches Security Officer Schwarzwasser, who has regenerated the entire lower half of her body, do a series of stretches, as apparently the muscles in her freshly regenerated flesh are tightly strung and need to be worked.
This all leads to one thing. If everything that is currently happening in life is connected to the system, that implies that everything that happened in the past is connected to the system, and, in turn, everything in the future.
The cosmic event that brought him and the station to this place. It was an anomaly of unusual proportions, in essence, unexplainable by the laws of his old universe.
“Kai,” says Gottlieb, breaking the silence as he looks at the monitor. “Did the anomaly that brought us here also start here in this world?” he asks, narrowing his eyes as he comes to an idea. “What if it wasn’t an anomaly? What if it was a planned event?” he asks.
[Response]
- An explanation that, while illogical in the realms of conventional common sense, may prove feasible in the context of this new space we find ourselves in.
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Assuming some force utilizes the mechanics of this universe to transfer the station and present personnel over, we must ask ourselves why it would do this.
Gottlieb thinks for a while, as something pulls on his hair and clicks before yanking on a new strand. A floppy rubber glove slaps against his beard as a gooey mass squishes around inside the suit.
“Because there’s something we can do that it can’t,” replies Gottlieb, making an assumption to keep this idea moving. “But what?” he asks, looking back at the monitor. “To guide the world as gods? To use the station as a tool?” he asks, thinking for a while. “I just don’t understand why it would need us to do that if it already had the power to bring us here to begin with,” says Gottlieb. “If ‘it’, whatever that thing is, is so strong, why can’t it just do everything it needs to do itself?”
Silence.
— A glove flops against his face, together with the sound of laughter below, as something behind him keeps pulling on strands of his hair.
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[Brother Vindici] Orc, Male, Priest Location: The Human Capital, At the Heart of the City Square
“MYSTERIOUS!” screams the street preacher, froth practically flying from his mouth as his eyes bulge. “— Are the ways of the gods!” proclaims the man. He’s seen the light of glory and become a bit of a fanatic.
People work tirelessly, cleaning up the debris of the gods’ clash in heaven above, the force of which sent a shockwave out, destroying everything that was weak and brittle, including glass, old houses, and old people, all littering the streets and needing to be carried away by the cartful. People weep as they work, mourning the loss of their possessions, homes, and loved ones as they toil.
But the gods do not hear their feeble cries.
It’s obvious why this is happening.
It’s because they live in sin. The people of this city live in gluttony and lust; they live in wrath and sloth. Everything that the gods tell them to be wicked and wrong, the people here imbibe, and now, the gods, like stern, lecturing parents who grow tired of saying ‘no’, have taken to the open hand as their tool of discipline.
He tells them as much as they stand around him, listening — those who do not work. They take in his words as he preaches them, finding them channeled through his voice by the graces of divinity.
“— BEFOULMENT!” screams the man, swiping his hand through the air as he continues to rant.
The gods do not speak in words that people understand, so he will have to be their translator.
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[Azimuth] Orc, Female, Hero Location: The Castle, Gardens
*Bak Bak…* clucks the chicken, lifting its head for a moment to look around as it scratches the dirt and then returns to pecking for seeds and bugs.
Azimuth smiles, watching her go through her little chicken life, the other dozen hens clucking and prancing around her as they too undergo the dynamic experience that is chicken life.
People are all worked up right now because the gods sent another sign, this one was more… drastic. They’ve never taken to striking the human cities or dwellings with their blade, but they do occasionally send harsh waves of destruction nonetheless.
She’s decided that it’s best to just stay here with her chickens for now, until everyone has a few days to breathe.
Azimuth hums to herself, reaching into a small pouch on her lap and tossing out more seeds, watching them run after them.
This is the life.
*Bakaw!*