Not much to talk about at the moment: I went to the gym this morning, which was nice, and I'm feeling the aches slowly settle in :)
The paradox Elizabeth watched closely as Memnith fed a little more Power into the Rep-tile and it divided again, each new piece splitting into four perfect copies of the old only smaller. The kaleidoscope of strands went from being a hard-to-understand web to a mesmerising, incomprehensible mess. Memnith tsked softly and she felt, rather than saw, him delicately shifting some of the strands of power about. There was a tension in the room about them as though the strands were all being stretched tight, and a low hum like the strumming of a guitar string pulsed. Then Memnith leaned back, physically moving, and so she copied him, and the strands of power snapped away, moving in a dimension at right-angles to all the normal ones. They seemed to freeze as they moved, caught by something invisible, and as they did they took on colour and thickness. The whole room seemed to haze as though someone had thrown a bag of coloured chalk-dust up into the middle of it, and then -- nothing moved. She looked about her. It was like being in the Royal Art Gallery during the June Sculpture exhibition. There were pillars and beams in gradated hues of individual colours, larger blobs that might be Impressionist statues, and twisted, broken forms that made her wonder if that was what a scream given solid form might look like. There was a sense of energy, of something waiting to happen again, but no tension this time. "It's beautiful," she said, resisting the temptation to stroke the curves of a purple-green blob that made her think of a horse running. "It's the moment at which the Gate failed to form," said Memnith. "The Rep-tile creates a highly-ordered structure in the Power that seeks out the most recent moment of highest disorder and attaches itself to it." "That sounds counterintuitive," said Elizabeth. "Paradoxical," said Memnith. "There's been a lot of arguments over it over the years, but the current consensus is that it creates a paradox and then attempts to resolve it." "How do you make a Rep-tile then?" Elizabeth was walking carefully around the room, studying the structures. Currently she was in the midst of a set of long beams that looked like a log cabin was caving in around her. Each beam was a slightly different shade of yellow, and she was frowning. "We don't," said Memnith. He joined her, cautiously skirting around a pool of carmine red that had frozen waves on its surface. They both looked at the yellow beams. "We found four of them, and no-one's figured out how to make more." "But we know how they work?" "Some of it," said Memnith. "Since we can't make more we can't be entirely certain they don't do other things as well." "Other things?" Elizabeth folded her arms, her face showing her annoyance. "We don't even know if they're intended to do this," said Memnith, waving his hand. "We could be using them all wrong. Like using a potato peeler as a necklace, for example." A grin flickered on Elizabeth's face for a moment, then vanished. "This is dangerous," she said. "Yes," said Memnith. "Most of what we do is."
Greg - I've been working out fairly regularly since I shifted over to the community centre, though generally in short bursts after I lock up the building on days I close. Which means I'm usually sore, but at least I'm seeing gains.
Ah, I'm so enjoying these two together. And what a neat setting for them to work through. The yellow finds its way into this place as well, I see. I hope for no unpleasant surprises from this not entirely understood device...
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Not much to talk about at the moment: I went to the gym this morning, which was nice, and I'm feeling the aches slowly settle in :)
The paradox
Elizabeth watched closely as Memnith fed a little more Power into the Rep-tile and it divided again, each new piece splitting into four perfect copies of the old only smaller. The kaleidoscope of strands went from being a hard-to-understand web to a mesmerising, incomprehensible mess. Memnith tsked softly and she felt, rather than saw, him delicately shifting some of the strands of power about. There was a tension in the room about them as though the strands were all being stretched tight, and a low hum like the strumming of a guitar string pulsed. Then Memnith leaned back, physically moving, and so she copied him, and the strands of power snapped away, moving in a dimension at right-angles to all the normal ones. They seemed to freeze as they moved, caught by something invisible, and as they did they took on colour and thickness. The whole room seemed to haze as though someone had thrown a bag of coloured chalk-dust up into the middle of it, and then -- nothing moved.
She looked about her. It was like being in the Royal Art Gallery during the June Sculpture exhibition. There were pillars and beams in gradated hues of individual colours, larger blobs that might be Impressionist statues, and twisted, broken forms that made her wonder if that was what a scream given solid form might look like. There was a sense of energy, of something waiting to happen again, but no tension this time.
"It's beautiful," she said, resisting the temptation to stroke the curves of a purple-green blob that made her think of a horse running.
"It's the moment at which the Gate failed to form," said Memnith. "The Rep-tile creates a highly-ordered structure in the Power that seeks out the most recent moment of highest disorder and attaches itself to it."
"That sounds counterintuitive," said Elizabeth.
"Paradoxical," said Memnith. "There's been a lot of arguments over it over the years, but the current consensus is that it creates a paradox and then attempts to resolve it."
"How do you make a Rep-tile then?" Elizabeth was walking carefully around the room, studying the structures. Currently she was in the midst of a set of long beams that looked like a log cabin was caving in around her. Each beam was a slightly different shade of yellow, and she was frowning.
"We don't," said Memnith. He joined her, cautiously skirting around a pool of carmine red that had frozen waves on its surface. They both looked at the yellow beams. "We found four of them, and no-one's figured out how to make more."
"But we know how they work?"
"Some of it," said Memnith. "Since we can't make more we can't be entirely certain they don't do other things as well."
"Other things?" Elizabeth folded her arms, her face showing her annoyance.
"We don't even know if they're intended to do this," said Memnith, waving his hand. "We could be using them all wrong. Like using a potato peeler as a necklace, for example."
A grin flickered on Elizabeth's face for a moment, then vanished. "This is dangerous," she said.
"Yes," said Memnith. "Most of what we do is."
Greg - I've been working out fairly regularly since I shifted over to the community centre, though generally in short bursts after I lock up the building on days I close. Which means I'm usually sore, but at least I'm seeing gains.
Ah, I'm so enjoying these two together. And what a neat setting for them to work through. The yellow finds its way into this place as well, I see. I hope for no unpleasant surprises from this not entirely understood device...
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